#“i remember you mentioning it before”

[prettyboykatsuki]

MY LOVE, MY ALIBI | CALEB | XIA YIZHOU (LNDS)

♡ tags ; psuedocest / adoptive incest, afab + fem!reader, minor age-gap (3 years), mentions / non graphic depictions of child abuse (from readers days in the orphanage), childhood crushing, mutual pining, developing relationship, size difference, some religious imagery, loss of virginity, petnames (baby, princess, pipsquak), use of meimei once and gege a few times but very sparing, oral (f!recieving), nipple play, marking, light masochism from reader, mouth-spitting, fingering, bare-backing, 18+

♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)

♡ a/n ; hey. this is an incest fic for adoptive siblings. if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. block me if you need to. please spare me lecture.

also - i have reader be carried by caleb a couple of times but dude has a bionic arm so he's strong as shit to me. the size difference tag is mostly about his dick. aside from the carrying there is no phyiscal indicators for reader

important to the fic but i play in simplified cn. please go listen to the simplified cn voice actor before you read this. for my sanity. most of my characterization is based on various cn translations from the kind cn fanbase. special thank you to mao @/yinyuedijun and this yt channel.

♡ synopsis ; for as long as you can remember, the sight of caleb's back is whats made you feel safest. it's no surprise that every man that comes after him never quite measures up.

extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar

PART ONE: ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

At seven, you knock out one of your teeth roughhousing with one of the orphanage boys. 

The good news? You’re winning. You’re at the age where size matters more than gender but the boy you’re fighting is both bigger and older than you. 

Even so, you manage to pull off shoving him back.

You don’t know his name, only his face— buzzed head and red gums, the pristine picture of anger. You roll around with him in the small stretch of yard behind the orphanage - white tanktop stained with grass, all knobby knees and short limbs as you fight and fight and fight with every ounce of your strength. 

You are seven with something to prove and a lot already lost. Your pride refuses to let you lose further. You recieve a hit of adrenaline when you launch the top of your head into the older boys chin and hear his teeth clack from how hard it lands. He collapses in a pile, spits curses he learned from the grown-ups that come in and out as he lays there.

He nearly jumps you when you’re both down. Your head is throbbing where his chin connected and you can tell if he decides to fight you again, your chances of winning have slimmed significantly.

You see it in his eyes. In his face. He’s so angry. Always is. You knew it was a bad idea to provoke him to begin with. 

He nearly, nearly jumps you and almost knocks you out completely. 

So you decide it might be better to prepare for it. You fold up. Put your arms up high and brace for impact when a shadow - long, endless, casts over your head. Eyes half open, a familiar pair of beat-up sneakers stand in front of you in the grass. You hear a familiar voice. It’s colder than you’re used to.

“Bullying a little kid is lame,” Caleb says, sharp. It makes you shrink further even though it’s not directed at you. “Quit fighting or I’ll get one of the grown-ups.” 

You can’t see what's in front of you. You only hear a shock of gasps around you—another confrontation that quickly settles into silence before Caleb turns around. 

His face is soft as he bends down to be eye level. Kind, boyish, gentle - he opens up his arms. He’s not happy about something. You can tell because his smile is a little dimmer than normal. You desperately hope it isn’t because of you. 

Even knowing Caleb is going to scold you a bit, you find yourself welling up in tears from relief even over fear. You wail as you wrap your arms around his neck and Caleb hoists you up and carries you on his hip like you’re still a baby.

He’s silent as he carries you into the house. 

“You shouldn’t get into fights,” He says, soothing. You sniffle as he walks you inside. His shirt smells like summer, hands fisted in it. Holding on for dear life.  Call for me next time.” 

Caleb sits you on the mattress, in the room all the older kids share. Your feet don’t touch the ground as he kneels in front of you and rifles around under his bed. He has bandages and alcohol, cotton swabs and gauze. 

His eyes are kind as he assesses your wounds. Pours alcohol onto a cotton pad and frowns each time you sniffle and sob from the pain of getting them cleaned. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t fight anyone, seriously.” 

“Shut up,” You say first. You hang your head low, instant regret. Your hands close again, blunt nails digging into your palms. Your lower lip trembles. Caleb quickly puts a hand on the top of your head when he notices your distress. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Just depend on me, alright?” He grins with the same front tooth missing. Like a mirror image of you, you think. “I’ll always help you.” 

__

At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday. 

You’re the age Caleb was when you met and now you’ve both left the orphanage and lived away from it for a few years. You’ve spent nearly three years with a woman you call Grandma and the world feels a lot kinder with her in your life. She takes good care of you. Gives you a warm bed to sleep in, and good food to eat. Doesn’t get angry when you break cups or get up in the middle of the night to go pee.

You live in a house with only three people and you even get to have your own room—one you don’t have to share, not even with Caleb. It’s nice to sleep where there’s no one else, even if most nights you crawl into Caleb’s bed anyway and sleep next to him because it's more comfortable.

Grandma is nice to you. Sometimes, she looks like she’s somewhere far away but it never lasts for long. You’re thankful to her for taking you in. 

You have a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and Caleb is right next to you. He’s your brother now, so you can be together forever. And none of the adults from the orphanage are here to punish him anymore when he tries to protect you. 

You’re ten and the world seems to be trying its best not to hurt you any further. Somehow, this only makes you feel more uneasy. 

You’re happy. It scares you. You often wonder when someone will punish you for it. If someone will be blamed for allowing it. It makes you feel helpless when you think about it too long. 

But you have Caleb. He makes it easier. You can cling onto his shirt when it gets too hard. And he’s older now, enough to really feel grown up. 

A night, when you clutch the fabric until it stretches wide, trembling after you’re plagued by bad dreams - having nightmares of rusted rain, Caleb is there. 

No matter how deeply asleep, he always wakes up to hold you. 

( You wait for him to tell you that you’re too big to be getting scared over nightmares, but the day still hasn’t come. You hope it never does. You think you’d be so sad you would never stop crying. )

You’re ten, and the world seems kinder - but you know better by now. You try to take precautionary measures against letting it take everything from you again. 

And you start small. With yourself, and your birthday. 

You’ve only ever celebrated a few birthdays. In the orphanage they’d celebrate a lot at once, so it never felt very  special. You can’t really remember the ones you had before then, don’t remember much from then at all.  Since you’ve been adopted, Grandma has celebrated your birthday and made it special. She and Caleb cook your favorite meal together and you sit around and cut-cake afterwards. 

They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.

Your birthdays now don’t compare to the ones you had then. 

Nothing bad is happening but still. You like celebrating your birthday. But, can you feel okay about getting to celebrate a birthday at all? When you thought for sure your life might end before then?

Before your eleventh birthday, you announce to your family that you don’t want to do anything special this year. When they probe you with questions about why not, you refuse to give up any answers.

Caleb is thirteen and heartbroken when he hears you say this. Asks questions even as you turn your nose up and refuse to answer. You get into a fight about it, one of the very first of your entire relationship. 

It’s that same night you begin to sleep in your own room. 

In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you find your house to be more quiet than usual. Caleb is busy with something but you blame yourself for the distance between you. He always comes back seeming tired. Even though he still pats your head and smiles at you the same way, you notice when he seems a little less there at the dinner time. 

When your birthday finally comes, your grandma still decides to celebrate it in a small way. She makes your favorite food and gets you a cake and candles. Hugs you when you cry about it, too. The only thing they skip is the decoration. 

(You’re brave though, when next year rolls around and tell them you miss it. It makes Caleb happy enough to hug you tight.)  

The warmth that fills your heart seeing your name in iced letters is too big for your body. You wonder if this is what having a family was like. 

At night time, after dinner and before you cut the cake - you open your presents. There’s two for your eleventh birthday. One from grandma and one from Caleb. Usually, they sign their gift to you together but this year they’re separate. 

At first, your heart sinks, but you try not to think about it. Grandma gets you a bike that matches Caleb’s so the two of you can ride together. You’re happy to have it but Caleb insists you can just keep riding on the back of his if you don’t want to learn. 

You open Caleb’s gift second. It’s wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on it so you undo it carefully. Inside of it is a plain looking box.  

“Open it,” 

There’s a pair of earrings and a necklace when you do. It’s not cheap plastic like all the other jewelry you’ve ever had in your life. Little apples covered in gemstones, and a little gold necklace with a pendant and a locket. Your eyes go wide, fingers trembling a little as you touch it. 

You look for Caleb’s face unthinkingly. Kind and warm, eyes crinkled and shoulders slack in relief when he sees your happy reaction. His hand is warm as it rests on your head, rubbing gently. 

“It took a while but I’ve been helping our neighbors for money so I could buy it for you,” Caleb says, looking down at you with an easy grin. “The day you were born is important for me, so don’t say that you won’t celebrate it from now on. Okay?” 

When tears well up in your eyes, you barely have to say a word before Caleb brings you into his waist. You cry to him the same way you always do - with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt like you’re terrified of where you’d end up if you let go.

Even when you ruin his shirt with salty tears, Caleb never voices a word of complaint. His steady heartbeat and warm hands that make you feel like he’s already done it all before, stay exactly where you expect them. 

Your dependable, kind older brother. 

__ 

At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight. 

It takes a tremendous amount of effort to make it happen. 

Grandma was easy to convince, but it took you fourteen whole days to convince your brother that you could handle going on a school field trip without having your hand held the entire time. 

(You can still hear the amused, taunting lilt in his voice from when you first mentioned it. Sure you’ll be okay pipsqueak? My bed won’t be there for you to take over if you get scared, you know?)

Ugh. He can be so strict. An you swear he was even more stubborn about it than usual. 

You had to use every tactic in the book to get him to say yes. Kissing up to him, acting extra wistful, doing your chores and being super well-behaved. After strategically buttering him up for two weeks prior to you just asking, you also made sure to ask when he had one of his friends over. He’s strict regardless of who's around, but having another person in your corner is good for morale. 

(This method is effective for the record. Just as Caleb goes to turn you down, his friend throws an eraser at him and clicks his teeth. 

“There’s a limit to your siscon behavior. Just let her go.”

You sneak said friend a candy the next time he comes over as thanks.) 

After a lot of persistent begging, Caleb relents and allows Grandma to sign your permission slip. It’s an overnight trip sure—but it’s heavily supervised and rooms are separated by gender anyhow. You really don’t know what he was so worried about.

So far, the trip has been really fun. You went to a butterfly garden conservatory as a part of your science project and one landed on your nose. Your friend even managed to get a good picture. In the afternoon, you did a bit of sightseeing and got to buy some street food. 

When evening rolled around, you and all your friends holed up in the same hotel room sleeping together on one big floor. You stayed up a few hours later than you should’ve—gossiping and discussing the newest chapter of a very popular romance webnovel.  Most of them are out by the time the clock hits midnight. 

And now, you’re the last one awake at 1am. 

Unfortunately, no matter how long you try to sleep—it is hard to sleep away from home, knowing Caleb isn’t right down the hall. No matter how much the thought makes you frown. 

You’ve outgrown the habit of crawling into his bed every night. Still, you think you rest easier knowing that he’s there. You’d never admit it but subconsciously, it comforts you just knowing he is. The few times you get nightmares of the Chronorift these days, your nightmares are especially persistent. You don’t crawl into his bed like you did when you were a little kid as often as you used to. Even when you want it, it’s just a little embarrassing. 

Regardless though, he’ll stay up with you until it passes, and until you go back to to sleep. It’s the only thing that helps it go down easier some nights. That he’d be there no matter what happened. 

By the time the clock strikes one-thirty, you get the feeling you just won’t be able to sleep unless you at least call him. 

So, after carefully sneaking your phone out of your bag - you leave your hotel room to wander the halls and end up in the lobby in your PJs. 

You realize your incidental act of rebellion when you catch some stares from late-night guests. You hesitate on whether or not you should go back before deciding that’d be pointless. Fingers hovering over the call button, it takes a beat before you hit and hear the number dial. He’ll probably scold you but you know he’ll answer. 

He picks up in one ring. His voice is thick with sleep when he speaks. “It’s late. You should be asleep.” 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Gege,” You say, crossing slippered feet against the tile of the hotel lobby floor. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?” 

You shake your head before realizing he can’t see you. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “I thought I would sleep better if…I talked to…someone.” 

It’s too embarrassing to tell him you wanted to talk to him, specifically. Caleb is quiet on the other side of the line before he laughs, just a little. “You were so adamant on wanting to go with your friends, huh? I thought you’d be just fine. Were you being brave for show?.” 

You frown a little, groaning. “I did have fun. A lot of fun. We talked a lot before bed too, and now everyone else is asleep. It’s not like I regret going. And I wasn’t being brave, I was just—” 

“Sure, sure. Still can’t sleep unless you know I’m there, huh?” 

Silence stretches over the line. You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stretch your legs out, chin tucked against your chest.  

“Maybe I should just hang up on you,” 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Caleb says more gently. “You can call me as much as you want.” 

“You’re being nice like when we were kids.” You observe. 

Caleb scoffs a little. “I’m always nice.” 

You roll your eyes and Caleb laughs like he knows you did it. It’s quiet again before he speaks. In the voice that makes him feel older than he is. “I’m worried about you so I’m being even nicer than usual. Is that okay?”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s more to it than he lets on. You trace a pattern into the worn, fabric arm of the chair you sit in. “Why?” 

“I get worried when you go somewhere I can’t see you.” He says agreeably.

Your face tugs into a frown, strangely mortified by the sincerity of it. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.”

Caleb laughs. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a kid.” 

You huff. “That’s not fair. Does that mean I’ll have to beg you like this to do anything for the rest of my life? You’re too much.” 

“At least until you turn eighteen.” Caleb replies, voice airy and content. “And if you’re still a little weakling then, probably a few more years after that too.” 

You groan. “How terrible. What kind of brother are you? So cruel.” You pause  “You’re more like my dad sometimes.” 

“Since you’re my responsibility, I usually have to act as all three.” Caleb says with ease. “You should get used to it.” 

Despite your grievances, your body relaxes exactly the way you expect as you listen to him talk. You yawn out loud,  sleep making your eyes and limbs heavy. 

“Finally tired?” He asks, voice softened. Doting. It’s so instant, you don’t have the will to fight it. “Go sleep. Make sure you eat tomorrow morning and don’t just wait until noon.” 

“Okay, Gege.” You yawn again. “Goodnight. Love you,” 

A long silence stretches between you. You wonder why he hesitates. “Love you too. Now go to bed. And don’t sneak out without telling your teachers again,” 

“Wait, how did you—” 

“I know everything.” He says dismissively. “Goodnight, okay?” 

You pull back and stare at your phone. He’s a little scary sometimes.

 “Yeah. Okay. Night,” 

__ 

At sixteen, you go experience the first real heartbreak of your life. 

It’s less over the actual relationship and more about the events leading to your break-up. 

Your secret boyfriend of five months kissed one of your closest friends. And you caught them both red-handed. 

It was in the gymnasium after school a few weeks ago. You nearly fist fought them both before getting overwhelmed and simply  running away in tears to a nearby playground. Your two other best friends had to pry you out of a bed of mulch and take you home after wiping your tears. 

You have a list of grievances about the situation. You like (?) the guy but you loved your friend - but now you have neither. And all of it happened for a reason you cannot wrap your mind around at all. 

You’re thankful for your other friends who have taken your side in the matter while still trying to get to the bottom of it. And it’s good having them, but in your time of teenage angst - the one person you’d like to tell absolutely can’t know. 

Not telling your older brother is hard. Keeping the secret makes you feel guilty enough, but it’s made harder when he’s home. And he will be for the next two weeks until he has to go back to the dorms. They’re on some kind of spring break. 

Until then, you make it your mission to keep up appearances. Since the one person you don’t want to find out about your relationship is the person who’d find out the fastest. 

Caleb is strict. Has been for as long as you can remember. Though you’ve never explicitly spoken on dating - he has, more than once, “subtly” warned you about having an interest in the opposite sex. You remember how you made stupid heart-eyes to one of his school friends years back and he still brings it up whenever you ask about him and how he’s doing. As if even wanting to know is some kind of betrayal. 

(And well, maybe you do ask just to see him react like that. It’s…funny. It’s not like Caleb needs to know that.) 

You don’t like keeping secrets from your brother. You’re close. Way closer than most people ever are with their siblings. 

Maybe because Caleb has always taken care of you—he feels less like a sibling you can pointlessly squabble with and more like your guardian at times. 

It’s hard for you to lie to him explicitly so the fact you’ve kept the relationship under wraps for five months is kind of impressive. 

You always told yourself, you’d tell Caleb if it ever got serious. Truthfully though, you didn’t think it was going to last. Didn’t even want to accept until your friends pressured you. 

Your now ex-boyfriend is the one who asked you out, which is what pisses you off the most. He’s one of the popular guys in your grade and he’s…nice. Was nice. You don’t think you’d be sad if he simply broke up with you and went out with your friend. You’d think less of him maybe, but it’s not like you’re in love with him. 

It’s all the other stuff that’s weighing you down. It’s getting into a fight with your friend. It’s getting two-timed by the jackass who asked you out first. One you didn’t even like that much. 

(Maybe not at all.) 

It’s wanting to whine and complain about all of this to your older brother who would take your side but not being able to - because you can’t tell him half truths. You don’t have it in you. You barely have it in you to lie to him.

(Truthfully, you think the only reason you’ve been able to all this time is because you’ve kept said boyfriend at arms length somewhat knowingly. You haven’t had a proper kiss.)

Telling Caleb everything is a long time compulsion you don’t know if you’ll ever unlearn.You don’t know if it’s loyalty or gratitude—only that it makes you feel like a dog whose been leashed to a post for most of your life before it gets unchained. 

Even when you’re no longer shackled to it, you find you can’t go anywhere. Being without it doesn’t free you, not really. You find it goes against what you know to try to escape without hearing the click of metal. 

You stay by the post. You tell Caleb everything. It feels outright wrong to lie about something important. 

(And it’s still hard lying about something unimportant.) 

You’re sure it speaks to the depth of your attachment but you always end up spilling your guts to him. Like a child always wanting to please their parents and behave. You know Caleb will accept you, even if he gets angry. But you don’t actually know how he’ll react and that scares you into not wanting to tell him at all. 

The thought of disappointing him is what makes you most uneasy. 

So, you decide that you’ll take it to the grave. It’s your one half-ass rebellion and these are the natural consequences. As long as you process your friendship grief and wear out your anger - it’ll be smoothed over before you know. 

Meticulously, you time your sessions of grieving and angry debriefing phone calls in the hours Caleb is out of the house. You work hard at keeping up as if nothing is happening in your life at all. You feel an unshakeable feeling of guilt the entire time, one that has you waking up in cold sweat but you ignore it because… well, you don’t really know how to fix it. 

(Truthfully - you’re irrationally worried that he’d leave over something so trivial, and you’d be seven and all alone in the world again. As nonsensical as it is, and as much as you want to pretend otherwise, your attachment to Caleb really matters that much to you.) 

You very nearly make it to the finish line of this plan too. Almost. . 

In the middle of your crying session - you answer a knock on the door and assume it’s Granny (who does, at least partially, know what’s going on). You open it without thinking. 

It’s the last person you want to see in the moment. 

You quickly try to shut the door but Caleb is quicker. Slides his unnecessarily huge body through the small gap and shuts it behind him - trapping you both. You stumble back a little, but he catches you by the wrist to make sure you don’t actually fall. 

You feel like a deer in headlights. Red, water rimmed eyes, runny nose, and face puffy - you try to pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe your face. Even though he’s already seen it. You’re too old to be crying like this in front of him. It’s humiliating. 

Caleb grabs your wrists easily before you can wipe them away. You blink away a few unshed tears to get a better look at his face. You inhale, your chest tight - feet like lead as you look at your older brother. His pinched expression, almost pained but still tender. Still gentle. Just seeing it again makes you want to cry. 

“I knew it,” He says. He drops your hands and instead cups your face with his palm, thumb wiping away tears as he cups your cheek. His expression is firm. “What’s wrong, hm?”

It’s like something in you collapses. 

You give into it without any effort. 

Caleb makes it so easy, after all, to be the weakest version of yourself.

With him, there’s no desire to fight what feels inevitable. So you let yourself fall to nothing in Caleb’s arms and cry. You’re torn up over your first real friendship fight so you let yourself lean on him. Just like you do at seven, and ten, and all the years before. Fist your hand tight in the fabric of his shirt like you’re worried he’ll shake you off, even though he never does.) 

(Later, you’ll remember this conversation and realize that there was never any room for anyone else. It was a kind of teenage naivety to think otherwise. 

You’ll hear the sentiment from everyone you know—friends, colleagues, family: the person you can be weakest with is who you should marry. If only you had known that then, too. Maybe accepting it would’ve been easier. Maybe you would’ve known sooner what feeling you’d spend the rest of your adult life chasing) 

Caleb rests his hand on the back of your head as he tucks your face against his chest. It’s warm and soft. The comforting scent of detergent and cologne, undercut by oil and jetfuel. You wish you could bury yourself in.

You stand and cry like that in silence for a long while. Caleb holds you tight without asking any questions, his chin resting on top of your head, patting your back. 

When you pull away from him, ready to explain - he walks himself over to your bed and sits on it. His expression is unreadable. Concerned but trying not to worry too son. 

With his legs wide, he opens his arms out to you to invite you into his lap the way you did when you were kids. You wonder if he’s joking—trying to make you laugh and cheer you up. 

But in the moment you’re so fragile, you tuck your chin and sit anyway. He stiffens briefly, as if surprised but soon enough, strong arms lay drape your waist as he lets you lean into him.

“Ready to talk about it?” 

You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?” 

He shakes his. “I’m all yours.” 

Your chest feels warm and fluttery when he says it. It soothes you. . 

You sniffle, adjusting in his lap. “I’m sorry.” 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks. “You don’t have to,” 

“No, I—” You shift in his lap. “It feels wrong. Not telling you.”

Caleb hums. “You’re at that age. I already know that much. But no matter what I’m on your side, so don’t hide when you’re feeling sad or upset. Okay?” 

“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s really fine. It’s not like I can really be mad at you, right?” 

You make a small, thoughtful noise. “You say that but you’re unexpectedly good at holding grudges.” 

Caleb laughs. “Hm, that’s true. But not with you.” 

You repeat the words to yourself, half-dizzy with a smile. “Not with me.” 

Caleb smiles at you. He holds you a little tighter. You grab hold of his jacket, white knuckling the fabric until your heartbeat settles. 

“So. Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

__ 

( In the end, you tell Caleb everything from start to finish. 

It’s just as you predicted. Once you start, it’s hard to give him anything but the full truth. Caleb listens to you intently without interjecting. Rests his chin on your shoulders, leaving you with nothing but his body language to pick up on his moods. 

He stiffens when you tell him you had a boyfriend. Calms down when you tell him you didn’t like him very much, that all you did was hold hands and cuddle and you still think it was a waste. 

Caleb listens to it all. Hangs onto your every word until you’ve tuckered yourself out. You think of what they say about how a burden shared is a burden halved and hope that it’s fine to depend on him this much all these years later. 

Caleb is silent and steady for the duration of your talk. Towards the end he tells you: “No boy should ever make you cry. Should I get revenge for you?” 

“Gege,” You say exasperated “And what about boys making me cry? That’s all they do from what I can tell.”

He doesn’t refute that. “ That’s true. It’s better to avoid them, really. If I ever make you cry you though, you can hit me,” He replies. You laugh a little.

“I don’t think you would make me cry without good reason.” 

“If I do, I’ll make sure to repent for my whole life after.” He says, joking. Maybe joking. 

Your cheeks warm  “Your whole life feels like a long time.” 

“Is it? You can’t really get rid of me easily, so I think it makes sense.” 

“I guess that’s true. You can’t get rid of me either, you know.” 

Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”) 

__

At nineteen, you go to a club in the Linkon entertainment district for the very first time. 

Your friends dragged you here. It’s your first year of the Hunter Academy and your first time living away from home. You’ve spent most of the school year completely focused on training and working towards your goals - trying to  be strong enough to work alongside a certain someone and hold your own. 

You’re not here of your own volition, but honestly? It’s not so bad. Drinking and dancing with your friends proves fun for the first couple of hours at least. 

After that gets old though, really more stressful than anything. 

You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. That’s the main cause of your current unease. The club is 21+ and it was already an ordeal getting in. The longer you stay, the more restless you feel—the more you want to leave before anyone gets caught up in anything. 

You’ve been knocking back drinks all evening, courtesy of some of your friends - and the night is starting to come to a halt for you internally. All the discomfort and overstimulation go from engaging to overwhelming, and your head is starting to spin.

You’re in the section where you and your friends got invited. Apparently there’s someone tonight who's popular in the nightlife scene - son of some rich business man you think. Your friend has been doing you all the solid of keeping him happy. Your eyes flit over to where they dance on the floor and you feel yourself wince just looking at them. 

Shit, your head is throbbing. 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sink back in your seat and think about what the best strategy is to get out of here. 

All of you should go home honestly. There won’t be major consequences for simply being intoxicated, but sneaking into an establishment like this really might affect your ability to graduate. Your academy is not known for its leniency. 

Aside from that, you’re tired. You should have more energy than this. You would normally, you think. But it’s a Friday and you had taken up some extra training since you had no plans to be out. The addition of alcohol dehydrating you and the sharp and particular pain from stiletto heels makes you lethargic. Dead on your feet. 

It’s later in the night but not so late people are leaving. A second wave of attendees are shuffling in now. You have half a mind to mix with the crowd and leave by yourself. It feels like a good idea at least. 

But then, more people are brought to your section. You’re only half-paying attention as the guy from earlier, the one paying for you all, happily introduces the new group to people already sitting. 

“...And Caleb, it’s good to see you. You’re usually too busy to come to things like this,” 

A pair of eyes bore into you. You freeze completely, eyes glued to your phone screen as you catch a glimpse of the one person you absolutely do not want to be meeting here. 

“Yeah,” A familiar voice says. His voice is light like he’s not noticed anything.”I’m glad I came. I’ve already seen some interesting things.” 

The dull throb in your head turns the corner to a sharp pain. A feeling of complete misery washes over you. Truly, the worst possible outcome. You wonder what Caleb is doing here in the first place. From what you know, this isn’t usually his kind of establishment either. Maybe someone from his dorms dragged him here too? You think it’d be something like that. 

You make the mistake of looking up as Caleb slides in opposite to you with a few other friends. His expression is completely unreadable as your eyes meet across the table. He flashes you a smile that makes your nerves stand on end. All you can do is look away, eyes flitting back down your phone. 

A text appears at the top of your screen. 

from cpt big bro (1:03am): nice to see you. 

A feeling of unease immediately feels you, but when you look back up at Caleb - he’s pretending like you don’t even exist.

You don’t know why you feel so guilty in the first place. Sure, you snuck in here but it’s not like you did something unheard of. And you’re past the legal drinking age in the first place. And the clothes weren’t your idea. You’ll tell him that when he inevitably asks. 

You’re not doing anything so wrong but you’re worried he’ll get the wrong idea. 

(A voice in your head asks: what idea? You tell yourself it’d be embarrassing if your brother thought you were looking for a hook-up. It’s reasonable enough.

 You decide not to interrogate the reasoning any further, even when the feeling doesn’t go away.)

You find your gaze falling in your lap as you try to dissolve the overwhelming feeling of shame and upset just knowing Caleb’s seen you like this. 

It’s worse though to have him ignoring you. You know he’s probably doing it for your sake. Even knowing he’s not malicious doesn’t make it much better. Your eyes stay glued to your phone screen. 

You don’t know how much time passes before someone else joins you at the table. 

A woman this time. 

“Caleb! You actually came,” She says over the music. You watch her from your peripherals as she slides in next to him without hesitation. “I thought Kenji was lying to get more girls to show up.” 

You hear him laugh a little. You think he sounds a little uncomfortable, but maybe you’re reading too much into it. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Isn’t that always how that goes?” She hums. Your eyes widen slightly seeing the way she presses herself up against his arm. “But I’m glad you're here. Maybe I can convince you to dance.” 

“You can try,” He says. You know he’s just being amiable. Or at least, you think he’s just trying to be amiable. 

You’ve never really seen Caleb flirt with a girl, so you don’t have a real reference for what does and does not count. 

It’s the first time in all of your life you’ve ever seen Caleb get hit on so closely. You’re used to his popularity of course - but back then, Caleb usually made a point to run away. No one ever got near enough. He’s always been nice about it of course, tries to let people down easy. 

You don’t know the girl who's flirting with him now, but you can tell that they know each other. They’re sitting close, but not enough to be obvious. You can hear them too, though. Hear how she talks to him. It’s not hard to tell that she’s hitting on him. And your brother isn’t reciprocating but he’s not quite turning her down. It doesn’t seem to bother him, enough that when he makes jokes playfully rejecting her - the conversation still doesn’t sour.

They get along, is what you mean. Better than you thought they would. 

Your stomach churns. 

You try not to think about whats making you sick.  But it washes over you all at once. More dizzy  than nauseous. You feel like someone is tying your insides into a coil. The more you try to divert your gaze - the harder it is to ignore it. Caleb glances at you from time to time, but it seems accidental at best. 

Your heart is hammering. You think about how long it’s been since you’ve last seen each other. All the things that have happened while you’re apart. 

When you find you can’t sit and handle anymore, your body makes the decision to leave for you. 

It happens quickly. You stand to your feet, nearly stumbling in your heels as you talk to a friend on the dance floor and make-up a nonsense excuse about needing to leave. She offers to call you a taxi, but by then you’re already making a bee-line to the door and out of the club. 

It’s late when you leave. Your whole body feels like it’s trapped in ice as the unforgiving night air whips your skin and leaves you cold. You stumble down the steps in your heels until you finally make it onto the curb with all the other drunk club-goers trying to get home or sober up.

You’ll flag down a taxi, go home, and pretend nothing happened. You repeat the routine to yourself over and over. 

It feels like the only way you can handle it. Your mind can't process it otherwise. Can’t think too hard on what you might’ve been privy too. 

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” 

You freeze when you hear Caleb’s voice. You have half a mind to break into a sprint but you aren’t sure you can without breaking your ankles with your heels. Another part of you is preening over the fact he came immediately to find you. You turn around and try to walk away briskly - only to feel a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you towards him and making you come to a halt. 

“Let me go,” You mumble. 

He holds you a little tighter. 

“Don’t be like that. No matter how much training you have, I know you can’t run in heels so quit it,” Caleb says, with a sigh. “Why’d you run off?” 

“What do you mean why?” You say, words slurring. “Who’d wanna see—hicc—” 

Caleb frowns at you. “Why’re you trying to be tough if you can barely keep yourself standing up straight?” 

He sighs, bending down. You let out a noise as he undoes the strap of your heel. 

“Take them off,” 

You pout. “How am I supposed to walk home like that?” 

“I’ll carry you on my back,” He replies. “Your ankles with have a hard time if you keep wobbling like that,” 

“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.” 

You’re being difficult on purpose. Drunk and upset, arguing with anything he says. Caleb knows this you’re sure but he doesn’t seem to have a reaction to it besides mild exasperation. Despite that though, he still tends to you. 

He makes a face at you before sighing. You watch as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it over you. It’s oversized on him, even more so on you.  It fits more like a dress and covers more than your outfit does. 

When you’ve slipped your arms through it, he drops down onto his knees and undoes the other strap of your heel. He turns around after that, signalling for you to get on his back. You want to refuse him but you find you don’t have the words to do so. You comply with his request, putting your arms around his neck as he lifts you with frightening ease. 

He bends down with you on his back to pick your heels up and carry them.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” You mumble. Caleb sighs. It makes you bite your lip. 

“It can wait a bit.”  

“Hmph.”

You find you have nothing left to argue with him. You give up on trying to refuse and let him carry you, both hands lifting you up as you keep your arms around his neck. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, worried your makeup will smear on it. 

You don’t know how long you walk. Your eyes are closed for the duration of it and you only open them again when you sense a change of lighting. The noise of an automatic door and a tired greeting alarms you. You feel embarrassed, suddenly, at the idea that someone else has seen you like this. 

Caleb just greets them as normal.

“Aren’t you gonna let me down already?” 

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” 

“No, but—”

He doesn’t respond to you further. You get the impression there’s not much meaning to continue arguing so you keep quiet. 

You watch from over his shoulder as he roams the aisles until he comes across cheap pairs of slippers and socks - next to other random household items. He picks the correct size without asking you. Seeing it only adds to the strange feeling you’ve had since leaving the club. 

He goes to self check-out, pays for the sandals, then carries you to one of the few seats and table near the window of the 7/11. Carefully, he sets you down on one, your heels on another, then silently opens the packaging. He drops to his knees and looks up at you in silent question. 

“You don’t need to—” 

He doesn’t say anything when you attempt to refuse him. Keeps quiet  and just waits for you, not unkindly. You frown and hold your foot out to him. He rolls each sock carefully onto your feet, pulling them all the way up over your ankle before the slippers follow. 

“Do they fit okay?”

“Mm,” 

You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out. 

“C’mon. Pick out something to eat or drink so you sober up a bit,” 

“While we talk?” You ask, voice suddenly small. He pauses, smiles just barely, and pats your head with the same firm hand he always does. It makes you want to cry. 

“Yeah. While we talk.” 

You nod as Caleb helps you off the seat. “I’ll go get some water.” 

“Okay,” 

You think of what you want to eat. Childhood memories whisper answers to you. Chips and candy - sweet and salty so you have balance. You remember the way Caleb would cut into his own snack budget for you to get what you wanted. He’d pretend to complain, but he’d smile at you while you ate. 

You pick the same things you used to. You wonder if he’ll notice. 

He returns with two bottles of water. “Did you finish choosing?” 

You nod. His eyes drift to your hands. He cracks another smile that makes you happier then it should.

“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?” 

Your heart flutters. You follow him quietly. He goes to the cashier the second time around - amiable, friendly and easing some unspoken tension. Apologizes for the inconvenience and, with familiar diligence, asks if there’s a recycling bin for him to toss trash nearby. The cashier offers to do it for him. 

Afterwards, he holds his hand out to you like it’s only natural for you to want to hold it. You take it. 

Of course, you do. 

He guides you outside, and the two of you sit on the curb. An expectant look appears on his face when he dusts off place beside him where he’s hoping you’ll sit. You do, knees touching -  folding your hands into your lap. He opens the bottle of water and hands it to you. 

“We could’ve just shared one,” You offer.

“I’m not so stingy,” Caleb says.. You purse your lips. You want to tell him that’s not what you mean, but you don’t want to ask yourself what you do mean. 

You take it from him and drink. 

Silence stretches over the seemingly endless night. The streets of Linkon prove to be busy and limitless. Given the district you’re in, you’d expect it to be more packed - but the streets are desolate. Proof of life resides in the lights of buildings and clubs but now, here—it feels like you’re the only two people left in the world. 

It’s quiet for a long while. You sit like that until you break the ice. 

“You still haven’t asked me anything.” 

“Well,” Caleb looks at you from the corner of his eyes and shrugs, taking a drink. “I can kind of guess why you were there in the first place. Don’t have much of a clubbing spirit, you know. Your friends probably told you to go right?” 

You nod.“You’re not upset?” 

“Mm,” Caleb sighs. “Not at you for just going. It’s hard to be mad at you especially when you…” He trails off, an almost imperceptible smile on his. He shakes his head before continuing and you miss the window to ask about what that was all about. He glances at you again. “Your dress is too short, though.” 

You feel heat crawl up your skin. “It’s not that bad. And I’m nineteen,” 

“So? You’re still my baby sister. Naturally I won’t approve, right? You know that much.”

You bend over your knees, pouting. You feel weirdly happy but try not to think about it. “You’re so unreasonable sometimes.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I’m being very reasonable right now,” 

“...Mm.” 

Tension lingers in the air. You open the chips Caleb got you and tilt it his way. A peace offering. He takes one. 

“Why’d you run off?” 

You make a face. Will yourself to not cry as you tuck your chin. 

“...I dunno.” 

He glances at you. You miss the knowing expression on his face. “Even if you were doing a good job of lying, you know that wouldn’t work on me right? Did something happen? Something you can’t tell me?” 

“Nothing happened but you—”

Caleb interjects. “Me? So it’s because of me then.” 

You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought. 

“I didn’t mean to ruin your night showing up. Didn’t know you’d even be there. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” Caleb starts. 

“It’s not that,” You say quickly. The frustration just thinking about it makes your throat well up. You can feel it. You drink water trying to wash it down. 

“Then?” 

It slips out of you, exasperated as you sit up and turn to look up at him. 

“You were ignoring me,” You say, voice wet and shaky - hands fisted at your knees, shoulders tight. You still haven’t sobered up much. Your lips curl into a frown. Caleb is stunned into silence. “You didn’t even… I thought you were mad at me. And then that girl sitting next to you was—”

You stop yourself. Caleb looks at you wide-eyed. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again soon after. He processes what you’ve said slowly, though he doesn’t seem surprised by all of it. 

“I wasn’t mad at you. Surprised, but not so mad. Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t ignore you. It’d make more sense for me to drag you out myself, don’t you think?” 

You huff. “It felt like you were mad at me. And—”

You want to ask. Who was she? Why was she so close to you? Why didn’t you push her away? Do you like her? 

Nothing comes out right. You bite your lip. “That girl… was she your friend?” 

Caleb stops. He looks awkward all of a sudden. “Huh? No, no. She’s my senior. She has someone else she likes,” 

“She was hitting on you,” You say bluntly, sticking your feet out. “And you didn’t stop her.” 

For a brief moment, you swear he looks amused. His expression settles again quickly. “I know she’s not being serious so I didn’t feel like there was any point causing a rift.” 

“She’ll get the wrong idea. If you don’t turn her down properly and just let her—” Be all over you. Touch you so close. Get in your space. “...flirt with you.” 

A beat. “You think I should turn her down properly then?” 

It hangs in the air. You want me to turn her down?

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yeah.” 

“Will it make you feel better?” 

Your eyes meet. For a brief second you feel like someone has stolen all the air from your lungs in one go. You look down. 

“Yeah,” 

Caleb’s breath hitches just a touch before he speaks. “Okay.” 

He opens his arm up to invite you closer and slot into his side the way you used to. Blinking wetly, you scoot across the concrete and tuck yourself under the safety of his arm. Your face is close to his chest. He smells like cologne and iit makes your heart beat feel erratic. His hand comes up to stroke your head and you let him soothe you like you have so many times before. 

“No matter what happens, there’s nothing you could do or say that’d make me angry enough to ignore you. I’d never ignore you if I didn’t think you wanted me to,” 

“I never want you to ignore me, ever.” You say immediately. “Never ever.” 

He chuckles. The way it reverbs in your body makes you dizzy. “Okay, princess. Noted. Do you wanna sit a little longer or should I call a car for you?” 

You tuck into his side. It’d be nice if you never had to leave him ever again. Pressing into him, your words muffle in the fabric of his shirt. You tug at the hem. 

“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.” 

He hesitates above you. But a while later, you feel his lips at the crown of your head - right at your hairline. His voice is gentle. “Sure. As long as you want,” 

__

At twenty-two, you often dream of your older brother. 

At first, it’s grief. Caleb dies not long after your birthday and in the months that pass - the warm memories of your childhood seem to follow you into sleep. Some nights, it feels kind to see him. In your dream, you run into his arms and he holds you tight when you tell him you missed him.

Grief holds the rest of you hostage. You want for nothing and think of nothing except your brother. You miss Grandma too, of course you do. 

But there’s nothing in the entire world like a brother. Like your brother—who you could ask anything of. It’s hard to unpack the loneliness you feel. Hard to explain it to other people. 

In the months you correct yourself from saying have to had—and watch peoples eyes change into one of sorrow and pity. At the worst of it, you can’t even pretend to think of that as a kindness. Can’t even thank them for being nice. At the worst of your grief, you find yourself especially angry at being pitied. You look at people and want to say they don’t understand. They don’t know what you lost. There are no words that make it digestible. You bite your tongue, give a tight-lipped smile. 

What you wanted to say was this: How dare you act like you understand what I lost? How dare you feel sorry when you don’t know the half of it? My brother is dead. A piece of me is missing.

You never say any of it. You bury the words in the black vast of your grief and throw yourself at finding answers. 

Your feelings about the incident change the more you find out. About Grandma and the abomination in your heart—and you cycle from anger to sorrow to unease.

They never change about Caleb though. The apparition of him, warm and broad, cycles through your dreams every now and again. Some nights, you wake up expecting to be seven years old again—clinging to your older brother, the only thing you know in the world that’s made you lose everything. 

Most nights, you wake up from dreamless sleep and feel yourself wanting to cry. 

(You don’t cry often when he’s gone, even when you should. 

Who would be there to hold you now when you do?) 

When you finally see Caleb again, see him alive—your emotions become just as complicated as your mind has been in the months of his absence. 

You’re ecstatic, you’re angry, you’re terrified, you’re so so sad. You are all of these things at the same time. 

And then, you realize that the death of Caleb did not only change you. Your older brother comes back to you. He’s warm, kind, and gentle sometimes. But it’s not the same. There’s something about him, inexplicable, that is changed forever. 

Caleb dies and comes back wrong—but this only strengthens your resolve. To do what, exactly? You aren’t sure. You don’t know what you want and you still know nothing about the Aether Cores. Or about what Caleb does. 

All you do  know is that your older brother has come back to you, and you are empty without him. You’d rather have him wrong than not have him at all. You’ll fix him or become wrong with him before you ever let go of him again.

(Even the way he is now, sometimes, he seems worried about ruining you. You want to say sometimes—then ruin me. You know what he’d say if you did. He knows he’d tell you to watch your tongue and not to say what you don’t mean.

You’ve thought about it, though. You’d rather that then he disappear again. You’d rather you know what's going on then not. ) 

Things have changed. Caleb has changed.

You have changed, most of all. 

When you hear from Caleb for the first time he no longer wants to be your brother - that he’s tired from playing house with you, your first reaction is devastation. The memory of that dread is so strong, you still feel it when you replay it all in your mind. Caleb above you, caging you in, unreadable—no longer what you know. 

You don’t think about anything. You can’t. It destroys you completely to hear him say it. Makes you want to cling to him and beg. Cry loudly enough to wake the version of him that did want to be your brother. That loved you unconditionally. 

When you have to go the next morning and find a memory of your childhood tucked away - you realize not all of him is lost to you. That the parts of him you loved so dearly have not entirely disappeared. 

So you stay, and try to mend the broken pieces of your relationship back together.

At twenty-two, you often dream of your brother. 

When he comes back to you, you think you’ll be given one more dream before he disappears. You figure the real thing is back in your hands. It’ll go back to the way it was before, where your sleep is long and dreamless but that’s fine. As long as you can wake-up and see the sun, without feeling like yours was stolen from you—anything is fine. 

At twenty-two, even after you learn he’s alive, you often dream of your brother. 

The first time you ever have a wet dream of Caleb is just after he comes back to Linkon. 

After you sit in the garden with Caleb and blow the hydrangea petals away from his face, and his hand comes up to touch you. After he promises to take good care of the flower he takes back to SkyHaven. After he tells you there was no way he’d be able to stay away from you. 

When you sleep the night after he returns home, you dream of Caleb again. 

This time you’re in your bedroom—the one from your childhood home, that Caleb spent so many years taking up space in. You dream of your brother on top of you and you both look a little younger. His face contorted with pleasure, and your hand being the one to give it to him. The image missing from the waist down, all you can see is the clear view of him over you. Making it so obvious what you’re doing. Doing together.  

You wake up from your dream with a feeling like something’s crushing your chest. A wheezing breath as you struggle to calm down. A distinct feeling of wetness between your legs that cling to your PJs when you stumble into your bathroom - trying to relieve yourself and being confronted with the reality of what just happened. 

The first time you have a wet dream about Caleb—you only feel shame. You tell yourself that it’s a fluke, and that dreams are meaningless anyway. It makes you violated to think of him like that. You can’t control what you do in your sleep. You decide not to dwell. 

Weeks pass and you see Caleb again. You share fruit and more conversation, and the following night - you have another wet dream. This one, more vivid than the last. Different. You dream of Caleb with a baton to your neck and the tension in the room when he caged you in his arms. In your dreams he’s cruel as he drags the metal end down your body, pushes it against your—

You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable. 

The cycle repeats for as long as you see him. Every time Caleb appears in your life, you dream of him the next night. You wake up in shock, wet down your legs and spend all morning trying to suppress it down as far as you can. 

You tell yourself all sorts of things when it happens. You reason with yourself. Dreams are nonsense. You can’t control them. It’s your brother. You don’t think of him like that.

(You think of all the times you’ve seen him since he’s returned. All the ways his eyes soften for you, all the ways his hands linger—how ever since he’s denied being your brother at all, you think of what that might make you now. 

It breaks your heart to not have him as your brother. Your precious family. An unbreakable bond. The one you love most. He touches you the way brothers aren’t supposed to, and you remind yourself of what you can’t have. You remind yourself of what loss you would feel first.

He always looks pained when he touches you like that, though. And, for some strange reason, sometimes you want to tell him: Did you know I dreamt of you touching me? So you don’t need to make that face. Like you’re wrong. My dreams couldn’t make you this gentle.)

The harder you try to force it down, the harder it is to pretend it’s nothing. You push and push and push—but each time you see him, the cycle repeats.

Eventually, it’s too hard to pretend. You refuse to name it, or think about it—but when you let your mind stop forcing it so deep into your subconscious, it’s easier to reconcile. 

It doesn’t go away. But your skin prickles with embarrassment, and you sigh, and you move on from it. Even if the dreams don’t stop, you can go on about your day when you leave it all alone.

You think maybe, if you and Caleb never saw each other again, it might even work to rid you of the dreams completely.

But he’s your brother—your precious family, the one you love most. You see him all the time. Whenever your schedule allows it, he’s the first person you check with to see if you can come spend time with him. Even if he can’t be with you, you stay over at his place to eat his food and watch TV on his expensive flatscreen. 

It makes you feel like you live together again. 

(You try not to reel at the thought. It’s normal for siblings to stay together from time to time. It’s like a sleep over. That’s all.) 

So it’s not unusual for you anymore to drop by his place. You even have a key. 

(Your key, you think. Caleb put a stupid green apple cover on the top part of it. It’s for you, and only you.) 

Even when you do come over, sometimes you only see him at night. You have little conversations before you need to go to sleep (or rather, when he makes you go to sleep.) But it still feels better than only seeing him sometimes. 

So it’s not unusual for you to be here in your PJs and watching something stupid while draped on Caleb’s couch. 

It is unusual, however, to have him come home so soon.

PART TWO: SO ONLY SAY MY NAME, IT WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

You pick your head up as soon as you hear the security system for Caleb’s apartment announce someone at the door. The time reads 6:56pm.

Heavy footfall makes you pick yourself up, crawling to the edge of the couch and standing on your knees to catch sight of him. You lean forward. 

“You’re home early.”

It takes him a second to register who's talking, but he smiles slightly when he does. Turnt towards the doors, he’s leaned against a wall as he undoes the laces of his steel-toed boots. 

“So are you,”

You give him a melodic hum. “I got off since we have a holiday. I have Monday off too.” 

“Yeah? That’s good. You should try to rest up some,” 

“I will. Gotta catch up on my shows first though,” You reply thoughtfully. “I’m like half-way through ‘em.” 

“Workin’ hard I see. Try not to over-exert yourself.” He adds, playfully sarcastic. You nod. 

You answer him in silly earnest. “Of course. I’m more relaxed here so don’t worry.” 

He pauses as he finally stands back up. You see him at the other side of the room with a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

You feel something in your stomach that you choose to ignore. “Yeah. Plus I don’t have to eat my own groceries.” 

“It’s better you eat mine than me wasting them,” He says with a shrug. 

“How generous of you.” 

“Right?” 

You lean forward, resting more of your weight on the couch. “Did they just send you home early too? Or is it some special Colonel privilege?” 

You see him shake his head as he slides off his coat and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a plastic bottle of water out of it before taking a few long drinks. 

“Mm, kinda the first.” He says thoughtfully. “I got injured in the field today, had to go to the infirmary. It’s a minor injury but I checked in with my commanding officer and he told me I might as well go home.” 

You frown. “What kind of injury?” 

“It’s really fine,”

“Caleb.” 

He sighs, turning towards you. The open fridge door illuminates him. “Just got a bruise along my thigh from how I fell. Nothing broken.” He says. You’re still frowning at him. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“How can you be fine if they sent you home?” 

“It’s not like that,” 

“I don’t believe you,” You say petulantly. Caleb shuts the fridge door with his hip as he laughs. 

“What, you want me to show it to you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s on my thigh. I’d have to take off my pants,” He says, laughing. He joins you on the couch - sitting where you were laying—eyeing you while he waits for you to come join him. You narrow your eyes suspiciously but crawl over to him anyway, sitting beside him with your legs up. “Unless you’re really just wanting me to strip, promise it’s fine. I’ve had it worse,”

“That’s not a good thing. If it were me you’d be freaking out already and fussing over me.” 

“It’s different,” 

“Is not,” 

“Is too. My little sisters still a bit of weakling, see—if I don’t take good care of her she’ll end up hurting herself even worse,” Caleb says, voice high. 

“I’m not even weak. Maybe not as strong as you but not weak.” 

“When you get stronger than me, we can talk about who gets to worry about who,”  He says, flicking your forehead lightly. You pretend to flinch at the injury. 

“You let me do whatever I want except worry about you.” 

“You got it. Glad you’re getting up to speed.” 

You elbow him. Caleb laughs. 

You sit back with your knees to your chest, frowning. Caleb leans back, arm stretched on the back of the couch. Inching closer to him subconsciously, your brow furrows as you think about his injury. 

It’s like he reads your mind.

“You’re really worried about it.” He murmurs.

You purse your lips. “No shit.” 

“Don’t cuss,” 

“I’m twenty-two!” 

“So?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.” 

“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”

You glare at him. “I’ll make sure to wait until you’re fully recovered so it counts,” 

He relaxes into the couch, eyes filled with mirth. “Smart move.” 

“You’re still in your outside clothes. Don’t you want to wash up first?” 

“Do I smell bad?” 

“No, that’s not it. But if you get too comfortable, you might not want to get up to do it, you know?” 

“I’m not like a certain someone, so I’m not worried about that.” Caleb says. You huff as he continues on. “I just wanted to sit with you for a bit first. Is that not okay?” 

“I didn’t say all of that. Don’t put words in my mouth, jeez.” 

He hums. “Just checking,” 

Comfortable quiet  settles between you as Caleb sits and watches your drama with you intently.

You relax further into the couch as you settle back in, once again engrossed in your show. It’s a period and fantasy drama about a once noble woman getting married against her will to a supposedly cruel emperor. Crude description aside, it has high political stakes, violence, and good writing. 

The romance aspect of the show was what drew you in more-or-less, but it’s a slowburn between the main couple. You’ve mostly been watching for the high-tension plot. It captures both your attention and seemingly Caleb’s too. 

“Wait,” Caleb interrupts half-way through an episode. “I want to watch the rest with you but I need to shower,” 

You smile at him. “It’s good right? It’s not a lot of romance but there’s other stuff. We can watch it together after you wash-up and maybe…we can have a drink together.” 

“You’re so interested in that,” 

“I want to know what kind of drunk you are. It’s not fair you’ve seen me drunk and I haven’t,” 

“Pfft,” He rubs your head with hand, amused. “What kind of reason is that? But you know what? Sure. Order whatever you want with my card while I go shower.” 

“Yay!” 

You pause the TV as Caleb stands up and stretches, fishing for his wallet and passing you his card. Snatching it from between his fingers, you give him a mischievous look that makes him laugh. 

“Go shower,” 

“I am, I am,” He holds his hands up. “I’ll be quick,” 

__

You watch your drama late into the evening. 

You drink casually with Caleb as you binge watch the final few episodes of the season you started on. You take a break later in the night to have dinner delivered to you, but afterwards - you decide to keep watching. 

Caleb wasn’t lying when he told you he holds his drink well. You’ve both been knocking them back since eight pm. Even with the time to sober up in between, he seems like he hasn’t had a single thing to drink the entire time. 

You feel far from wasted, a warm meal in your stomach settling some of inebriation - but you still feel somewhat tipsy. At least enough to have that pleasant, warm, loose-limbed buzzed. You’re sober enough that Caleb doesn’t get on your case about drinking enough water - though you sure it’ll be a different story in another hour or two if it keeps going. 

Half-past midnight - you’re two episodes deep into the third season of your drama. 

Relaxed, you’re half-way draped on Caleb - legs in hips lap and nursing another cheap can of beer. After several episodes of action and violence - the story is starting to get back to the romance aspect for the main couple. 

Maybe it’s your fault for not thinking it through, but you’re really not expecting a graphic sex scene to play so soon after so much high plot. 

In the first place, it doesn’t start out like a sex scene. The main character went to go visit her injured husband after he returned from battle. Sweet, you thought. Maybe you’d get to see them have some intense, longing eye-contact like they’ve been having for a while now. 

You aren’t sure when exactly it takes a left turn. You’re tipsy and comfortable and warm. On your phone looking things up on social media. 

They kiss once, then twice before a breathy moan cuts through the comfortable.  

Before you can scramble to find the remote and scrub through it, the scene changes instantly in temperature. A few tepid kisses rapidly go from chaste to deep, all tongue and teeth. 

Near full blown nudity flashes across your T.V. screen as a strange heat creeps up your neck. You feel like you’ve had enough mental torment when you see the male lead kiss his way down the female leads neck. It’s more uncensored then you thought. 

Your voice is trembling a little. “We should uhm,” You swallow thickly. “Where’s the remote..?” 

Caleb feels a little… different. He seems startled hearing you speak, looking at you with lidded eyes. “Not sure. Think you had it last,”

“Oh, right. I don’t,” Another moan rips through the tension between you. It takes your full body effort not to jump. “....really remember where I put it,” 

“You want me to help you look?” 

You blink at him. “I mean… we should, probably look for it. Since, uhm… you know.” 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Caleb interrogates. You stare at him. 

“You aren’t?” 

Caleb is quiet for a long time, like he’s thinking hard about the answer. 

“I feel fine,” Is what he says after what feels like forever. 

“You feel… fine.” 

He nods without looking at you. “We can skip it if you want. Probably have to get up to find the remote, though.”

You sink back in the couch, your face feeling warm. “It’s fine, then.” 

You’re a little startled as the couple on T.V starts to really have sex - at least more than foreplay. It’s not full frontal, but the sounds and angles are enough to get the point across. Caleb just… watches. Relaxed.

“You sure?” He offers, glancing at you again. “It’s fine if it’s too much for you,” 

Frowning, you sit up slightly. “What do you mean too much for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re saying it like you’re used to it,” 

Caleb gives you another glance. Assess you once or twice before looking back at the T.V. 

“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?” 

You find yourself at a loss for words. Is he used to this? That can’t be the case, right? 

“You never dated anyone when we were growing up.” 

Caleb nods. “You don’t really need to date someone for something like that, though it’s better that way.” 

You find yourself shocked by his answer. He’s changed a lot, you know that but—

But it feels wrong. You can’t imagine him just hooking up with someone and having a one-night stand. He’d only ever do it with a girlfriend. So if he has any experience, it’d have to be with someone like that. 

He smiles at you. “You’re making a scary face.” 

You look up at him, unsure of what face you should be making. The question slips out before you can stop to think about whether or not you should even ask it. 

“So are you… used to it?” 

He pauses before leaning in. “This is the second time you’ve asked,” 

“That’s…” 

“I don’t think it’s the kind of thing someone’s little sister should ask their older brother right?” 

You snap your mouth shut. Caleb leans a little closer. “Right?” 

“You’re not answering,” You whisper. Your foreheads touch.

“Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?” Caleb says. 

Your eyes widen, teeth pressing against your lip as you tear your gaze away from his face. . “No,” 

“Is that what my answer should be or are you answering what I just asked?” 

You don’t give him a reply. 

Caleb lets out a soft breath of laughter before he finally seems to decide he’s teased you enough. He gets like this more and more lately. Most times you cool off from it quickly but… 

You aren’t sure what drives you to make a move. What makes you tug him back to you by the front of his shirt when he tries to pull away. If it’s the alcohol, or the jealousy that makes you do it. It’s hard to say what the source of your heart pumping so hard is—only that it’s all Caleb’s doing. 

Your hands fist in the front of his shirt as you drag him forward and kiss him as hard as you possibly can, only barely avoiding biting down with your teeth. Chaste but harsh, you press your lips together with nothing but pure desperation, air pushing hard through your lungs as you do. For a minute or two, longer than a kiss should last. 

And then, you pull away. Out of breath like you just ran a marathon, cheeks hot and flushed. Your first kiss that you initiated.  It’s almost mundane. 

Embarrassed, your first instinct is to jump off the couch and lock yourself in the bathroom. But Caleb knows you. Even better than you know yourself. 

He catches your wrist as he leans towards you. His expression is unreadable. 

“You kissed me,”  He says, completely entranced. “You did right? I didn’t just dream that?” 

“It’s your imagination. You must be drunk,” 

He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.” 

Your frown deepens. How do you refuse him when he acts like that? 

Your heart feels like a jackhammer against your ribcage. You can’t. You really can’t. You shouldn’t have—

“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,” 

Blatant heartache fills his eyes. It feels like something is crushing your chest. “Is that so?” 

You squeeze your eyes, relenting only a little. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “We can’t.”

Caleb scoffs “Why? Because you see me as your brother?” 

“You are my brother.  You are and you always will be, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t, I can’t. You’re—” 

“Why can’t you?” His voice is raw, almost desperate. Trying so hard to understand you. It makes you hurt seeing him like that. “What can I do to become more to you?” 

“You’re already`—” Everything to me. “You’ll always be the most important person to me.” 

His hands grip tighter, devastation darkening the familiar aura of warmth you’ve come to love. Like he’s at the precipice of something considering what he should do. It takes him a while to come upon answers. Staring at you so desperately before closing his eyes, loosening his grip like he’s ready to let you go.

He looks like he makes a choice then. Really makes one. You can already predict what’ll do. What smile he’ll give you but it feels different from other times.

You hold onto him before he can, hand fisted in his shirt. He startles again, softens, not agitated despite how wishy-washy you’re being.

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” You say, so quietly it almost evades you both. “But I don’t want to lose you as my brother if we become more than that.” 

Silence falls between you. 

“You won’t lose me,” He replies, gently and easily. Your eyes meet. It’s nice. “I want to be everything to you, remember? All of it. I want you to only think of me for the rest of our life. For us to only need each other. You don’t need to give anything up. When have I ever said no to you?” 

You turn away from him, shaking your head. “You said that you never saw me as family, that you wouldn’t be—” 

Caleb stops you. “I want to be everything to you. Everything. I want us to only need each other. I had to make you understand. From the start, I never intended to give anything up for anyone else.”

“But that’s…” 

“I don’t care if it’s wrong,” He says, reading your mind. “I’m asking what you want. Tell me who you want me to be. I’ll do all of it for you. 

You glance down, away from him - guilt, remorse, fear. You’re resolve is wavering, but you’re too afraid to say it out loud. 

His voice softens. A hand, big and warm and kind, cups your cheek. You know. Know every scar, every touch. 

“Tell your big brother what you want and he’ll give it to you.” 

Something in you shatters. The weak resistance you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately, denying yourself of what you’ve wanted deep down all this time. Having it offered to you, handed to you—proves to be too much. It all comes tumbling down. 

Your voice comes out like a whine. Your dependency more than shows. 

“Touch me,” You gasp, voice wet with tears. Caleb cracks a slight smile. “Touch me, please—want you so bad. Don’t want anyone else to have you.” 

Caleb looks elated. Adoring. Madly and terribly in love. 

“What a crybaby, hm?” He pulls away from you, standing up before scooping you in his arms “Here. Hold onto me. I’ll carry you,” 

“Caleb, I’m too—” 

He stops you. “I have a bionic arm. Don’t say you’re too heavy. It could carry ten of you.” 

He keeps good on his promise. You wrap your arms around Caleb’s neck as he picks you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, a gasp leaves your mouth as his hands rest under your thighs - lifting you as he walks you to his room. It reminds you of when you were little though a lot has changed since then. 

The realization makes you nervous. 

“The TV is still playing.” You mumble..

“You won’t be able to hear it from my room,” 

“This is embarrassing,” 

“You’ll live.”  Caleb hums. 

“I hate you,” 

Caleb opens his bedroom door with his hip and closes it the same way, walking you to the end of his bed and dropping you on to his mattress. He leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs to keep himself up - inches away from your face. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’ll make me sad.” He says sweetly.

You pout. “Sorry,” 

He laughs a little. “It’s okay,” 

This close to you, you feel a strange warmth glow your whole body. You crane your neck up to kiss him chastely, pulling away and feeling shy again. 

“You taste like beer,” 

Caleb stares at you for a long time, smiling slightly. Dazed. “Should I go brush my teeth?” 

You look down, away from his face, your hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “No…” 

He presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing. “How can you be so cute, hm?” 

“Quit that,” You whine.

“If you get this embarrassed just hearing you’re cute, you’ll have a hard time later on.” 

You blink up at him owlishly. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m barely holding it together, you know?” 

You look up at him. 

“What do you wanna do to me?” 

His eyes seem to dilate.  “Don’t ask me that,” 

“Tell me. I want to know,” 

He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,” 

“I don’t have to be fair with you,” You say petulantly. “Tell me,” 

“I’ve spoiled you too much.” Caleb says, faux regret. “Even if you get scared, you can’t run away.” 

“I won’t get scared,” 

“Really?” Caleb hums. He moves to the side, his mouth next to your ear - voice barely audible. He puts his hands over yours as he towers over you. “You sound confident, but you know—I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. So badly that it scares me just thinking about it. Can you handle that?” 

It’s a confession you think, as much as it’s dirty talk. He pulls back and you’re face to face again. 

“I’m not scared of you. Even if you can’t control yourself I won’t be scared.” You tell him, headstrong as always.

His smile falters. “I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“I know you like to call me a weakling but you know I’m not really made of my glass,” You stare at him, eyes tracing over his features. “It’ll be hard for you to break me in one go. Might’ve be fun,” 

He tsks. “Don’t talk like that. I’d prefer to treasure you.” 

You look at him for a long time quietly. 

“I dreamt of you.” 

“Hm?” 

You feel your face flush, but for some strange reason - you have an urge to tell him. The words come easy. Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a reason to confess. 

“Of you touching me,” Caleb’s eyes go wide. You smile a little. “Used to dream of you when you were, you know… but it wasn’t the way I dream of you now.” 

“How do you dream of me now?” His voice is strained. 

“They’re dirty dreams,” You say, fidgeting. “Sometimes I’m touching you and making you feel good. But most of the time, it’s you doing whatever you want to me.” 

His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?” 

“Mm,” You lock eyes. You can see it in him. It almost feels cruel, but you’re not saying it to tease him. “I had a wet dream about when you were interrogating me. You were being mean in that one. Really mean,” 

“I already said sorry about that,” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” 

He swallows. “Oh,” 

“Yeah, oh.” You slide your hand up his arms, squeezing the back of his biceps as he leans over you. Look up at him with mutual love. “I’ll only say it once so please listen carefully: I’m fine with anything if it’s you.” 

It’s unexpected when Caleb tackles you to the bed. Not to kiss you, rather—but to hug you. You squeal as you both drop onto the mattress with your legs hanging off the edge. Caleb’s full weight crushes you, trapping you in his arms. You find yourself laughing a little, giggly as you feel him squeeze you tight enough to crush you.

“You’re squishing me, Caleb.” 

He laughs breathlessly, rolling you both to the side. Pulling away with your face inches apart, he beams. 

“Do you know that I’m crazy about you? Or do you say things like that not even knowing?” 

“I don’t know,” You say, burying your face against his chest. “I just know you take good care of me. I want to take good care of you too,” 

A spectrum of emotions pass through Caleb’s features at once at the admission. It’s the most vulnerability he’s ever shown you.

His body stiffens. He takes a deep breath before pulling away from you. You watch him innocently as he pushes himself up closer to the headboard. Rolling onto your stomach, you stare at him as he rolls onto his side. 

“More comfortable this way, right?” 

Consider without trying, your face warms. Caleb’s voice is whisper soft. “C’mere.” 

You push yourself up until you’re closer to him, legs no longer hanging off the edge.

Within his reach, Caleb’s hand find your waist. He’s strong, you forget it all too easily—until he’s manhandling you to be in his grasp. Careful but demanding. Rolling on his back, he pulls you onto his lap until you’re straddling him. 

The view proves too much for you both. His face is pink. A sheepish smile on his face. 

“Regretting it?” 

You shake your head quickly, careful not to rest your weight on his lap. He rests one of his hands on your thigh, closer to your knee and steals a glance at you. 

Like this, you become aware of him for the first time. Consciously, as if he’s become a completely different person. All the things you’d never allow yourself to consider, slowly draw into focus. Like seeing him with a new set of eyes.

You notice every detail. Sparking arousal and curiosity, you put your hand on his chest and just stare. Unconsciously, your fingers reach for the dog-tag necklace you gifted him - straightening it. Metal warmed underneath your fingertips, you center it on his shirt. At the dip of his muscles where his chest is. 

Fitted tank-top shows off enough to give you an idea of what’s underneath. Smooth, alabaster skin. Muscles bulking underneath the ribbed cotton - soft and supple from lack of tension, rising and falling with each breath. Your thumb smooths over the silly apple-shaped pendant, the raised letter of the dogtags. The brief skin to skin makes the air feel electric. 

You do it unthinkingly, really. Following your instinct, you rest your hand on his chest before sliding them up closer to his neck. Defined clavicles, the long  column of his throat and how it leads to the angled curve of his jaw. Eventually, your hand finds his face. His boyish features—handsome but youthful. Caleb leans into the touch. His usual, playful teasing nowhere to be found. It makes you jolt in surprise. His expression is painted by desire, a rosy flush to what's an otherwise perfect face. 

His voice grows thick. An octave deeper than you’re used to. “Having fun?” 

“Nn,” You shift under the weight of his gaze. “Sorry,” 

“S’fine,” He says, pressing his cheek to your palm. “You can touch me however you want.” 

Hearing it embarasses you. But your reply comes quickly. “You too,” 

Caleb smiles shakily. His hand slides up your thigh. It’s slight, barely there. His hands are trembling. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“We’ve kissed before,” 

He shakes his head. “It won't be like before.” 

“I don’t have any experience,”

Caleb laughs breathlessly. “I don’t care.” 

You frown, but let yourself fall forward. Suddenly inches apart, your eyes widen. Caleb is staring at you this time. His eyes soaking in your expression, gaze falling onto your lips and staying there. They flicker back to yours for silent permission. 

You meet his eyes completely assured. He swallows and cranes his neck, his hand coming up to your face to cradle it. His thumb traces your lips, inching himself closer and closer. You can hear his breath. Feel it on your face from how close you are. 

Cupping your nape, he presses his lips to yours with unfathomable tenderness—undercut with the hottest flames of desires you’ve ever felt. It’s hard to describe it. All of the kisses you’ve ever had in your life have been Caleb’s, but this one really is different.

An unfamiliar desperation fills it despite being a gentle press of lips. He pulls away and you miss him. Try to chase it as he speaks against your mouth. 

“Open your mouth, baby. Breathe through your nose,” 

You listen to your older brother obediently, mouth parting as he leans in to kiss you again. Soft at first before pulling you down deeper into him by your. A moan escapes you subconsciously and you feel Caleb shiver. Eyes closed, you let him guide you through it. He controls the depth, the pace. You kiss deeply like that, holding each other before he pulls away again. 

Every time you part, you feel a strange pang of sadness. Caleb never leaves you like that for too long 

Your mind is hazy with desire as you fall into a pace with him. He breathes hard each time he pulls away from you, seems overwhelmed each time he kisses you again. Switching between deep kisses to chaste one, your lips throb from the overwhelming intensity of it. His mouth perfectly warm, lips soft and full. Wet as the kiss deepens but not unpleasantly. A tingly sensation that makes your skin prick. 

You make a noise of surprise when Caleb slips his tongue against your mouth. But you don’t dislike it. Rather, out of curiosity, you copy him. 

(A habit of your childhood—to copy your older brother and keep what you like from him as your own. )

Caleb inhales when you mirror him. Your eyes flicker open briefly to see his face, pleased by the draw of his eyebrows, before letting them close again. 

There’s nothing intimidating about kissing Caleb. Every fear you harbor about how you should do it is washed away by the sheer force of your lust for one another. Like a gap of communication has finally been bridged—with your soft tongues sliding against each other, brushing against his palate, open mouth panting, subconsciously rocking your hips. Each second of doubt is brushed away by the overwhelming feeling of mutual, lovesick desire. It flows through your veins with more naturality than even your blood. Nothing more righteous, more sure. 

You kiss like you’re telling him every secret you’ve ever kept—lips incapable of anything but honest confession. Holding onto each other in desperate, desperate necessity. A lifeline. A lifetime of holding it in, unraveling like the seconds couldn’t pass quickly enough to answer for it. 

It feels like the beginning of devouring. You’ve never felt so hungry for something in your life. It gnaws at your conscious thoughts. 

Desire simmers as you subconsciously settle your weight on Caleb’s lap, rocking your hips against the pleasant hardness meeting it. Not entirely sure of what it is your even touching. Caleb moans softly each time you do. 

“Fuck,” Caleb pulls away finally. You whine and he laughs at you. Kisses you again, just once. “Shh, baby.” 

“Nn, you don’t wanna kiss?” Your words come out slurred, even to your own ears. 

“Not that I don’t want to, but you’re—” His laugh comes out higher, breathier. “Doing a little more than kissing,” 

“Mm?”

He looks up at you. Amusement mixed with arousal. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” 

“Feels good,” 

“You’re this weak to a little pleasure,” Caleb says. His hands are hot as they squeeze your hips. “Can’t you feel what you’re sitting on?” 

The question sobers you. Caleb hold you steady to stop you before changing the pace. Uses his strength to hold your hips down as he grinds you over the full length of his…

“Oh,” You’re startled. You’re grinding against—

“You’ve been grinding against my dick like that without thinking about it at all. Isn’t that dangerous?” 

A shiver wracks through you. Caleb’s voice is husky, low when he says. It’s crass and to the point—something you could never imagine hearing him say. But now that you have heard it, it makes it feel like your whole body is melting. Sticky arousal climbs through your limbs, leaves your mind muddled as you moan. Shivering, you fall forward in his arms. He closes them around your back, grinding his hard-on against your clothed cunt. The way it catches on your clit so indirectly feels so good you could cum from it. 

His lips find your face, your jaw. His kisses affectionate. “Feels good, huh?” 

“Mmm,” You press your face to his neck. “Caleb,” 

“Do you want to cum like this? Or do you want me to make you feel even better?”

“Better?” 

“Yeah,” Caleb says, a promise. “Better. Promise. Do you want that?” 

You nod. “I want it,” 

“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?” 

You make an affirmative noise as Caleb flips you on your spine with ease. Surprised by his strength again, you gasp a little as he turns you over until he’s over you. He kisses you sweetly. 

Your head feels full. Too heavy on your shoulders. You want to put your tongue in his mouth again and you don’t feel all the way there. Caleb looms over you. 

“You’re beautiful,” Caleb says, breathless. Your eyes go wide. “Really fucking beautiful,”’

“That’s…” 

“I think it all the time. Want to say it to you all the time, but I never wanna scare you.” Caleb hums, a hand on your thigh. 

“Why would that scare me?” 

Caleb chuckles like it’s obvious. “You get skittish easily, you know? When I act less like your brother and more like…” 

You finish the sentence for him with a pout. “My boyfriend?” 

He hums like just hearing it feels good, eyes lidded. “Yeah. Like your boyfriend.” 

“Well that’s….” 

“Do I make you nervous?” 

His expression is playful. Makes your stomach flip. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt. 

“So what if you do?”

“It’d make me happy,” 

“You want me to be nervous? How mean,” 

He leans into your space. You kiss again and feel disappointed when it’s over. Were you always so desperate? 

“Don’t put words in my mouth. It just feels good to know you think of me that way, yeah?”

Something about it, about him like this makes your stomach tie in knots. You make a face, head tilted trying to tempt him into doing what you want. Caleb knows without you speaking a word, always does. Dips his head down to appease, lips firm and steady. Soft and full enough to make you melt. Your arms around his neck, a little breathless, mewling at the way it makes it feel like there’s electricity in your skin. 

“You really like kissing, huh,”  Caleb says. He pulls away again. Casts a brief glance your way before he peppers kisses all across your face. Draws his lips down your jawline, hot and wet as he noses against your skin. He finds your pulse and darts his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

You keen. It’s a sudden sound, sensitive. Your body shivers. Caleb makes an affirmative noise and does it again. Scrapes the same spot gently with teeth.

Another pitchy moan escapes your lips. Caleb breathes from his nose like laughter. Places more experimental bites and licks all along your neck. Your voice slips before you can catch it. 

“Harder,” 

He appeases you. Just like always. Feeling his teeth in your neck makes your mouth fall open and you moan his name like a small prayer.

His teeth leaves marks along your neck at your request, hands at your waist to hold you in place as you learn more about your body. You can feel your shorts dampen as he does it. It overwhelms you, makes you tremble with every light breath and every sordid bite. You don’t have any experience, have nothing tangible to compare it to except the things you did alone in your bedroom. 

It doesn’t compare at all, though. No amount of relieving your sexual urges as a desperate teenager or fumbling against a stranger in a club even kind of helps your mind make sense of it. Caleb kissing and biting down your neck, his hands touching your skin—it’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt it. First time you’ve known touch like this. 

First time your mind has been rendered so useless to think. 

He rests his mouth as his hands slide up your sides. You gasp slightly as they go underneath your shirt  but you don’t make any move to stop it. Further and further they go until the reach for your back. Searching for something.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” He whispers.. 

“I don’t at home,” 

He lets out a breath like the winds have been knocked out of him. “Right,”

“Are you into that?” You ask before you can stop yourself, surprised by the sound of your own voice. Caleb just laughs like he’s in disbelief. 

“Take a guess,” 

“I just don’t get it,” 

Caleb doesn’t say anything to that. But his hands maneuver. Stopped just underneath the swell of your tits, his eyes look up at yours and ask for silent permission. His shoulders sag with relief when he receives it. 

The way your chest fits in Caleb’s hands makes your breath hitch. Squeezing the fat of them, relishing how they feel between his palms. He’s quick after that, pulling your shirt up until it’s gathered underneath your neck. There’s an impatience to it that surprises you, something uncharacteristically lacking composure as he halfway undresses you. 

His eyes linger like that for a long time. So long it makes your face burn. 

“Stop staring,” 

“...I don’t know if I can.” 

There’s something like awe in his gaze. Your spine tingles, goosebumps appearing on his skin. The way his hands hold onto your waist. He presses his cheek just below your sternum with an loving sigh, kissing it as he picks his head back up. It’s sweet to the point it almost nauseates you. It might if it were anyone other than Caleb. 

His thumbs draw over your nipples, hardened from arousal. Your chest rises and falls in anticipation, in ache. Thighs squeezing together in a silent admittance. His touch is experimental, careful in observing what elicits the most reaction out of you. 

Chest tender, takes one of your nipples into his mouth without warning. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you feel him smile against your chest. 

The air shifts again. Hotter, heavier—there’s a sudden carnality to the way he’s touching you. Mouth latched onto your nipples tenderly, grazing them lightly with the blunt end of his incisors like he can guess everything you like. His mouth on your chest is overwhelming. It baffles you that something can feel that good. Each time you think you can’t be surprised any more, Caleb makes good on making you feel better and you’re forced to eat your words. 

Between your legs is throbbing hard. Whatever Caleb can’t fit in his mouth, he teases with the rough pads of his fingers - brushing and squeezing and twisting. Alternating as to make sure nothing goes neglected. Your hips cant against air, frustrated by lack of friction. Caleb is relentless, but does not make any move to sate your growing desires. 

“Caleb,” 

His eyes are washed over as he looks up. A look on his face you don’t know, have never seen until now. His voice is low in the back of his throat, strong hands cupping your chest and squeezing. 

“‘Mm?” 

A sibling bond like this, you think, is to blame for understanding so quickly what Caleb wants. Something you know innately, deep in your subconscious that makes your cheeks grow hot. A hot, prickly feeling goes down your back and all your clothes suddenly feel restrictive. He sits and remains steadfast, but you can sense it too. 

It feels good but something is missing. Something is off. 

Despite his restless desire, he’s taunting you. Goading you. You groan and Caleb laughs.

“Don’t—Caleb. Please,” 

“Did you want something?” 

Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering. 

“You promised you were gonna make it feel better,” You say, so petulant and childish to your own ears you wince. 

Somewhat predictably, this works on Caleb right away. Overwhelming lust tucked carefully behind a thoughtful smile. “I did, huh?” 

“Don’t be a jerk,” You reply. He laughs but not for long.

He has something flash on his face at your reply. You just kind of know. “Sorry, sorry,” 

“Stop holding back.”

He looks surprised. “I’m not—” 

You nudge him with your knee. “You are. You think I don’t know you? Didn’t you say you wanted me to see you differently? Stop acting like a cool older brother. It’s annoying,” 

His expression is one of awe and amusement. It’s not quite that he’s irritated, but you can sense that you just barely get under his skin with the implication. 

 “Weren’t you the one who was crying about not wanting anything to change? Now you’re chiding me? You were acting so spoiled just a minute ago to get your way and now you’re saying you don’t want me acting like your big brother, hm?” 

Your eyes widen at the change in character. It still feels like Caleb, but it’s so intense. Too sincere to be completely playful. A strange mix of lust, nerves and fear wash over you. “Just—” 

He pushes himself back up to hover over you, swift as a hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze up. Pure arousal shoots through your veins, almost unwittingly, as you catch sight of Caleb’s gaze. An vengeful quality to it. 

“Meimei,” He says, and your breath hitches. Your head is clouded with the immoral lust of hearing it this way. “Your older brother didn’t teach you how to lie, right? If you want something, say it with your mouth. Say it clearly,” 

A flush crawls onto your face, eyes darting away. Caleb allows you this much mercy. To let you look away feels kind. 

It’s an uncomfortable sort of feeling. To acknowledge what desire, what reaction you’re seeking. It’s unfair, and childish - since Caleb has done nothing but love you from the very moment you met him. Kind, gentle, considerate—you love him so deeply that it hurts to breathe just thinking about all you’ve experienced. 

Something about what you’re asking of him is ugly. Born of selfishness, the desire to have all of him, too. 

“Ugh, just—stop saying you want me and show me,” You say, full of distress. 

You see it in his eyes when something clicks. 

And then, with a sudden force, he kisses you. It’s rougher than the ones previous, deeper, greedier. What you want. You moan into his mouth as Caleb licks at your lips, pulling away to kiss your cheek. Sweet as always. 

“Don’t regret it,” 

The change is immediate. In a way, he’s still just answering to your desires - but you don’t dislike this part of him. Your heart rate kicks up as Caleb strips you of your shirt completely before settling himself back down to where he started.

From just beneath your breasts, all the way down the place of your belly and navel - Caleb places hot, wet kisses to your skin. No longer languid but hurried, long fingers curling into the very edge of your waistband as he drops down further and further before settling between your thighs. He glances up at you when he begins to pull down your shorts but doesn’t ask you for permission and it makes you feel a strange thrill when he doesn’t. 

Caleb tugs your shorts off and helps you wriggle out of them in one go - an audible groan escaping his mouth. Plain, tattered cotton panties hug your hips as you lay with your legs up. He nudges your thighs open as you place your feet flat on the bed. With your legs spread, your clothed cunt is readily visible.

He lets out a soft breath. When you look down, your eyes meeting—there’s something almost animalistic to him. A completely and utterly ruined expression, blush dusting across his nose and cheekbones. 

“I want to make you feel as good as you can, okay?” Caleb says breathlessly. 

He brings his mouth to your inner thigh, closer to your knee and places a sweet kiss on the skin. Both of his hands are gripping hard onto your hips, as he breathes in the scent over and over. It sets your body alight to see it in glimpses. His brow is furrowed as he sucks and bites sloppy hickies into the soft fat of your thighs - working his way up slowly. When he finds you properly marked on one leg, he repeats it on the other. 

You can feel the ache of fresh bruises. A sensation that coaxes a completely new wave of arousal straight from the deepest depths of your body. An impossible wetness soaking the paper-thin cotton, sliding down the curve of your ass from how keyed up the touch makes you. 

It’s less that he’s satisfied in his markings with you, more that his desire for you grows too heavy. Caleb stares at your pussy with eyes of pure, unmistakable reverence.

You have never been able to picture another human being looking at you the way he does. 

So much ardor. So much bone-deep, blood-red voracity in a single gaze. The shakiness of his breathing, the harsh grip of his hands, that unsteady look in his eyes as his nose and mouth hover over the soaked panties over your pussy. As if you can see the words repeating in his mind: want, want, want. Nothing more certain. 

Your whole body wracks with a shiver. You whimper with your hands fisted at your sides in anticipation. 

A startled gasp escapes you as Caleb doesn’t do anything but press his nose firm to your pussy and breathe. Deep and unrepentant like he’s trying to memorize the scent of you, use it to track you like a bloodhound. Embarrassed warmth floods your system and you squirm in protest of his actions. 

But you’re trapped there. Completely and utterly, rendered helpless by his gri. His eyes flicker up unfocused but quickly go back to being closed. It’s all the communication you need to know he intends to do exactly as you’ve begged him to do. To expose the extent of his unsavory appetite. Inhaling the scent of sweat and skin, of a day of lounging and leaving your pussy completely confined.

He looks so madly-in-love in the moment you find it hard to breathe even a word of protest. Your clit throbs unhelpfully in response. 

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Caleb finally, finally drags his tongue over the seam of your panties. He doesn’t pull them off—instead sucking the wetness from the material. Puffy clit helplessly pulled into the force of it while trapped under your panties, you buck your hip up against his tongue. Caleb obliges you. He points the tip of his tongue and slides it over the small bud through the cotton - completely stiffened from arousal. You shake at the touch, the wet promise of pleasure. How the drenched fabric of your panties gives the most gratifying, mind-numbing friction. You moan loud. You can’t help the sound that leaves you when he licks your pussy. 

You’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt this way, but you’re under the impression that most people will never know a pleasure like this in their life. 

When your underwear is completely saturated with spit - only then does Caleb let off from you. Without a single word of warning, he tugs away the material. Exposing your pussy, bare and throbbing - he blows warm air onto your clit and watches as you squirm. 

Another beat of admiring before his mouth latches onto your pussy again. Panties tugged away haphazardly, his tongue sliding from wet hole all through the seam, the soft folds of your pussy - settling at your clit. He licks experimentally, wading through your moans. When his tongue tastes your clit just the right way, you practically scream. 

With newfound dedication, he commits to worshipping your pussy with his mouth. 

It’s humiliating. Purely euphoric and undeniably stimulating, boneless as Caleb’s tongue laps desperately at your clit. His eyes shut, completely blissful - brows furrowed and moaning into you. He eats you out like it’s what he’s wanted to do his entire life and this is the last opportunity he’ll have to make good on his dreams. 

The corrupted thought lights fire under your body anew. To think of Caleb lusting for you when he shouldn’t be. Like a forbidden fruit, ripe and sweet and nearly his—nearly within his grasp but always just barely slipping between his fingers. Your kind, sweet, considerate older brother thinking of ruining your mind and body. The idea he’d been torturing himself over it makes you sad but more than that it incites impossible longing. You want him to want you even more than he does now. 

You can feel your body ache for it for the first time. Like a reply to his feelings, you think of how good it will feel when Caleb finally fucks you. Takes you, plucks you from vine  and claims you all for himself. 

But the act of him tasting you like this is more than good. The tender bundle of nerves is throbbing hard against the wet flick of his tongue - hips rutting to meet the perfect motion of his mouth. Something in your belly warms. Sweetens your senses and melts you from the inside like crystalized honey coming to liquid sugar over a flame. Your mind has melted away so utterly you can’t do anything but reach your fingers through his hair and chant his name. 

“Caleb,” Your voice is unfamiliar to you. Worked up beyond any rational understanding.. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.” 

Closer and closer, Caleb remains completely persistent in his efforts. Licks your clit and laps up all the arousal that spills - silky fluid like ambrosia to the unending heat of his mouth.

The knot tangled inside of your body unravels with an alarming speed. Makes your eyes go wide before you shut them again hard, your spine arching off the bed - every muscle in your body going unbearably tense as Caleb’s tongue toys with your clit. The filthy sound of licking making your ears ring. 

Your body goes taut. It feels like a calamity. A pure rapture, like God himself is bringing pleasure. The kind that can only be derived from being your maker. Caleb has that in common with him, you think. 

Your voice rings loud, hands fisted in his hair. You’re cumming hard, and fast, and there’s white behind your eye-lids. Smatterings of bright stars as you press them shut. 

You cum so hard you can’t breathe. For a brief moment you’re weightless before it all comes crashing down in one swift go. Caleb eats you out through it relentlessly and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name - asking for mercy and receiving none. It feels so good it terrifies you. Your body is trembling, cunt spasming around his tongue as Caleb continues his assault. 

You feel something wet rush out of you but Caleb is undeterred. He drinks it all down, every last drop until he’s satiated at least some of his endless, terrifying thirst. 

When he pulls away from your pussy, his mouth is soaked in saliva and your cum. He looked the most satisfied you’ve ever seen him in your life. You’ve never been so scared of someone while being so unbearably aroused in the same breath. 

“You taste so fucking good. Better than I dreamed in my entire life. Need to taste it again. I almost don’t want to do anything else.” He laughs breathlessly. “Almost.”

“Caleb,” You whimper. completely helpless as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, ‘m still cumming,” 

“Gonna make you cum over and over and over.” Caleb says cheery. “Promise,” 

After cumming the first time, your body's sensitivity increases tenfold. Where you think it’ll cool off the glaring heat, melting you down to your core - all it does is turn it higher, make the feeling more tangible. Caleb’s offer to make you cum again excites you more than it scares you. You stare at him when he comes up for air.

“Kiss?” 

“Even after all that?” 

You nod sheepishly. 

“Jeez. How cute can someone be?” 

He comes up for a kiss, surprised when you lick into his mouth. You like tasting yourself on him, tongue dipping in for more. Caleb smiles at your enthusiasm, eyes lidded when he pulls away. 

“Open your mouth,” 

You give him a blank stare but do as he says. He puts a hand on your throat, tipping your head back before you feel something warm hit your tongue. Your eyes meet Caleb’s in surprise, instinctively swallowing the spit as it slides down your throat. Caleb meets you with an eager kiss, a gentle affection in his voice. “Good girl.” 

Something washes over you hearing the praise. A soft moan into his mouth that leaves Caleb with raised brows. “You like hearin’ you’re my good girl, huh?” 

Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,” 

“Still so bad at lying, pipsqueak. Some things never change,” 

The affection in his voice makes you forgive him. You know the tone, the sound—the lilting coo of your older brother's voice when he’s teasing you. It’s a way of speaking you could recognize in a heartbeat, the kind of voice that you’re anxious without. It shouldn’t soothe you in this context, shouldn’t make your pussy feel so achy when you know exactly how he’s addressing you. 

Caleb kisses down the length of your body again. Neck to navel until he settles down between your thighs. You can’t mask your surprise. Caleb looks up at you from between your legs. 

“What? You thought one time would be enough for me?” 

Truthfully, yes. You’re a little startled at the thought he’s going to do it again. Make you feel all of that again. An anticipatory shiver makes you squirm but Caleb holds you in place. He presses another kiss to your clit. “One time doesn’t even come close to being enough.” 

True to his word, Caleb starts the process all over again. 

The second time around, he doesn’t let himself up to breathe. You’re locked in place as his increased familiarity with your body has him driving you over the edge even faster. Firm grip on your thighs, face buried between your legs - he laps at your clit for what feels like an endless amount of time. The pleasant warmth of his mouth paired with the focused, precise licks on your sweet spot make your body wrack with an impossible pleasure. It’s gentle enough to not be completely overstimluating - but his endurance, his persistence in doing it makes your experience a new high. A trembling mess of limbs and quiet, desperate pleas. Too much, too fast - toes curled as he hoists your legs over his shoulders to give him full access. Clit pulsating, stiff under his tongue with his nose bumping occasionally. 

It feels so good you’re almost content to let him stay there. Let your mind wash away and succumb to the gluttony tying you to the bed. You cum twice again from the pressure - your body experiencing each one longer. Unable to withstand it, your hands clenched tight trying to level yourself with the feeling. A pleasure you’ve never experienced, the kind you doubt you’d be able to feel with someone else. 

Caleb has always been like this in that respect. Your older brother who set the standard for every other man you ever came across. You were always using him as the gold standard, comparing every man you’ve ever met to him. Especially ones who claimed to like you. What would your brother do, how would he act, how would he treat you. He’d never tell you if you were too much. Never call you spoiled even when you act it, embody it so why settle for less? Why want for something else? For someone else?

It’s not surprising that Caleb touches you with the same level of care he’s always given you. Even less surprising that your body longs for it so desperately. 

Caleb is your big brother after all. He takes care of you like this. No one else gets to have it. It makes you entitled, moody, and emotional just to think of him acting this way with someone who isn’t you. 

Yearning and deep affection well up inside of you as these things cross your mind. Whisper to your longing as a deep, endless need overwhelms your mind. Your third orgasm steals the breath out of your lungs. A shockwave of emotions washes over you, as you tug at his hair. You let out a throaty whine. 

“Caleb,” You whimper, pulling him off. “Caleb,” 

Attuned to your emotions, Caleb is quick to pull away when he hears the audible distress. He pulls away from you, worried. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Did you want to stop?”

You shake your head rapidly. Caleb gives you a small smile. “Just being a crybaby, then?” 

The truth is, yes, just a little. You can’t voice this to Caleb so you instead give him some unknowable, unreadable look. He reads it almost instantly, shifting himself to hug you tight. Without any words at all, like he knows every single thought that passes through your mind. You wrap your arms around him and nudge your nose against his neck. He smells familiar. 

“This what you wanted?” 

You nod against him. Caleb’s heartbeat is steady in a way that brings you bone deep comfort. 

“Be more pampered with me. More selfish, more demanding, more spoiled. Gege will do anything for you, so don’t hesitate.” 

Hearing him refer to himself that  way makes your stomach flip. You nuzzle yourself deeper into him, aroused by the sound of his laughter - playful but smug. You speak against his chest, words muffled. 

“Want it inside right now,” 

His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?” 

Another nod. You pull away to look him in the eyes when you ask. You know how to beg Caleb for something. You’ve been doing it your whole life, and right now is the most sincere you’ve ever been. Doe-eyed and full lips, all covetous and coy the word falls from your mouth with ease. 

“Please,” 

It has the exact impact on him you want it to have. Groaning, the outline of his cock twitching with a shameful lust, almost blanking out at the thought. He scrubs a hand over his face. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” 

“Please,” You repeat. Caleb kisses you as if to stop you from saying it again. 

“I have to stretch you out on my fingers. It’ll hurt otherwise,” You open your mouth but Caleb cuts you off. “Don’t say it’s fine.” 

“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically. 

“Be a good girl,” He placates, and it works on you just as maddeningly as your begging does on him. “Hm? For me?” 

You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,” 

He coos at you lovingly and you make no effort to deflect. You can’t. Your usual fire and wit, your banter is dissipated. Brain thoroughly undone from so many orgasms and the deep, aching want in your cunt - so apparent it makes you want to sob. A desperation to be full that you didn’t fathom existing in such a bodily way, something you thought only existed in porn. 

Sensing how strung out you are, Caleb changes positions again. Instead of laying between your legs, he curls up besides you. He turns on his side, sliding an arm underneath and hugs your body close to him. Like he’s cradling you. Your legs slot together, one of yours between both of his - your other leg on the outside. Caleb hikes your thigh up - high enough to have your legs spread. The arm not supporting your back is supporting you, his forearm underneath your thigh.

At this angle, you’re face to face. Caleb can see you clearly as he cradles you in his arms. A large hand squeezes your ass before reaching around - teasing your clit with long fingers.

You feel…small like this. It’s the way you’re being held. The feeling of Caleb’s arm under your back, sliding up to hold your neck. 

His fingers are exceptionally long. Slender and thin, with thick veins from wrist to pinky, more appearing less visibly to the rest. His palms are big- making up the bulk of their size. You feel yourself fixating on them in their movements. 

On the calluses on them from handling guns, to the few thin scars from your childhood that have remained on his body into adulthood - now scarred. The way his fingers caress you, stroke your clit slowly. He kisses you again with a silent question like: you like this, right?

The eagerness of your tongue into his mouth answers it for him, a puppy keen on greeting it’s owner. Caleb laughs sweet into your mouth, encouraging you with all the kindness he has in him. His fingers slides through your slick folds impressed until he reaches low enough to be at your hole. 

You’ve put your own fingers in there before. You think you can handle someone elses. 

You find out fast that you can’t. 

Caleb’s fingers are long. They’re thicker than yours, and longer than yours - and just the first one gives you a stretch you're not expecting. You shudder, a noisy breath. It’s an intrusion, a noticeable one. Caleb is careful, though. It’s easy for him to push the digit it when you’re so wet inside. A soft squelching noise makes your skin burn hot but Caleb goes on undisturbed. 

His finger reaches deep. He fucks it in so slowly and so carefully but it feels like it never ends. All the down to the knuckle with just the one, you find yourself shuddering. Caleb is quiet, but you can hear the labor in his breaths. Feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh and twitch. 

You moan his name instinctually - not for any particular reason and he says nothing. Just thrusts his finger in and out. How can something feel so different on the basis it’s someone else? You can’t hold still, rocking your hips against the sensation. Caleb groans unabashed. 

“You want it so bad, huh?” He says, half-delirious and so pleasantly smug. You nod  immediately. 

“A little more. Hang in there, okay?” 

Okay, you think. You’d do whatever it takes in the moment for Caleb to fuck you more quickly so you bite in the side of your cheek and try not beg stupidly each time he repeats the process. Another finger, longer than the last - stretching out, reaching deeper than anything has ever gone in your life, thrusting until your pussy takes it. It surprises you to know just how much you can take when you take three and you really feel  it. How soft it is inside.

“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely. 

Caleb doesn’t heed your request. Another finger goes in. It takes four for him to finally feel like it’s enough. Four fingers stroking from the inside out, an almost brutal precision curling against your g-spot. Not enough to cum, just enough to get so wet he can’t pull his fingers out without the filthiest noise you’ve ever had to follow it.

Completely out of your mind, you grab onto him weakly. Every ounce of shame and sense gone. 

“Caleb,” Your voice is a pant. “Fuck me. Please, please—just do it,” 

His own voice is no better than yours. “Gotta grab a condom from my—” 

Your voice is vicious. Like you’re lashing out at him. “No. Fuck me.” 

Caleb is quieted by it. Unsure of how to react. “Don’t be like that, baby.” 

A reprimand. Soft as ever. Tears well up in your eyes immediately. “Please hurry,” 

“We have to use a condom next time, okay?” 

You hear nothing that comes out of his mouth except the words next time, and nod. 

He gives in. You’re thankful he always does. You’re at your wits end and you don’t know if your body can handle any more waiting. Not getting what you want with Caleb unsettles and upsets you. Especially this strung out. 

Caleb rolls onto your back again after he pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, unwittingly falling onto your back with both legs open. Presenting yourself in some impossibly obedient way that you can’t catch quick enough to stop, knees bent and up in the air. Waiting impatiently for Caleb to follow. 

He follows suit moments later. His hand resting on your knees to spread your legs for him, taking in an eyeful of you as he stands on his own. 

At the angle you’re laying and with nothing to distract your senses - you can see Caleb in full shape. Your body responds in kind for you, throbbing between your legs as you cut his figure. Tall and strong and broad, visible muscles and deltas. There are veins above the lowcut of his waistband, thick and tempting. A little lower than that - a patch of dark hair that leads to…

Your throat feels dry seeing Caleb’s cock standing to attention, just underneath his sweatpants. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to make sense of it. How it strains, a wet patch where it ends. Your breathing slows significantly. Your mouth watering, mind fizzling like a bottle of champagne. The ache in you urges deeper, hand going between your legs to soothe it. Or maybe welcome what's coming. 

Caleb is breathless. Amusement undercut by lasciviousness. “Enjoying the view?” 

You nod stupidly. Caleb grins a little. Makes a show of hooking his thumb into the top of his sweats and tugging all the way down. A thick trail of hair and the smooth, uncut outline of his cock has you gasping. When he tugs his pants all the way pas his thigh, you feel completely speechless. 

He’s huge. Utterly. Too heavy to stand on its own, uncut, veiny. You blink in disbelief, like everything in the room has paused. It’s burly. Ridiculous. Thick enough to look like someone’s forearm. Pearls of pre-cum dribble of out of the tip, pulled back to be revealed. A ruddy reddish brown and angry. It’s darker then the rest, throbbing in a way that looks almost painful. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but that was on accident in a bath before it was—

You stop your train of thought and just stare for an unknown amount of time.

He looks sheepish. The tips of his ears crimson red, all the way down to his chest. You make an unintelligible noise at the sudden change in attitude and also at everything else. 

A sensible person would feel fear. Not your strong suit. You don’t know if it’s bravery or lust that inspires the reaction in your body. You just know you want him to fuck you so bad you might jump  on him to get it. 

“We don’t have to get in today, princess. We’ve got time to—” 

“If you try to deter me one more time I’m going to run away from home,” 

Caleb closes his mouth. He just mumbles something, but obliges you right after. 

In what can only be considered a miracle, Caleb finally settles between your legs. His hands are on top of your thighs as he taps his tip against your clit, rubbing the pre-cum into the mess, The feeling of skin on skin elicits a gasp out of you both. His voice is shaky. 

“Might not last,” He says hoarsely

“S’fine.” You put a hand between your legs and spread your pussy open for him a little wider. A move from porn that works on him instantly. He swears hard under his breath, not giving himself a chance to indulge in the feeling long. 

Tip nudging through slick folds—Caleb finally, finally slides in. 

Another synchronised moan, sweat breaks out onto your skin as you feel the thick tip of Caleb’s cock finally come through. You feel full. It’s completely different from four fingers, more invasive on your body than ever. . 

It elicits a chain reaction. You watch Caleb above you, death grip on your hips trying to keep his composure and not fuck a hole through you. A horrible part of you almost wants him too, even knowing you absolutely wouldn’t be able to take it. 

You’re trembling. It feels ridiculous but you’re so worked up that - 

“Gonna c-cum,” 

Caleb’s eyes blow wide. “From—fuck. That ain’t fair, you can’t,” 

You buck your hips up and groan. He’s stretching you out so fucking good. One more time and it’ll hit that spot and it’ll feel so perfect, so right. You need it. Caleb shakes over you. 

“Mercy,” He says, not sober enough to laugh. You’re going to lose your mind soon. Maybe you already have. 

“I-s it all in?” 

“Half,” Caleb grunts. You moan at the thought. 

“Fuck me. Shit, please,” Your voice breaks high on the last syllable. Caleb looks like he wants to protest, wants to tell you to take it slow. But you can see it in his face that he’s reached his limits. Or maybe he reached them a long time ago and he’s already far gone. 

But he listens. Your jaw goes slack and he pushes in. Inch by tortuous inch until you feel him bottom out. Feel his hips on the back of your thighs. His cock is throbbing inside of you, silken walls clinging onto the shape like you’re being pried open. It doesn’t take anything. He shifts as he bottoms out and your voice comes out in garbled, unintelligible noise. 

“O-oh, ‘m cumming, cumming, ngh,”  Your back arches up that leaves your mind blank. Completely white out, nothing but static as you cum again. Cum around the hard, intrusive length of your older brothers cock - bullying into your cervix until it’s wet and pliable and fuckable for him. Stretching out like it’s his to shape and mould. You can feel it in your body, each vein and each curve. Caleb lets out a whistle. Sharp and so fucking dark, it exicites you helplessly. 

“She’s clingy just like you,” He says, fond but sneering. 

Your head spins when it dawns on you on what he’s saying. 

“Caleb—” 

“I feel conflicted. Are you naturally this gifted?” He laughs, folding over you. Overtaken by something. Bending you under his weight. “Or is it because it’s mine that you’re making it so easy?” 

“I was worried, you know,” He pulls out. The disappointment and gaping emptiness are brief. You hear the way your body refuses him pulling out. “Worried about how such a tight hole would fit something so big. Worried about your body, but you’re taking me in so fucking well. So perfect,” 

You’re panting. It feels so good. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, limp under the weight of it as Caleb gives you a slow few thrusts to get you used to the size. But you’re so stretched and sensitive it just feels fucking incredible from the jump. 

“Be a good girl and let me in.” You clench down on him. He grins to himself. “That’s it,” 

He bottoms out again. Slams hips and fucks you in one swift, unforgiving motion. Groaning, he puts his hands up under your knees, driving his dick into you with animalistic need. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m never gonna be able to think about anything else. It’s not like I was before but you’re-” Out, back in. You haven’t made a single coherent sound. “You’re just too good. It’s warm and wet and still so tight, how are you still so tight, huh? It’s like you don’t want me to leave.” 

For a brief moment, the two of you make eye contact. The vivid color of his eyes burns bright, pins you underneath the weight of his gaze. It goes straight to your stomach, making it flip in one smooth go. 

“Tell me it’s okay,”  Caleb says, barely restraining himself. 

You look up at him confused. He suddenly looks like he’s at his wits end. 

“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,” 

Like a woman possessed, you reach your arms around to squeeze his back and biceps. You put your mouth close to his ear as you bring him down towards you. 

“Gege,” He twitches inside of you. “Fuck me as hard as you can,” 

You underestimate just what effect it’ll have on you. On him. As quick as he possibly can, he pushes his hands under your knees and folds you into a mating press so deep it makes you scream. He’s pistoning you instantly, pounding into your pussy like he owns. Your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders without realizing. 

“I love you,” are the only words that come out of his mouth. It has you clenching down even harder. “Gege loves you more than anyone else in the world, okay? More than anyone.” 

Just like that, Caleb fucks you. Given up on being gentle but still trying to make you feel good, trying to touch somewhere no one ever will again - he folds you up under the weight of his body and fucks you with relentless stamina. Your mind is gone. His cock is fat and heavy inside of you, splits your pussy open as the tip knocks against your g-spot with each thrust. His balls smack against your ass on each go. 

It’s too much. For your brain, for your body, for your insides - getting permanently rearranged like he’s crushing your womb. A feeling like it should be painful, but it isn’t because he’s got you so good and open. This a reward for you both. For his patience. Every thought wrung from your head, impressed by your body’s own avarice for cock. Addicted to the feeling of getting strethed, gaped completely open. It feels like you’re cumming without a clear end. 

Wanting Caleb to cum inside of you is a distant thought. Pleasant like a lullaby as your body yearns for it. Another sharp orgasm builds. It builds and builds and builds - and you know’re going to be fucked through it again. 

But this time Caleb is close. Right alongside you. Sweating and panting in your ear as he pounds into your frenzied. 

His voice comes out like a whine and it turns you on even more. You say it before he can think of pulling out, tightening your legs around his waist. 

“Cum in me,” 

Caleb grinds himself deeper. “Gonna cum in you, baby. I love you, I love you—fuck!” 

Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out. 

Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot. 

“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?” 

You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when  it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give. 

He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him

You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection. 

“I love you too, Gege.” 

He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” 

__ 

You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out. 

You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier. 

Also a little embarrassed. 

You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning. 

You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.

Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen. 

Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new. 

“G’morning,” 

Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout. 

“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?” 

You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.” 

“That’s good, then,” 

You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away. 

“Caleb?” 

“Hm?” 

Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?” 

He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this? 

Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.” 

You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,” 

Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed. 

Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away. 

“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you. 

You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t. 

You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love. 

“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,” 

[meo-eiru]

Day 2 of Character Trivia Night! Just a heads up, I already tagged it with the necessary tw warnings but I'll be mentioning self harm so proceed with caution

For tonight we have Elias

Elias has a mother and father, and is an only child

His father is an office worker and his mother is a stay at home mom

He occasionally talks to them when they call him but doesn't actively try to keep a close bond with them

He had short brown hair before meeting you but after doing so he decided to switch to a more flashy appearance to make up for his lack of personality

He doesn't have a favorite or least favorite food but follows a strict diet to have a body to your liking

He's not a morning person but forces himself to wake up early to spend 1 to 2 hours in the bathroom prettying himself up

Has had the same manager for years but still can't remember his name

He had a few stalkers growing up and was even poisoned once after you two started dating

He was more worried about appearing sickly in front of you than almost dying so when you tried entering his room to check up on him he cried

Talking with a man for more 10 minutes, being alone with one for more than 5 minutes, not returning his calls or messages within 1 minute, not looking at him once for more than half an hour when you two are together and not complimenting him at least 30 times during the day all counts as signs of cheating in his eyes

If you show attraction to another men, such as an idol or celebrity, he'll start mimicking their looks and behavior

He desperately wants to kill the people around you but last time he tried it he almost messed everything up so now he just pretends to be a victim and ruins them socially

He's not such a high ranking model because besides his good looks he lacks presence, but he does have a decent social media following

He doesn't post that often and when he does they are either just photos or a few words, it was enough to gather a small cult following though

He does have a private account he uses to vent, he usually uses it like a diary to write about you but when he gets distressed his posts turn very aggressive

He occasionally does self harm, he doesn't particularly enjoy the feeling but he loves the expression on your face when you see it

He usually uses it as a trick to manipulate you. Once he couldn't contact you for an hour so he just spammed you with pictures of a particularly deep wound and "I'm ending it since you apparently don't care about me" messages.

You had to run to his house only to find him lightheaded from blood loss, but he just greeted you with a smile and hug like his arm wasn't dripping blood

If you can't take it and try to break up with him he'll take it outside, start making a scene, gather a crowd and threaten to jump off until you take it back due to public pressure

He doesn't particularly care about the scars left during these outbursts since he views them as memories the two of you share but if someone else leaves a scar on him, even by accident, he'll have a breakdown and attack the person until someone pulls him back

His favorite dates are the ones where you two just laze around in bed the whole day, open a random show and have sex instead of actually watching it

He's mostly fine with you having your own hobbies and interests but if you seem to enjoy them a bit too much for his liking he'll start throwing tantrums to get you to do them less

He has two moles right above his butt, on the left

[sugarwarachan]

roll the dice - ft. sero hanta

pairing: sero hanta x roommate!reader

summary: It's Valentine's Day and Sero does his best to keep his horny thoughts to himself. He doesn't succeed.

cws: smut mdni, face sitting, sero hanta is a pussy-eating KING, dirty talk

based on this prompt list

"Wow," Sero whistles, while you teeter on one heel and hop into the other. That dress hugs every inch of you. "Someone’s lookin’ good. Hot date?"

You laugh, and fuck, he’s such an idiot, because the sound travels straight to his dick. He adjusts himself as subtly as he can and goes back to cooking dinner.

"Something like that.” You swipe on lip gloss in the hallway mirror. "He’s a coworker. I might have mentioned him?"

You’ve mentioned him 17 times. Not like Sero’s counting.

"Make sure he treats you right," is all he says instead, doing his best to ignore the cute little blush tearing across your face as you duck out the door.

Alone on Valentine’s Day, he thinks ruefully, settling his long frame on the couch. Alone on Valentine’s Day with a raging hot case of let-me-fuck-you-right-now for his roommate.

He should have turned down being your roommate the minute he saw you on Denki’s phone. If he had, he wouldn’t be this jealous of some random shithead taking you out for Valentine’s Day.

He considers texting Denki just to have someone to commiserate with, but the guy is probably doing his best to woo Jiro and doesn’t need the distraction.

He sparks up a joint and turns on 13 Going on 30 (so he’s a rom-com guy, sue him), trying not to think about how much better this night would be if you were here.

The door clicks a half hour later, followed by the rap of your heels on the ground. You trudge into the room and slump on the couch right next to him.

“He didn’t even show up,” you whisper into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He feels a few tears hit his collarbone.

Sero Hanta considers himself a pretty even-keeled type of guy, but wanting to punch this dick’s lights' outs shoots to the top of his to-do list.

“Oh honey, what a fuckin’ dickhole.” His hands tighten on your waist. “Doesn’t deserve someone like you, anyway.”

He probably shouldn’t say that, not when he’s rubbing circles on your hip through the material of your dress, the scorching heat of your body against his impossible to ignore. But he's been thinking it for months now, all of his own attempts at dating tossed to the wayside when he realized he just preferred coming home to you.

“No?” You pull away and delicately wipe away unshed tears. He doesn't know why he finds it so cute, this innate desire to preserve what's left of your mascara. “Who does deserve me, Hanta?”

You grab the joint and drag and his mind goes fuzzy. You’ve never outright called him on it like this before.

“Maybe I do angel, ya ever think of that?”

“Yeah?” There’s that megawatt smile of yours, kicking him in the teeth. “You think of me like that, too?”

It’s new territory for the both of you, admitting to the attraction that Sero realizes has been simmering for weeks.

“Yeah. I think of you all the time.” He cups your face and cocks his head. "We doin' this? You gonna let me show you how I'd treat ya on Valentine's Day?"

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. "Cheesy bastard."

He cuts off your laugh with the press of his mouth.

Sero's not normally one to wax poetic, but something about the way your body instantly sinks into his makes his heart lurch. You kiss him like you've been spending your whole life studying how to do it, and it drives him absolutely insane.

"Knew we'd be good together," he says, grinding the curve of his cock into the cleft between your thighs. "Feel how hard I already am, baby? Just from one little kiss."

You groan into his mouth and start pawing at his clothes.

"I know, I know, want you naked too. Don't fuckin' pout, I think you'll like the idea." He repositions the two of you with him lying down on the couch, you straddling his hips. "Remember when you said you've never sat on a guy's face?"

Your eyes darken with excitement. "I remember."

"What if we change that?" He strokes his thumb under the band of your dress, shimmying it over your hips. The pretty red lace covering your pussy makes his breath catch. "Because you know what's gonna happen if we don't?"

He traces the folds of your pussy through your underwear with the pads of his fingers.

"I'm gonna get inside this perfect fuckin' pussy and embarrass myself. Probably come after two pumps like an idiot because she's just so fucking sweet." He pulls your panties down and drags you up to his face. He catches the little whine of insecurity in your throat at the position.

Your pussy is swollen and begging for attention, arousal clinging to your lips like dew.

"Take a fuckin’ seat, baby, ya think I’ve never done this before?"

He molds his hands around the meat of your hips and thighs, and then Sero feasts, sucking and grinding his chin and nose and tongue up into your cunt. You wail and fall forward, holding yourself steady on the arm of the couch. He doesn't care if he has to hold you up himself; he's in heaven between your thighs, the taste and scent of you all he can fucking think about.

You cum quickly, gasping and shuddering above him as he drinks down your orgasm like fucking water.

"Felt good, didn't it?" he prods, biting your inner thigh and soothing it with a kiss. Your shaky nod makes him grin.

Sero sits backs up with you in his lap, wiping the back of his mouth with a forearm and licking at his lips like a dog. He hopes he smells like you for hours.

Black streaks of mascara run under your lashes. He swipes them away with the back of his thumb. "Sorry honey. You worked hard on this makeup, huh? And I'm just making you cry it off."

It's your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

ahhhhh i've written for him ONCE i hope i did him justice

[cosmosluckycharms]

Showtime☆

pt2

Lullaby In Blue

When you finally get to the manor, it's dark out.

You were so sleepy. You just wanted your momma. You just wanted your grandpa.

You assume that when you get home, your father will take you in with open arms and talk as sweetly as your momma said.

Unfortunately for you, unlike how momma described him, he's cold and hard to decipher...

You look up at him in a mix of curiosity and excitement. He looked so cool! he was wearing a fancy outfit and he just looked so cool! The only thing that threw you off was how he looked so.....tired.

"WOAH!! You look so cool! Are you my dad? Momma has said so many good things about you! How about that one time when you-" He cut you off.

"Alfred, show her to her room if you will." he started walking away.

Your heart broke a little at that, but it's okay! You win him over sometime! For now, you need a nap.

Alfred walks you to your room while profusely apologizing about Bruce.

You walk into your room. And it's clear they didn't do much research on you...

The toys were better suited for a kid younger than you, maybe around 4 or 5 years old.

You don't complain though, the room is huge and you have a bigger bed than you can imagine!

You have your bedroom and walk-in closet! Alfred says to sleep and tomorrow they'll sort out the room and make it more for you.

The next morning you wake up and decide to unpack a bit.

You didn't have much, just a few clothing items, jewelry from your momma, a few picture frames, and some of momma's old stuff such as paintings and her cassettes of movies.

As soon as you finished unpacking Alfred came to call you down for breakfast.

You go downstairs to see at the table your father, a boy around 23 with black hair, and another boy who looked around 18 years old with also black hair with a white patch.

You introduced yourself to them like your momma taught you.

"Hello!! im Y/N L/N!!! Well, actually I don't know about L/N now because technically he is my dad," you point to Bruce. "I'm kinda hungry," before you could continue with your ramble Alfred shut you up with a plate of pancakes in front of you.

It's clear to everyone but you that 7 in the morning is too early to be this hyper and nonsensical.

"Oo! pancakes! I love pancakes! They're my favorite! My grandpa makes it from scratch-" You pause for a second, a very slight stop that makes your eyes water up a little.

No one could notice it.

Well besides the literal detectives sitting at the table.

You continued rambling for a bit before Alfred mentioned a playground in the backyard, recently designed for you.

"WOAH that's so cool! Can I go play on it? Please?" you made sure to drag the 'e' in 'please', that's how it always worked on momma.

He allowed you to and you quickly got off your chair.

You were about to play outside before realizing you were nowhere near ready to play outside, you still had your PJs on, and your fuzzy socks!

You ran to your room to get ready for the day, which was difficult because momma would always help usually

You were trying not to look sad, you shouldn't be sad. You should be thankful for all the things they're doing for you.

After a couple of hours of playing on the mini playground, you got tired.

You decided to get back inside and eat.

You went inside and saw it was empty. You decided to go into your room and take a nap.

You walked in and realized you forgot to go shopping with Alfred! All the things in your room were baby things, and you only had two other pairs of clothes to wear!

You didn't mind though.

You lay down on the carpet and fell asleep immediately.

It wouldn't hurt to sleep for a while...

You woke up a couple of hours later.

You woke up silently crying, you had a dream about the day you and your momma and grandpa went to a theme park.

You couldn't remember much about the dream, only that you had so much fun.

You don't know why you're crying, you had a great time, did you not?

You didn't understand. This shouldn't be happening.

To calm yourself down, you started humming the lullaby your momma sang to you.

It worked slightly.

You decided to get up and eat, you were hungry and hadn't eaten earlier.

You went downstairs and saw a boy no older than 15 eating a bowl of cereal.

You hadn't met him yet, so you tried to introduce yourself to him!"HELLO! My name is Y/n l/n!!!!! What's your name??"

Unfortunately for you, you caught him at a bad time. He had been working on a case since 7:30 am and this was his break.

"Leave me alone," he said, in a obviously tired tone.

Well, obvious to everyone but you.

You continued asking him questions, only for him to ignore you, grab the bowl of cereal, and walk away to his room.

You looked at him with a confused look on your face.

Your stomach rumbled a bit before you snapped out of it and grabbed yourself a bowl of cereal too.

You ate alone at the table.

The next day while outside in the garden, you saw a boy playing with a dog.

The dog looked so cute! You decided to talk to the boy.

"HELLO!! Im y/n l/n!! it's nice to meet you!!"

You started asking him a lot of questions, like what his name was, what the dog's name was, are you guys were siblings, and more!!

The excitement you had to meet others was overwhelming to some people.

He ended up getting the dog to chase you away.

You ran to your room and stayed there the entire day.

You wanna go home.

You ended up finding out their names at one point or another.

The 23-year-old one was Richard "Dick" Grayson, the 18-year-old one was Jason Todd, the one that shooed you away while eating cereal was Timothy "Tim" Drake, and the boy who got his dog to chase you was Damian Wayne.

You don't understand why they didn't want you, you weren't mean or evil like those villains you saw in the books momma read you, so why did they not want you?

You tried getting into hobbies you didn't care about so you guys could talk about them.

You joined a book club, which you kind of disliked since it was so quiet.

You joined gymnastics, which you were good at and kind of enjoyed, it did help you get your energy out, though!

You tried coding, which you didn't like at all.

You tried art, which you were okay at.

Nothing really stuck!

And it's not like it helped with getting your family to notice you.

It didn't matter to them, they had Gotham to help.

You didn't have actual hobbies or interests for a while.

Not until you were 12.

You had signed up for theater in middle school, and the teacher was nice enough to take you all on a field trip to a play.

It changed your life.

You knew immediately that that's what you wanted to do.

You wanted to spread smiles, just like how this play had spread joy to you and others.

You wanted to perform on stage for others!

You knew this was what you wanted!

As soon as you got home you asked Alfred if for your birthday you could have a stage.

One that was going to be demolished soon due to not bringing in any money.

He decided to think about it.

It was a strange request coming from you.

You never really asked for things like this.

You never really asked for non-neccesities at all!

But he decided to not think about it too hard.

feeding my like 2 emu!reader enjoyers lmfao

oml this took so long

guys lowk im so tired

anyways this is ass

taglist:

@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

CRUSH- D.GRAYSON

pairing: richboy! dick grayson x girly! innocent!fem! reader

part one here!

word count: 2.7k

summary: its the morning after your prince charming had swooped you off your feet, and somehow- dicks secret superpower is diminishing hangovers, by taking care of you.

warnings: sexual thoughts/ implications, kissing/ slight make-out session, pet names, mentions of masturbation, size kink implied, swearing, dick asks reader out on her first date and kinda acts like a sugar daddy lol, he's kinda a soft dom in a way...

Your head felt like a truck had run over it.

As if you had been tossed on the road, and a Ford F150 had slowly taken its time driving its tires over your head.

You woke up, still in your clothes from the night before, makeup smudged and jewellery tangled. Groaning, you slowly pulled each limb out of bed, feeling like a jello.

The clock hands ticked just past ten thirty, but it felt like you had got an hour of sleep, tops.

You were in definite need of a nap today, you thought to yourself as you slowly rocked up to your feet, tugging off your clothes from the previous night.

The fact you had worn outdoor club clothes in your bed… yeah, you’d need to wash your sheets today too.

You let the morning light that peaked through your thin curtains illuminate the path to your dresser, where you tugged on a new pair of panties and an oversized band tee. Kicking past skirts and thongs, you placed your head in your hands before you managed the courage to go out and brave the bathroom.

And the kitchen. But the thought of greasy bacon and eggs made you excited, just a little.

You creaked open your door, starting to walk to the bathroom before stopping in your tracks.

Oh fuck.

Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the couch, blanket covering practically nothing as he snoozed. His legs were spread, one out on the floor, the other over the arm of the couch.

And his abs… Oh god.

Here was this man- completely sprawled out in your living room- that you had completely forgotten about him staying- mind you. You didn't know why he stayed- the couch clearly was not suited for him- but you were glad he did.

You just needed to get things ready before he woke. And put pants on.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…” you mumbled, feet pattering on the hardwood as you scurried to the bathroom.

What you didn't know of course, was the man was already awake- and had been for a while. He had learned to “pretend sleep”, so his roommates would leave him alone when they came home and he was in the living room.

You didn't even let the water warm up before you were scrubbing at your face frantically, like a mad woman before trying to fix your bedhead.

Soon he’d be awake, and you wanted to make him breakfast in bed (on the couch? You didn't know what the hell to call it).

It was the least you could do for him, for taking care of you. He was so sweet. It made your heart flutter, remembering how kind he was to you last night. And here he was on your uncomfortable ass sofa!

A true gentleman indeed.

You frantically rushed to the kitchen, seeing his body still splayed out as you darted to the kitchen, trying your best to be quiet.

“Fuck fuck okay make coffee, make him coffee and find eggs…” you whispered to yourself, making him smirk to himself. He cracked an eye open, shifting so he rested his head over the sofa, watching you silently.

You were in your own little world, trying to reach for a mug on the highest shelf.

“Need any help with that bun?”

You jumped, whipping around to face where he rested his arms and head over the couch back- a smirk on his face.

“You scared me! How long have you been awake for? I’m so sorry if I was loud-”

“A while. You werent loud sweetheart. Dont need to get yourself all worried about me, okay?”

He stood with a stretch, ruminging around on the ground before he found his target- tugging on his pants from last night. You quickly averted your gaze- covering your eyes with a hand as he tugged them on, pulling your fingers apart just a peak to try and get a glance.

You felt guilty but- oh well. You already saw him when he was “sleeping”. 

Heat spread throughout your body as he made his way over to you, trapping you in against the countertop- facing his chest as he reached up with ease to grab the mug you were after. You were frozen in place for what felt like forever, as if you were a statue, just marveling at the sight of him.

“T-thanks.” you managed to mutter out as he handed you the mug, cocky grin plastered across his face- knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Oh but wait! Things get better! Your inner monologue shouted at you as his hand reached up to brush a stray eyelash of your cheek, rough thumb so gentle across your skin.

“You feeling okay?” he asked gently, knowing last night was… something.

“I’m okay. I have this throbbing in my head- like a drum. S’annoying.”

He snorted, grabbing another mug for himself.

“Yeah that’ll do it. Coffee will fix you up.”

“Do you not have a headache?” you asked, suddenly broken from your trance as he neared the coffee machine, reminding you of your duties before he decided to flip flop your heart around.

“Me? You’re cute.”

You frowned, forehead lines crinkling in a way that made him swoon. You were so adorable when you frowned. Like a little bunny, crinkling its nose.

“Thats not fair.”

“Sweetheart, one of us here is a lightweight, and one of us here is not. Thats the way it goes. Plus, I’m a lot bigger then you.”

You raised your eyebrow, flicking on the machine, the hot liquid beginning to trickle out into his mug.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. And stronger too.”

You swallowed, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller, and smaller. You’re apartment wasnt exactly a penthouse suite, but it wasnt super small either. Yet, your kitchen felt like it was crammed with him in it, the room turning hot, your cheeks filled with heat.

“I-I think your coffee is done Dickie.” you murmered, watching as he reached right past you, grabbing the cup and taking a sip.

He drank it black. Of course.

Whistling a little tune as he opened your fridge, craining down to dig around in your fridge, as if he had lived here for years. “Do you want some fruit?” he asked, pulling out a container of berries, and a carton of eggs.

“Please. God I need a strawberry in my system, or I’m gonna crash out.”

“What- you haven't already?”

You lunged at his remark, wacking his bicep lightly, making him laugh. “Make me eggs or I’ll crash out even more.” you smiled, snagging the milk out of the fridge door to pour in your own coffee, adding some sugar.

Popular opposites, it seemed.

He raised his hand to his forehead, giving you a stern salute. “You got it sweetheart.”

----------------------------------

It was the best hangover morning you’d ever had.

You didn't even know those existed, but with Dick Grayson- they did.

He made breakfast in your kitchen, like it was his house. Serving up perfect eggs and toast, with your fruit- it was as if it was gourmet.

Planting a soft kiss on the top of your head, before serving it to you was the cherry on top.

The two of you talked as the sun steadily filtered through the clouds, laughter and utensils clattering. He was just- you couldn't even put your finger on it. It was like he was your boyfriend- honestly.

You just met him the other night, and here he was, making you breakfast and laughing at your stupid jokes after staying the night on the couch- AFTER taking care of you.

There was no sex. No trade offs, no nothing.

It made your head spin, at the complete 180 he seemed to be from most college guys. He was older, yes, but not by much. A few years at most. But he carried himself as if he was matured, older and wise.

Like he could get anything he wanted, if he talked slickly enough- which he always did.

You were captivated under his spell, watching his blue eyes sparkle as he talked, and the ink black strands that would fall in front of them.

He was smart, he was funny and he was oh so sweet.

You wanted him to stay forever, just as company- in all honesty. He was amazing company. The silence was never awkward, when there was some that hung in the air. He’d just admire you from where you sat at the breakfast nook.

“You’re so pretty. You know that? The prettiest girl.”

It made your skin heat, always looking down at your hands fiddling in your lap, when his compliments became overwhelming (they all did).

But when the coffee grew cold, reality had set in, and he had to leave. As much as it pained you to let him go from your safe haven, you knew he had his own life to attend to- and you had yours. But that didn't stop you from trying to convince him, nonetheless.

”I think you should stay.” you teased as you opened the front door, leaving it swung open- as if to coax him back inside.

He groaned. “Bunny, you know I’d love to. But-”

His phone started to buzz, and he rolled his eyes, fishing it out of his pocket. Tim’s name flashed across the screen, a man you presumed was his friend.

“Speak of the devil. I gotta get back to help my roommates with something I promised them sadly, but I promise I’ll be back. Okay?”

You nodded, stepping out from where you were shielded by the door, body coming into full view. His eyes darkened, as he saw your thighs that poked out at him from your t-shirt in the dimmed hallway lighting.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can. Would you like to get dinner sometime this week?” he asked, stepping closer to you, so your breaths were practically intermingling.

You crained your head up to look at him with wide, doe eyes- and he nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that Dickie.”

“Yeah I know you would. Now cmere, I wanna kiss you. That okay?”

You licked your lips as he slowly backed you up against the doorframe, caging you in as his hand slipped up to grasp your jaw, holding it gentle- yet firm.

“I’d love that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? This okay sweetheart?” he breathed, leaning down so his lips were almost touching yours.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, the sweet taste of him sending shocks up your spine- nerves coursing on fire at the sensation, as his tongue coaxed your lips to part, begging for entrance.

You moaned, muffled by his lips as he swallowed you whole, consuming you as he gripped your waist, tugging your hips closer to him, so your back was arched against the old wooden frame.

You felt dizzy, when the two of you finally parted, your lips feeling flushed and swollen, a dazed look in your eye as you just stared at him.

Was that the best kiss of your life? Yes.

Were you going to tell him that? Hell no.

You knew his ego did not to be inflated anymore.

He smiled mischievously, like a feline as he planted a kiss on your forehead, and then another, before he turned down the hall. Like he didn't just sweep you off your feet, leaving you dazed like some swooning princess who had just found her prince charming.

“I’ll call you sweetheart.” he called, waving without a second glance, before he disappeared down the stairs, and out the door- leaving no trace of him but your flushed skin and the door swinging on its hinges. 

--------------------------------

Dick was hounded the second his foot stepped in the door.

“So? When do we meet her?” Tim asked from the living room, perched beside the IKEA boxes of parts for the new couch he was supposed to help put up (even though they could easily do it without his help).

He slammed it behind him, hard. “Don't even start.”

Jason let out a little whistle, not even sparing Dick a glance, though he knew the look in his eye would set him off anyways. “He really likes this one Drake. Means he’s gonna get all possessive and not share her with any of us.”

He tossed Dick a wink, making Dick clench his fingers into fists. God they knew how to get under his skin.

“He’s scared she’ll decide she likes us better, don't worry Dickie, I get it.” Tim called, watching as Dick rolled his eyes, making his way over to the mess on the hardwood floor.

“When do we need this done by?” he ignored Tim, starting to pry open one of the boxes.

“Uhh I don't know, when do you want a couch for?”

“I don't know why we need a new couch. Our old one was fuckin fine.” Jason grumbled, flipping a screwdriver between his fingers, even though he was strong enough to probably just press the damn nails in.

“Because it was disgusting and I’m tired of breaking my ass on a spring whenever I watch a game.” Tim mumbled.

Dick was in his own world, tuning out anything that wasn't the thought of you. He already missed your presence. Your soft touch, your sweet smell, the little noises you made when he kissed you, pressing you firmly against the door.

So close he could feel your hardened nipples brush against his chest, skin hot to the touch.

He needed to see you, and soon. Where the hell did he want to take you for dinner?

Up on the East end?

No, not fancy enough.

He needed something spectacular for you. Ideally, he’d want you ending the bed in his bed, in his car- he didn't care where. He just wanted you again, your lips and your pretty little sounds that he would most definitely be imagining tonight when his hand was wrapped around his cock.

He’d take his time with you, unravelling you like a gift. Whether that was on leather seats or memory foam mattresses, he didn't care.

He’d needed this extra special for you.

He’d call in some favours.

---------------------------------- It was nearing the late evening when your phone buzzed, the only name you wanted to see popping up on it.

You were all ready for bed, facemask completed, everything shower done, soft pjs on, nails painted and candle lit. Seeing his name flash on the screen made your heart flutter, and you quickly opened his message, not even bothering to pause your show before responding.

Dick: Hey pretty. Does Tuesday work for dinner?

You: Hi :) Tuesday is perfect!

Even if you had plans that night- you’d push them aside.

Dick: Perfect. Be ready for 8pm, sharp ;)

You: Yes sir:)

You watched his message bubble up, before disappearing again. Then it popped up again, a notification alerting you that he had sent you money.

Your jaw dropped.

This man had just sent you $800 dollars.

Dick: You’re gonna accept this okay? Or I’m going to be very upset and I’ll find a way into your apartment and hand you the money myself. Get yourself something nice for Tuesday.

You were gobsmacked.

How the fuck were you supposed to accept this?

You: Dickie… I don't think I can accept this. And I don't even know what to wear.

Dick: You’ll accept it, and you’ll find something. Anything you pick will be beautiful, I promise bunny.

Your hands were shaking as you held your phone between twitching fingers, in a state of shock. You had known this man for two days, and he was splurging $800 on you? You didn't even know how to respond.

Although to him, you supposed- it probably was next to nothing.

Here he was, making you play dress up to some date planned- that you were unaware of. You had no theme to go off of, no idea of what was happening.

You bit your lip, fighting a little more, even begging for a clue or hint of what to wear- but he gave you nothing. Claiming he wanted you to be authentic, to wear whatever you wanted.

It was too much creative freedom.

Your head swarmed with thoughts of all the possibilities, $800 was a lot of money, and you didn't even know where to start. You let yourself have a mini freakout, and be overwhelmed, before you tucked yourself under the covers, pulling out your laptop to start browsing Pinterest.

You had no time to mess around.

You had a crush to impress.

--------------------------------------------------------

eek so dickie is gonna go all romantic and take reader on her first date? hmmm ;)

@gwyneveire <3 if anyone else wants to be tagged i can try and remember to add you in the future!

[jedisupernova]

old school love with choi seunghyun

notes minors dni contains fem reader, non idol au, seunghyun and reader are in their early twenties, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the late 2000s (hence the mention of specific phones, references to certain media, songs linked throughout, and party culture,) awkward yet cute first meeting, this very much slice of life, slight angst (a silly misunderstanding during the meet cute, reader brings up insecurities from not being experienced), tooth rotting fluff, a few appearances from jiyong because yes!, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader is inexperienced (never been kissed, never been confessed to; seunghyun is her first love), reader has strict parents which leads to seunghyun and reader having to sneak around, seunghyun and reader are down bad, smut (over the phone, in the car, oral f receiving, dirty talk, foreplay, p in v), and some inevitable typos.

requested? no, this is an original idea! this was initially inspired by the mention of old school love in this song by zayn. i've always heard of the concept, and this is my take on it, told through vignettes of gentle young love. please request something if you'd like, and don't hesitate to check my pinned post. i love this man tenderly. please tell me you see the vision. enjoy!

new year's eve 2007. there's still three hours to midnight, and seunghyun's wondering why he chose to wear a hoodie with long sleeves underneath to a crowded house party. luckily he's got his own corner of the compact living room, standing between two friends he hitched a ride with there—his third being the host—so he aptly distracted himself from how hot it was with their banter as best he could, laughing into his red solo cup before taking a swig of whatever concoction his friend mixed for him in the kitchen earlier tonight. he hid his soured expression over the taste well, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. seunghyun remembers asking for a rum and coke, and he can definitely taste the latter ... but he'd know his enemy smirnoff anywhere ... it was way too stuffy to move, so he humbly took the loss.

"there you fuckin' are!" seunghyun looked up to see jiyong, the one hosting who already looked as if the night had taken its toll. "holy shit, man. i've been looking everywhere for you guys!" seunghyun had to squint to hear him over the loud music. the fact there wasn't much lighting besides a few lamps and multi-colored rotating disco party lights didn't help either. "c'mon. she just got here—in the kitchen." jiyong motioned his head to the left, the trio following him into the crowd. the kitchen was much more well lit and slightly less congested, but seunghyun nonetheless had to put his weight against the fridge to grant enough room to stand comfortably. he offered a polite grin and wave to the friend group mainly comprised of women his age in front of him, the one in the middle introduced as jiyong's girlfriend. you were closest to the counter, the left of everyone, cracking open a hard seltzer you picked from the cooler stationed beside the sink. you grimaced after taking a sip, bringing the can to your eyes to see the flavor that wronged you: lime. "christ, that's horrible." you shook your head, expression soured.

seunghyun didn't overhear, because he was too busy looking over his shoulder in amazement upon hearing one of his suggestions for the party mixtape blare throughout the house. reverting his attention back with a smug grin on his face, his eyes fluttered past you tugging at the collar of your sweater, pulling at it repeatedly for what looked to be air flow. seunghyun wondered if the party felt like an oven to you, too, and if you overdressed like him, because he started fanning himself without realizing.

an hour later, he couldn't take it anymore. "be right back, i'm going out for a smoke." he told a friend sat beside him on the couch. he could not have cared less that it was below freezing outside, or that the leftovers from the snow storm three weeks ago had probably frozen over into patches of black ice littering the deck—he needed to cool off. he closed the sliding door with a relieved huff, the party now muffled. the feet of his sneakers crunched against the snow, hands pushing his hood off his head, fingers brushing through his sweaty hair. "holy shit." he muttered to himself, pulling his sleeves up to his elbows. seunghyun could see his breath when he exhaled, and goosebumps rose along his bare arms, but as far as he was concerned, he would stay out here to ring in the new year if it meant he wouldn't have to suffer a heatstroke inside. he walked to a spot behind the wooden railing framing the entirety of the deck, his hand reaching into his pocket for his marlboros. he took out a cigarette, hanging it between his lips, searching for his lighter next. it was then he looked up and saw you standing at your own spot along the railing some feet away, having looked over your shoulder to see who else had come outside.

it was too late to ignore, or act like you didn't see each other, so he did the favor of making things less awkward. or trying to, as any twenty-something year old hopes: seunghyun took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth. "hi," he spoke uncharacteristically quietly. "you're—" thank the universe he remembered her name, because the irrational nerves over making conversation were mounting quickly. "—friend, right?" you nodded. "you're jiyong's?" you asked. he smiled, nodding too. "i'm seunghyun. we met earlier, in the kitchen?" his tone asked if you remembered, his hand gesturing to the sliding door. "yes!" you responded a bit more enthusiastically than you intended to in your head, internally cringing. "i remember, i remember." you said, nodding. you didn't know what else to do. seunghyun must've felt the same, because he nodded at nothing.

you looked away from him, feeling flustered. he mimicked, hands balled up in his pockets. "you—" he cleared his throat. "you liking the party?" "hm?" you didn't expect him to continue the conversation. "yeah!" here you went again, sounding animated to the point that even he, a complete stranger, could tell you were over-compensating. "i mean," you let out a breath, shrugging your shoulders. "its okay. i don't really go to parties often, so i guess i could say i misjudged how hot it'd be to show up in a sweater with a thermal underneath." seunghyun exhaled through his nose, an upside down grin tugging at his lips. "i know." he agreed. "hot as shit in there, bro." you chuckled. "hot as shit indeed."

silence brewed. seunghyun didn't turn away, so you took it as your turn to fill the air. you pulled out the only card you had (bringing up a mutual friend,) even if he'd done so already: "how long have you—" the sudden dryness of your throat was certainly a sign from the universe to shut up, but it was too late to cut yourself off completely. you swallowed, continuing: "how long have you known jiyong?" "since we were kids. middle school, i think." seunghyun doesn't know why he implied he didn't know, because he certainly did. he also wondered why he nodded, again, at nothing. who boldfaced lied when they said your preteen years were the most awkward? because he wanted to curl into a ball right the fuck now. he was usually fine at making small talk, what was the difference now? why couldn't he stop nodding?? "how about you?" oh, great. now his voice was a noticeable octave higher, clearing his throat.

you knew what he meant. "we met each other our freshman year. she was in my first year seminar, and we kind of just clicked." "you go to school around here?" "mhm," you nodded. "the university that everyone we know goes to, it feels like." you quipped, making that upside down grin appear on his face again. "how about you?" "the community college that no one goes to." he answered, voice back to normal. "but i'm in the middle of transferring there, funnily enough." then ushered in another characteristically young adult conversation: your studies. it was standard and harmless. even so, you came across a different reason to break a sweat despite the bitter cold beginning to numb your cheeks, or the sharp, quick breaths through your periodically chattering teeth. seunghyun took a step closer to you in the midst telling an anecdote about the last exam he had before the holiday break, inadvertently putting himself in your direct line of view. you realized not only oh, wow. he's pretty tall, to yourself, lifting your head a little to look at him, but also oh, wow. he's pretty cute, when your eyes met. or when he continued looking at you, because he finished saying his piece some seconds ago, yet you hadn't said anything. the fleeting silence only made you become more flustered, really coming to terms with just how fine he is; all clashing with how you have no idea how to talk to someone this attractive.

"yeah, that sounds fucked up." you attempted to mask the fact that you did not process a word of what he just said with a chuckle, gaze lowering momentarily to your hands, tugging at your sleeves to shield them from the cold, or just to do something. the words felt foreign in your mouth—your inner monologue making you feel like you were trying too hard—though you weren't allergic to profanity whatsoever. seunghyun smirked to himself, his own gaze falling to the snowy deck, until you spoke: "i had, like, three exams all in one day—the day before break." you said, glancing up at him before chickening out, reverting back to your hands which were completely engulfed by your knit sweater. your thumb poked out of the sleeve, nail picking at a fraying thread. "i guess i'm still feeling the repercussions of it." the volume of your voice dwindled somewhat coupled your shy grin, your shoulders shrugging, looking up at him. even through his chuckle with a smile making the corners of his eyes kiss, or his affirming "its brutal. i get that.," you mentally berated yourself: holy shit, is that the best i can do? just continue talking about school? get yourself together!

the next bout of silence lasted for at most ten seconds, but with how you were scrambling, it felt like years; working against an invisible timer. unbeknownst to him, this was seunghyun's turn to look at you. the only word coming to mind was sweet. he was smart enough to put two-and-two together as to why you were, admittedly, visibly nervous as he's had a girlfriend before. he wasn't the type to use that to inflate his ego, but found it charming nonetheless. seeing the curvature of your cheeks when you looked down made his heart soften—his lips molding into that damn knowing grin—and it could've very well been the minute gust of wind, but the glint in your eyes when you looked at him, nodding politely ... he was a little taken aback. you were devastatingly adorable.

your eye caught the cigarette in his hand. "you smoke?" you blurted out without an iota of a thought, so quick that your tone was almost bland—a moment where the subconscious beat rationale. oh my god. you momentarily closed your eyes, shocked at yourself. are you kidding me? seunghyun held in a laugh, trying his best to wipe his smile off his face when you opened your eyes. you mistook it as a sign of second-hand embarrassment. "oh my god. i'm so sorry, i don't know why i said—" "—it's okay, you're good." seunghyun shook his head as further affirmation, waving his free hand. he had completely forgotten he was still holding the cigarette, anyway. "but, yeah. i do. sometimes." his face started to feel warm. not because he felt shamed, or belittled, or judged, but because he caught sight of your eyes again. he could've sworn they'd grown in the last fifteen seconds. "d—do you?" he suddenly became very aware of how deep his voice is. "my voice has always sounded like this." he explained, gesturing to his throat. he knew he was being irrational, but like you before, it was too late to cut himself off. "i'm not like—uh—dying, or anything." he brushed off with an animated chuckle.

you felt like the worst person in the world. the nervous smile on your face didn't move a millimeter. "i don't." you shook your head. "and it's okay! i didn't mean to—i like your voice." your eyes widened. seunghyun raised his eyebrows. "you do?" he couldn't hide his smile. he returned the boldness, even if yours was a slip of the mouth. "i like your face." he meant it. there isn't a timeline out there where that wouldn't be the truth. your surprised expression made him exhale through his nose, an admiring grin on his face. oh, he wanted you. flashes ran through his head: squishing what looked to be the softest cheeks in the world between his palms, pulling you close to his chest to help you warm up; pressing his cheek against yours as a makeshift heater since you've truly made him that flustered, and how you'd react upon him calling you "my girl." sure, he was moving a little quickly, considering he's just realized he never asked for your name, but that's what just crushes do. seunghyun could not help the dream-like state he entered, placing his hand on the railing, the unlit cigarette slipping from his fingers, lost in the grass below. you, on the other hand, were speechless. never before have you ever been flirted with—this was flirting, right? like, you weren't misreading anything, or making shit up? "you ... you do?"

before seunghyun could answer, the sliding door opened, the ruckus of the party no longer blocked out. "seunghyun!" it was jiyong. "it's thirty minutes 'til the ball drop. i need help setting up the champagne." jiyong saw you, nearly cowering at seunghyun's scathing look reading are you fucking serious? "m-my bad, you guys." jiyong laughed awkwardly, putting a hand up in surrender. "seunghyun, just come in whenever." the door closed, leaving you two alone again. you were sheepish out of your goddamn mind, unable to look at seunghyun, content with the fact that your eyes may just stay on the deck forever. "i meant it, by the way." you looked up. "hm?" "i like your face." seunghyun repeated. your full smile that appeared ... his knees might have buckled. "oh," a giggle left your lips. yeah, he was a goner. "thank you. i ... i like your face, too." your voice was gentle. it felt indescribable, flirting back. you weren't sure if you were doing it right, considering you were suddenly really interested in the shape of your pointer finger's nail bed right about now, thwarting this fire-pit of feelings in your chest ... to be desired, chatted up, or pursued like this ... by a fine ass man nonetheless ... after being sidelined for your whole life, watching your friends experience something you wanted so badly too. oh my goodness—maybe your friends weren't just trying to make you feel better when they told you ad nauseam that it comes when you least expect it. because out of everything, and you mean everything you expected to happen tonight, this wasn't even in the realm of the realm of the utmost realm of possibilities.

you warded off wanting to hold his hand by interlacing your fingers together. seunghyun couldn't stop the stupidly big smile stretching across his face if he tried. "cool," he said, nodding. "that's .... that's cool." his hand came up, scratching the back of his neck. "listen, i .. uh—" he gestured to the door. "i gotta go back inside and help jiyong with the—with the champagne. could i get your number? i'll call you tomorrow, if that's okay with you." "yes!" your heart stammered over how he smiled so big his eyes smiled with him. seunghyun gave you his nokia flip phone, letting you type your number in. "call yourself so you can have my number, too." said seunghyun, pulling his sleeves back down. you did so, satisfied hearing your phone ring, pulling it out of your pocket to end the call. "i never got your name." he said, putting his phone back into his pocket. when you told him, he didn't stop his inner monologue from adding his surname. call it a random impulsive thought or whatever, but he was being serious. "i'll see you inside?" he asked, halfway through walking to the door. "mhm!" you responded. "see you inside." seunghyun smiled, disappearing back into the party. you missed his fine ass already . . .

so there you were, the next evening, repeatedly glancing at your phone. you felt fine for a majority of the day; sleeping in after coming home late the night previous, treating your hovering hangover with plentiful amounts of water and falling asleep yet again, but within the first hour of fellowship of the ring (it was your first time in recent years defying your self-made new year's tradition), and hurriedly bringing your phone within eyesight if it did so much as beep. you wondered if seunghyun would actually call . . . it all seemed too good to be true . . . and you hoped that he'd just magically show up, looking over your shoulder and out the living room window for his car (did he even have one?) and walk up to your door (he hasn't the faintest clue where you live) with a bouquet of roses (he doesn't know they're your favorites. well, at least not yet) to profess his undying love to you (working on that too. the to do list is in your head). so when your phone rang after dinner, your hair still very much wet from your shower; the towel having just been thrown behind your desk chair, you momentarily froze. you grabbed your phone from your desk, confused by the unknown number. but then you recognized the area code as your own, realising that in the midst of your yearning, you completely forgot to save his number.

you pressed the answer button, bringing your phone to your ear. "hello?" "hey!" my goodness, it wasn't too good to be true. "happy new year! i wasn't able to find you after the ball dropped. so, yeah. here's me wishing you." he descended into a short, slightly nervous chuckle. he was looking for me!? oh my god!? "happy new year," you said back, closing your bedroom door. "you were looking for me? i left at around two, i think. how about you?" "five, maybe." seunghyun dodged the other question, his face already feeling warm not even a full minute in. "jiyong needed help cleaning up, and kicking people out." "five!?" you exclaimed, sitting on the edge of your bed. "and here i was, fighting sleep all day, whereas you sound unscathed." seunghyun laughed heartily. "i slept in until, like, two today. so i wouldn't say i was completely unaffected." "that's fair." you nodded, despite him not being able to see.

"how about you, hm?" he asked, voice smooth and low, even over the grainy audio. "did you sleep good?" "i did. better than usual." seunghyun smirked, fingers toying with the drawstring cords of his sweatpants. "how about you?" he heard your sweet voice ask. "i slept good, too. knowing i'd be talking to you the next day." you hid your eyes behind your palm, elbow resting atop your thigh. how you were able to get words out, you had no idea. "seunghyun," he could hear that on a loop for the rest of his life and he would die a happy man. "you can't just say shit like that." "why not?" the gentle, yet teasing lilt to his words made you feel dizzy. it was as if the universe finally aligned in your favor. what he would do to see the look on your face right now . . . "what? have you never been flirted with, or something?" he quipped playfully without much thought. "i haven't, no." you answered truthfully. "but you still can't say shit like that, seunghyun. i need a warning or something. it's like my mind stops working." you chuckled, pressing your phone to your ear like its the last thing you'll ever do.

seunghyun's eyebrows flinched in and out of a furrow. "no one's ever flirted with you? what do you mean?" the question aired out before thinking. the realised insensitivity of his words coupled with the unintended belittling tone made him backtrack almost immediately: "that was low of me to say. i'm sorry, that's my bad completely." he shook his head completely. "it's okay!" you shook your head, too. "you didn't know. it's fine." you took a breath. "but if we're being honest . . . no. i've never done anything like that before. i'm more used to seeing it happen to other people than experiencing it, if that makes sense." "it does." seunghyun was quick to affirm, nodding whilst he listening to your words carefully. "yeah," your palm slid up and down your thigh, subconsciously trying to self-sooth. "so . . . last night, when we were talking . . . i thought you were making fun of me. or pulling my leg. but then i realised my brain just wasn't letting me accept that . . . oh, this guy might think i'm cute, too." "i do. i do think that." seunghyun sat up in his bed, determined. "i would never do that. i'm not that type of guy. i don't know who you've met, or made you feel like this, but know i'm not like that."

there was a brief moment of silence from your end of the call. "are you sure you're not just saying that to me to be nice?" "of course not." he said sincerely, tone soft. "of course i'm not saying it to be nice. i mean it. i'll be honest, when i met you last night, you have some of the most kissable cheeks i've ever fucking seen." he pulled his legs up to sit criss-cross. this was serious to him. "how about when you casually mentioned you won an award for a policy paper you wrote about education? i didn't know i'd be at the same party as the future president." "oh my god!" you laughed, face feeling as if it was ablaze. "you're crazy." "look, people have decided to miss out on you, but i won't. are you free on friday? no—scratch that, we're on break until next week. are you free tomorrow?"

for the first time in your life, you didn't feel the need to convince yourself you were worthy of romance, because the universe rooted for you, too. "i am. all day." you said. "i'll take you to dinner. do you want to see a movie?" "i like them, yeah. but . . . i mean, i was watching fellowship of the ring earlier today." just say it. he's right there, on the other side of the line. just say it. ". . . but, i like talking to you. i'd—" you cleared your throat. "i'd rather do that then wait two hours to—uh—do so, if that makes sense." your palm started soothing your thigh again. seunghyun had the stupidest smile on his face. he refrained from hiding his head underneath his pillow. "but we can watch a movie! next time! if that's . . . if that's what you want!" your eyes closed in defeat, hiding your face from no one. "oh god, i'm digging myself into a hole here. i have no idea how to do this." "you're doing really well." said seunghyun. "enough to make my face feel like i have the highest fever ever." "you too." you responded sheepishly. "we'll finish fellowship of the ring on our second date. it's my favorite after return of the king, anyway." you hit the jackpot. "okay," you responded, how fucking sweet you sounded made his heart palpitate. "sounds good, seunghyun. i can't wait."

three months later, you beginning to feel those love songs you've heard all your life were onto something. something you come to terms with would pass you by as a way to cope—but here he was now, bending down onto his knee in the middle of a busy bookstore to tie your shoelace; buying the cds of your favorite artists that you mention either intentionally or off-the-cuff, downloading them to his ipod to listen in between lectures, doing coursework, or storing them into his cd wallet in the center console of his car to listen on his way to pick you up; or spending a lot of his time kissing those precious cheeks ("you're so sweet, you know that? so pretty, too." "seunghyun . . ." "see, that's what i mean.") he's a very smooth talker, doting, and affectionate. primarily because he cannot get enough of the look on your face whenever he makes a move, but also because you breath more life into him when he does so. to seunghyun's fault, however, he can get a little ahead of himself, and forget how shy you can be. so when the tension had been brewing throughout the entirety of your third date, you two sat in bashful silence in his car, him parked some feet away from your house. the music had since been lowered; one of the many cds he's bought since you started dating. seunghyun leaned over the center console towards you, only to retract somewhat when he heard a small gasp. "i'm sorry," he said. "did i—was that too quick?" "no, no. it's okay." you nodded in reassurance. "i just . . . i've just never kissed anyone before. sorry, i know that probably sounds really annoying by now." your hands were in your lap, thumb running over your knuckles to thwart the warmth traveling up your neck.

seunghyun shook his head. "its not. i told you its not." he said sincerely. its true, he has told you that it is and will never be a problem. how he giggles over the phone and presses kisses onto the back of your hand whenever he holds it serves as testament, but that voice in your head can be a bit louder. "i want to." you tell him, eyes meeting with his. seunghyun looked so fine it was almost offensive; his grown out black hair and choppy bangs messily framing his face albeit with effortless charm. he's told you he thinks it makes him look weird, hence how often he wears beanies and puts his hood up, but the moment you muttered "i think it makes you look really handsome," over the phone two nights ago, he showed up tonight letting it breath no problem. "but i don't know how." you told him, shaking your head. "its okay, baby," seunghyun reassured tenderly. it was the first time he called you that pet name, but he didn't think twice as it felt akin to natural instinct to call you that. you, on the other hand, were struggling to keep it together in the passenger's seat. i only have so much strength as a woman . . . you thought to yourself.

"we'll take it slow. just close your eyes and take a breath for me, okay? the rest'll come naturally. i promise." "okay." you nodded, trusting him. seunghyun leaned in again. you saw his eyes glance at your lips before returning to yours, your lids darkening your vision only when his nose brushed against yours. his lips were soft and wet as he had licked them before kissing you. yours were so fucking warm against seunghyun's, making him want to kiss you all the more harder, but he steadied himself, reconnecting gently. the side of his nose nestled against yours. "how was that?" he whispered. the cd had finished playing, so the car was quiet besides you and him. "good." you whispered back. "how did i . . . how did i do?" "good," he nodded, glancing at your lips again. "just . . . try kissing me back. don't think about it," your felt his hair tickle your forehead as he shook his head. "i know you'll be good."

to his delight, you were the one that closed the small gap between you. the kiss was so soft, almost nurturing; all the more intoxicating. you reconnected the kiss, pressing your lips onto his in a way that made his arms feel like tv static. "a little softer." he murmured, half-talking to you, but more-so to himself to come down. seunghyun went to kiss you again, but his lips landed on the corner of your opened mouth. "i-i'm sorry." "no, no. it's okay, baby," he tutted softly. christ, that fucking voice of his was going to end you one day. "come here. come here, baby." he got your lips back on his, but you broke it again, obscenely flustered. your heartbeat was in your temples, your palms sweaty in your lap. "seunghyun," you pleaded in that voice he would go to fucking war for. "you can't just call me that." "i can, and i will." he said. "now, come here, baby."

his hand reached over, holding both of yours beneath his palm. you brought a hand up to his jaw when he kissed you, feeling him hum against your lips in encouragement. seunghyun tilted his head a little to the left, deepening the kiss but not by too much, monitoring your reaction. his muscles relaxed upon feeling your exhale through your nose brush along his cheeks. the kiss ceased after a few moments by you once again, only this time to catch your breath. he rested his forehead against yours, breathless himself. "you're really good at this." he said, heartbeat stuttering when he heard your quiet "thank you." seunghyun blurted out this next question without much thought or reason, since he imagined the moment where he asked this to be more romantic, but he simply could not hold himself back: "can i—can i be your boyfriend?"

"yes, yes you can." you responded. both of your hands now held either side of his face, feeling his hand squeeze your thigh a little. "you can be my boyfriend, seunghyun." a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "i'll—i'll get you flowers and card, and ask you more properly next time." "its okay, its fine." you nodded against his forehead. your thumb traced his bottom lip, "just kiss me right now. i—i need—" you did not need to tell him twice. seunghyun reunited your lips, hand gripping your thigh when your fingers slipped into his hair.

even though you were well over the appropriate age to start dating, you just knew your parents would freak out if they knew you were running around with a boy. you didn't even think to employ the thought; it just wasn't an option. it would be something about distracting yourself from your studies (your grades were nowhere near subpar), or moving too quickly (hey! you're in college, by the way), or being subject to the ongoing mass, unreasonable hysteria over teen pregnancy perpetuated by national news editorials and shitty reality shows, making parents believe by standing near the opposite sex their daughters will somehow be with child (again, you're in your twenties and in college, and its also not your fault parents around the country treat mtv like its the second coming of the satanic panic of the eighties)—so you saved yourself the trouble. seunghyun understood wholeheartedly and took no issue with it, but that doesn't mean he didn't dare go against the grain.

a week before your two month anniversary, your ringtone rang, slightly muffled atop your duvet. you got up from your desk chair, leaving your coursework behind and walked to your bed, clicking the green call button. "hi seunghyun," your voice was soft. "everything okay?" "hey baby," he said. "i'm good, i'm good." he stuffed his free hand into the pocket of his puffer jacket, shivering. "how was your day, hm? i missed you." "fine," you answered, keeping your phone to your ear by raising your shoulder, flipping your textbook to the next chapter you needed to read to complete an assignment. "just a lot of work to do. you know how sundays are. i missed you, too." "i know, baby." his hand left his pocket, using the side of his thumb to wipe his nose. "you know, i'm happy to hear that you missed me, because i'm outside." you raised your head, alarmed, eyebrows knit in confusion. "what do you mean you're outside?" "i mean that i'm outside." "outside where?" "your window." his laugh was masked with a cough. "shit—it's really cold out here, baby." he muttered, looking around at the street lamps, his car parked some distance away. your room was on the lower floor of your family's home; the window on the side of the house and had some height to it, but not enough to ward off seunghyun's idea. so here he was, acting on it.

you hurriedly closed your bedroom door. "are you crazy!?" you whispered. "it's freezing outside! how long have you been out there?" "about ten minutes," seunghyun's tone was calm, as if it was just another day. "there isn't that much distance between your house and the street, but it took a while because i had to avoid the frozen over snow." "you're insane." you muttered. he smiled even wider. "let me see you, baby. c'mon. i miss you." you hung up the call. seunghyun watched the window before him, his upside down grin showing proudly when the curtains opened, revealing you. the snow crunched crisply underneath his feet, walking up when you unlocked and opened the window. "you're utterly insane," you said, resting your elbows on the windowsill, hearing him laugh. "its almost midnight. we both have class early tomorrow, and my parents could wake up at any moment!" you voice descended into a loud whisper. seunghyun waved his hand dismissively. "what did i tell you the other night? i'll drive you. you don't need to take the bus anymore." he spoke quietly, understanding the circumstance, even if he enjoyed teasing you. "you know what else you did the other night that you could've done now? call me." you retorted, but it was really hard to act upset. "you don't like my gesture?" he asked, not hiding his knowing smirk. "i'm saying you saw me two days ago, and you're seeing me every day before our anniversary." "i'd see you every hour in between, if i could."

you didn't have anything smart to say, so you succumbed to your flustered state. seunghyun, looking so princely in his puffer jacket with no beanie in sight, the distant cast of your nightside table lamp weakly illuminating his slightly reddened cheeks from the bitter cold, stepped closer. "give me a kiss and i'll go, baby. just needed to see you." your knees nestled onto the carpeted floors, your torso leaning out the window. seunghyun grabbed onto the ledge, hoisting himself onto the tips of his toes. it was enough for his head to be leveled with your bedroom, but not for long as his eyes fluttered closed to the feeling of your palms holding his face, bringing your lips to his in a tender, sweet kiss. his chin brushed against the ledge, tightening his grip when he re-connected the kiss, feeling his mouth thaw from the cold and ignoring how his under arms were beginning to burn. "can't last twelve hours without you." he murmured against your lips. "learn to." you whispered, kissing him back. "don't wanna." seunghyun took a quick breath when you kissed him one last time, the soft squeak of your lips parting making him feel light-headed.

he watched you in a daze when you returned to resting your elbows against the windowsill; you were as beautiful as a deity, so effortless with your allure. a content smile appeared on his face, eyes twinkling. "thank you, baby." his voice was smooth, turning his head to kiss your palm upon your fingers fixing his hair. he slowly let go of the ledge, paying no mind to how his palms ached. he glanced below him, "i'm sure if i bring a step stool big enough, it'll be no problem next time—" "—next time?" seunghyun looked up. "what? you don't want there to be a next time?" he asked, that goddamn teasing lilt in his voice. "i . . . i do." you spoke so sweetly, he thought he could muster the strength to jump inside. "but at least tell me ahead of time so you won't freeze to near fucking death."

seunghyun kept his word, because the night after your anniversary, he was back outside your window equipped with a step stool. thus began your very risky sneaking around: his arrival at your window at around 10 pm (or thirty minutes later if you went on a date, giving you enough time to return home without suspicion over where you've been, shower, and get ready for bed; either way, he was waiting for your signal of opening the curtains), speed walking to your window after locking his car, step stool in the other hand, climbing into your room after you opened your window, and settling beside you in bed. you spoke in the quietest of whispers, giggled into each other's shoulders, and shared delicate kisses. other times, you brought out your portable dvd player, snuggling into his chest whilst his arms wrapped around you. "my baby. my beautiful girl." he murmured into your supple skin before planting kisses on your forehead, laying his head atop yours. you two read the subtitles in peaceful silence—not daring to raise the volume—either fighting sleep or keeping awake with each other's lips.

he usually left at around one, but one night on the cusp of four months together, both of you fell asleep. you stirred awake, feeling the dvd player lodged uncomfortably underneath your thigh, gradually turning onto your side. seunghyun was in sound slumber, breaths coming in quiet, but curt whistles. your room wasn't completely dark, squinting at the lamp you forgot to turn off next to your bedside digital clock. you jolted awake upon seeing the time: 4:17 AM. "oh my god—" you murmured to yourself, yanking the duvet off of you and getting up in a panic. you turned to seunghyun's sleeping state in utmost dread, remembering he's a deep sleeper, and its a battle to wake him up. "fuck!" you whispered. you tried to think of something, lifting to the duvet further, spotting his ipod and wired headphones. you grabbed it, seeing it there was still half charge. you turned seunghyun's head upright, lodging the headphones in his ears. you scrolled through his library briefly, turning the dial to amp up the volume. "i'm sorry." you whispered apologetically, clicking play.

he stirred awake, sitting up on his elbows, headphones falling out of his ears. "whhaa—" "seunghyun? seunghyun, baby? its four in the morning." you whispered. he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. "its four am?" he mumbled, voice riddled with slumber, sounding lower than usual. "yes, baby," you whispered, the bed dipping next to him as you sat. "we fell asleep. i—i don't think my parents came in. but you have to go home." "i know. i know, baby." seunghyun mumbled, pushing the duvet off his jeans. "just—just give me a moment." "thank you." your hand lay on his cheek, bringing the closer one to your lips. seunghyun puckered his lips, still lost in his lingering sleep, humming lowly in satisfaction when he felt your chaste kiss. he climbed out of bed, leaving his ipod behind, stuffing his feet into his shoes by the window. you unlocked it, hearing him yawn, his palm covering his mouth. "i'll come back at ten." he told you, more awake than before. "okay." you spoke softly, entering his usual embrace, your arms wrapping around one another. "i'll see you then. call me when you get home." "i will, my beautiful girl." his breath was hot against your temple—your height only barely reaching his shoulder—pressing a kiss onto your skin before you lifted your head, bringing your lips to his. his thumb kept your chin in place, kissing you back. "i love you, baby." "i love you too, seunghyunie." with that, he climbed out of your window. he grabbed the step stool, walking to his car. the sunrise peered over your neighborhood, only to be shunned out with the closing of your window and drapes. it wasn't until you tucked the dvd player and his ipod away in your nightside drawer did you realize . . . wait . . . we just said i love you.

weekends are typically reserved for dates which largely consist of getting coffee, taking the train into the city to visit museums (and seunghyun nudging his forehead into your temple shyly whenever you lock your arm with his), or passing time walking throughout the mall; looking through various shops and boutiques with your hand in his (and him keeping his gaze on the kay jewelers for a little longer than he intended), sitting next to you as opposed to across during dinner, and ending the night by making out in the backseat of his car. your hand on his cheek, his on your thigh; tongues in fair play. you broke the kiss to look at the small analog clock on his dashboard, biting your bottom lip when his lips found their usual spot on your neck, barely hiding your whimper. "fuck." he muttered, moving to the other side of your neck. his hands rested on either of your hips, humming in content upon feeling your fingers find his hair. "s-seunghyun," you fought to keep your eyes open. "it's 11:10. i have to go inside." "your parents can wait five more minutes." he said. the feeling of his voice vibrating against your skin made your eyes roll back, thighs rubbing together. a small gasp reverberated through the car when seunghyun started running his tongue repeatedly over a spot of your warm skin, sucking and popping off of it. "i really have to go inside—" "—at least let me finish this, baby. the last one healed too quickly." "o-okay," you let out a shaky breath, holding the back of his head, letting your eyes flutter closed. "don't make it too big." "i won't."

sundays were spent at the university library. you two are in your own worlds, sharing a spacious table with various pieces of coursework, required readings, and notebooks sprawled out in a way that only makes sense to your respective minds—seunghyun with his hood up, wired headphones in and reading glasses on. your pen cap between your teeth whilst you read the third of five passages for an upcoming essay you had due; back and forth between taking notes and highlighting lines. you didn't study together much during the week since your lectures did not align most days. but on the mornings where it did, neither of you having classes until the afternoon, seunghyun came over no matter the time he slept or if he was there the night previous, but neither of you studied. he meant it when he said he would spend every hour with you if he could, because he wakes up early just to be with you. it doesn't matter if its to fall right back asleep in your bed after your parents left for work at nine, he was there.

his personal favorites were early saturday afternoons (bonus points if you were going to a party later that night): him laying on top of you, his temple against your chest, taking a nap. he would fall asleep to the sound of you turning the pages of your book, coupled with the steady rise and fall of your chest. by the sound of his quiet snores, you started to feel sleepy by proxy. you would give in after nearly dropping the paperback book on his head, putting it aside on your bedside table. your hand reached down your side for his hand, fishing it out of the warm duvet to set an hour timer on his watch. you brought the pads of his fingers to your lips, kissing them softly before nestling in for your own nap, holding your baby close to you.

you loved and trusted each other to the point of peaceful co-existence. you and seunghyun were alone in the house one saturday evening; him in your room, you in the bathroom down the hall. you were going to a mutual friend's party to dually celebrate both her birthday and the end of finals week that night. your bedroom door was wide open, seunghyun overhearing the rustling of your makeup bag as his eyes looked through your shelf of cds. songs in a minor, alicia keys .... everyone else is doing it, so why can't we?, the cranberries .... b'day, beyoncé .... parachutes, coldplay .... his copy of pink floyd's dark side of the moon that he lent you a couple weeks ago .... grace, jeff buckley .... until he came across the miseducation of lauryn hill towards the front of the shelf, carefully pulling it out and opening the case. he placed the cd in your player on the shelf below, closing the lid and pressing play. he skipped to track 4, lowering the volume to have it blend seamlessly into the background, feeling content.

"seunghyun?" "yeah, baby?" he called back. he turned around, seeing you at the doorway, holding two eyeliner pencils in your hand. "which one: black or dark brown?" he walked over, taking the pencils from your hands, looking them over his palm. "hm. . ." he pondered with genuine thought. "this one is metallic," you pointed to the dark brown liner. "so it has a little shine to it." "i remember," seunghyun nodded. "you wore this one when we went for brunch a couple weeks ago. it looked really pretty." "thank you." you said quietly, glancing down at the carpet. you still felt flustered receiving his compliments, even nearly half a year into your relationship. "so the brown liner, then?" "mhm." "okay. thank you, my love." your hands reached up to his face, bringing him in for a quick kiss. "anything for you, my beautiful girl." said seunghyun, placing purposeful kisses onto your temple and cheek.

you took the liners from him, your sweet laughter ringing in his ears as his arms made residence around your waist, pulling you close to him. your arms took in his shoulders, giggling at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing a part of your exposed shoulder from the loose collar of your shirt. "my beautiful, beautiful girl." he murmured into your soft skin, kissing your lips once more. you loved how clingy he could be . . . though he would look like a deer in headlights, melting into a puddle of his own pride if it was pointed out. he loved being called seunghyunie. better yet, add "my" in front of that, and he'll have to take laps around the room. he's buried his head into your neck on many nights he snuck over, or even in his own bed, hiding his bashful state with incoherent mutterings of anything from "i'm going to go into heart failure early in my life" to "you make me lose all reason, and i love it."

you kissed him back, feeling his tongue collide with yours. seunghyun went in again, but you parted your lips, turning your head as a smile stretched across your face, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. "you're my big baby." you said sweetly, looking up at him. "my big, tall baby, seunghyunie. how's that, hm?" you erupted into a fit of giggles when seunghyun's forehead fell against your temple—a tell-tale sign that you hit the right bashful nerve—that, as far as seunghyun was concerned, sounded a whole lot like wedding bells. "baby . . ." he elongated his last syllable, voice so low it took a moment to understand. "see? you're already living up to the name." you said. your arms slid off the back of his shoulders, hands resting atop them as best they could whilst you held the liners, briefly standing on your toes to kiss his lips. "i have to go get ready." seunghyun's arms left your waist, resting on your hips. "i like the nickname." he admitted in a murmur. "i know." you nodded. "and i love you, too." "i love you so much." seunghyun couldn't help himself, lips peppering kisses onto the supple skin of your cheek, planting a final one on your lips.

one thing about seunghyun is he loves parties, but none more than being able to show you off. so when he's sat on one of the stools lining the host's kitchen island, you stood between his legs, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his are tenderly around your waist; hands traveling your lower back—he feels like the hottest shit because he's got the hottest fucking girl. he will unabashedly pepper sweet kisses onto your neck and cheek if you're talking to somebody, or press his cheek against yours as you people watch together from your spot in the kitchen; giggling amongst yourselves in a way that would make even a pessimist's heart begin to thaw. it tugs at his heartstrings even more-so when you find him later in the night after catching up with your friends, a little tipsy with your red solo cup in hand, making residence on his thigh. seunghyun carefully took the cup out of your hand after the drink sloshed around in the midst of your abrupt movement, setting it on the coffee table before his hands dotingly rubbed the side of your thigh, looking up at the love of his life. he's long past the point of caring when his friends are around seeing you squish his cheeks together, kissing the pout that forms on his lips with an extra loud "muah!" that can be heard in the few seconds between songs. he's actually the one pulling you into the small crowd of people dancing in the living room, swaying together to the music.

to seunghyun, he might have looked awkward dancing—but to anyone else who caught a glimpse either from squeezing their way through the crowd to get to the other side of the room, or if they just looked up: you and seunghyun looked smooth; complementary; on the same wavelength. it was one of those moments they would recall to your mini-me twenty years down the line, opening the anecdote with "i remember when your parents . . ." he brought his forehead to yours—earning him the flustered laugh he could get drunk on—bringing his lips to yours when you pulled him in by the rims of his beanie. you turned around afterward, pressing your ass against him, starting to dance again. seunghyun got the message. he followed your movements, arm wrapping around the front of your waist, leaning down to kiss your cheek upon feeling your hand reach back for his hair.

seunghyun played a large hand in improving your confidence, especially when it came to intimacy of any kind. you've come a long way from your posture stiffening when he put his arm around you in the movie theater; your ghost of a returned grip when he held your hand; or backing out mid-makeout on his couch because your face felt so hot, the movie paused and long-forgotten about, the dvd logo bouncing from one side of the tv to the other ("i-i'm sorry—" "—it's okay. come back here, you were doing so good.") it wasn't as if you were a brand new person, but he nurtured a different side of you to come out; honored he was the one deemed worthy enough to witness it. he fucking loved it when you were stood in your own corner at a party, feeling dizzy whenever yours hands traveled underneath the hem of his shirt and around his waist . . . holy fuck . . . and the way you kissed him afterward, so soft and slow, deliberate . . . you might as well make him a father right there.

the tension brewed over time. you may be learning things as you go, but you would be remised to not pick up on seunghyun's not-so-subtle ways. every time he readjusted his position in your bed, arms holding you, you felt his hand traveled just a little lower down your hip. his lips kissed your cheek before returning his attention to space documentary he picked up from blockbuster before sneaking over, reading the captions on the portable dvd player propped up atop the duvet. he thought he was being slick. but when the documentary inevitably ended, and you inevitably pulled him into your lips to make him stay longer, his hand slipped underneath, squeezing your right globe. he'll never forget your sharp inhale, or how hard you kissed him in return.

or when you were stood in line at the mall food court (yes, you read that correctly), his fingers holding yours. he was being so sweet and flirtatious, looking at you with an admiring grin whilst you read the menu. he went back and forth between laying his hoodie-clad head atop yours, kissing your cheek, or leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you saw in your periphery how he would stare and stare both longingly and knowingly. you didn't give in, until you couldn't hold it in anymore, failing horrendously at hiding your upside-down grin. "what?" you nudged his bicep with your shoulder, hearing him chuckle. "i'm just looking." he responded, voice smooth. you tsked, shaking your head. "you don't make any sense." his kiss to your temple brought your gaze back to him, looking up when he rested his forehead against yours. "that's because you take all of it from me." seunghyun lined the side of his nose with yours, bringing his lips to yours. he's done this countless times before, but it was how his lips lingered for a second or two that made all the difference . . . how they parted so slowly and deliberately . . . it made you think oh . . . this man may very well want me to have his baby! it wouldn't be far-fetched either, since on your four month anniversary, he told you he was ready to introduce you to his parents after your third date.

then came those saturday mornings . . . or mornings where neither of you had class until the afternoon . . . when you got up from bed, and he sees your shorts have ridden completely up your thighs in your sleep . . . how fucking delectable they look. your back is turned to him as you stretch your arms out and yawn, but seunghyun's stare is unabashed and hard. it starts as a sideways glance, like he doesn't want to get caught. but then he sees how they jiggle with every minute movement . . . he's enamored. he turns onto his side fully, studying how your cellulite adorns your skin so specifically . . . then his palms start to tingle, wanting to reach out and feel you in his hands. but all he does is cast his hand against your crisp bed sheets, wrinkled where you laid just moments ago. seunghyun then notices the slight sheen of your skin when you step into the sunlight pouring in from the window; the remnants of your moisturizer you apply before you sleep, he was sure. this is what makes his teeth rake against his bottom lip, quickly glancing up to see if you were still turned around, which you were. then came those imperfections he wanted so badly to kiss, to linger his tongue over: the small, translucent forever-bruise on the side of your left thigh that never healed; standing in a crowded train after spending the day with each other in the city, temporarily squished against the arm rest of a seat to make room for incoming passengers. your fucking tan line from your go-to denim shorts you wore during the summer jesus christ . . . and how some of your stomach spilled over your shorts, the thick curvature of your body akin to a fucking goddess's. what he would do to be trapped between them . . .

"i'll be right back." your voice took him out of his trance, seunghyun looking up to see you opening the bedroom door, walking to the bathroom down the hall. "okay, baby." his voice was gravely, clearing his throat afterward. seunghyun turned onto his back. he lifted the duvet, peeking underneath to see the bulge in his sweats. he let out a disbelieving huff, running his hands over his face. it's not even ten am yet. he thought to himself. it should be no surprise that when you came back into bed, his lips made residence on yours, hand slipping by your hip and grabbing your ass. seunghyun stopped periodically to place kisses on your chest, or moving the strap of your cami to trace the tip of his tongue along your stretch marks lining your shoulder before kissing them, too. "wanna try something new, baby." he murmured against your skin. "okay," you said, fingers brushing his hair back, watching as his lips returned to your chest. "what is it, seunghyun?" "wanna put these in my mouth—'nd taste you."

you nodded, hair rubbing against your pillowcase. "o-okay," your voice fell to a whisper, the birds chirping outside rivaling your volume. "go ahead, seunghyun." he lifted his head, kissing you. "tell me if it's too much, okay?" "i will." you said, kissing him. a shallow breath left your chest as his lips traveled down your chest. he's fondled your breasts before—in the backseat of his car, and when the portable dvd player is mere background noise, but nothing could have prepared him for now your left breast recoiled when he tugged that side of your cami down. it was so perky, so cute; happy to see him. he captured your areola in his mouth, running his warm tongue over it slowly. he's never heard you gasp like that before. "s—seunghyun!" you barely breathed, shuddering oxygen in and out. he quickly detached—"is it too much—" "—no, no! keep—keep going!" you whimpered, pushing the back of his head back down. he sucked with bliss, readjusting himself when you arched your back, his other hand kneading your right breast. he tugged that side of your cami down, showing that nipple less mercy than the other. "f-fuck!" you gasped, hand coming up to your mouth. "yes, yes! oh my god, seunghyun!" your body squirmed, thighs enclosing around his waist. he needed to move on. if he didn't, he was going to ruin his sweatpants.

he popped off of your hardened nipple gently, bringing his lips to yours. you latched onto him with needy fervor, kissing him quickly. "i'm gonna eat your pussy, okay baby?" he spoke against your lips. you whimpered into his mouth, eyebrows turning upward in desperation, hands holding onto the back of his shoulders. "gonna take care of you. tell me if you want to stop." "o—ngh!—okay." seunghyun pushed the duvet off the both of you, making his way down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. he stood on his knees as he pulled your shorts and underwear off, discarding them on his usual side of the bed. his hand slid down your left thigh, fingers running over that small bruise. he leaned down, pressing a kiss. he moved a couple of inches down the bed, settling his knees onto the carpeted floor, propping the upper-half of his body up with his elbows. you separated your legs. his tongue ran over his bottom lip, mouth watering.

he kissed the inner parts of your thighs, trailing where you needed him most. seunghyun wasted no time after that, plunging his tongue between your puffy folds. oh . . . you tasted good. the sensation was indescribable for you—a curt gasp all you could muster those first few seconds, palm covering your mouth as you devoured the unbelievable sight below you. your eyebrows were so deeply furrowed; a choked moan leaving your diaphragm as his tongue explored your divine essence. seunghyun separated your lips with his pointer and middle finger, trying to find that sweet bundle of nerves. he placed his tongue higher than before, taking note of your gasp. he pushed his head in deeper, knowing he was coming closer when your thighs brushed against his ears. seunghyun hit the jackpot when he pushed in a little deeper, arms quickly wrapping around your waist to keep you as still as he could when your body jolted, thighs closing in on him, effectively putting him in a still-moveable headlock. "o—oh m-my god—ngh! hngh!" you moaned helplessly. "s-seunghyun!" you cried, fingers disappearing into his hair, tugging. "feel good, baby? that feel good?" he asked quickly, voice muffled, not liking going mere seconds without you on his tongue. "y-yes! keep—keep—"

you couldn't finish your sentence, but he needed no further instruction. he nursed your clit unabashedly, his hand reaching up and kneading your right breast. "s-seunghyun, i'm gonna—i feel—" your breathing was heavy, eyes squeezed shut. "cum in my mouth." was all seunghyun said. your legs opened abruptly, back arching higher than before as your orgasm washed over your entire body. seunghyun kept working your clit, popping off of your sweet pussy through your delicate moans and mewls. he swallowed whatever you gave him, humming into you in satisfaction, relishing in how you breathily whined his name. he gradually latched off with tongue-led kisses, palming himself through his sweatpants. he left your pussy swiftly when he felt a wet patch, looking down to see that he, indeed, ruined his sweatpants.

then came a week later, when you made love for the first time at eleven am on a fucking tuesday morning. "breath for me." he told you gently, positioning his condom wrapped tip between your soft, puffy lips. "in," he inhaled through his nostrils, you mimicking. "and out." you exhaled together. he kissed your divine lips, hand coming up and holding your cheek. "my beautiful girl," he whispered. "i love you so much." "i love you too." your hands held the back of his neck, kissing him back. "this might hurt a little. we have all the time in the world. we'll take it easy." his lips pressed against your cheek, hearing your gentle "okay." he slowly pushed himself in, stopping halfway when you held tightly onto his shoulders. "f-fuck, ngh! it . . . it hurts." you whispered. "i know, i know baby." he low voice cooed, his hand holding your cheek, bringing the one closest to him to his lips. "keep going. slowly." "i will."

he thrusted slowly with half of his cock inside of you, listening to your every breath. "any better?" he whispered. he sucked in a tight breath, feeling how tight you are. "a . . . a little. try adding more each time." "anything for you." he kissed your temple, following your words. silence filled the room, nothing but the slight creak of your bed frame, shaky breaths, and rustling of the duvet against the linen. seunghyun's ears perked up when he heard a quiet moan, feeling your nails starting to dig into his bare shoulder. "s-seunghyun . . . m-more." "which one? faster or deeper, baby?" "deeper." you said, voice breathy. your eyebrows twitched as you were mostly adjusted, bottom lip captured between your teeth as he stretched you out. "mmf!" you yelped. "does—f-fuck—that feel g-good?" seunghyun was losing himself in you, struggling to keep his mind clear. "y-yes!" you moaned. "g-go faster, seunghyunie. p-please." "god fucking damn—f-fuck, baby!" he mewled, moaning into your ear. "you feel so fucking g-good, oh my god!" the rest of that morning was a haze of grunts, sweat, and chanting each other's names like prayers. to think you were in your intro to international democracies lecture not even four hours later was obscene.

neither of you trusted yourselves to keep quiet when he came over, but that doesn't mean you at least tried . . . albeit, over the phone. "you drive me fucking crazy, baby—fuck!" his phone fell from his ear, his free hand quickly grabbing it, his other showing little mercy to himself. you could hear the wet, slick sounds of his cock from your side of the line, your thighs trapping your wrist between your legs. "the—the way you—hngh!—l-looked at me from over your shoulder, the way you sounded when i fucked you from b-behind." he spoke into the phone lowly. "you looked so beautiful, and felt so f-fucking good. did it feel good baby, hm? did it feel good when i pounded that sweet pussy?" "s-seunghyun—" you sounded so delicate, so fragile. "i—ngh!—i n-need you so bad. i can't take it anymore." he heard your shaky gasp, sure you were close. "tell me, baby. i know you're close, i can hear it." he moaned hearing you whimper at his words, feeling the knot in his abdomen begin to unravel. "t-tell me—s-shit!—i-i'm, i'm close t-too. tell me, baby. you know you can tell your seunghyunie anything, right?"

when that wasn't enough (it never was), you took it to the backseat of his car. it was an unspoken rule; nonverbal pattern of events when he was to drop you home, but that something was in the air and could not go unaddressed—like the night of your friend's birthday party. he unlocked his trunk, folding the backseats forward to allow enough room for you to lay on your back. in your defense, you tried to keep quiet. you really did . . . considering it was well past one in the morning, your house was one measly block away, and your neighborhood was very much a quiet suburb. but the car was shaking, your toes pressed against the rear windshield, and his hand was slipping off the steaming window. if anyone walked by—universe help your neighbor that worked late shifts and walked his dog at this hour—a vague, passive aggressive memo in the neighborhood newsletter would certainly find you.

the torn condom wrapper fell between the seats, lost in a reach-less nook of the car as seunghyun fucked you deep and good. the sound was wet and mind-numbing, the heel of your left foot resting on his lower back whilst he pummeled you. "f-fuck! just like that, just like that!" you gasped, your moan sounding intoxicatingly needy, fingers rummaging aimlessly through his hair. seunghyun was a sweaty mess, his hair sticking to his forehead as he boiled in his long sleeve. but he could not have given less of a fuck. you felt fucking divine. he needed this, every last second, every last drop. your gummy walls and puffy lips were a blessing he would thank whatever higher force that existed out there for the rest of his life. "just like that? yeah?" he grunted, looking down at the scene, watching his cock disappear and reappear. "s-such f-fucking good pussy—fuck!"

there's a digital camera you both share (he bought it for you for your one year anniversary), housing the archive of your relationship. there's tons of photos on numerous sd cards: a photo of you two kissing in front of a mirror, the camera covering your mouths even after seunghyun's hilariously laborious attempts at angling it correctly, photos of you looking so effortlessly beautiful in your bed; elbow propped on your pillow, palm holding your cheek, the glow of the portable dvd player evident on your face, or one you took of him in his bed after you imitated his low laugh which made him laugh even harder, photos of seunghyun climbing through your window with a shy, unexpected smile on your face or looking cool driving his car, lots of photos with friends, and at parties; one in particular of him pretending to eat your cheek and your wide smile, drink in hand. he can hear your laughter whenever he looks at it.

several months after your two year anniversary, seunghyun found himself at the mall. he was free for the rest of the day whilst you were in for another two lectures. but, of course, he was picking you up for dinner that evening. he perused for your graduation gift; settling for a perfume, a book by your favorite author, and two cds of musicians you loved. like clockwork, his eyes found and stayed on kay jewelers. but unlike before, he walked in. he found the engagement rings with ease, even going as far as to tell the consultant that he was thinking about getting married. however, seunghyun didn't walk out with a ring. he figured well, we should graduate first . . . get jobs . . . move in together . . . and then talk about marriage. he's been locked in since your first kiss, but that's besides the point. but there's no harm in starting to save up for that ring, is there . . .

honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf, @infinetlyforgotten

[worseandworsebytheday]

I had a whole long response typed out and I had to step away and I came back and it was gone so I’m going to have to abridge it because it was a masterpiece of a response and I can’t recreate it. In short elden ring lore is stupid it’s one selfcest god that crafted a bunch of incest demigods (curing mogh and the cursed half brother). The “dungeons” you speak of are mostly just caves and mines with a few legacy dungeons. Some of which are more annoying than interesting. Saying it’s “visually stunning” or whatever is stupid you’re comparing a current game to one over a decade old that honestly still looks great. But even so, simply comparing visuals is hardly a fair argument. Your pot man’s quest wasn’t sad it was stupid. Whack him out of a few holes and then shatter his ass in azula. I felt nothing doing it. Ranni and her ending were at least interesting and her as a character I actually liked. And she lead to the moonlight sword which is a staple of the games. Yes I know bloodborne and dark souls have insane lore but it’s actually good and worth looking into. Your beloved elden ring locations are big empty areas where you will either just wander around doing nothing or get annihilated by a rune bear or T. rex bird every 2 minutes. There’s no engagement. No imagination there. Skyrim had replayability. Multiple quest lines for factions or the open playability to just wander around and make your own story. I’m sorry you lack and and all ability to think outside of a stupidly structured game. The absolutely godawful takes I’ve been getting inundated with the past couple days are avail it’s bullshit I really expected better from all you stupid fucks. You remind me of when I was in highschool and idiots would say halo was better than Metroid because it “defined a genre” completely disregarding what came before. Or that master chief could ever take Samus in a fight simply because he was the newer guy and all they knew. You’re lucky my original reblog got deleted and I’m getting yelled at and this is all I could say back to you otherwise I’d have much better words than you’re a bumbling fucking moron with absolute shit tastes. Go choke on your shit opinions and enjoy your garbage ass fucking game. (I’ll update this post as I remember more things to add on if I do).

When I was mentioning the shitty locations I think I forgot to specifically name drop caelid. Can’t forget FUCKING CAELID SPECIFICALLY.

Also you think the only interesting location in DS1 is he dukes archive?! Motherfucker we got ash lake, the seat of the FUCKING MULTIVERSE. We’ve got, quite literally, hell, izalith. Oh and I don’t know how you got to the archives without passing through anor londo. Because you CAN NOT tell me that place wasn’t fucking stunning. And AND AND the way they BUILT the locations. Seeing izalith and ash lake from the tomb of giants. That not only has LORE REASONS but if you look at the 3D rendering of the maps IT ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY FUNCTIONS AS SUCH. Like literally the world building is top notch and you’re going to downplay ALL OF THIS?!?! Motherfucker get your fucking head out of your motherfucking anus and open your shit crusted eyes at the marvel you downplayed to “one interesting area”. And on top of that “oh boo hop the pot man was so sad” fucking SIF AND ARTORIAS. You want sad fucking...just fucking...now that I took a moment to re skim your response to me now I’m just fucking angry with you you fucking idiot among fucking idiots.

Like really your shit ass Fucking tastes about skyrim are bad enough but to lump bloodborne lore in with elden ring lore and then shit on dark souls world building?? Motherfucker I will physically fight you to the death over this one I’m not even messing around. That’s 3 real games you’ve dragged through the dirt defending the elden trash heap. Fuck all of you.

elder scrolls or elden ring. there is a right answer

Listen I love skyrim, but you have to be a bumbling fucking moron if you think it's better than Elden Ring!!!!

[keitorin3]

So here is a strange idea I had,

So Merlin is Immortal, he can't stay dead, but he does get killed throughout the show in his bid to protect Arthur.

Here's my AU idea:

Every time Merlin dies, a piece of his memories dies with him.

This doesn't affect him much, as he doesn't die often in the beginning, but as time goes on and he gets more desperate to protect Arthur, he becomes more reckless, not realising his lucky escapes after being knocked out was due to him being dead and the perpetrators leaving his corpse.

After all, dead men tell no tales, usually.

With each death, he loses a memory and he wouldn't have noticed, but Arthur does.

Arthur would mention at one point or another about this or that and Merlin wouldn't be able to recall it.

It at first annoys him and makes him point out about Merlin's low intelligence. But as time goes on, he gets concerned when Merlin can't remember certain people or events.

He brings up the time Merlin cried for the Dragonlord.

Merlin: Who?

Arthur: The last Dragonlord? Balinor? You cried over him when he died protecting you?

Merlin: Huh... I don't remember him, but if he did save my life, then I'm grateful, but why did I cry? Did I know him well?

Arthur: ... No, but you helped to convince him to help Camelot. He was a good man in the end.

Merlin: I see. Well, it's strange how I don't remember that.

Arthur: *Concerned*

It happens occasionally as time goes on and Arthur starts to consult Gaius about Merlin's memories.

Then I can see Merlin being outed as a sorcerer to Uther when Arthur is gone on some diplomatic mission. Uther wouldn't think twice before sentencing Merlin to death. Only he won't die.

He dies and dies in many different ways. Uther desperate to get rid of Merlin who he sees as the embodiment of his fears (if only he knew 😅).

Merlins deaths happen so many times, that by the time Arthur returns 2 weeks later, and storms the dungeons angry and confused, he was met with a sight he'll never forget.

Arthur: Merlin! *Rushes to the jail bars and demands answers to his questions*

Merlin: *Stares blankly*

Arthur: 😠 Merlin! Answer me!

Merlin: Do I know you?

It hits him harder than any fist or magic ever could.

And that's all I've got. Tell me what you think, what happens next?

Till next time fellow dreamers~! ✨

[venuslarkspur]

Can I please request a teen female reader (15-17?) who’s entered the games to help her family, like all the responsibilities have fallen to her after her dads death 🥺💕(ANY CHARACTERS WILL DO) ILY UR PINK HAIR FIC AS WELL)

Playtime’s Over.

Pairing(s): Squid Game Characters meet Fem!Teen!Reader, (ALL PLATONIC). Contains: Thanos, Se-Mi, Kang Dae Ho, Seong Gi Hun, Cho Hyun Ju, Park Gyeong Seok.

Summary: Them just doting on Teen Reader and wanting to protect her!

Note: This can be read as gender neutral as well! I didn’t really go out of the way to make it female looking back. NOT PROOFREAD I COULD NOT BE ARSED

Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of eating, VIOLENCE, family problems.

Thanos

- He immediately takes a liking to you and can straight away tell you’re not actually 18. (I’m with the firm belief this man would have a soft spot for kids)

- Forces the rest of the group to refer to you as “yeodongsaeng” (or little just sister) and it makes you feel loved, even though you know he’s full of shit , kids see everything.

- You swear that sometimes he thinks you’re his actual sister, with the way he acts towards you; others in the game constantly think you’re actual siblings.

- Nearly gives you some of his drugs before he remembers your age and tells you to scram and do your homework.

- Doesn’t let Nam-Gyu shit talk you, would sooner slap him on the head than let him do that, and firmly reminds him you’re his younger sister now as well. That thought of being his sister made you want to vomit, but you wouldn’t mind Thanos being your brother though.

- Bonding over your father’s not being around anymore! Even though your circumstances are very different.

- When 2 players are called In mingle. He hesitates, despite the drugs running through his system; he shouts at Nam-Gyu to go with Min-Su while he drags you into a nearby room. Dumbfounded you still were, as he picked you first.

- You had found someone, despite his countless flaws and bullshit. There was still someone, until there wasn’t anymore. And you were left alone again.

Se-Mi

- You’re the only one she’s letting call her ‘unnie’, very protective of you even before knowing your true age.

- If you need a distraction she will let you play with one of her rings while she asks you how school is and how you are doing.

- Very torn when she hears you’re providing for a whole family by yourself, wants to be there for you. Since you’re a kid with no parents to guide you here.

- Would give you her milk carton and egg. She doesn’t want it anyway just take it!

- Lets you trail after her like a duckling.

- Isn’t afraid to tell anyone to leave you alone if you’re getting picked on.

- Has an epiphany when she realised the reason your so good at the games is because it probably hasn’t bee long since you played them on the school courtyard :(

- Protects you in mingle, even though she knows she won’t always be able to keep you safe. But it ended up being her you failed to save.

Kang Dae-Ho

- Was the first person to jump in and help you when you were getting abused by one of the other players, an older man that you had pickpocketed quite recently; naturally, he longed for his revenge, firmly punching your stomach, you fell to the ground immediately; he grabbed your hair and before he could land a blow on your face another player stepped in.

- “Leave the kid alone.” Another man, younger this time whose number read “388” had jumped in to defend you. The older man backed off slightly, but still felt the need to verbally attack you. “You know this little bitch?” He spat out, locking eyes with you. “This kid stole cash from me!” He screamed pointing an accusatory finger at you. You weren’t denying, you hanged your head in guilt; even if you explained your circumstances, he wouldn’t care. “Maybe she did, but shes just a defenceless kid,, lay off.” and with that the stingy man trotted away, maintaining eye contact with you.

- Player 388 had checked up on you after that, since that day you were overly attached to him. Trailing after him, he didn’t mind at all not one bit. He told you he actually had several older sisters and it was nice to have a younger one for a change.

- He respects your strength and perseverance more than anyone, having to provide for an entire family when you’re just a kid yourself is TIRING work and unimaginable for him.

- Encourages you to make your own choices, like don’t pick “O” or “X” just because he did.

- Makes sure you are one of the first prioritised during mingle, he saw what happened to Young-Mi and couldn’t live with himself if the same happened to you. You do a lot of hand holding after what happened to Young Mi; he’s scared to let go.

- He hates seeing how little hope there is in your eyes for someone so young, it’s his personal mission to make you feel hope again.

Seong Gi-Hun

- Even though he’s kind of in his depressed era rn, all he sees when he looks at you is his daughter staring back at him. Acknowledges straight away that you’re only a bit older than her.

- It takes you a while to catch on, but you eventually realise why he’s protective of you. His own daughter wasn’t around anymore is the conclusion you came to, where she is or if she is you don’t know. Only that he must not see her anymore.

- scolds you quite a lot, telling you that you shouldn’t even be here anyway. That instead you should be doing your homework or studying for your next exam.

- When the cameras watch he has to distance himself from you, he doesn’t want the Frontman to know of his now emotional connection with you.

- You remind him of Sae-Byeok in an odd way.

- Would never forgive yourself if you died, you’d constantly be on his mind.

Cho Hyun Ju

- I can’t lie she initially tries to stay clear of you, she knows if she gets too attached and you die, she won’t be able to live with herself.

- But she can’t seem to get rid of you, you follow her around like a baby duck.

- You, Her and Young-Mi become like a sisterhood, she’s the oldest and you’re the baby of the group. You both call her ‘unnie’

- Young Mi gives you her food and Hyun Ju follows along and passes you some milk. Because you need it to be “big and strong”

- She has so many questions about how you ended up in here. Where are your parents? What are your family doing if you’re here? Shouldn’t you be in school?

- When Young Mi dies she gets very protective of you, she’s not losing you as well.

Park Gyeong-Seok

- Projection!!! He’s missing his daughter, you’re missing your dad! The perfect duo.

- On a serious note he hates how attached he is to you.

- You joined his group in the 2nd game and you played Flying Stone. He knows something was off about you, even putting on a tough exterior you seemed so childlike. When you confess your actual age he’s horrified, he didn’t want to believe it. How on earth are you in debt?

- He can’t believe you’re providing for a whole family. He struggles just providing for his daughter.

- Encourages you to hit “X”, trust me you don’t want to die here, you can’t help your family from your grave.

- If you seem a little hungry he offers you his food.

- You’re attached by the hip during mingle, you never left his side.

- He comforts you during the riot in lights out. Cradling your body, and running his hands through your hair to calm you down; wondering if this is how he’d hold his own daughter if she were here.

- You beg him not to go with the others in the revolt, he almost doesn’t. And later he’d wish he didn’t.

[justmeinadaze]

Curiosity (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: When I tell you that this did things to me...omg.

I was going to do a one shot but there's a few stories to tell with this two (and I love them already so bleh!)

There is a small glimpse into future steddie activity ;)

I dedicate this to the older girlies looking for their own Eddie Munson <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, SO MUCH dirty talk <3, daddy kink (cause I'm me), praise, semi-public (back of his van), big dick Eddie Munson, squirting, etc. FLUFF, these two work together and talk about being each others "work spouses".

ANGST, Y/N stumbles upon Eddie's "second job" on OnlyFans, struggles with the notion of telling him, reader (like myself) makes jokes about being older, weight doesn't play a factor in here and its barely mentioned. Eddie does say how beautiful and sexy he thinks her body is. I think that's it.

The main angst here is her stumbling onto his account and not telling him.

Word Count: 7874

Donate to Me <3

"Yeah, she's got those pretty eyes

But behind them lies

Thoughts of him at night she can't seem to fight

Feelings that she knows she's gonna have to feed"

You hated call center work but it paid alright and it was something you could do while you worked towards your goals of becoming something more. While the work and customers were tedious, the environment wasn’t too bad. Your manager was a sweet girl a little younger than you and the company did a bit more for its employees than the typical “You did well this quarter. Here’s a pizza party.”

Your head falls on to your desk as you hang up the phone after one of the rudest customer experiences in your life. 

A slight draw back was, like your manager, a lot of the coworkers around you were younger, ranging from just graduating high school to their mid-twenties. Listening to most of these kids talk made you feel old as hell which is part of the reason you connected to the boy on the opposite side of your cubicle. 

While Eddie Munson was in his early twenties, he had a slightly older soul. When he wasn’t talking to you or anyone else, he had hair metal playing in his headphones and even had that long, wild hair to match. He talked about things you remembered growing up with fondly as if he was born around the same time and when you questioned him about it, he just said he was “raised right.”

“Fun chat?”, he teased as he leaned back in his seat.

“Exciting!”, you mumbled into your arm that your head was resting on. 

Eddie’s warm laugh filled your ears as his palm extended out to rub your back. 

“I know, sweetheart. These fucking people can be real pricks sometimes.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Angela.”

“Language. Just because you aren’t on the phone doesn’t mean people can’t hear you on the other end.”

You laughed as you sat up, meeting his radiate grin as he chuckles. 

“Yes ma’am, Mrs. Angela. I apologize for the foul mouth I was born with.”

Your manager mumbles a soft mhmm and he continues to smile as he leans in closer to speak at a much softer volume. 

“Don’t let these people walk all over you. Remember, they need your help.”, he winks before lightly poking your nose. 

As the day came to a close and you both walked out together, you asked him what his plans were for the evening and he responded the same way he always did. 

“Um, probably going to put in some hours at my second job. I want to put in more recording time this weekend and the fucking manager at the studio is demanding we put down payments before we can use the equipment. It’s fucking stupid. I mean it’s not like we’re taking the stuff home.”

“One day, you’ll have to let me hear you play.”, you smile his way as you throw your things into your car. 

“And one day you’ll finally accept my invitation to come see us play on stage.”, he grins as he opens your car door and rests his chin on the top while he watches you put your things away. 

“I think I’m too old to be hanging out in a bar.”, you giggle. 

“Says who? Definitely not me because if I met a pretty lady like you at The Hideout she’d never go home alone again.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he sticks out his tongue through his teeth as you roll your eyes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, weirdo.”

“Bye, babe.”

After he closed your door, your eyes followed him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit the end on his way to his van. 

He really was a good man and utterly adorable. People in the office called him your work husband which gave you secondhand embarrassment till he himself began playing into the role. 

“Hey now Mrs. Angela, don’t talk to my work wife that way. Don’t worry, baby girl, I got your back.”, he joked with the manager as he slid his arm around your shoulders. 

Eddie made you laugh constantly and when you had a hard day, he was your sound board allowing you to vent. A part of you felt guilty because he seemed to know more about you than you did about him besides the fact that he wanted to be a rockstar. 

You genuinely did want to hang out with him outside of work but the insecure part of you couldn’t help but always wonder why he’d even want to spend his free time with someone your age when he could be giving his attention to any of the slimmer, more attractive women his own age. 

The sound of him slamming his car door brought you back into the moment as you pushed your gear into reverse and sped to your home. 

***

“Hey, can I use your laptop to watch a movie in bed?”, you ask your roommate as her heels click along the floor behind where you were sitting on the sofa. 

“Seriously? That’s what you’re doing with your Thursday night?”

“Relaxing after a long day at the office? Yes, Kelsey.”

“Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

“So is that a yes or…?”

Your roommate sighs as she scurries somewhere before she wiggles the device in your peripherals and you thank her. 

“Don’t judge me when you open it. I was watching this sexy guy on Only Fans. Hot damn.”, she swooned making you laugh as she quickly hugged you and hurried towards the door. “I love you! Don’t wait up for me!”

Shaking your head, you take her laptop and throw yourself on your mattress as you flip it open. 

Images of cute people caught your attention and you couldn’t stop yourself as you nonchalantly began to browse. You had never signed up for one of these let alone really knew anything about the platform besides the obvious. You weren’t a prude by any means, you had just never gone down avenues like this.

There were probably millions of people on this site… so the chances of your eyes landing on a face you knew had to be astronomical.

Yet as you clicked a “featured” link, a face you very much recognized appeared front and center. 

Eddie or as the name read, EddietheBanished, was smirking up at the camera with his upper torso bare showing off all the muscle you were completely unaware he had.

You should have let it go; respected his boundaries and closed the browser but it was like autopilot moved you as you clicked his link.

There he was.

The metalhead was sitting at a desk in what you assumed was his bedroom with his head hanging and hair in front of his face as he strummed his guitar. Shaking his mane, his gorgeous eyes met the camera before that sexy smile painted his lips. 

“I see a lot of new ‘faces.’ Welcome. I’m a nice guy I swear. I’ll be getting started here in a minute so take your time, relax, get comfy.”

You immediately backed out and slammed the computer shut, powerwalking into your kitchen to get a glass of wine. 

“No, no Y/N. He’s your friend and your coworker. Don’t invade that boundary. Don’t…”

As you took a sip of your beverage, you glared at the device that felt like it was taunting you from your bed. 

“Maybe…I can make my own account and just…see what he does. Maybe he just plays guitar without his shirt on. People do that right?”

Sitting back down, you reopened the laptop and logged out of your roommates account, selecting to create your own. 

“Name…name…I need a name…”

Um CurvyCorporateMillennial.

“God that’s dumb.”, you sigh at your internal thought as you upload a picture of a random flower as your profile pic and search for his name after you set everything set up. 

“Alright, friends, you know the drill. You get an hour to ask me questions and tip if you wish. The private group session will begin after.”

Over the course of the hour, you listened to him talk about music and his instrument, strumming along to random songs you definitely recognized, making you smile as you watched his fingers moved. Eddie was incredibly charming, replying off every innuendo with something cute or sassy in return. You enjoyed the regular answers more than anything as he came out of his shell a bit differently than he did at work. 

“Yeah, a lot of these tattoos I got because I had the money and I wanted it.”, he chuckled. “But this one here… I got for Master of Puppets and that album. Do you guys know who sings that?”

“Metallica.”

“Damn…CurvyCorporateMillennial answered that quick. Good girl.”, he chuckles making you smirk before you internally panic. 

“Shit. How am I the only one who answered that, that fast?”

“My mom and my uncle really loved all kinds of music. Inspired me to learn to play…”, he sighed as his eyes went a bit glassy. 

Your heart broke for him as you listened to the sad tone in his voice, wondering if something happened there. He never talked about his parents but to be fair you also never asked. 

“You play very well.”

A soft smile spread across his lips as he winked at the camera causing you to bite your own lip at how fucking sexy the action genuinely was. 

“Alright, we’re nearing the end of this hour. It was nice talkin’ to you guys. To my special group, I will see you in about five minutes. I hope to see you there to, Millennial.”

With that he turned off his stream, leaving you dumbfounded as you stared at your screen. 

“No…there’s no way he was talking to me. There have to other people with Millennial in their name… Y/N, you’ve been here long enough and you even engaged. You need to back away now.”

The entire time you went on the hunt for your credit card, you had that debate with yourself, down to the last minute and point you hit enter. 

When the new room opened, he was smiling at the camera as if he had been waiting just for you before they flicked down to the monitor in front of him. Instead of having a guitar in his lap, the metalhead displayed his palm absently rubbing his crotch through his sweats.

“Hey, guys. Thank you for your time and money. This is where the conversation gets fun.”, Eddie chuckles. “Ask away.”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

You can’t see anything displayed on the screen but you can see the reflection of words glisten within his chocolate eyes. 

“Aha, no. No, Steve tonight. I did ask but he said he’s incredibly busy this week…Ok, JulieGirl, I’ll let him know you miss him. Shit, I miss him to. Man definitely knows how to leave me a mumbling mess… Yeah? You’d sit on Daddy’s cock?”

“F-Fuck me.”, you panted, completely frozen as you watched him reach into his pants and take out his dick to spit over his tip, stroking it along his shaft. 

You had never thought about Eddie intimately like that but seeing him wrap his large palm around his girth had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Fuck, no, wrong!”, you shout as you close the browser and slam the laptop closed. 

##################

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie murmured while his hand rubbed along your back as he flopped down in his seat beside you. This was an action he did everyday which is why he was startled when you gasped and jumped in your chair. “Whoa! You alright, honey? Too much coffee?”, he joked, nervous when you didn’t laugh.

“I’m fine.”, you replied curtly, choosing to focus on your computer in front of you. 

For the rest of the day, you avoided his gaze and kept your head down to work. During your lunch you two would usually sit together but today when he asked if you wanted to go anywhere, you declined and gestured towards your monitor.  

As soon as he clocked out, you waited for him to exit the floor, clocking out as well before following. You hid when you noticed him waiting for the elevator, counting to 30 after he got on and the door closed before pressing the button to ride your own. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you prayed you’d miss him coming back in, your eyes widening in surprise when the elevator door opened and Eddie was leaning against the opposite wall. 

“Hey, um, oh fuck. I forgot something—”

As the doors began to close again, the metalhead took long strides forward and his palm loudly smacked against the bumpers causing them to slowly open once more. 

“Did I do something to make you mad?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did I say something or do something to offend you?”

“Pfft, Eddie, what are talking about?”, you reply as nonchalantly as possible while stepping around his broad frame and heading for the parking lot. 

“Oh, come off it, Y/N. You’ve barely said two words to me and now you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you—”

“Just tell me what I did wrong—!”, he shouts as he reaches for your bicep to get you to slow down but pauses when you abruptly turn and glare his way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…grab you… I just…I don’t like this…you treating me like most of the people in this fucking town.”

“Huh?”, you inquire, genuinely confused. 

“Shit. I forget you’re not from here sometimes. Um, let’s just say I don’t have many friends. I know we don’t really hang out outside of the building but I like talking to you. It would seriously break my heart if you never spoke to me again.”

Your own heart cracked hearing the sincerity in his voice as his gaze shifted to his feet like a nervous kid. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything. I’m just…I have a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asks. “As your work husband it’s my duty to hear about my work wife’s woos.” As you laugh at his joke, a sigh of relief leaves his chest. 

“No, I’ll be alright.”

“Ok…may I buy you lunch, my lady?”

***

You exhaled as you got home and threw yourself flat on your bed, exhausted from the day and your constant thoughts about what you had seen the night before. 

You considered just telling him what you saw but you didn’t want to embarrass him nor did you want to come off like some kind of pervert. You knew he had a “second job” but you never asked what it was mostly because you didn’t want to pry. 

He seemed so hurt today when you ignored him and it didn’t help that you were now pent up, needing a release after hearing him talk the way he had. 

Your phone dinged and originally you ignored it, thinking it was most likely your roommate who was letting you know that she got to work safely like she always did being that she worked a late-night shift at one of the restaurants nearby. 

When you finally looked at the screen, you were surprised to see a notification from the OnlyFans account. 

Your private session with EddietheBanished starts in five minutes.

“Huh? I didn’t…”

Once again you debated with you internal self as you got to your feet and headed to grab your roommate’s device. 

“I can log in and just tell him ‘Hey it’s Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have clicked on your thing…’ Yeah…Ok, Y/N.”

As soon as you opened the browser and signed in, you made sure the camera was off as you entered the session link sent to you. 

“Hey, Millennial.”, Eddie’s sultry voice cooed as he smiled at the screen. “I hope it’s alright. I scheduled this session here. I noticed you left the group thing before it really started and since you paid for it, I thought it only fair to do this so you don’t feel like you wasted your money.”

Your face softened at his kind confession as you sighed and began to type. 

“You didn’t have to do that. You seem very sweet. I wouldn’t have felt like I wasted my money at all.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate that. May I ask why you left so abruptly?”

“I…”

“It felt wrong.”

The metalhead blinked as he nodded and leaned back in his chair as his palm absently rubbed his tummy, the action in itself filling your own stomach with little butterflies. 

“You’re not an OnlyFans normal, are you, honey?”

“Not really no. I was borrowing my roommate’s laptop and when I opened it I saw your face. I got curious.”

“It’s alright to be curious. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I seem to be unintentionally doing that.”, he chuckles causing your head to tilt. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“No, please. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… I work at this boring ass job during the day but the only person that keeps me sane seemed upset at me today…kinda scared me. My coworkers call her my work wife.” 

“I’m sure she just had a lot on her mind.”

“Hm, that’s what she said but…she doesn’t really talk to me about her personal life. I hope everything is ok. I invite her out sometimes but she always declines…says she’s ‘too old’.”, he laughs as he shakes his head. 

The two of you casually talked for what felt like minutes before you glanced at your phone and realized it had actually been over four hours. Eddie opened up to you, talking about his family especially his uncle, his dreams of being a rock & roll legend, and things he enjoyed like D & D. 

“I know absolutely nothing about that game! Lol. I wish I did though. It seems like fun.”

“Oh, baby, it is. Maybe you’ll let me teach you one day…see that pretty face behind the flower…”

“Pfft, how do you know my face is pretty? Lol.”

“Because how can a gorgeous soul like yours not be gorgeous.”

Eddie’s words gave you pause as your breath caught in your throat. He had said it with so much confidence to that you couldn’t help but physically hide behind your hands.

“I hope I’m not being too forward. I don’t mean to make you nervous or anything.”

“No…you don’t make me nervous…I think you’re just wasting that charm on someone my age.”

“Hm, well, I may be younger but I can still be Daddy.”

As he winks at the camera and smiles your whole body comes to life. 

“Eddie…there’s something I should tell you…”

“Did I move to fast? I’m sorry. It’s so weird but I feel like I’ve known you for years, you know? Fuck, probably sounds like a line.”

His hair moves from side to side as he shakes him head in shame and laughs making you laugh along with him. 

“It does but that’s alright. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not just the whole online thing but…the Daddy thing… God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, no, baby, you don’t sound stupid. May I ask, sweetheart…did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Hearing me refer to myself that way; as Daddy.”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s smile stretches across his face as he bites his bottom lip and leans back in his seat. 

“I wish I could see you. I’m picturing you like blushing and being all giggly. Fuck, the thought of seeing you like that turns me on.”

Your breath shakes at his words as your thighs rub together. 

“You’ve spent so much time talking and getting to know me, baby, I’d like to return the favor.”

“How?”

Scooting his chair a bit closer to the camera, he adjusts his body so you can see more of his lap and chest. 

“How’s this, sweetheart? Got a good view?”

“I can’t see your face very well.”

You vaguely catch it as his cheeks turn a bright crimson and he smirks as he messes with the camera once more so you can see all his face a bit better. 

“Most people on here want to see my abs or my cock.”

“With partners, I like seeing their eyebrows scrunch together or their mouth fall open.”

“Hear that whimper most men try to hide under their heavy breaths.”

“Fuck me, honey. You definitely have a way with words. I like it. What, um, damn, you threw me a bit off my groove there.”, he chuckles as his palm rubs up his pec and over his opposite shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Maybe…we can talk next weekend. I can schedule the session myself this time. 

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your phone number? I’d love to talk with you through the week.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Eddie.”

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

####################

You tried so many times to tell him about finding his account and how you were the girl he spoke with that Friday night, you really did. But the longer you waited, the harder it became. 

When he came in that Monday morning, Eddie had a different glow about him as he lightly tugged your hair and said hello. 

The week went by like normal and you spent every day hyping yourself up, finally deciding you would tell him on Saturday after surprising him by seeing him play at The Hideout. You figured he’d be in such a good mood that you showed up to see him, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry after you told him the truth. 

When you opened the bar entrance door, you were met with loud blaring music and a lot of young voices chatting over the music. Mumbling small apologies, you pushed past people to find a table near the stage hoping you’d be able to catch his eyeline so Eddie knew you were there. 

Lucky for you, they were already on stage preparing their equipment so you hastily snuck to the corner and called his name. When his chocolate eyes met yours, he smiled wide before seeming to freeze as he took you in. 

You weren’t sure what was normal for bar attire so you went with a green spaghetti strap dress with matching heels and light make up to accentuate your features. 

“Hey! I hope I’m not distracting you. I just wanted you to know—”

“Hey, no. No, no. You’re not…distracting me…”, Eddie interrupted as he jumped down from the stage to give you a hug. 

Fuck, he smelled amazing.

“Wow, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

“I wasn’t sure what was normal or…”

“Pfft, fuck normal.” As his eyes continued to run along your face, you both seemed to realize he hadn’t taken his arms off your waist after your embrace. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Usually, I’m a lot smoother than this.”

“Are you?”, you tease causing his grin to reappear as he takes a step back and pokes your nose. 

“There’s my work wife I know and love. Alright, I have to finish getting ready but please stay afterward and let me buy you a drink, ok?”

***

“Eddie, oh my God, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play like that!”, you continued to compliment as he laughed, chugging back another bottle of beer in his grasp.

“Thank you, baby. Now, if you could advocate for us to get more record time so we can actually get something out.”

“Whatever you need. Do you have a shirt or maybe I can get a tattoo on my forehead.”

You giggle as he laughs and shakes his head. 

“No, Y/N. Would be a shame to damage a gorgeous face like yours.”, Eddie smirks as you bite your lip. 

“So, did your mom teach you to play guitar like that or did your uncle?”

The metalhead blinks, slightly taken aback. 

“What would make you say that? My mom or my uncle and not like my dad?”

“Oh, um, we’ve talked about your uncle before and you’ve never really mentioned your father so I just assumed… I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry.”, he sighs as his gaze shifts to the table.  “My mom got me into music but my uncle taught me to play my guitar. My dad taught me other bullshit like how to hot wire a car and how to spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Your heart breaks for him and on impulse you lean your head on his shoulder as you place your palm over his.

“Yeah, this is why I don’t usually talk about myself.”

“You can always talk to me, Eddie.”

The man smiles softly as he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer to his side. 

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. It was nice seeing you out here bobbing your head and cheering for me.”

You laugh as he tilts his head against yours and his hand slides from your shoulder down your bicep. 

“I’m your wife. I thought it was about time to come see my husband play his loud records for the youngens.”

Eddie’s throat vibrates as he chuckles through his teeth but you barely notice as you nuzzle your nose into his neck and inhale the smell of his cologne. 

“You always talk like you were born in 1943 or something.”

“Psh, my body makes me feel that way sometimes.”

“Now why do I doubt that? With a body like yours, honey, I bet you feel better than any of these other girls.”

Leaning your head back, your eyes lock with his as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek so your thumb can caress his bottom lip. 

Just as his mouth is about to press to yours, you gasp as you push away from him. 

“Oh my God…Eddie…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

As he watches you panic, confusion floods his face and freezes him in place until you hurriedly push out the front door. Before you make it to your car, a ringed palm grabs your arm, pushing your back against an adjacent van as he crashes his lips to yours. 

It was a messy kiss but fuck did it taste fucking good. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he allowed you both a moment to catch your breath as his tall, broad frame kept you boxed in.

“Please, Y/N. I want this…I want you…I want to feel you…”, Eddie whispered as his mouth ghosted your neck to your ear and your eyes rolled shut at the sound. “I want to taste you and hear all the noises you make, baby.”

“F-Fuck…Daddy…”

“Uh my God.”, he breathily panted as his hand absently reached for the door handle and opened the back. “It’s ok…this is mine…I promise.”

The metalhead didn’t even wait for a response as he lifted you by your waist and placed you inside, shutting the door behind him. 

As you crawled backwards further into the back of his van, he hastily climbed up your body to attach his mouth to yours again. Placing his knee between your legs, you took advantage desperate for friction to relieve the ache making you dizzy with need. 

“That’s it, baby girl, use Daddy’s leg. Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”

Your fists grabbed at his shirt as you moaned against his lips. 

“Are you gonna cum, sweetheart? What a desperate little thing.”

The rhythm of your hips hastened as your grip on him tightened and your back arched as the coil snapped. 

“Good, good girl. Fuck.”

As his mouth attached to your throat, your fingers reached between you two and sloppily fumbled with his belt as he reached back to help you pull his pants just below his ass. 

“Holy shit.”, he whispered as your palm took hold of his incredibly hard cock and moved the cotton blocking your core to the side to allow him entry. “Fuck, baby.”

Your arms came around to cling to his shoulders as his head fell into your nook and he set a steady pace.

“Oh my God, Eddie…your dick is so big…” He grunted at your words as he rolled his hips, pushing his length as deep as your pussy would allow and then some. “I’ve never…I’ve had anyone so… fuck…”

“Tell me, honey, please.” When you don’t immediately respond, he lifts his head to kiss you. “You can do it, beautiful.”

“I-I’ve never had anyone so deep.”

“Fuck, baby girl. Tell Daddy how you want me to make you cum again. Do you want it slow?”, he asks as he gradually pulls all the way back till it’s just his tip before thrusting back into you. “Or do you want it fast and hard?”

“Faster, please.”, you beg as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie does what you ask, his head falling again as he roughly pounds into your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair and his own palm slides behind your back, holding you to him as your body trembles and your pussy squeezes him like a vice as you cum. 

“Shit…good, baby. Fuck, you choke my dick when you cum…so fucking tight…where do you want my cum, honey.”

“In-Inside, Eddie, please.”

He started to lift his head to make sure you were sure, but your hand kept him against your throat as you rolled your hips to meet his eliciting a loud grunt from him as his mouth fell open.

His whole frame collapsed on top of you as his pace faltered and you felt his release paint your walls. The strangled groan followed by his heavy pants were the sexiest things you had ever heard and as you lazily turned to look at his face his mouth was waiting. 

Compared to his other kisses, this one was much more tender. 

A soft kiss between two people who had known each other and been friends for a long time. When he pulled back, his chocolate eyes met your irises as his fingers caressed your cheek. 

After a few moments, he silently pulled out of you, kissing your forehead when you winced before crawling towards his glove box and rifling through it. 

“Shit. I thought I had tissues… Ok, um, let me grab some napkins real quick from inside and then…if you’re up to it…maybe we can go to the diner and have some dinner…talk?”

You nod, smiling as he fumbles with his own pants and belt while almost falling out of his van before catching himself on the door. 

“Fucking shit! Uh, I swear I’m more, uh, graceful than that…ok, I’ll be right back.”

################

Eddie was an absolute gentleman that night; taking you to dinner where you got to know him a bit better. Afterward, he drove you home and walked you to your door with a smile that you returned with a soft kiss. 

After closing your door, you looked through the peephole to find him beaming wide before throwing his hands in the air in victory and heading back to this car. 

You dreamt about his arms around you and thought about him all morning, the subtle soreness between your legs a constant reminder. 

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you and I hope you’re feeling ok. I have to work tonight for a bit but maybe after I can call and we can talk?”

You smiled at his text before the realization hit you that his “work” was the website and he still had no idea you were one of the accounts he was talking to. As if to emphasis that a point, a notification flashed on your screen reminding you that you had a session scheduled with Eddie the Banished later that evening. 

Opening the computer, you sat there preparing your speech and apology, ready to tell him everything but when his face illuminated your screen it gave you pause. Before when you saw him online, he usual had on just sweats or boxers but this time he was wearing a long sleeve shirt with a Dio album on the front. 

Still donning black sweats, he had his hair pulled up and out of his face making you smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I hope it’s ok but I need your advice.”

“You want my advice?”

“Yeah. You seem incredibly smart and with our last conversation I know you’re easy to talk to.”

As Eddie grinned nervously, you couldn’t help but blush as your fingers flew along the keyboard.

“How can I help?”

“Ok, so I was playing my show last night and this girl…woman…I work with finally showed up to see me. I’ve been asking her for months to come and each time she said she couldn’t for one reason or another. Usually because she said she was ‘to old’.”, he laughs, rolling his eyes. “She’s not. She’s probably the same age as you since she’s a Millennial to but anyway… I loved seeing her come out of her shell, you know? She danced in her seat and headbanged; it was so fucking cute.”

As his smile grew at the thought you bit your bottom lip at the sight. 

“After the show, things got…intimate… and, um, so I guess my question is…how do I tell her about this?”, he asks as he gestures towards his computer and camera. “I don’t want her to think I’m like…a whore or something. I do this for the money because call centers pay their fucking employees jack shit. Add in the fact that I still kind of need to do it because my band and I are SO close to finishing this record but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable or feel like I’m cheating or something. I’m not my dad… I don’t fucking know…”

“Honey.”, you type as he covers his face with his palms. “Breathe. It’s ok. The fact that you’re even thinking of all this I’m sure will mean a lot to her. Eddie, I have to tell you something.”

“I just don’t want to lose her. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. At work I get a glimpse of what a relationship with her would be like and I love it. She’s so funny and sweet. Whenever she’s frustrated, her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk and she sighs like she wants to throw her computer out the window. When she smiles, the entire room lights up. She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.”

“Have you told her any of this?”

“Before last night I didn’t think I stood a chance. In my hometown, people don’t exactly like me. The Munson name carries a lot of weight because of my dad. He conned so many people here and add in the fact that I grew up in a trailer… they see me as trash. It would kill me if she saw me the same way. 

“No, Eddie. She would never think that.”

“Then she makes jokes a lot about her age and sometimes I get worried that she’d see me as like a kid or something. I’m highly aware that a man her own age could probably give her way more than I ever could but… I don’t know. Maybe if she can call me Daddy like she did…she can see me as someone who can take care of her because I will, honey. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Sounds like you already know what you have to do :). Just talk to her, baby. She… she may surprise you herself.”

“She surprised the hell out of me last night. When she called me Daddy, I almost fucking came in my jeans. I’m sorry. Don’t mean to be crude.”, he grins as he sticks out his tongue towards the camera. 

“It’s ok lol So it was good? The intimacy?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts off camera as his teeth drag along his bottom lip. 

“We’re friends right?”

“Of course.”

“It was the best I’ve ever had, Millennial. Fuck, her lips tasted amazing. I can only imagine what her pussy tastes like. Shit… It happened so fast I wasn’t able to take my time with her but next time… I’m going take her on a date Friday if she says yes. I want to take her to dinner and really make her feel special. She deserves that. Then I’m going to explore her gorgeous body till she’s begging me to stop.”

 Your thighs rubbed together at his words as that similar ache between your legs lit a fire in your belly. 

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone and texted his number. 

“Eddie when will you be free??”

Instantly, you heard vibration on his side of the stream and watched as he leaned forward to grab his device. As he smiled down at the screen, you felt your need for him rise as you watched his long, thick fingers fly along the phone’s keyboard. 

What is it about this man that has you feeling like this?

“I can be free now. Why? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…”

“Do you think you could come over?”

“Hey, uh, Millennial, I have to go but I’ll keep you updated. Maybe next time you can give me your number and we can keep in touch. I may need more advice!”

Your brain is too foggy to register how that will be a problem later as you type out your goodbyes and he signs off. A moment later, another text from him comes through to your phone. 

“Yeah, I can be there in ten minutes. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I need Daddy.”

The three dots flash on you screen for a millisecond before he replies, “I’m on my way, baby.”

***

Eddie’s fist barely has a chance to knock before you’re opening your apartment door and tugging him inside by his collar, roughly bringing his lips to yours. 

“Ro-Roommate?”, he asks as his eyes briefly notice the two bedrooms. 

“Work…works…overnight…”, you answer between passionate kiss as you tug off his leather jacket and he lifts up your shirt tossing it aside. “Need you…please…”

“I got you, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of you.”

You practically melt into his embrace, backing him into the living room wall and yanking off his shirt so you could drag your lips down his chest as you start to descend to your knees before he grabs your arm.

“No, no, honey. I said Daddy is taking care of you.” With one swift turn he spun you around, placing his palm beside your head to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Can I taste you, baby? 

Eddie smirks when you emphatically nod and places a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Can you say it?”, he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes stay on yours as he slowly falls to his knees and his palms reach up to pull down your underwear till you were completely naked. While his lips gently pecked along your belly, your own hand reached out to pet his head. 

“I want you to feel your t-tongue in my pussy.”

As his smile grows, Eddie abruptly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and dives into your cunt, doing what you requested. With every flick of the muscle between his teeth, you felt yourself falling deeper into euphoria. This metalhead definitely knew what he was doing and reveled in it as his tongue roamed. 

“Oh…Oh my God, Eddie. Just like that…” 

Your fingers pressed him harder against you and his moan vibrated through you at the sensation. As he picked up his pace, his mouth overwhelmed you as he sucked and made out with your clit till he felt your body quiver as you came. 

Rising to his feet, you circled your arms around his neck as he slid his middle and ring fingers inside of you trying to elongate your high. 

“I knew it. I knew you tasted like fucking heaven. Fuck, such a good girl.”

After pushing down his sweats, you licked your palm and wrapped it around his girth, his glassy eyes fluttering at the feeling. 

Eddie’s free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could see your face. 

“Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, pretty girl. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard on my cock. Goddamn, I keep thinking about how tight your little pussy gets when she cums. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.”

You suddenly let him go as your hand flew down to grab his wrist trying to push him away as you whined.

“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. Daddy’s got you. Give in to it. I’m right here.” At his murmured words, you continued to cling to him as your hips rolled against his fingers. “Atta girl. I know, I know. Cum again for Daddy, baby.”

A string of uhs left your lips as his eyes remained glued to your face and your nails dug into his skin as the coil snapped. 

“Goddamn, you are so fucking sexy.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth latched onto your neck and you carefully guided him to your bedroom while tried to stumble out of his pants. 

“Motherfuck—I swear I can walk.”, he jokes as you both fall naked onto your bed. 

“Well, only if your pants are on correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he pushes up on his forearms to look down at your beaming features. Your index finger gradually extends to caress his cheek and along his chin, grazing the light stubble that clung to his skin. 

“You’re handsome.”

At your compliment, his jaw flexes as he tries to contain the obnoxiously huge smile that wants to stretch from ear to ear at your adorable tone. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I mean it. I always thought you were.”

“Yeah?” You nod, biting your bottom lip to contain your own smile. “You want to know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Eddie crawls a bit further up your frame, gently kissing your jawline till he finds the shell of your ear. 

“I always thought you were beautiful to, baby.”

Utilizing his knee, he pushes your legs further apart as he grinds his cock between your dripping pussy lips but before he could guide himself inside of you, your hand lightly pushed on his hip as you gently pulled his hair. 

His face flooded with concern as his eyes scanned you over. 

“I want to see your face this time, Daddy…Please…”

A relieved chuckle left him; thankful you were ok. 

“You’re going to kill me, honey.”

Licking his lips, you watch as Eddie’s eyes momentarily shifted to the void as he reached between your bodies and pressed his mushroom tip to your entrance. When his irises found yours again, he brought his arm back around and tenderly petted your head as he slowly thrust his cock inch by inch. 

“You’re doing good, baby girl…taking me so he well.”, he praised when he noticed your eyebrows twitch in what appeared to be pain. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Do you need me to go slower?”

“No…No, Daddy. You’re… you’re just…”

“Yeah? Just what, princess?”

“You’re so big.”

“I know, baby, I know but you’re doing so good. I’m almost all the way in.”

“Y-You can…you can go harder…you d-don’t have to be so—fuck—gentle.”

Eddie stops moving for a moment as he smirks down at you before suddenly smacking his hips into yours eliciting a loud moan from deep within you. 

“Like that?”, he teases as he pounds into you again. “I told you…Daddy’s got you.”

Finding a faster rhythm, he kept his intensity as he repeatedly abuses that sensitive, spongy spot deep within you that has your mind reeling. 

Pushing upright onto his knees, the metalhead pressed your thighs flat into the mattress as he watched himself disappear inside your cunt. 

“Shit—your pussy feels too fucking good. Cum again, Y/N. Cum on Daddy’s dick, baby.”

“Something…something’s different…”

Eddie slows for a fraction of a second before he realizes what’s about to happen. 

He sees it all over you scrunched face. 

Licking his thumb, he presses it to your clit as he keeps a steady pace. Again, your hand tries to grab at his wrist but he’s much stronger than you as your movements don’t deter him. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Daddy’s right here, baby. Just let it happen.”

A wave of pleasure stronger than you had ever experienced before washes over you as the ball in your tummy drops and you scream his name. 

“Atta girl! Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans, his thrusts faltering as he pumps his release deep inside you. “Fuck…it’s ok…you’re ok.”, he pants. “I’ve…I’ve never made a girl squirt before.”

It took him a moment but it was only then that he realized you were crying. 

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby. Talk to me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you hug him and he continues to try and comfort you. “Everything’s alright, Y/N.”

“I-I-I’ve never done that before. I…ruined the moment…”

“Oh, honey, no. No, you didn’t ruin anything.”, Eddie cooed as he moved back to allow you to sit up and he could wipe your eyes with his thumbs. “What just happened was incredibly fucking hot.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, beautiful girl, it was. I’m honored to be the first guy to make you cum hard like that. I mean…of course being your husband only IIII can do that…”

At his joke, you laugh as you reach out to lightly hit his bicep as he giggles along with you. 

“How about this? Let’s get you into a bath and all clean, then I can change the sheets and get you in some nice comfy pajamas.”

“Will…will you lay with me after?”

Caressing your cheek, he leans towards you to gently kiss your lips. 

“Of course.”

After your bath, Eddie gave you some alone time to complete any needs you felt you needed to complete before bed and as soon as you were done, you stepped out of your bathroom to find him just finishing making the bed.

“I hope this is alright. I found these sheets in a closet in the hallway.”

“These are actually my roommates.”

“Oh… well…sheet.”, he jests, smiling when you breathy laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I like it.”

Stepping towards him, you grab his arm and push him under the covers so you could curl up into his side. Lifting his arm, he circles it around your shoulder and you pleasantly sigh as he plays with your hair. 

“At some point, sweetheart, we’re going to have to talk about this…us…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, fuck, I made it sound like it was going to be. I just…there’s some things I need you to know…about me…my life—”

Your palm cuts him off as your eyes meet his. 

“Later. Tonight, I just want to be close to you like this.”

“Yeah…”, he sighs before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Me to.”

###################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Sugar, Baby

Chapter Three: Unraveling

Bruce Wayne x Sugar Baby! Reader

| Part 1 | | Part 2 |

I pinky promise there will be smut in the next part🤞 I just felt like making this one a bit of a slow burn

Taglist: @shadowqueen1322 @secretsideofbree @lillyrob

It started with nights at the manor.

At first, it was just a casual thing—Bruce would send a car, and you’d spend an evening talking over expensive whiskey, letting the world outside the Wayne estate fade into irrelevance. You still worked at the bar, still went to class, but somehow, Bruce had become a fixture in your life.

And it wasn’t just the money.

Yes, he still tipped you ridiculous amounts when he showed up at the bar. Yes, the black card he’d given you sat in your wallet, burning a hole you had yet to fill. But more than that, he was there.

The texts started coming more frequently.

B: You still alive?

You: Barely. My professor is trying to kill me with this assignment.

B: Send me the prompt. I’ll have my team handle it.

You: Absolutely not.

B: I don’t like seeing you stressed.

You: And I don’t like billionaire academic fraud.

B: Fair point.

He called, too—not often, but enough that you found yourself waiting for the sound of his voice on the other end of the line.

The nights at the manor got longer.

At first, it was just drinks and conversation, but then there were the quiet dinners Alfred started preparing for two instead of one. The slow walks through the grand halls of the estate, the firelit nights spent sprawled on the couch in the library, his arm slung lazily over the backrest behind you.

And then, of course, there were the kisses.

God, the kisses.

They started slow, teasing, an extension of whatever sharp-witted conversation you’d been having before he inevitably leaned in. Bruce kissed with purpose, with intent, with the kind of control that made you dizzy.

But that’s all it was.

Kissing.

He never pushed, never let things go further than you could handle, and part of you wondered if he knew.

If he had already pieced together that you had never done this before.

Not this—not just the kisses, but the way he made you feel.

Because it wasn’t just physical.

Bruce knew you.

He listened when you ranted about your classes, when you muttered about your deadlines, when you offhandedly mentioned your favorite books or movies. He remembered, too—casually dropping facts about your life into conversation, surprising you with small gestures that proved he had been paying attention.

“Tell me something real,” you murmured one night, curled up next to him on the oversized couch in his study.

Bruce glanced down at you, brow raising slightly. “Something real?”

You nodded. “Something not in the tabloids.”

He was silent for a moment, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your knee.

“I never sleep for more than three hours at a time,” he admitted finally. “It’s been that way since I was a kid.”

You frowned, shifting to get a better look at him. “Why?”

His gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his expression. “You know why.”

You did.

Gotham knew the story of Thomas and Martha Wayne—the billionaire philanthropists gunned down in an alley, the grieving son left behind.

“I dream about them,” Bruce continued, voice quieter now. “Not always in the way you’d think. Sometimes it’s just… glimpses. My mother’s perfume. My father’s laugh. I wake up before I can hold onto any of it.”

Your chest tightened.

You reached for his hand without thinking, threading your fingers through his. Bruce blinked, as if surprised, before his grip tightened around yours.

He didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, rubbing a slow, deliberate pattern over your knuckles. “I just—”

“I’m glad you told me,” you interrupted softly.

He exhaled, eyes flickering toward your lips.

That night, the kisses were softer.

Not urgent. Not desperate. Just there.

Something real.

—

It was a few weeks later when you finally asked.

You were sitting in Bruce’s bedroom—an indulgently large space that still somehow felt distinctly him. There was a fireplace crackling in the corner, the low golden light casting shadows across the room.

Bruce was on the bed beside you, leaning against the headboard, sleeves rolled up as he scrolled through something on his phone. You had a book open in your lap, though you weren’t really reading it.

Instead, you were watching him.

“Bruce.”

He glanced up at the sound of your voice. “Mm?”

You hesitated. “Are you… waiting for something?”

He set his phone down, eyes scanning your face. “What do you mean?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the book. “I mean, we’ve been… this for a while now.”

Bruce’s lips twitched. “This?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he admitted.

You exhaled. “So, are you waiting? For me?”

His expression shifted, something fond passing through his features.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Your stomach flipped. “Why?”

Bruce sat up, moving closer. One of his hands found your knee, fingers brushing against the fabric of your leggings.

“Because I know you,” he said, voice low. “I know you wouldn’t be here if this wasn’t real for you.”

You swallowed hard. “And?”

His thumb traced slow circles against your leg.

“And I want to take my time with you.”

You felt yourself flush, warmth spreading through your body at the implication.

Bruce smirked slightly, tilting your chin up with the crook of his finger.

“You deserve more than rushed decisions,” he murmured. “I don’t need more. Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”

You inhaled sharply. “I—”

His lips brushed against yours, soft and coaxing.

“Don’t overthink it,” he whispered against your mouth.

And for once, you didn’t.

—

It didn’t happen that night.

Or the next.

Or the one after that.

But somehow, the waiting didn’t feel like waiting.

Masterlist

[vettelsvee]

I'M SORRY, JULIET | Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x Secret Girlfriend Vettel!Reader

SUMMARY: You're secretly dating Mick, both of you hiding it from everyone in your families until you get so happy about him getting his first points in Formula 1 that your father, Sebastian, ends up finding out

WORD COUNT: 2404

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of teen pregnancy (age 17 from Seb and Hanna), angst. Settled on 2022 British GP

VEE'S NOTES: I missed so much posting about Mick so I had to bring him back... even that means Seb is the "bad guy" here. Hope you like it and thanks for reading! I'll be waiting for your opinions <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You hadn’t attended a Formula 1 race for longer than you could remember, and truthfully, you never thought you would again until Mick Schumacher started turning your world pink.

The boy had known you since you were a child, back when you would occasionally attend races hand in hand with your grandfather, Norbert. Your relationship deepened every time you saw each other in the paddock or at family gatherings, and despite the age difference between you, you grew closer and closer until you eventually fell in love with each other.

Even before your relationship began, you were both fully aware of the obstacles in your way. It wasn’t just the fact that Mick was six years older than you, but also that you were the children of two drivers who weren’t just former rivals and friends, but also were like family.

All of that, combined with the inevitable pressure from the press if they ever found out about your relationship, mattered little to Mick. One afternoon in mid-June, when the Schumachers and the Vettels had gathered together, he had decided to confess his feelings for you. At first, you were completely in shock, hearing from the lips of the very boy you had loved for years that he loved you too.

So, of course, when Mick asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend, you didn’t doubt to say yes.

Neither of you cared what others might say because, for now, no one knew about your relationship.

And there you were now, standing in the Aston Martin garage alongside your mother and your three younger siblings, watching the race with great enthusiasm as Sebastian drove the emerald-green car.

To the outside world, it might have seemed like you were simply there for one of the most important days in your father’s career since it was his 35th birthday. But in reality more than watching your father, you wanted to see your boyfriend.

Hanna noticed the tense expression on your face. Smiling warmly and without taking her eyes off Emily and Matilda, who were playing tag nearby, she stepped closer to you.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You seem like you’re in another galaxy.”

Your body tensed at the question, something that happened every time someone in your inner circle mentioned directly or indirectly your secret boyfriend. You tried to hide what was on your mind, but the combination of your mother’s presence and your nerves made you say more than you actually wanted.

“I’m nervous because I want dad to finish in the points,” you said with as much conviction as possible, though it wasn’t enough to convince Sebastian’s wife. “And well… I’m also worried about Mick.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow, curious, but not pressing. She had once been seventeen too. More than that, she had gotten pregnant with you at that age, and she knew that your concern for Mick went beyond simple friendship. Mothers developed a sixth sense when it came to their children, and she knew you too well to be fooled.

“Mick? Why would you be worried about Mick?” she asked, making sure not to pry too much or reveal how much she already knew.

“Well… he’s having a really good race today,” you replied, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’d like him to get a high position,” you explained, “even though with the piece of crap car he has we can’t expect much.”

Hanna nodded understandingly, reading between the lines of your words.

“I get it, sweetheart. I was the same way with your dad when he started racing,” she said, deliberately choosing her words to make you overthink. “Mick has a lot of talent, but he’s not in a team that helps him shine, so I understand why you care so much.”

“If you ever need to talk about Mick you know you can trust me, right?”  Hanna added,

You appreciated your mother’s words, though you remained cautious just in case she was digging for something that might expose your relationship. How naive you were to think she didn’t already know you were dating one of Sebastian’s best friends’ sons.

When the checkered flag waved and the twenty cars crossed the finish line, your eyes remained glued to the leaderboard. Not only had Carlos, one of your best friends, taken his first victory, but both Mick and Sebastian had finished in the points, placing eighth and ninth respectively.

Your father earning two points on his birthday was amazing. Your boyfriend earning three? Even better, especially since it was his first time scoring points in Formula 1. Saying you were emotional was an understatement, and no matter how much you tried to hold it in, a few tears escaped down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly to avoid drawing attention.

Hanna, still by your side as she fed the youngest member of the family, noticed you approaching with a hesitant expression, as if you wanted to ask something but were afraid to.

“Can I go to Mick’s garage to congratulate him?” you asked cautiously. “It’s his first time scoring, and I’d like to say something to him in person before we leave for Switzerland.”

“I know you’re excited for him,” your mother said while burping the baby, “but I think it’s better if you stay here. It’s your dad’s birthday, and honestly? I doubt Haas would even let you see Mick.”

You nodded, though sadness crept in. You looked at the monitors, seeing the top three drivers already celebrating on the podium. Even from your location, you could hear the Spanish national anthem playing over the speakers.

“Mum,” you tried again, “come on, let me go congratulate Mick. I’ll be back quickly, and I’ll be here by the time dad gets back!”

Your exaggerated gestures and the way you waved your arms were too adorable, and Hanna couldn’t help but see herself in you. She remembered how she had felt when she started dating Sebastian, wanting nothing more than to see him every chance she had. As much as she tried to be the responsible mother, sometimes she just couldn’t help it. This was one of those moments, one where she gave in to the charms of her eldest, the spitting image of her father.

“Make sure you come back as soon as possible,” she relented with a small smile. “I don’t want your father calling me a bad mother for letting his baby do grown-up things.”

“Thank you, mum!”

With that being said, you sprinted off, weaving through mechanics, fans, and celebrities scattered around the paddock. You checked your phone to see if Mick had texted you, but there was nothing. That only made you hurry toward the Haas garage. Seeing it empty, you quickly turned around and headed toward the hospitality area, which was further away. While dodging anyone in your way, you sent Mick a message telling him you were on your way and that you had to be quick before your father returned.

When you arrived, the first thing you saw was Mick soaked in champagne, holding a bottle in his hand. The Haas team members, including Guenther, were celebrating. You felt out of place and your insecurity crept in, making you want to turn around and leave. But then Mick saw you, and the moment your eyes met, you knew you had made the right choice.

Mick immediately broke away from the group and rushed to your side, hugging you tightly. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, even if just a quick peck, but his rational side reminded him that now was not the place.

“Congratulations, Mick!” you exclaimed, your excitement taking over you. “Oh my God, oh my God! I’m so proud of you!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I finally get to see you, princess. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to,” he murmured playfully. “Although, I’d love to do a few other things with you.”

Your face turned bright red, something you had grown used to ever since you started dating Mick and were used to hear his endless compliments.

“How was the race?” he asked. “Did you like it, even though I probably looked like an idiot who doesn’t know how to drive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mick!” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm. “You scored points for the first time. If that’s being an idiot, then I don’t know what that makes me.”

“That makes you the love of my life.”

Mick pulled you even closer, and just as he was about to kiss you, completely ignoring the risks, a voice interrupted.

Or rather, someone did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mick Schumacher?!”

As soon as you heard your father’s shouts, you and Mick pulled apart. You stood frozen, your face turning completely pale as Mick began cursing himself. How was he supposed to explain to the man who was like a father to him in many ways that he was dating you, his daughter?

You didn’t stay silent. You, who had a temper as strong as the man who had given her life, stepped between Mick and your father, trying to ease the tension that had formed over a simple show of affection.

“Dad, stop! It’s not what it looks like!” you exclaimed, nervous but determined.

“What do you mean it’s not what it looks like?” Sebastian scoffed, unwilling to believe your words. “Come on, Y/N, you were about to kiss him!”

“Yes, because Mick is my boyfriend,” you stated without hesitation. “We’ve been secretly dating since last month because we didn’t want to say anything just yet,” you explained without caring about the consequences. “So don’t act like this and use your fucking head and be reasonable for once.”

The Aston Martin driver was stunned, unsure how to react to the news that his daughter had a boyfriend, and that it was none other than the son of the man he considered his best friend, who had once been his mentor.

Mick watched as Sebastian looked at you in disbelief before shifting his gaze back to you, focusing all his attention on you.

“Y/N, this is insane… Mick,” he gestured toward him, “isn’t just any driver, he’s the son of—”

“I already know, Dad!” you interrupted, your tone sharp. “And? Does it matter? I don’t care who his father is, or who mine is, or the relationship between you two,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “We love each other, we take care of each other, and that’s the only thing that should matter to you.”

Mick alternated his gaze between father and daughter, finally mustering the courage to say something. But, before he could even open his mouth, Sebastian raised his right hand, silencing him immediately:

“Stop trying to fix this. You’ve fucked up, Mick,” he muttered as he stepped closer, his voice low enough that not even you could hear it. “My daughter is too young, and you know you could get into serious trouble if this gets out,” he added before stepping away and moving back toward you. “ I just sort of saved you from shit talks about you, so consider yourself lucky.”

“You can’t blame Mick for this, Dad,” you interjected defiantly. “We’re adults, and we can make our own decisions, so just leave us alone already.”

“You are not an adult, Y/N Vettel, you’re still a kid,” Sebastian snapped, his voice filled with unfiltered anger. “Stop acting like you are, because all you are is a reckless little girl.”

“Let me remind you that when you were 17 you fucked mum and you got her pregnant.”

You threw it out without thinking, and immediately, you regretted it, placing your hands over your mouth as if that could fix what you had just said. You knew you had been the most beautiful mistake your parents had, but you didn’t think about the impact it could have in their lives, especially in your father’s.

"I'm sorry, Juliet," the older driver began, trying not to let his anger and, especially, the pain he felt from your comment show. "But it's time to leave."

"Dad..."

"Not 'dad' or anything, Y/N," Sebastian said, raising his voice and making it sound harsher than he had intended at first. "Do you think it’s funny for me to see my daughter rubbing herself up against the one I consider my son?"

Mick paled as he heard his mentor’s words, feeling completely awful because he knew Sebastian was right. You threw him a look, but didn’t have the strength to answer. You were so in shock that you didn’t know how you hadn’t just left yet.

"And you, Mick," he said now, shooting a penetrating look at the young man, "I thought you could show a little more respect for our family and everything we’ve built together all these years."

Having said that, Sebastian took you by your shoulders carefully and started walking back to where the rest of your family was, not giving you or Mick a chance to say goodbye.

"We don't choose who we fall in love with, Sebastian," Schumacher blurted out, still frozen in place.

Your father and you turned around. The look of disappointment on Seb’s face made Mick feel a thousand times worse than he ever thought he could, but it was the sight of your tears falling rapidly that made him start crying.

"I expected you, more than anyone, to agree with this," he continued, pointing at you and himself, "because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that your daughter deserves someone good who can make her life the best it can be. If I can’t be that person because you won’t let us..." he pointed at himself, "...then I’ll be okay with it being someone else."

Vettel swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to the German’s words.

"I just want Y/N to be happy," the boy said again, "and if I have to let her go for now until you can accept and see that I’m really in love with your daughter, and that she’s the love of my life, I’ll be willing to do so."

With that, the young man turned around, trying not to look back, hoping to hear some words from those he had considered his family for so many years.

But, unfortunately for him, you and your father didn’t.

[biteyoubiteme]

rosé

yeonjun x fem!reader warnings:🔞!!! tw:stepcest, don't like don't read!, vibrator use, no penetration, mentions of biting/teeth used, panty-fucking, prob forgot some sorry wc: 2.2k an: uuummm so look away I guess I still wont take requests for this kind fic and im not tagging my usual taglist so :p pls don't read if you don't like it

“You have to be joking,” your hand is still caught on the doorknob, frozen in place as you take in the sight of your childhood bedroom. Half the space was covered in boxes, labeled in the sideways handwriting of your step-mother. But everything else was frozen in time as the day you had left for college, frozen as the last holiday you had been back, ugly Christmas sweater thrown at the edge of your bed. Even the lone mattress on the ground from where a cousin had spent the weekend was waiting to be slept in. 

And that is where Yeonjun stood, his chuckle caught between shock and humor. He was holding a half-drunk bottle of rosé, the cap still screwed on the cheap glass. “You're not very good at hiding things,” he shakes the liquid enough to draw your eyes to it. 

“Going through people's things is childish,” you mutter, tossing your bag next to the bed, “shouldn't you be in your own room?” 

It wasn't new to see him around the times that you visited, he lived only a town over, closer than you had stayed when the two of you had dispersed from home. He wanted to stay close to his mom, loved to rub it in your face when you came back that he was the better child. Your parents hadn't gotten married until the last year of high school, too soon for you to really find a connection with your new step-mom in a way that yeonjun had found with your dad. 

“They turned my room into a gym,” he kicked at the boxes littering the space, “they haven't gotten around to clearing out yours but it's going to be the guest room from now on,” 

“No-” you groaned, falling back on your bed, “I don't want a roommate for the weekend, I wanted relaxation,” it's not that you care they are changing things around but it was less appealing to have to know every time you came home you would have to spend it in the same room as any cousin, family member, or, like now, stepbrother.  Some selfish part of you hadn't liked how changed everything had become since the added members in the house had become permanent, your room had stayed yours, and if you had anything left of before it was this. 

“You don't want me around? I'm good company,” you can hear the dip in his voice, the low murmur of it making you shiver. You sit up on your elbows, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Don't take that tone with me,” but it's weak, the both of you know it, testing the line drawn in the sand every time you two had the opportunity. Spending time in such close quarters didn’t help it in the slightest. The two of you had agreed, or you had told him, that you wouldn't push it further than the teasing, and yet… 

Yeonjun’s lip lifts in a smirk, just high enough to show his teeth, calling your bluff. You remember that hazy period in time when the two of you didn't have to keep apart, fumbling kisses shared at a party, hands finding places neither of you wanted to pull away from. It was only a few weeks later when you were told about the engagement, the shock was a bucket of ice water thrown over the two of you. Suddenly flirty glances in class turned to frozen glares and when you moved in that last year together it had felt suffocating. It had been a mix of teenage annoyance and rebellion to avoid him, and you did in the short few months you spent in his company. 

Then you had both gone to college, two separate universities on opposite sides of the city. It had been easy to ignore him but easier still to find it in you to heal the indifference into tolerance. But then you found yourself at a party, the lights low and his smile just like this one now. You couldn't blame drinking, couldn't blame anything except the fact that you wanted to kiss him again, needed to devour him in the way that he had consumed your mind anytime you thought of him. 

You had been the one to stop it before it had gone too far, in the backseat of his car, grinding on him, still chasing his lips even as you said ‘We have to stop’ his soft reply of, ‘We should’ without either of you pulling away. It had been on your mind every time you saw him again, especially now. 

“Fine, but I want a thank you, I found all your contraband that you wouldn't want them to find when cleaning your room out,” he lifted the bottle again, “how long did you have this stashed in the back of your closet?” 

You had forgotten all about the bottle, less so about most things sitting in your closet, drawers, or under the bed. You had moved out your important things, anything left was by mistake or unimportant. “Who cares we are adults, a little rosé is nothing to worry over them finding,” 

“And this?” you didn't know what to expect when he lifted his hand, another lone bottle of some other drink you forgot about was nothing to worry about and yet it wasn't that. There in his hand was a slim vibrator, pink and a foreign sight in his grasp. 

“Yeonjun-” you whisper shouted, the two of you were alone in the house, the bedroom all the way up in the attic space. But it felt like you couldn't scold him loudly, your face flushing, heat spreading all over you. And he chuckled, shoulder shaking as he flicked his finger over the button to turn it on, the soft buzz making you clench your thighs. “Put it away,” 

“Should I? I charged it and it would be a shame not to use it, if even a little bit,” he stalked closer, slow like a prowl, already having his sights set on eating you alive. “And you already look like you want it on you,” you watched the way his eyes flickered down to your thighs, rubbing together as you tried to deny that they were doing so. 

“We said we wouldn't,” you whisper, hands twisting in the sheets as he leans down nose so close to bumping yours, breathing in the same air. 

“We said we shouldn't, that never stopped us before,” the last syllable is pressed right to your upper lip, the ghosting of his mouth like sweet temptation against yours, “and all I could think about since the last time was that we shouldn't have stopped, because now you're all that's ever on my mind and you're never even around to rectify that,” he leans in closer, on hand bracing beside you on the bed while you try to keep even a hairs distance from falling into his trap because once you slipped up and found yourself caught you knew you wouldn't even try to escape. “Just one kiss, please,” 

“Just one-” You couldn't even get the words out before he was on you, pressing his mouth to yours, seeking to consume you. Your hands shot out, pulling on his shirt locking him in place as he fell on top of you hardly even trying to keep his distance but you wouldn't even give him that once his lips were on yours. The two of you worked so well together, every little touch was sending sparks up and down your body. You opened your legs instinctively for him, wanted him to fit against you, slot himself in your personal space even if it was only for the length of one kiss. But that wasn't what it was, this wasn't the simple peck but a feast of pent-up want and need reduced to a single moment as if you hadn't indulged before. 

He was hot and hard, grinding against you until you were gasping into his mouth, sloppy kisses now working down your throat as he nipped at your skin, teeth looking to find every sensitive spot you had. He wanted to devour you even if he shouldn't, and you were no better. It didn't matter if you said just one kiss, the two of you knew what it meant, you had said it before and you had him on the verge of finishing untouched in his jeans but he would finish this time, he wanted to reach that spot with you. 

And you wanted it too, not caring about your previous intentions as soon as he was pressed so close to you. He reached his hand down between you two, vibrator on as he pressed it right against your clothed clit, the vibration muffled with all the fabric and yet you gasped, hips bucking up to meet the sensation. “Oh,” his open-mouthed kisses warm against the skin on your throat, your hands sliding up to his hair, twisting your fingers in the strands. He pulls away for only a second, hands falling to the waistband of your pants, needing to get them off of you. “We can't-” 

“Please- I just wanna see how wet you are for me,” he begs, forehead pressed to yours feeling your nod more than seeing it. He pulls your pants clean off, leaving you in the nearly transparent white panties you have on. Yeonjun groans at the outline of you clear as day as the fabric clings to you. He doesn't hesitate to press the vibrator right back over your clit. You try to snap your thighs closed, the one less layer making it so much harder to not react. 

His free hand comes out to trace over your cunt, fingers circling up and down as you throw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Now look at that,” he runs one finger between the fabric of your panties and your aching center, the digit coming away slick as he lifts it to his mouth to taste, your brows scrunching together as you try to hold back your whine. It's a drawn-out moan that comes from him, “You taste as good as you look,” he presses the vibrator harder on your clit, “let me fuck you- please-” 

“We shouldn't-” you try but it's caught in your throat when he clicks up the vibration, free hand back to running up and down the outside of your panties. 

“Please,” he whispers like it's ripping him apart, not being able to sink into you when you look this good. He presses his pelvis closer to you, his bulge perfect for your grinding hips to try and find a steady pace on. “Please,” he lets his hips drag along with the word, your lip caught between your teeth as you try not to cry out but it's impossible to deny him, especially when he's promising to not put it in, and you know if you say no he will stop and if you say yes you wouldn't stop him even if he did try to do more. And all you wanted was more. 

You nod, needing more of him, needing to feel something more if anything at all. He pushes his hand into his pants, tugging out his cock, veiny and slick with bubbling precum, wrist working to give it a few loose drags. You're whimpering at the sight, wishing to say to hell with not having him just fuck you into the mattress. And you almost do say ‘fuck it’ the second he presses his tip right to your covered entrance, the slick of your panties only causing him to slip, the length of him rubbing over you. 

“I won't- I won't,” he's screwing his eyes closed, shaking his head as he convinces himself more than he's telling you. Just brushing against you, feeling the vibration hitting right under his tip as he grinds down on you makes it so much worse. Every sound he's making is desperate and whiny, echoing in the room as he presses his free hand into the mattress, keeping you pressed down and in the circle of his arm. He can't control the way his hips move, just chasing the high of wanting to be in you and the feel of you so close and yet so far. 

He tries to press his tip back in, properly fucking into your panties even if there is little give before he's back to slipping and grinding back down on your cunt, clicking up the vibrator until you can feel it sending sparks all over your body, the ache in your belly turning into a blinding light before you tremble, tugging him closer to you as much as you can get. “I'm- I'm cu-” It's only a moment before your orgasm crashes into you, your body trying to pull away from the vibration and yet being stuck in place with the weight of Yeonjun over you.

And he doesn't stop or pull away, whimpering as he jerks, cock twitching right before he's spilling ropes of white all over your stomach, t-shirt a mess of it. It's not until he pulls away the vibrator, clicking it off, that he's stopped the slow dribble of cum from shooting out. 

Both of you are breathing hard, Yeonjun's face now pressing into your neck to try and hide, hips still moving, languid as he softens. “Never again,” you try to say, but both of you know the truth, especially when you're running your fingers through the hair at his sweaty temple. 

“Of course, never again,” he mutters but he's leaning right back in to kiss you. 

taglist for those who asked lol @beomiracles @beombunni and im tagging the wonderful @thetxtdevil bc she is the one who came up with this idea and gifted it to me ily mae thank you so bad-

[kizzmexoxo]

Trust Me, He’ll Never Know

Genre. Boyfriend’s best friend P.sh x reader

Warnings. CHEATING(don’t do this irl!), infidelity, overstimulation, pussy eating, virginity loss, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, noncon, dubcon, public, in a bathroom, mentions of drugs, a bit of voyuerism, making out

WC. 3k+

a/n. Don’t take this fic seriously! Don’t like, don’t read. MDNI. Separate fiction and reality. (lmk if I missed smthn!)

You loved your boyfriend, Jake. He asked you out to be his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. It was so romantic.

So tell me why right now you’re getting the best head in your life by his best friend, Park Sunghoon, in the middle of Halloween night.

During your first year of college, people, especially men, already had an eye for you. You weren’t that popular in your old school so being praised was very new to you.

College was scary, you thought, but it became easier along the way since you had made new friends. You even gained a boyfriend.

He was the very popular and the kindest boy you knew, too kind. You remembered how you had same classes together and how you caught him staring at you in class.

He reached out for you first asking to be partners in an activity. From then on, you guys eventually had gotten closer as you talked to each other more and more.

Before long, you had met his friends in a party Jake invited you in. You had to admit, his friends were very attractive. Jay, Heeseung, Jungwon, and..Sunghoon, who Jake claimed to be his bestest friend. They all greeted you with a smile claiming that they already known or heard of you. Is it because Jake talks about you a lot? You secretly chuckle at the thought.

Him and his friend group separated by then. The party was going great but it wasn’t really your type of place you turn up at. You try to look for Jake, a red cup in his hand, already mingling and having fun with other groups of people you don’t recognize. You didn’t want to disturb him. Although you were a bit bothered that he invited you to a party and left you there alone. You doubt the friends you had even attended.

You accepted your situation and decided to find a room to get you relaxed since the loud noises were bothering you a bit.

You left the area you were awkwardly standing at and went up the stairs that led to a hallway with many rooms. You try twisting the door knobs the to the doors you’ve tried to enter in but it’s either locked or someone doing drugs in. You even accidentally entered to a woman giving a man head. They immediately told you to leave in an angry tone and you quickly ran and closed the door out.

You breathed out to process what you’ve seen. That was disgusting. Though you saw something unexpected.

There was another door at the end of the hallway and you hoped no one was in there. You fairly just wanted to rest for awhile.

As you stepped near the door, you sighed because you knew that the room was already occupied due to the creaking inside. The innocent you did not know what those sounds was though.

You further realized the door had a tiny opening. You don’t know why but the curiosity got the best of you as you peeked through the crook of the door. Your jaw slightly dropped.

You saw Sunghoon. His hips thrusting, really fast as the girl you don’t know moans out his name. You stood there shocked.

You didn’t realize it but you were admiring him. His groans to every thrust, his sweat dripping from his temple to his sharp jaw, his swollen lip from him biting it repeatedly.

You snapped out of it when his head turned to the side to see you peeking. You got caught off guard and couldn’t move. You immediately left after you saw him smirking at you.

That was the last encounter you had with Jake’s best friend.

A month or so after talking, you came to a conclusion that maybe Jake like you and you liked him. After some time, Jake did ask you out and you agreed to be his girlfriend.

It all happened in Valentine’s Day when he asked you to come follow him after a movie you watched with him and his friends. It was in a parking lot when he opened up his trunk to reveal a banner saying ‘I like you. Be my girlfriend?’ written.

Of course, you said yes. Jake gave you a hug and so did you. You then realize his friends were behind you, cheering for you both and recording this special moment.

You turn around and shyly chuckle. You did catch the eyes of Sunghoon. He looked expressionless but he did show a tiny smile. But you didn’t care, you turn to Jake, your now and first boyfriend. You were happy.

It has now been months since being with Jake. You had always come over to his apartment to spend time with your boyfriend. You played games, cuddled, kissed, made out.. but never had sex yet.

You weren’t ready.

Jake is a man. He has needs, desires, but you just couldn’t give that to him. He understood it at first. But as soon as time passes by, you noticed how he became irritated by it.

He didn’t show it, but you can feel it. Whenever your make out sessions would go too far and stop him, he’d sigh and nod, but not because he understood, but because he’s disappointed.

There had been ups and downs in your relationship but that’s normal, you thought. Although this problem has been going on for awhile. Since this was your first relationship, you try to bring it up but he brushes it off saying he understands or he doesn’t care. So, you stopped bringing it up.

It was Halloween season. Fun time to dress up and party. Jake’s friend, Jay, initiated the Halloween party. You don’t hate parties but you’d rather not attend. Knowing your boyfriend, Jake, would, you gave in and went with him.

Hearing it was a costume party, you wanted to have a couple costume with Jake, dressing up as peanut butter and jelly.

Jake disagreed, saying it was too corny. Of course, you laughed it off. He chose a cop and prisoner costume instead. You had no choice but to agree to avoid disappointing him.

You were the cop, the costume was a bit too tight that it aligned your curves pretty well. It’s shorts barely covering ass cheeks that you have to pull the material down some more. You had a fake baton and a cop hat to fit the police aesthetic. While Jake simply wore an orange jumpsuit with buttons unbuttoned half way until his waist, revealing his white tank top underneath. He looked happy with the costumes he suggested. So you.. are happy.

Jake and you arrived Jay’s large modern house. It wasn’t a mansion but it was pretty big. Cars surrounding it, colorful lights everywhere and the sound of muffled music blasted out loud. This was your first Halloween party, but you didn’t know it would be this intense.

You and Jake entered and Jake was greeted with many people. He was popular after all. Though everyone knew he had a girlfriend, that was you, girls would still look at him the same way, like they had hearts on their eyes. You can’t blame them, he is very handsome. You didn’t mind it since you knew that he was yours. He chose you.

It’s been hours since the party started. Music blasting out loud, people partying, dancing, drinking. It was suffocating. You had been following Jake all night as well. Him laughing and having fun while you’re just there at the side, like a puppy following her owner.

You even had 4 shots, to stand the loud noises. Though that didn’t help. You gently tug Jake’s cloth from his arm. He turned around to you, panting from all the dancing and laughing.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Jake still half smiling from all the fun time his having.

“I don’t feel good. Can we leave?”

“Already?” His smile faded bit by bit.

You couldn’t stand him being sad by missing out a party he was having fun at so you give him a forced smile.

“Just kidding! I’m probably just tired from all the shots. I’ll go to the restroom.”

He smiled again. He looks so adorable. He gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, don’t take so long!”

You nodded and left him there.

After minutes, that felt like hours, you couldn’t find the bathroom. You panicked. You wanted to pee so fucking bad. You walked up the stairs, and due to squeezing your thighs to hold you pee, you accidentally trip and fell to a man’s chest. He caught you by holding both of your elbows with both your arms placed on his chest.

You shivered on the weird feeling between your thighs as you whined. “Fuck, I’m sorry-“ you looked up to see Sunghoon, in a pilot costume, already staring at your disheveled look.

“S-Sunghoon!”

“Hey” he smirked.

“Do you know where the restroom is?” You looked at him with a pleading look.

“I do”

“Where? I need to go!”

Instead of taking you there, he looks down to your costume. Clearly checking you out.

“Sunghoon! I really need to go.” You say hitting his chest gently.

That snapped him out of his trance and chuckled. “Can you even walk? I don’t think you can make it.”

“I could if you would just shut up! Take me now!” You say in the verge of wetting yourself. Fuck this is so humiliating.

He chuckles one more time before dragging you down the hallway and lead you to the bathroom. You finally got to go and sighed with relief.

As you opened the bathroom door to walk out, he was standing my the side with his arms crossed. He tilted his head to meet your eyes.

“Thanks..” You mutter, looking away. It was silent for awhile.

Before you look back at him, he suddenly pushed you inside the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He leans his back onto the door and gave out a loud sigh with his eyes roaming all over your body. “Fuck..” he groaned softly.

You gulped and blushed. You felt like you were naked just from his gaze.

“W-what..?”

“You look uncomfortable in that costume.” He says so nonchalantly.

“Why do you care.” You mumble, slightly looking away.

You could hear his steps, walking towards you.

“I ask myself that too.” He was in front of you, so close.

You softly gasp as you felt his cold, large hands on the side of your face, turning your head to meet his eyes. Soon you did, you can see his darkened eyes underneath that pilot hat. But a hint of something soft within them.

“Sunghoon..”

“Keep saying my name like that.” He steps even closer. Now your lower back hitting the bathroom counter.

“Stop it.” You say in a stern voice.

“Stop what?”

“This. You.”

He places his free hand on your other side, now trapping you. “I don’t want to.” He says in a very low tone, almost possessive.

“I have a boyfriend. Your best friend.”

He sighs, your lips feeling his minty breath. He didn’t say anything but leaned closer, his goal to smash his lips into yours. Is he really going to risk his friendship over you?

You stopped him by placing both your hands into his chest. “Really.. stop.” You shakily sigh from the sensation.

“Shit. You little..” He drops his hand from your palm to place it on your other side to the counter and let his head fall to the crook of your neck. He sniffs your scent, letting out a little moan as he breaths out.

“You’re driving me crazy.” He grinds his bulge to your clothed cunt.

“S-Sunghoon. No..!”

He ignores your plea, continuing to grind himself in you. Even if you were both clothed, you can still how hard and large his bulge is. Fuck he was huge. You would never let Jake do this. So why.. why are you letting Sunghoon-

He suddenly bites into your neck, replacing the sharp pain with his drool. Licking it up to your ear. His tongue reaching to your earlobe, gently biting it before his tongue enters your ear salivating it all over.

You gasp and whimper at the tickling and pleasuring sensation. You should stop him.. now. Do it now, your mind tells you to. But your body won’t move.

“Hoon.. please..” you whimper. That was his last straw.

He pulled his tongue out of your ear and grabbed your thighs to push them up the bathroom counter, resulting you to sit on top of it as he held your thighs open. Your heart beats faster, seeing the sight of him kneeling down with his hands still resting on your lower thighs, spreading it open just for him.

Your thoughts of Jake faded slowly, bit by bit, while he starts to unbuckle your belt and drag your shorts down. Your soaked underwear was now exposed for him to see.

Sunghoon licks his lips before his face digs into your clothed cunt. Sniffing it before he licks the wet slick in your underwear. You gasp and whined at the sensation.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

With no warning, he rips your white underwear.

“H-hoon!!” You softly yell at him.

“Need your pussy so bad.” He says before digging his mouth in your wet cunt.

“F-fuck..!” You quietly moaned.

You had started to moan from his tongue swirling inside your tight hole while his nose pokes your clit. He didn’t take long to move up to your clit and started sucking like his life depended on it. You tasted so good to him.

You could already feel your orgasm coming.

“H-hoonie.. I feel weird..!”

Gosh. He loves that nickname you made up for him on the spot.

“You’re just feeling good.” He says in between sucking your clit.

Finally you reached your orgasm, which made you moan out, your thighs squeezing his head as he continued to suck.

“Fuck, Hoonie, stop please!” He was overstimulating you. He continued to suck on your clit even faster and harder.. it felt so good. More than good.

“Squirt on my face, baby..” he moaned in your wet clit while he continues to slurp and suck. His mouth making lewd noises.

At long at last, you moaned out loud, hearing yourself squirt juices out of your pussy.

You leaned your head back onto the hard surface behind you, panting from just getting the best and first head ever.

You saw Sunghoon stand up from his knees, licking his mouth. His face was covered with your juices. He looked like he wanted more.

“E-enough..” you continue to pant.

He smirks down at you and trapped you into the counter again with both his hands. “We’re not close to finishing yet, baby.”

He unbuckles his belt, his pants dropping down to reveal only his boxers with a bulge in between it. Should you tell him you were a virgin? You should have. You could have. But you didn’t.

Instead you froze, your legs still opened, inviting him to enter.

He took his boxers off and disclosed his large dick. You can see his veins pulsing around it, needing release.

He positioned it onto your core, rubbing it between your folds to retrieve your wet slick to mix it with his precum.

You whimper feeling his dick between your folds.

“Hoon.. we really can’t do this. Jake..”

“Don’t worry about him. Trust me, he’ll never know.”

With those words that did not seem reliable at all, you squeal at the sharp pain you feel when his tip slowly entered inside you.

“H-Hoon! No please! Take it out!”

“Shh..” he grabs the back of your neck and pulled you in to give you a gentle kiss. Suddenly pushing his whole dick inside of you, causing you to squeal loudly in pain onto his lips. He shut you out immediately by smashing his lips onto yours roughly. His teeth biting your lower lip that made you slightly open your lips, his tongue in a rush to enter your mouth.

Meanwhile, his dick pulling out of your walls, just to slide it back with full force.

You moan out loud as he continues to eat your face out while he pounds into your tight cunt.

He pulls away from you, “So tight.” He groans, slightly leaning his head back, his pace starting to become faster.

“N-no.. hoonie!! Please pull it out..” Your hands stay on his shoulders from trying to push him away but to no avail since he wouldn’t budge.

His pace quickens and pounds into your wet and tight cunt with no care in the world. He looks at you with a dark and lust in his eyes.

“Why can’t it just be me..” he groans, his mouth hung open from the feeling of your tight pussy clenching onto his hard dick. “I saw you first.” He grunts, every hard thrust he made, hitting your g spot.

You moan when you felt his tip hitting your cervix. “I’ll treat you better.” His hips were now on full force, fucking you so hard, your back hitting the hard surface behind you. His head back to the crook of your neck, panting into your skin. The pain slowly turned to pleasure. You felt so wet inside, especially his dick dragging your walls up and down.

With the only energy you had left, you mumble his name, “Hoon..” that made sunghoon’s hair in his arms rise and close to his orgasm.

“Say my name like that. Come on.” He groans.

“Hoon.. Hoonie..”

He gave you a hard thrust one last time while pace slows down. His orgasm releases inside of you. You could feel how warm it is.. how wet he made you feel inside.

You both panted, he slowly pulls out his dick from inside your pussy as his cum leaks out.

“You’re so beautiful.” He gave you one more kiss, that was passionate, on the lips.

You stared back into his eyes, now showing softness instead of lust. You return his kiss, a kiss that was risky. A kiss that was not supposed to happen. But what do you do now. Sunghoon was all you could think of.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

as soft as a misty rain

synopsis. it's all typical sanji; there's no deeper meaning to his actions. until it isn't all typical sanji and there are many meanings to everything he does.

pairing. vinsmoke sanji x f!reader

word count. 1.3k | masterlist

content warning. recently established relationship, allusions that sanji's past is more complicated than he lets on, reader has a defined devil fruit ability

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

one of two reposts i'm doing today with my valentine's day event nearly completed. this fic was a gift for my friend @hash-slinging-slasher-trash and i wanted it over here too

Sanji has always handled you with care.

There is nothing to realize. It’s an objective fact that has been apparent from almost the very moment you met on Charmed Enclave. Aside from children, there are very specific individuals Sanji will always be gentle with. An enthusiastic softness, eager and ready to serve at the drop of a hat.

I’m not special, you had told yourself, clutching Zoro’s previous warnings tightly. He does this for every woman, with or without a pulse.

It didn’t matter how many treats he brought you, reserved solely for you.

There was no deeper meaning to when he held out his hand to help you down a few steps.

Nor did it matter if he’d push Zoro onto a puddle for you to walk across like a coat taking in all the liquid, amusing as it had been.

It’s all typical Sanji.

The question is raised when it isn’t typical Sanji; that is what makes your skin buzz as Sanj’s fingers thrum across your own. What makes your chest warm as you watch as he wraps a cloth around your palms and your fingers, how he touches you as if protecting a thousand treasures.

“I won’t lie and say the Nervy Nervy Fruit isn’t useful,” Sanji murmurs with a sigh. “But if you can’t feel pain, how are you supposed to recognize your limits? Like the other day.”

You chuckle sheepishly and Sanji’s expression is uncharacteristically sharp, unamused at the display. You are sure he will be sour about your turning off your pain receptors to test the heat of the stovetop a while longer. The blond has been fretting over you like a mother hen even since. “I’ll try to be more mindful,” you promise when your chuckles subside, letting your gaze rest on your connected hands. As of now, you’ve only dulled your senses to a light discomfort. Enough to feel everything without wanting to croak from your injuries. “But this time I was distracted, I normally don’t singe myself when I check how hot the stove is.”

That does little to sway Sanji in your favor.

“I’ll be more careful,” you dramatically let your head hang as if you’re being reprimanded by your boss.

“You’ll make Chopper sad otherwise,” despite his words, Sanji sounds satisfied with the conclusion. “Think about Chopper. That’s what you told me, remember?”

Your shoulders shake with hearty laughter, “don’t use my words against me,” you beam brightly with a hint of challenge. “And you should be thanking me. Quitting smoking is going to help you in the long run. What if they started calling you Black Lung Sanji? What would you do then?” Not to mention with how impressionable the young reindeer is, the last thing you want is to see him attempting to take a smoke break between patients.

With how hectic things tend to get for the Straw Hats, it is too easy to envision.

Sanji’s cigarettes and lighter had to go for the greater good.

As your laughter subsides, a comfortable silence settles over you both.

“So,” you feel possessed to break it. Comfortable as it may be, you fear you’ll drown in it. Sink deeper and deeper in it until you do something foolish, whatever foolish thing that may be. It’s easy to drown as a power holder, it is why you are always careful around the water’s edge. What happens when you find a piece of the ocean you aren’t afraid to fall into, however. You’ve never been prepared for that. “Have you always wanted to become a cook? I know that’s what you were doing before you joined the crew.”

At your query, Sanji’s eyes shine like a child’s, “it is.” As if he’s water flowing over a dam, Sanji tells you about his home in the East Blue. The floating restaurant, the Baratie ー a concept you’ve never certainly thought possible ー and the fighting cooks that reside in it.

He tells you about Zeff and the many cooks that joined his ranks over the years. Laughter falls from your lips as easily as the stories leave Sanji’s. 

The Baratie sounds more like the Waffle House restaurant chain throughout your home island than anything else. At the tail end of Sanji’s story about how a line cook named Peter got into a fist fight with three drunks and a cranky chicken, you finally ask, “what made you love cooking so much?”

“I’ve always enjoyed it, but I’d say my mom is the one who really encouraged it,” he tells you thoughtfully, his hands moving slower against your own as he recalls the woman. He should have long since finished, you know, but you don’t mind that he’s stalled in his ‘wound tending efforts’. It’s nice feeling as if it is only you on the ship when in reality you are just the only ones awake. “I liked making her lunches, not that I was always good at it. But even if it tasted like garbage, she always ate it,” the blond’s dark eyes are miles away from where you sit on the Sunny. “Then she’d ask me to make her something else again.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” you try to imagine what such a gentle person looks like. I think you probably look a lot like her. A good portion of the woman’s character certainly had been imbued in her son. He’s always been gentle and kind, you’ve seen it in how he treats Chopper.

It’s easy to baby the crew’s smallest member, but there is something unique in how everyone does it. Sanji was meant to be a father. It’s a thought that flusters you, but you know it is true regardless. It’s a bit too soon to think about that though.

“It,” Sanji’s gaze doesn’t meet yours as his thumb brushes over the back of your cloth-covered hand. You aren’t able to dwell long on what exactly your newly minted boyfriend means, however, as he continues on. “will probably be easier meeting Zeff than my mother. He’s a stubborn old fart but he means well. You’ll like him. Just don’t believe anything those jackasses at the Baratie tell you about me. I just know they put up that god awful wanted poster of me where everyone can see it.”

A giggle slips from your lips at Sanji’s distressed expression and you recall how he begged for you to pretend the portrait didn’t exist. 

It’s easy to imagine all the cantankerous characters he mentioned growing up with. Zeff, Patty, Carne and you can easily picture the boisterous men hanging Sanji’s wanted poster for all to see like proud parents and uncles. Ones very good at teasing their group’s baby. The men who made Black Leg Sanji ‘Black Leg Sanji’.

“I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sanji pauses at your words before he lips stretch into a dreamy smile and you let yourself arrogantly assume he’s picturing the same things you are. “I can’t wait to introduce you to them.” With that, his tending to your hand is finished, cloth gently knotted so it can’t move. “I’m no Chopper, so he’ll probably have to redo it once he wakes up.”

You smile at his handiwork, “thanks again.” You think that will be the end of your little moment, but rather than let your hand go Sanji holds your fingers a touch tighter.

“Can I kiss your hand,” the cook asks earnestly, dark eyes reserved yet hopeful.

“You don’t have to ask permission for that,” your chest burns a gold the color of Sanji’s hair. It’s unfair how easily he gets your heart pounding like a drum. In spite of your words, he doesn’t lean forward an inch. “Of course you can,” you grumble, eyes darting to a particularly interesting piece of wood in your embarrassment.

The hair of his chin dances across your skin like raindrops.

[frmisnow]

ㅤ▌ ͟PINK RIBBONS & PRETTY LITTLE LIES! ⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀ ♬᭢ 𝟏.𝟓𝐤 smut . nsfw

SUMMARY in which you wear the set of lingerie that jungkook got you last valentine.. back when everything was going well (aka. before you broke up) ─── and he's reminded of how it felt to be yours and vice versa

jungkook shouldn't be here.

he knows it the second he steps through the threshold, the air too sweet, too warm, too familiar. it clings to his skin like a your perfume used to, drowning him in déjà vu. he’s been inside this apartment before — slept in that bed, kissed against that kitchen counter, fucked on that couch.

but right now? he's just a visitor. hell, a guest. not even a welcomed one, at that.

“you said you needed something?” your voice is a bit lower then usual, cautious, the same way it always is when you don’t know what to do with him.

jungkook blinks, coming back to himself. “yeah,” he says, tugging at his sleeve. “uh. my charger.”

it’s a lie. a shitty one.

your brow lifts, unconvinced clearly a bit amused. “your charger?”

“yeah,” he repeats, stuffing his hands into his pockets doing his best as to not act like he’s not already regretting this. “i think i left it here last time.”

he doesn’t mention that last time was two months ago, right before everything went to shit.

you’re still watching him, lips pressed together like you want to say something, maybe call him out. but then you sigh, defeated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ll check,” you reply simply, before turning towards your bedroom.

and that’s when he sees it.

just a glimpse, a flash of pink — delicate, silky, peeking out from beneath your shirt. a thin little strap sliding against your shoulder, trailing down your back, thin and precise.

valentine’s day. the last one — before everything went to shit.

he still remembers it in vivid, aching detail, the way the night bled into morning, how thd walls shook from how hard he fucked you, the imprint of your nails down his back when he m ade you come for the fourth time. how ruined you sounded, voice hoarse from moaning his name, from begging, from pleading — not that you ever needed to. jungkook would have given you anything.

he did.

i got you something, he’d said, fingers running along your spine as you sat on his lap, bare and so fucking soft. you gotta open it, though.

you had, with a lazy, knowing smile — already looking at him like you knew whatever was inside would be sinful. after all, you knew him so well.

the second you pulled out the pink lace, you’d laughed. "you’re such a perv."

yeah? his teeth had found your shoulder, licking over the fragile skin, before biting into it gently. put it on for me, then.

and fuck, you had. you did.

he’d known you’d look good in it, but nothing could have prepared him for how perfect it was — how the fabric hugged your tits, how the straps stretched over your hips, how the sheer paneling did little to nothing in hiding the way your cunt was already glistening for him.

then, fucked you slow at first, dragging it out, making you whimper, making y ou work for it. made you ride him just so he could watch you — so he could see how your tits bounced in that pretty little thing, so he could slip his hands under the fabric and yank until it nearly tore. he’d wanted to see you in it, wanted to make you come in it, wanted to make sure the next time you put it on, all you’d think about was him.

and now — now you’re wearing it again.

not for him.

something ugly twists in his chest.

“why?” his voice is quieter than he means for it to be. rougher.

you freeze, hand still reaching for the box on the top shelf. “what?”

“why are you wearing it?”

there’s a visable pause, just a second, showing you clearly gave more thought into this, then you pretended.

jungkook steps forward, fingers twitching. “did you wear it for him?”

he doesn’t say the name. doesn’t need to.

your shoulders go stiff, but you don’t turn around. “It’s just lingerie, jungkook.”

his jaw clenches. “it wasn’t just lingerie when I bought it for you.”

a deep inhale, measured. “things change.”

his presence is suffocating behind you. close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his breaths are heavier now. fuck, when did he even manage to get so close? you swallow, slow. "it’s just lingerie," you repeat, but there’s no actual conviction behind it.

“take it off.”

jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, a scoff bordering on a laugh, like he's going fucking insane. which by the way this conversation was going, he probably will. then, he’s closing the distance in one step, inked hands gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so your spine meets his chest. he’s warm. solid.

there's something familar and comforting in feeling him.

“you wore this for him?” his palm drags under your shirt, right to tracing over the lace, which was just as silky as he remembered “him?” like it was an insult to him personally.

you swallow. “jungkook—”

“tell me he made you come in it.” his hand moving below your waistline, flattens against your core. you suck in a sharp breath, heat pooling between your thighs. “tell me he fucked you in my lingerie.” his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tighter against him. his cock is rock hard, pressing into the small of your back.

“did he make you feel good?” he tilts his head, pressing a kiss to your neck. “did he make you beg?” another kiss, softer. his fingers press harder. “did he make you cry for it?”

you gasp, hips bucking forward.

“i bet he didn’t,” jungkook murmurs, his fingers slip under the lace, gliding over your slit audibly groaning at how wet you were, “bet he didn’t fuck you like you deserved.”

“bet he didn’t even touch you like this.” he slides a finger inside you, slow, deep. you whimper, "baby, i know he can't."

your head falls back onto his shoulder, a soft string of noise slipping past of your lips while his thumb rubs gentle circles around your clit, “i can love you so much better than he can.”

you breathe his name out, barerly, rocking your hips against his hand. “fuck,” he hisses, sliding another finger inside you. his lips ghost over your neck, pressing a few more kisses onto the skin, his breathing uneven. “need you, baby.”

his fingers move before his mind does, turning your head to his direction as he presses his lips onto yours, effectively lifting you onto the dresser behind you.

jungkook doesn’t realize he’s barerly breathing until you turn to face him, arms folding over your chest, pushing your tits up against the delicate lace. he can’t even be mad anymore. not when you look like this.

“jungkook,” you start, voice quieter than before. maybe even a little guilty. maybe not.

“can love you so much better than he can,” he breathes against your mouth, lips brushing, voice smitten almost as if he was begging. “you know that, right? you know.”

the hesitation in your eyes almost kills him. but then — then you sigh, melting against him, pressing into his chest with a softness that makes something in his stomach twist. your arms loop around his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair, tugging.

“kook,” you whimper, voice barely above a whisper as if it were a secret, only between the both of you. “kiss me.”

while groaning, jungkook drags you up against him, hands gripping at the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs around his waist. kisses you until you’re gasping, until you’re tilting your head back, mouth agape, letting him trail his mouth down the curve of your jaw, your throat, biting down when he reaches your collarbone.

he stumbles toward the bed, nearly toppling both of you over when he lays you down, panting, hands running over your thighs, pushing them apart. his cock aches in his sweats, already damp at the tip, already too hard to be rational.

“you wore this for him?” he asks again, just to watch you squirm. just to see the way your cheeks flush, the way your brows pinch together, that guilty expression that was almost grazing slutty.

“it’s just lingerie,” you whisper, shaky. who were you even fooling? not jungkook, that's for sure.

he snickers, disapprovingly yet there was no real malice, not in his gaze, not in his tone. he licks over the lace first, just to make you whine, pressing the fabric against your soaked cunt with his tongue, groaning at the taste. then, he tugs the panties to the side again, diving in properly, flattening his tongue against you.

your thighs jolt, fingers curling into the sheets, a choked gasp escaping when jungkook drags his tongue up your slit, slow, deliberate, savoring.

“fuck,” he mutters against you, hot breath sending a shiver up your spine. he licks again, rougher this time, pressing in, teasing at your entrance before flicking back up to your clit.

your breath stutters, hips bucking, but his hands are already on you, gripping, holding you down with a bruising force.

“keep still,” he says, voice thick, taunting. you can only whimper, thighs trembling, while jungkook hums in approval, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking, slow and deep. your fingers find his hair, tugging, and he groans, pressing his tongue against you harder.

“so fuckin’ sweet,” he breathes, slipping a hand between your legs, thumb rubbing slow circles over your slick folds, spreading your wetness. “bet he’s never had you like this, huh?”

you don’t answer. can’t. not when jungkook slides a finger inside you, then another, stretching you, pressing deep until he finds that spot that has you gasping, back arching. oh sweet sweet past, guess some things really do stay the same.