Title: playing around (WIP)
Author: sprx77/Tim Wren
Fandom: Worm (Parahumans Series by Wildbow)
Relationship: Alec | Regent | Jean-Paul Vasil/Cherie Vasil/Nicholas Vasil/Guillaume Vasil/Sebastian Vasil (OC)/Marie-Angelique Vasil (OC)
Warnings: Heartbroken, Underage, Rape/noncon references, minor sexual violence, and sibling incest (the entire fic is siblings kissing). Underage- It’s Jean-Paul and not Alec, though if you like, you could imagine he never left and is a fair bit older.
Word Count: 9,469 and counting
Summary: Seven of the Heartbroken play a little game.
–
It started off as a joke. A play on words, some variant of “hit or miss.” Nick doesn’t quite remember, but there was a dumb joke, some shit like ‘ha, more like hit or kiss.’ and then, if he had to bet, it went something like, ‘you like the hitting part more than the kissing, asshole.’
Long story short, it’s a thing they do now. Not all the damn time, not even super often, but occasionally they get bored as hell and it ends up there.
A taunt leads into a dare leads into ‘fuck it, we don’t have anything else to do.’
It’s not usually so damn fucking many of them, though.
“Alright, Hit or Kiss.” Nick explains gruffly, leg twitching. Impatient. Explaining shit? Not his forte.
“You’ve got this.” Guillaume says dryly, and Nick sends a burst of terror over him, whisper-quick– the equivalent of elbowing him in the gut but from halfway across the room. He has the superior power because it lets him do shit like that.
“Fuck off.” Nick punctuates the burst of fear with a glare. “Anyway, yeah. Stupid game, stupid rules. We spin the damn bottle, whoever it lands on– gets to come over to you. Spinner closes his eyes and gets either a hit or a kiss.”
“Wait, you kiss each other?” Cherie leers. “I knew you two were like that. A little too much lust pouring out of ‘your’ room to just be jerking off– and it explains why you always insist on sharing, too.”
Nick sent a sustained burst of fear her way, but Cherie– being Cherie– tanked it, shuddering with an almost sexual air as her eyes shut tight, a light sweat broke out, and her thighs shook.
“If you come from that I’m kicking you out.” Nick said, disgusted.
“Fuck– you.” Cherie was out of breath and panting when she came down from it, jaw tense. “Do it again.”
“No.”
“Pussy.”
Guillaume snorted– more a little breath than anything, but Nicholas knew exactly what the sound meant.
“Can we uninvite her?” Jean-Paul drawled, perched on the writing desk. Daddy had dropped them off for a few days, off doing fuck-knows, and they were making the most of it.
Mostly they were bored as shit, though. Hence stupid ass games.
“Shut up, brat!” Cherie drew herself up to her full sitting height. “If anyone’s uninvited, it’s you. Why did we even bring him, he’s like, five.”
Jean-Paul grumbled a little and glared, staring with dad’s uncanny silver-blue eyes. Little fucking shithead.
“He’s not so bad for this.” Guillaume lifted a slim, twinkish fucking shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be greatful for him later.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?”
“Chill.” Valentina leaned forward, a loose black hoodie slipping over her collar as she palmed the wine bottle they’d chosen for the game.
“Or what?” Cherie wrinkled her nose hard. “You gonna make me?”
“You gonna agree?” Val wiggled her fingers threateningly, power-derived tattoos covering the visible skin on the back of her hand, disappearing into the sleeve.
A few reached out of the wide neckline and half-zipped fabric to play around her neck and the straps of her undershirt thing.
“Ha. Not likely.” Cherie’s fist clenched.
“Can I leave?” Sebastian asked dryly. “I’m not even sure why I’m here.”
“Oh, wow, it speaks!” Nick made a show of disbelief, smartass hands and all. “Didn’t know you had the spine to do that, normie.”
“I literally changed your diapers but sure, try to intimidate me.” Sebastian usually wasn’t so mouthy; he’d just found a lion’s courage or something since they’d been cooped up for the last day and a half. He was also tired as shit, barely awake.
Nick cackled.
“So brave when you haven’t slept, hmm?” Cherie cooed. “I wonder what could be keeping you awake like that.”
“Wait, that’s you? Jesus, we’re rooming together, stop that.” Jean-Paul complained. “What are you doing, spiking his emotions right when he’s about to fall asleep?”
“Something like that.” Cherie smirked.
Sebastian’s eye bags had eye bags. Tough shit.
“No, you can’t leave. Daddy said,” Nick’s lips twisted into a sneer, “that we’ve gotta stay in the house.”
“But not the same room.” Sebastian pointed out.
“Aw, come on.” Cherie goaded in her most condescending voice. “If you play with us, I’ll let you get some sleep tonight. Mayb–”
But she doesn’t get the full, taunting word out, having paused for dramatic effect, before Valentina’s eyes glow briefly gold.
“Deal.” She says, before Cherie can finish doing the ‘dangling offer only to take it away’ shit she loves so much. Nine times out of ten Val gets her like that, yet she never learns.
“Fuck!” Cherie lunges for her sister and Jean-Paul flicks a non-challant hand, tripping her at just the right moment. Nick whistles.
Beautiful.
The kid winks at him and Nick vows to get him good when they have a turn together. Fucking brat.
Cherie is seething as she returns to her spot, a bright and stylized moon tattooed on her bicep.
She won’t leave no matter how pissed she gets, too desperate for any action. Embarrassing.
“Alright, fucknuts.” Nick claps his hands together. “Let’s get this shitshow on the road.”
“Eloquent.” Marie-Angelique quips, white curls spilling down to her chin– and no further, she’s cut it short this month.
“You shut the fuck up, too.” Nick glowers at her.
She smiles at him. Marie-Angelique has never once been afraid of him. Bitch.
“All the midgets in a circle.” He decides, shoving Cherie off the couch and taking her seat. She makes a big show out of it before finally sitting down on the carpet, about as far from Valentina as she can get.
Guillaume deigned to sit next to him, not bothering for a healthy distance, their sides brushing.
Sebastian grudgingly shuffled more into the room, taking a seat on the chair-thing near Marie-Angelique. Jean-Paul slid off his table with that weird grace, slinking over to sit between Cherie and Val.
“Look, all the girls on the floor.” Guillaume smirked, causing the younger boy to flip him off without looking.
Sebastian shifted uncomfortably.
“This is… weird.” He finally said, rubbing at his eye.
Jean-Paul shrugged, unbothered.
“It’s not the worst thing we do.”
Even Nick had to snort at that.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s practically sunshine and daisies compared to the fun stuff, but we’re fuckin’ stuck here and if we do anything and get caught, we’re dead. So spin the bottle already, princess.”
“Who, me?” Angelique reached over and plucked up the wine bottle. It was empty, some ancient special vintage that had tasted just as much ass as any other wine.
“I was talking to the baby, but sure.”
“Rude.” Jean-Paul twirled a finger around boredly. “I’m barely the youngest, let’s get one of the others next time.”
“There are brats older than you, sure.” Nick threw a throw pillow at him. Who the fuck keeps a throw pillow on a couch? Either way, made to be tossed at irritating twerps, it’s even in the name. Throw.
Mission accomplished, Jean-Paul oofed and ate cotton.
“Do you want to be the one running from the cops when Xavier gets his ass beat by someone he shouldn’t be fighting? Kid won’t sit still and listen.” Nick bitched. “And Emile gets distracted stealing shit even when he should be focused on whatever objective daddy gives us.”
“Nathan?” Cherie tried, tracing invisible patterns in the rug.
“He starts fights with us.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Maybe once he triggers, but until then– nah. He has a chip on his shoulder.”
Guillaume muttered something sounding suspiciously like you’d know and Nick was close enough this time to elbow him physically.
The asshole retaliated by sweeping Nick into a headlock that almost destabilized the entire sitting arrangement, but his heart wasn’t in it– Nick escaped with only minimal rib jabbing and a bite to the elbow.
“You. Angel. Spin.”
“Yes, sir, oh ‘left in charge by daddy,’ sir.”
“Never say that again.”
Marie-Angelique rolled her eyes but gamely set the bottle down and gave it a spin.
The lip rotated evenly around the circle, passing Nick by a few times before landing on Cherie. For a minute it almost looked like it would land on Guillaume, which, ha– that would be gold.
Then it clicked over to Cherie and Nick really did start laughing.
Marie-Angelique gave him the finger, a gesture that looked stupid and out of place with the stupid delicate hyper-femme vibe she went for on purpose.
Cherie shot him a glare and Nick matched it, though it was ruined because he couldn’t stop grinning like an asshole.
White lashes falling shut like snow, Marie-Angelique leaned forward a little with all that shimmery pink shit on her eyelids.
“You could just steal their eyesight, make sure nobody cheats.” Jean-Paul suggested casually to the queer on Nick’s right.
“Nobody wants to see Cherie leaning in towards them, I think we’re good.” Guillaume answered.
They all watched as the first turn happened. Cherie got closer and closer, seemingly savoring the attention, until her lips were an inch from Marie-Angelique’s.
Then she reared back and slapped the shit out of her, the blonde’s head snapping to the side as the sound rang out.
“Right, because that’s a surprise.” Nick snorted.
Marie-Angelique gasped but didn’t scream, and her eyes immediately welled with reflexive tears.
Cherie looked so self-satisfied, but Nick’s comment had her scowling.
“I’m not predictable.” She sniffed, predictably.
Jean-Paul huffed, that little not-laugh he liked so much. It was even quieter than Guillaume’s ominous-ass faint chuckling.
Just laugh if you were going to laugh, damn.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Nick slouched back onto the couch. “Your turn to spin, Cherie.”
A hint of nerves behind her eyes, before she squared her shoulders and painted on a haughty, unaffected grace.
“Let’s see if you can’t keep it interesting, at least. I do so hate to be bored.” She flicked her wrist, sending the wine bottle spinning.
It barely made it two rotations before landing between Cherie herself and Valentina.
She frowned at it.
“What do I do if it lands on me? I can’t kiss myself.”
“You could slap yourself, though.” Jean-Paul volunteered cheerfully. “I think we’d all like to see that.”
Cherie glared at him briefly.
“Just because you can kiss yourself, you little Narcissus–”
“I told him that should be his cape name.” Guillaume said. “Fits the theme and all.”
“Narcissus wasn’t a god.” Sebastian said, surprised.
“True, but Hijack? Kid broke the mold.” The two-toned fucker clicked his tongue with mock disapproval.
“It’s because I’m not as ugly as you three.” Jean-Paul picked invisible lint off his shirt. “We’re completely different, you and me.”
Cherie bristled at the insult but Guillaume laughed softly. It sent a little wave over Nick, raising the hairs on his neck. Guillaume only laughed when he was feeling a little dangerous.
“Ugly? That’s not how you felt last week when you begged me to kiss you.”
“What?” Nick demanded, leaning forward in delight. “The baby wanted to make out with you?”
“Well, he asked. Begged, really, for him.”
Jean-Paul had gone completely still, his expression blank and fucking creepy.
“Aww, baby wants some kisses? This must be his very favorite game, then.” Cherie cooed.
“Shut up.” Jean-Paul’s voice was a little tight, though his face remained unaffected. “Isn’t it your turn anyway? What, are you scared to kiss Val? I could help you out.”
“Ha, like I need to be mastered.” Cherie sneered. “And we were debating if it even counts. It landed on me, I should respin.”
Nick nudged the bottle with his foot until it was firmly pointing at Valentina.
“Suck it up, bitch. [Hit or Kiss already- use this later].”
She pulled a face but obediently closed her eyes.
Valentina made a show of it, crawling forward on her hands and knees. Her hair, red with a few black streaks in it lately, fell over one shoulder in what she probably thought was something seductive.
“There’s more dicks than chicks here but you wouldn’t know it from the fucking lesbianism.” Nick muttered and Guillaume briefly looked at him, amused but not bothering to smile.
“Doubt we’re going to get any ‘lesbianism’, honestly. They’d rather go for the violence.”
“Cherie has a very slappable face, it’s true.” Nick stifled a laugh as Valentina glared at them.
She’d been about to slap her sister. Instead, she visibly changed course, a hand on Cherie’s shoulder as she dipped in and kissed her all sensual.
Nick grimaced, nose wrinkling.
Cherie’s eyes popped open in surprise and her lips dropped open, which helped Valentina kiss her. None of that pussy peck-on-the-lips shit, actually taking her mouth and claiming it.
“By god, there’s lesbian porn after all.” He said, “Alright, wrap it up. If we put five minutes of kissing on the menu, Jean-Paul will cream his pants during his turn.”
“Asshole!” Jean-Paul snapped, with a hot little look.
Aw, baby’s mad.
“He’s pissy because he wants to be kissed.” Guillaume smirked a little. “I told you ‘no’ but now you might get one after all. Would be funny if we all slapped you, though.”
“He’s not gonna play with us next time if all we do is hit him.” Marie-Angelique pointed out. “The baby needs some kisses.”
Jean-Paul made an irritated baby owl noise.
“I don’t know, that hasn’t stopped Cherie.” Valentina pulled back, leaving Cherie faintly pink and swallowing hard. She was pretending to be unaffected, poorly. “I think this might be the only time you’ve ever been kissed in this game, mm?”
Val stroked her thumb over Cherie’s lower lip, wet with spit. Her mouth parted more like she couldn’t help it, eyes all glazed and shivery.
Great, now they had to deal with horny Cherie.
Valenta spun the bottle with her free hand, still capturing Cherie’s eyes and molesting her mouth.
“I thought Cherie hated Valentina?” Sebastian asked, quietly.
“Oh, she does.” Jean-Paul answered, leaning over a little. “It’s just that she’s an embarrassment.”
“Like you’re any better when someone kisses you.” Guillaume said, apparently milking it for all it was worth. “I mean, I didn’t, but when I leaned in you started trembling. So cute.”
Jean-Paul’s face went a little ruddy with pink, but he bit his tongue and only glared.
“Hey.” Guillaume murmured, knuckles brushing Nick’s leg. He looked up at the nudge, following the pointed finger to the bottle on the floor.
Pointed at him, huh.
“Shit, here we go then.” Nick stood up, took a few steps and folded himself onto the floor in front of the redhead.
Valentina smirked at him, always willing to match his energy. They got on a bit like a house on fire, egging each other on when they probably shouldn’t.
It was why they only got sent on missions together half the time despite their epic power synergy.
Nick echoed her expression, tugging her closer by the front of her tanktop all easy-like.
“You want something from me, sweetheart?” He knew what he looked like, they were all hot. Perks of daddy picking only really hot bitches, though his appetites often got them all in trouble– like sitting bored in this house waiting to play calvary for the inevitable cape chase.
Not that daddy particularly needed the backup.
“I can take whatever you got.” Valentina leaned into it, lips curving. She pressed her tits into his grip and he looked down automatically.
“Perve.” Valentina purred, hand landing on his thigh.
“Close your eyes, already.” Nick looked back up to see them fall shut, a darker blue than most of them.
He got close enough to almost kiss, then pressed lips to her chin. Her breath sped up the slightest bit, as he kissed down her jaw, along the curve of it, stopping to let his breath fan out over her ear.
“Weird way to hit, but okay.” Val quipped, fingers gripping into his jeans.
“Pfft. Let me hit and we’ll see how weird it is.” Nick’s words got a surprised laugh out of Sebastian, of all people, while the twerp snorted again.
“Puns? Really, Nichol–aahhs.” Val’s voice trailed off into a breathy moan as Nick bit her neck hard. “Yeah, there’s the hit.” She more or less gasped.
“Did you doubt me?” Nick pulled off, ignoring the urge to lick the bite marks. No blood, more’s the pity.
“Jean-Paul chooses kiss every time, you choose hit. You’re kind of obvious that way.” Marie-Angelique threw out.
“Fuck you, I am not.” Nick frowned, extracting himself.
Before anyone could have a smartass comment about it, he spun the damn bottle.
He groaned as it landed back on his old spot– nearly.
Guillaume didn’t even say anything, just smirking as he quirked a finger in a come hither.
“Asshole. I’m not a dog.” Nick climbed to his feet and walked over. “You’re supposed to come to me, while I keep my eyes closed.”
“You can keep your eyes closed like this.” Guillaume patted his lap and Nick strongly considered just punching first and derailing the whole game.
That would be stupid, they hadn’t even done a full round yet. His plans aren’t so shit that they fall apart right away, unlike some people’s.
Nick also wasn’t a pussy, so he climbed onto Guillaume’s lap while the asshole looked down at him.
“Short ass.” Guillaume said, solely because he could see Nick bristling.
“Don’t even start, you’re barely fucking taller than me.”
“All pretty in my lap and I’m still looking down at you. Most people get propped up.”
“Are we doing this or not!?”
“Up to you, princess. Close your eyes for me?” Guillaume looked so unbothered, it was irritating as hell.
“I know how to play the goddamn game.” Nick slammed his eyes closed, immediately regretting it. Having no sight around Guillaume was the norm, of course, but now he was somehow more vulnerable— the position didn’t help– and his skin started prickling immediately.
He wasn’t chickenshit, but it fucking sucked being blind and tense and in the asshole’s stupid fucking lap.
His thin ass fingers landed on Nick’s hips, familiar and irritating. Holding him steady. Bitch, like he needed that shit? Nick was fine.
“We should give you a safeword.” Guillaume said, still so far away, and entirely unhurried.
“Don’t you fucking dare with that shit.” Nick snarled. “I’m not some– mmh.”
Guillaume kissed like he talked, unhurried, unbothered, without a care in the world. He made it fucking slow.
And he was good at it, which was some horseshit.
After several long, stupid minutes of just kissing like they didn’t have anything better to do, Guillaume eased away and murmured, “But Jean-Paul is the one who likes kissing, right?”
Nick surged forward and kissed him properly, biting at his lips. It was immediately better, rougher, more real. Guillaume tried to laugh into it and Nickholas bit him harder, pushed him down into the couch, dug his thumb into the fucker’s shoulder until his brother was fighting for air and reacting with little shifts and groans.
“I knew you two were fags like that.” Cherie said gleefully.
Nick gave one last parting drag of his teeth against a soft bottom lip and pulled away wiping spit from his mouth.
He was still gathering his wits and only managed an errant finger thrust her way, but Guillaume was ready.
Leaning back casually in his seat like he wasn’t hard with Nick in his lap, he responded: “People who beg to get raped don’t get to talk, sister.”
Cherie flushed. From offense or not, he didn’t know. Maybe she got turned on just thinking about it, that would fit.
“Yeah, what he said.” Nick slid off Guill’s lap to sit next to him, casually jabbing fingers into the nearest pressure point. “You like being fucked rough in the ass way too much to talk shit.”
Sebastian, a bottle of water halfway to his lips, choked.
“She what?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Jean-Paul asked. “Regular sex is boring for our dearest Cherie. She wants it rough. She wants it to hurt. Pretty fucked up to like being raped more than the other stuff.”
“You want to talk?” Cherie, red-faced, threw a lock of hair over her shoulder. “I feel exactly how much you enjoy it when Daddy fucks your little hole.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Nick, surprisingly, found the words coming from him as something cold lodged in his gut.
“Yeah, Cher, not cool.” Valentina rolled her eyes. “We know you like it but the rest of us don’t want daddy’s attention that way.”
Sebastian’s knuckles were white around his drink. His hand shook as he set it down.
“She’s sad daddy won’t rape her.” Marie-Angelique giggled a little. “I’m actually surprised Nick raped her. What’d she give you to agree to that?”
“Can we stop talking about fucking Cherie?” Nicholas complained. “I got talked into it, leave me alone. Hole is hole.”
“And you’re usually so discerning about what hole you stick your dick in.” Guillaume said blithely, obligingly reaching down to spin the bottle Val kicked over to him.
“Bitch.” Nick kicked his shin.
They watched the bottle spin idly, the lack of force sending it through one and a half slow rotations. Lazy motherfucker. It slowed to a gradual stop in front of Jean-Paul.
Their youngest brother went a little still, like a hiker finding a snake in his path.
“Well, that’s a kiss.” Nicholas said, nudging Guillaume who swatted at him without looking.
“Oh, you were serious?” Valentina asked. “He’s really that into it?”
“The baby likes being kissed.” Guillaume leaned against the cushions again, thin-faced and a small smirk tipping his lips. “Isn’t that right, Sebastian.”
“I– don’t know what you’re talking about.” A brief hesitation, something like a swallow.
Nicholas smelled blood in the water.
Fuck off, has Guillaume been holding out on him? The way Jean-Paul’s throat bobbed and his pulse sped up said ‘yes, absolutely, Guillaume is a punkass bitch who has been hoarding delicious, delicious secrets.’
Guillaume held Sebastian’s eyes for a long moment and looked away, offering Jean-Paul a hot little look.
“Well, baby? Come get your kiss.”
Jean-Paul stood, movements a little jerky before his gait smoothed out like his face, seemingly unaffected.
“You don’t know anything.” The baby muttered, approaching the couch. Nick couldn’t help making faces at him, smirking and cutting his eyebrows in whatever ways would be the most mocking.
Jean-Paul spared him a glare before focusing on the prize.
“So you’ve been wanting this real bad, huh?” Nick eased back against the cushions, throwing his arms over the back of it and propping his feet up.
“It’s not your turn anymore, mind your business.” Jean-Paul’s nose wrinkled as he looked back to Guillaume like a moth to a flame. “And you, close your eyes.”
“You better make it count, twerp, it’s all you’re getting.” Guillaume’s eyes dropped closed, though he lifted a hand to push black curls out of his face.
Jean-Paul grumbled the entire way. He eased over Guillaume, not quite touching him– and not climbing into his lap without the engraved dare of an invitation Nick got– and looked adorably conflicted for several long seconds.
“Well?” Guillaume rose a brow, eyes still closed.
Jean-Paul’s eyes narrowed briefly before he dropped his fist into Guillaume’s lap, jabbing him in the nads. Guillaume grunted and doubled over, but the sound was drowned out immediately by Nick cackling at the top of his lungs.
Then Jean-Paul lightning quick darted in and pecked Guillaume on the lips before running the fuck away.
Guillaume flung a hand out after him, the other clutched protectively around the jewels.
“Hey! Give it back!” Jean-Paul squealed as his journey across the room became a lot slower. “Fuck, Seb, reach out if I’m close, I can’t hear you.”
“You made it most of the way.” Sebastian said uselessly, reaching out and snagging the baby’s ankle. “Sit down.”
“Here? Okay. Someone throw me the bottle.”
Nicholas, feeling charitable, kicked it over, still chuckling. Jean-Paul having to pat around the floor to feel for it wasn’t killing his delight any, either.
“Wait, I can’t see. You assholes are going to say it lands on Cherie no matter who it points at.”
Well, he wasn’t, but he was now, that was great. Brat always had the best ideas; Nick was going to steal that one for sure.
Guillaume was still wincing and holding onto his cock.
“Next time it’s your turn, you can have someone kiss it all better.” Nick said, dropping an unsympathetic hand on his shoulder that Guillaume snapped at.
Oh, bitey. Rare.
Jean-Paul had him in fine form.
“Sebastian, you’ll tell me who it actually lands on, right?” Jean-Paul turned to the blonde, eyes sightless but still that eerie color.
Nick leaned forward, curious. Why would Sebastian agree to that? Did he have a favorite? He was sweet on Jean-Paul when he was little, but not recently, right?
Unless something had changed?
“…Sure.” Sebastian said eventually, looking around the assembled siblings with a mistrustful expression. His eyes meeting Nick’s skipped away, and Nick smiled a little.
Jean-Paul spun the bottle.
“Oh, we don’t even have to make up a name.” Nick said gleefully, as Cherie laughed.
Valentina chuckled, “Vengeance already? When he can’t even see it coming?”
“You made it obvious who it is, dipshit.” Nick complained. “C’mon, it would have been hilarious to surprise him.”
“Ah, fuck, it landed on Guillaume, didn’t it?” Jean-Paul slumped. “Just get it over with, then.”
“Maybe I want to take my time.” Guillaume climbed to his feet, paused. “You little shit.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” Jean-Paul sighed.
“Stand up for it.” Guillaume decided. “And I’m keeping your sight, so don’t even ask.”
“Aww, but what if he wanted to see you in front of him?” Marie-Angelique teased easily. “Let him at least get a show while you get your hit in.”
“No, the rules say keep your eyes closed!” Cherie leaned forward, eager, as always, to see someone get their shit rocked.
Nicholas could admit to some curiosity himself. He threw his legs up on the freed couch and sat back to enjoy the show.
Jean-Paul got to his feet without a protest, frame tense.
Guillaume drew slim fingers along his chin, down his neck. Paused to trace over his mouth, which parted obediently for the kiss he wasn’t going to get.
Then the half-blonde idiot surprised Nick by dipping down to brush their lips together, whisper soft– a tease of a kiss that shocked a tiny sound from their little brother.
He repeated the action a few times, butterfly soft kisses not quite touching, until Jean-Paul was a little pink, dazed and leaning into it, leaning up onto his toes, unconsciously chasing each brush of lips–
And then Guillaume reached down and grabbed a handful of brat crotch and squeezed, the breath wheezing out of Jean-Paul all high-pitched and squeaking.
Music to Nicholas’ fucking ears, Guillaume was truly his favorite.
“Instant karma.” Valentina laughed, unsympathetic.
Guillaume’s wrist flexed, readjusting his grip to be tighter. Jean-Paul’s legs widened on pained instinct as he fought to keep his footing, face red and breathing hard.
“Hurts?” Guillaume asked, voice low and unconcerned.
Jean-Paul jerked a nod.
“Good.” Guillaume twisted his hand, squeezing tighter, forcing a pained whistle of breath from the baby’s throat.
“C-C’mon, it’s– done– you—-” Breaths sucked in faster than he could speak, wincing harshly.
“Rules don’t say how long the hit can be.” Guillaume fluttered his lashes flirtatiously. “You might have to beg.”
“Jerk.” Jean-Paul gasped, tears welling. He tried to shift his weight and mostly failed, shaking as their brother cruelly and casually squeezed his little bits.
“He’s kinda cute like this.” Nicholas said, surprised. “Look at those wide eyes.”
“Nah, it’s the strangle reflex.” Marie-Angelique said, also watching avidly. “Squeeze reflex? Whatever it is with the really cute small things, like you just wanna squeeze and squeeze until you kill it and the feeling stops.”
“That’s the one.” Nick agreed, cheerfully. “Gui, squeeze him to death.”
“Do not.” Jean-Paul wheezed.
“Tempting.” Guillaume said, a smile playing on his lips. “But he can live if he begs.”
“Eat me.” Jean-Paul managed, all one breath.
Guillaume eyed him for a moment, like a particularly interesting specimen, then bent over to kiss him again. Jean-Paul whimpered into it, a shaky pathetic sound that made Nick need to bite something.
Kissing was the baby’s favorite, and he visibly tried to enjoy it but kept coming back to the incredibly inescapable fact that Guillaume had his junk in a vice and it hurt.
Guillaume started rubbing his palm back in forth in a parody of a handjob and the kid winced.
“Okay, okay– fuck, stop.” Jean-Paul’s hands came up to clutch at Guillaume’s forearms.
Guillaume kissed him hotly. Jean-Paul jerked away from it panting, little ah-ahnn-nnn sounds trailing after his breaths, and squirmed.
“Stop it, I’m done, I– fine, please.”
Their brother waited several long, indulgent seconds before giving the crotch a parting squeeze and a friendly pat, slinking back to his spot on the couch and picking up the bottle as he went.
Jean-Paul collapsed onto the ground.
Motherfucker unlimited raised an unimpressed brow at Nick’s legs in his seat.
“Move, dickhead.”
“Make me.” Nick glittered up at him.
Guillaume snorted and shoved Nick’s feet off the couch, sitting down and bending over to set up for his turn.
“Next one of you touches my dick, I’m smashing the bottle and using it as a shank.” He said flatly. “Just so we’re clear.”
“Dick’s off limit, got it.” Valentina smirked. “Nicky, however will you cope?”
“Yeah, have you ever had to go a full day without it before?” Cherie asked in tones of mock concern.
“Spin the damn bottle.” Nick rolled his eyes.
Guillaume shot him a brief smirk, all eyes, and winked at Jean-Paul, who was gingerly patting his dick area.
The bottle spun, the bottle slowed down, the bottle landed on Nicholas again.
“What kind of fucking sausage fest is this.” Cherie complained. “I don’t want to watch Nick and Jean-Paul take turns kissing their boytoy.”
“No, you want to kiss them, too.” Valentina rolled her eyes. “That’s the point of the game, right? To kiss each other?”
“Or to smack the shit out of each other.” Marie-Angelique said happily. “No more crotch shots, though, or it’s gonna get messy.”
“What’s that you said about kissing it better?” Guillaume turned to Nick playfully.
“Don’t even.” Shoving the other boy, Nick rolled his eyes. “Why, you need some head? I bet Jean-Paul will give you some sloppy sucky even after you were so damn mean to him.”
Jean-Paul glared.
“No, thanks, I’m not a pedophile.”
Jean-Paul glared harder.
“You were literally just palming his dick.”
“I was bullying my little brother, it’s not a sex thing.” Guillaume leaned against Nick, forcing him into the couch. Shifted to kind of face him. “Don’t make it weird.”
Amusement laced through his tone, he closed his eyes.
“Fucker.” Nick considered a nut shot just for the hell of it. Bullshit that Jean-Paul got to and he didn’t, right?
But no, Guillaume didn’t make idle threats, dick punting was off the table for now.
Sliding a hand into the stupid blonde part of his hair, and behind his neck, Nick aimed for the soft place under his chin.
“Fucking– always the gnawing with you.” Guillaume laughed at him.
Nick chewed.
“Don’t draw blood.” Idle fingers petting through Nick’s curls, infuriating in how unconcerned he sounded. Like Nick wasn’t actually inconveniencing him.
The urge to bite down, to taste blood, was almost overwhelming.
He settled for a particularly mean bite and drew away.
Kicking the bottle halfway across the room saw it give a half-turn to land on Marie-Angelique.
“Aww, your angel awaits.” Guillaume extracted himself and nudged Nick back to his side of the couch.
“My turn again!” Marie-Angelique flounced up, white waves bouncing. “Damn, it’s so hard to decide with him. On the one hand, he’d be irritated with a kiss. On the other… hmm.”
She climbed into his lap without hesitation, patting Guillaume on the shoulder as she brushed against him. He watched with amusement as the girl leaned into Nick and breathed hot against his neck.
“Biting is fine, hmm? You like biting.” Her voice was saccharine sweet.
“Understatement, Mar.” Valentina laughed. “Does he like being bitten, though? Resident experts weigh in.”
“Yes.” Guillaume sold him out without a second’s pause. Nick glared at him.
“Oh, nice. Then I don’t have to feel bad.” She nosed his jaw out of the way, forcing it up, and Nick swallowed, anticipating. Her sharp little teeth, so small, her delicate mouth–
By the time she actually bit him he was far too into it and had to work to keep his damn mouth shut.
“Aww, he didn’t moan.” Marie-Angelique kissed around the bite mark, all sweet. “But he’s sounds so pretty when he moans, right, Gui?”
“Pretty might be overstating things.”
Guilllaume knew he hated that shit; Nick was a little surprised he didn’t reach for the low-hanging fruit, and immediately suspicious.
“He’s cute at least, though, right? Right?” Marie-Angelique turned his face this way and that, like a damn horse at auction. Nick bit at her fingers and she giggled.
“If you say so.” Guillaume picked her up by the hips and tugged her off, depositing her back onto the floor as she yelled in delight and burst out into giggles.
“Spin the bottle, Angel.” Nick rubbed at his neck as he sat back up, a little tingly.
“Fine.” She pouted a little, then set it spinning. “Oh. I got myself. What do I do then?”
“Just spin again, I guess. Or you could slap yourself.” Jean-Paul shrugged, voice still a little strained from his ordeal.
“Spinning again, got it.” They watched as it slowed to a stop in front of Sebastian.
The conflict on his face was entertaining as hell.
It was Marie-Angelique, what was he going to do, slap her? He could, but it felt a little wrong, like beating a puppy. Then again, he had weird hang ups about the incest thing, and the age thing, and– everything about life in of daddy’s little cape army, so he probably didn’t want to kiss her, either.
Nick enjoyed watching him struggle to choose.
Sex or violence, you had to pick one in this fucking house. Some of them went for both.
It was fun watching the whore try to do neither.
“Bothered by a little kissing?” Nick teased.
Sebastian leveled an instinctive glare at him only to flinch when he made eye contact. That’s right, little normie, Nick is the big scary cape.
“No.” Sebastian said dryly, climbing to his feet. He was only a few feet away but chose not to crawl, instead settling down in a half crouch in front of Marie-Angelique and cupping her face easily.
He made the kiss all gay and sweet and short before sitting back down.
Despite himself, Nick approved. Marie-Angelique liked it sweet like that, it fit her whole– thing. The whatever it was with the lipstick and the five thousand fucking stuffed animals she hauled around and all the cutesy shit.
Fucking her rough in her big soft bed with all the squishy things watching always felt weird, out of place. Like she wanted to replace some of the blood and fear with cute shit, and getting railed– even when she wanted it– was the unusual thing.
Either way, she giggled after the kiss and Sebastian looked phenomenally uncomfortable.
Nick laughed at his facial expression.
He paused as a soft pressure touched his leg; looked down and saw Guillaume’s socked toe rubbing along his calf. Hm. Fucker?
Looking at his brother gave no clues, asshole focused in on the show and Sebastian begrudgingly taking his second turn. Nick, however, was cognizant of the slow stroke along his leg.
Between them, Guillaume absently touched a fingertip to the seam of Nick’s jeans, at the outside of his thigh.
Alright, then.
A whisper of blackness at the edge of his vision, Guillaume’s power fucking flirting with him. The tingle at the tips of his fingers suggesting sensory deprivation.
“Cut it out, asshole, the bottle landed on me.” Nick murmured, and indeed it had. Sebastian looked incredibly wary and also resigned.
“Distracted?” Guillaume asked out of the corner of his mouth without looking away from the center of the room, from their siblings talking.
Nick shoved him on his way up. Dickhead.
“Close your eyes and pucker up, Seb-asshole.”
“Right, because the ‘ass’ part of my name has never been mocked before. Clever.”
“You’re entirely too brazen tonight.” Nick decided, walking over. He kicked Jean-Paul on the way and ate the resulting muscle spasms without flinching.
Sebastian got more and more tense the closer he got. Nick circled him like a shark before kneeling down.
Something close to fear, but too tired to be the real thing, poured off the blonde in waves.
“Look at you, poor thing.” Nick smirked as he got closer. Sebastian closed his eyes pointedly, as though hiding the pinprick pupils could disguise how tight his jaw, that his entire body was tense with it.
“Just do it already.” Sebastian grit out.
“You think the waiting is the worst part?” Nick asked, faux-sympathic, milking it. “Hm, decisions, decisions.”
“You literally always pick ‘hit’, just get on with it.” Guillaume drawled from the couch.
“Fuck you. I kissed you, didn’t I?” Nick pinched off a glare bitchward. Then back to his prey, slow smile creeping in again.
A hum.
“Maybe he has a point, yeah?” Leaning in, a little excitement in his voice. “Should I hurt you?”
“It’s your thing.” Sebastian said dryly, almost– almost– belaying the harsh bob of his throat. “Might as well own it.”
“Sounds like you want my teeth.” Nick purred, watching the tiniest drop of sweat bead at Sebastian’s forehead.
“I want you to get it over with.” Words too fast, accompanied by a small flinch as Nick shifted in front of him.
“Hmm.” Nick reached out, took his jaw. Turned his face first left, then right, as though trying to decide.
Sebastian’s mouth opened a little as he struggled to keep still, despite his racing heart.
“You’re so fucking afraid of me.” Nick breathed. “I like that.”
“Freak.” Sebastian said, only to wince again with immediate regret.
Nick barked a sharp laugh.
“No, say it louder. I could make you afraid, if you really want. See if you don’t piss yourself right here, right now.”
“Please don’t.” Sebastian’s voice tried to be wry, but it was– small. A little shaky.
Delicious.
“But I’m into that kind of thing, right? I like them afraid, scared–”
“Covered in piss.” Guillaume piped up, breaking the moment.
Nick threw the finger at him and Guillaume laughed under his breath.
“Are you done playing with your food, Nicky?” Cherie said, boredly. As though she wasn’t watching with riveted eyes. She loved watching someone get pushed around; the only thing better than physical domination was the psychological damage brought to bear.
“Well, if Cherie would get off on it…” Nick trailed off, just to watch Sebastian go completely stiff in anticipation. “… Pass.”
Jean-Paul’s laughter rang out, first to understand.
The little shit kept laughing, as Cherie complained, and Nick pressed his lips to Sebastian’s unyielding mouth.
The kiss registered fucking eventually and Sebastian made a surprised sound. He just kind of stared for a second before tentatively kissing back a few moments later.
Nick allowed it, largely bored, until he finally pressed close with a parting kiss and edged back.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, yeah? Fuckin’ coward.”
“We’ve told you before, Nico, you can’t fear-beam people until they’re a neurotic mess and then mock them for being scared. It’s your own fault.” Valentina teased.
“Don’t call me that.” He snapped, only to get instantly ignored like this was a fucking sleepover. Girls chattering about nothing.
“It’s definitely the power, though.” Marie-Angelique volunteered. “Nicholas isn’t scary.”
They all paused to look at her.
Nick was so offended he couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“Well, his face is scary, anyway.” Jean-Paul said lamely.
Nick, distracted, zeroed his sights in on the baby and narrowed his eyes until Jean-Paul eased back a little. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t look scared– he never did, these days, though rest assured Nick had made sure he could still be afraid– but he did shrink away.
Good.
“You want some of this, brat?” Nick wiggled his fingers. Let them fuckin’ wonder if he was talking about the power or the pain of a ‘hit’ in the game.
“Hey, no, it’s your turn!” Valentina leaned far enough to snatch the bottle and toss it towards Nick. “Don’t start extra stuff, it’ll turn into group sex and Sebastian will freak the fuck out.”
Sebastian had indeed stiffened up again immediately, going ramrod straight at the mere mention of an orgy starting around him.
For a moment it was really fucking tempting.
“Nah, I’m not into little boys.” Nick said. “Don’t worry, Jean-Paul, your tight little ass is safe from me.”
Jean-Paul scowled at him.
“Not so tight, these days.” Guillaume drawled.
Jean-Paul reared on him.
“Shut the fuck up.” He said, heart pumping. An awful lot of emotion for the baby.
Then again, dad fucking diddling you wasn’t for the faint of fucking heart, either.
Even thinking of it made a pit open up in Nick’s stomach, so he swallowed and shot Guillaume a glare. Then, figuring he deserved it, made the asshole flinch with several seconds of visceral, pants-shitting terror.
Guillaume clenched his jaw through it and then smirked at Nick.
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a wad, Prince-olas.” Guillaume said, canines glinting as he drew the words out slowly. “I just want to watch him squirm, don’t you?”
“Don’t call me that.” Nick repeated. “And shut up about the baby fucking, nobody wants to think of that shit.”
“Hey!” Jean-Paul protested, in general.
“Well. Most of us don’t, anyway.” With that cryptic bullshit, Guillaume leaned back in the seat. “Spin the bottle, then.”
“Whatever you’re planning, it’s fucking gay.” Nick grumbled, reaching for the glass. “Just get to the goddamn point already.”
“Aren’t you meant to be the oldest? The most mature? Have some patience.”
Nick pulled a face at him. A sharp twist of his wrist sent the wine bottle spinning.
The bottle spun around a bit and landed on Marie-Angelique.
“I never get to have any fun.” Cherie complained, only to pause. “Well, not that I want to kiss Nick, so– it’s fine, actually.”
“I don’t want to kiss you either.” Nick grunted before easing back on his palms, eyes falling shut. “C’mere, Angel.”
“Coming.” She was grinning, he could tell that much just by sound. A rustling, and then her flowery perfume in his face. Nick fought a grimace.
“Aw, poor baby, nobody’s taking care of you tonight.” She said lightly in his ear. “All this sweetness and kisses, it’s probably giving you cavities, yeah?”
“Something like that.” Nick kept his eyes closed, feeling her warmth as she leaned in.
“Don’t worry. I know what you like.” Reluctantly interested, he figured he was going to get a toothy kiss, rough and bitey. His pulse betrayed him by speeding up at the thought.
Then she nudged his jaw up and out of the way and started kissing his neck, and he was half-hard immediately with anticipation as she draped soft kisses up and down his skin.
“That is not a hit.” Valentina pointed out. “It’s not technically a kiss, either.”
“She’s getting there.” Nick clenched and unclenched his fingers in the carpet, dick tingling as it filled out.
Breathy laughter against his throat, the tease and promise of teeth in the next press of lips. He shivered.
“Fuck. Such a tease.” His voice came out so rough, an octave lower than it was meant to be. Words a quiet exchange between them, not loud enough for anyone else to make out clearly.
She hummed against his skin, pleased with herself. It took a few more minutes of idly making out with his neck, Nick jolting forward every time she opened her mouth, thinking– this time, surely.
But it was always the sweet, light drag of her teeth and not the real thing. God.
When she finally bit down, hard and without warning, it made his toes curl and his vision swim. He arched into it.
No fucking mercy, Jesus, she did know exactly what he liked.
Nick came down from it panting and twitching a little when her tongue kitten-licked over the forming bruise.
“Alright, alright, get off him. It’s your turn so we can move on with the game.”
“Maybe I want to play from right here.” Marie-Angelique was atop his legs, having climbed on his lap at some point.
She reached over and spun the bottle without leaving, still teasing the indentation of her teeth in his skin. Every few seconds she’d suck the bite mark and Nick painted the inside of his goddamn boxers with fucking pre like he was Jean-Paul’s age and leaky.
“You’re gonna have to get off me for your turn.” He muttered, a little dazed. Marie-Angelique shrugged.
“Maybe. Depends. I could get you again and give you a matching mark right… here.” She tapped the unblemished other side of his neck with a pointed finger and Nick’s cock jumped.
The bottle slowed to a stop.
“Aww, the baby again.” Marie-Angelique sighed as she leaned away from him. “Alright, Jean, lay it on me.”
“It might be a hit.” Jean-Paul said as he shuffled over, face utterly blank but more animated than normal in his body language, something almost eager in the set of his shoulders.
“It’s not.” Marie-Angelique said confidently.
“It could be! I’d slap the shit out of Cherie.” Jean-Paul protested.
“It’s not.” She repeated, as the brunette in question protested.
“I–”
“Give it a rest, kid, we know you like kissing. It’s whatever. Own it. Get your lip-locking where you can, it’s better than the other shit.” Nick said, slicing through the dumb ass back and forth.
Jean-Paul narrowed his eyes at Nick briefly as he settled in front of Marie-Angelique. And, consequently, in front of Nick. To the side of him. Whatever.
“Eyes closed, please.” The kid said all polite.
“Okay.” Amusement laced through her voice. “They’re closed.”
The kiss ended up being sweet and soft and a dozen other things Nick wouldn’t usually ascribe to Jean-Paul. Maybe daddy raping him had unlocked some strange need for gentleness in him, the way it had made Nick need the opposite.
He frowned at the thought. Ugh.
Jean-Paul pulled away with fluttery lashes and a naturally-pouty mouth, looking like a fucking girl, all pink from a kiss.
“Fucking goddamn zygote, I swear.” Nick muttered. Then, louder: “Okay now roll the fucking bottle, and don’t land on me this time. Got it?”
“Bitch.” Jean-Paul snarked, nose wrinkling, and earning himself his first warning shot of fear-blast.
He jerked like he’d been slapped, because he had been, and flipped Nick off. He spun the bottle.
“Not Cherie, not Cherie…” The kid murmured under his breath, making Nick snort.
The last slow revolution lingered on the bitch in question for far too long before tipping that last little bit towards Valentina, and Jean-Paul slumped with relief.
“Don’t worry, kid, none of us want to get Cherie either.” Valentina glanced over at the girl and smirked. “Aww, humiliation? Fear? Give me more, this is pussy shit.”
She weathered the mood swings as Cherie glared and, apparently, used her power. It was embarrassing, honestly. Unlike when Nick hit people with his instant and awesome power, Cherie had to pick apart the emotions and pick the right strings to pluck.
“Too bad you can’t amp up respect, but that’s not really a feeling, is it?” Valentina mocked. “Oh, wow, self-loathing. So heavy-handed.”
Cherie glared at her.
Nick dumped fear over both of them.
Their eye contact jerked apart, both shuddering. Valentina’s eyes got wide.
“Yes, yes, ladies. You’re both pretty. Well, Cherie’s not, but you get the picture. Both of you have a big dick, no need to measure.” Nick dumped Marie-Angelique out of his lap and stood up, adjusting his dick casually.
He’d gone mostly soft when Cherie started talking, to be fair.
“Jean-Paul, eyes closed. Guillaume, move your gay ass.”
“Bossy.” Guillaume grunted, scooting over a little– mostly not looking away from the kid and their oldest sister. “Daddy’s away and Nick really is in charge, huh.”
A half-hearted attempt at best and Nick sat down heavily. He remembered the little touches of earlier and decided, fuck it, throwing his legs onto Guillaume’s lap.
Asshole wanted to play? Nick could play. He shifted slightly until he could slide his ankle along Guillaume’s knee, up his thigh a little.
“Don’t break him.” Nick reminded Valentina, who was edging toward Jean-Paul.
The kid’s eyes were closed, looking for all the world bored and uninterested.
“If daddy couldn’t, you think I will?” She threw a saucy look over her shoulder. “I could always take a page out of Guillaume’s book and play rough with his little cock.”
“He started it.” Guillaume said, amused but unbothered. “Don’t make it sound like I groped him for fun.”
“Didn’t you? Looked fun to me.” Nick eased back against the arm of the couch.
“Maybe a little fun.” Guillaume huffed. “You’re right, barely-pubescent cock is what gets me going. I lay awake thinking about it.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Was it really little, Gui?” Valentina walked her fingers down Jean-Paul’s chest, which he swatted at ineffectually.
“Seriously?” The kid complained.
“We’ll be generous and say he’s still growing.” Guillaume almost smirked, eyes sweeping the room and landing on Sebastian– who did look distressed, the pansy– for a beat longer than necessary.
“I hate all of you.”
“Hate is a strong word for such a little guy.” Valentina said, sickly sweet. Oh, god, she was going to do the baby voice. Nick leaned forward to watch.
“Not this.” Jean-Paul said, nasally with a hint of whine. “C’mon, isn’t my turn over? That voice is a ‘hit’ all on its own.”
“Cope.” Nick suggested, amusement rising.
Jean-Paul’s shoulders twitched a little in what would be squirming on anyone else.
“Baby boy likes kisses, hmm?” Valentina leaned in. “That’s so cute. Our little guy just wants to crawl in someone’s lap and be taken care of. So sweet.”
“You’re not– that— much older than me.” Jean-Paul said, unphased. “Stop making it weird.”
“And what a mouth on him!” Valentina went full baby voice. “Perfect for kisses, I guess. Baby just wants to feel good, yeah? Baby wants sweet kisses and petting?”
“Baby wants to be done with this, now.” Jean-Paul said dryly.
Nick snorted hard.
“Spoilsport.” Valentina said in her normal voice. She slid both hands up to cup Jean-Paul’s face and kissed him deeply.
He made a surprised noise into it, caught off guard– and desperately trying to pretend he wasn’t super fucking into it.
Nick didn’t need Cherie’s power to tell it was a losing battle; that the kid was enjoying it was profoundly obvious. He made little noises and practically melted, sucking on Valentina’s tongue.
When she finally pulled back, his face was lightly pink, eyes dazed.
“Good boy.” She purred, mockingly, and he didn’t even scowl.
Valentina patted his cheek and stepped away.
“That’s, what, at least two rounds?” The redhead palmed the wine bottle assessingly.
“It shouldn’t count if I haven’t had a second turn.” Cherie said.
“No, that’s stupid. Nick’s had like a million turns, we’re not going to have a half-hour long round one just because the bottle refuses to touch you.”
Valentina flicked the bottle into a spin before Cherie could say anything else.
Many sets of eyes turned to the couch. Nick blinked down at the bottle, label now peeling off at the corner from the rough handling.
“Seriously?” He asked.
“Looks that way. Lucky me, etc.” Valentina picked the bottle up, setting it upright, cork towards the ceiling.
“We should use a different bottle, this one is rigged.” Jean-Paul elbowed Sebastian, who laughed a little.
“It’s just got poor taste.” Guillaume said. “Keeps choosing this asshole or his mini me.”
Nicholas and Jean-Paul pulled identical faces loudly disagreeing, noses scrunched and brows drawn.
“I don’t look like him.” Jean-Paul said, nose wrinkled.
“He’s not my mini-anything.” Nick punched Guillaume.
“No, I can see it.” Mary-Angelique, the traitor, said. She was laying out on a pillow now, belly down on a big fluffy thing pulled from who knows where.
Her feet kicked up behind her, crossing and uncrossing.
“Bitch?” Nick said, in tones of polite disbelief.
Valentina started counting on her fingers: “You’ve both got the same face shape, blue eyes–”
“That’s literally all of us, we’re siblings.” Jean-Paul protested.
“Let me finish, goddamn.” Valentina laughed. “You two have the– you know, the curly black hair. Real curly. Plus, the mouth.”
“The mouth.” Marie-Angelique agreed sagely.
“Wait, what about their mouths?” Sebastian looked around.
“Huh.” Cherie looked up from her phone. “I never really noticed before. The shape. Same color. It’s just Nick’s always scowling or smirking, and the brat is always–” She gestured at her face, letting all emotion drop completely until a blank mask stared back.
He wasn’t always scowling or smirking, what the hell, he had blank or neutral facial expressions, or sneering or–
“Fuck.” Guillaume looked back and forth before dropping his head heavily on the back of the couch. He drew a hand over his face with a groan. “I can see it. I hate that I can see it.”
“What, that Jean-Paul and Nicholas look alike? They also most look like dad.” Marie-Angelique said it so casually, Nick shot her a look of utter betrayal. “Sorry, honey, but you do!”
“I hate it here.” Jean-Paul decided. “Fuck off. I don’t look like him and I certainly don’t look like fucking dad.”
“Fuck off, huh? Now you even sound like him.” Valentina giggled. “D’aw, little mini-Nick for real. Next thing we know, you’re gonna be stalking through the halls kicking kids and knocking shit down for fun.”
“Quick, scowl at Guillaume then let him suck your dick.” Cherie said, leaning forward.
Jean-Paul glared hard at Cherie. His hand twitched and she slapped herself in the face, hard. Normally, his control wasn’t so effective on her, but Nick had also chosen that moment to drench her in nightmare fuel.
The distraction paid off, the slap ringing through the room. Cherie gasped, red spreading from the handprint to her cheeks. Her legs rubbed together obviously.
“Can you not cum about it?” Nick groaned. “Jesus, you take all the fun out of my power.”
It also kind of made him want to fuck her, which sucked, just so he could hold her under his power until she really did cum from just that, pussy squeezing like a vice around his dick.
Was it worth fucking Cherie for?
So far, no, but now he had to fucking. Stay sober or some shit through their extended weekend, because if he was cooped up in here much longer it would start to sound like a great idea.
Maybe he’d confess his sins to Gui and get some sense fucked into him.
“Not looking good for you on the kiss front, V.” Nick crossed his arms, glaring.
“Please, like you were ever going to kiss me.” She rolled her eyes. “At best I’d get a gnawed lip, at worst some clit torture– and we already outlawed the crotch fondling.”
“Crotch fondling is still on the table, actually.” Cherie put in eagerly. “It’s the torture part that’s banned. No hitting or squeezing. Stroking, however…”
She shivered.
Nick would rather a number of painful or embarrassing things happen to his cock before he condescended to let Cherie stroke it. Gross.
“He’s not going to stroke anything, either.” Val rolled her eyes as Nick crossed the small space. “He’s had too many kisses in a row, it’s going to be a bite or a literal hit.”
“That so?” Perfectly aware that this was the third time he’d been goaded into a kiss rather than hurting one of them in new and interesting ways, Nick tangled a hand through the back of her hair and pulled her close.
His fingers clutched at the roots, hurting with a grip so tight, but Valentina didn’t fight it when he started biting at her mouth.
Gnawed? He’d show her gnawing…
Nick bit her chin harshly before moving away.