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wanderingpages · 9 months

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‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Shoutout @headcannonxgalore for holding down the set ❤️

Jude's POV

Cardan is never home – at least not when I am, which is usually always. As far as I knew, he stayed with his dad, went on long vacations, and otherwise only met up with his mom once in a while. So, it irks me a little when I see him waiting for me after my last final, asking, “Are you ready to head home?” Home – as in my home.

He waits for me to pack and say goodbye to my friends, then leads me to his car, and holds the door open for me. “You’re staying with us?” I ask a few minutes into the drive, finding whatever was on the radio to be a little annoying and dull. I open the glove compartment, nosily, sifting through the pack of wipes and snackbars, and pull out a thin worn out book. It’s mostly a discolored yellow, with red writing, in french, La Chute – The Fall by Albert Camus. I flip through the pages, surprised to see dog ears and sticky notes throughout.

“My father isn’t in the country, and why be alone, when I can be with my favorite sister?” His eyes are on the road but his wry smile is directed at me when I glance up at him. He reaches over and takes the book from me, tossing it to the back of the car. “You don't need existentialism now, Jude.”

I grimace; it’s not as if I could read French anyways, though it is surprising that Cardan has that copy in its original language. “Is it your favorite?” I ask. I wiggle my brows, “Do you think you, too, have fallen from grace?”

His smile is Cheshire in response, “Since the day I met you, little sister.” I cross my eyes upwards.

I scrunch my nose,“You can be so….” I trail off, wanting to say infuriating or annoying, but I didn't really need to, he already guesses it.

He responds, “Likewise.” He must sense the incredulous look I give him because he checks me, “You could have said no. To the drive home,” he says, for instance. “Me, in your dorm,” he begins to list, making me feel incredibly self aware. “Walking you home from the party – being in the same room as me at that party, actually. Ghost would have found someplace else if you asked. Even prior to that,” Cardan tells me, “You could have told me no at the reception. But you didn't. We have these cute little trysts for a few hours and then you pretend it’s never happened. I guess you’re kind of like your dad, in that way.” He says the last bit quietly, but I frown all the same. Before I can ask him what he means, he admits, “It’s okay, I’m like my dad too, for even putting up with it. I guess I like being strung along.”

“Cardan…”

“I like stringing you along, too. It's fun to see who’d last the longest. It’s fun to see how far this would go. Do I get to drag you to hell with me, little sister?” I should be bothered by Cardan’s words, but he’s not wrong. His introspection makes the car feel stuffy, so I roll down the window and let the air rush in. He grins and turns the dial on the stereo louder, singing along softly to the lyrics as if they are proving his point. “And you'll find yourself praying up to Heaven above, but honestly I never had much sympathy 'cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me…I'm gonna run, run away, run, run away, run away…” Bad Things by Cults – it is a jarring song; calm and disruptive, a lot like how it feels being in this small space with him. My pointer finger grazes the knuckle of my thumb absently. I rest my head back, listening to his voice.

“You’re kind of a dick,” I finally tell him. Of course he knows this, but saying it out loud made me feel less lousy about how he’s painted me.

“I must have gotten it from Mom.” I frown at that, finding it to seem untrue. The more time I spend with Cardan, the more my view on my stepmother starts to shift

I hesitate to ask about his dad, to go back to the reason he’s driving me home – Asha’s first husband. Did Asha string him along? Is that what Cardan was getting at? Is she doing the same to my father and I? Is my father aware? “Why didn’t you…” I trail off when I realize it really isn’t any of my business, but still, he prompts me to continue. “I mean, I guess, why didn’t you spend more time with Asha? Did she not have shared custody of you or something?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and I turn in my seat to look at him, waiting to see if he’d tell me to fuck off or not. What he says instead, throws me off, “Asha was deemed unfit to parent.” I blink hard at this, in disbelief. If he notices, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he shifts the conversation to me; asks about my mom.

“She… I don’t know,” I admit, probably for the first time in my life. “She left me – us, Dad and I, when I was five. I don’t know where she is. I think she’s started a new family somewhere else.” I face forward and rest my elbow on the door handle, absently nipping at my thumb. As an afterthought, I say, “Maybe she’s dead.” he hums out a response, but he has no clue of the spiral he’s sent me on. Or maybe he does, and that's why when we stop for gas at the next rest stop, he tosses me a first aid kit. He waits until I put the antiseptic cream on and wrap thin gauze around my knuckles. My cheeks heat; he had noticed when my fingers started to bleed. In truth, Cardan doesn't really even need gas, so I say thank you and give him a bright smile when I’m done.

He tilts his head and reaches for my hair, brushing it back behind my ears. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it at the last moment and instead asks if I’m hungry. “There’s a diner a few miles ahead.” biding more time with him, I nod my head and let him pay for a meal.

The diner is cozy, but I’m not in the mood for a big meal, so I settle for a slice of cherry pie. We are at the darkest corner of the diner, and while it feels pretty private, I’m still keenly aware of the scatter of guests coming and going. Because of where we are seated, it takes some time for the waitress to notice, then even more time for our food and drinks to arrive. We are mostly forgotten here in this pocket of the diner. I don’t think I mind much, though.

I steer the conversation to less heavy and more neutral topics. I ask about the frat house and why he’s not actually a part of it. When he tells me his dad donates a hefty sum of money to the college, that surprises me. I guess, there really is a lot about him I had no idea of. “I'm an honorary member,” he shrugs, “It’s kind of hard not to be when Daddy funds their lifestyle.” I crack a smile because Cardan can be dorky sometimes. I ask about his relationships with the other members, I suppose wanting to know more about his stance on Ghost, really. If he would have been okay with anybody creeping into his room with me that night. “Ghost is my best friend. It would have been a fight had it been Locke or anyone else,” he divulges, and though I shouldn't be startled by his honesty, it still makes me feel a little too warm. Then he admits, maybe selfishly considering his track record for the past few weeks, “If he had gone further, I would have buried him.”

My eyes get wide and when I say, “That's not fair,” it comes out in a whisper.

“I know.”

Cardan had ordered a burger, so when it finally arrives, he pushes the platter more to the center of the table and tells me to eat some of his fries; he halfheartedly jokes that I'd probably get sick if I only eat sugar for lunch. I take a few to appease him, nibbling them almost thoughtfully. “That's a visceral reaction,” I come to terms with. “Your best friend?” I blush when I remind him quietly, “you’re the one who told me to open my mouth.”

“I rather his load in your mouth than on your body or in your cunt,” he says graphically. I cough in shock but he’s not bothered. “Plus, I think you look cute with a dick in your mouth.”

I scowl at him after reaching for a sip of soda. “What makes you think you have any right over my body?”

“I know I don't.” He picks at a fry, “I told you, baby, you could have said no.” I’m taken aback but I should know by now, my step brother is anything but a liar. I ponder his admittance of jealousy, but also his acceptance that he really had no say - only what I let him have say over, and I realize, I let him have say over a lot. “You could have ignored me and hopped on his dick. Maybe it would have been a blow to my ego, but then I probably wouldn't be in this diner right now with you.” He always says so much while saying so little, doesn't he? “Anyways, if you decide to tell me to fuck off and pursue Ghost instead, you should walk around with condoms, because I know he doesn’t.” It’s so offhanded that I don't even really process it as anything more than banter.

“I’m on birth control,” I tell him indignantly, willfully ignoring all else that was said. “I don't want to be with Ghost, anyways.” I let him take that as he may and I dig into my pie as if to end the conversation there. I want to let him know I don’t want to be with him either, but that would be lying and despite myself, I just couldn’t tell Cardan to fuck off. After a while, I notice him staring. “Do you want some of my pie,” I offer.

“Is that a euphemism?”

I shift my head to the side as if I’m actually thinking about it. My feet finds his under the table, and with my legs crossed, I have enough leverage to use my ankle to softly graze up his leg. “Do you want it to be?”

He catches hold of my ankle, uncrossing my legs to place my foot on his thigh. I lean back in the booth a little awkwardly, and lick at my cherry coated spoon. “What's the pipeline between mommy issues and wanting to bend your sister over the bathroom sink?” Cardan muses.

“Stepsister,” I tell him. I wiggle my foot in his grip. I have on snow boots and leggings, not at all looking as sexy as I feel right now.

He shrugs and with his free hand, reaches across the table and dips two fingers into the center of the slice. “It makes no difference to me, Jude. Sister or not, I’d want you the same way I wanted you then, the same way I want you now.” I watch as he pulls them out slowly, completely coating his fingers with the sticky sweet maroon. I follow his fingers to where he hovers them in front of his mouth then sticks his tongue out and flattens it against his digits, tasting the honeyed tart. I shiver and twist in my seat, eyes slowly drifting up to find his dark ones already piercing into my soul.

“And…” my words come out breathy against my will. “How do you want me, now?” I play with fire to condition myself. Hell is hot, I’ve heard, and maybe Cardan does get to drag me there with him.

“I want you to copy me,” he says, huskily, startling me, my eyes growing wide. “I want you to stick your fingers in your panties and do what I do.”

My breathing gets erratic in mere seconds. I look around the near empty diner, like if I’m actually contemplating it. “You’re crazy,” I whisper. His eyes are teasing, daring me to say no to him, proving his point all over again when I don’t.

Cardan grins, “Take your jacket off, put it on over your lap. Don’t worry, baby sister, it’ll be our little secret.” His teeth scrape the tip of his fingers. I’m crazy, too, I think, as I do exactly what he asks. “I bet it’s already wet,” he leans over the table, talking quietly. I slip my hand beneath the elastic material of my leggings then under the cotton of my panties, glancing to see if anyone had caught on. Cardan catches my chin, fingerprinting it red and turning me to face him. “Is it?”

“Yes,” I whisper, embarrassed, but not enough to stop. “Soaking.”

“Good girl. Now watch,” he instructs, leaning back. He guides my leg to the side of him, spreading my thighs wider. He takes his cherried fingers and separates them into a V Shape. The tip of his tongue traces the inner part, slowly. I swallow thickly, shaking as I let my fingers follow along, circling the outside of my pussy, mirroring his movements.

My leg beside him starts to tremble, but with his free hand, he holds me still, caressing me soothingly. He tongues the crook of his fingers and I hesitate before I begin rubbing my clit with matching vigor. My eyes flutter, and I try to hold in an embarrassing noise as my head falls back against the cushioned seat. My eyes are still trying to focus on him, matching the pressure, matching the rhythm, though struggling to even stay at half mast. I bite my lower lip when he presses his fingers together and strokes between them wetly. He licks his own lips then asks, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” I mumble. Scared – “Nervous,” I admit, looking at him with blown out eyes and heat erupting all over my body. My fingers shake, but the shallow caresses make me shamefully wet. “Cardan,” I silently plead, my chest moving up and down sporadically, my stomach tightening, muscles contorting. “Come here,” I beg.

Without a word, Cardan complies, getting up from his seat to sit right next to me. I pivot slightly, leaning sideways into the booth. He strokes my hair back soothingly, and traces my lips with his still stained fingers. My lips part, just a taste of the cherries slipping through. I moan quietly and he says, “Don’t stop, okay, Jude?” I nod my head as much as I can with the way he holds me. He paints my lips methodically, over and over, and I find my fingers mirroring him between my legs. He watches, fixated on the way my mouth parts and moves, gasping and widening for his fingers to slip through. “I think…I want to do to you what Spring does to cherry trees,” he murmurs. “Open you up…watch you bloom.”

My eyes screw shut tightly. His fingers probe my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. My fingers slide in too, entering with a slow pressure. He strokes inside my mouth and when he tells me to suck it clean, my stomach knots in response. I do; I suck until there is no trace of cherry left, no red stains or residue, and I finger myself in tandem. He pulls out of my mouth, a trail of spit losing connection when he finds his way under the jacket, following my hand, and adding his finger to my two. I whimper at his intrusion, and think, disoriented, three. Three fingers.

He licks up my chin before he kisses me, letting me taste the forgotten smudge he’d left on me, while he slowly works both our digits inside of me the way he wants. I hold on to his sweater with my free hand, fingers gripping tightly as my toes begin to curl. My painfully quiet whines are being swallowed by him greedily.

I yank him closer to me when the waitress comes by. I forget to breathe when she makes a squeak and with horror, my eyes flit to her blushing cheeks. She smiles bashfully, “Oh don’t mind me,” she says, not at all realizing what is happening under the table, “Here’s the bill, you love birds,” she giggled. God, we must look like teenagers making out back here.

Cardan pulls away only slightly, fingers replacing my frozen ones gently pushing them away, and sliding his two fingers deeper into me. My head falls forward, hiding my face in his sweater when he curves them just right. “Sorry,” He tells the waitress, holding my gaze. “I just missed her so much,” he lies. “Missed her in my arms,” he murmurs.

“Oh hush, don't be sorry,” the waitress says almost fondly and I feel only partially sick over it. She sounds further away, “I was young once too.”

“Missed her pretty face when I made her come,” Cardan continues, speaking to me alone, lips touching mine every so often. He pumps me faster and I take a chunk of his sweater into my mouth, biting down on it so hard my jaw hurts. “Missed the way she felt when her pussy gripped my fingers.” I feel like I’m on the brink of death, gasping for breath, eyes starting to gloss. He holds my head back, making sure I’m in view of him. My ears feel like I’m underwater; everything is static except for Cardan and his words. For a moment, I forget where I am. He swallows my screams when I can't hold back, rubbing his fingers roughly, forcing my body to twitch against his. I bite down on his lips so hard but he takes it in stride, until I’m slumped against him, feeling absolutely weightless. He pulls away from me to kiss my forehead too softly for the utter seismic orgasm he’d just given me. When I lean back, Cardan looks as flushed as I feel. For once, his cheeks are the ones that are red and his forehead is glistening with sweat. His eyes are dazed, his lips swollen and red.

“I… Are you okay?” I asked almost in a slur. I trace his cheek up to his ear, flicking the cross earring dangling from the first piercing. His dark eyes pierce mine when he brings his still wet fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

He smiles languidly, reaching in his pocket for a few bills I know is far over the actual amount necessary. He gets up first and leads me out of the booth. I use my jacket to cover myself up, and in a muddle, we walk out of the diner, hand in hand.

He kisses me sweetly when we get to his car, and I kiss him back, because we can, for right now. He opens his trunk and I dig out the first pair of necessary clothing I find in my overnight bag and then he opens the door to the backseat for me, standing lookout as I awkwardly try to change.

“Cardan?” I ask when we’re on the road again. “Are you okay?” he’d been silent since I asked the first time back at the diner, I realize belatedly.

His smile is lazy and maybe even disoriented. “I don’t even like cherries,” he finally mumbles.

I glance at his fingers instinctively, like I can still see the filling there. “Is it…is it out of your system?”

His brows furrow almost comically. “Cherries?”

“Me,” I tell him. When he doesn't answer, I explain, “We can't do this at home, Cardan… our parents…” he snorts at that, but never really gives me an answer.

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Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

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arkos404 · 1 year

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the step siblings trio but theyre wearing outfits i found on pinterest and thought looked cool

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho fanart #tome kurata #teruki hanazawa #sho suzuki #shou suzuki #step siblings au #arkos draws #i am obsessed with this au you have no idea #this is the drawing that made me realize theyre the powerpuff colors #maybe i should call them that instead #the powerpuff trio #nah step siblings is more explanative #serirei adopts the 3 of theem #thats it thats the au

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cadetcama · 2 years

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Hey I really love your hsmtmts step siblings au. I’m curious, how do envision that mike and lily’s mom met, what’s her relation with Ricky and who would you choose to portray her?

Oh man the way I have MISSED talking about the step siblings au so thank you from the bottom of my heart for sending me this ask

So Lily's mom is named Violet. She is a badass business lady. A while after the divorce from Lily's dad, she buys a newer, bigger house (that happens to be in the North High zone, while Lily's dad lives the East High zone). But the newer, bigger house needs some work... so... she hires a contractor do some renovations.

And who does she hire???

Why one Mike Bowen, of course!!

She wants the basement finished, kitchen updated, windows replaced, master bathroom redone, and some other little things here and there (like her closet expanded).

So Mike's around a LOT for a while. Like he gets this job around Ricky's spring break and it's not finally finished till like summer. So it's a big job and he's around a LOT. Violet's fairly nitpicky about things so she's constantly calling Mike about this or that or wanting more samples for paint options or windows or whatever. Mike and Violet start dating about halfway through.

For Violet, think Marley Shelton (if you want to see what she looks like not red carpet glam, google her in Rise)

As for Violet and Ricky...

Ricky is VERY suspicious about Violet. Like he's happy his dad is happy but with LILY'S MOM?? What are they planning?? He's also not thrilled that he and his dad move into Lily and Violet's house after Mike and Violet have been dating for like 3 months.

But... Violet gets groceries delivered every week and frequently asks Ricky if there's anything specific he wants. He always does and she always gets it for him. So Ricky's got all the snacks and sugary cereal he could ever want.

Violet also doesn't try to be his mom or his friend. She's an adult and talks to him like an adult. But she doesn't try to push him on anything. She's very blunt, but she's also willing to just let him be. She works from home a lot and is often like on her phone, emailing or stuff, but the first time Ricky goes to her for advice, she puts her phone down and closes her computer, full attention on Ricky before he's even done asking if they can talk.

Violet wins Ricky over by being consistent, there when he needs/wants her, and also feeding him.

#step siblings au #camas hcs #cama gets asks #ricky bowen

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youneedsomeprompts · 1 month

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~ WE'RE FAMILY NOW ~ BLENDED/STEP FAMILY PROMPTS

requested by: @boredom-juvenilefiction & @zzzhoonie requests: could you do some prompts for a blended family?; you’re so cool 😭😭😭🫶🏼 by any chance do you have any ideas for step family relationships between new siblings? like them trying to bond or put up with each other? prompts or dialogue would be most helpful TT

Feel free to use and reblog!

having clashing daily routines so they have to figure out compromises

they need a room where they can be for themselves now more than ever

their step family members come to care for them more than most of their blood relatives do

new topics of conversation come up during family dinner

they finally have someone on their side as a new family member surprisingly shares the same opinion on a matter they have always been alone on

a bigger family means it's easier to hide

they finally have someone their age at home which turns out to be a lot of fun

they suddenly have to share everything with people that are basically strangers. gross

since they're living with their new step family, clothes are somehow disappearing from their closet. now they're waiting to catch the thief red-handed

since the family has been extended, they're doing a lot more family activities for 'bonding' but it's actually turning out fun

even though they're not their blood, they would defend them with their life

it's nice to know that someone who isn't blood-related would give their life for you

it's called family because you're sharing everything, not because we're from the same bloodline

it's a blessing and a curse to be part of a blended family

the blended family is so big that it's always confusing outsiders who try to understand the relations

#blended family prompts #step family prompts #step siblings prompts #blended family au #step family au #writing prompts #prompt list #otp prompts #prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writers on tumblr #writeblr #otp #fluff prompts #scenario prompts #setting prompts #15 prompts

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months

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Her Valentine

Stepsister!Wanda x Male Reader

For @lifespectator and @aloneodi

Valentines Day Special

“Are you crazy?” Your stepsister Wanda asked you but it was playful and with a slight giggle. She grabs the pillow on your couch and playfully smacks you with it.

“I don’t see the big deal,” you say with a smirk. “Mom and Dad want us to bring dates for Valentine’s Day dinner and I want to bring you”

“Detka” she moans and groans, “you really want them to know about us?”

“I have had the most amazing time of my life with you,” you caress your thumb across her cheek. “And I want the whole world to know about you and me”

Wanda giggles and collapses against your chest. “You’re serious?”

You kiss her forehead, “Wanda you’re my friend, my love, my very soul. I’m ready when you are”

“Okay” she smiles at you, “I’m ready to tell them”

It’s now Valentines Day. You picked Wanda up from her college dorm. She stands before you, dressed in a simple red blouse and cardigan.

“Wow” you whisper, “you look amazing”

Wanda blushes and eyes you up and down, “I could say the same about you, detka”

You lead her out to your car, pausing to open the door for her too. The drive to your childhood home was one full of anticipation and a little bit of dread.

“What if my papa is not happy with this?” Wanda asks you a little worried.

“We’re responsible adults now. I guess they’ll just have to be okay with it.” You shrug, “but I want his approval. Even if he wasn’t my stepdad, he’s still important to me too”

You approach your childhood home and walk arm in arm with Wanda. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was from being in her presence or the anxiety of what was to come.

Your mother was the one to answer the door, “(Y/N), Wanda! Happy Valentine’s Day my loves” she giggles before hugging the two of you. “Where’s your dates?”

You tried to answer but Wanda spoke up, “right here,” she gave you a playful jostle, “had to get Y/N’s head out of the books sometime”

Your mom gave a little roll of her eyes. Your stepfather Django was kind of shocked that you and Wanda didn’t bring any dates with you.

“I’m surprised at the two of you,” Django says, “Wanda you were telling me that you were dating someone nice.”

“I am, Papa” Wanda says with a little smile. “I know they’re the one I can’t live without”

“And what about you, Y/N?” Your mother said, “what can you tell us about your girlfriend? She didn’t bother to come”

“My girlfriend is amazing,” you sneak a little glance at Wanda. She gives you the go ahead. It was the moment of truth.

“I’ve loved her for so long. I was content before thinking all we could be was friends, close like siblings, but I know she feels the same…” you feel your resolve weaken just for a split second but then it strengthens again, “I did bring my date this year. And I know that Wanda is the only woman I will ever love”

Django’s eyes go wide. And so do your mother’s. Wanda’s hand moves across the table and clasps yours.

“Y/N is my detka,” Wanda smiles at you, “papa this was only recent. Y/N’s been there for me through everything. I love him and I don’t want anyone else.”

Django looks to you and Wanda but he says nothing. Wanda takes a deep breath.

“I love him and if that’s not alright with you, then I…I…”

“I approve,” Django smiles. “Y/N is perfect for you.”

“Really?” You look to your stepfather, he gives you a nod.

Your mother embraces Wanda, she gently says, “You’re the most amazing young woman, Wanda. Seeing you and Y/N grow together…it’s beyond words.”

Django hugs your mom and looks at you and Wanda. “Just no funny business under this roof” he gives you a wink. You try to hide a blush of embarrassment.

Wanda giggles and hugs you tight. “Of course, Papa” she answers for you.

Valentines Day. You were never really one for it. But now you look forward to it every year. A time for love. A time for joy. A time to remember the day you were able to admit to the whole world how much you were in love with Wanda Maximoff.

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fistfuloflightning · 6 months

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Arakáno | the high chieftain

Day 2: Exile - Arrival to Beleriand | Fingon | Argon | Elenwë for @nolofinweanweek

#nolofinweanweek #nolofinweanweek2023 #the silmarillion #argon #arakano #my art #tolkien art #he’s a fascinating character all the more for how little tolkien actually wrote about him #since he seems to exist just to die #but he was noted as the tallest of the siblings and a fierce warrior and then died practically the moment he stepped foot in beleriand #there’s an au in my brain that he leaves mandos and with all of his family gone he ends up bonding with his cousin’s ex #and slowly falling for her #and perhaps amarie feels the same #finrod willingly left her behind and she knows she’s not going to get him back until he dies #perhaps it’s time for her to move on as well

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emily-mooon · 4 months

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Hopping on the swap AU train with my personal favourite swap I’ve seen: Young Neil and Stacey.

#the reason why Neil has flowers as his last name now is because in the swap au panel edits by @mischaqueen #they make ramona and neil step siblings which I think is pretty fun #I also gave Neil one of those late 70s mobile phones (this is a real thing I’m not kidding a bbc kids show from the era had a segment #about it)#it’s because I didn’t want to have the phone chord going nowhere #also Stacey’s shirt is a combo of Neil’s comic panel shirt and the Mario star shirt she wears in volume 2 #also also continuing my style experimentation #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim comic #scott pilgram takes off #young neil #neil nordegraf #stacey pilgrim #swap au #role swap au

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angelsdean · 1 month

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love watching a totally random show and immediately being jumpscared by an spn actor

#it was a 90s sitcom by dad put on bc the dad from veronica mars was in it and we recently finished watching VM #and then his character was on a date with Samantha Smith #i was like. Mary winchester ?????#also my brain immediately thought. AU crossover fic where Mary lives and remarries Keith mars and they work as PI’s #slash hunters #and dean and Veronica are step siblings getting up to mystery solving shenanigans #(and Sam is there too I guess)#vic.txt

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trivia-yandere · 10 months

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paid in full

"all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired. masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom writer: lyse word count: 10.116 warning: step-siblings, smut, blackmail, kissing (f on f), nipple sucking, wet dreams, alcohol intake, intake, kissing (m on f), fingering, dirty talking, praising, squirting,

“Sit straight.” your mother hisses quietly to you but her smile never falters. “They’ll be here any minute.”

You do as you’re told quietly, seething in your seat. You feel uncomfortable in the dress you were forced into by your mother and your feet are killing you - also thanks to your dear mother.

Your mother - back a few months ago - had met a man. You were less than surprised by that fact. Your mother has never not been single throughout your life. She assured whatever she or you needed that a man would be the one providing it. Boyfriend #19 had taken you to a father-daughter dance before she left him for the next.

Your father was once in the picture, but was later chased off by your mother; her claiming that neither of you needed a man with less income than her. It was laughable - because her income was never her own.

Now, the two of you are seated in a lavish restaurant with high ceilings equipped with chandeliers and classical music. Your mother is now going to introduce you to one of her latest catches - a man named Joon-sik. You rarely remember the names of such men, you would rather categorize them by Boyfriend, Fiance and Husband and whatever number they were. Your mother was married only twice, both marriages ending after a year. She was engaged a handful of times and the boyfriends were endless - and you counted the ones after you were born.

“He’s here.” your mothers tone is one of excitement and nervousness. “Stand up.”

You’re robotic. Your eyes scan whoever was strolling towards the two of you - and you’re left confused. A man is walking towards the pair of you, a light smile on his lips. He fits the part - elegant suit tailored to his size, dress shoes that you’re sure you can see your reflection on and light jewelry but not enough to be flashy.

“Who is that behind him?” you murmur the question to your mother and she only giggles in response, waving at the man.

“His son.”

Your throat goes dry when both men approach closer. Joon-sik’s son is tall, even taller than him. He stands out in this environment. Tight fitted black shirt with light blue jeans. Hi. His compact boots stood out just as the rest of his appearance did. Your initial thought was that he wore an undershirt with graphic sleeves, but as they came closer to your table, you realized that it was a sleeve of tattoos.

You gulp at the sight of the taller boy - man, because a boy could never look like him. His hair appeared soft; black and wavy. Was that a lip piercing?

“Joon-sik.” your mother cannot contain her excitement when he reaches the table. She rounds it and engulfs him into a hug, but you don’t watch. It’s difficult to remove your eyes from the unnamed man behind Joon-sik.

“This is my daughter.” your ears hear your mother say and finally you’re released from your trance.

Your reactions are robotic once more. You’ve been through this countless times. You smile at the man and bow slightly.

“This,” the man turns slightly to his son. He ushers him closer. “Is my son Jungkook.” he introduces proudly.

Jungkook offers a smile and you feel hot. His teeth are straight and pearly white and his lips appear gloss-like - not a crack in sight.

Your mother appears happy. You’re unsure if it’s genuine or if Joon-sik has a large enough bank account and will that causes her to smile. Nonetheless, Joon-sik is seemingly a nice man. He’s speaking with the two of you normally, asking you questions about your life - even if your mother does answer for you.

Jungkook doesn’t speak much but the relationship with his father was pure. His father speaks of his achievements proudly and you feel envious. It was obvious that Jungkook was not forced to be someone he wasn’t - forced into fancy clothes like you and to “sit politely” or “engage in the conversation”.

“Y/N-ah.” Joon-sik speaks. “I heard you’re applying to several universities.”

You nod your head while sipping your water.

“She applied late.” your mother sighs. “She wished to take a break after high school.”

You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your mother didn’t approve of the couple of years you took off to focus on yourself and gain work experience. But of course, this is a woman that hasn’t worked in years and opted in having others pay for whatever was needed.

“Jungkook had, as well.” Joon-sik smiles at you. “He’s actually going in the next few months.”

You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you. Panicked, you looked away.

“Oh!” your mother clasps her hands together. “You should apply to the same one.”

“It’s an amazing art institution.” Joon-sik nods. “Jungkook is into photography mostly, but he also dabbles in dancing from time to time. Paintertry, videography.”

You’re impressed and allow your eyes to glance at Jungkook. You wouldn’t take him for a man that dances, but you don’t wish to judge a book by its cover..

Jungkook chuckles lowly, a soft tint on his cheeks.

“That’s amazing.” your mother compliments and you want to scoff. She told you from her own mouth that pursuing art was a waste of time - but that couldn’t be said to the man she was pursuing.

“What are you into, Y/N-ah?” Joon-sik asks you.

“Y/N also into…art.” your mother giggles and gently taps your thigh. She doesn’t know what type of art, she hasn’t bothered to ask or appear interested.

You nod your head and your ears pick up on light chuckling.

You feel your body grow hot with embarrassment. Was he laughing at you?

“I see.” Joon-sik's smile doesn’t falter. “If you’d like,” he glances between you and Jungkook. “You can go to the same institution. I know people and getting you in wouldn’t be an issue.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to your mother. She slightly nods her head and you return your eyes to Joon-sik. “That would be amazing.” you respond.

Jungkook takes a sip of his drink and hums lowly to himself. His eyes flicker between you and your mother and he’s positive that you were nothing but a puppet and had been since your childhood; possibly even birth. You hadn’t had the chance to speak until now with permission.

“Now that introductions are out of the way.” Joon-sik raises his glass - a wine glass that had gone untouched since a server had poured it. “We have to tell the two of you something.”

You swallow.

Joon-sik grasps your mothers hands. “We’re getting married.”

You weren’t shocked at the news, but Jungkook stiffens visibly.

“And we’re moving in together!” your mother squeals.

That was new in a way. The men your mother dealt with never had children, and if they did you never met them. You moved from house to condo, apartment back to house throughout your life. But never with a “sibling” figure.

“That’s kind of fast.”

Jungkook’s voice is deep, but not shockingly so.

“It is.” Joon-sik agrees. “But I’m not as young as you, son. When you find the one…” he nods at your mother. “...you do what it takes to keep her.”

You’re uncertain how Jungkook feels. This wasn’t new to you. You dealt with your mothers shenanigans your entire life. However, you’re unsure how Jungkook spent his life. Was his mother involved unlike your father? Did Joon-sik have countless girlfriends, fiance’s and wives?

Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Y/N begged me for a sibling once upon a time.” your mother giggles. “Now you have a brother!”

You’re embarrassed once more but you don’t allow yourself to say anything.

Jungkook connects his eyes to yours. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, it’s pink and wet and you’re disturbed that you’re even watching it coat his lips.

“Step-brother.” Jungkook comments low and you’re positive it’s more to you than to your mother’s comment.

The large estate Jungkook and Joon-sik called home was massive and the biggest you’ve ever seen; and you’re seen a lot.

By the following month your mother and you had moved into the estate and called it your home.

The estate was so large that you rarely saw your mother - she and Joon-sik occupied the right side of the estate while you and Jungkook occupied the left. The two of you shared a kitchen and dining area, a large sitting area and you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom connected to your room. It was as if you had your own apartment away from your mother.

Your eyes follow the amount of cereal options displayed and hum. You were hungry and wanted nothing but a quick and light snack - you decided on cereal.

You decided on a box of marshmallow cereal. You grasp the box and pry it open, licking your lips with anticipation.

You’ve come to realize that everything in the estate was fit for a tall man such as Jungkook. The bowls are inside of a cabinet high up. You always need to climb the counter just to get it, which is what you do. Your knees are planted onto the cold marble counter tops and your hand reaches for the bowl when another one shoots out and grabs the same bowl you were reaching for.

You yelp in surprise, body turning until you’re seated on said countertop.

Jungkook stands behind you, dangerously close. He holds the bowl in his hands, eyes watching your face for a reaction.

You swallow.

“Good girl.”

You feel hot at his words, but you shake your head. “W-what?”

“Your nickname.” Jungkook mumbles. “Good girl suits you.”

Jungkook places the bowl beside you on the counter, but he doesn’t step away from you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you cannot release any response.

“You’ve been here for a month now and you do nothing but stay home.” Jungkook continues. He comes even closer and now, he’s directly between your legs. “You allow your mother to speak for you constantly. Even as an adult, you listen to her commands.”

You’re taken aback. Was Jungkook…reading you? He had met you a month ago at dinner and since then, had clocked everything that has happened in your life - and he kept it to himself until now.

“You’re a good girl that does what she’s told.”

Your eyes stare into Jungkook’s, neither eyes blinking. His words replay in your mind nonstop.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Or do you need permission to speak?”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to your question.

“It’s easy for you to say.” you quip. “Your father lets you do whatever you want.”

Jungkook furrows a brow.

“You don’t have expectations to live up to.” you continue.

“Good girls talking back now.” Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. “Have you ever done anything she didn’t like?”

You don’t respond but instead ponder on his question.

No, you haven’t. Your mother was strict when it came to her rules and you’ve done your best to always obey them.

“That’s a no.” Jungkook snorts. “There’s a party tonight.”

You raise your brows at his words.

“At a college that a friend of mine attends. You should come.”

You have never been to a party like that. You’ve gone to birthday celebrations and business gatherings with your mother - to mingle, she says - but never to a college party.

Jungkook watches your face twist and contort in confusion. You were struggling and now he understands this is probably your first real party - not something your mother would be there for.

“Or do you need mother’s permission?” Jungkook teases.

You gulp, feeling your cheeks redden. He was teasing you and you didn’t like it.

“I don’t…have a way there.” you attempted to turn down his invitation.

“You can come with me.” Jungkook shrugs. “I want to introduce you to a few friends.”

Seems like you need them, Jungkook wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He never met anyone so sheltered before. Sure, he heard a mouth full from his father that he needed to become more “brotherly” towards you, but that didn’t mean his intentions were counterfeit.

“Would there be…” your words trail off and Jungkook waits for you to continue. “...drugs?��

Jungkook is silent at your question, but at your serious face and large curious eyes, he cackles.

“W-what’s funny?”

“You watch too much TV.” Jungkook laughs. “I don’t take drugs…but if you-”

“No!” you hiss with a head shake. “I don’t-”

“Relax.” Jungkook places his hands on your thighs - you're soft, he notes, bare thighs sitting against the counter. “No drugs. Alcohol and weed, yes. But there's water and other refreshments.”

You nod your head. You were skeptical of agreeing to this party. You and his friends had to be different and you were more than positive that Jungkook pitied you more than anything. But, this would possibly be your chance at a real college party. With drunk party goers and dancing with loud music - maybe even the police would come and shut it down because of how intense it would be.

“No.” your mother scoffs and walks around you. “We don’t do college parties.” she shakes her head once more. “How would that benefit you?”

You had gained enough courage to ask your mother for permission to go to a party. Jungkook had insisted that you didn’t need to because, of course, you were an adult. However, you had never gone against your mother before and there couldn’t be a reason for you to suddenly start now.

“Exactly.” your mother quips. “Instead of a party, why don’t you mingle with someone that can elevate you?”

You gulp at her words.

Your mother doesn’t dwell on the question and you don’t bother to answer. Nor do you bother to dwell on the party. You ate dinner alone in the large kitchen, not bothering to occupy the dining room.

You decided on a late night shower to hole up in your own misery. You should have listened to Jungkook when he stated that you didn’t need your mothers permission, but going against her terrified you. It peaked your anxiety that there would be a chance that you’d disappoint her.

A knock sounds at your door when you turn off the shower faucet. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer it, and Jungkook is standing behind it. His arms are crossed and he offers a slight smirk when you open the door. He’s sporting a dark shirt with a matching dark leather jacket. His jeans are light washes with rips at the knees with a pair of compact boots - you ponder if they’re the same one or a different pair.

“I’m glad you’re getting ready.”

You release a shaky breath.

Jungkook frowns. “Oh.” he hums. “Mother dearest said no.”

There’s a tone in Jungkook’s voice, you note. A teasing tone, a “I told you so” tone.

“I’m saddened, Good Girl.” Jungkook places a hand above his heart. “I told my friends that my step-sister will be making an appearance.”

You feel small beneath his gaze. Your hair is wet and droplets of water are dripping down onto the robe and onto the floor.

“I-I…I’m sorry.” you apologize, having nothing else to say.

Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t be.” he assures. “There’ll be more parties. This one was going to be at one of my friends' homes. Taehyung is his name.” Jungkook uncrosses his arms. “Well, goodbye Good Girl. I’m having the drivers take me now.”

Jungkook turns away from your door and you call after him. “You don’t drive?”

“Of course I do.” Jungkook calls back, not bothering to turn around. “But I don’t drink and drive, Good Girl.”

Jungkook’s words replay in your mind. He told his friends about you - that you’d be coming. You were amazed that you truly wanted to go to this party and see how people your age were. You didn’t have many friends, mainly acquaintances that your mother deemed “profitable”. You only ever had one boyfriend who, again, was chosen by your mother and that ended horribly.

You dry your hair and add a product, a leave-in conditioner so your hair wouldn’t become frizzy. You take a deep breath while adding lotion to your exposed skin while watching your reflection.

An hour had since gone past and you were tip-toeing outside of your room and outside of the estate. It was quiet and the sky was dark and starless. Your feet dragged you outside the estate and towards the large gates.

You knock on the large SVU window, the tints made it hard for you to look inside.

The window rolls down and an older man sits behind the wheel. He furrows a brow at you.

“Can you take me to…Taehyung’s house?” you ask, unsure how to ask the question without becoming more confused. “Where Jungkook is.”

“Get in.” the man nods his head and unlocks the door. You quickly got into the backseat and put your seatbelt on. Your heart is racing and your eyes watch the estate as if your mother would be coming out any moment.

You never snuck out of your home before. There wasn’t a reason to, not until now.

You were a young adult and cannot say you’ve gone to a party or had a taste of alcohol. Your mother assured you that you always appeared on guard, that someone was always watching even when you assumed they weren’t.

The drive pulls up to a large estate and now you feel even more out of place than before. Loud music is playing and hundreds of people are outside of the estate.

You thanked the driver and made your way towards the estate. You stood out like a sore thumb - you wore a loose fitted button up shirt and a skirt that stopped a few inches before your knees. The party goers dressed more scandalous than you and there was evidence of drinking. The girls swayed with the music while the men stood close behind them.

Your eyes trailed around for a familiar face - Jungkook didn’t appear to be anywhere.

You were just glad to be here, even after 30 minutes of not finding Jungkook. You held your cup of juice close to you and lightly nodded your head to the music.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook catches you from up the stairs. He was tipsy when he caught your figure - the only person dressed as if she was going to the library. He had left a drunk Jimin nodding off against the wall to make his way towards you.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, a sigh of relief releasing for your lips. “I…I made it.”

Jungkook snorts. “You did. Mother dearest decided to let you leave?”

You shake your head. You lift your head higher. “I snuck out.” you murmur, a sense of pride.

Jungkook fights back his laughter. He doesn’t want you to think he is laughing at you, because he’s not. Or he doesn’t want to, at least. But sneaking out to go to a party as a young adult appears completely childish. But here you stand, eyes shining with such mischief and delight that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel your excitement.

“What are you drinking?”

“Apple juice.” you raise the cup slightly. “I never had alcohol.”

“Never?” Jungkook raises a brow and whistles lowly. “You’re actually a good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to be drunk. Five shots to be exact. You were introduced to Jungkook’s friends, the majority of them already drunk and overly friendly. They were kind to you, speaking with you as if they’ve known you just as long as they’ve known Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t hide his laughter when it comes to you any longer. You’re loud - louder than he’s ever seen you be in the last month - and you appear happy. You let loose, no longer uptight and constantly checking to see if your mother is around the corner to scold you.

Ji-ah, a friend of Jungkook’s, wraps a hand around your wrist once she see’s you stumbling off. She’s tall with a slender build. Her hair is long and dyed a rose-gold color and you envied how confident she was upon meeting her.

“Where are you heading?” she asks. She’s drunk, but has enough liquor throughout the years to know how to function just fine.

“I have…to pee.” you sigh out and Ji-ah laughs.

“Follow me.” Ji-ah keeps your wrist in a firm hold. “I’ll transport you there safely.”

Ji-ah speaks as you’re peeing, her face in the mirror to check her makeup all the while you’re a few feet away. You met her tonight, as well, but she was comfortable enough to accompany you inside the large bathroom. She talks to you; so fast that you miss a few words - or sentences. But you’re just glad that you had to experience your first college party.

You’re washing your hands when Ji-ah asks you. “What do you think of Jungkook?”

Your mind is blurry and appearing to be in slow motion, yet fast paced.

“He’s cool.” you murmur to her, shaking your wet hands. “Hot.”

Your eyes widen dramatically at your words and at this, Ji-ah cackles. She’s seated on the bathroom counter and hops off of it to stand besides you.

“I won’t tell.” she winks and lifts her index finger to her lips. “Jungkook calls you good girl. Are you a virgin?”

Your cheeks redden but you shake your head.

“Ah,” Ji-ah moans. “You slut!”

You’re taken aback by her tone. Once more, Ji-ah cackles. “I’m just kidding.” she assures. “You reach slut status when you’re on my level.”

You blink a few times. “What’s slut status?”

“Depends.” Ji-ah responds. “What have you done sexually?”

You feel like you’re under a microscope at Ji-ah’s intense stare. “Okay. How about this,” Ji-ah leans against the counter. “I’ll ask yes or no questions.”

You nod.

You haven’t done a lot, Ji-ah notes, and she’s astonished that she’s met someone that hasn’t. She notes that you had a boyfriend who you lost your virginity to back in high school, but the things you’ve done with him were limited.

“So you went down on him but he didn’t do the same?” Ji-ah hisses with a head shake. “This is why I’m a lesbian now.”

Ji-ah had heard you speak of your past sexual adventures and needless to say, there wasn’t any adventure. Or excitement.

“You need to live a little.” Ji-ah exclaims. “Luckily for you, you and I are going to be best friends.”

Your eyes widen at her words. You never had a best friend, as sad as it was.

“And I can teach you the in’s and out’s of sex.” Ji-ah places both hands on your shoulders.

Jungkook opened every door in sight, not bothering to apologize if someone was behind it enjoying their privacy. You were gone and he had not seen you for close to an hour. You were obviously drunk - and already being an inexperienced, shy and naive person, you were bound to be taken advantage of. You were exposed to this world and if anything happened to you, he’d be ridden with guilt.

Jungkook pushes open another door and sighs in relief before knitting his brows.

Ji-ah and you were both seated on the floor of the large bathroom, lips placed upon one another.

“Are you two making out?” Jungkook asks, genuinely questioning. He didn’t know you were into women, yet Ji-ah also had a habit of having women in her grasp that never went that way.

You turn several shades of red and Ji-ah only giggles.

“I was teaching Y/N how to kiss.” Ji-ah declares. “Can you believe such a hot piece of ass has never had a good sexual experience?”

“J-Ji-ah!” you hiss. You were already embarrassed upon having Jungkook find you in such a position. You were positive that he thought you were nothing but a loser that hasn’t experienced the basic life like they had.

Jungkook flickers his eyes between you and Ji-ah. He was glad you’re okay and not (seemingly) taken advantage of. You were safe with Ji-ah and now he and you could go home before your mother found out.

“Good girl.” Jungkook places a hand for you to take. “Let’s go home before mother dearest comes searching for you.”

Ji-ah frowns.

“You have hundreds of girls here to kiss, Ji.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once he helps you up from the bathroom floor.

“I was just helping out your sister.” Ji-ah scoffs. “You men could never satisfy a woman like a woman can.”

You wish Ji-ah would shut up. Jungkook didn’t need to know anything else about your sex life - or lack of.

Jungkook snickers at Ji-ah, but he turns and takes a step out the door. “Step-sister.” was all he responded to her.

You and Jungkook stumble through the door. Your mother was asleep still and that was good - not like she would have noticed. She occupied the opposite end of the estate and you and she didn’t speak unless it was necessary. Still, your anxiety of her finding out lingered on your sober mind and only when you began to drink was when you felt safe.

Jungkook opens up the freezer and takes out a large tub of ice cream. He grasps two spoons from the cupboard and makes his way towards you. Opening it, he doesn’t hesitate in digging his spoon in and downing it.

“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asks after the third scoff of ice-cream.

You nod your head, humming when the cold sweet reaches your throat. “It was so much fun. I don’t really remember it all.” you scoff. It hasn’t even been a day yet and your mind is already hazy.

Jungkook chuckles. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ji-ah and her words. You didn’t look like the type to have sexual adventures - not like Ji-ah at least. But now he finds himself wondering what you did experience - he cannot imagine seeing you in such a way. You, a shy girl who blushes at everything and has to ask mother dearest for permission for nearly everything.

“What would mother dearest think if she found out you snuck out?”

“She’d kill me.” you respond without missing a beat. Of course not literally, but her wrath would be insane. It would bring out her disappointment in you and that’s not what you desired to experience.

“I see.” Jungkook places the spoon of ice cream in his mouth and swallows. “What if I told her?”

You freeze in your spot, eyes slowly lifting to Jungkook.

Your breath hitches.

“What?” you murmur.

“What if I told her you snuck out and got drunk?” Jungkook questions, voice deep and serious. You feel your heart beat outside your chest.

“Why would you?”

You were beginning to think that Jungkook and you could form a friendship. That the two of you could be close as he and his friends were, that maybe even his friends would soon be yours.

But that’s not what Jungkook wanted - that was never his intention.

Was his intentions were to trick you into sneaking out so he could blackmail you? To publicly embarrass you to your mother to see what she would do to you.

“I won’t tell your mother. But you’d be indebted to me.” Jungkook eats the sweet without hesitation. “And all debts must be paid in full.” says Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.

Of course, Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. He wouldn’t take advantage of you in the slightest - but he wanted you to live. He wanted to see the same woman he saw last night; the woman who laughed and danced without looking over her shoulders.

Jungkook also had no plans on telling your mother anything, but in order to see the you he saw a few hours prior, he would hold this “debt” over your head.

You inhale, dropping your spoon. Was Jungkook blackmailing you?

“I-I-”

”I want you to have fun and be a normal young adult. Come to more parties with me. Hang out with my friends and I. Stand up to mother dearest.” Jungkook explains. He didn’t need you thinking he wanted you to offer yourself to him in exchange for loyalty. “Live your own life the way you want to and not the way she does.”

You cross your arms, ears ringing as they replayed his words over and over again.

You enjoyed your time at the party. Jungkook’s friends were good people and Ji-ah appeared genuine and true to herself. For the first time, you felt content with going somewhere not having to mingle and social climb - to just be yourself and have fun.

“What do you say, good girl?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I know you had fun tonight. There’s always something to do.”

You slowly exhaled the breath you were holding. Jungkook’s words were convincing and he didn’t seem to be a bad person.

You nod your head in agreement and it causes Jungkook to smile. He nods his head. “Good. Starting first thing tomorrow.” he drops his spoon and claps his hand. “You should drink some water and get some rest. You might have a hang-over tomorrow.”

A hangover was correct. You woke up with your head pounding. Details of the night before replay in your head - the little you remembered. You decided that a hot shower would have to do the trick before you swallowed any medication. You were a mess, dried up saliva on your cheeks and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was a mess, appearing more like a bird's nest than anything.

The water was hot against your skin and it was exactly what you needed. Steam surrounds the bathroom and you begin to hum low to yourself as you lather your skin with body wash.

“Good girl.”

You yelp loudly at the words. Your eyes open to find Jungkook outside the shower - a standing shower with see-through doors. You go to hide your body, but there isn’t much to hide without a towel or curtain.

Jungkook is shirtless, arms crossed over his bare chest as his eyes rake your body.

“J-J-”

Jungkook makes his way closer to you and you feel yourself ready to die. He opens the door to the shower and pushes himself inside. He takes off the sweats he wore along with his underwear and throws them aside.

You push yourself away from him, your back hitting the cold stonewall of the shower.

“You’re such a beautiful, good girl.” Jungkook’s words murmur. He comes closer, his body getting just as wet as yours. “Such an innocent girl. Tell me, are Ji-ah’s words true?”

Jungkook’s hands reach out to you. He places both of them onto your shoulders, his chest against yours. He’s close, so close that you could feel the vibrations of his chest inhaling and exhaling.

“I…” your throat tightens at the closeness.

“Have you ever had an orgasm, good girl?” Jungkook asks you. “Has a man ever made you cum so hard you screamed and begged them to stop?”

Jungkook’s words are dirty. You feel hot being so close to the naked man. Jungkook’s hands begin to travel down, engulfing your bare breast. His thumbs play with your nipples as his palms grope them.

“Such lovely nipples.” Jungkook hums. “You have such a slutty body. Good girls like you always have the sluttiest bodies.”

Jungkook brings a nipple into his mouth and sucks. You moan out, the feeling of his teeth tugging at your nipple sends shockwaves through your body.

Jungkook is moaning now. His left hand lowers to between your legs, feeling your throbbing clit. He rubs at it at an alarming pace, but you don’t tell him to stop. You never felt a sensation like this before, you swear you can explode.

“Good girl.” Jungkook hisses, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. “My good girl. Say it.”

“Your good girl.” you moan out, eyes snapping close at the feeling.

“Good girl.”

Good girl.

“Good girl!”

You snap your eyes open, jolting out of your slumber.

Jungkook’s eyes are wider at the sudden outburst.

Your throat is dry, your head is pounding and you feel a sticky feeling between your legs.

Jungkook is holding a glass of water in his hands and a bottle of medication in another. He places them down on your nightstand.

“I tried knocking to wake you.” Jungkook says. “But you weren’t awake. You were tossing and turning when I walked in.”

You cough.

DId Jungkook hear you and your wet dream of him?

You felt sick to your stomach. You were a slut - an idiot slut to have such a dream of a man you barely know. Your soon to be step-brother at that.

“Thank you.” you murmur quietly to Jungkook. You take the water in your hands, trembling with nervousness.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions. “Did you have a bad dream?”

You wanted to laugh. Your dream was a bad one - as bad as a wet dream can be.

“Something like that.” you say after you take the pills. “I feel like I've been ran over by a truck.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Hangovers are always like that.” he places a hand on your forehead and you freeze. “Breakfast should cure your hangover. Ji-ah is coming over, too.”

Ji-ah. You remember the tall beauty of a friend Jungkook had.

“Maybe you and her can make out again.” Jungkook teases.

You widen your eyes in horror.

“Kidding!” Jungkook laughs, eyes squinting as he does so. “I’ll let you freshen up for breakfast.”

Jungkook makes his way out of your bedroom, but he stops at the doorway. “You sure you’re okay, good girl?” he asks you.

You nod your head, trying to smile for reassurance but you’re sure it came out more of a grimace.

Jungkook nods his head back at you before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. He would pretend - for your sake - to not know that you were moaning in your sleep, calling yourself his good girl.

Ji-ah lifts up a shirt to show you. “This is cute.” she says and you nod.

Two months had passed since your mother and you had moved in with Joon-sik and Jungkook. You had come out of your shell more when it came to Jook-sik. He was different from your mother’s last partners. He engaged more in your and Jungkook’s lives. He assured that there was a family dinner at least once a week where he’d often asked questions.

Ji-ah and you had become closer and you saw her nearly everyday after meeting her at the party. She would come over most nights and the two of you would talk and laugh for hours until Jungkook would infiltrate the scene.

Jungkook and you had also become close as friends. Most mornings you would come out of your room and stroll down the hall to find Jungkook cooking in the large kitchen. He would have two plates - sometimes more if his friends would be attending - set down on the island. If you weren’t eating dinner with your parents, he would bring in take-out and the pair of you would binge watch whatever tv show was on.

You tried to keep your mind at bay when it came to Jungkook. You couldn’t control your dreams, and the wet dream you had two months prior wasn’t the only one. It disgusts you each time you wake up sweating with the familiar wetness between your legs. Jungkook was attractive, of course, and that frightens you. There were too many times in which Jungkook would walk around without a shirt and it takes everything in you to not stare too long.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Ji-ah waves a hand in front of your face. “You’re spacing out.”

You blink a few times. Ji-ah has a handful of clothes in her arms - dresses, shirts with graphic designs and some crop tops and even the shortest shorts and skirts you’ve ever seen.

“Try these on.” Ji-ah pushes the clothing into your arms.

“I thought these were for you?” you exclaim.

Ji-ah shrugs. “We need to change up your wardrobe, Y/N. You promised.”

You sigh. You did promise that Ji-ah could add a few pieces to your wardrobe, but the amount of clothes she threw into your arms were more than a few pieces.

You and Ji-ah are the only two in the dressing room. You try on a few pieces, all in which Ji-ah forced you to do a walk and turn so she could see it fully.

You were growing exhausted after 30 minutes of trying clothes on. You took a seat inside the dressing room to take a quick break.

Jungkook takes a seat besides Ji-ah who’s gently tapping her foot waiting for you to come out.

“Jimin went to grab our tickets.” Jungkook says. “Are you two still shopping?”

Ji-ah nods. Her stomach churns and she stops tapping her foot to rub her stomach. “Shopping always makes me hungry.”

Jungkook snorts. “Tae’s at the food court. If you go now you’ll make it before he leaves the line.”

Ji-ah's eyes widen and within seconds she’s strutting out of the fitting room and out of the clothing store.

The door opens and Jungkook's eyes trail up to greet you.

“I think this skirt is too short.”

Jungkook hums, you have not noticed him yet. Your eyes were in the mirror. You wore a skirt - a short fitted skirt that hugs your body. Your shirt was just as tight fitted with a deep v-neck cut.

“What do you think about-”

You turn and freeze seeing Jungkook behind you where Ji-ah should be.

“I think it’s nice.” Jungkook responds. “Are you getting it?”

You feel small under Jungkook’s gaze.

“I-I’m not sure.” you respond. “It’s too…”

“Tight?” Jungkook snorts. “Mother dearest wouldn’t approve. More reason to get it.”

Jungkook stands from the chair in the fitted room.

“I don’t think I have anywhere to wear the clothes Ji-ah gave me to try on.” you admit with a short laugh.

Jungkook tilts his head. “I wasn’t going to go,” he begins. “But there’s a group performing at a club. You can wear it there.”

You widen your eyes slightly. “I never-”

“Been to a club.” Jungkook finishes your sentence. “Good girls don’t go to clubs.” he teases.

You rolled your eyes but you were offended.

“I guess I can go.” you say. “Are you sure it isn’t…to much?”

You didn’t want to be an odd one out. You weren’t one to show the amount of skin, and though your mind told you that you looked hot, you still felt conscious.

You turn to look back into the mirror.

“You women do that a lot. You over analyze everything until you no longer think you look good.”

Jungkook is behind you now. Your eyes connect with his in the mirror.

“Do you think you look good?” Jungkook questions.

You nod slightly.

“Say it.” Jungkook quips. “Gain that confidence. Say “I look good.”

“I look good.” you repeat robotically and Jungkook shakes his head.

“Say it like you mean it!”

“I look good.” you repeat, a little louder.

“Good. How good do you look?”

You inhale deeply before exhaling.

“I look…”

Jungkook waits for your response.

“...hot?”

“Is that a question?”

“I look hot!”

You do, Jungkook notes, but he doesn’t want to have his eyes linger on your breast in the reflection.

Jungkook's lips twitch in amusement. “That’s it.” he nods. “That’s my good girl.”

Those words cause you to freeze once more. Your eyes connect to Jungkook’s through the mirror. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but the both of you know the power of his words.

You gulp, flashbacks of the wet dream of you and Jungkook in the shower.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench at his words, but he’s unsure what he’s doing. He didn't forget you the following morning when he came into your room. You were a moaning mess, hair disheveled and voice low and raspy. “I’m your good girl.” replays in his mind over and over again that day - so much so that he had to pump his cock in the shower to just get his cock to deflate.

Ji-ah enters the fitting room loudly, munching on a large pretzel.

Jungkook and you push away from one another.

Ji-ah watches with a raised brow as neither of you say anything. You enter the fitting room and Jungkook excuses himself.

Ji-ah’s mind wanders and slowly, a smirk forms onto her lips, ideas flashing into her mind.

Jungkook downs the shot effortlessly, eyes wandering to the club entrance. You and Ji-ah had yet to arrive and the majority of the group was already tipsy. The music is loud and the lights are flashing non-stop. He sits at the bar with Namjoon and Hoseok, both men chatting amongst the group.

“Waiting for someone?”

The voice belongs to Taehyung that is shouting over the loud music. He leans against the bar, eyes following Jungkook’s line of vision. “Maybe that sister of yours?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Step-sister.”

Taehyung scoffs. “You say that a lot.” he notes. “Would it be weird if you did call her your sister?”

Yes, it would be- because Jungkook doesn’t constantly think about any of his family members like he does with you. You being his sister would mean he couldn’t jack off to the thought of you calling yourself his good girl anymore - no matter how creepy it sounded; because technically, you were asleep. His eyes couldn’t linger on the way you’d lick your lips or the slight way your breast would bounce when you’d laugh.

Damn, Jungkook was a creep. But it was only justified (slightly) because he doesn't consider you his sister.

“I met her three months ago.” Jungkook shrugs.

“True. But Y/N is always around.” Taehyung adds. “You two hit it off quickly.”

Jungkook agrees. You were slowly coming out of your shell and made friends with his friends. Ji-ah and you were growing closer by the day and he was thankful that you didn’t shut down completely with her outgoing personality.

But, that’s all you and Jungkook could be - friends. He couldn’t allow his desires and intrusive thoughts to take advantage of your shyness and naivety.

“So you don’t think of her as a sister?” Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook. “So it would be okay for me to…dance with her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes glance at Taehyung's face that’s illuminating in the light. His eyebrows are raised, waiting for an answer.

Jungkook lowly hums to himself. Was Taehyung interested in you? Were you interested in Taehyung? Did Taehyung ever make advances on you before?

“Are you asking for my permission?” Jungkook questions. “Y/N is her own person.”

Taehyung nods. “She is. But she is also someone who you introduced to us in the guise of her being your sister.”

“Step-sister.” Jungkook murmurs.

“Yes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “So as your friend and she as your step-sister. Would you be alright if I danced with her?”

Jungkook wanted to say no. That you were far too innocent for the likes of a Taehyung - someone who had girls in his bedroom nearly every night and never settled for a relationship. But that would make him a hypocrite. He also brought home women from time to time and rarely thought of seeing any of them as more than a simple fuck.

“Do as you please.” Jungkook shrugs and Taehyung offers him a boxy smile.

“I’m going to talk to her now.” Taehyung points towards the door and Jungkook's throat tightens. He instantly regrets his decision to be nonchalant.

Ji-ah and you had just gotten through the door. You sported a short tight dress, stropping at your thighs. It was black as were the heels you were wearing that tied perfectly up your calf. Your hair was in a ponytail, brushed back so smooth that no flyaway would be present.

Jungkook feels his heart tighten when your eyes catch him and soon you’re strutting over to him.

You don’t make it. Taehyung has gotten to you first.

“What do you think?”

“Huh?”

Ji-ah has taken a seat beside Jungkook and had been for the last ten minutes. She watched as Jungkook seethed as he stared at a laughing Taehyung who tried to get you to dance with him.

“Does she look hot?” Ji-ah wiggles her eyebrows. “Took me almost an hour to get her into that dress.”

Jungkook looks away from you. “Good. I guess.”

Ji-ah sighs. “It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to her.”

Jungkook’s head snaps to Ji-ah. “Who-”

“I’m not an idiot.” Ji-ah interrupts with a wave of her hand. “The sexual tension between the two of you are killing me. I say fuck and get it over with.”

Ji-ah was always blunt.

“You’re insane.” Jungkook hisses.

“You’re insane for letting Taehyung beat you to it.” Ji-ah retorts. “But what do I know?”

Jungkook bites his lip. What did Ji-ah know? You surely talked to her about your former sex life. Have you talked to her about him? Did you have the same intrusive thoughts as he did?

“What do you know?” Jungkook caves and Ji-ah smirks.

“I know enough.” Ji-ah shrugs.

Jungkook seethes.

“I know our little good girl thinks you’re hot.”

Jungkooks eyes widened.

“But she’s far too afraid to act on her attraction.” Ji-ah groans. “I’m sure she thinks it’s taboo.”

Jungkook swallows. You thought he was hot - that was a start.

“That’s all you’re getting from me. Girl code.” Ji-ah stands from her bar stool. “Jimin and Taehyung are coming. Jimin’s fucked. I’m not going to be on babysitting duty.”

Jungkook groans as a drunk Jimin sits beside him, slurring his words.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Taehyung questions, a look of sorrow on his face. Taehyung was put to be the “sober” one of the group tonight. Jimin was already drunk and Hoseok was close behind him. “I’m taking him home and coming back.” he curses beneath his breath at his unlucky night.

But for Jungkook, this was his lucky night. Taehyung was gone and now you wouldn’t be another one of the women who he brought into his bedroom.

“Good girl.” your ears catch the voice instantly, even with the loud music. “I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”

Jungkook is behind you when you turn. You smile and nod your head. “Where has everyone gone?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Jimin is done for the night and Hoseok is on his way there.” he snorts. “Ji-ah is probably looking for someone to makeout with as we speak.”

Jungkook comes closer to wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Shot?”

Ji-ah claps her hands together, Taehyung and Jimin huddled in the corner with her. “Okay, the first part of the plan is in motion.”

Jimin nods as does Taehyung.

“I’m not really sure what the plan is.” Jimin adds. All he recalls is Ji-ah texting him to act drunk and he’s done that part thus far.

“Ugh, you didn’t fill him in?!” Ji-ah snaps at Taehyung.

“I thought you were doing that!” Taehyung snaps back. “This was your plan after all.”

Ji-ah sighs in frustration. It was her plan - to get you and Jungkook to hook up. If anything else blossomed after that - like a relationship or even a “friends with benefit” (or step-siblings with benefits) - then it’d be a win-win for the both of you. Jungkook was attracted to you, even if he would never admit it aloud. You had already admitted your attraction towards Jungkook, but your shyness and obliviousness would get you nowhere without her help.

“She’s trying to get Kook and Y/N to fuck.” Taehyung explains vulgarly. Jimin widens his eyes. “Oh.” he hums. “Is that why he was giving you death eyes earlier?”

Taehyung nods with a cackle.

“Idiots to lovers.” Ji-ah shrugs her shoulders. “They’ll never get there without my help, of course.”

“Are you sure we’re not just interfering?” Jimin questions. “I mean, they are step-siblings who have to see their parents in a relationship.”

Ji-ah shrugs. “They aren’t related nor were they raised together as brother and sister. I say they fuck and get it out of their systems.”

Jimin nods in agreement.

“What’s the other part of the plan?”

Plan B - get both parties tipsy - not drunk. You were looser when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. You danced freely like no one was watching and you were more social. Jungkook was already there but you needed to match his cool.

Ji-ah poured you two shots after shots until she noticed your flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. That was her cue to disappear again into the corner of the room with Taehyung and Jimin.

“I think Hobi and Joon are actually drunk.” Jimin notes, eyes flickering to the dance floor where both men were dancing - Namjoon appearing more disorientated.

“Shit.” Taehyung hisses. “I’m on sober duty.”

“Plan B is in fruition!” Ji-ah cheers. “We can leave them be. If anything happens tonight I can pry it out of Y/N tomorrow.”

“So that’s it?” Jimin ponders aloud.

“Yes. We let them do them for now.” Ji-ah takes her phone out of her crossbody purse. “I’m telling them we’re leaving to take the drunklings home. The rest is up to them.”

“I hope they’ll be okay.” you say to Jungkook after receiving the message from Ji-ah.

“They do this all the time. Get drunk and act a fool.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry if this isn’t the night you expected.”

You shake your head. “I’m having fun!” you declare. Your eyes wander to the sea of people dancing without a care.

“You should go dance.” Jungkook says. “No one is going to be watching you like your mind tells you.”

You don’t feel nervous as you once were. Your body is hot thanks to the alcohol in your system and your mind is repeating Jungkook’s words.

“Dance with me.” you say, getting up from the stool and making your way towards the dance floor.

Jungkook follows you. The flashing lights illuminate your skin and he finds it difficult to take his eyes away from you. The music is energetic and it’s easy for you to follow the floor of everyone else's dance moves.

It was fun, you note, dancing with Jungkook. The both of you laughed as you nearly tripped on your heels and he had to catch you swiftly. You would take your hands in his and bring him closer, especially when the area became stuffed with even more people - all dancing carefree.

You’re close to Jungkook, so close that you can smell his cologne mixed with another smell.

“You smoke?” you shout at him and Jungkook nods hesitantly.

Jungkook had smoked before he came alongside Taehyung.

“Have you ever smoked?” Jungkook leans down to say into your ears, but he knows the answer. Mother dearest would never allow you to smoke.

You shake your head and suddenly, Jungkook’s mind wanders. “Do you want to try?”

You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook rolls the greenish purple substance onto the small paper. You and he sit on his bed as he does so. The club was long forgotten about and there wasn’t a need to stay when you were offered to smoke - it felt scandalous in a way.

Jungkook brings out a lighter and passes you what he had just rolled. “You can try first.” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

You’re nervous, palms sweaty and heart pounding with excitement. Jungkook places the joint between your lips and lights it. “Inhale.”

You do as you’re told, and suddenly you’re a coughing mess.

Jungkook cackles. “First time is rough for everyone.” he assures.

Your throat burns and it’s difficult to stop yourself from coughing. Luckily, Jungkook was preparing for this. He recalls his first time smoking and how he was sure he was going to die.

Jungkook hands you a water bottle that sat on his bedside table. You down the water hastily, moaning in satisfaction as it heals your throat.

“Better?”

You nod, but your throat burns still. But you’re glad Jungkook allows you to smoke with him. You watch as Jungkook smokes, inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with ease - no coughing or choking like you had. You wonder just how long he’s been smoking for but you don’t ask.

“Want to try again?” Jungkook passes you the joint, raising his eyebrows. “This time try not to inhale so hard.”

You do as you’re told and you’re surprised to find that you do not end up coughing as hard as you had.

Jungkook and you take turns smoking until the joint is gone. You lay beside him on his bed, feeling euphoric and free. Your anxiety is long gone and you remain relaxed. This feeling was not the feeling you thought being high was like - and you were certain you’d want to feel this way again.

The bed shifts and you’re finally remembering where you’re at. You turn on your side to face Jungkook, who had already turned to face you.

Jungkook studies your face. Your eyes are slightly red and low. You look tired and ready to sleep at any moment but your eyes blink constantly to not do so. You were having fun - even if it was just relaxing and not doing anything in particular.

“I’ll have to give you a new nickname.” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve corrupted your good girl image ever since we became friends.”

You giggle. “I can still be your good girl.” you say without a thought. It goes past you, but not Jungkook.

“My good girl.” Jungkook hums. He likes how it sounds, but he’ll blame his intoxication for now. “Tell me…”

You feel a hand upon your cheek and your eyes open slightly wider.

“Is what Ji-ah said true?”

You’re unsure which part Jungkook is speaking of. You’re said a lot to Ji-ah and only could imagine what she’s told him.

“That you’ve never had a good sexual experience?”

You mentally curse at Ji-ah. You almost forgot that she had told him at Taehyung’s party.

You slowly nod your head. There wasn’t a point in denying it. It had to be obvious - hell you never touched a drink until recently. How would you know how to pleasure a man the correct way or had a great sexual experience?

Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He’s silent for a few moments, possibly pondering on his next statement.

“Has anyone ever touched you?”

You release a shaky breath. You want to pinch yourself to see if this was another dream, but you’re positive that you have not fallen asleep.

You shake your head.

Jungkook halts outlining your lips with his thumb.

“So you don’t know what cumming feels like.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Ashame.”

You and Jungkook are close - so close that you can hear him breathing.

“Have you ever made someone cum?”

Jungkook likes you like this. You aren’t shying away from him in embarrassment.

“Of course.”

You lick your lips. You’re unsure where the two of you were going with this. This isn’t a conversation you should be having with him, but it’s as though you’re paralyzed.

“How’d you do it?”

Jungkook leans closer. “I could show you.”

You gasp lightly. The room is completely silent and still. Jungkook and you are even closer, nose touching as you and he speak.

“Push me away.” Jungkook commands suddenly. “If you’re uncomfortable…push me away.”

Jungkook wasn’t sober, but he was coherent enough to know right from wrong. You were clearly under the influence more than him and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was taking advantage of you.

Your hand clenches Jungkook's shirt and you push your lips upon his. It causes Jungkook to flinch as if you burn him, but he doesn’t dwell on his shock. He deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He can taste a bit of alcohol on you, but he doesn’t mind.

The kiss becomes hotter - more dominant. Your tongue dances along his and you can say you feel content. This feeling was euphoric and unreal - a feeling you never wish to end.

“Let me make you cum.” Jungkook heaves when the kiss is broken. His tone is needy - he was begging you. He wanted to feel you, to taste you. He desired to watch you cum undone because of him - for your first time.

“O-Okay.” you agree.

Jungkook and you continue to kiss. His hands trail lower and lower until they reach the hem of your dress. Your dress is already dangerously short so it doesn’t take him long to reach his hand upward inside your dress and feel the cotton underwear you wore.

“My good girl’s already wet.” Jungkook breaks the kiss to moan into your ear. Your underwear was soaked through and he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch you the way he wanted yet.

Jungkook rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. He needed you to be comfortable first.

You moan, buckling your hips against his fingers. You bite your lip just as Jungkook trails kisses along your neck.

“I’m going to make you cum.” Jungkook nibbles into your neck, biting and sucking gently on the skin.

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dip into your underwear. He moans along with you when he touches your wet clit - how could you be this wet already? He shivers. The thought of you being this wet excites him. He ponders how it would feel if his cock rubbed against your bare pussy - how it’d feel if he fucked you into oblivion.

Jungkook’s fingers stroked your clit. He was becoming rougher with how he handled you. His free hand yanks your dress down so that a breast could fly it. He catches a nipple into his mouth, suckling on it like a madman. He had a desire to do so since you strolled into the club with such slutty attire.

You arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook showed your nipple no mercy, nor did he show any to your clit. He rubbed at a ferocious pace and sucked and nibbled on your breast. The scene before you felt dirty and taboo - but you didn’t want him to stop. You had never felt so great in your life.

“I’m going to fuck my good girl with my fingers.” Jungkook grunts, fingers already dipping inside of you. “You’re so wet that they fall easily inside.”

Jungkook’s dirty words mixed with his deep voice is music to your ears.

Jungkook pumps his fingers inside of you. Your pussy squelches as he does so, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind right now is getting you to cum all over him.

“How does my good girl feel?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper.

“I…I feel good.” you moan out. Your stomach feels tight and you feel as if you’re about to explode. “I feel something coming.”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re about to cum.” he says to you. “Let go. Cum all over me, good girl.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You’re breathing heavily and Jungkook shows no signs of stopping until you’re cumming.

You do, a gush of liquid squirting out and onto Jungkook’s wrist and bed. You’re jolting, cursing lowly under your breath all the while attempting to catch your breath.

Jungkook revels in the sight of you squirting all over him. You were truly a beautiful sight - so innocent and new to this life. He wants to make you cum over and over again - but there will always be a next time.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and brings them into his mouth. He licks them and sighs, wishing he could sink his cock into you right now.

“Let’s go to sleep.” you hear Jungkook say. “My good girl looks tired after cumming so hard.” he teases but you don’t have it in you to deny the slumber that consumes you.

#btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #step siblings au #bts step sibling #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bts writing #trivia-yandere #paid in full #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook fic #jungkook step brother

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blue-rose-soul · 2 months

Note

For Bastard child au. Assuming that Lucifer finds out before the finale how would he respond to knowing Alastor got hurt fighting Adam? How would Charlie?

I've been waiting for an excuse to talk about this! Well, not this exactly, just...

Okay, so the general consensus is that Lucifer couldn't step in sooner with the extermination because he had an agreement with Heaven, and that Adam broke that agreement by targeting Charlie, a hellborn. Alastor may be Lucifer's son, but he was born on Earth to a human mother. He has a human soul and came to Hell as a sinner. An extremely powerful sinner, but a sinner nonetheless.

In other words, he's not protected under the same agreement.

But! But but but, I figure Lucifer must have been keeping an eye on the battle from somewhere, so he could know when to step in. So he saw Adam and Alastor fight, saw Alastor nearly die, and saw him barely escape with his life. In the end, Niffty doesn't need to step in to finish Adam.

"You come at me, and my family!?"

Lucifer does it himself.

They know Alastor isn't dead thanks to Husk (and possibly Niffty) but are still concerned when they can't find him in the ruins of the old hotel. Lucifer does make an attempt to look for Alastor, but he doesn't know Alastor well enough to know where to look. But his daughter is still here and still needs him, so Lucifer puts the search aside and helps Charlie rebuild her hotel.

And in the end, Alastor returns. Alastor would shove Lucifer off when he joins in the group hug, but he doesn't want to aggravate the wound he's pretending not to have*.

I think that, whether or not she knew Alastor was her brother, Charlie would show the same amount of concern for him. Wanting to know what happened after Adam broke through his shield, why he disappeared from the battle. Just, wanting to know if he's okay. Alastor just brushes off her questions and keeps her at a distance. The biggest change is really between Lucifer and Alastor, and later between Lucifer and Charlie.

The guilt is crushing Lucifer. He knows how badly hurt Alastor was, and knows that instead of coming back to the people who would help him, he hid away somewhere to heal alone. Lucifer tries to be subtle about it, but he's constantly checking in on Alastor, asking if there's anything he needs, or anything Lucifer can do for him. He's not subtle at all.

And Alastor is not at all amused. He doesn't care that Lucifer was late to the battle! He didn't ask for or want Lucifer's help! It was his own fault for getting sloppy and letting Adam get a hit in (not to mention a disadvantageous deal but he's not saying that bit), and he doesn't need Lucifer coddling him. Unfortunately, with his cane broken and his body healing slowly, Alastor is uniquely vulnerable for the first time in a long time. But Lucifer's awkward hovering and Charlie's concern is only serving to make Alastor all the more agitated. So he sticks the needle where it hurts; Lucifer's guilt.

He accuses Lucifer of waiting until after Adam had mortally wounded Alastor specifically so his 'mistake' would be erased. Of wanting him deader than dead.

Then he coldly tells Lucifer that if he can't be bothered to show up when it matters, he shouldn't show up at all.

Later, he assures Charlie he doesn't hold any negative feelings towards her even though Lucifer came running to her rescue while he was willing to let Adam nearly eviscerate Alastor. After all, it stands to reason that Lucifer would choose his real child over a bastard. The King of Hell has made it perfectly clear he doesn't need a 'busboy.' Charlie tries to speak in Lucifer's defense, but, Alastor is pleased to note, her heart isn't in it.

Afterwards, he listens from the shadows and grins as he hears Charlie asking Lucifer why he saved her but not Alastor. Lucifer telling her the terms of the agreement he made with Heaven doesn't satisfy her. Alastor's her brother, they're both Lucifer's children! Lucifer should have stepped in, agreement be damned! The recently repaired cracks in their relationship begin to widen once again and Alastor is pleased.

(*I'm going to cackle if season 2 drops and it turns out we were all wrong and Alastor's completely fine.)

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Lucifer Morningstar #Charlie Morningstar #Alastor #and here on your right you'll see Alastor taking advantage of Charlie's desire for a sibling bond to drive a wedge between her and Lucifer #Season 2 episode 1 prediction: Alastor's got his cane back and he's not injured in any way shape or form!#but not in this AU in this AU he's bleeding every minute of every day lol #just imagine Alastor dealing with wave after wave of upstart sinners thinking they can become Overlords #if they just get in a lucky hit on the injured Radio Demon #not to mention whatever Vox and the Vees are planning #and all the while Alastor's choking on his own blood acting like he's fine #and glaring at Lucifer every time he tries to step in

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wanderingpages · 4 months

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‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Only God and @headcannonxgalore knows how many times I rewrote this one.

Jude's POV

I stand on my tiptoes, both feet perched on the back of my armchair, strategically positioned against the wall closest to the doorway. Holding my breath, I delicately place the wire right above the door frame. "Uh huh," I mumble in response to Fand's voice emanating from the speakerphone, feeling beads of sweat forming at the back of my neck. A sigh of relief escapes when the fairy lights finally find their place on the nail I had carefully tacked there earlier. Stepping down, I survey the room, content with the new decor I've added today. Admittedly, it was done as a way to create an excuse to stay in my room and avoid the rest of my family, but as I take in the rest of the scene, I can't help but feel pretty accomplished.

Suddenly, there’s a tap on my window. My brows furrow when I turn and spot Cardan standing on the roof, waiting patiently for me. He breathes against the glass before writing “Hi” and drawing a little smiley face in the fog. I let out a snort, despite myself, forgetting about my cell still running a call on my dresser.

“Jude?” Fand questions.

“Um, Fand, I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” I hardly hear her answer as I end the call, tossing the phone on the bed. I walk over to the window and pull it up. I rest my elbows on the sill, watching amused as Cardan squats down to be leveled with me.

He tugs the end of my braid, grinning, “Can I come in?”

I pretend to think, “What’s in it for me?”

“Anything you want, princess.” His eyes glimmer in the moonlight. He leans in closer and I can smell cinnamon gum on his breath. “Please,” he pleads, “It’s cold out here, Jude.” My mouth tingles at the barely there brush of his against mine. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips and I take a tentative step back for him to maneuver in. The chilled air also seems to follow him in, making goosebumps prick at my skin. I resist the urge to cover myself and take a few steps back until the back of my knees hit my bed. I take a seat, finding the koala I had thrown from my chair and bring it onto my lap, digging my fingers into its fur.

He sits on the ledge, obscuring most of the cool air from directly hitting me. He nods his head to my phone, curiously, “Who was that?”

I shrug, following his line of sight in time to see a message come through from Fand. I swipe it away, glancing at the time reading well after midnight. “A friend.”

“Oh, I’ve heard that song before,” Cardan teases. He brings his tongue to the back of his teeth, and to my annoyance, begins a series of ‘la-la-la’s’ in tune with the chorus of Biz Markie’s “Just a Friend.”

“She is,” I insist. Contrary to what my stepmother may think of me being this lonesome child, I did have a few friends in high school and Fand was by far the closest. We kept in touch throughout our first semester, and met up a handful of times since I’ve been back. But, despite that, despite the hour long conversation I just ended with her, I’ve been feeling like a stranger.

I give my stepbrother an inquiring look, wondering why he’s so far away and why we’re both acting so coy. I run the nail of my forefinger over my thumb, jolting when I snag a scabbed over bruise. Absently, I bring the scored finger to my mouth as I take him in. He looks flushed, undoing the scarf around his neck before running his fingers through his dark, windblown tresses. A silver pendant glints against his black shirt – a small double cross pendant on a roll chain. I rub my hand over my cheek and raise my brow in question. He grins when he catches my eyes and asks, “How was your run this morning?”

“My run?” I repeat, miffed. I’m partially dazed, entranced by how stark he looks against the backdrop of my very bright room; donned with a dark pair of jeans, laced up boots and what looks like a dark sherpa lined coat only enhanced by the crème colored walls and fairy lights strewn up – along with fake greenery and miscellaneous photos hooked in between – at the far corner of my room.

He turns, taking in the new decor and taps a photo closest to him, musing lightly, “When did you put this up?”

“A few hours ago,” I admit. “Have you always been partial to the color black?”

“I’m more of a gold guy,” he says, scrunching his nose in a way I can’t help but find almost cute. His nose ring shines when he tilts his head just right, and for the first time since I’ve known Cardan Greenbriar, I feel quite shabby in comparison. My pajama pants are fuzzy and juvenile with its cow printed pattern, and the large gray shirt I have on does nothing to help accentuate my body. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye,” he brings back the conversation, almost pouting at me.

“Kiss you goodbye,” I repeat dryly. I grip the koala a little tighter. “Sorry?” I offer, a moment later and he shrugs absently. “Where’d you go? Today, I mean. You were gone when I came back,” I point out, aware of how suddenly I'm the one with the accusatory tone.

He looks at me carefully when he answers, “A friend asked for some help. She’s moving furniture around.”

“She?” It comes out before I can stop myself. Him asking about Fand felt so light compared to the dread I feel asking about his friend.

He rests his head back against the window and watches me, slightly amused. “Mmhmm,” he hums and assures me, “no one to be worried about though, little sister.” His lips tilt up and I throw the teddy at him. He catches it in one hand, then brings it close to him for a cuddle. I'm all too aware of how empty and exposed I feel without it as armor.

“That’s not what I was getting at,” I mumble. My stomach churns, feeling a rush of complicated emotions twisting deep within me. Jealousy, I can admit to myself, and a pitiful type of envy as I watch the beady eyes of my stuffed animal he holds so tenderly. I play with the tips of my hair, fiddling with the elastic that holds the tight braid together. It’s a little too tight, and maybe that’s why my skull is pounding right now. “Why did you come through the window, by the way? I’m sure our parents don’t care about a curfew for you.” If I sound bitter about that, he decidedly ignores it.

"Have you considered that maybe, I just like the thrill of things," he says playfully, his eyes holding something daring and challenging within them. A wicked grin curls onto his lips and I let out a huff of air, trying not to think back on all his thrilling ideas before. A tingle crawls up my spine, unpleasantly. This time I don’t ignore the shiver and I cross my arms over my chest.

I roll my eyes, “Okay, you adrenaline junkie, can you close the window now? Pneumonia isn’t very thrilling, so to speak.”

He instead places the koala on the bookshelf and moves to come closer to me, though he pauses when I give his boots a pointed look. He retracts, settling back against the window, instead of undoing his laces like I thought he would. “Come here, first,” he barters. I blink in hesitation, and while I try to remain seated, my feet lead me to him anyway. I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself, wondering if I’d bark, too, if he told me to get on all fours for him.

I toe at his boot when we’re close together, staring down at the chipped polish on my nails against his scuffed leather. I’m avoiding his gaze because it’s so damn bright in my room that I know if I meet his eyes, I’ll find that his dark irises are not black as midnight, but a deep brown with tiny, lighter flecks of amber around the edges. I’ll get lost in them like I shouldn’t, fall just a little deeper, maybe, forget that this is a game and fold. He tilts my chin up and my heart’s nearly steady rhythm skyrockets as soon as my gaze falls on his lips. “Hi,�� I say, quietly.

“Jude,” Cardan says just as breathlessly, and it catches me off guard at first. My name sounds like sin…like desire, when he says it, and as I place my fingers over his chest, I wonder if the devil has ever called out a saint’s name so enticingly. ‘Eve,’ the snake whispered, ‘bite the apple’ must be tantamount to ‘Jude, ride my fingers.’ His lips twitch, a lone finger tracing pink in my cheek, and he asks, “What are you thinking?”

I don't answer. I reach for the cross dangling from his neck, testing the weight on the tip of my finger. It’s heavier than most pendants its size, and when I flip it over, I’m not surprised to see the letters ‘c’ and ‘h’ embossed on it. I want to twist the chain around my fingers until it purples my skin, until it embeds in his flesh, until he struggles for breath – maybe then he’ll feel an ounce of what I feel when I'm this close to him. I trace up the chain, following it to where his skin is flushed from the weather. I find a bruising mark along the juncture of his neck. I bite my tongue, embarrassed to know that I was the one who left it there. I finger it lightly and he shudders, to my surprise. His lashes flutter and his lips part.

Astounded, I trace the mark again and watch, enthralled as he sucks in a breath. His heated hand grasps my iced one, removing it from his skin. He squeezes it lightly, thawing my fingers before letting them go. My hands then move to his hips, creeping towards his back, sneaking into the warmth of his jacket. Cardan’s hand against my face splays, fingers reaching to my neck, his other hand goes to my hair, curling it like a rope around his wrist and bending my head back. He leans closer, cinnamon wafting over my cheeks. I want to kiss him, I realize. Not in the throws of passion or under the guise of secrecy, I just want to kiss him soft and sweet; press our lips together for just a second. Perhaps, I had done myself a disservice, not kissing him goodbye this morning. Lost a chance of daylight reaching our sins.

His eyes search mine, he’s annoyed, I think drably, but he holds me in place with no malice touching his features. His thumb traces the darkness under my eye, indication of my lack of sleep. “Is it me?” His question confuses me for a moment, and I grip his shirt just a bit tighter. “Something else? Daddy?” I frown at that when I follow his thought process. Dad, guilt, Asha… I try to turn my face but he doesn’t let me cower. His eyes search mine, then he offers, “Do you want to get out of here?”

I hesitate to answer, only because I’m not quite sure of how grand of a scope his question entails. Get out of my room, or get out of this life? “It’s past my curfew,” I finally murmur stupidly, my breath hitching when our lips meet briefly.

His lips stretch against mine. “Go find a jacket,” He turns me to face my closet and I stumble towards it, colder the further I move away from him.

“Should I change?” I ask, looking down at my sleepwear.

“What’s the point, if I'm going to get you out of them, anyways?” I scowl and turn my head to him. His smile is boyish as he surrenders, “Joking – I would dare not corrupt my darling little sister, of course.”

“You’re sick,” I tell him, now deciding on remaining in my frumpy attire out of spite. He laughs out a stupid childish phrase, implying I was the sick one, not him. I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him and head to my closet, finding the only coat not currently hanging downstairs in the foyer. I grab a pair of thick socks from a drawer and then proceed to slip on sneakers that have seen better days. They’re no pristine, white high tops like Vivienne's but they do the trick all the same. “How do I look?”

I give him a turn, not really expecting a response as I walk up to him – I’m sure I resemble a clown school drop out – but I let out a startled noise when he pulls the scarf from his neck and wraps it around my own. “It’s cold,” he explains. It’s a soft cashmere and smells just like him. He climbs out the window first, not giving me a chance to respond, then holds out a hand to help me out. I keep my mouth closed, nuzzling deeper into his scarf as he explains how to get down. I’m only half hearing his words as the thrill of sneaking out starts to surface by the tremble of my body. He navigates his way down first, making sure I'm closely following behind. I feel a little giddy, and perhaps it shows on my face when Cardan glances at me. His soft smile seems responsive to my mood. He throws an arm over my shoulder and quietly leads us past his car and towards the sidewalk, then a little ways down.

He finally pauses far enough away, under the shelter of trees at the dead end of the cul-de-sac where not even the neighboring houses’ security lights can touch us. We’re in front of a pick-up truck, old and rusted and not at all something I’d ever picture Cardan driving; seemingly out of place even in my neighborhood. My eyebrows shoot up when he opens the door and gestures me in. “This is humbling,” I finally manage, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He holds a hand out to me and I take it, letting him help me into the cab. It’s a little shabby, but I feel more comfortable than I did in his car. Maybe it’s because the truck holds no awkward memories I constantly have to face in it.

He jogs over to the other side, quickly turning dials to blast the heat. He keeps the windows down only a crack to diminish any fog on the glass, then pulls on to the road. My fingers wiggle in front of the vents, warming them up, humming to the low music his radio plays. His lips tilt in a small smile, “I told you, I was helping a friend.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “So you rented this?

“Baby, I own this,” he says almost proudly. “None of Daddy’s money and all.” He shrugs and turns the music up, “Have you ever seen Insmire during the holidays? We missed the Halloween decorations, but Christmas is something else.”

“No,” I shake my head and lean back, tucking my chin to snuggle into his scarf. I wonder idly when the warm musky scent of him has turned into something comforting for me. “I never really had a reason to go to Insmire.”

He glances at me then nods to the canvas bag by my feet, “You cold? There’s a blanket in there.” I reach down and pull out a thick beige knitted throw with gold sequins scattered here and there. Before I can mention anything Cardan says, “Nicasia didn’t want it, said you’d probably like it.”

I tuck it back into the bag, “Nicasia?” it takes me a minute to realize that she’s the friend he’d been helping. Something sours knots in my stomach and I try to ignore it. Had he driven that far to see her, or did she also live much closer than I knew? “From the party? She… knows about us?” It’s stupid to ask, I know before he answers. I think about Ghost and what he asked me that night, if I wanted them to watch – wanted my stepbrother to watch. He knew, so of course she knew, too.

“Jude,” Cardan laughs, “She got her rocks off watching me watch you; I’m sure she might have an inkling of how constantly I think about fucking my stepsister.”

“Oh,” I mumble, wryly, “Is that how her rocks got off?”

“I might have helped some,” He laughs, turning the radio up. “I think she likes you,” he offers and I squirm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you.”

“Little liar. I think you like me a lot. And it’s more than just the dirty shit I do to you; you like me as a person and all that.” In another world, I’d agree and we’d call this our third date.

I grind my molars, staring out the window, watching the lights pass us by. “I don't even think I know you as a person, really. Like, what do you even major in?”

“Psychology,” he says, not missing a beat.

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “Why that?”

“Wish I had a better therapist when I was 7,” he drops on me. “What better way to fix the system than from within?”

I look at him with high brows, “Really? I mean- I… I’m so sorry, Cardan -”

“I am pretty exceptional at coloring within the lines, though,” he smiles almost indifferently. “I think that's really all I did in her office - color worksheets she’d give me.” I part my lips, but he changes the subject, “You ever been ice skating?”

“No…” I say, slowly, accepting the new information and trying not to pry where he doesn't want me to. “I’m not really into sports - I never even learned how to ride a bike.”

“You run,” he points out, to which I shrug as this was something new to me too. “Wait, you don't know how to ride a bike?” I let out a startled laugh because yeah, that does seem incredulous.

“He may not seem like it, but Dad worries a lot. He’s never let me experience scraped knees. I don’t even have my ears pierced.” I give him a grin but he doesn't reciprocate. His eyes are trained in front of him, glancing up at street signs so my eyebrows furrow when Cardan reaches blindly, fingers touching my ear, thumbing where a first piercing would be. “Oh,” I say, “I guess it’s weird that I took your earrings then - do you want them back?”

He rolls his eyes, making a turn as his fingers glide down to my shoulder, then lower to my hand, encasing it in his. “Don’t be stupid, Jude.”

We talk casually, asking and answering more asinine questions – whatever we must have missed on our road-trip home. I give his fingers a squeeze when I get more comfortable, giggling a bit as Cardan sings off-key to the Christmas song playing on the radio. I turn my head to the window, watching as gradually, bare houses with some fairy lights slowly transcend into houses adorned with strings of multicolored lights blinking in harmony. Every single tree we pass by has an array of lights shining brightly. Inflatable Santas and reindeers sway in the winter breeze. It’s almost whimsical. I lean closer to the window, aware of Cardan slowing down for me to see. Sure, Insmoor had their fair share of décor, but Insmire felt like being inside a snow globe.

“This doesn't feel real,” I whisper in wonder. I roll down the window halfway, sticking my head out the car to get a better look. Cardan’s hand holds mine a bit tighter, as if he’s scared I'd fall out. The decorations become more intricate, with some houses featuring life-sized nutcrackers and snowmen. Strings of lights with snowflakes and baubles at the end hang from bare trees, looking like giant ornaments floating in the air. Even the towering Christmas trees are visible through the windows. One house even has a Grinch placed by their chimney. They all look like different scenes from different Christmas movies.“Cardan - look!” The air carries the familiar scent of winter pine, and for a moment, the festive atmosphere transports me back in time.

The memories flood, foggy, but still there, and suddenly, the smile on my face feels like it’s worth too much effort. I recall silver thistle wrapped around a small tree, baubles with our names on it. Jude, Eva, Madoc. “It’s so pretty, Mommy!” I said as dad lifted me on his shoulders, letting me place an angel on the top of the tree, followed by a distant response of,“Just like you my baby.” A scene so warm makes me feel so cold now. When did I stop believing in Santa? It had to have been after Mom left - but had Dad ever attempted to keep up pretenses after that year? I can't remember a happy holiday with just my father and I. Even with Asha's added presence, we never went for usual Christmas traditions, though it was probably the only time I ever received a wrapped gift or Christmas cookies - albeit store bought, it still embraced the holiday that in a way, my dad had halted.

“Jude?” Cardan's voice breaks through my reverie, calling my name with concern. I don't answer immediately; the emotions threaten to overwhelm me. I wipe my eyes, taking a moment to center myself. My hand feels cold in his.

“Even your house is decorated,” I point out, trying to mask the sudden croak in my voice. The truck rolls to a stop in front of someone’s lawn. His front lawn might be the most tame, though still painting a picture of a snow-family opening presents by a large Christmas tree.

I see Cardan run a hand through his hair from my window’s reflection. The cheery glow seems to turn into an uncomfortable spotlight. He looks torn on whether to answer me or offer me comfort. “Yeah, we…pay people to do that for us.” He’s concerned when he asks, “Jude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I wipe at my nose and turn to give him a smile. It wavers and feels forced, not fooling either of us. “I just remembered… I just… I haven’t had homemade hot chocolate until your mom showed up.” I feel like I’m somehow betraying him by telling him this. “I didn’t even know what Elf on a Shelf was until she started living with us.”

His eyes flash; he looks almost… defeated. “Yeah?” he tugs my hand, and I let him pull me closer, let him turn me and guide me on to his lap. He shifts us down to the center, making sure the steering wheel wouldn’t dig into me. I place my palms on his chest as he undoes the scarf, letting it hang around my neck, then works on my zipper, smoothly sliding it down and unhooking it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I lower my head to his. Sorry I fell for Asha - wish I fell for you, first.

He seems to hesitate, his gaze lingering not exactly on me, but at me. "She’s not my favorite person, but if she’s yours, then..." he shrugs, and pulls me closer, his hands coming to my hips, sliding beneath my shirt to the small of my back. “It's a little funny,” he smirks with no mirth, “She never even knew how to make hot chocolate when I used to visit. She burned chocolate in the microwave once. Unrelated, but I never went back after that year.”

I frown, tracing the curve of his lips with my thumbs. “What did she do?” I ask, before I can stop myself. My eyes grow wide, “Don’t answer that, sorry -”

He cuts me off, giving me a dry smile, “It’s all water under the bridge, don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

“Cardan…”

As if it explains anything, he says, “My mother is a devout catholic now, repenting and all that,” his droll is sardonic. “Maybe she’d be proud of how biblically I want you.” his fingers creep higher, thumbs maneuvering over my breasts making me suck in breath when he caresses my peaked nipples. I bite down on my lip; I think I know him well enough to know he’s deflecting, but I don't mind. His hands are so, so, so warm. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I could handle it. Don't worry, little sister.” He trails off quietly, a far off look on his face. His thumbs are absently rubbing over me in small circles. My knees twitch and I feel the shake in my thighs as I grind down on his lap, reaching for some type of friction. He sucks in a breath, fingers digging into my skin. His lips twitch, eyes gleaming when he meets mine, “Anyways, you can tell Daddy that I think you ride just fine, baby sister.”

I grit my teeth, sliding my hands to cup the back of his neck. I grip at the hair at his nape, moving my hips a little harder. “Fuck you,” I manage, and he just smiles, so awfully, holding on to me as I continue to take what I can from him, like a damned hypocrite. My nails dig into his scalp and my head falls back. I feel warm and flushed and lightheaded. His nail scrapes against my nerves, and I bite down hard on my bottom lip. Heat pools between my legs the more he circles my nipples. They get so sensitive so fast that it starts to feel like torment. “Ah,” I whisper, my nails on the brink of breaking his skin.

There’s a rush in my ears and it takes me some time to realize Cardan is speaking to me, whispering to me, praising me, taking nonsense,“...good… you look so fucking good…so pretty…riding this dick…” I let out a moan when he shifts his hips and we align perfectly. “I wonder,” he breathes, “how often you hump your pillows… like this… ride your stuffed toys… wishing it was me….” I’m too gone to be embarrassed. I want to undo his pants but I don't want to let go of him, I don't want him to let go of me, either. He reaches down, biting me over my shirt and I let out a cry when he tugs at the peaked tips of my breasts, one after the other.

Cardan’s fingers are bruising into my skin and when I glance down, he’s already looking up at me. The lights flicker against his necklace, taunting me, and for a moment, I imagine it dangling off his bare neck, teasing my skin as he hovers over me. I lean down until my lips are by his ear and bite down on his earlobe. He pinches me under my shirt, in retaliation, before rubbing his fingers over the soreness. I suck in a breath, feeling hot and heady, rubbing harder on him until the ache in my clit is satiated.

“Which one was it,” he whispers. “The snake?”

“No,” I manage.

“Koala? Cat…?” His grunts are labored, I shake my head against him, and I lift my hips just a bit to bounce on him. “A pillow?”

I whimper and his hands slide down to my hips, kneading at my flesh guiding me roughly. My eyes screw tight, as heat erupts inside of me. I pull his chain from the back, letting the cross dagger into his skin, press into the hollow of his neck, while I ride the last of the euphoric wave. My lips move against his skin, “no… I have a different toy. One that vibrates. I’ll let you watch one day.”

His eyes are lidded, when I pull away to look at him. His breaths come out shallow as I slow to a stop. He brings a hand to my hair, winding my braid until my neck pulls back. He bites down right under my chin, pulling away with a harsh suck of skin. “I’ll hold you to it.”

He slowly unravels my hair and my fingers shake as I hold on to him, trying to catch my breath. “Do you…” I can't find my words, falling forward to place my head against his. My hands slowly lets go of him, falling from his neck and down to his chest. I go lower, reaching the button on his jeans, “You didn’t…”

He closes his eyes, taking in a breath, “Just stay still for a moment.” He gives me a dry laugh, “It’s not so easy to clean up come in my current position, as it is for you to hide how wet your panties are.” I roll my eyes, but heed his request. Finally, he opens his eyes and searches mine. “You look tired.”

I snort, “no kidding.”

He grins, “I should get you back home now. You’re due for a run in a few hours then I'm sure you’ll follow Asha to mass later, right?” I grimace at that but nod anyway, feeling a little more than anxious about Sunday service.

“I feel another sleepless night coming,” I admit. He slowly moves his other hand from under my shirt to hold my face, and I tell him, “It’s not you, by the way.” He gives me a questioning look and I smile as much as I can for him. “The longest I’ve slept since we’ve been back was last night, in your arms.” I lean in to give him the kiss we’d missed out on before. He grabs my chin, not letting me fully pull away, and presses his lips to mine again, turning the soft peck into something more, parting my lips with his own, coating my tongue with cinnamon.

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