#and now i have to spend the rest of my life knowing i had it and never will again

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 GOOD LUCK, BABE! jang wonyoung x reader

♪ ❝you can say it's just the way you are make a new excuse, another stupid reason❞ ⭢ moonstruck (read this first)

↳ warnings paranoia!yn,, yn from this fic, angst, fluff

if you asked both yn and wonyoung how well they remember the day they met, yn would probably say it’s a bit fuzzy, like a memory softened by time. wonyoung, though, she’d say she remembers it like it was just yesterday, like she remembers every day with yn.

funny how the one who never forgets is the reason they became something worth forgetting.

the girl next door, that’s what yn was. not to wonyoung, but to chaewon.

to chaewon, yn was the annoying next door neighbor. her exact words when she introduced yn to the rest of iz*one were, “this is my annoying next door neighbor, yn. she’s a trainee and producer at sm, along with these two other guys.”

wonyoung found it so impressive that someone as young as her was a producer and a trainee, it made her want to learn how it happened, she also couldn’t help but notice how pretty the girl was.

it was the way yn carried herself, the way she spoke, the way she looked effortless yet striking. and just like that, wonyoung had to know more.

yn tilted her head, watching the girl across from her talk animatedly with someone she knew as yujin. chaewon had banished her to sit with the two youngest members while the rest of the girls made food in the kitchen.

wonyoung. of course, yn knew of her, how could she not? and after their awkward introduction earlier, she was sure wonyoung knew of her too.

"I’m wonyoung," the center said with a bright smile. yn tried her best to return it.

"I know," yn said, tilting her head with a teasing grin. "chaewon unnie just said your name."

yn let out a small laugh, tilting her head to look at chaewon who raised a brow at them.

“so you and I are same age right?” yujin snapped yn out of her daze.

yn nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “yeah, that’s what chaewon unnie said.”

the conversation carried on from there, flowing naturally between her, yujin, and wonyoung. yn was curious about idol life what it was like to debut, to have a fandom, to be recognized everywhere they went. yujin and wonyoung, in turn, were just as curious about her. being a trainee and a producer at sm, especially at such a young age, wasn’t exactly normal.

they asked how she balanced everything, how she handled the pressure, what her days even looked like.

yn, ever so casually, mentioned the boys wonbin and jay and that was when wonyoung��s interest seemed to shift. her questions became more direct, more personal. it wasn’t just about training anymore, she wanted to know about yn. what she liked, what she hated, what kind of music she was into.

there was something different in her tone, the way she leaned in slightly whenever yn spoke, eyes locked onto her like she didn’t want to miss a single word. it got to the point where it felt like it was only the two of them talking, the rest of the world fading into the background.

after that night, yujin was the one who reached out first. she wanted a friend her age, someone outside the idol world but still close enough to understand.

yn had no problem with that, hanging out with yujin was easy, fun, and natural. and just like that they became close, spending time together whenever their schedules allowed.

one afternoon, yujin invited yn over to the dorms. they ended up in yujin’s room, sprawled out on the bed, laughing over the dumbest things, teasing each other like they’d been friends forever. yn had stolen one of yujin’s plushies, holding it hostage while yujin tried (and failed) to take it back.

“give it back!” yujin whined, dramatically collapsing onto the bed.

“this is mine now,” yn said, squeezing the plushie tightly against her chest. “he told me he doesn’t like you anymore.”

yujin gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “betrayed… by my own plushie? how could you?”

yn burst into laughter, tossing the plushie back at her. “fine, fine. take him back,”

before yujin could respond, the door creaked open.

“yujin, our manager wants you for a—” wonyoung’s words cut off as she stepped inside, her eyes landing on the scene in front of her.

yn was lounging on yujin’s bed, her hair slightly messy from rolling around, one hand lazily pushing her bangs out of her face. her oversized deftones graphic tee had ridden up slightly, and she was absentmindedly tugging it higher, cropping it without thinking.

wonyoung stumbled over her words, blinking rapidly. “I—uh—”

yujin frowned. “what’s wrong with you?”

wonyoung quickly shook her head. “nothing, she wants you for a meeting.”

yujin sighed, pushing herself up. “of course she does. can’t let me have a single moment of peace.” she turned to yn, giving her a pointed look. “don’t do anything dumb while I’m gone.”

yn raised her arms in mock defense. “I’m innocent.”

“sure you are.” yujin rolled her eyes before glancing back at wonyoung. “keep her company.”

wonyoung nodded, stepping further inside as yujin left the room. there was a brief moment of silence before yn smirked, tilting her head.

“so,” she drawled, “didn’t expect to see me here?”

wonyoung cleared her throat, crossing her arms. “why would I care if you’re here?”

yn chuckled, shifting so she was sitting up properly. “no reason. you just looked… surprised, that’s all.”

wonyoung scoffed. “you’re imagining things.”

“am I?” yn teased, leaning in slightly. “you’ve been looking at me a lot, y’know.”

wonyoung rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. instead, she sat on yujin’s bed, her knee brushing against yn’s. “so what? maybe you’re just fun to look at.” she didn’t know what she was doing and why she was flirting back, but it felt right, it felt fun.

yn smiled. “oh? does that mean you think I’m cute?”

“you wish,” wonyoung shot back, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

they continued, playful back and forths, wonyoung pretending not to be affected while yn pushed just enough to keep her on her toes.

by the time yujin came back, wonyoung was slipping her number into yn’s phone, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary before she stood up.

“text me,” she murmured, before leaving without another word, what am I doing?

and that was the start of their situationship.

they fell into something that wasn’t quite defined, but it didn’t need to be. moments blurred into each other wonyoung showing up at the studio when yn was both training and producing, bringing her food, making sure she didn’t overwork herself.

yn pulling wonyoung aside in empty hallways, pressing quick kisses against her lips before disappearing like nothing had happened.

wonyoung meeting the boys, wonbin and jay they immediately started ruining yn’s reputation, jokingly of course “be careful with her,” jay had joked, “she’s got a habit of breaking hearts.” “shut up!”

late night food runs, their hands brushing as they reached for the same snack, quiet laughter filling the air as they wandered through neon lit streets.

it was fun. it was exciting. but all highs eventually reach an end.

wonyoung started to realize how serious it was getting, how real it felt. and she couldn’t take it. she was supposed to like boys. this was supposed to be just for fun.

when she got a text from yn one night, inviting her over “movie?” she knew she had to end it.

they hung out like always, laughing, teasing, pretending everything was fine. but then, out of nowhere, wonyoung blurted out-

“this can’t happen.”

yn frowned. “huh?”

“us,” wonyoung said, voice unsteady. “we can’t happen. I like boys. I don’t like girls.”

yn let out a short laugh, but there was something nervous in it. “haha, you’re so funny.”

wonyoung shook her head. “I’m not joking.”

yn’s smile faltered. “you were just…?”

wonyoung hesitated. “Inhave strong feelings for you, but it can’t be romantic.”

yn let out a breathy laugh, but this one was sharp, bitter. “you’re delusional.”

wonyoung’s voice cracked. “we can’t be together. I don’t like girls. I was just—I don’t know what I was doing with you.”

“so what,” yn scoffed, voice laced with hurt, “you were just using me for your closeted urges?”

wonyoung looked at her with tear filled eyes, “I’m not closeted, I just- I just was being weird I don’t know what I was thinking, I don’t like girls.”

“right,” yn said, voice barely above a whisper, “maybe you should leave,”

wonyoung swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, we can still be friends, that’s what girls do, they’re friends.”

yn let out of laugh of disbelief, before grabbing wonyoung’s arm ignoring wonyoung’s yn please and dragging her to the door, “you’re ridiculous.”

the door shut behind wonyoung, leaving yn alone. she threw herself onto the couch, face buried in the pillow, and screamed. she stayed like that for an hour until the boys came back.

“what’s wrong with you?” jay asked, looking at her suspiciously.

yn lifted her head, her voice hollow. “nothing.”

wonbin and jay exchanged a look.

one look was all it took. yn broke, throwing herself into them, sobs wracking her body as they held her.

“it’s okay,” jay murmured, rubbing her back.

“you’re okay,” wonbin added.

but yn wasn’t sure if she believed them.

and that’s the story of yn and wonyoung

[xhazzz]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky Barnes Headcanons

warnings: fluff, sexual references, bucky being a big baby

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong:)

masterlist || requests are open

- He’s totally into reality shows. Because of his insomnia and the constant nightmares that haunt him, sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he kisses your forehead and tucks you in before leaving his room. He just sits on the couch, watching TV with the volume as low as possible, hoping it’ll lull him back to sleep. Since he’s an old man who still hasn’t quite figured out how streaming platforms work, his only option is to watch reruns of MasterChef, Love Island, or Hell’s Kitchen. Obviously, this wouldn’t help him sleep—he’d end up completely hooked instead.

- As part of his therapy—something he was forced into by Steve, the rest of the Avengers, the government, and you—he started writing in a small notebook he could carry everywhere (just like Steve). He wrote about his nightmares, memories of his life before becoming the Winter Soldier, but his favorite thing to write about was you. He’d write about how beautiful you are, how safe you make him feel, and how grateful he is to have met you.

- Going grocery shopping with Bucky is an experience in itself. Even though it’s become a regular thing since meeting you and going out together, he never stops being amazed by the endless aisles, the new products, and everything you can find in stores. He was used to small corner shops with basic products from the ‘40s, so now, one of his favorite activities is walking down the Oreo aisle every time you go shopping and trying a new flavor.

- A few months into your relationship, Bucky knew he wanted to spend every single day with you. Even though he had started staying over at your apartment a few nights a week, it wasn’t enough for him. One day, Sam asked why he didn’t just ask you to move in with him. Bucky, completely shocked by the suggestion, said he thought it was way too soon to be thinking about marriage—he didn’t want you to feel pressured. Sam just laughed and told him that moving in together was something a lot of couples did nowadays, simply living together before marriage. “We’re not in the ‘40s anymore, old man.”

- Bucky would definitely buy you flowers just because. At first, he thought it was a bit old-fashioned, but after seeing the look of happiness on your face the first time he gave you a small bouquet, he made it a habit. Every chance he gets, he buys flowers—just to make you smile.

- The Winter Soldier could have taken down entire armies, completed missions in seconds, and slipped through enemy territory undetected, but Bucky Barnes? He would have starved to death because the only things he knows how to make are sandwiches and cereal with milk. One of his personal goals was to cook you a romantic dinner—your favorite dish. After buying all the ingredients and failing twice, he finally swallowed his pride and asked Sam for help (mainly to teach him how to use YouTube, since he’s basically a caveman when it comes to modern technology). He managed to put together something that looked decent but tasted surprisingly good. He set the table, bought fresh flowers, and lit a few candles. A total romantic.

- The first time you were together—sexually—he was terrified of not knowing his own strength and hurting you. He treated you like you were made of porcelain, leaving soft kisses along your neck and chest, holding your body with delicate hands. When his metal hand trailed down your bare legs, you shivered slightly from the cold touch. He immediately stopped, worried. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” But all it took to reassure him was pulling him down by the neck and kissing him again.

- Once your relationship progressed, though? Bucky became completely shameless. He was like a horny teenager, taking every free moment to have his way with you all over the apartment—the kitchen counter, the laundry room, the couch, the shower. Even in public, he’d lean in close and whisper dirty things in your ear. “I can’t wait to get home, spread your legs, and taste you, babydoll.” And when no one was looking, his hand would accidentally land on your ass, or he’d give you a playful smack.

- Of course, when it comes to aftercare, he’s as sweet as they come. He always makes sure he didn’t hurt you, asks if you need water or if you’re hungry. Thanks to the serum, he doesn’t even look tired��but you? You’re completely spent after the multiple orgasms he gave you. All you want to do is lay on his chest, curl up in the crook of his neck while he holds you close, tracing imaginary shapes on your back. Every now and then, while the two of you talk about random things, Bucky presses soft kisses to your forehead, his metal hand gently caressing your legs.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

8: PAINTBALL, PUNS AND PLANS

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter (pending)

Summary: A bachelorette party turns into a chaotic day of paintball, bruises, and a little too much fun. By the time dinner rolls around, exhaustion and cocktails lead to meddling friends taking matters into their own hands— by texting your "mystery boyfriend" without your knowledge. When Bucky actually shows up, the girls are left wondering: is he really your secret boyfriend, or have they just summoned The Winter Soldier to a bridal party?

Warnings: Mild swearing, alcohol use, meddling friends, and one very skeptical bridesmaid, fluff, humor, and a slightly tipsy reader.

Word Count: 3500

“I TEXTED YOU. YOU DIDN’T REPLY.”

“DID YOU PRESS SEND?”

You’d been up since the ass crack of dawn. When it came to your friends, you couldn’t say no. Everything had to be perfect for them. Although, setting up flags on a paintball battlefield wasn’t how you’d imagined spending the morning of Hanna and Aditi’s bachelorette party, but it was what they wanted— a day of adrenaline, followed by a night of indulgence— so you had obliged.

By the time you’d finished hanging up the flags, checking the boundaries of the field and making sure the bridesmaids had their protective gear, you were already feeling a little worse for wear. It hadn’t helped that you’d not gone to bed until 2am, checking and rechecking all the details of the plan. Luckily Hanna and Aditi’s excitement was infectious and you found yourself getting a second wind as you donned your jumpsuit and grabbed a paintball rifle.

The next few hours were sheer chaos. Camille, Aditi’s coworker, had taken the game far too seriously, barking out orders to incomprehensible strategies like she was leading a tactical unit. She was the chief resident on Aditi’s residency program. When you had first met her you had got the impression that she didn’t like you. Now you were convinced, since she targeted you almost exclusively. Her shots were relentless and you swore she was out for blood.

“Damn, Camille,” you called out, ducking behind a bunker after another near miss. “You know this isn’t actually a life or death scenario, right?”

Her response was a cheeky grin and another well-aimed shot that exploded right next to your head, splatting yellow paint across the side of your face and in your hair. You groaned and Hanna dived behind the bunker beside you to save herself from Aditi’s fire. Luckily, her poor aim compensated for Camille’s sharpshooter skills.

“You okay?” Hanna asked.

“Peachy,” you sniped, glad to have the spritely woman on your side.

Hanna jumped up and started firing in the direction of her bride and teammates, allowing the two of you to make a getaway.

“Hey!” Aditi yelled. “You’re supposed to be my bride! Isn’t there supposed to be some loyalty?”

“Not in this wedding!” Hanna hollered, peeking out just long enough to fire at Camille— and miss. Her paintball went wide, hitting Aditi right in the chest.

Aditi gasped dramatically, clutching her heart and falling to the floor like she’d been mortally wounded. “You’re supposed to be on my team! Divorce!” she shrieked, doubling over in mock betrayal.

“At least wait til we’re actually married!” Hanna quipped, laughing so hard she had to lean against the tree for support.

Your laughter joined theirs until another paintball hit your hip— courtesy of Camille, who clearly had no sense of humor. “Retribution!” she yelled joyfully, waving all the flags she had aggressively claimed for their team.

“Alright, that’s it,” you muttered under your breath, plotting your revenge. A few moments later, you managed to circle around behind her and fired three perfectly aimed shots, covering her back in pink splatters. Unfortunately Hanna and Aditi got caught in the crossfire.

Camille whipped around, stunned. “Are you kidding me?”

“Oops,” you said sweetly.

The rest of the bridesmaids gathered around chuckling, all quite pleased to see Camille get a taste of her own medicine. Hanna and Aditi were in stitches when they saw Camille’s scowl.

 “You’ve really got it out for us today, don’t you?” Hanna teased later, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you two,” you retorted before dropping your voices so only the brides could hear. “Camille, though? Totally on purpose.”

By the time dinner rolled around, you were sore and dead on your feet. Your arms were covered in round bruises and your hair still had the remnants of dried paint in it. But there was no denying it, you’d had fun. The restaurant and lounge was walking distance from the paintball field and the party had stripped out of the coveralls trudged over in cocktail dresses. The restaurant lounge was cozy and as evening fell, it was dimly lit, providing a sense of comfort and warmth.

The food being served was exquisite, the multiple courses providing variety and flavor. And the cocktails were good— dangerously so— and by the third round, your exhaustion had finally caught up with you. But not quite enough to loosen your lips.

“Alright missy, spill,” Hanna demanded, leaning towards you. “When are we going to meet this mystery man of yours?”

“Yeah,” Aditi chimed in, her glass of sangria swaying slightly in her hand. “You’ve been suspiciously vague about him.”

You gave them a small smile and feigned extreme interest in your own drink to avoid their inquisitive gazes. “You’ll meet him at the wedding,” you said airily. “He’s… busy.”

“Too busy for you?” Hanna asked, raising an eyebrow.

Camille leaned back in her chair, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You know, when I met Gabriel, I used to think he was too busy for me. I mean surgical residency is no joke, right? But he’d show up at the randomest times— once, he even surprised me at 2am in the middle of my double shift with coffee and croissants.”

Hanna’s work friend, Swan, chimed in. “Same with me and Jung. He worked such crazy hours at the firm when we first started dating, but we always made an effort to never let over a week go by without seeing each other.” She shot you a pointed look. “You just know when someone’s serious.”

“Or fake,” Camille muttered under her breath, not quite quiet enough for you to miss it.

You scowled, rubbing your nose angrily. “He’s not fake.” Their stories had started making you uncomfortable until your guilt was overcome by outrage.

But Camille wasn’t about to let up. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about these secret boyfriends,” she smiled smugly. “And they’re usually so conveniently unavailable and, well… imaginary.”

“He looks awfully handsome,” Swan piped up in rescue from across the table. “Your Insta posts look pretty perfect.” 

You hoped your blush would be attributed to your mildly inebriated state. “He’s pretty photogenic, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty easy to photoshop yourself into photos these days.”

“Shut it, Cami!” Aditi hissed as she spotted at your reddening expression and mistaking it for anger rather than embarrassment.

“Bucky is real,” you said with gritted teeth.

“Prove it,” Camille challenged with a saccharine smile.

“Well he’s coming to the wedding, so we can all meet him there!” Hanna elbowed Camille roughly under the table. “You can’t just hoard him forever. He must be judged; can’t just have our girl dating any random guy.”

You rolled your eyes, but gave her an appreciative smile. It was good to know they truly cared for you.

Aditi leaned forwards, her expression softening. “Seriously though, we’re just teasing. It’s okay if you don’t want us to meet him. But we just want to know that you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, your guilt flaring once again and tears crept into your eyes. And suddenly your defenses crumbled slightly. The alcohol and the exhaustion from the day catching up with you. Hanna and Aditi looked horrified but you waved them off. “I’m fine, it’s just been… a lot. Setting up all of this, trying to make sure everything’s perfect for you two— I’m just tired.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment, your vulnerability catching them off guard. Camille had the decency to look ashamed. Hanna, on the other hand, threw her arms around you and pressed a kiss on your cheek. “We appreciate you so much. You know you didn’t have to do all this alone, right?”

Aditi nodded, looking just as concerned as her fiancé. “You’re the best,” she said, squeezing your arm gently.

“And maybe he’ll surprise us all at the wedding,” Hanna smiled.

“Maybe,” you muttered, leaning back against the cushioned couches of the lounge. Your eyelids grew heavier and you didn’t know who had removed your glass of wine from your hand. The sound of everyone’s voices felt more and more distant and before you knew it your head was resting against the back of the couch.

Just a few moments to rest your eyes, you thought. But those moments turned to minutes and you were sound asleep. When Aditi and Camille noticed you’d drifted off, they exchanged mischievous glances.

“She out?” Aditi asked Camille, who nodded. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Way ahead of you.” Camille had already reached across the table to grab your phone. She swiped your screen to life. She held your phone in front of your face and grinned at how easily the lock screen disappeared.

Aditi whispered. “She’s gonna kill us for this.”

“What’re you doing?” Hanna asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Texting the mystery man,” Camille smirked.

“Camille!” Hanna hissed, reaching out to stop her, but failing.

Camille waved her off with a mischievous smile. “Relax, I’m doing her a favor. She’s clearly exhausted. If this guy’s worth a pinch of salt, he’ll come get her.”

She opened your messages and scrolled down. “What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” Aditi offered readily.

“Now, what do we say?” Camille smirked at the crowd.

“It needs to be convincing, but not too much,” Swan suggested.

Aditi scrunched up her mouth and tapped her lips. “Something simple, like, ‘Can you come pick me up? I’m too drunk to drive.’”

“Boring,” Camille whined and rolled her eyes. “We need to go big.” She started typing. Hey lover, your girlfriend misses you so muc-

Aditi grabbed the phone from Camille mid sentence. “No way. Subtle works better. She’s the least flirty person you’ll ever meet. He’s gonna know something is up if we get carried away.”

“Fine,” Camille said with mock exasperation and snatched the phone back from Aditi. She typed quickly, her thumbs flying across the keyboard.

“Can you come pick me up? I’m too drunk to drive.”

She dropped a pin of your location for good measure.

“Oh my God, Camille!” Hanna gasped. “You could have let us proofread it!”

Aditi covered her mouth to stifle a laugh to avoid waking you. “What if he doesn’t come? Or worse, what if he does?”

Camille smirked. “Oh he’ll come. Most men love to play the hero, they can’t resist a damsel in distress. And if he doesn’t, well... we’ll have our answer about him, won’t we?”

Everyone sat back in the wake of what they’d just done, the phone in the center of the table.

“Do you think it’s really him?” Swan asked.

Aditi frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“The guy in the photos.”

“She called him Bucky.”

“Yeah, Bucky Barnes. You know, The Winter Soldier.”

Aditi and Hanna looked at each other with matching looks of concern. Camille on the other hand pulled out her phone and did a quick google search. Comparing the images to your instagram. “Yeah, I guess they look kinda similar, but I’m not convinced. Didn’t think Y/N would be into the bad boys.”

“Isn’t he a killer?” Swan whispered.

“I thought he was Captain America’s best friend.”

“Or, he’s made up.”

“She’s texting with someone called Bucky.”

Their debate was interrupted by your phone buzzing and the group crowded around your screen.

10:45 PM - Bucky: On my way. Be there in 15.

The chatter in the lounge faltered when Bucky appeared in the doorway, only for a moment before a wave of excitement spread across the group.

“Oh my God,” Camille whispered, gripping Aditi’s arm so tightly that Aditi winced. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Is that him?” Hanna murmured.

“Hellooo, Winter Soldier,” Swan chimed, earning a round of laughter.

Bucky’s broad frame filled the doorway, his striking presence commanding attention. He glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings. His expression remained neutral despite the wariness he felt. His sharp eyes flitted past the bachelorette group until they landed on you— now curled up on the couch, blissfully unaware of the commotion your ‘boyfriend’ had caused.

A familiar crease appeared between his eyebrows as he took in the scene. He wasn’t thrilled to be there, you had not prepared him for this eventuality but he couldn’t exactly say no to a plea for help. But as he gazed at your sleeping form, his gaze softened, betraying a quiet fondness.

He had barely had time to take a step towards you when he was intercepted by Camille, like a predator stalking its prey.

“You must be Bucky,” she said, her voice practically dripping with sugar. She hooked her hand through his arm as she looked up at him with a flirtatious tilt of her head. “Wow, I see why she’s not been keen to share.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes flicking down to her hand before he offered a polite but tight smile. “Nice to meet you,” he said, stepping back just enough to create a sliver of space between them.

Unfortunately Camille wasn’t one to give up easily. She hadn’t become chief resident by being shy about her goals. She slid her fingers up to his bicep, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “Wow, Bucky, do you, like, workout every day? Because like… wow.”

Behind her, Aditi and Hanna exchanged looks, half amused, half exasperated and came to Bucky’s rescue. “Sorry about Camille. She’s…”

“I’m Hanna, this is Aditi. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” Bucky shook hands with the brides and waved to the other women.

“So, umm, I guess I’m here to pick up… Sleeping Beauty over there.” He nodded his head towards you, making the group burst into a fit of giggles, wolf whistles and whoops.

“Can’t believe she’s been hiding him from us,” Swan shook her head.

Camille pulled out her phone, calling Bucky’s name as she snapped a photo. She was momentarily stunned as he evaded further opportunity for interrogation. He slipped past the ogling women and crouched down at the couch beside you. He put his hand on your arm but his mouth froze before he had a chance to call your name as he spotted the bruises on your skin. Gently he grazed his fingers over the darkened patches, his face etched with concern. But rather than asking the other women what had happened, he called your name softly. “Hey, Princess.”

You stirred, blinking groggily. It took a moment for your sleep and alcohol addled mind to focus on the man in front of you. When you recognized Bucky, a sleepy smile spread across your face. “Bucky! Hi, Bucky!”

He chuckled under his breath, feeling glad that you didn’t seem upset. “Hi. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Before he had the chance to help you up, you noticed everyone’s attention on you. You threw your arms around his neck. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Bucky!” you announced proudly in a slurred voice.

The girls cheered with a chorus of ‘awws’. Hanna buried her face in her hands, shaking with suppressed giggles. Aditi whispered to her, “She’s gonna hate us for this later.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he said dryly.

Camille, however, was still skeptical. “So boyfriend, huh?” she interjected with a smirk.

“Yeah,” you pouted and Bucky’s eyes widened, worried about what you were about to say in your current state. 

“Look how handsome he is!” you declared. “Boy-friend.”

The group dissolved into another round of laughter.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you with a faint smirk. “That’s me,” he said dryly, wrapping his arm around your teetering form. “Handsome guy with the sleepy girlfriend.”

“Guess you’re officially off the market, Y/N.”

“Completely,” Bucky said firmly and politely. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Sleeping Beauty here needs some actual beauty rest.”

“Hey,” you pouted. “I’m not sleepy.”

“You literally fell asleep in a room full of people,” he replied, smirking with amusement. “Let’s get you home before you try and prove something else.”

“Wait, you’re leaving already? Come on! We haven’t heard a single embarrassing story!” Aditi called after the two of you.

“I’ll be sure to remind her of this one tomorrow,” he said, glancing down at you as you leaned into his side.

“You’re the best, Bucky,” you murmured sleepily, letting him guide you out.

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

He walked you out, ignoring the cacophony of shouts behind you.

Bucky opened the passenger door for you to get in. “Come on, Princess. In you get.”

“They love you, you know,” you slurred, your words coming out in an exaggerated whisper.

He snorted. “Yeah, I noticed. Pretty sure Camille was ready to propose back there.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, flopping back against the seat. “She was a little handsy, huh?”

Bucky smirked, leaning down to buckle you in. “A little?” he repeated dryly. “She actually asked for my workout routine. And I’m not sure she was referring to the gym.”

“She’s not your type, though,” you mumbled, your eyelids fluttering closed.

“And what exactly is my type?” he asked as he straightened up.

“Mmm... me,” you declared, the word coming out more triumphant than you intended.

Bucky froze mid-motion, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Why else would you be here?”

Bucky shook his head and closed the passenger door, circling around to the driver’s side. He slid into the driver’s seat and glanced over at you, clearly trying to fight sleep.

“Didn’t realize I’d be meeting everyone tonight,” he teased, starting the engine. “You sure know how to keep things interesting.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled, the warm sound echoing through the car. “Yeah, you’re doing a great job of that.”

The ride was silent, the hum of the car engine pulling you towards slumber.

“Bucky,” you murmured.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here, you know?”

He glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Someone had to rescue you from the wolves back there.”

You giggled at that, your laugh fading into a content sigh. “Thank you, you’re so… good.”

Bucky stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the wheel tightening as he took in your words. Good. Not a word he would have used to describe himself, but somehow he didn’t mind it coming from you.

“Get some sleep, Princess,” he said softly, more to fill the quiet than anything else.

For a moment, he let himself steal a glance at you, before turning back to the dimly lit road. And even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet, a strange warmth was blooming in his chest— something he wasn’t ready to name.

The next morning, you woke up with a groan. Your head throbbed lightly. Thank God for Sundays, you thought. Picking up your phone, you shielded your eyes against the brightness of the screen, cursing about how it hurt your eyes. You hadn’t had that much to drink, had you?

Your phone buzzed and a message notification popped up at the top of the screen from your group chat: Power of 3.

10:15 AM - Hanna: Mystery boyfriend: No longer a mystery!

You sighed and rolled over, groaning into your pillow.

10:16 AM - Aditi: Can’t believe you’ve been hiding him. I don’t bat for his side, but I might consider changing teams for him.

10:16 AM - Aditi: Don’t tell Hanna I said that.

10:16 AM - Hanna: I can read this, you know!

10:17 AM - Aditi: Have you seen Camille’s Instagram yet?

10:17 AM - You: No… should I be scared?

You winced at Aditi’s message, but curiosity got the best of you. You opened your Instagram and tapped on Camille’s profile to be hit with a photo of Camille with a huge smile on her face, draped over an incredibly uncomfortable looking Bucky sporting a stiff smile.

The caption read “@charmedbynature sleeping on the job.”

You felt your stomach twisting as you watched her clinging to him. He clearly wasn’t doing anything wrong and the man looked like he’d rather be a thousand miles away. But seeing Camille’s beautiful smile next to him sparked a wave of something unfamiliar.

10:18 AM - Hanna: You’d better watch out because she looks like she’ll race you to the altar for that one.

You tapped off the picture and back to your messages. He hadn’t even bothered to text you to see if you were okay. Why did you even care? You silenced your phone and rolled out of bed. Maybe a run would help you shed this feeling. 

As you opened your front door, your eyes landed on the whiteboard hanging on it.

“YOU MADE IT HOME! GOOD JOB, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”

Your irritation faded instantly, replaced by a reluctant smile. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a quick photo of the message before erasing it. After a moment's thought, you wrote back:

“THANKS FOR THE RESCUE, PRINCE CHARMING.”

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter (pending)

No tag list. Follow me on @skittles-archive for notifications.

Posting schedule will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays around 2.30pm EST / 11.30am PST / 7.30pm BST

[eddiazx]

you are in love - evan buckley x reader

“I need a date.” Buck announces to anyone who will listen at the firehouse loft. 

“Need is a strong word.” Bobby says, quirking his eyebrow from his position behind the kitchen island, cutting bell peppers. 

“No, Cap, it’s the perfect word for my situation. Taylor is getting married and I absolutely need to bring a date.”

“Why are you even going to an ex’s wedding?” Eddie asks, not looking up from his game of pool with you. 

“The perpetual need to be liked, Eds. Now please, someone help me.”

Hen, Chim, Eddie, Ravi, and Bobby chime simultaneously: “Not it.”

You straighten up with your pool cue, betrayed by the people you consider friends and slightly impressed at how choir-like they said those two words. You then look at Buck, who’s already staring at you with pathetic, pitiful puppy-dog eyes. You sigh dramatically and say, “Fine. I’ll be your date. You better buy me a bunch of booze, Buckley.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Buck says, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek before bouncing away happily. 

This can’t end well. 

-----------------------------------

You were right. Because Taylor Kelly decided to get married 4 hours away, and Buck said he’d get the two of you hotel rooms so you didn’t have to wake up early and get ready in a rush. 

Because life was like a movie: there was only one room and one bed available. 

“I can sleep in the armchair.” Buck tries to offer, extremely unconvincingly. 

“I know you need to stretch your bad leg out to sleep well, Buck. We’re friends, we can share a bed.”

“Oh, thank god.” Buck says, flopping onto the bed. 

You smile fondly at the dork you call your best friend, and head into the bathroom to get changed.

When you come back though, you hesitate. Sure, you've seen your Buck shirtless and in just his underwear countless times due to glass locker rooms, but sharing a room and a bed was different. It's intimate.

Buck, seeming to know what you were thinking, pats the empty side next to him. "C'mon. I promise I won't bite."

"That's tragic, I do like biting." You tease.

Buck blushes a faint pink and drops his hands in his lap to cover a rising situation. "Good to know."

-----------------------------------

You wake up the next morning extremely well-rested and snug. Sometime during the night the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Buck's front was plastered against your back, and you had woven your fingers with his, resting your linked hands on your stomach.

You slowly turn around to face Buck, watching as he blinks awake. A big, albeit sleepy grin graces his face. "Mornin'."

You smile back at him and respond softly. "Good morning."

"Hey, I don't think I ever thanked you for coming with me."

"You already did, Buck. I just don't understand why you came. You don't really talk to Taylor."

"You know... I think I wanted an excuse to come spend time with you."

"Me?"

Buck nods. He then stills as an epiphany overtakes his entire being.

"You're my best friend." Buck says, voice full of wonderment.

"Don't let Eddie hear you." You joke half-heartedly, but the raw honesty in Buck's voice was making your heart beat so fast, you would think someone was hunting you for sport.

"I'm serious. I always look for your reaction first whenever I tell a joke, I know your coffee order better than my own, and you're the one I want to talk to whenever I have good or bad news. I fell in love with you slowly and then all at once - because you're my best friend."

"You're in love with me?" You ask, barely audible, happy tears filling your eyes.

"I am." Buck admits, uncharacteristic shyness marring his features.

You reach over, smoothing a stray curl back from his forehead before whispering. "I love you too, Buck."

Buck takes those words as an invitation to maneuver you onto your back while he hovers on top of you.

"So, what you said last night about biting..." Buck starts, and you shut him up with a laugh and a kiss.

[iamsebastiansstan]

surrender at your feet - stepbro!NAC x fem!reader

summary - This kink is getting out of hand, but he doesn’t give a single fuck, because where he is sick and rotten, she is, too.

wc - 15k lol - MINORS DNI !

warnings - dark!Nicholas so beware, stepcest, manipulation, somnophilia, oral (m and f receiving), edging, crying during sex, dirty talk, face slapping (the sexual and non sexual kind), borderline abusive Nicholas, panty kink, non-consensual voyeurism (he's watching her taking a shower without her knowing), exhibitionism (grinding where others could see), but they looove each other whatever whatever <3

A/N - this one... LOL THIS ONE almost did me in, it took me so long to write and it's nowhere near done but it was gnawing at my brain so I had to post it. 's a likkle fucked up so don't read if you aren't into that sick shit, thanks. super plot heavy, part two is gonna be a lot smuttier! feedback is always appreciated, love you <3

this one is for @hoffmansgirl and @urlitttlevenicebitch specifically, thanks for holding my hand throughout all this nastiness my Darlings 🖤

PART 1 / 2:

It started a couple of years back, when she first came into his life, fists swinging and lips cursing. She hated it, hated being part of this family, hated the new house she moved into, hated his father, hated him.

It was a lot for her to take in, and he understood. He, too, had some nights where he had to clench his teeth through the onslaught of tears, fuming at the fact that his mother just up and left them like that, moved to fucking Italy to be with Sergio or Francesco or whatever the fuck his name is, giving up everything she had in her life, including her only son. It hurt, but he bore it, and that was the main difference between them, wasn’t it? Where she was loud and rebellious, a little spitfire, he was quiet and brooding, preferring to keep a low profile.

He's just glad she got used to it, over time, even building a solid relationship with her stepfather. He was grateful for the mother figure his stepmom posed in his life, as well, he had missed having that. 

The two of them, though? 

Acquaintances rather than stepsiblings, and he couldn’t pick between hating the frost between them or being thankful for the emotional distance, considering his feelings towards her. Feelings he doesn’t- can’t- talk about. 

They grew into their adult years together, and the older they got, the more he’s had to try to resist her, his rational brain reminding him of what it’d look like, the rest of his body yearning for her in ways he didn’t even know were possible. 

He’s also glad they both decided to stay home for college, so he can keep an eye on her, brotherly love and all that. Their house isn’t big, but three slim stories high, and he shares the top floor with her, his bedroom next to hers, a bathroom across the hall, blessedly far away from where their parents sleep one floor down. The walls are thin, too, so he can make sure she isn’t sneaking out at night, or taking phone calls she isn’t supposed to be having, and-

He's protective, sue him.

“Nick, have you seen my tanning oil?” she calls from just outside his door, making him look up from the video game he’s playing. 

His frustration runs deep, he’s getting fucking obliterated.

“It’s not in the cabinet?”

“No, that’s why I’m asking!”

“Maybe you left it downstairs yesterday?”

They’re on summer break, and every day, like clockwork, she spends her whole morning tanning her skin, lounging by the pool, reading a book. This past semester has been hard on her, he knows, so she didn’t exactly have time for a job on the side, which means going away on vacation is not in the cards for her right now. He’d love for them to go away together, he’d pay for it no problem, but there’s no way in hell she’d ever say yes to that, so he stays home and sulks. But only a little. He doesn’t mind.

He looks out the window and sees her stomping towards the sunbed, bending down in her tiny bikini that’s showing off her ass and straightening out with the bottle of oil clutched tightly in her hand. She turns towards where his window is and smiles at him, giving him a thumbs up that makes him feel warm on the inside. 

Here’s another thing he loves about having a room on this floor, apart from getting to share it with her: his big window has a very clear view of their garden including the pool, where he can watch her skimpy swimsuit-clad body, covered in oil, at that, for as long as he wants, but if he stands to the side just so, he also gets a glimpse of the spacious outdoor shower their parents insisted on building last summer. It’s perfect to rinse off in after the mud treatments they like to put on in their outdoor sauna, but also perfect to clean yourself in after you’ve doused your body in oil that you don’t want to soil the inside bathroom with, the way his sister prefers to do. He can’t see everything from there, especially not without getting caught- one look up and his hiding spot would be busted- but he can see enough to satisfy his need to feel closer to her, see more of her, his delusion of connection being fed plenty. 

And so he patiently waits for her to get tired of laying around, for her to start feeling too hot under the rays of the August sun, for her to pack up her stuff and languidly move to the shower. Nicholas gets up from his desk and discreetly positions himself just right, just to see enough of the shower. It’s built in a spiral with the showerhead in the middle, and she hangs up her silk robe outside and then walks in, hands already reaching behind herself to pull the strings of her top, making it fall away. This is a sight he’ll never grow tired of: her full breasts on display, perky nipples hard from the change in temperature, making his mouth water for a taste. He’d treat them so well, suck them so good. 

Next are her bottoms, and this is where his line of sight isn’t cutting it properly, he can’t see past the curve of her ass or the spot where her stomach becomes her mound, but he’s okay with it, okay with imagining it without knowing exactly. It makes it sweeter, in a way, lets the anticipation build for what he hopes will someday become an inevitability. 

Grabbing the bottle of shower gel from the rack on the wall and spreading it on her loofa generously, she starts cleaning herself, rubbing her small hands all over that smooth skin, getting rid of the oil that made her look shiny and lickable. Nicholas feels his cock stir but he doesn’t do anything about it, the risk of getting caught too high. He can explain away why he’s standing by his window, but there’s no explanation for why he’s looking outside with his cock in his hand. He just commits every moment to memory and jerks off after, that’s how it’s always been. 

Always, up until now, apparently, because she does something he’s never seen her do before: she leans against the wall, just outside of the stream of water, and lets one hand trail down her stomach, very obviously stopping at her pussy and keeping it there. Her other hand grabs at her breast as she throws her head back, and Nicholas audibly moans when he realizes that fuck, his stepsister is touching herself under the shower. He knows it’s wrong to watch, has known since the very first time he did, having to squash the guilt day in and day out, but he couldn’t look away now if he tried. 

Hand grabbing his cock through his shorts, he palms at the hardness of it, bites his lip when she does, wishes he could look down at her body the way she does, see what she’s doing to that undoubtedly sweet pussy of hers. It’s like his brain has been switched off when he plunges his hand into his underwear and grasps his rock hard dick, not pulling it out but giving himself enough room for movement as he desperately jerks it, speeding up when he sees her arm moving faster, not daring to shut his eyes as he watches her close hers and come with her face scrunched up. It doesn’t take him long and he’s right there with her, spilling his load hot all over himself, uncaring because what he just witnessed was the hottest thing of his life.

She sighs heavily, judging by the movement of her chest, and he sees her clean herself quickly before shutting the water off and grabbing the towel that’s hanging to the side.

He doesn’t stay to watch her walk out. 

*** 

He acts normal around her, because of course he does, what else is he supposed to do? They eat dinner together every night, as a family, they go to the movies every now and then, when there’s something good on and her friends are busy, he drives her home from parties, when his friends decide to drink and make him the designated driver of the group. 

Such is the case tonight, after a few students from their college had one too many at the bar crawl and he offered to take some of them home. After dropping off his last friend from the group, it’s just the two of them in the car.

“You never drink,” she mumbles, watching the streetlights as they drive by.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Just not my thing.”

She scoffs. “I feel like you’d be a lot more fun if you did.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This is a level of honesty she wouldn’t allow herself without liquid courage. 

“Why’s that?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “You’re a little… stuck-up. Actually, no. You’re strict.”

He smiles softly.

“I guess I am. You had fun tonight?”

She grins at him when he looks over at her.

“Fuck yeah. Gave Sam my number, he said he’d text me tomorrow.” 

Jealousy flares in his chest, bright and ugly, and he grips the steering wheel to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret.

“Oh, really? I heard he’s bad news, (Y/N).”

She clicks her tongue, all sass, before she replies, “People talk, but it’s mainly bullshit. He’s a good guy.”

He lets her answer hang in the air, out of things to contribute to this stupid conversation. Fuckin’ Sam, of all people. 

After a while, she speaks up again.

“What about you? I never see you with anyone.”

He smiles to himself, shrugging.

“I date around a bit, nothing serious. I don’t have the capacity for it right now.”

I’m too focused on you, he doesn’t say. It’s been around two weeks since he’s had sex, choosing to hit up a girl from class every now and then, when his frustration gets too intense, but he’s not really interested in anything but the physical, with nobody. Well, nobody apart from his stepsister, of course.

They arrive at home, and he parks the car, turns it off and looks to his right where she’s sitting.

“Lots of girls have a crush on you, Nicholas,” she whispers, doesn’t look at him, “I hear them talk. They want you.”

He knows, but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah? And how does that make you feel, to hear them thirsting after your big brother?”

He’s tethering on an edge, here, and he’s aware of it. They don’t really talk about what they are to each other, they don’t really talk at all, actually, but he throws caution in the wind and hopes her drunk self will let him get away with it.

Her eyes are hard when they meet his, albeit for just a second.

“I think it’s stupid,” she mumbles, “none of them are good enough for you.” With that she undoes her seatbelt and gets out, bends down to look at him one more time, says, “Thank you for the ride, Nick,” and slams the door shut.

He sits there long after she’s walked into the house. 

*** 

When he hears a slight, insistent buzzing sound, he first thinks it’s tinnitus. He pops his ears, digs a knuckle in to try to make it stop before deciding that, nope, it’s not coming from within his head. It’s coming from the other side of the wall.

Seeing as the walls are paper-thin, Nicholas hears most of what goes on in her room, as does she when he doesn’t watch how loud he’s being in his.

He doesn’t listen to music loudly, instead he opts for using his headphones, because he knows she loves to read and prefers a quiet atmosphere to do so. She stops her singing and humming at around ten p.m., because she knows he’s a ridiculously light sleeper and can hear every sound she makes. They look out for each other, as siblings are supposed to, no matter their relation.

But he’s never heard buzzing before, especially not like this, it’s too drawn out for it to be her phone leaned against the wall, signaling a call. Is it a hair clipper? In her room? No way, why would she-

“Oh… oh, fuck,” he hears, her voice high and breathy, and-

Oh. Oh. 

Heat crawls up his neck as he lets the realization sink in, tries his best to stay still and not press his head against the wall to listen in further. He lasts exactly eleven seconds before he’s scooting across his bed to get as close as possible, to hear as much as he can. 

Her moans are stifled but they’re audible nonetheless, making his cock stir. The buzzing must be a vibrator, something she apparently has never used before, because he would’ve heard it if it was the same as this one. Or maybe she’s only used it when he was out of the house, which makes an uncomfortable feeling spread in his gut. Why is she hiding this from him? What else is she hiding from him? 

Nicholas reels himself in through the fog of horniness clouding his mind, reminds himself that she isn’t hiding anything, per se, reminds himself that she’s got a right to privacy, and he is crossing many lines by doing what he does, but. He can’t help it, alright? He needs her, he adores her. 

So he presses his ear against the wall above his headboard, works his pants open and takes his cock out, and bites his lip to keep from moaning right along with her as he listens to her labored breathing, the strong buzzing of the toy that’s pressed- into her pussy? against her pussy?- and the slight whimper that escapes her every now and then. He’s always only imagined what she’d sound like, but now he’s got her actual noises in his ears, and he saves those sounds to his spank bank to get off to forever. God, he can’t believe she’s so vocal even when she’s undoubtedly trying not to be. What a fucking treat she is for him. 

It's over faster than he’d like to admit but he can’t be embarrassed when this literal wet dream material landed in his lap, and after he’s made himself bust to the sound of her reaching her peak herself, biting his knuckles and doing everything in his power not to make a sound and scare her off, he takes his shirt off to wipe the mess with, not finding anything else within arm’s reach.

Deciding to wait a beat before going to the bathroom for a shower, he’s surprised to see her exiting her room at the exact same time he does, looking disheveled and holding a towel with something bundled up in it. No doubt that fucking toy. Her eyes widen comically when she sees him, stops in her tracks, and he can’t help the raise of his eyebrows either. 

“You go ahead,” he tells her, motioning to the bathroom.

“Nah,” she says, her cheeks coloring adorably, “I gotta shower, I’ll take a bit longer.”

He nods, suppresses a smirk.

“Okay, I’ll give you a knock when I’m done.” 

Feeling smug, he purposely takes his time, lets her stew in her discomfort. 

Walking back to his room, he gives her the promised knock before closing his door behind himself. He listens for her footsteps. It takes her almost five minutes to move. 

*** 

If you asked Nicholas if he’d describe himself as creepy, he’d flat-out tell you no. If you asked him if he’d call himself a perv, he’d have to think about it. If you, however, asked him if he’s got some serious sexual issues, he’d nod enthusiastically and ask you if you had the number of a good therapist. Or a priest. At this point, he’ll take any help he can get.

Because he knows this isn’t normal, knows it rationally, but the thing is that he’s a dude in his twenties who just so prefers to think with his cock, mainly, and so he doesn’t care. 

Plus, lately, she’s been a real tease. Nothing too crazy, subtility is her strong suit, but enough to drive him mad. When she sits herself down next to him at dinner, she’ll turn to him, put her feet up on his chair, under his thighs. 

“Please, warm them for me?” she’ll pout, making him roll his eyes in fake annoyance while his heartrate kicks up a notch. 

“You’re not even wearing socks!” he’ll snap, but of course he’ll warm her feet up.

She’s started tanning topless, but only when she’s on her stomach, not revealing too much, but more than she has before. The sight of her tits under the shower is still a treat, though. 

And, on top of it all, she’s started putting her clothes in his hamper. They each have their own hamper in the bathroom, right next to each other, and mix-ups have happened over the years, but three in one week is a bit much. First it was her shirt, then it was two pairs of socks, then her bra. He wordlessly put them into hers without thinking about it, but now he’s struggling.

Because now he’s looking at a thong, a worn thong, on top of the shirt he tossed in last night. How he knows it’s worn? There’s a tiny spot on the crotch, dried pussy juice, whatever it may be, but it suddenly makes his tongue feel heavy and the sight of it makes him think the only way to stop his brain from short circuiting is to put his mouth on it, which, no. Even for him, that is too far, he doesn’t do that.

What he does do, however, after he checks behind himself to make sure she isn’t coincidentally walking by at this exact moment, is pocket them, walk into his room with them heavy on his person, and when he shuts the door, he realizes he hasn’t taken a single breath the entire way there. 

His hands shake when they take the panties out, and his cock hardens so fast that it makes him dizzy for a second. He contemplates bringing them up to his nose and inhaling but decides against it. If he ever gets to smell her, he wants it to be her, fully, nothing else. Tossing them on the bed, he sits down, takes a minute to himself.

That must have fucking been on purpose, right? There is no way she didn’t do that for him to find it. No way. The thong was planted, presented, almost, she wanted him to see it and then what? What reaction is she expecting? He won’t give her a direct one, that’s for damn sure. It’s too risky, what if it really was accidental, he’d make himself look like an absolute psycho.

Resolute, he decides not to do anything about it yet, not regarding her, at least. By himself, that’s another story entirely. He’s undoing his pants before he knows it, taking off his shirt and getting completely naked. Nick leans back against his headboard, gets comfortable among the pillows, and starts playing with his cock slowly.

He's hard, wet already, throbbing, but he takes his time, teases the tip, imagines it’s her tongue instead. Grabbing the panties, he wraps them around his base, makes sure they’re on properly and holds them with one hand while his other speeds up, eager to get off. The sight of that lacy black material around his dick, the contrast similar to how it’d be if he just got her on her back, pulled them to the side and slid into her hot cunt, that thought driving him insane, driving him closer and closer to his orgasm. 

He comes with a shout and isn’t even ashamed of it, makes sure to let his semen run along his shaft and pool on the material of the thong, let it get soaked a little, before he takes it away completely and uses it to wipe away what he can. For the rest he uses a tissue from his bedside table. 

It takes him a while to build that courage up, but he walks to her hamper, puts her ruined underwear at the very top of the dirty pile of her laundry.

Hours later, at night when everyone’s asleep and regret hits him, panic grips at his throat, he goes through it again, can’t find the damn pair of panties among the same pile of clothes.

Nobody in the house did the laundry today, he knows, he’s been the only one at home the entire time.

*** 

Their parents have no qualms about going on vacation for a few weeks and leaving their kids at home alone, and he’s absolutely fine with it for the most part, if only she wasn’t so insistent on letting her rebellious streak show now that nobody can correct her, partying every damn night and showing up at all times of the morning, leaving him worried sick.

“At least have the fucking decency to let me know when you won’t be coming home, so I don’t worry,” he snaps at her after the fourth night of her going out.

“You’re not my fucking father,” she hisses and leaves, skirt too short and heels too high, leaving Nicholas boiling with rage.

It’s only a small surprise when, one day, he walks into the living room after a post-lunch nap and catches her on the couch, straddling Sam. He had forgotten about the guy, about her telling him that they’d exchanged numbers, and he feels the bright hot mix of jealousy and anger make its way into his blood stream.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, smirks when they jump apart, ending their little make out session, “who do we have here?”

She glares at him with her mouth red and wet, panting slightly, and if he had any less self-control, he’d grab her by the throat and drag her off this loser’s lap.

“Nicholas, hey dude,” Sam chuckles, a little embarrassed and a lot sheepish as she gets off his lap, stands up with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Let’s go up to my room, Sam,” she says, is about to pull him up when Nicholas’ loud laugh interrupts her, makes her whip her head around to look at him.

Stop being weird, her gaze tells him, but she has no clue how normal he’s being right now, has no clue what it is he wants to do instead. 

“I don’t fucking think so, (Y/N),” he snarls, leans against the wall with his arms crossed as well. Two can play this game. “Samuel, you were just about to leave, weren’t you.”

“Actually, I- I wasn’t really-“

“Wasn’t a question.”

“Nick!” she hisses, looks at him with wide-eyed fury, “What the fuck are you doing? Sam, you really don’t have to leave, let’s just go upstairs.” 

“(Y/N),” Nicholas starts, grit teeth and dark eyes, “I said he’s leaving, end of story.” 

“Hey, it’s all good, babe,” Sam says, and even though that nickname makes Nicholas’ stomach turn, he appreciates that the boy has at least some respect left. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He presses a kiss to her cheek and grabs his backpack, walks past Nicholas with a small nod and disappears through the door. The silence he leaves behind is deafening as they look at each other, and she’s spitting mad, he can tell, shaking with it.

She grits, “What the fuck was that?” 

He shrugs, tries to act nonchalant, tries to keep control over the situation.

“You’re not going to hang out with him again, okay?”

“What?” she yells, disbelief coloring her voice.

“Lower your fuckin’ tone when speaking to me,” he hisses, stalks over to her and grabs her by the shoulders. “Sam is a piece of shit, and I will not let my sister hang around people like him, am I understood? You won’t see him again.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He doesn’t think, just for a second, and suddenly his hand is at her throat, slamming her against the wall and crowding into her. He can’t consider his next steps, the ringing in his ears is too loud.

“Who the fuck do you think I am, huh? It’s enough now, (Y/N)! It’s enough!”

There’s fear in her eyes as she stares up at him, pulse hammering under his fingertips, but she doesn’t fight him, doesn’t struggle against him. 

He cages her in, lips a hair-width from hers as he gently whispers, “Now, what is it that you’re not going to do anymore?”

She swallows hard, a movement that’s constricted by his tight grip.

“S-see Sam,” she whimpers, not taking her gaze off him.

Nicholas smiles. 

“Atta girl,” he praises, moves the knuckle of his other hand along her cheekbone. “And while we’re at it, you’re not going to any more parties, okay? Four in a row are enough, don’t you think?” She gives him a jerky nod, wordless but appeasing, nonetheless. “Very good, wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” he smiles, condescension dripping from every syllable, watching her shake her head no before he lets instinct take over and presses a kiss to her forehead, all loving brother like. “Now go up to your room, I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

She’s out of his grasp before he can even step away fully.

He serves dinner silently, chicken and mac’n’cheese, her favorite. She whispers a small thank you and digs in, doesn’t look at him. Nicholas knows he might have gone a bit far today, especially so suddenly, but he only did it for her. The stories about Sam really did make their rounds, and he’d hate for his little sister to be known as one of that scumbag’s girls. Fuck no. 

“’m sorry about today,” he says after he’s let the atmosphere settle. “I should’ve been gentler, less angry, maybe. But I really am just worried about you, (Y/N), you can understand that, can’t you?”

It takes her a beat before she can look at him, chewing her food slowly. He gives her a small smile, encouraging, he hopes. He puts his hand on the table, palm up, looks at it then looks at her. She’s eyeing him with distrust before exhaling deeply, slowly, oh so slowly, reaching out and putting her hand in his.

His heart is threatening to beat out of his chest- they don’t touch, not ever- but he’s grateful. He considers it an accepted peace offering.

“I know,” she mumbles, “I was just… excited. About him liking me. I know it was probably a stupid thing of me to do.” 

“It was,” he says, keeping his tone gentle, “but it’s okay, I’m here to fix it if needed, okay? I’m your big brother, I’ll help you.”

“You keep saying that,” she notes, eyes hard but tone unsure. “That- that you’re my brother. But you aren’t, not really. We aren’t related.” 

He hums, thinks about how he should react without giving too much away. She’s right, they aren’t, but he needs her to trust him the way she would if they were. 

“We’re family in all the ways that matter, (Y/N). Okay?” he decides to say, squeezes her hand with the corners of his mouth tucked up.

That’s enough for her, apparently, because she gives him a nod and goes back to eating her dinner. When he lets go of her hand, she keeps it on the table, just within reach. 

He takes it as a sign, he’s going to be okay. 

She spends the entire next day in bed, not going outside once, and he knows because he hears that damn toy buzzing. His dick and his palm are sore by the time evening rolls around, because after all, he had to at least try to match her one for one. At least Sam is nowhere to be found, and Nick intends to keep it that way.

*** 

It sneaks in slowly, the need to be more involved, to order her around. It shows up at lunch, at dinner, one more piece of broccoli, one more scoop of rice. 

“Are you on a diet or somethin’? You’ve barely eaten.”

“Guess my appetite isn’t very big today.”

“C’mon, have some more.” Silence. “Hey, (Y/N).” A wide-eyed look. “For me?” A tiny smile, a shrug, a nod.

He refills her plate, an itsy-bitsy portion, and smiles when she eats it. He doesn’t want her to start feeling unwell now that she wakes up late and skips breakfast altogether, he needs to take care of her when their parents aren’t around. Nicholas isn’t the type to control anyone’s food intake, that would be ridiculous, but he doesn’t want her to miss out on her nutrients. 

Sometimes, she doesn’t let him.

“I really am full, I’ll have the leftovers tomorrow.”

He concedes, smiles at her. 

“Okay, I’ll put the rest in the fridge. The container is microwave proof, yeah?”

“’kay. Thank you, Nick.”

When he passes by her, he decides to be impulsive and bend down, press a kiss to the top of her head. He feels himself blush when she preens under his touch. It’s not weird, it’s a show of appreciation between stepsiblings. 

He’s walking by the bathroom, snacking on a banana, when he sees her standing in front of the mirror and curling her hair. Nick stops, leans against the doorframe and takes a bite.

“You going out in that?” he asks, motions with the half-eaten banana.

She turns, surprised, looks down at herself.

“Yeah, why? You don’t like it?”

“Where are you going?”

“Getting coffee with the girls.”

He hums, looks her up and down, unashamed in his staring. She may think it’s for the outfit, he knows it’s for her delicious body. 

“I feel like a flowy skirt would be cute. Or a dress, I don’t know. Nothing too short.”

She nods, looks at her baggy jeans.

“Want me to change?” her tone is genuine when she asks, none of the usual snark audible in it.

Nicholas chews slowly, looks to the side, unsure what to do. She’s letting him do this, giving it to him.

“Do you want to?”

“If… if you want me to, then yeah.”

He nods, finishes the bite, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, change into that olive green tennis skirt you have. It’ll go well with your top.” 

She smiles brightly, nods. 

“Okay, I will.” He’s just about to turn and walk away when she calls, “Thank you, big brother.” 

He throws her a smile over his shoulder and scurries away to dispose of the banana peel. His dick is hard in his pants.

Before she walks out, she knocks on his door, steps in when he allows it.

“Like this?” she asks, twirls once to let him see the full outfit.

She’s so fucking cute, he can’t decide if he wants to wrap her up in his arms forever or fuck her ‘til she’s crying.

He beckons her closer with his index finger, reaches out to touch the hem of her skirt once she’s close enough, pulls at it, like he’s assessing the material.

“Much better,” he rasps, smiles up at her from where he’s sitting at his desk chair. “Have fun, pretty. Call me if you need anything.”

She nods, smile so wide the corners of her eyes are crinkling, and she leaves. He exhales deeply, a warm feeling in his chest. This is going better than he could’ve imagined. 

“Come watch this movie with me,” he says, popcorn already in his lap, finger about to press play on the remote.

“I was gonna go to sleep… I’m so tired.”

That’s what she had said the past two nights, as well, only to stay up to fuck herself until well after midnight. It really must be a new toy, he thinks, her obsession with it, with getting off, way too intense for it to be anything but a new sensation. He knows she’s not a virgin, much to his dismay, but he has no clue if she gets fucked on the regular. Nick’s been making it difficult for her as well, he knows, not letting her out of the house too late.

“C’mon, just a bit? If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you upstairs.”

“I don’t know, Nick…”

“(Y/N),” he starts, voice stern now, “come sit down with me. It’s been a while since we last just spent time together.”

Reluctantly, she stomps her way over to him, annoyed. She does sit down, though, he’ll give her that, doesn’t even put too much distance between them. He smiles, presses play and leans back, enjoying the intro. She takes a handful of popcorn when he holds the bowl out to her but declines a second, which he’s fine with. 

It doesn’t take long for her to start squirming. 

First, it’s just some movement back and forth, it can pass as burrowing into the couch cushions, getting comfortable. Then it’s crossing and uncrossing her legs, over and over again, before she gives up with a humph and sits still. That lasts all of five minutes before she moves again, tucking her legs under her, then putting her weight on her right hip, then her left, shuffling around until he loses his patience.

“Could you stop fucking moving, what is your problem?” he snaps, looks over to her furrowed brows and mouth turned into a frown.

“I can’t get comfy!” she says, a slight whine in her voice, and he doesn’t know if she’s being bratty or if she really is just frustrated. 

“Just sit your ass down, (Y/N), it can’t be that hard.” 

“Whatever,” she mumbles and stays in the position she is in.

That is, until her squirming starts up again not even ten minutes later, with her sitting on her hands, then wringing them between her thighs, making him unable to focus on the movie. 

“That’s it,” he growls and without a second thought he hauls her up, ignores her screech of protest as he positions her between his thighs, holds her upper body tight while his legs secure hers.

“Nicholas, what the fuck?! Let me go!”

“What the fuck you so restless for, huh?” he breathes against her ear, but it’s in no way sexual. He needs her to hold still.

“Just let me go up to my room, please,” she whines, throws her head back, and he wonders what the hell has gotten into her when he remembers that, oops, he has been keeping her from going upstairs to play with her little friend.

His stepsister is horny, he realizes. 

A dirty smirk spreads along his face as he grips her tighter, makes her lean against him as he cages her in.

“Why? What’s so important in your room?” he asks, all fake cluelessness, loves watching her squirm when trying to come up with an answer.

She’s hot all over now, he can feel it, and he enjoys it massively. 

“Nothing, ‘m just sleepy, please- Nick, c’mon! This is fucked up!” 

She thrashes against him, but she’s got no chance, there’s a reason why he works out six days a week, and when she’s tired herself out enough, she goes limp against him.

“Tell ya what,” Nichola says, smug in how conversational he sounds, how nonchalant as he repositions her, puts her against his side, her wrists clutched in one strong hand and her leg hiked up against his stomach where he holds her thigh firmly, doesn’t let her get away. Her core is pressed against his hipbone, partially his thigh, and he feels like he’s dreaming as he does this, like this isn’t real life with real life consequences, that’s how badly he wants it. “If you need it that badly, you’ll give it to yourself against my hip, okay? But that’s the only way, (Y/N), you hear me? The only way.”

Her eyes are wide as saucers where they’re staring at him, mouth agape. She’s so small like this, clutched in his grip, and he wishes he could kiss her, but it’s not time for that, not yet. 

“W-what?” she whispers faintly.

“You heard me. If you need it, then this is how you’ll do it. And if not, then you’ll sit here, all still and pretty, and finish this movie with me. And when I let you go up to your room, you won’t touch, am I understood?”

“You’re fucking insane,” she spits, eyes on fire but her cheeks are red.

Nicholas chuckles, shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He continues watching the movie and pays her no mind apart from making sure his grip stays too tight for her to get out of. Her breathing is hard, audible, but he ignores it, acts like she’s the weirdo for thinking that this is weird, and when she finally starts squirming again, he has to bite his lip to suppress a smirk.

“Why are you making me do this?” she whispers through a huff, decidedly not looking at him.

“’m not making you do anything. It’s your decision whether you wanna be good or not.”

She scoffs. “You’re so messed up. I can’t believe I have to fucking live with you, put up with… with this shit.”

He shrugs, nonplussed. He knows she doesn’t mean it. Their relationship has never been lovey-dovey, but they’ve never been outright nasty to each other, not even during the hardest times of adjusting in the beginning. 

“Shut up and watch the movie, (Y/N),” he says, dismisses her, enjoys how she’s stewing in her anger and frustration.

It’s miniscule when it starts, the slight flexing of her thighs. Nicholas can feel it, but he doesn’t move, lets her do her thing in the hopes that she’ll get bolder with it, give herself over to her needs. He imagines her clenching her pussy, trying to get friction on her clit that way, wonders how she prefers to come. A strong exhale snaps him out of his thoughts, the way she moves further down his body, again, seeming like she’s settling in against him, but he knows she’s looking for a good angle. 

The fact that her subtility- usually a trait she possesses perfectly- goes flying out the window once she’s horny enough, needy enough, is something he stows away to use against her later, when he needs it. He’s observant, sue him, it’s just natural. 

A few minutes pass before she takes the next step, tightening her leg around him through a cough, ridiculously so. Why’d she have to cough, he thinks bemusedly, it’s not a sound she’s trying to cover up, but a movement. Wide hips and an undoubtedly needy cunt, that’s what she’s currently rolling against him, slowly and irregularly. He feels frustrated for her, there’s no way this is doing anything to help, and it shows in the way she huffs every now and then, impatience building.

“Just do it,” he whispers, keeps his voice calm and his chest even despite his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. “You can, what’re you scared of?”

The breath rushing out of her lungs is shaky as she turns her head and buries her face in his shoulder, a groan escaping her.

“Please, Nick,” she whines- sobs, almost- as he trails his hand down to her tailbone, pushes her flush against him, encourages her to rotate her hips and rub herself against him.

“That’s a good girl, just like that,” Nicholas whispers, nose in her hair, smelling the faint scent of roses. “Give in, that’s it. You can make yourself feel good, it’s okay.”

She positions herself so she gets more of his thigh between her legs and starts humping him in earnest, breathing open-mouthed against his shoulder, and he so badly wishes she would look at him, wants to see the flush on her cheeks and the tears in her eyes. 

“Does that feel good? Tell me, (Y/N).” She nods, but he isn’t satisfied. “Use your words like a big girl, c’mon. Don’t go dumb on me yet.” 

Her whine is high-pitched as she takes a moment to gather the courage, but when she does speak, it makes his cock jump where it’s trapped in his pants. 

“Y-yeah, ‘s good… oh, oh fuck.”

When he’s sure she won’t bolt, he lets go of her arms, snakes his hands around her body and guides her movements. Her hands immediately hold onto his torso, face burying in his neck, moist breath against his skin. This feels so much like heaven that he’s dizzy with it. 

“Yeah, that’s nice, ain’t it? Atta girl.”

Her movements are precise, he knows she’s found a way to make it good, to hit her desired spot just right by the way her body is bound tight, and her breathing is labored, words stuttered. That’s all he can see with her gorgeous face turned away from him, but he’ll get there. He grabs her ass and grinds his thigh into her pussy, grins at her surprised moan.

“Holy fuck,” she hisses, cants her hips back and forth across a good spot.

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that. Needed it badly, didn’t you? Your cunt’s been desperate all evening, huh?”

She nods, gives him a broken confirmation, whines when he threads his fingers into her hair and pulls.

“Nnngh, Nick, I need- ugh, I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. Look at me, (Y/N). C’mon, look at me, baby.” 

He’s pushing it with the nickname, but he doesn’t care, not when his dick is leaking steadily in his pants, needy to feel her. Not yet, though, he needs to play his cards right. 

When she looks up it knocks the breath out of his chest, the way her lips are bitten raw, her eyes glazed over, cheeks covered by a pink blush and a slight sheen of sweat. She’s so hot for it, and he’s so hot for her, and he needs her to come so he can go to his room and jerk off while thinking of exactly this scenario for… forever, probably. He’ll never get her out of his system, he just knows it, his baby stepsister anchored deep in his soul.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes, resists the urge to kiss her, but he does put a thumb to her lips and lets her suck a kiss into the pad of it while her hips work tirelessly to get her pussy off. “From now on, whenever you need it this badly, you come to me, okay? You ask me and I’ll help you. Am I making myself clear, (Y/N)?”

She nods dazedly, furrows her brows as her hips start speeding up.

“Y-yeah, Nick, I’ll ask you. Need it, need t’a ask you, need it.”

Nicholas’ heart swells three sizes at her promise and he decides to let her tumble over the edge, grinds his thigh into her center and pushes her ass down to meet the thrusts, smiles wickedly when her eyes roll back.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, yes-“

“Gonna cream your panties on your big stepbrother’s thigh? That what you need?” Forehead meeting his shoulder, she whines through a pathetic nod, lets him move her up and down before he whispers, “Let go baby. Show me how you come for your brother, c’mon.”

“Nicholas, fuck!”

The sound she makes when she releases rivals an angel choir, breathy and high and so full of ecstasy, he feels he could come right there with her, completely untouched. She rides it out, humps his thigh until she’s shuddering, until she collapses on top of his body to catch her heaving breath.

Nicholas can’t help but pull her tighter against him, hold her through her aftershocks, uncaring about the consequences, about being pushed away. She wouldn’t, no fucking way she would, not when she’s this vulnerable and he’s this willing to help her through any situation. 

They stay like that for a little before he reaches down to take her by the chin, pull her head up to look at him. There are unshed tears in her eyes, a wobbly lip, but he can’t be the one dealing with this now. She needs to settle in on her own. 

“You did so well, ‘m proud of you,” he smiles, shakes her face a little, “you okay?”

Taking a beat, she nods her head, albeit a little hesitantly. 

He smiles at that, lets go of her and darts his eyes to the stairs. 

“Good. Off you go then, get cleaned up and then get in bed. And no touching, yeah?” 

She gets up on wobbly legs, steadies herself against the back of the couch as she slowly makes her way to the stairs. Before she disappears, he calls her name, makes her turn around.

“And remember,” he says, grin smug, “you come to me. Always come to me.”

*** 

It’s summer, and it’s way too hot, and Nicholas usually finishes his daily swim before she even wakes up, but today he decides to take it easy and wait for her to take her usual place on the sunbed before he strides out to cool off in the pool.

They haven’t talked about what happened two nights ago, and they won’t, he knows, not explicitly anyway. Luckily, she isn’t avoiding him, the atmosphere when they’re around each other rather comfortable. It’s a little unnerving and a lot surprising, he must admit, but Nicholas has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

The way she’s watching him jump into the water, do his laps, lean against the side of the pool to take a breather- none of it goes unnoticed, and he enjoys it immensely. He doesn’t show off on purpose, doesn’t need to, sees her biting her lip at his usual demeanor, no exaggeration needed. When he’s counted his fifty, he heaves himself up and gets out of the pool, her eyes tracking the way his biceps bulge. A smirk makes its way onto his face, all smug, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

Taking his towel, he wipes his face dry before spreading it across the sunbed next to hers, laying down.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, hiding his eyes behind a pair of shades.

“Already did, didn’t you?”

He hums. “Guess I did.”

“Want some tanning oil?”

“Depends,” he says, dares to, “will you rub it on me?”

Her snort is full of humor, thank God.  

“Fuck no.”

“Then no, thank you.”

He loves their little banter, is fond of it, endlessly grateful that it hasn’t changed since that one fateful night. The silence stretches as they lay there, letting the rays of the sun warm their skin, and soon enough he hears shuffling coming from her side. Looking up, he can see her gathering her stuff. 

“Leaving already?”

She nods. “It’s Nina’s birthday dinner tonight, and I still need to get ready.”

“You’ll show me your outfit before you leave, right?”

Even though he’s phrased it like a question, she knows damn well that it’s an order. This pleases him.

“Yes, of course.”

She’ll go to the shower as she always does, but before she can, he decides to let his little stepsister in on a secret. She’s earned it, after all, being such a good girl for him.

“Have I ever told you that the window in my room gives me a near perfect view of the inside of our outdoor shower?” he lies conversationally, giving her a blinding smile.

Every muscle in her body tenses momentarily before she turns her head towards him ever so slowly. Her hard swallow is audible, even out here, even to him.

“No,” she rasps, voice shaky, “You never told me that, Nicholas.”

“Hm. Well, just thought you should know.”

He leaves it at that, lays back on his back, trying hard not to smirk. He can sense how this admission is fucking her up on the inside, the shock and the danger tied to it. 

He’s so sure she’ll let it go, but as has become a theme with her, she takes him by surprise when she asks, “Did you only notice? Or… did you- did you watch? Me?”

Brave little girl, he’s almost proud.

Keeping his voice borderline bored, he replies, “I watched, a little. You don’t seriously believe I could look away from a pretty little thing like you, (Y/N).”

He pulls his shades down a little and eyes her body, gives her a nasty smirk before leaning back again.

When she huffs, stalks away to get into that damn shower, he gives her all of ten seconds before he’s after her, sneaking in behind her and catching her just in time to see her bikini top fall away. When she spots him leaning against the entrance, a gasp escapes her, hands flying up to cover herself.

The gesture makes him scoff, all ridicule. 

“Please,” he says, looks her in the eye, “nothing I ain’t seen before, sweetheart.”

A frown makes its way onto her face, petulant and bratty in a way she usually isn’t, and she slowly lowers her hands, gives him an eyeful of her tits. They’re even more gorgeous up-close, and he chuckles dirtily, looks his fill.

“That’s so unfair, Nick,” she tuts, “You look at mine but won’t show me yours?”

His smile softens a little. 

“You’re lookin’ at it,” he says, arms out as if to say: there ya go! “I haven’t seen anything past your waistline, (Y/N).” The look she gives him is skeptical, but he knows what sincerity looks like, knows how to make it visible on his own face. She believes him. “Unless, you want to, of course. In which case…”

A pointed glance at her bikini bottoms has her cross her arms over her chest, scoffing.

“You wish,” she snaps, turns around and ends the conversation.

He lets her.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. But remember your one rule, yeah? You need it, you ask your big brother for help. Got it?”

When she scoffs, doesn’t say anything, chooses to ignore him, he lets himself lose a tiny thread of patience. Three steps take him towards her where he grabs her soaking wet hair, really drives his fingertips into her scalp, and yanks her back so hard her knees buckle through her obnoxious shriek.

“I asked you something, (Y/N),” he hisses, uncaring that her frantic nod makes her cause herself pain, pulling at her hair like that.

She’s grabbing at his arm as she yelps, “Yes, yes I got it, Nicholas, I got it-“

“Good,” he grits, shoves her away from him and eyes her up and down before leaving the shower, leaving her to carefully pat at her surely burning scalp. 

He had to leave, or he would’ve done some damage. Nicholas hates when she ignores him. 

Despite everything, or maybe even because of it, she knocks on his door later to get his approval for her outfit. He takes his time looking at her, makes her twirl for him, reaches under her shirt to make sure the material is thick enough to keep her warm throughout the evening. Nicholas makes her bend down as he kisses her cheek sweetly, resting his forehead against her temple.

“’m sorry,” he apologizes again, truly feeling sour at his outburst, “you be careful, and call me if you need anything, yeah?”

She nods, doesn’t say anything for a long moment before she moves her face, presses a kiss to his forehead. A soft smile directed at him is the last thing he sees before she leaves. 

*** 

It’s been a while since he’s heard the buzzing from the other side of the wall, and now that it’s cutting through the comfortable silence on this warm evening, it makes red hot fury rise in his chest.

Nicholas would consider himself a patient, understanding young man, but with how she’s been playing him, he doesn’t see his positive traits lasting for much longer. He’s been clear, twice now- made her repeat his rule, even- and yet she’s in there, defiling her precious cunt with that… that fucking toy. He hates it.

Without thinking much about it he walks out of his room and steps in front of her door, that annoying sound following him like the plague, before he bursts into her bedroom, stopping in his tracks at the scene before him.

The scoff leaves his lips before he can hold it back. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She’s on her back, legs bent and in the air, hands hidden between her thighs. The wide-eyed look she gives him- full of fear and shock- makes his gut churn. That fucking sound. He needs it off, right now.

“That fucking-“ he snaps, walks over to her and snatches the damn thing out of her hands, turns it off and throws it on the bed. Impulse has him grip her throat, revel in the way her pulse is hammering against his palm, pull her close, terrified gaze meeting his stormy eyes. He doesn’t care. He told her, and now look at her disrespect. “What the fuck did I tell you, huh?”

“Nicholas, wh- what are you-“

He shakes her, not gently, grabs her hair in his other hand so she’d look at him. “What is your rule, (Y/N)? Hm? The one fucking rule I gave you, and here you are, breaking it, fucking-“ he blindly pats the bed in search for the toy, finds it, holds it up to her, “-for this? This thing? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

She doesn’t comprehend, he can tell, and although he usually loves when he’s got her speechless and dumb, now it just pisses him off beyond belief. There’s no way she didn’t know, no fucking way she didn’t know.

“Explain yourself,” he hisses, grips her tighter, wedges himself between her spread thighs and does his best to ignore the warmth emitting from that place. He’s willing to give her a chance, and she better not waste it. 

“I- I didn’t-“ she whimpers, swallows, “I didn’t know you were being- being actually serious, I… I was s-scared.”

The tears in her eyes are threatening to overflow and Nicholas feels his cock twitch at that. Good, let her cry.

He scoffs. “And you expect me to believe that, after everything?”

“What if I had been wrong and you had been fucking with me all along?” she yells, then, surprises him with the way she fights through the tremor in her voice. “You would’ve deemed me a freak and- and shunned me, and then what? Then I’d be without a brother, and- I’d hate- hate that. So much. Fuck!”

He can feel his gaze soften along with his grip on her hair, butterflies exploding in his stomach. His little stepsister needs him, needs him way more than he needs her, apparently, needs him in a way that is so beyond sexual that it makes his head spin. He can work with that, will work with that, until she’s nothing but a thin thread wrapped around his little finger, nothing but a miniscule puddle of putty in his wide palm. 

He suppresses a smirk, turns it into a warm smile, instead. 

“Oh, baby,” he coos, scoots closer and rests his forehead against hers, feels her heaving chest and warm breath, “you’ll never be without me again, you hear me? There’s nothing you could do that would turn me away from you. Now that we’re siblings, this shit is forever, do you understand? Tell me, (Y/N).”

Her eyes are screwed shut but she nods at his demand, inhales deeply and exhales slowly, calming herself like a big girl. His big girl.

“Ye-yeah, I guess,” she murmurs, “I do now.”

He hums, leans in and presses their mouths together, a dry press with explosive consequences. His heart starts hammering in his chest when she lets out a sigh against his lips, and he breaks away with a smile, looks her in the eye.

“Okay?”

She nods, licks her red, red lips. Another kiss, just as chaste. He won’t give in, not yet. 

“Now,” he starts, puts the bass back in his voice, “this… this can’t go unpunished, though, you get that, right?”

Her eyes widen while her brows furrow, confusion evident on that gorgeous face. He looks at her sheepishly.

“W-why? It wasn’t, like, on purpose.”

Nick chuckles, finds the toy easily, turns it over in his hands. It’s slightly sticky where it’s been pressed against her, but he doesn’t mind. He intends to make it messier. 

“Accidents can happen, of course,” he drawls, allows, “but this early on in our relationship? Nah, don’t think so.”

With that he switches the toy on, leans back and pushes her thighs apart, moves slow and deliberate. Her gaze stays questioning up until he presses the buzzing vibrator against her cunt fully, watches when her leg twitches. She’s beautiful down here, wet and swollen, lips that will frame the fat length of his cock nicely, a sweet little clit that he’ll love to torture to completion. He’s got so many plans for her, but for now he ignores the salivating of his mouth and focuses his eyes on her rolled back ones, turns the vibe up a notch and smirks wickedly.

“You wanted to come, little sister?” he asks, chuckles darkly, “I’ll make you come. Over and over and over, until you beg me to stop.” Another press of the button, another violent lurch of her upper body that he holds down no problem, “And when you do start to beg,” he hisses, presses closer, revels in her whining and gasping, “I will ignore it, and make this pussy sob for me again, you hear me?” 

Nicholas smiles as she comes, spasms so hard he almost loses his tight grip on her, but thankfully his body is big enough to keep her thighs apart around it. Where only minutes ago he hated the sound of this little tool, he now ignores it expertly, presses it against her clit and appreciates the help it gives him. Her wails, the punching of her fists against the mattress through her next orgasms would alert everyone in the house if it weren’t empty, and he can’t wait to hear those sounds when he’s got her impaled on his dick.

“Please, no more, no-“

“Take it,” he says, flicks his wrist, “Give me more, c’mon.”

“Nicholas, I can’t!” she sobs, grabs the sheets to hold on to something, to bear the assault on her cunt better. “Hurts, Nick, please, hurts!”

“Good,” he smiles, turns it all the way up after her fifth peak, “Let it hurt, baby, let this pussy submit to me. Let her say her goodbyes to this goddamn thing,” he can’t help but snarl, “I’ll be all you need from now on, yeah, everything this pussy needs. Your big brother, your owner, all in one, huh?” 

Her last orgasm has her thrash against his hold, throwing her head back, but he keeps his hand right where it hurts the most, forces her to ride it out until her bones shake with it. 

When he finally, finally turns the toy off and tosses it aside, he carefully gathers her shivering body in his arms, holds her face against his neck and rocks her back and forth. Nick makes sure her legs stay spread where they’re shaking uncontrollably, makes sure nothing toucher her overstimulated pussy. It’ll take her a while to stop crying, he guesses, he doesn’t want to draw it out more than necessary. 

Say what you want about him, but he’s no monster. 

When her breath has evened out and her tremors have subsided, he lets his hand find her hair and grip it once more, firmly, not cruelly. Looking into her eyes, he smiles, kisses her lips, whispers, “What’s your rule, little sister?”

She shudders but replies, “Wh-when I want to come, I tell you. I ask you for help.” 

He nods, gets up slowly, adjusts his rock-hard cock in his pants. Her wide eyes track every movement, but he stays resilient, turns to leave the room but changes his mind. Two steps take him back to her where he grabs her, pries her mouth open forcefully, spits inside where a whimper is fighting its way out, cracks his hand across one rosy, tear-streaked cheek and gets off on the shocked sob that escapes her.

Straightening out, he moves to the door.

“And don’t you dare ever fucking forget it.”

*** 

It’s not like he’s got some masterplan when it comes to her, it’s not like he’s calm and collected and in control of his mind and body, it’s just that he has strong instincts and even stronger impulses and he can’t help but act on them, not in his life outside of this house he’s sharing with her, but here? Definitely, evidently. 

He isn’t in control, not really, because he loses his mind little by little, every day. When she passes by him on her way to the fridge and drives her hand through his hair, when she smiles at him from where she’s laying on the sunbed, when she lets him watch her shower. The way she asks if he approves of her outfit, if she should make him food, if she can have a hug. 

She’s never asked for a kiss, but he gives her some anyway, knows she wants them by the way she melts into the touches, lets his tongue roam around in that sinful mouth, lets him pull her closer by the grip on her ass. 

The first time Nicholas gives her his cock, not fully, but pushes it between her lips, is when they’re under the shower.

It goes like this: she beckons him to follow her into the outdoor shower so he can oversee that she really does get clean, as he does often, points to her body parts and smiles when she drags her loofah along that spot. He helps her where she can’t reach, gets her back for her, the backs of her thighs, scrubs her clean really well. He’s in his swimwear so he doesn’t mind getting wet, pulls her against his chest, her ass pressed to his crotch, soaps up her tits, massages them, pinches her hard nipples and chuckles at her moan.

Strong hands drift down lower, over her stomach and down to where he knows her cunt is already clenching, getting wet. 

“Have to clean this dirty pussy as well, don’t we?” he whispers before spreading her open with one hand, driving between her folds with the other.

He keeps this step clinical for the most part, takes his time as her breaths starts to get shallow, all the way up until she gives in and with her bottom lip clutched between those perfect teeth asks him, “Big brother, can you please make me come?”

Oh, he’ll never tire of this.

“Of course, baby,” he replies, because this is for him as much as her. Moreso for him, probably. 

Her twitching clit feels hard under his pointer finger where he’s circling it, drawing down to her hole to gather some of her juices to make the glide better, making sure to keep her out of the spray of the water. As expected, her eyes are glued to what he’s doing between her wide hips, moaning softly with every swipe of his finger.

“Mmm, what have we got here?” he asks teasingly as he lets two of his fingers circle her entrance, two because he knows she can take it, “A hungry little hole, hm?” 

They push in easily, make her breath hitch, and he maneuvers them so they’re standing under the shower stream, so it’s aimed right at her exposed clit. His stepsister spasms, but he holds her tightly. The water banging down on her swollen nub, his fingers pressing against that gorgeous spot inside of her, his voice whispering delicious filth in her ear- she’s naïve if she ever thought she stood a chance.

She comes with a silent cry, lets him bear the weight of her shaking body as she lets the sensations overcome her, moans as he talks her through it, good fucking girl, that’s my babysis, if only I had known about how sweet this cunt is, give it to me, just like that, tight little hole and it’s all for me.

When she sinks to her knees slowly, he doesn’t protest. Unsure if the wetness on her face is from the water or her tears, he decides to take it easy on her, pats her head and soothes her as she buries her face in his soaked swim shorts. She finds the tent in them easily, mouths at it, looking up at him from under her clumped lashes.

He scoffs, fondness in every dangerous syllable as he says, “Don’t bare your throat to me unless you want me to fuck it.”

But his little girl, God bless her neediness, soldiers on, licks a stripe up to his navel so his hands would have enough space to pull his shorts down. Mind hazy with the view she’s giving him- her little body beneath him, submitting on her knees- he grabs his cock as it springs free, feeds it into her panting mouth and groans when she doesn’t stop swallowing him down, lets him into the depths of this fuckhole. The bobbing and sucking that immediately follow has him hold on to the wall, knees weak.

“Yeah, yes,” he laughs, delirious with lust, “That’s a good girl, fuck. Who’s been fucking my little sister, huh? Who’s been teaching you to take cock this good?”

She lets him go with a pop, doesn’t say anything as she bunches four of her fingers up and shoves them down her throat, down to the knuckles, not a single gag or splutter leaving her mouth. His ears ring at the sight, and he’d never call her this out loud, but he considers himself more than blessed to have such an eager and naturally talented whore on his hands. The thought of her standing in front of the bathroom mirror, gagging on her own fingers, practicing for her stepbrother’s cock, training that throat for its intended use, spit and tears on the determined lines of her face, makes his pulse quicken and balls throb.

“Fuck,” he growls, grabs her by the hair and shoves in, her nose nestled in his pubes nicely. She struggles, but not much, and he realizes that he wouldn’t care even if she did. He gave her a fair warning. “Fucking perfect, yeah, sucking me so well, take that dick, just like that. ‘m gonna load up your mouth nicely, baby, gonna feed you full, gonna take days for the taste of my jizz to leave your molars, fuck-“

Nick’s orgasm crashes over him full force, has him bend and press even deeper into her mouth, laughing through her whines and protests, the slapping of her hands against whatever body part of his she can reach. She can’t breathe because of him, but he, as well, can’t breathe because of her, so it checks out. When he lets her go, she scrambles away from him, coughs through forceful inhales, wide and scared eyes looking up at him.

“Told you,” he pants, shrugs, “you wanted it.” 

She doesn’t say anything- even if she did, it’d barely come out, he knows, voice shot to shit. He washes himself quickly, rids his skin of the stickiness of her spit, before grabbing her by her upper arm and roughly hauling her to her feet.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me-“

“Shut the fuck up and let me take care of you,” he says, starts washing her sloppily, and he was right. Her voice is hoarse.

“Could do it more gently,” she grumbles, yelps when he bites at her shoulder, soothes the spot with his tongue.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers over the noise of the shower, “That was… talent.”

She chuckles shily, turns to look up at him.

“Can I have a kiss?”

His gut clenches as his face explodes in a smile, pulling her in to kiss her deeply. The way she melts into him, lets herself be held despite knowing what those hands are capable of, makes his heart jump for her.

It’s a sticky situation, but he’s got the upper hand, still.

He has to make sure it stays that way.

*** 

“This tastes vile.”

“No, it doesn’t! Sweet and salty is a classic combination!”

“The textures are weird, though. I need to chew my popcorn thoroughly so I wouldn’t choke on it, and the Malteser is… distracting.”

A snort. “You three years old, Nicholas? Gotta focus on chewing that bad, huh?”

“You little-“

“Ah, stop! That tickles, Nick- ah, no! No, don’t-“

“I’ll show you three years old!”

Laughter, panting, snickering, silence.

“Watch the damn movie, you brat.”

“I’m all out of Maltesers now.”

“Good, that’ll keep you from coming up with these weird concoctions.”

“Tsk. Jerk.”

The sound of lips smacking. 

*** 

Their parents come back earlier than expected. Nicholas isn’t mad at that, but things will become trickier with her now. They’ll have to be sneakier, more careful, but the risk of getting caught makes something hot clench in his stomach. No doubt, they’ll manage well.

He’s asked to pick them up from the airport and he doesn’t object, takes his stepsister with him. The drive is comfortable, she plays her favorite songs, he hums along.

“Oh, Nicky,” their mom sighs when she pulls away from a hug, smiling sheepishly, teeth whiter in contrast with her tan. There’s two people standing next to their parents, Nicholas doesn’t know them. “We told Sandra and Marcus that we’ll drive them home, we didn’t expect (Y/N) to come with you.” 

Oh. Oops. Six people, five seats, that’ll be a tight fit. 

“We can also just take a cab-“

“Nonsense,” their dad interrupts Sandra, “(Y/N) will just sit in Nicholas’ lap, right? Y’all don’t mind, do you, kids?” 

The look he gives them, stern in good old Chavez fashion, leaves no room for argument.

“Um…” her eyes are darting from him to their dad, but Nicholas just shrugs, does his best to look nonchalant. 

“’course not, it’s a short drive. Let’s just hope we don’t get caught.”

His dad brushes him off before he motions for their friends to start walking with them, Nicholas leading the way. (Y/N) stays behind with her mom, talking quietly. The whole way home with her ass perched on his lap? He wills his dick to calm down where it’s chubbing up in his pants, to no avail. His body does what it wants. Having arrived at the car, their dad puts the suitcases in the trunk while the others pile in one after the other, Nicholas’ sister the very last to sit down, getting comfortable on his lap. He groans when she moves roughly to get situated, a small apology falling from her lips. He pinches her side for that, causing her to yelp, gets snapped at by their dad for it. 

“Behave, y’all,” he grumbles, making Nicholas smirk.

(Y/N) still gets uncomfortable when dad scolds her, too apologetic for her own good, but Nick knows there’s very little heat behind the roughly spoken words. It’s what he has in common with his father, he supposes.

They start driving and Nicholas ducks his head as much as he can so they wouldn’t look too suspicious in case they drive by a cop car. The grownups are talking loudly amongst themselves, and he loops his hands around her waist, holds her steady. Her head barely touches the top of the car, and he loves just how small she is. The urge to kiss at the back of her neck is huge, but he resists. He’ll just have to sneak into her room later and put her on her knees, fuck her throat the way he’s been doing for the past few days.

Not much time passes before she starts squirming.

“Y’alright?” he asks her, loosening his hold in case it puts her body in an uncomfortable position.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. All good.”

A beat passes before she does it again, presses her weight down on his lap, making him clench his teeth. There’s no way she can’t feel his boner, and there’s no way he’ll do anything about anything right here, right now. Fucking tease, his sister is. 

“Can you quit it?” he hisses lowly when she honest to God grinds her ass down, makes him dizzy for a split second. The inseam of his jeans has never felt tighter and his dick’s never been more familiar with discomfort than just now.

The giggle she lets out gets muffled by her palm as she glances back at him, all wide-eyed and falsely innocent, and she shrugs.

“Sorry, big brother, ‘s just a little uncomfy like this.”

The way she purrs it, that bittersweet name, makes his gut churn. He has half a mind to keep from pinching her sides, grabbing her hair and shaking her so she’ll stop her shenanigans. If she thinks that she can act out now just because their parents are back home, lulled into false security, she’s got another thing coming.

“That’s a great song, dad. Can you turn it up a little?” he calls, smiling when his dad obliges.

“That’s my boy,” the older man says, ever the rock’n’roll fan.

Now that the music’s loud enough, distracting enough, Nicholas dares to put his lips next to her ear, hiss out a warning. 

“You keep this little charade up and I’ll hurt your cunt until you’re crying on my tongue when we get home, (Y/N).”

It can be interpreted as something sexy, tinged with a little bit of sultry, but she knows better. When he mentions pain, he means pain. She knows that damn well, scared despite the fact that she gets off on it. Nicholas prefers to keep his girl on her toes.

“Sorry,” she whispers, a tilt to her mouth, but when their dad accidentally overlooks a pothole and the car jumps, she lets her weight press down harder than necessary, grabs his thigh to steady herself but digs her little finger in just a little too deep. 

Alright then, he’s warned her.

Her skirt is wide, frilly enough to hide his hand sneaking down between his own legs, up to reach between hers, his eyes trained on the unassuming guests next to them. The couple seems too preoccupied to pay them any mind, though, and he uses that to his advantage, presses his knuckles into his stepsister’s pussy and rubs roughly. Clever little girl, hides her yelp of surprise behind a cough, same way he hides his smirk when he feels the damp fabric, feels the way her clit hardens under his merciless touch.

“You stay quiet now,” he whispers, pulsing his touch against her skin, teasing her into an approaching orgasm. Not that he’ll let her come, not now and not later, for that matter. 

Where only minutes ago her grinding and rocking pissed him off, he now enjoys feeling her chase her pleasure, enjoys how hard she’s trying to be subtle. A quick glance towards the others tells him that nobody is looking at them, still enjoying the music, and her face in the rearview mirror is stoic as well, just a tiny furrow between her brows a potential giveaway, but only to those who know what’s going on, only to Nicholas. 

“Good baby, my good fuckin’ baby,” he rasps, clutches at her pussy and squeezes, makes her feel it.

Another whimper, another cough.

“Y’alright, sweetheart?” their mother then asks, turning down the music, forcing Nicholas to still his hand and hold his breath in hopes of not getting caught. “You’ve been coughing an awful lot during the drive.”

(Y/N) just smiles, shakes her head.

“It’s nothing, mom, just something in my throat. We were watching a movie and having popcorn before picking you guys up, must be a kernel that’s stuck or something.”

Her mom looks back, gaze worried but she nods, placated. 

The rest of the ride home doesn’t take long, thank God, and he lets their parents settle back in, assures them that they’ve eaten, tells them they’ll finish the movie they had started in his room before ushering her upstairs, mildly annoyed at her sudden inability to walk properly.

“The fuck’s gotten into you?” he hisses, pushes her up the stairs.

“’m so wet, my legs feel like jello,” she whimpers, and he almost forces her on her knees right there in the hallway, but alas, he’s got to keep his very last thread of patience alive if he wants to train her to be his perfect little doll. She won’t learn otherwise, he fears.

“You’re cute,” he smiles before pushing his door open, pulling her into the room and immediately making sure she falls onto his bed- made and ready, for a change- watching him as he locks the door. “You’ll be cuter when I’m done with you, though.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to ride her skirt up, pull her panties down and stuff them in her mouth, wet patch first. Her pussy is glistening in front of him, and he wastes no time putting his mouth on it and sucking hard, the pain of the blood rushing to the surface making her groan. Pain, he promised, pain, she’ll get. She peaks quickly but he doesn’t let her go over the edge, pulls away and lands a nasty slap on her pussy that leaves her shaking, leaves her throbbing. 

“That’s what you fuckin’ get you goddamn tease,” he snaps before continuing his pattern.

He eats, waits, slaps. Eats, waits, slaps. 

Holds his palm over her cunt and presses, moves, watches her writhe with the cotton hanging from her mouth, little sister mouth filled with little sister panties. His cock throbs for it. 

When she’s actively crying, sobbing her little heart out, he throws her legs in the air and commands her to hold them up. It’s a testament to her desperation, the way she obliges without complaint, the way she’s been doing as told without a single tone of complaint. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame. Two moves and his cock is free, hanging heavy between his shaky legs but he doesn’t care, grabs it and jerks himself before his knees can give out.

“That’s a good girl, present yourself to your big brother,” he moans, looks at her puffy pussy and her wide, teary eyes, the way she’s begging with them, eyeing the blur of his hand over his fat dick before settling her pleading gaze onto his. “Gonna come, gonna cover you in it, mark my territory and make you smell like me, y’want that, (Y/N)? Want everyone to know that your sweet cunt belongs to your big brother?”

This kink is getting out of hand, but he doesn’t give a single fuck, because where he is sick and rotten, she is, too.

She nods through a moan and there he is, spurting his hot semen all across her slapped-red cunt, covering what’s his from the outside, for now. She gasps when the streaks hit her skin, rocks back and forth while he rides out his climax, and when he’s done, all panting and heavy-lidded, he drives his fingers through the mess and brings it up to her lips, smearing it on her underwear.

“You know this one already, don’t you?” he says, breath heavy as he continues to clean her that way, soiling her panties. “That’s what you did with the thong I ruined, didn’t you? Sucked my jizz out of the lace like a come-addicted little slut, didn’t you? Huh?”

A single tear rolls down her shame-tinted cheek, and he groans through a chuckle.

“Show me. Show me how you did it.”

The ruined cotton gets pulled out between her lips before her tongue finds it, licks the globs away roughly, sweet lips pursing over the material before her little cheeks hollow, sucking his juices out. If he hadn’t been using her every day, he’d be rock hard again now, but alas, his balls are empty and the contents of them are currently being greedily sucked down her talented throat. Nicholas is one lucky guy.

When she’s done, he rips the panties out of her mouth and kisses her bruisingly, hungrily, devours the taste of their combined fluids and moans when she pulls him close. Being held onto is one of Nicholas’ favorite things in the world, the sheer need in such a simple gesture, but nobody’s body has ever felt this right around his. 

“What the fuck,” she whispers against his lips, laughing through the tears that are staining her cheeks. “I feel like I came but I didn’t. What…”

He smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You’ll be coming soon enough, baby, this was just a little taste of what happens when you piss me off. And you did piss me off, that teasing in the car was- it was almost unbearable. Nearly fucked you right then and there.”

Her smile is small, almost timid, but it vanishes quickly. Nicholas tilts his head in question and gets an answer immediately, albeit reluctantly. 

“Why… Why haven’t you? Fucked me yet, I mean. We’ve been doing this, us, for a while now and you’ve never… I don’t- I’m just wondering, ‘s all.” 

A stutter in his chest tells him his heart’s melting for her, the insecure tilt to her voice, and he has to try hard not to jump her right then and there. Leave it to his girl to catch him off guard, rip at the reigns he’s clutching onto so tightly. He makes sure to keep his voice soft, tries to make her understand without spooking her, now that she’s eating from the palm of his hand like this. 

“You’re the sweetest thing, do you know that?” he muses, taps her chin when she looks away. “I just don’t wanna rush anything. I wanna take my time with you, make it real good for you… You can understand that, right?”

It’s not really a question, but she nods like the good girl she is.

“You that desperate for my cock, (Y/N)?” he can’t help but tease, earning himself a swat to the shoulder. They laugh together, his favorite sound. 

“I was just curious, Nick. Usually guys are, well-“

“I’m not just any guy though, okay?” his voice is stern now, all humor wiped from it. “I won’t treat you like they did. I’m your stepbrother, I care about you.”

The warm smile she gives him zaps him right down to his toes, leaning in so she can kiss him the way she wants to. They make out a little, enjoy each other. 

He makes a mental note, smug about her needing him so badly. A lot can be done with that, and he plans to see just how much fun it’ll bring him.

*** 

The sneaking around is even harder than he imagined, their parents insisting to make up for lost time and not parting from them for even a day. It’s visits to the park, family barbecues, movie nights, the whole shebang. He barely manages to get a kiss in when they’re passing each other in the hallway, a slap to the ass when she walks out of the bathroom before he walks in. 

A feeling of restlessness comes with it, paired with the irrational fear of false scrutiny. What if it’s written all over his face, he thinks, that he wants her, whenever he looks at her, that he’s fighting off the urge to kiss her whenever she’s close, to rest his hand atop her thigh and feel her muscles twitch, to lean his arm against hers when they’re standing close, to bury his nose in her hair and inhale the chamomile scent of her latest favorite shampoo? Poker faces take years to construct, and he’s used the time wisely, but what if, now that he has her, his has crumbled to pieces at his unsteady feet?

So Nicholas adjusts, turns away when he catches her looking for too long, keeps the touching to a minimum, makes sure to roll his eyes at her whenever their mom is around, makes sure to let some sour jokes slip whenever their dad listens in, just to keep the illusion up.

He makes do, as does she, even though he knows she doesn’t like it.

“I ain’t mean it like that, you know that,” he cajoles when she gets mad for real, squeezes at his heart with one well-placed pout. 

“I know, ‘s just… it sucks, y’know?”

Well, if that ain’t true.

He holds her through some big feelings, as a big brother should, kisses it better whenever the opportunity arises. 

“Is she still not up? What’s gotten into her, I told her the time of departure!”

“Relax, mom, we’ve still got another forty minutes,” Nicholas says through a mouthful of an apple, scrolling on his phone. It pings with an invite to a party next Saturday, and he saves the info to think it over later. 

“Oh, you know how long she takes in the bathroom,” mom grumbles, fleets about in the kitchen to pack the snacks and sandwiches, making sure they’re set for the day at the lake. Nicholas doesn’t know where his dad is. “Go wake her, please, Nick? I’ve still got so much to pack.”

“Do you need my help with that?”

“No, I need to not be interrupted. Go get (Y/N), please?”

He sighs and gets up, throws the apple core away. Sticky hands find his jeans and he wipes them thoughtlessly, much to the dismay of the woman who still does his laundry, as he makes his way up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. He knocks twice- just for shits and gigs, uncaring about whatever privacy his sister thinks she gets in this house- before opening her door and stopping in his tracks. 

Slow steps take him inside, shutting the door behind himself, and the sight before him makes his stomach clench. She’s in her tank top, one boob spilling out from the material, and her little panties, framing her cheeks perfectly from where she’s got one leg bent. Her face is smushed in the pillow so her mouth purses in a pout, half open, red and drooly. 

It takes him a split second to make the decision. They haven’t talked about it, but they never talk about anything, not really. He takes and she gives, that’s their dynamic, that’s who they are. So it’s guilt-free when he walks over to her bed, pulls his joggers and underwear down, grips his cock to stroke it to hardness. 

The memory of how he had her throat around his cock every night before the return of their parents gets him there fast, makes him miss it even more now, the need pooling low in his gut. 

There’s precome dripping from his slit and he bends his knees a little so her face is in front of his crotch, smears his cockhead on those full lips, smirks when she scrunches her nose up before her face relaxes again. Heartbeat in his throat, he does it again, groans when her tongue darts out this time. Her reflexes seem to revolve around fucking him up, making the darkest of thoughts push to the forefront of his mind, even in her sleep.

“Good fuckin’ girl, fuck,” Nick murmurs under his breath, jerks his cock faster and makes sure to bump against her lips on every upstroke, gloss her gorgeous pout with his essence. She’s so adorable, and all his to ruin. 

He strokes himself a little faster, gets closer and pulls his cock up so his balls would bump against her chin, her nose, wherever they can reach on every upstroke. Laughing isn’t an option but he’d like to, let the dirty sound out, indulge fully in how he’s humiliating her without her knowledge. Maybe he’ll ask her if he can film her next time. He loves her, she knows that, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, would only do all the baddirtywrong things that make her pussy clench for him.

One hand reaches out to grab at her face and pinch her cheeks, create a delicious pout that serves as the perfect little cup when he finally spills onto her face, onto her lips, streaks the inside of her mouth and groans lowly when her lashes flutter around her slowly opening eyes.

“Wh-“

“Shut up,” he hisses, grabs her rougher as he rides out his orgasm, “take it, little girl, take it, have my come, taste it, atta girl, there she is-“

“Nicholas!” the whine bubbles out of her throat, somewhat garbled through the come covering her mouth, and she scrunches her face up when he lets her go, exhales deeply before holding his softening dick out to her.

“Well?” he asks, expectant look on his face and the ball of pride in his chest explodes into a million fuzzy feelings when she only contemplates for a second before taking him in her mouth, cleaning him up.

She swallows all he gave her, collects everything from around her mouth onto her tongue, lips smacking at the taste.

“What the hell was that?” she asks, no real heat behind her words. Her voice is shot from sleep, all raspy and adorable.

He bends down to press a kiss against her forehead.

Nick gives her a shrug.

“You got my come, don’t complain,” he tells her, matter-of-factly, “also, mom wants you downstairs ASAP. We’re leaving soon.” 

Her annoyed huff is amusing to him, but he leaves her be for now, wants to keep the teasing for later. 

“Oh, and (Y/N)?” He waits for her to look at him. “I’ll make it up to you later. Come find me in the outdoor shower when you’re done, we’ll make it quick.”

The blush on her cheeks stays with him all the way downstairs. 

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@nicholaschavezslut69 / @blackynsupremacy / @motherismotheringggg / @lalavenderangel / @niteskysx / @nicholaslut / @nicholaschavezbby / @emluvsuxo 🖤

[revelboo]

I recently saw some transformers figures at target and couldn't help but laugh at how bad they were 😭. this pack was for tfone, but they just straight up put cyberverse starscream and g1 Megatron in the pack instead. and they gave optimus his g1 face, but tfone body??? idk what happened but they did my boys dirty, only b127 is from the correct universe lol. I'm definitely sticking to the blokees, they're way cuter anyways

🤣 oh those are awful.

Off to a great start- just accidentally traumatized a bunch of coworkers apparently. Someone brought in some plants from their greenhouse and my weird little brain zeroes in on a teeny jumping spider on one. So I’m just standing in an office with four other people letting it parkour over my fingers and making everyone else really uncomfortable. I was only halfway paying attention and it bungeed to freedom at some point. I’ve never seen any of them ever move as fast as when I said ‘oops.’

Everything Is Alright Pt 144

Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Head resting against him, you can feel the thrum of his spark, that steady, familiar pulse sinking into you. And you don’t know what to make of the fact that he’d stopped. That he could have taken what he wanted and hadn’t. But then maybe that’s it. Maybe he doesn’t want you. Guilt twists through you when you think of it in that light, because he’d not bonded you because he’d loved you. Or even liked you. He’d been trying to save your life and had ended up trapping himself. Neither of you have really talked about it either aside from you awkwardly thanking him. He has to resent you for that. And for shoving Star’s sparkling off on him. By all rights, he should despise you. Which is why you can’t understand when he does stuff like this, holding you so gently.

• “You’re quiet,” Megatron grumbles, chin brushing the top of your head. Upset about Starscream being upset? And you shift against him, curling into him as if seeking his warmth. The back of one of your hands cool against his plating as he reaches up to capture it in his. “If you spend all your time trying to keep Starscream happy, you’ll never be happy yourself.” Because that seeker is too mercurial, his moods shifting too quickly driven by his ambitions.

• “What about you?” You ask, throat tight. Starting to piece together patterns in his behavior. If anyone else is around, he plays the warlord. But even when it’s only the two of you, you’re not sure that he’s actually happy. He just drops the mail because you’re no threat to him. And how could he be happy when he’d been saddled with you, all of his choices stripped away? “I’m so sorry.” For getting him involved in this mess without a say. For taking his choices away. Trapping him with you.

• Stiffening when your voice breaks, he looks down and grimaces. Again? Hasn’t even done anything and you’re leaking again. Primus help him understand strange, soft organics and the way their minds work. “Why am I always upsetting you without even doing anything?” He growls, gripping your chin and tipping your face up. And you offer him a watery smile to make him vent in frustration. What imagined slight is he guilty of now?

• Almost laughing at his expression even though it’s not really funny at all, you twist around in his lap to straddle him and lean forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. And he freezes completely making you sure you shouldn’t have done that. That he really isn’t interested and he’s only touched you to aggravate Star. That’s why he’d stopped so quickly, he didn’t want you, only to mess with Star. “I really didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you manage as he just stares at you. “And you shouldn’t have to deal with this. With me.” And Starscream. Can’t understand why he’d saved you to begin with. Why he’d bothered when you’re nothing to him. And he just tips his head back to stare at the ceiling, a big hand cupping the back of your neck. “I know you didn’t want this.”

• “You little fool,” he murmurs, tone affectionate. Jaw working, he huffs through his vents, trying to figure out what you’re thinking. So sick of misunderstandings. Do you think you somehow took advantage of him? Head ducking, his mouth brushes yours as his other hand slides to your hip and tightens on you. Tugs you more flush against him. And those soft hands cling to him as you make a soft noise. “I chose this,” he growls, head lifting so his lips barely ghost against yours.

• “What do you want?” Wings flaring aggressively, Starscream’s optics narrow as Shockwave stares him down, unintimidated by his bared denta. Hates that he has no idea what’s going through the scientist’s processor. No tells to what he’s thinking. Still aside from the soft sound of his cannon slowly tapping against his thigh as his head turns back toward the door. Like he knows you’re in there with Megatron. Like he knows everything.

• Head tipping as Shockwave’s attention slides from the closed door to Megatron’s habsuite to the Seeker, he tries to figure that out himself. Because he’s been fixating on this world even before they crashed here. Had seeded this world with energon millennia ago. Chose this world for his experiments, even though there were other worlds better suited to it. So why this world? Why does this one matter to him. There’s something there in the dark corners of his processor, a memory just out of reach that doesn’t even feel like it’s his. There’s a reason why he keeps getting drawn back here, but he can’t get ahold of it. And that missing piece hurts him, digs in with jagged edges when he tries to focus on it, tries to remember.

Previous

[6ix9inewiturmom]

can we? - Christopher Sturniolo

Summary: in which chris and you broke up but remained friends with benefits, but had a little scare..

Warnings: cursing, Chris x fem!reader, mentions of sex, drinking, break ups, and pregnancy.

A/N: HIIIIII, so i know a while ago someone asked if i could do my other fic where they get a positive pregnancy test instead of negative, but with a little twist :) i hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for the love i’ve received, i know i said i was back but im locking in chat :)

Chris and I had a weird relationship from the get-go, meeting on Tinder had a lot to do with that. Growing up I was never shown what real love was supposed to be, so I ended up always being with the wrong guys, unfortunately, I thought it would never have an impact on me, which to my surprise, it did. Opening up and love was always scary for me, when I met Chris, I was vulnerable, hopeless, and just broken, I wasn’t looking for anything serious when we met I was honestly just looking for friends with benefits. The universe played a big role in all that because I ended up falling in love with him. Unfortunately, because I was hurting from my unresolved childhood trauma and some other things mixed in the loop, I ended up screwing things up with Chris after 3 years we aren’t together, but considering he was a big chunk of my life and we were each other first everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, I taught that man how to fuck like a GOD, we both decided to remain friends and fuck buddies.

Occasionally Chris and I would spend the night with each other and chill together as friends, tonight happened to be one of those nights, Nick and Matt both learned not to ask too many questions about Chris and me or our situationship we had and my roommate, Bella, knew the same. Chris had finished filming a video and invited me over for the night to watch one of the new episodes of Baddies, which he knew was one of my favorite things to watch weekly, of course knowing us, we couldn’t even make it through the first 20 minutes before my clothes were off and he was balls deep in me. We both lay naked in his freshly clean sheets, bodies intertwined, his hand brushing through my hair, weirdly invested in the show. “wait so Chrisean isn’t on Baddies anymore? But her sister is? Where is Chrisean? She was my favorite crash out and she knew how to throw hands” he expresses.

“Okay so you know Chrisean and Blueface were together? Well, she had a baby and stuff so she’s got priorities now” I slightly laugh out.

“oh yeah speaking of babies, have you gotten your period yet? I know you’ve been on that birth control and I know we haven’t been practicing safe sex whatsoever” he says slightly leaning over to look at me as my eyes widen and my heart drops to my stomach. Shit. When Chris and I ended things I wasn’t the most responsible with my birth control and I wasn’t taking it as directed, I quickly shot up.

“fuck, Chris, do you still have that spare pregnancy test in your dresser? cause the box only had 2 and we’ve used 1 prior” I run my fingers through my hair resting my hands on my head.

“Y/N, chill your on birth control right? like isn’t the whole point of it is that you can get endlessly creampied and not worry about babies?” he rubs my warm back slightly

“Chris, so I may have mentioned this sooner but after we ended things I wasn’t very responsible about taking them… I would miss a couple of days here and there and then go to work and forget about them and” I sigh “fuck!” I slightly shout.

Chris gets up walks to the bedside table pulls out the test still wrapped in the blue wrapper and gives me a slight smile.

“oh thank fuck” I say snatching the test out of his hand running to the bathroom quickly and ripping the stick out of the plastic “AND IT’S THE DIGITAL ONE!” I squeal.

“so the one we don’t have to put a light on to read it?” he laughs pushing up his sweatpants where they hang onto his lower hips perfectly giving a view of his v-line and leaning against the frame of the door.

after peeing on the stick I stand up put the cap on it place it upside down, and look at Chris nervously. “do you mind throwing me something to wear? I’m feeling a little underdressed for the occasion” I joke.

Chris reached over to throw me something off his dresser, of course, it was his new unreleased sweat set from his brand. “you’ve always looked hot in my clothes” he smiled.

We both knew we weren’t together, we knew we shouldn’t be hanging out like this, and we knew we acted like we were. I mean he would pick me up at work to take me to lunch, drive me to and from work from time to time, and even kiss me before parting ways. We weren’t together but if anyone would look on the outside, they’d think we were. We weren’t together but could be having a baby? What would that make us? Where would we live? What would we do? What about his career? I sent myself down a spiral of thoughts while throwing on the clothes he gave me to wear.

“…what if we used my mom's name and like.. Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, clearly snapping me out of a trance of thoughts.

“oh um yeah, I heard you,” I say clearing my throat.

“Y/N, be for real, I can read you like the back of my hand, what’s going on in that cranium of yours?” he laughs walking closer to me and guiding me to sit on the floor with him.

“We aren’t together Chris... I could be pregnant” I sigh looking down and playing with my bracelet.

“so?” he laughs out “we’ll get a place together, maybe a cute little apartment, and raise a baby together” he places his hand on mine calming down any nerves i once had just with a simple touch.

“yeah I know but, what does that mean for us? Like are we gonna be roommates with a fucking baby? is our baby gonna grow up with two parents who live together and just aren’t together but they act like they are because they’re good at being troubled together? Like that’s no way to raise a baby Chris” my voice cracked.

“well, negative Nancy,” he laughed out “I was just thinking maybe if you are pregnant we could have 9 months to figure out shit within ourselves and make us, BETTER. Mom used to always tell us that if we wanted to make something work if one way didn’t work out the way we wanted, we tried something new, our last relationship didn’t work, so what if we changed something about it? but only if you're open to that” he says calmly. One thing I’ve always loved about Chris is that no matter how negative the situation was he was always the one who could turn a dark situation into something positive and always see the light in the end.

“Can we?” I look up at his blue eyes with a slight smile and small tears in my eyes.

“absolutely” he smiled back.

I sighed leaning my body weight against his “Would it be a bad thing if I was disappointed if the test is negative?”

“it’d be cool as shit to have a baby, I mean everyone we know has babies, well almost. Tara is Tara so she’s like our only friend who doesn’t as of right now, plus this is something we’ve always talked about” he smiled rubbing my shoulder with his hand.

The silence in the room wasn’t deafening, but it was comfort and warmth. I’ve always felt safe with him. I couldn’t imagine being in this situation with anyone else but him. I mean we’ve had baby names picked out since we first started dating. It’s something we both knew we wanted. MaryLou always wanted us to have babies, Nick and Matt just told us they didn’t want to be uncles at like 19, but they both would be happy regardless. I know Nick would wanna spoil the shit out of their niece or nephew.

“should we check?” chris breaks the silence.

I sigh very nervous but ready to face whatever it may be, “fuck it, let’s check” We both stood up, and he held my hand as I lifted the test and turned it towards us.

Pregnant

“oh shit,” my jaw dropped.

“oh…my…god” a small smile creeped through his lips. “Y/N?” he asked as my jaw was still on the floor with the test in my hand.

“I-I-I’m- I mean we- are, pregnant..” I stuttered dropping the test.

Chris saw this as an opportunity wrapped his arms around my waist gently, and hugged me. “you’re gonna be the best mother in the world, I know it, and I’ve always known that” he whispered.

my eyes watered as I wrapped my arms around his neck listening to his words. “you’re gonna be a dad” I laughed through my tears of joy.

“wait” he pulled away “does that mean you can’t call me daddy anymore? I mean I know you only do it when you’re super fucked up and drunk but like, I kinda enjoy it” It smiles slightly.

“chris!” I slap his arm softly.

“too soon?” he chuckled softly.

he grabbed me again carrying me gently to his bed and laying me down before plopping on the bed laying between my legs, holding my belly kissing it, and softly speaking “Can this thing hear me yet?” he looked up at me through his lashes.

“no I don’t think so, and that ‘thing’ is a baby Chris” I laughed softly.

“you know what I meant” he laughed before kissing my belly again and lying next to me.

“so when do we tell everyone? Like what do you wanna tell them? Like are we gonna make a cute box for everyone? Or like what? I have ideas on Pinterest and everything” I smiled softly looking over at him with his gaze focused on my stomach.

“Why don’t we worry about that a little later, as of right now, let’s keep this between us until we can get you to the doctor and get those cute black and white pictures of the little bean then we can decide” he kissed my forehead and leaned back patting his chest, signaling me to lay down on his chest, of course I obeyed and laid my head down on his chest as he wrapped his arm around my waist rubbing up and down on my waist.

Over the last couple of months, we’ve officially been broken up. My mind has been a mess, but for the first time, it felt calm and easy. I finally experienced a sense of quiet and peace in the world. It was just Chris, our little bean, and me. No one else knew, but it was perfect.

A/N pt 2: AHHHH CALL THE CHIROPRACTOR CAUSE IM BACK BITCHES!!! i hope yall enjoyed this fr fr, i love yall so much :)

[tanoraqui]

the great thing about a Malevolent post-canon where Faroe is alive again is that there is no way Arthur “Mansplain Manipulate Murder” Lester is going to tell her that he let her die by parental criminal negligence. As far as Faroe, age 3, knows, she got very sick and they moved so she’d get better, which is why everyone and everyplace is different now (moved) and she doesn’t remember it changing (was sick). Her nearly nightly horrendous nightmares [being dead is not pleasant] are also from being sick.

By the time Faroe is 9 or so, she’s guessed that she probably wasn’t normal sick. Maybe she wasn’t “sick” at all—maybe she was kidnapped! Her dad catches bad guys who kidnap people, sometimes. Most importantly, it almost certainly had to do with Secret Horrible Monsters, like John except of course John isn’t a monster, he’s a person who happens to not have a body. Faroe’s pretty smart; she knows without being told that it’s all tangled together: her sickness and her nightmares (which definitely still happen, though less often—the human brain is amazingly adaptable) and them leaving Arkham and John joining her dad in their body and detective agency.

(For the nightmares: Faroe spends most nights sleeping in the same bed as her dad, either curled up tight against his side or literally on top of him. This way, if she’s half-asleep and terrified, she feels his warmth and his arms around her and knows that she’s here and not anywhere Else—and Arthur can fall asleep knowing that she’s here, breathing and warm. And if she wakes up all the way, he can murmur poetry or sing lullabies until she falls asleep again, grounding and comforting…or John can, even while Arthur is asleep, because Faroe came back just a little hit wrong can hear him just like she can hear a normal human. Faroe and John are swiftly in a cahoots to let Arthur sleep when they can, so he’s somewhat well-rested and doesn’t worry quite so much about Faroe.)

Of course, at some point in her tweens, Faroe’s life get endangered, probably because she tries to jump into one of Arthur’s PI cases and that’s just…not a safe place for anyone…and they have a fight that culminates in Arthur shouting something like, “Because I can’t lose you again, Faroe! I let you die once, and I can’t—”

But Faroe has already concluded that her “sickness” was because of Mysterious and Terrible Eldritch Things, and she knows—firsthand, right now!—that those are potentially lethally dangerous. So she immediately leaps to “Dad failed to save my life from Terrible Monsters in the course of his & John’s first adventure; maybe that’s what started it.” And Arthur…does not correct her. Because that’s an infinitely more heroic sequence of events, and he’s a coward. John also doesn’t correct her, because he’s long-since agreed to let Arthur handle this question on his own.

The King in Yellow himself eventually tells her, when she’s 18 or so and already fighting with her father for, well, mostly reasons of being an 18-year-old woman in the 1950s. As previously mentioned, this goes badly for literally everyone involved, though for a while in the middle the King is having a great time.

[transgender-gamer-girl]

TW// hatefucking, CNC, abuse, trauma, previous relationship, dacryphilia

(Loosely based off of real life events)

Been daydreaming a lot about hate fucking one of my exes. Her and I never got along, but sometimes all you want is hurt somebody very badly with your girldick. I really like the thought of her taunting me with hateful and nasty voicemails and texts, threatening to hurt me worse if I ever see her again. Ohhhh mannn~

I want to come over to her house, slap her in her cute face when I see her again, and tell her how horny I’ve been. I know she missed me and I know she really misses our sex. She’s such a little bitch, so I know she’d try to overpower me like he once did, but I’ve come back a lot bigger and a lot stronger. Her efforts are useless, although she does push me onto the ground, forcing herself on top of me, spit in my face, and aggressively feeling up on my (now large) breasts while kissing me.

I push her off of me, pick her up by her neck, and throw her onto her bed. She’s absolutely pissed off, but I know she likes being manhandled. Without question, I rip her shirt off and show her that she’s under my control.

“Fuck you, asshole!” She yammers. Although the heat of her rage could be felt from miles away, she was also in heat. She was always so bad at lying and loved to gaslight, so I decided to give her what she wanted.

“This is payback, bitch” I say with a mixture of sexual desire and animosity. I continue to slap her in her face while degrading her and groping her breasts. “You wanna play with my emotions? Then let’s play.”

She aggressively rips off my shirt and we both pause for a moment, staring at one another. The love we once shared is long gone but the fire in our loins sparked anew. “You’re such a fucking loser.”

I pin her wrists down and rub my breasts on hers, making sure to dry hump her cunt extra slowly and sensually. I could already tell she was feeling herself submit to me involuntarily, but before I could take her down, she pushed me off of her, got lower, took off my pants, and ripped off my panties, revealing my rock hard cock. She became speechless.

While she was too occupied with how much my girldick had grown, I forced it down her throat. “Suck it bitch.” She foolishly refuses, which made me grab her by her hair and force my cock deeply into her mouth. She began to choke as I forced her to swallow it. I let out a pleasured moan, and this made her livid.

She pushed me off of her onto my back, and used the rest of her strength to take off her clothes and force her cunt on my girldick. She thrusted vigorously, getting off to the fact that she could use me again for her own pleasures.

“Just take it, slut. You know you can’t resist me.” she says as my gock impales her soaking wet pussy. Both of our anger dissolves into ecstasy as we spend more time ruining one another.

She then decides to slap me in my face and leave a dark hickey on my neck. As she does this, I grip onto her hips and force her to bounce on my girthy dick. She whines, but continues to bite me more. Her nails dig into my back as I pound her with all the force in my body. “You know what you did, and you know what I have to do to you now. I’m not stopping.”

“I’m sorry baby” she constantly repeats as she whimpers in my ear, finally submitting. She then cums hard on my cock as I thrust faster and faster, overstimulating her quickly.

“Baby stop I’m sorry! I can’t take you anymore. Please!” I ignore her pathetic cries and continue to thrust deeper and harder. “You know how your crying gets me hard. Keep going slut. I’ll stop when I’m done.”

As I continue to rape her senselessly, she scratches more and more. She slaps me in my face, and tries to push me off of her with her hands, but it’s no use.

I put her legs over my shoulders, pick her up by her hips, and look into her eyes as I continue to pound her pussy into a pulp. “How does it feel to be used and abused, bitch? You like it?”

She goes silent and stops resisting. All she can do is whimper and keep eye contact. She soon realizes that nobody can satisfy her like I did.

“I’m your dumb little girl, mommy. Please teach me a lesson.” She says submissively, her breath shaking and her legs trembling as she accepts her fate. I then take my girldick out of her cum-filled cunt, and force it deeply and slowly into her tight ass.

“Yes you are baby. You’re my pathetic little princess. Such a slutty baby for mommy’s cock.” In between every phrase, I slap her in her face and thrust more. Sweat begins to form on both of us, but I don’t stop ruining her for even a second.

For the rest of the night, I use her as a fleshlight. While tears and sweat pour from both of us, I remind her of one last thing. “I’m not afraid to put to put you in your place anymore. You keep sending those voice notes and you know I’ll be over here.” Finally, I cum deeply inside of her womb, filling her up, then I throw her onto the opposite side of my bed. She shivers and moans defeatedly in pleasure, knowing that she needed every second of this.

I put on my clothes and begin to leave, but before I go, I whisper into her ear “next time, I won’t go easy on you. I better not catch you in my neighborhood.”

Toxic yuri my beloved

[bambisturns]

Sbsf!chris x reader first time.

Beach vacation

Warning: contains smut (a little bit bc its my first time n im shy 🙈), pnv (unprotected dont do this stay safe yall! Reader is also on pill!), name calling (i think just slut tbh) idk lmk what i forgot lol

It was like a ritual at this point, every summer before the new school year your families joined together into going to the beach house in Key West. Both your parents and the triplets parents putting so much money onto buying something that you guys could have and maybe eventually take your own kids one day.

Since it was your last summer with your parents before heading off to college to join your sister and the triplets, everyone was there. Even chris who last year skipped out because it was quote in quote “getting lame”. Today was like any other day. Waking up at 9am and spending most of the day out on the beach, but it was the last day and you were sexually frustrated and sun drained.

You felt awful you knew your parents wanted to have a group dinner together but you havent had alone time in 2 weeks. The frustration building up over time, so while everyone is getting dressed, your still in bed. Your mom knocks on the door “honey, can i come in?” She asks “yea come in.” You say while staring at the ceiling “hey… why arent you dressed?” She asks in a soft manner. Thats the thing with your mom she was so soft spoken it almost made you feel more guilty for the lie you were about to tell.

“Yea im sorry mom, i know how important this dinner was for everyone but im so tired i dont feel good i think im running a fever and i dont want to get anyone sick” you say giving her puppy eyes. “Oh sweetie why didnt you tell us sooner? Let me go let everyone know you wont be joining us. Get some rest okay. And dont forget to finish packing we leave in the morning. I love you.” She says while tucking your blankets around you more and walking out of the room. You let out a sigh of relief.

Its been about 45 minutes since everyone left and you had just got done having the best orgasm of your life. Thank god you were smart enough to pack your rose toy. You get out of bed only wearing a oversized white tee that barely covers your skimpy lacy panties, walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, closing the fridge door you turn around see Chris sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone chocking on your water you stare at him with wide eyes “how.. how long have you been here?” You ask feet glued to the floor in fear of his answer.

“Long enough. Don't sound sick to me kid” he says looking over at you eyes trailing down your legs. You tug at the bottom of your shirt moving to stand behind the island counter. “You… fuck, you didnt like hear anything did you?” You ask him again this time avoiding his eyes as he stands up from the couch slowly making his way towards you. “Hear what? You moaning and whimpering like a lil’ bitch? Didn't think you had it in you kid” he says standing across from you. Your cheeks now dusted a rosey color as you lean forward and place your head down in your hands in embarrassment.

“This is so fucking embarrassing” you say still loking down. There is a silence and you hear chris moving. Looking up you see hes beside you “s’not embarrassing kid, s’human nature.” He says looking down at you. ‘God he looks so good’ you thought to yourself. “Pretty embarrassing not gonna lie. Didn't think anyone was home.” You say taking a sip out of your water. “Could tell. You were pretty loud. You know if you fantasize bout me kid least you could do is say sum bout it”

You dont know you got here bent over the island getting your back blown out your mind is completely blank. Chris fucking you from behind has you seeing stars. “Ahh fu-fuck, right there!” You moan out. Trying to find something, anything to grab onto resulting in to you gripping the edge of the counter. “Yea, y’like that? Fucking slut, fantasizin’ bout your sisters best friend?” He grunts out thrusts getting faster. Chris grabs a fist full of your hair yanking you up, back meeting his chest.

“Fu-fuck Chris! Dont st- stop” you ramble on. This is better than any toy any other guy youve ever been with. “Yea? Got you goin dumb on my dick huh slut?” He asks picking up his pace “mmm I-“ you cant even form sentences anymore. Because hes right. Hes literally fucking you stupid. “Shit shit Chris gon- gonna cum!” You sqeak out as he ruthlessly hits your g spot over and over. “Go ‘head cum for me baby” he says keeping his ruthless pace. The coil in your stomach snaps and you release soaking his cock with your orgasm. Going limp against the counter “fuck gonna fill this pussy up. After this your mine you hear me?” He says wrapping his hand around your throat pulling you back to him again.

“Answer me.” He spits out. “Yes! Yours all yours!” You moan out. His pace starts to stutter. With one last stroke he releases inside you painting your gummy walls white. You both stand there for a while trying to catch your breath as he slowly pulls out earning a little hiss from you. He looks down and sees a mixture of both your releases spilling out of you he scoops it onto his finger pushing it back inside. “You better not get pregnant bro.” He says pulling his fingers back helping you pull your panties up.

“Ha ha how are you gonna say that AFTER fucking me? But i wont. Im on the pill.” You say while rolling your eyes and shaking your head. Walking to your room to put some sleep shorts on. You head back to the living just as everyone walks back in from the dinner “oh y/n sweetie what are you doing up?” Your mom asks setting her purse onto the counter. “Oh i just woke up. I was just seeing if Chris was out here because he messaged me saying you asked him to stay back.” You say looking over at Chris who took his seat back on the couch. “Oh yea I’m sorry sweetie i should have told you.” She says looking at you smiling.

“I hope he was a gentleman and helped you with whatever you needed” Marylou chimed in looking over at Chris with a stern look on her face “Dont worry mom I made sure to help her with whatever she needed” he responds, and while no one is looking he shoots you a little smirk. What a fucking tease.

a/n: first time writing smut (a lil bit) idk how i feel ab this ngl 😭

🏷️: @grace-sturnz , @matts-girlfriend , @courta13 , @r0set0y , @thecrawlys

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

#Eli was the weird kid because of his scar and interests and it’s super sad #but I firmly believe that Demetri was the weird kid because he would talk shit to everyone even if it got him beat #then he met Eli and actually got a personality other then kill on sight #I just think it’d be a great parallel for them #Hawk hated Eli for his quiet shy emotional behavior #which are all aspects Demetri loves about him #Demetri hated his past self because he was violent and crude and hurt a lot of people #but to Eli he was the coolest person alive he loved his feral freak #Eli already had his arc of accepting who he is both old and new #give me Demetri accepting his past and the fact that he’s a bit of a monster #Eli realized after kwons death that he doesn’t want to go back to that angry obsessive version of himself and openly and proudly being nerdy #vs Demetri who’s like this wouldn’t have happen if I just killed (Kreese and silver) #Eli Sam and Daniel all trying to convince Demetri that it’s okay everyone’s safe #Demetri: haha no :) #if he can’t change what he is he’s going to make sure no one else has to become like him #I’m in denial #I know he’s going to get screwed over #but so far sensei wolf and Miguel’s dad are both tied to underground fighting pits #it’d be so cool if they used Demetri as a way to connect the story #baby Demetri spending his whole life training for death matches #thinking it’s the only thing he’s good for the only place he’s accepted #but Eli gave him hope that he could be something more that he’s not a monster #then Eli ditched him and broke his arm etc #also I just think the mental image of Eli talking bout their baby years and how cool Demetri was #and everyone including badass Johnny being like no that’s not badass I think he was actually trying to kill someone #Gianni said he used to take Krav Maga and Demetri was going somewhere very dark so fingers crossed

@uncreativity-is-my-skill bestie I've been snooping on your Demetri-related tags on various posts and it sounds like you have the most fantastic fanfiction of all time living in your brain. I am imploring you to share it with the rest of the class 👀👀👀

Okay but hear me out: What if Demetri's Mysteriously Absent Dad was the one pushing him to be a cold, unfeeling, ruthless future MMA fighter type, and Demetri ultimately rejecting that life was the reason his dad left??? Like Mr. Alexopoulos sees all this potential in this violent, feral little kid who seems to hate everyone and whose first reaction to hearing something he thinks is stupid is either telling the person directly (which leaves Little Demetri with no choice but to learn how to handle the scuffle that inevitably follows) or throwing the first punch himself. Bonus points if the Alexopouloses are an immigrant family who aren't particularly financially stable, so anything that has the potential to bring in a little extra cash (like fighting prize money!) is seen as highly valuable.

...and then one day Mr. Alexopoulos's kid comes home with this whiny, bitchy, wimpy scar-faced kid he's befriended at school. And he's obsessed with him. All he wants to do is hang out with this crybaby, and do weak, unmanly shit like constantly hugging and getting touchy-feely and holding this kid's hand and even, god forbid, talk about feelings with him. And Mr. Alexopoulos is horrified. The son well on his way to being a terrifyingly formidable force of nature is now just some gay, pansy-ass, effeminate loser. The only time Demetri ever even gets badass and violent anymore is when he's defending this little bitch kid from all the people who rightfully pick on him. He only wants to fight when he's fighting for the honor of someone who, to Demetri's dad's way of thinking, deserves it less than anyone else in the world. So Mr. Alexopoulos, unspeakably ashamed of his son (and of his wife, too, for allowing this bullshit to happen at all--she should have forbade that overemotional lip freak from entering their house on day one), abandons his family and severs all possible ties and associations with them.

And the reason Demetri ends up like he is in S1, keeping his head down and avoiding violence? It's because NOT doing that in his childhood fucked him over in a bigger way than he lets on. It wasn't just black eyes and his backpack getting thrown in the trash. Oh no--if he told Miguel how far he REALLY went back when he was more "confident", then Miguel would take it as encouragement to try and reawaken that more assertive side of him. And Demetri refuses to entertain that possibility even a little bit.

I'm imagining one time in elementary school, Demetri took his Eli Protection Scuffles a notch (or thirty) too far. Some kid crossed a line when taunting Eli--maybe was shoving him around and physically hurting him, too. And Demetri just fucking loses it. He beats this kid within an inch of his damn life. Full-on Hawk-and-Brucks-style carnage. Every one of their classmates who witnesses it is fucking traumatized.

Demetri gets suspended. His "good student" status keeps the punishment from being worse (as it reads much more like "oh god that kid needs help" than "oh god that kid is EVIL"), but he's warned that if he so much as lays a finger on one of his classmates ever again, it's going to be expulsion. This freaks Demetri the hell out not because he gives a shit about what any of those lame adults think about him ("They were doing a shit job protecting Eli, so I had to pick up the slack! For fuck's sake!"), but because it means getting separated from Eli. Demetri knows how much it will suck maintaining as close a friendship with someone who goes to a different school, where he won't see Eli every day and will have to put in a lot of extra effort to keep in touch. Not to mention Eli's parents would most likely try to prevent their son from keeping in touch with someone they view as an unstable maniac. They're already leery enough of Demetri as it is, with his track record of running his mouth at inopportune times and not being afraid to lay hands on someone who's pissing him off.

And so Demetri holds back, taking the beatings and accepting the bullying so he never has to worry about losing Eli again. If they have to suffer, at least they're always doing it together. Doesn't matter how bad he wants to strangle Kyler and guys like him--he knows what it leads to when he acts on those urges. They'll try to keep him away from Eli, tell him he's dangerous. Prevent him from being with the one person he loves most in the world. The one person who showed him that not all the world was worth hating and resenting.

How ironic, then, that in the end, it was Demetri re-discovering that anger and aggressiveness and burning drive to protect his loved ones that brought him and Eli back together.

Pspspspspsps come join the dark!Demetri writer squad!!! We would be honored to have you!!!

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

One day

One day I hope people realize that Kitsunami already "broke through his programming" back by issue #56 of Idw Sonic

He had an entire mini arc where he dealt with being without Surge for the first time, and in the real world. He met Sonic and his friends directly, tried to work out what his purpose would be without Surge in his life (gave it a shot trying to devote himself to Sonic, seeing him as the next best thing after Surge). And when it was all said and done, he decided after experiencing more that at Surge's side is where he wanted to be.

As of the recent IDW issues, Kit isn't sticking with Surge "because of programming" and "because he just needs for other characters to friend him and turn him into a better person". He is at her side because he wants to be. He protects her and aids her because he cares about her, not just because he's serving the strongest guy in the room. And he's not interacting with others because he's decided not to give a shit about anyone else other than Surge (because from his pov, even the "good guys" are fake. From his pov, everyone is someone trying to lie and manipulate their way into pulling him and Surge to their side)

Kit already has decided what he wants to do with his life. And he decided it on his own. Not because of anyone else's wants or wishes. That's the whole point of his speech at the end of #56.

He's burying whatever his and Surge's past is and moving forward with his conviction to be with Surge because it's what he wants.

[mars-ipan]

fucking hell i hate being sick so much

[lavellansvh3nan]

Every time Solas leaned in to kiss her, Elliana met it with just as much passion, if not more. Standing on the tips of her toes so she could meet his height, she threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

It was almost clumsy, her kisses, because she was so desperate for that attempt to be near him. She wanted everything that he would give her, almost greedy in the kisses she stole from him when he pulled back to breathe.

She let out an apologetic noise when she realized she had touched his wounds, briefly grounding her back in reality, only for her to dismiss it all again and immediately launch herself into Solas’ arms when he pulled her in for another kiss. Curiously, playfully, she let her tongue brush along his lower lip before kissing him again fully.

“Ir abela, Vhenan.” She said, very gently hovering her fingers over the spot where he’d been burned.

Lips swollen, eyes wild, she chuckled breathlessly as he told her he would have wished for her happiness; even if it was with another.

“My love,” she murmured, leaning back in so their noses touched while she spoke. “there is no one who could ever compare to you. No one else I would ever want,” she insisted, trailing her own fingers slowly down the back of his neck to his shoulders, purposefully avoiding his injuries.

Though, hearing him swear, calling himself an idiot, she threw back her head and laughed. Not at him, but in joy and relief that there was nothing holding either of them back anymore. She giggled more softly and this time, her hands rested against his chest, tracing her fingers over his beating heart.

“Your words, not mine.” She teased, but she shook her head. “I know what your intentions were. But I think you shouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. We can grow old together. It would be a privilege to spend my life by your side.” She insisted, leaning up and nuzzling her nose against his.

“Now,” she playfully began to guide him back towards their camp. “Let us see if there are any materials left to mend your wounds with.” She caught his lips in what was meant to be a quick kiss, only to distract herself. Before she knew it, she was deepening the kiss, fully losing herself in the way he felt, his scent, so familiar and warm…

She pulled back only when she realized it had been a few minutes of her kissing him over and over again, pink tinging her ears and cheeks.

“I…didn’t realize how much better kissing you awake would be.”

She barely had a moment to take in all that she had seen. The overwhelming truth of it all, the sense that she had just witnessed something that might change everything she knew. But within seconds, Windermere and everything around them was gone.

The vibrant and blinding light temporarily disoriented Elliana. The only solid thing that she knew she had was Solas, her hand still locked tightly into his. There was an accompanying sensation of being thrown, though she remained upright and somewhat lucid.

When the brightness faded, she was panting softly, attempting to calm her stuttering heart, but what helped to keep her grounded was the feeling of Solas’ fingers interwoven with her own. It all came crashing down on her then, when she realized they were back in front of the wolf statue.

It had felt like days…maybe even a lifetime that they’d been gone. But somehow, seeing it now, it made her realize they’d been gone only hours.

And more importantly, that all that Solas knew about himself had been confused, even incorrect.

“Solas,” she suddenly said once she felt sturdy enough to process all she’d seen, turning so she could face him fully and taking his face tenderly between her hands. There was so much to process— the fact that he was not Earl’s son, that he seemed to be older than she’d ever considered, and, worse, that he had killed two people.

“Solas,” she whispered his name again, nothing but tenderness and adoration in her tone as she did so. If she was reeling, she knew he must have been..devastated. Lost. Perhaps even a bit unhinged by what he’d seen. “No matter what, it’s going to be okay,” she insisted softly.

@solas-enaste

[pardonmydelays]

taylor swift lyrics that keep u up at night?

*takes a deep breath*

remember looking at this room, we loved it cause of the light now i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.

(oversharing in the tags)

[forgottenvalentina]

Valentina's brow arched and haughtily, she shook her head. "Does the truth perturb you? Do you indeed contest the fact that your father preferred the vision of his late wife to the vision of the future -- his only son?" Her laugh was derisive. "But I suppose you're right," she said after a pause, recalling his will the way she had left it. "In the end -- he did choose rightly. But he did not wish you to wed Cassimir, Eithne. You know that. I know that. Cassimir knows that. It is you who seeks to flaunt his wishes, my dear, not me."

Astonishment showed across her face at Eithne's protestation that she did not wish to be a princess. "Why, a show of humility at this late stage? You do have some power left to surprise me, after all." As Eithne said she'd never understand, Valentina huffed, rolling her eyes heavenward. "That is certainly true."

"Give me Malconaire."

Valentina visibly recoiled, shifting in her seat, bald shock written unconcealed across her face. Then, all at once, she laughed, faced out towards the tiltyard, her laughter floated bright and gregarious. She turned to Eithne, then, looked at her, looked at her in a way she never had before. What was that familiar steel in her blue eyes, the pensive draw of her lips, even the set of her fingers as she gazed back. Eithne wasn't Sorcha's, not really, not in this moment, Valentina thought. This Eithne had a different mother.

"Oh, my dear, I have done you some disservice, haven't I?" She tilted her head. "At last, I see you, Eithne. At last I see. You're my truest daughter, aren't you? Not Sonya -- you. You're me, younger, Astairan, prettier, perhaps, but me. My darling girl, I've been playing this game so much longer. Don't you see? Though I respect your drive, it doesn't do to jump to the finish line. You've shown your cards, now."

Yet, her expression soured at Eithne's final line. "Destroy it? Malconaire is my home as well! All else has been stolen from me." She pressed her eyes closed for a moment, visions of her old life, of Alytar floating before her in vividest color.

Shaking herself, she turned to look towards the tiltyard, exhaled hotly. Her dear boy's face rose before her vision, she saw him once more crashed to earth. "You ask me to betray my son. Do not pretend you are in the right, here, Eithne. It is his birthright you wish to steal, title or no." Her gaze raked Eithne's frame. "Alone and unwed, yes. If I consider this, under no circumstances must you ever produce any heirs. Your sisters must follow suit," she added. "You may all spend the rest of your lives happily at Malconaire, but no more. This will be the end of your line. I will suffer no further rival claimaints, you understand me?" She paused, arched a brow, looking ahead, not quite daring to look at Eithne, now. "And what would you have of me? Silence, I suppose. Utter silence."

Valentina paused, arching a high brow. "What will you do, girl, when I am dead and Cassimir is wed, with heirs of his own body all clammering to claim Malconaire as is their right, hm? I won't have you undercutting my grandchildren simply because I am not there to defend them from your...whiles."

Heartbreaker | Valentina & Eithne

"Well," huffed Valentina. "We see now just how much luck your favor brings, don't we?"

This was, to Valentina's mind, a most humiliating defeat. Day one, and round one had just finished with Arthur casting Cassimir from his horse. And Valentina had chosen to blame Eithne.

"That was deeply satisfying for you to watch, I suppose? You must think much of yourself, mustn't you? A noble and gallant lord and a prince tilting for you?"

Still seated in the stands, she placed her hand over Eithne's, preventing her from leaving, and smiled sourly at her. Most had cleared out, meeting the porter at the center to purchase refreshments or speak with the competitors in their tents during the brief moment interlude between rounds, leaving stepmother and stepdaughter alone for a single venomous moment.

"It all comes so easily to you, doesn't it, Eithne? You smile towards any young man and he falls at your feet. You wish to rule a county and you're simply...born to it. You want a doting father to protect you above and beyond any sense and he simply...does...preferring you to anyone and anything and..." she pursed her lips, blinking away the way her eyes ached at the thought. She pressed on boldly, however, hoping Eithne would not notice.

"You wish for a powerful husband and two drop out of the heavens to kiss your hand. Have you ever had to work for anything?" Valentina shook her head, to show she did not believe she had -- apparently forgetting who had prepared her breakfast that very morning. Leaning her head on her hand as she spoke, her voice was even as she gazed across at Eithne. "You should know -- precious few have any of it so easy as you do. Cassimir shelters you, now, but if you betray him...what will become of you, Eithne?"

Wetting her lips, Valentina turned her gaze towards the temporarily empty tournament field. "Eithne," she said, voice turning oddly sweet. "I could offer you so much. A husband to eclipse even my dear Cassimir. You watched your other suitor hurl him into the dirt, today. I know ou gave him up because you thought it all a hopeless affair, but...What if I could get you a prince for a husband? Oh, I won't promise Arthur, but...Sebastian, for example? If I could make you a princess, Eithne, would you release my boy? Cassimir fancies he loves you, truly, but doesn't he deserve a wife who loves him?"