#beware. she is fucked up <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tojisbbg]

gang baby

❝she told you she celibate, but she told me i can nail her shit!❞

♡ sylus, caleb, rafayel, zayne, xavier ♡

sypnosis: you're just a girl. yeah, you can't decide between five hot LI's presented to you in the popular otome game, love and deepspace, but that's okay. who said you can't have them all? literally.

wc: 11k (lots of smut beware)

a/n: valentines day special!! guys, don't question it, ok? i wrote this with my whole pussy. ok bai. (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: all lads LI's x fem!reader (yes, you read right), gangbang, slight plot, reader gets transported in lads universe, smut (no details, find out hehe), all acts are consensual, not edited. disclaimer: not based off tomorrow's catch-22!!

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

"fuck!" you yelled out in frustration, chucking your phone off your bed as the poor device fell on the floor with a loud thud. you could hear your best friend giggling from your laptop, making you shoot her a sharp glare.

"shut up." you sneer, but it only fueled her laughter more.

"damn, infold really hates you, bro." she pokes further at your miserable failure, making your shoulders slump in defeat as you grumble.

"i can't believe it. i've been grinding for two months straight to save up fifteen thousand diamonds for the valentines day banner! i was sure i'd pull them all, and you're telling me i only got two out of the five?? this is a fucking joke." you ranted, making your friend hum as she understood your anger.

"yeah, i'd be mad as hell too. but hey, at least you got sylus and caleb. just watch the rest on twitter or something." your best friend tried to comfort you, but it only made you pout.

"but i want them all." you sulked, making her roll her eyes.

"you're such a whore." she sighed, making you grin.

"duh, why choose one when i can have them all." you nonchalantly responded.

"yeah, yeah, forgot you had no shame." she shook her head in disbelief.

"man, i don't know what else to do. i literally milked the game dry, there's no other way i can get more diamonds for more pulls before the event ends. this is so unfair." you whined, fingers tangled in your hair.

"you can always-"

"no. i'm not giving those greedy hoes my money." you cut off her suggestion, your tone stern.

you were a poor college student who worked part-time at a stationery supply store (living the aesthetic life while crying over classes and fictional men); money's tight, and you're not about to spend hundreds on this because you know it'd become a horrible habit sooner or later.

despite being broke, your spending habits were outrageous.

"yeah girl, then i don't know what to tell ya. i'm chilling with my rafayel card. oh shit, it's almost three in the morning, bitch. we have class tomorrow, go to sleep." she yawned tiredly.

"you're leaving me just like that? after i went through so much pain and trauma? is this how deep our ten years of friendship runs? just say you hate me and want me to die a slow painful death." you dramatically rambled, making your best friend rub her temple in faux annoyance as she groaned at your stupidity.

"when i see you tomorrow, i'm gonna slap you. goodnight, hoe." with that, she hung up.

you closed the lid of your laptop and placed it on charge, stretching before standing up to go pick up your phone. you noticed the small cracks on your screen as you walked back to your bed.

you unlocked your phone, noticing how the lads server kicked you out. you exited the app, clicking on it again as you were met with caleb's face.

so l-long for longe-ge-... before fa-fa...dust

so long for-for-.... fading-fa..-dus..

so-so...lo...ng-..fading...

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the app glitch horribly, the audio was choppy and produced crackling noises. the graphics were disoriented and there was a pop-up notification saying you needed to upgrade your memory.

you could feel your irritation rise once again, getting tired of this shit as you decided to deal with it tomorrow or something. however, every time you tried to exit the app, it wouldn't let you.

your phone literally froze.

"great. just fucking great." you sarcastically murmured.

not only did you not get the limited cards you wanted, you were broke (in the real world and in lads), you're screwed for your morning classes and your phone is currently on its last breath.

also, you were hungry as fuck right now, craving for some five guys.

"fuck this." you sighed in defeat, settling your phone next to you before laying down to sleep. you figured that eventually your phone would turn off once the battery died, so until then you just turned to the other side and ignored the device.

soon enough, fatigue took over your body as you were slipping away into a deep slumber.

unaware, your phone screen turned off momentarily, before flickering on once again as the screen crackled and glitched before stopping.

data retrieval complete, memory upgrade...

successful.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you stirred in your sleep, eyebrows pinched together as you felt a cold breeze run across the bare skin of your thighs and arms.

nonetheless, you don't remember leaving your window open, it was the middle of february. you groaned, eyes still shut tight as your hand reached down, trying to locate your blanket.

"comfortable, sweetie?" you heard an oddly familiar, deep voice suddenly speak.

did someone break into your house? and why the hell did your mattress feel so hard and cold?

your eyes shot open, adjusting your blurry vision as you realized you were not in your bedroom. you were laying on the cold, dirt ground and it made you panic.

you helplessly sat up and noticed the long pair of legs in front of your body, making you look up as you saw the towering figure of a man. the night sky was dark, making it hard for you to make out his face.

"who are you? and what the hell am i doing out here?" you asked, but your voice barely came out as a whisper.

a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, before he bent down to come eye-level with you. as soon as you met the bright, ruby red orbs of his foxy eyes; your jaw dropped in horror.

no. fucking. way.

"shouldn't i be the one asking you those questions, sweetie?" sylus smirked, head tilting as he keenly watched your facial expressions.

"you're not real. i'm dreaming, yeah, just a dream that feels too real." you blurt out, a breathy laugh scratching your dry throat, trying to calm yourself from freaking out as your heart leaped to your chest when he directly looked at you.

"a dream, you say? hmph, you're a strange one." he shook his head before grabbing your wrist, bringing your palm to his lips. the warmth of his rough hands, which were definitely double the size of yours, made you shiver due to the contrast of your cold ones. he bit the side of your palm before gently sucking on it, making you jolt from the sudden sensation.

sylus watched you with pure amusement glinting in his eyes.

"you're like a scared little kitten, so expressive." sylus commented, making you swallow harshly.

well, this definitely was not a dream, thanks to sylus's help for that confirmation.

but the question was.... how the hell did you end up here?

suddenly, there was rustling in the distance, making his eyes twitch as he became alert. sylus slightly shifted closer to you, now scanning the area for the intruder.

"miss bodyguard?" with a dramatic gasp, you heard rushed footsteps approach you. it was hard to miss the hues of indigo, pinks and blues in his eyes along with the striking dusky purple hair that was a little more visible thanks to the moonlight.

"r...rafayel?" it felt odd saying his name out loud, it almost made you feel a little schizophrenic.

just a bit.

"duh, who else would it be? what are you doing here in the N-109 zone at this hour. also, the hell are you wearing? so not creative or fashionable." rafayel questioned, of course, not forgetting to throw in his snarky little insults along with it.

"what's wrong with what i'm wearing?" you glared at him.

"it's the middle of february and you're dressed like it's a hundred degrees outside." the lemurian smirked down at you.

you cursed at yourself for going to bed in shorts and a thin shirt. well, to be fair, it's a cute snoopy set. also, who in the hell could've predicted this to happen!?

"she wanted to have a little sleepover with the wanderers that lurk around here." the dragon teased, making your face heat up.

"i did not." you mumbled under your breath.

"uh-huh, you're not really in the position to defend that claim." rafayel egged further.

"whatever, what are you doing here? you usually don't go out of your way to come to the N-109 zone." you tried to change the subject, remembering from his anecdotes that he usually has third party people as his "networks" to gain intel.

"just some business you shouldn't sweat your pretty little head over, cutie. but, you know, we should really talk about what your business is with the leader of onychinus." he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes flickering between you and sylus.

"it's nothing, uh, i don't even know him." you chuckled nervously, making sylus look at you with a sharp look.

"is that so, kitten? you wound me. and here i thought we had something more than just... acquaintances. i guess those nights of naughty touches, kisses and naked glances mean nothing to you, right?" sylus shamelessly bullet-pointed, his tone dropping an octave lower as your cheeks grew warm.

on the other hand, rafayel's eyes widened at the revelation.

"you fucked the leader of onychinus?! woah, woah, woah, pause. what about everything that happened between us?? we had sex in my bathtub, the hotel and don't forget-" he was flabbergasted, only to be cut off by sylus.

"you were messing around with this half-baked fish, sweetie? i'm disappointed in your taste. if you planned on two-timing, you could've selected a better opponent for me. this is just... offensive." he snarked, his red eyes beaming with irritation as he looked at rafayel, who's face grew dark from his brash words.

"what did you say to me, you fucking crow? half-baked fish? i'm the god of tides, a majestic lemurian. you dare to speak to me like that?" rafayel's voice became husky, languid footsteps towards the other man.

"h-hey, hey, let's all calm down. there's a very logical and reasonable explanation, i swear." you tried to mediate between them, but it didn't seem like they planned on giving a flying shit about what you had to say any time soon.

"y/n? there you are. i've been blowin' up your phone for hours. thought a wanderer got to you and i got worried about how i'd pay the rent by myself." xavier walked from the shadows, his words laced with a gentle joke as he approached you and the other two men.

holy fuck, this was not good.

"and who are you guys?" the ash-blonde male asked, eyes narrowing before looking down at you.

"xavier." you meeked, not even knowing what to say anymore.

"why are you seeing other guys, y/n? am i not enough? you know i don't like it when you hide things from me. i thought you learned your lesson after i punished you for choosing lumiere over me." xavier now towered over you, his voice laced with envy as you gulped.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

"xavier, i promise i can explain. this is all just a-" you tried to somehow pull an excuse out of your ass, but your brain was fogging up.

"pipsqueak?"

"y/n? what an odd place to be at during such an odd hour, you left your patient copy in my office."

two other figures emerged from the sides, making your eyes close in disbelief, wishing that you could somehow disappear from the face of earth right now.

why the fuck are they all here.

at the same time.

"you've got to be kidding me." you covered your face with the palm of your hands.

"caleb? i thought you were dead." zayne spoke in a monotone, glancing at his childhood friend.

"wow, i missed you too, zayne." caleb rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. however, the small spark of tension barely lasted before caleb looked back at you.

"care to explain why you're in such a dangerous zone at this time? you know you can't hide from me, pipsqueak. what connections do you have here? who are you seeing? was locking you up in the attic not enough for you?" caleb lectured, his voice gruff before zayne decided to add on to the fire.

"you're utterly reckless, your heart condition isn't getting any better." zayned pushed the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

all five on them now circled you, bickering and arguing with each other along with bombarding you with questions. you balled your fists in annoyance and frustration.

"shut up! oh my fucking god, i don't know, okay?! i don't know how i ended up here, so stop asking me. fuckin' hell, i can't even get a moment to breathe or think because all of you little shits won't shut up for a second!" you snapped as you stood up, making all of them look at you with surprised eyes.

you gulped, feeling a little cornered as you have five insanely tall, broad and buff men look down at you; like helpless prey.

caleb was the first person to break the momentary silence, grabbing your arm to pull you towards him.

"let's go home, pipsqueak. i'll cook your favorite tonight since it's valentines day." he smiled, only for your other arm to be tugged backwards as you yelped.

"home? her home is with me, we're roommates. i think you got the wrong person." xavier calmly replied, but his words were laced with venom.

"she's going nowhere with either of you. she's my bodyguard and i need her to come back with me to my studio. y'know, in case some scary wanderers are lurkin' around." rafayel pushed xavier to the side, intertwining his fingers with yours before giving you a charming smile as he attempted to walk off; only to bump into someone.

"i don't think so. she's been out here for so long, i might need to give her an exam to make sure she's okay." zayne cleared his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

you felt like you were the rope being tugged in tug-of-war. sylus deeply sighed at the situation and before you knew it; in one smooth swoop you were now in the strong arms of the leader of onychinus.

"what fools. she's in the N-109 zone for a reason. for me, of course. come on, sweetie, you must be freezing. let's go inside." sylus look down at you with a gentle smile playing on his lips.

you groaned, squirming out of his hold as sylus let you, watching you get back on your feet.

"this is ridiculous! you all are acting like a bunch of kids, fighting over me like i'm some kind of toy. none of you own me!" you stood your ground.

"fine, then why don't you choose?" sylus scoffed, crossing his arms. you grew quiet, looking at each of them before averting your gaze to the ground.

"i... i can't." you whispered.

"you can't? or you don't want to?" xavier snickered.

"you're the one who's been toying with us. we deserve an explanation, no?" rafayel grinned.

"explanations are too time-consuming, actions speak louder than words. so, how are you gonna fix it, y/n?" hazel eyes peered at you with intensity through the glass lenses.

oh, you're so fucked.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

everything happened so fast, you didn't know who swiped your panties off or unclasped your bra.

you felt betrayed at how they evilly plotted against you, telepathically agreeing to punish you for your unfaithfulness. what happened to hating each other? so, here you were now, splayed on the soft mattress in sylus's room; like art on a display.

they drank in the sight of you, perky tits spilled out as the smooth glaze of your skin glimmered under the dim lighting of the room. their eyes were full of hunger, eye-fucking you as you grew shy under their intense gazes.

"s-stop staring at me like that." you whined, looking away as your face reddened at the attention.

you felt someone stroking your thighs, making you shudder as you looked in front of you, seeing caleb gripping the supple fat of your plush thighs.

"never knew you were such a dirty little slut, princess. all these years of knowing you... and to think you were capable of this? how naughty." caleb smirked, prying your thighs open as you gasped.

but, your lips would soon be sealed with zaynes as he kissed you roughly. his pillow-soft lips molded with yours, the smacking sound of saliva filled the room. a big, veiny hand came up to cup your cheek gently as he slid his tongue inside your mouth, licking the wet muscle before sucking it.

caleb used his thumb to spread your soaked folds apart, watching the lewd string of your arousal connect them both. your clit was puffy from being neglected, a sheen of wetness covering your cunt; making his mouth salivate. he leaned down, mouth hovering above your pussy.

"fuckin' beautiful." caleb swore under his breath, the warm air fanning above your aching cunt, giving you goosebumps. you moaned into zayne's mouth, feeling caleb's warm and wet tongue lick a fat stripe up your cunt.

"hope you didn't forget about us, cutie." rafayel pouted, licking at your nipple before wrapping his lips on the swollen pebble. sylus soon followed his footsteps, greedily kneading at your other tit before leaning down and pressing open-mouthed kisses on the soft mound.

meanwhile, xavier's lips were buried in your neck as he punished you with licks and bites on the expanse of your unmarked flesh.

"ngh~ xavier!" you whimpered against zayne's lips, the doctor now nibbling on your bottom lip.

he licked the side of your neck before softly clamping his teeth down, suckling and leaving a purplish bruise. as a soothing apology, xavier kitten-licked the fresh mark before moving down to your collarbone with wet kisses.

caleb continued to lap at your wet cunt, his saliva mixed with your juices dripped down his chin. the tip of his tongue circled your clit before suckling on it, making your legs tremble as a moan ripped out of your throat as you tried to close your legs.

"f-fuck.. hnghh.." you cried out, feeling him plant his palms on your inner thighs, forcing you to keep them open. caleb peered up at you from between your thighs, amethyst eyes glaring at you as his lips were glossy.

"don't interrupt me when i'm eating." he huskily spoke before slapping your dripping pussy, producing a wet 'pap!' noise. you yelped because of your increased sensitivity, not having enough time to recover before he dove back in.

with one last wet smooch, zayne released your lips before crawling down right next to his childhood friend. they exchanged a quick look, a mischievous smirk dancing on the colonel's lips.

"oh? was my tongue not enough for you, princess?" he lowly spoke, pinching your inner thigh as you bit your bottom lips.

"ahh... need z-zayne to help... please?" you begged, making him scoff. zayne couldn't help but grin with pride, your words stroking his ego a little.

"you heard her, move." zayne pushed caleb a little to squeeze himself between your legs, taking off his glasses before throwing them to the side. caleb, utterly betrayed, seethed with jealousy.

"so that's how you wanna play? fine." caleb accepted it as a challenge, but of course, he won't let neither of you get the last word.

zayne ignored his little childish outburst, digging in as his scarred hands rested on your lower stomach before his fingers stroked the expanse of it, gently moving to the side to hold your hips; caressing your smooth skin while tracing the faint stretch marks decorating it.

your puffy clit peaked out of your wet slit, making zayne lean down to press a wet smooch on it. you shuddered, mouth gaping open as your breathing quickened. zayne dragged his tongue up your sopping folds slow and languidly, the tip of his tongue digging into your wet pussy. the difference in how zayne and caleb ate you out was clear. caleb liked to eat your honeyed cunt like a starved dog, as if it was his last meal; unlike zayne, who liked to take his time and savor the taste of your sweet cunt.

"mhmmm.... zaynee~" you slurred his name, drunk in pleasure as he took his time to lap at your pussy, suckling and nibbling on your clit. amethyst eyes bore into the back of zayne's head, fuming with anger and envy.

caleb's fingers dug into your thighs, making you wince in pain but soon it deliciously simmered into the pleasure you were getting from zayne's tongue. the colonel snickered, watching how slick your pussy was from saliva and your juices, deciding to toy with you as revenge.

you felt the pads of caleb's middle and ring finger brush against your hole, probing the tight opening. you groan, feeling him push in both fingers at once.

"c-caleb!" you stuttered out, feeling him scissor his fingers in and out of your tight hole; the thickness and length of his digits rubbing you in all the right places.

suddenly, xavier roughly grabbed your jaw, squishing your chubby cheeks in his hands; forcing you to look at him. the expression on his face was dark, eyes clouded with lust and possessiveness.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself, dirty girl. you like having four other guys touch you, hm? this mouth is fucking filthy, maybe i should clean it, yeah?" he smirked, blue eyes sharply peering down at you.

"x-xav.." you were cut off by his grip tightening just a little more, making you wince.

"shhh... not another word, my dumb little girl. now i just wanna hear you gagging on my cock, 'kay?" xavier unbuckled his belt before unzipping his pants. he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, making his hard cock spring against his abs, your eyes widening at the sight.

his dick didn't have a lot of girth, but fuck it was long. xavier tapped the blush pink tip of his leaky cock on your lips, spreading his precum all over them like it was your own personal gloss. his thumb rested on your chin before pulling it down, forcing your mouth to open as he slid his cock in; the ash-blonde male let out a shaky sigh.

both sylus and rafayel continued to paw at your tits, biting and sucking on your nipples. with a lewd 'pop!', they released your swollen bud, eyeing their shared masterpiece as your tits were littered with hickies and trails of saliva.

"why don't you return the favor, sweetie? these cute little hands of yours seem empty." sylus gives you a toothy grin, bringing your hand to the tent forming on his pants, making you palm him through them. a deep groan escaped his lips as your hand stroked him through the rough fabric of his leather pants.

rafayel now sat on his knees by your other side, grabbing your wrist before bringing it up to his lips. he kissed the soft, warm flesh of your wrist; inhaling the scent of your skin as he let out a moan.

"you smell so fucking good. god, it's driving me insane." he breathed out, licking your pulse point before gently biting down on it. rafayel continued to sniff and kiss your wrist, using his other free hand to undo his pants and pull his aching cock out; stroking it as it throbbed in his palms. he teased his slit, spreading the sticky precum all over the tip.

your eager hands fumbled with sylus's belt as you tried to undo it, a little difficult because your mouth was still full of xavier's cock and forced you to maintain eye contact with him; as if looking at anyone else in this room would make his existence perish. but, sylus decided to be kind enough and help you because who is he to deny you?

you dug your hand inside his boxers, eyes widening as you realized that you couldn't even fully grasp his dick. he was fucking hung, thick and long, not lacking in any area. a guttural moan escaped his lips, feeling your soft fingers caressing his balls.

you took out his cock from the confinement of his boxers, stroking the shaft of it as your fingers teased the throbbing vein that ran on the underside curve of his dick. sylus threw his head back in pleasure, a soft whimper heard as his chest heaved.

"feels so fuckin' good, sweetie." he praised, your hand still lazily moving up and down his thick meat.

you felt the tip of zayne's nose nudging your clit, providing more stimulation as he continued his assault on your sopping wet cunt; his tongue flicking at a leisurely pace between your folds. caleb matched the rhythm of zayne's tongue, finger-fucking you with deep and hard strokes.

your moans were muffled by xavier's cock as he drove his hips into your mouth; your cheeks hollowing as you tried to not graze the skin of his dick with your teeth. you could hear the soft grunts and whimpers falling from his lips, eyes closed in bliss as he still had your cheeks firmly squished between his fingers.

"fuck yeah... you were made for this, takin' my cock so well." xavier breathed out, slender fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your head closer.

you could feel the pressure of zaynes tongue slurping your clit along with caleb's fingers abusing your cervix collide. the familiar knot began to settle in your lower stomach, making your thighs tremble as your eyes screwed shut, toes curling in pleasure.

caleb could feel your walls contracting, you were definitely close and as much as he would love to see you cream all over his fingers; you've been cruelly unfair to him.

xavier lazily opened his eyes, cerulean orbs looking down at you half-lidded. he scoffed, watching your face flush as saliva trickled down the corner of your mouth. you opened your eyes briefly, he watched as they rolled back from the pleasure you were recieving from your childhood friends.

he pulled his cock out of your mouth, glaring down at you.

"nghhh~ p-please..!" you mumbled against his tip, crying out in pleasure as you tried to kick your leg forward to get away from the two men ravaging your pussy. however, both caleb and zayne pinned your legs down.

"focus on me." xavier scowled, and in one swift and hard thrust, his cock slid down your throat as far as you could take him. your eyes blew wide open, as you gagged on his dick. he was being nice earlier, but now you really pissed him off.

you had the nerve to think about those two when he was being kind enough to rinse that dirty mouth of yours with his cock?

"fuckin' ungrateful brat, ignoring me when i'm stuffing this filthy mouth full of my dick." he panted, fucking your face as tears streamed down your face and drool dripped down your chin.

zayne and caleb continued their combined attack, making you scream as your felt zayne sucking on your clit harder while caleb's fingers continued to rub against your walls at a faster pace.

suddenly, all sensation was lost as caleb pulled out his fingers while simultaneously grabbing onto the back of zayne's head with his free hand; yanking his hair back to unlatch his mouth from your weeping cunt. your eyes widened as tears streamed down your face, your hole pulsating at the feeling of nothing.

"only good girls get to cum." caleb darkly chuckled, zayne wincing in slight pain as he swatted the hand that yanked his hair.

"do that again and i'll fucking kill you." zayne murmured, making caleb roll his eyes.

"mmphh...!" your cries were muffled as xavier continued to use your throat as his personal fuckhole. he continued to shove his dick deeper, a small bulge forming on your throat as he pressed against it.

"there we go." xavier grinned sadistically, continuing to chase his high.

"h-hahhh... fuck, gonna cum." he panted, face flushing as he threw his head back, driving his hips forward. you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you towards his lower stomach; shoving his cock deep in your throat one last time as your nose was buried in his soft pubes.

"shit.. shit- hnghh... take it- fuck, take it all." xavier moaned, his thick cum painting your throat as he came so much. your mouth became overloaded with his cum, leaking through the corner of your lips as you tried to swallow as much as you could. he pulled out, watching your gasp for air as you coughed.

"what do you say, slut?" he darkly asked.

"t-thank you." you breathed out, voice croaking.

"good girl." xavier smiled wickedly, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, your tongue peeking out to lick it.

with the intense throat-fucking session with xavier and the cruel denial of your orgasm, you forgot about sylus who was still painfully hard in your hand.

"come on, sweetie, i know you could do better. want some help? yes, no, maybe so?" sylus whispered huskily, leaning down to bite your ear before kissing your temple.

"s-sorry.." you sniffled, still extremely sensitive.

"poor baby, don't cry. i'll help you." he cooed, grabbing your hand before spitting on it. the warm feeling of his spit made you shiver, he brought your hand to his cock; guiding you as you used your spit coated hand to grab his dick again.

this time, his hand firmly stayed on yours, tightening the grip. the silver haired male moaned, moving your joined hands up and down his throbbing cock; fucking your wet fist.

"hnghh... yeah, f-fuck..." sylus panted, thrusting his hips into the makeshift hole he made using your hand. his foxy eyes narrowed, bright ruby orbs rolling back as he rasped out swears from the absolute pleasure he was feeling.

rafayel hovered above your naked torso, his pretty cock resting on the valley between your tits. he grabbed his dick, giving it a few strokes, whimpering at his own touch before looking down at you.

"you're so beautiful." the lemurian whispered through labored breaths, face flushed as his mixed indigo eyes peeked at you through a half-lidded lust-filled stare.

rafayel swallowed harshly, guiding the tip of his leaky cock to your nipple; circling the hard bud as his precum coated it. your breath hitched, watching him use his hard cock to paint streaks of his precum all over the expanse of your hickey-littered chest.

he then spat on his hand, rubbing his spit all over his dick to lubricate it before settling it between your soft tits. using both of his hands, he squished your tits together to squeeze his warm cock between them. the whimper leaving his mouth was almost embarrassing from how loud and needy it was.

without a second more of hesitation, rafayel began to rut his hips forward, thrusting between your tits. he stroked your nipples before using his thumb and index finger, pinching the swollen buds and rolling them between his fingers.

"ahhh~ rafayel! f-feels good...!" you moaned, watching the blush pink tip of his cock peek through your cleavage every time he motioned his hips forward.

"hnghh... love your tits so much, cutie. so soft... so tasty and cute." he breathes out a small chuckled, eyebrows pinched in pleasure as he continued to thrust his cock between your boobs. his precum coated the valley of your tits, making it easier for him to slide between them.

while he continued his ministrations of using your titties to fuck himself, you focused on making sylus cum. you increased the pace of your hands, feeling his hand tightening the grip on yours, the vein on his cock pulsating as frequent deep whimpers left his lips. your thumb caught his slit, teasing it as he could feel his balls tighten.

"hmm... gonna make me cum, kitten." he groans, continuing to pump his cock using your hand until you felt the warm, thick wads of his cum dribble down your fingers. his hands slightly trembled, chest heaving as he tried to compose himself.

"fuck, that was... so hot." sylus chuckled, releasing your hand as he watched you bring your cum covered fingers to your mouth; licking his release as you hummed in approval.

he could feel himself get instantly hard again from such an erotic sight.

"you're mean, darling." he shook his head, making you grin.

you broke away your gaze from sylus, watching rafayel fall apart as he desperately groped your tits.

"h-hahhh... need y..-your help, cutie! please?" he pathetically begged, swallowing harshly as his hips stuttered. rafayel grabbed your wrist once more, smelling your scent and licking your flesh; groaning at how intoxicated you made him feel. the tip of his tongue traced your fingers before encasing them with his soft lips, sucking and biting on your digits; indigo eyes looking at you with a pleading look.

you smirked, knowing that it'd be easy to tease him. you were basically at all of their mercy, but knowing you still had just a little bit of power against him at least; it made your heart beat in your pussy.

"you poor thing, need my help?" you pouted, faux sympathy written all over your face. the others watched in amusement and rafayel's horny-fucked brain couldn't even have the dignity to feel embarrassed.

"p-please... promise i'll be good, so good." he breathed out and you smiled in satisfaction, sitting up before pushing him back. rafayel now sat on the mattress, hungry eyes watching you sit back on your knees.

you leaned down, squishing his cock between your tits before sliding them up and down. rafayel's eyes screwed shut in pleasure, countless of goans and whimpers slipping out of his tongue; showering you endlessly with praise.

"y-yeah cutie, just like that... nghhh~ gonna make me cum." rafayel shamelessly moaned, mouth gape open as his breathing was uneven. you stuck your tongue out, lapping at his tip before wrapping your lips around it; suckling on it as if it was a lollipop.

you rubbed your tits together on his shaft, using your mouth to suck the rest. your drool trickled down from his swollen tip to the squishy tight slit created by your tits; making his cock slide with ease. the sounds produced was obscene, shlick shlick shlick. rafayel could feel his body tremble in pleasure, stroking your hair as his balls twitched.

"gonna cum! h-hahhh... p-please, cutie!" his lips were swollen from how much he bit them. soon enough, his hot cum was painting your tits, dripping down your nipples as his cock throbbed.

"fuck.." rafayel sighed, stroking your cheek as he glanced at what he did.

mentally clicking a picture to remember for the rest of his life when he fucks his fist to the thought of you.

"better?" you innocently batted your eyelashes, looking up at him with a dazed expression.

"you little minx." his breath hitched as you turned your face to the side, catching his thumb between your lips to give it a small suck before biting it playfully.

"you seem to be enjoying yourself a little too much, brat." you heard a daring voice break the moment, looking up to see a mean caleb glowering down at you.

you swallowed harshly, looking at rafayel for some help, but the cheeky lemurian only grinned at you; eyes twinkling with trouble as he moved away.

"you like being used like this, don't you? have you forgotten who's in control here?" now, xavier came into view as he scoffed, taking in your pitiful state.

"i think it's time that you learn your place." caleb suddenly pushed you towards the ash-blonde haired male, making you gasp as you were now sitting on his waist; hands pressed against his bare chest. you could feel the curve of xavier's hard cock press against your ass, making you unknowingly grind against the throbbing length of it to seek for some friction.

"tch, look at you. you're like a fuckin' bitch in heat." xavier snickers, holding down your hips with a bruising grip, making you wince. you felt the tip of his dick slip between your wet folds, his hands maneuvering your hips to help you glide on him. a breathy whimper leaves your lips, feeling his sticky tip caress your achy clit.

you hear the clinking sound of caleb's belt being undone and in what felt like mere seconds; you could feel his warm body heat radiating behind you. his lips grazed your nape, the tip of his nose gliding on your skin. he left wet kisses all over your neck and shoulder, trailing down the deep passage of your spine; making you arch forwards from your increased sensitivity.

xavier on the other hand fondled your tits, pinching and twisting your nipples. his fingers moved down, brushing against your hips. suddenly, you felt his tip prodding your tight hole, making you gulp.

they were all so fucking big and thick, you were wondering how you'd take them all. god, you couldn't even use process of elimination to figure out who'd be less painful to take in.

however, all that thinking flew straight out of your ears as xavier planted his feet on the mattress; harshly thrusting upwards into you. a croaky moan ripped out of your throat, your head lolling back to caleb's chest as you breathed heavy.

although xavier wasn't that thick, he was long as fuck; he couldn't even bottom out fully inside your cunt. you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. while caleb continued to place bite marks and lick at his work, xavier paid no mind to his counterpart; fucking you at a brutal pace.

"hnghh~ a-aahh... xav! w-wait!" you tried to slow him down, but that only made him go faster. he grabbed your hands which were resting on his lower stomach, pulling you forwards as you fell on his chest; away from caleb's touch.

the colonel scowled at the loss of your skin, glaring at the ash-blonde male in front of him. xavier didn't care, his hand finding purchase to the supple fatty flesh on your ass, spanking you hard as you yelped in pain and pleasure. your eyes squeezed shut, trying to form coherent words.

"you know i hate it when you don't look at me while i'm fucking you. open your eyes, y/n." he tapped your face, forcing you to look down at him. you bit your lips, trying to prevent another moan from flying out of your mouth, feeling xavier's cock rub your wet velvety walls just right.

his tip continued to bruise your cervix, his thrusts were deep and hard as he made sure you felt every inch of him in you. a ring of cream began to form at the base of his shaft, your juices dripping down to coat his heavy balls as you felt your thighs burning.

"hope you didn't forget about me, princess." caleb whispered, hovering behind you as you felt him grope your ass cheek. your eyes widened as you felt him spread them, his index finger gently grazing your other untouched tight hole.

"nghh.. wait, caleb! h-hahhh, never did it there before." you confessed, making him chuckle.

"well then, i'm glad to be your first here. don't worry, i'll make sure you're ready for me." caleb's words did seem genuine but rather because of the fact that he was about to touch you and feel you somewhere no one ever has.

you nodded at his words, too fucked out to even care about anything else. you were more focused on cumming, your cunt puffy and weeping from being neglected the last time your orgasm was denied; thanks to caleb.

so, you definitely didn't wanna get on his bad side again.

caleb spat on his fingers, bring it down to your ass before spreading the sticky spit on your hole. you soon felt his wet digit push through the tight ring of muscle, making you wince in pain as you breathed heavily.

"f-fuck... hurts.." you whined, but it would soon dissipate as xavier continued to drill into your pussy, distracting you from the pain of having caleb's finger in your ass.

it took some time but eventually the colonel was able to finger-fuck your ass with two of his fingers, meanwhile, xavier thrusted up into your leaky pussy that sheathed his throbbing cock. the ash-blonde haired male rubbed your clit to provide some more stimulation, your body trembling once you felt caleb withdrawing his fingers from inside you.

caleb sat on his knees, spreading your ass once more before leaning in, the tip of his tongue dragging from where you and xavier were connected; all the way up to your ass hole.

"ah! caleb!" you cried out, feeling him land a glob of spit on the tight hole before pulling away. caleb grabbed the base of his cock, his tip was a reddish-purple; angrily weeping precum as he stroked himself a few times. you could hear him groan behind you before feeling his wet tip squish against your hole.

"c'mere." caleb commanded, a hand coming down to gently grab your jaw, pulling you back to him. he tilts your head up, making you look into his eyes; leaning down to press his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

that's when you felt the burning stretch of his fat tip pushing past the tight ring of muscle in your ass, a pained cry leaving your lips, only to be muffled as he swallowed it; not letting go of your lips. tears pricked your eyes, feeling him slowly feed his cock into your tight ass, inch by inch.

the kiss with caleb was rough and messy, full of tongue and spit. the wet smacking sound of his lips clashing with yours as he drinks in your moans was so erotic. as his cock was now thrusted deep in your ass, he was kind enough to let you adjust to his size. his hand still firmly grabbing your jaw in place to not break away from the kiss while the other played with your tits.

meanwhile, xavier continued to give you nice slow and soft thrusts in your cunt, paying close attention to stimulate your clit. you were so full of both of their cocks, your mind was blank.

all you thought of was dick, dick, dick.

it was embarrassing and greedy, how full they made you feel, how good the burn felt as they both stretched out your holes.

it was definitely a pornographic sight.

as you grew used to having both of them inside you, caleb was the first to quicken his pace, pistoning his hips into you as his cock began to rub your walls. following in suit, xavier tried to match his rhythm, fucking your cunt with more rigor. your mouth gaped wide open, unable to respond to caleb's kiss anymore as you were too cock drunk.

"a-a..ahh! nghh~ feels so good!" you cried out in pleasure, feeling them both rub against the thin barrier that separated the two. you could feel your lower stomach churn in pleasure, your eyes rolling back as you began to drool from the corner of your mouth.

"what a dumb little slut, fucked your brains out already?" you heard xavier darkly chuckle, pinching your clit as you yelped at the sudden sharp sensation.

"p-please... wanna cum so bad! x..-xav.." your throat was parched as you tried to control your breathing, your lower stomach tightening as you could feel the familiar build-up of your orgasm.

"tch, you're moaning his name when i'm stuffing you full of my dick? where are your manners, pipsqueak?" caleb's tone was gravely, glaring at you with a look that could only make your knees grow weak, his grip on your jaw tightening just a little to remind you he was still here; balls deep in you.

"s-sor.. hgnhh.. sorry! please, c..caleb.." you stammered out, feeling the alternating push and withdraw of their cocks syncing together; turning your brain into mush.

displeased with your switch up, xavier yanked you forwards by your arm, squishing your cheeks together.

"you deceitful vixen, running to him when you don't get what you want? i'm the one taking care of this slutty pussy and you have the nerve to beg him? the fuck is wrong with you." xavier seethed with anger, his hips bucking into yours with more intensity; making you wail out in pleasure.

"i'm sor-" you tried to helplessy apologize again, only to be pulled back by caleb; the start of a tug-of-war as if you were a toy.

"don't fucking apologize to him, princess. you're mine, so when i say that you can cum, then you cum." caleb whispered, making you shiver as you sniffled out a cry.

"please.. fuck, please- i can't! t..too much.." you whimpered, making them both scoff.

"you can take it." both caleb and xavier sneered, making you whine.

"ungrateful brat, wanting us both and now you're saying it's too much?" xavier slapped your clit, making you jolt. you felt caleb bite down on your shoulder, the cold metal of his dog tag pressed against your warm, flushed skin.

you felt them twitch inside you, throbbing thick cocks rubbing against your insides. caleb and xavier continued to slide in and out of you, making your body grow hot.

"fuck, fuck, please! s-so close..!" you breathed out, feeling xavier's thrusts grow sloppy as with one final hard thrust; he emptied his balls inside you. his thick, warm cum filled your cunt as you quivered, his hips still rolling back in you.

your head was spinning, both of their scents were intoxicating. their hands were groping, slapping and stroking every bit of skin exposed to their lustful eyes. both caleb and xavier's thrusts held no mercy, battering your cunt and ass as your thighs felt like jelly. you squealed, feeling your walls tightening as you desperately squirmed, trying to lift yourself off and escape.

"where are you going? don't run away, i'm not done yet." caleb yanked you back to him. caleb's grunts and groans got louder by your ear, his arm wrapping around your stomach to hold you down in place; his cock fully in your ass as he shot fat wads of his sticky cum.

before you could process anything, they sadistically exchanged a cruel smirk, pulling out of you as your holes gushed out an obscene amount of their mixed cum.

"n-no! no! hnghh.. w-why.." you sobbed at the loss of contact, the fullness of their cocks gone as your orgasm was destroyed for the second time.

"since we weren't enough, why don't you go ask the others." caleb pushed you to the side, making you collapse on the mattress as tears ran down your cheek.

you looked up and noticed sylus and rafayel looking down at you, an unwavering glint pinned on your ruined form as they waited for your next move. it was humiliating, how you were begging them to let you cum; but it was too much.

you were going insane, needing some relief.

you weakly crawled to sylus and rafayel, sniffling as your body began to shake. your thighs were dripping with xavier and caleb's cum, your messy holes pulsing and aching.

"sy.. raf.. please, make me cum. i-i... i promise i'll be a good girl." you desperately pleaded, fat teardrops running down your flushed cheeks; making them both groan as your pathetic state only made their cocks harden.

"poor little kitten, they were so mean to you, weren't they?" sylus cooed as he wiped your tears away, tone honeyed with gentleness but with an undertone of mischief.

you nodded helplessly, leaning into his touch as you nuzzled your cheeks into his palm. you kissed the inside of his hand, licking the warm and rough skin.

just like a kitten.

sylus grinned at your antics, amused at how compliant you were. however, he wasn't that mean; he'd humor you.

"need us to make her feel better, cutie?" rafayel teasingly spoke, long fingers running across your slit as you whimpered; the tip of his digits circling your clit.

"mmphh, y-yes... please.." you bit down on your lip, tasting the metallic taste of blood.

"alright, sweetie. we'll help you." sylus chortled, leaning against the headboard. he grabbed your hips, spinning you around in one fluid motion, your back now facing him. he then lifted you up before placing you on his waist, as if you weighed nothing.

you yelped as sylus hooked his beefy arms under your thighs, pulling them up to your head; putting you in a mean full nelson. the sudden pressure and stretch made your cunt gush out more of the cum that was fucked into you earlier, soaked pussy lips spread apart as you were now exposed and on display in a very vulnerable position.

"s-sylus!" you shyly meeked, making him hum.

"what? don't be selfish, sweetie. you know the fish is an artist, let him see this masterpiece." sylus bit your earlobe.

rafayel settled between sylus's legs, now in front of you as he shamelessly stared at your messy folds. he salivated as it took everything in him to not just lean down and makeout with your tempting cunt.

"stop lookin'." you whined, feeling how intense his gaze was. however, rafayel just gave you a breathy chuckle.

"why not? she's sooooo pretty." he licked his lips, flashing you a boyish grin, making your heart leap into your throat.

the lemurian lowered his head, pressing gentle kisses on your soft stomach, dragging his lips up your navel until he reached your tits. he sighed in bliss, smoothering his face between your boobs as he kissed and licked the mounds of flesh.

his dick rested on top of your pussy, sticky tip parting your folds as he rutted his hips; sliding the length of his cock against your slick covered cunt. his tip repeatedly nudged your clit, rubbing it as you moaned in bliss from the heavenly contact.

your hand found purchase in his dusky, purple hair; carding your fingers through his soft locks. you tugged on his hair, making him moan as the vibration rumbling from his lips were felt on your nipple as he sucked; making you choke out a moan.

the silver haired male kissed your temple, smiling.

"come on, sweetie, need you to hold your legs up for me so i can take care of you." his voice was groggy, releasing your legs before grabbing your hands to help you lift them as you obeyed.

"there you go, good girl." sylus praised, grabbing the base of his cock, swiping it a few times between your messy folds, nudging his tip on your hole. you moaned at the feel of his cock deliciously rubbing against your aching pussy.

"p-please... nghh- no more teasing." you were breathless, feeling rafayel once again capture your nipple in his mouth, suckling as if his purpose in life was to worship your tits.

"if you say so, sweetie." sylus compliantly shoved his inches in you, feeding your greedy hole his hard dick. your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back as his fat girth stretched your cunt; sliding in with ease because of your arousal along with xavier and caleb's shared cum.

rafayel watched your hole eagerly swallow up sylus's cock, gulping at the sight as his dick was painfully hard; globs of precum dripping onto your clit.

"so tight even after all that? how cute." sylus lets out a huff, slowly moving his hips upwards to give you some slow and deep strokes; tip squishing against your cervix.

"h-hnghh... fuck... feels so good, sy." you moaned, turning your head to the side to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. he happily accepted, sucking on your bottom lip before swiping his tongue against it for permission to explore your mouth.

his hands firmly grabbed your hips before planting his feet on the mattress, grounding both himself and you before pounding upwards into your dripping cunt. your mouth flew open from his sudden shift in pace, and he took that chance to shove his tongue in your mouth; exploring every cavern and crevice. both of your tongues mingled and tangled, sucking and licking as drool trickled down your chin.

"fuck, cutie... you look so hot like this; it's tempting. i can't let the crow have all the fun now, can i?" rafayel's fingers stroked your thigh, leaning down to kiss your plush thighs, gently biting the soft skin.

"ahhh... raf.." you whimpered, biting your lip as you feel his tip poke your ass hole. you released one of your legs, pressing your foot on his chest to stop him.

"hm?" the lemurian tilts his head in confusion at your sudden action, stopping his advances.

"n-not there... need you and sy at the same time.." you licked your dry lips, words barely coming out as a whisper. rafayel's eyes widened at your request, sylus's ruby orbs mirroring the same bewilderment.

"naughty girl, you want us both in this sweet cunt of yours? you think you can handle it?" sylus teased, a cocky smirk painted on his lips.

you nodded frantically, your foot running down rafayel's chest as you looked up at him with a cheeky smile; eyes barely open as you gazed at him with a dazed look.

"i can handle it, p-promise." you assured, making rafayel grin.

"well you heard her, crow. make some space." he grabbed the base of his shaft, now aligning his cock with your hole that was already occupied with sylus's thick cock. the silver haired male scoffed, rolling his eyes before momentarily stopping his thrusts; letting rafayel ease into you.

a screamish-moan ripped out of your throat, your walls clamping instinctively on both of their cocks; both men grunting in response as the space became tighter. your eyes swelled with tears, the salty warm fluid streaming down your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the painful stretch of having two giant cocks lodged in your cunt at the same time.

"shh... there, there, pretty girl. it's okay." rafayel tried to console you, his words barely making it to a full sentence before his voice betrayed him; a strangled whimper slipping off his tongue.

"i gotcha, sweetie." sylus mumbled against the skin of your nape, his hand snaking around your waist, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub soothing circles on the bundle of nerves to distract you.

the both of them allowed you to adjust to their cocks, providing additional stimulation to help you relax so that your walls aren't as tense. rafayel's teeth grazed your nipples, teasing and flicking the pebbled buds while sylus's fingers worked their magic to affectionately pinch and stroke your clit.

"nghh~ feels good... hnnghh- need more." you whined, moving your hips on your own accord, wincing as you could feel both of their dicks rubbing against your velvety wet walls.

"ya sure you're ready, cutie? we have all night." rafayel let out a shaky laugh, half-joking.

"moveee." you bucked your hips, making sylus chuckle.

"someone's impatient, not that i mind." with that being said, sylus once again began to slowly thrust into your pussy. he grunted, feeling his cock graze against rafayel's, the sensation feeling a little weird but he ignored that fact.

rafayel moaned at the sudden friction, his hand wrapping around your calf to push it by your head; mirroring your other leg which you still held up obediently. rafayel leaned closer, pressing against you before latching his lips onto your; kissing you senselessly.

you moaned into his mouth, feeling the both of them pistoning into your tight, dripping hole. rafayel hissed as he felt your fingers tug his hair, angling your jaw to deepend the kiss.

the room was full of wet skin slapping followed by the lewd sound of your pussy gushing out your juices; coating their cocks in your arousal as it dribbled down to their balls. rafayel's lips continued to suck and kiss at your swollen and bitten once; his tongue suckling with yours before pulling away as a string of saliva connected you two.

he pushed himself off of you, bringing the leg he held for you towards him. he kissed your ankle, running the tip of his tongue down to your calf before kitten-biting the flesh of it.

"mmphh... you taste so fucking sweet." rafayel swore under his breath, thrusting his cock deeper into your weeping hole. sylus followed in suit, both of their tips bruising your cervix.

"shit... you're taking us both so well, sweetie." sylus praised, now matching the movement of his fingers that were once leisurely rubbing your clit to the pace of his thrusts.

in seconds, everything shifted.

their gazes darkened, clouded with need and hunger. you squealed, feeling both sylus and rafayel thrusting in and out of your cunt with no mercy as their movement didn't falter.

not once.

they were so perfectly synced together, as if they were one.

"a-ahhhh~... f-fuck! please, please, please! so close... god! i'm gonna cum!" you choked on your tears as you sobbed, the pleasure you were feeling was intense.

your eyes rolled back, toes curled as you were gasping for air. both men grunted and moaned; focusing on chasing their high.

"how bad you want it, kitten?" sylus groaned, fucking his hips upward as you whimpered.

"so bad, fuck, need it so bad!" you desperately answered, convinced that you wouldn't survive another ruined orgasm.

"yeah? ask nicely, where are your manners, cutie?" rafayel snickered, driving his hips into your; pelvis meeting yours with brutal thrusts that made your body jerk.

"h-hahhhh... oh my god...- please, please, please. let me cum? i promise i'll be good, so fuckin' good. please raf... sy... need it so bad." you threw out every last ounce of dignity within yourself to beg them with your last bit of voice.

both men, clearly satisfied with your answer, feed your cunt with their cocks using an unforgiving pace of thrusts. rafayel's hips were a bit sloppier, but they were fast and needy, like he was scared that you'd disappear. in contrast, sylus's pace was slow but his thrusts were hard and deep; making sure his tip met your cervix with every movement of his hips.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." the silver haired male let out a guttural moan, eyes screwed shut as he could feel his cock pulsate; vein twitching as blood flowed with adrenaline.

rafayel shamelessly moaned on top of you, panting like a dog as he continued to fuck his dick into your wet hole.

"open your mouth." he demanded and too fucked out to even decipher his intentions, you obeyed. rafayel spat into your mouth, the thick glob of spit coating your tongue before you swallowed it.

"good girl." rafayel grunted, feeling his balls tightening as he was close to cumming as well.

your stomach knotted, the build-up of your orgasm even more stronger as your gummy walls clamped down on their cocks viciously.

"auughh~ i'm cumming! fuck.. hnghh..." you choked out a moan, eyes screwed shut as hot liquid squirted out of your cunt; coating rafayel's lower abdomen. you creamed on their cocks, body twitching as you feel both of them creampie you; shoving their sticky and gooey cum deep into your womb.

your juices and their cum dripped down your thigh, coating sylus's balls as you could hear his breathing become uneven from the aftermath of such intense pleasure. rafayel collapsed on top of you, still mindful to not crush you with his entire weight.

"so tired..." he childishly whined, biting your nipple playfully as you huffed.

"you're heavy, raf, get off." you grumbled, making him pout as he smoothered his face between your boobs once again.

"nah, you're too soft." he argued, making you roll your eyes.

"i feel sticky and gross.." you mumbled, noticing how the room was a bit more quieter. xavier was passed out on the couch and caleb left the room a few minutes ago for whatever reason; zayne watching the whole scene intently from the edge of the bed.

you locked eyes with him, noticing the slight blush on his face. he cleared his throat, looking away.

"perhaps a hot shower might be nice." he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"yeah, it does sound tempting." you hummed.

"need some help, sweetie?" sylus offered, but his tone had a hint of mischief.

"i got it." zayne suddenly spoke up, walking over to where you were sandwhiched between rafayel and sylus. he pushed the groggy lemurian over, making him groan.

"hey! i was comfy." rafayel complained, making the doctor roll his eyes.

"it's my place, surely i know my bathroom better." sylus snickered, making zayne narrow his eyes.

"if i could perfom hundreds of heart surgeries, i'm sure i can figure out how to work your damn shower." zayne snarked back with an equal amount of bite, making the silver haired male smirk.

"touche, she's all yours, doc." sylus chuckled.

zayne sighed, scooping you up in his arms before heading into the bathroom; locking the door behind him.

"you look... fucked." he blurted out, making you laugh at his dry comment.

"wow, thanks, i didn't know." you playfully rolled your eyes, making him crack a small smile.

"that was... intense. after you shower, i could get you some painkillers to help with any soreness. can you stand?" zayne asked with a flicker of concern in his hazel orbs, settling you on your legs and lightly loosening his grip; only for your knees to wobble as you held onto his bicep for support.

"i guess not." he answered his own question, making you chuckle.

"mind helping me out, doc?" you asked, peering up at him with a girly smile. zayne felt his heart skip a beat, heat creeping up to his neck.

it's not like this would be his first time being intimate with you, but you still made him feel incredibly nervous.

"if you insist, then i don't mind." his tone was soft and gentle. you smiled at his agreement, taking off his glasses. you leaned onto the sink for support, watching him undo his tie before unbuttoning his shirt; revealing his chiseled chest.

fuck, his physique was like a greek god.

he undid his belt, zipping down his pants before kicking them off together with his boxers; his cock springing to life as his pinkish tip was a little swollen while dripping with precum. you leaned forwards, now pressed against him as your bare chest rubbed against his.

zayne groaned at the intimate skinship, his cock rubbing against your soft thighs. your hand reached down, grabbing the shaft as you experimentally gave it a few strokes.

"let me take care of you." your voice was a bare whisper, making him shudder. but, to your surprise, he shook his head.

"no, you don't have to do this for me, i'll get myself off or something. just ignore it, okay?" zayne tried to convince you, but it only made you frown.

"but i want to... i've been wanting to feel you the whole night." you pressed soft kisses along his jawline, making him swallow harshly as you saw his adam's apple bob.

"then let me make it up to you since that bastard pulled me away from you. i'll make you feel good, baby." he lifted your hips, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as his cock was now nestled between your folds.

he walked inside the shower, pulling the glass doors to close it before turning on the water; adjusting the temperature. you cupped his face, pulling him closer to yours to seal his lips with yours.

zayne moaned into your mouth, molding his lips with yours as he softly kneaded your ass. your tongue poked his bottom lip, seeking for entry which he happily granted. you kissed him with a needy vigor, sucking his tongue as you stroked his wet jet black hair.

pulling away breathlessly, zayne looked down at you with swollen lips. he attacked your neck with kisses, making your whimper as you felt his tongue graze your flesh, softly tracing the hickies left on your skin with the tip of his tongue. he moved down to your tits, sucking your nipples as your hand held the back of his head; pushing him closer as you moaned.

"mhmm... feels so good, zayne." you praised, watching him tug your nipple between his teeth before giving it a deserving suck. he soon lets go of your swollen bud, hazel eyes meeting yours.

"i'll be gentle, okay?" he assured, making your chest feel warm and fuzzy as you nodded; wrapping your arms around his neck.

zayne grabbed the base of his cock, tapping your clit a few times, making you jolt. he smirked at how responsive your body was, aligning his tip with your hole. with a firm grip on your hips, he begin to sink you down on his hard cock, slowly shoving his inches inside you.

your mouth formed an 'o' shape as your eyes shut tight, feeling full as he bottomed out.

"s-so full.." you moaned, feeling him slowly thrust inside of you as the curve of his dick molded so perfectly in your wet walls. you clenched down on him, making him grunt at the sudden tightness.

"you feel so good, babygirl." zayne whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek and temple before sliding you up and down his dick. you rested your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent as you kissed his neck.

this felt so new compared to what happened just minutes ago. the others fought over you like you were some piece of meat to claim; but zayne treated you like you were made of glass.

he was so gentle with his touches and strokes, you could almost cry.

zayne's tip nudged your cervix with every push of his hips, now having you pressed against the wall to have a better hold of you so that he can drive his hips into yours faster. your cunt weeped with arousal, gummy walls coated with his precum.

his thrusts were sharp yet slow, making sure it applied the right amount of pressure and friction to make you feel like you were seeing stars. his balls slapped against your ass, your nipple between his lips.

"hnghh.. love your cock, zyane. g-gonna cum.." you let out a shaky breath, clenching down on him as your increased sensitivity betrayed your body, not allowing you to hold onto your orgasm for too long.

"it's okay, baby. you can cum." he grunted against the wet skin of your tits and you didn't realize how intimate and erotic the whole sight was.

a choked out whimper escaped your throat, your cunt clamping down on him as you squirted all over his cock. your body twitched and trembled at your orgasm, panting as you leaned against his chest.

"shit, please... i need you to fill me up." you begged and that's all it took him to bust a fat load of his thick, hot cum inside your hole.

"fuck.." he swore and god it sounded so hot coming from his mouth.

the bathroom was filled with the sounds of uneven breathing and the running showerhead.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you stirred awake, groaning as you now laid on your back. sunlight beamed into your room, making your eyes burn as you tried to crack one of them.

"fuckin' hell.." you cursed under your breath, adjusting your vision as you sat up on your bed. your head was swirling as you held it in pain, wincing.

it was all a dream.

you slapped yourself, not believing how delusional you became to believe that whatever the hell that was could be reality.

"yeah, i'm losing it." you sighed deeply, scratching your head. you tapped your phone screen, reading the time as your eyes blew wide open.

fuck, it was well past noon, meaning you missed your morning classes already.

"you're kidding me." you huffed out in annoyance, leaning back on the headboard as you unlocked your phone.

you saw the many, many, many missed calls from your best friend; making you snort.

as you swiped through your applications, your eyes fell on the love and deepspace icon. memories of your strange dream replayed fresh in your memory, your body weirdly aching.

you brushed off those thoughts, clicking the icon as you wondered if infold fixed those weird bugs and glitches by now. you were surprised to see the app back into shape, running in good quality as you logged in with ease.

"huh, weird." you mumbled to yourself, calmly collecting your daily’s.

until you realized you had five unread messages.

hey pipsqueak, hope you're not still mad at me for being a bit mean to ya. i'll cook for you when you come back :p

hope you're not missing me too much, sweetie. come back and i'll take you for a joyride.

cutieeee! i miss you already :C come back soon, okay? need my personal pillow back.

if your throat is still sore, come back so we can have hotpot together. it'll be my treat.

have you taken those painkillers like i told you to?

your jaw was wide open, not believing your eyes. these texts seemed way too real to be automated.

"what the fuck." you quickly opened your front camera, only to see the faint purplish marks decorating your neck.

holy shit, all of that was real.

a smirk etched on your face as you quickly tapped the facetime app, ringing the only person you knew could stand this news and have a silver of faith in you to be convinced.

"finally decided to call me back? thought you died in your sleep or something." your best friend nagged at you, making you chuckle.

"you won't believe what happened last night." you giggle, making her roll her eyes at you.

"let me guess, you had a dream about all the lads guys fucking your brains out." she responded with a bored voice.

"even better."

---

a/n: hehe, if you made it to the end, kuddos to you cuz rereading through this was a pain the ass. if you couldn't tell by now, this was very self-indulgent, so i got carried away. hope you guys enjoyed it tho!!

[artficlly]

hi !! i love ur work <3

ok i had an idea for a one shot but it’s totally fine if u don’t want to do it!

so reader and bucky break up (bucky dumps her) bc he thinks she can do better or whatevs and instead of feeling sad, reader is kind of getting off to how bad bucky is doing without her 😜😜 this is obviously inspired by my kink is karma from chappell lmao. anyways ends in fluff or smut and a lot of how much bucky missed her 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😛😛

thank uuu !!

BITTER [one-shot]

modern marvel au vet!bartender!bucky x reader Bucky doesn't do relationships, but maybe you'll be the one to change him

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, sexual themes, angst, hurt/comfort, major character death, ptsd, bucky barnes needs a hug, bucky barnes has issues, bar fights, alcohol, smoking, swearing, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.2k

A/N: heya nonnie. this isn't exactlyyy what you asked for but i hope you like it anyway. i'm technically on hiatus rn but i felt bad leaving your ask unanswered for so long. i've been working on this between classes, i'm not super happy with it but i thought i'd post it anyway, it got a bit longer than i was expecting. i have like 5 million things due at the end of the month so i might be gone for a bit so here is a treat in the meantime! much love! ! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

permanent taglist: @civilbucky @globetrotter28 (i swear there was someone else who wanted to be added, pls let me know if that was you i lost your comment)

main masterlist

The first thing Wanda had told you about Bucky Barnes was to beware. 

Proceed with caution.

You were the type to fall in love easily, it was one of the first things you had confessed to Wanda, wine-drunk only a week after moving into her dodgy shoebox of an apartment, where the previous tenant's mail still showed up—and so did their debt collector. You were new in the city, bright-eyed and overly romantic about all you encountered, including the suspicious stains on the carpet courtesy of Wanda’s old roommate, who she only referred to as ‘that nightmarish cunt’. Wanda was cool, chic yet edgy, her voice dripping a Slavic accent and always armed with a dangerous look in her eye. She worked downtown as a sous chef at one of those mid-tier restaurants that you considered fancy, but anyone even marginally higher than your pay grade wouldn’t look twice. 

Her boyfriend, Sam, worked at a bar across the road. Howling Commandos. He co-owned it with his buddy, the infamous Bucky Barnes. They had met while serving in the army, both retiring early from service. Sam was discharged after an injury that rendered him ‘useless’, and Bucky was discharged shortly after on grounds of mental health. 

And maybe that was the allure—the myth of Bucky Barnes. 

He was handsome, dark-haired, blue-eyed, the usual fairy-tale rom-com affair. He was brooding, damaged goods, and had a real chip on his shoulder since his discharge. He poured a good drink, kept the bar running smoothly, and was big enough to intimidate drunk frat boys who occasionally wandered in looking for a fight. But apparently, he didn’t do relationships. He would fuck anything that moved if it caught his fleeting attention for long enough, but that was it. 

Wanda had confessed it all to you on that dreaded wine-drunk night, hummus and carrot sticks forgotten as the TV blared Wanda’s Spotify playlist on loop. She’d had a friend, one who had moved away now, but that friend had slept with Bucky. Said it was the best lay of her life. 

So, Wanda had said, voice dipped as she gave you a drunken, sloppy grin over her Pinot Gris, the two bottles she had pinched from work now empty. If you want the night of your life, go for it, but don’t expect anything more. 

That was the rule with Bucky Barnes:

Don’t get attached. 

So, maybe foolishly, when Wanda had roused you from a hangover-induced nap the following day by asking if you wanted to join her at the Howling Commandos and continue your bender from the night before, you had taken the leap. 

–

Howling Commandos didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat.

It had the look of a place that had seen one too many late nights and even more bad decisions. Exposed brick walls, low-hanging lights that shrouded the room in a dim orange glow, and a row of pool tables tucked in the back behind a collection of stained wood tables and chairs.  It was edgy, kind of dark and mysterious, much like the infamous bartender who now stood before you in the flesh. 

You and Wanda had descended upon the bar at half-past nine, arms linked, laughter spilling between you. You’d gelled quickly—your soft, unguarded friendliness balancing out her wicked smirks and razor-edged sarcasm.

She swung into a barstool with the ease of someone who belonged here, peeling off her winter coat and tossing it onto the counter, shaking the snow from her auburn hair. Across from her, Bucky barely spared her a glance, his mouth set in a line that could have been annoyance or indifference.

“Wanda.” His voice was low, unimpressed.

That was all he said. No hello, no warmth. Just her name, like it was something to be tolerated.

Wanda only grinned, leaning her elbows onto the bar like she had all the time in the world.

“Sam’s out back,” Bucky added, eyes flicking toward the door before sliding right past her, landing on you instead. “Still picking up strays, I see.”

You grinned before you could help yourself, slipping into the seat next to Wanda. As you shrugged off your coat, neatly sliding it into your lap, Wanda let out a mock-horrified gasp on your behalf. 

“So rude, this is my new roommate.” Wanda’s eyes slid over to you, head tilting as she gestured towards the scowling Bucky. “And this dickhead is Bucky. He’s co-owner with Sam.”

“I remember.” You replied with ease, your gaze and smile unwavering even as Bucky gave a noncommittal grunt, turning away to continue polishing the glass in his palm. 

Wanda, unbothered by his callousness, leant in. “I’m going to be honest, I need a drink ASAP. I’ve got an awful headache, and you know what I always say! Best way to beat a hangover? Drink even more.”

“Does Sam know you’re an alcoholic?” Bucky cut back, not even bothering to turn around. 

“Awwh, Buck, is that genuine care?”

“Not for you.” Bucky snipped.

Wanda made a mock pout face, fingers drumming across the bar. “But seriously, put me out of my misery here—”

“Your usual?” He cut over her.

Wanda didn’t skip a beat. 

“Pretty please,” she purred, her tone sweet and syrupy, dripping with exaggerated charm. As she settled more comfortably into the stool, her gaze flicked to you with a knowing gleam. “What do you want? On the house.”

Before you could respond, Sam’s voice rang out, thick with amused exasperation. “Baby, you can’t go offering drinks on the house to everyone—” He appeared from the back, a box of bottled spirits cradled in his arms,

“She’s my roommate—” Wanda began, but Sam cut her off, raising an eyebrow as he set the box down with a thud.

“Oh yeah? I haven’t forgotten the last one that you also insisted could have free drinks, and she turned out to be—”

“Don’t! Don’t bring up that cunt—”

You tuned out the conversation as Wanda slipped from her seat, weaving around the bar with the kind of effortless grace that came with knowing she belonged. She leaned into Sam’s space without hesitation, her laughter slipping through the low hum of the bar, threading between the murmur of voices and the scratchy tune spilling from the jukebox in the corner.

It wasn’t until Bucky slid a glass of dark liquor across the bar—precisely where Wanda had been sitting—that you finally tore your gaze away from them.

His eyes found yours, expectant, unmoving.

“It’s okay, I can pay,” you assured him, reaching for your wallet, but his unimpressed stare didn’t waver. His silence stretched, almost as if he were waiting for you to back down first.

You didn’t. “Gin and tonic.”

No acknowledgement, not even a nod. He simply turned, reaching for the bottle of gin without a word.

Wanda reappeared beside you, collapsing back into her seat with a dramatic sigh, a sound that quickly dissolved into a giggle as Sam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek on his way past. The small moment of affection made you smile, your gaze trailing after him as he made his way toward the pool tables. He moved with familiarity, exchanging greetings with the patrons, his presence met with easy grins and back pats.

“He’s cute,” you hummed, watching him settle into the space like he owned it.

“I know, right?” Wanda smirked, pulling her drink closer.

You propped an elbow on the bar, your curiosity piqued. “How’d you meet?”

She took a slow sip, savouring the taste before setting the glass down. It looked like rum and coke. Smelt like it too. “He used to come to my work all the time when they were fixing up this place. We just got to talking one day and—”

Bucky set your drink in front of you with the same quiet precision as before, cutting off Wanda’s sentence mid-thought. You turned your attention back to him, offering a bright smile that didn’t falter, even as he met it with a frown.

“I’ve never liked those,” Wanda barely spared him a glance, instead eyeing your drink with mild disdain. “Not sweet enough for me.”

“Well, I like my drinks how I like my men,” you replied, the words coming with a smirk that you directed toward Bucky, holding his gaze longer than you probably should have. “Bitter.”

—

Shivering in the back alley by the dumpsters probably wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, you were committed.

You and Wanda had knocked back one too many drinks—again. It was becoming a habit, one that Sam was starting to take personally, considering he was the one who had to cut Wanda off after she got a little too liberal with her chatting and nearly convinced a stranger to let her wear his coat home. You, on the other hand, had managed to slip out gracefully, settling your tab before Wanda was carted out back to be babysat and force-fed water.

Neither of them had been thrilled at the idea of you walking home alone. Buzzed, barely dressed for the weather, and just reckless enough to make poor decisions, you’d assured them you were fine. Which, technically, was true. What you had failed to mention was that you hadn’t actually made it more than a few feet out the door before deciding to truly test the limits of your dignity.

The cigarette hanging from your lips wobbled slightly as you tried—unsuccessfully—to light it with numb fingers. You swore under your breath, stuffing the useless lighter back into your pocket just as the back door of Howling Commandos swung open.

And as fate—or some cruel, all-seeing god—would have it, it wasn’t Sam or Wanda who stepped outside.

Bucky emerged, a black trash bag slung over one shoulder, his usual scowl fixed in place. His stride slowed slightly when he caught sight of you, his expression unreadable.

“Thought you went home,” he muttered. “Sam and Wanda already left. If you need a ride, I can call you a cab.”

You tilted your head, watching as he moved, efficient, mechanical. The back door groaned shut behind him, its echo swallowed by the muffled city noise beyond the alley. Dumpster lid up, bag tossed in, blue eyes flicking back to you, waiting.

“I don’t need a ride.”

His gaze swept over you, unimpressed. “Sure about that? You look outta your damn mind right now.”

You exhaled, breath clouding the frigid air as you shoved your hands deeper into your coat pockets. The wind bit through the alleyway, slithering beneath the fur-trimmed collar and creeping up your spine.

“Well, when I had this brilliant idea, I was still drunk,” you admitted, shifting your weight on unsteady legs. “Now that alcohol’s worn off and it’s cold as shit, I can’t even fuckin’ light a smoke ‘cause my hands are shaking so bad.”

You lifted your fingers to prove your point, stiff and trembling from the cold, flashing him a lazy grin. He did not look impressed.

“This a cry for help? I don’t know what it is with Wanda and picking up crazy fuckin’ roommates—”

“I wanted to get your number.” You shrugged, unbothered by the scepticism in his tone. “Didn’t want to do it in the bar, figured you’re a private kinda guy, don’t like putting your business out for the world. I can respect that.”

He blinked, once. Then, slowly, “So you thought the next best option was to wait in a back alley in the snow—?”

“Hey,” you cut him off with a laugh, shifting your weight against the wall. “I said I was drunk when I came up with it… never said it was a good plan.”

Something flickered across his expression. Dry amusement, maybe. Then, to your surprise, he huffed out a short laugh, his breath visible in the cold air curling between you.

You smirked. “C’mon, I’ve been out here for like… an hour. Least you can do is give me your number.”

He took his time looking you over, slow and assessing. Despite the heavy winter coat hanging off your shoulders, you were still grossly underdressed for the weather. The short, tight-fitting dress clung to you like a second skin, courtesy of Wanda’s slut-shaming is sooo 2016 speech. A poor choice in hindsight, considering the temperature was bordering on unbearable.

“I’ll do you one better.”

You arched a brow. “Yeah?”

His voice dipped lower, something rougher curling at the edges. “How about I lock up, and you sit your pretty little ass in my car? I’ll drive you back to mine.” A beat. “Sound good?”

Now, this was the Bucky Barnes Wanda had described—the dangerous one, the elusive ladykiller. The shift had been minuscule, yet you already found your panties were wet.

You smiled. “Well, now you’re talking my language.”

—

"We should stop seeing each other."

Bucky sat hunched on the edge of his bed, forearms braced against his knees, fingers laced tightly together as if he were holding himself back. He didn’t look at you. His jaw was set, his mouth a firm line, but that wasn’t what unsettled you—it was the tension in his shoulders, the restless bounce of his leg, the way he exhaled through his nose like he was already regretting this conversation.

That first night had been the spark, but the fire never quite burned out. It carried on in flickering embers, nights tangled in his sheets, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, bodies moving in time with the city’s restless heartbeat. If you had to put a name to it, fuck buddies was the closest fit, though even that felt too familiar, too warm. There were no tender morning-afters, no texts outside of arranging the next meeting. You met him in the alley after closing and let him drive you back to his place. Though sometimes, you never made it that far. Sometimes, it was the backseat of his car, windows fogged, streetlights streaking across his skin as you clawed at his shoulders. Other times, it was rushed and desperate, your palms braced against crates in the storeroom, breath hitching between half-suppressed moans before either of you had the sense to lock the damn door.

But as winter thawed into spring, something shifted.

The first crack in the foundation came when Bucky, against all odds, accepted your half-hearted invite to grab a bite to eat. You’d won a cheap voucher for a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place around the corner from the bar, fully expecting him to wave you off. But he hadn’t. And somehow, the two of you had ended up crammed into a booth, sharing a pile of nachos, snickering into your drinks as you watched a group of college kids make absolute fools of themselves. You wouldn’t have called it a date—Bucky sure as hell didn’t—but something about it felt different. Easier. The way he’d nudged his plate toward you when he noticed you eyeing his last taco. The way he leaned just a little too close, voice dropping low in your ear, murmuring some dry remark that made you snort into your margarita.

You weren’t sure when the line blurred. Maybe it was when your not-date nights became just as routine as your hookups. Or maybe it was at Wanda’s birthday dinner when Bucky—without thinking, without hesitation—draped his arm across the back of your chair, fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against the bare skin of your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed at first, too caught up in conversation, but Wanda and Sam sure as hell had. They shared a look, one of those wordless exchanges, tight-lipped and knowing. Like they were bracing for the inevitable. Like they could already see the fallout creeping on the horizon.

And they were right.

Because after a year of effortless, reckless bliss, Bucky finally reached his limit.

You should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known that letting Wanda rope you into planning his surprise birthday party was a mistake. That something so personal, so full of effort, would make him withdraw. It was all too much. Too close. Too intimate for someone who spent his life keeping people at arm’s length.

And just like that, the fire snuffed out.

Your grip tightened around the box in your hands, the crinkling of the wrapping paper comically loud in the quiet room. The laughter and chatter from the party outside felt like a world away, muffled through the walls of his bedroom. You had pulled him aside to give him his present in private, and now it sat between you like a hand grenade, pin already pulled, waiting for the explosion.

“Are you going to open your present? Hand-picked by yours truly, I made sure not to let Sam meddle with those prank gifts of his—” You ignored his words, shoving the brightly wrapped box towards him. He barely glanced at it before waving it off, his scowl deepening.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Bucky interrupted you, expression nowhere near impressed

“Jesus, Bucky. Are you serious?” The sigh that left you was excessive, the once bubbly and sweet aura you wrapped yourself up in so tightly melting away in an instant. 

You should have known.

He had been off all week. Distant, restless. He’d stopped waiting for you in the back alley after his shifts ended, ignored your texts, and let your calls go to voicemail. Hell, he hadn’t even invited you over to fuck in two weeks, and that was the foundation of whatever this was between you. You’d told yourself it was the late winter blues—snow had been falling thick for weeks now even with spring looming closer by the day. Maybe, you had told yourself, it was some kind of early mid-life crisis with his birthday looming.

But deep down, you’d known better. You’d felt it in the way he couldn’t meet your eyes anymore, how his touch had cooled from burning to indifferent. It was like a switch had flipped, turning lust into something close to disgust.

“I’m serious,” Bucky said, exhaling like the conversation had already exhausted him. He rubbed a hand down his face, eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder as if looking at you would make this harder. Or maybe easier. “We should stop… whatever this is.”

The present now sat on the bed, abandoned between you. You placed it down with deliberate care, fingers smoothing over the edges as you mulled over his words. Beyond the walls, the party raged on, voices rising in drunken harmony as Sweet Caroline blared over the speakers. A chorus of shouts—touchin’ me, touchin’ you—mocked the silence stretching between you.

You knew there was no point in arguing, not when Bucky had already made up his mind, disillusioned or not. But the question still burned its way up your throat before you could stop it, raw and sharp as you met his gaze.

“Why?”

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

However he had expected you to react, this clearly wasn’t it. Maybe he thought you’d cry. Maybe he thought you’d yell. But you had never been the type for tears or begging. You just wanted the truth. The cold, ruthless reason why this wasn’t working anymore.

“Yes. Why? What’s changed?”

Bucky hesitated, something flickering across his face. Hesitation, regret, guilt, maybe all three. Then, his jaw tensed, and he forced the words out like they tasted bitter on his tongue.

“You’re… You’re just too much. You’re too much for me.”

Your head tilted slightly, observing him. He still wouldn’t meet your eye.

“Too much, huh?” You echoed, voice steady despite the way your stomach twisted. “And how exactly am I too much?”

He sighed, exasperated. “You’re just… overbearing. You always want to text or call, or stop by the bar. You’re always asking after me with Sam and Wanda. It’s all just a little too much, doll. This was supposed to be a casual thing.” His fingers flexed at his sides, his frustration palpable. “You’re just—”

“So, you’re punishing me because I care?”

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying, Bucky?” Your voice sharpened, and your patience unravelling. “That I’m clingy? That I’m suffocating you? Is it such a crime that I want to spend time with you—”

“You’re just—fuckin’ everywhere.” His voice rose, and you arched a brow, arms folding over your chest. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I swear to God. Every thought I have, everything I do—you’re there. I dream about you. And sometimes, I swear I smell that goddamn perfume of yours even when you’re not around—”

“Bucky.” You took a step forward, searching his face for something, anything. “Have you ever considered that maybe this is happening because you like me? Not because I’m some overbearing burden in your life—”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his entire body stiff.

“I don’t do relationships.”

You let out a dry, humourless laugh, shaking your head. “So, what then? You’re just gonna cut me off? I got too close, didn’t I? Too close to you—to the real you, the one you hide under all that brooding, tough-guy bullshit—so now you’re pushing me away?”

Bucky’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

You exhaled sharply, your patience splintering under the weight of his silence. “You know, Wanda warned me this would happen. Sam too. Hell, just about everyone out there did.” You gestured vaguely toward the door, toward the muffled chaos of the party beyond his bedroom. Laughter and music seeped through the walls. “Your friends, your colleagues. They all warned me. Guess I’m the idiot for thinking it’d be different, huh?”

His gaze flickered. A barely-there flinch. You pressed on.

“They told me you throw people away when they get too attached.” Your voice softened, but not with kindness, with something hollow, something resigned. “Or worse, when you do.”

His breath hitched, so quick and so subtle that if you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you would’ve missed it. But you saw it: the crack, the hesitation, the battle waging behind those sharp blue eyes.

For a second, it almost looked like he might break. Like he might finally say what he was really thinking.

But then, just as quickly as it appeared, the moment was gone. His expression hardened, every ounce of warmth draining from his face.

“I don’t need you.”

And just like that, the last ember of hope inside you burned out.

You swallowed against the ache in your throat, but your voice came steady, unwavering. “Is that the truth?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “Or are you just telling yourself that to feel better?”

His eyes darkened, and this time, there was no hesitation.

“Get out.”

—

You weren’t sure why you came back to the Howling Commandos.

You were beginning to suspect that Wanda and Sam were scheming something. She was constantly begging you to visit the bar every night off she had with the promise of free liquor. It had taken a few weeks after Bucky’s birthday meltdown for you to finally budge. Maybe it was the way Wanda had pulled you along, her arm hooked through yours like she could drag you away from the weight of it all. Maybe it was the way she made you laugh, tipping her head back, auburn hair catching in the bar’s dim light, her wicked look as she shrugged off her coat and flung it onto the counter. Maybe it was because you knew he would be here.

And, maybe, just maybe, you wanted that.

Bucky stood behind the bar, sleeves rolled to his forearms, jaw tight as he poured a whiskey neat without looking up. He must’ve heard you come in like he always did, but his eyes never once lifted from his work.

You perched upon one of the barstools beside Wanda, the wood sticky beneath your elbows, the orange glow from the bar’s lights catching in the condensation on your glass. A gin and tonic. No words exchanged, no request needed, just Bucky’s hand sliding it across the table without so much as a glance in your direction.

It was almost funny, the way he refused to look at you, wouldn’t acknowledge you beyond the ghost of a touch as his fingers brushed the glass. And yet, he still remembered your drink. Still took the time to slice a bit of lemon for the rim, just the way you liked it. Never mind that he’d once grumbled about how much he hated customers who ordered anything that meant extra cleanup at the end of the night.

“You gonna sulk all night or actually have fun?” Wanda teased, knocking her knee against yours.

You took a slow sip, letting the cool burn of gin settle on your tongue before answering. “I am having fun.”

“Sure you are,” she drawled, not buying it for a second.

But the night wasn’t all bad. You were feeling good, maybe a little too good, laughing at Sam’s exaggerated retelling of a story you’d already heard a dozen times, Wanda snorting into her rum, the buzz settling in like a second skin.

But the uneasy peace did not last long, as chaos had a way of following Bucky Barnes like his own shadow.

Two guys, a little too confident, a little too eager. You felt them before you even turned, whiskey on their breath, a practiced smirk tugging at the lips. The kind of men who smelled like cheap aftershave and overconfidence, sliding into your space with easy grins and empty compliments. One leaned in too close. “Didn’t think someone like you would be drinking alone.”

You arched a brow. “Who says I’m alone?”

He took the bait, smirking. “That right? Where’s your boyfriend, then?”

“Don’t have one.” You replied, tone disinterested.

He grasped your arm, and you yanked it away, nearly elbowing Wanda beside you in the process. “Oh yeah? I could change that for you sweetheart—” 

You didn’t have time to answer before you saw the bar flap shoot up in your peripherals. 

“Hey, man,” Sam warned, barely getting the words out before Bucky was there, a cloud at the edge of your vision, muscles wound tight beneath his shirt. He wasn’t looking at you, not really, but you could feel the storm rolling off him in waves, the tension singing through his frame.

The guy didn’t even have time to react before Bucky shoved him back—hard enough to knock him off balance, sending his drink sloshing onto the floor.

“The fuck?” Whiskey-breath scowled, stumbling forward like he thought he had a chance.

Bucky stepped in, jaw clenched, fist already curled like a promise. His voice was smooth, even. “Out. Now.”

The guy scoffed, straightening. “Oh yeah? What are you, the bouncer?”

“Nah.” Bucky tilted his head. “I fuckin’ own the place.”

Sam was rounding the bar, slipping beneath the bar flap. “One rule, Bucky! We have one rule!”

“No assholes in the bar?” Bucky deadpanned, flexing his fingers.

“No. No punching customers—hey!”

Too late.

The first punch landed with a sickening crack, sharp enough to slice through the low hum of conversation. A brief, stunned silence settled over the bar, glasses paused mid-air, a cue ball rolling to a stop on the felt. Then, a gasp. A sharp inhale. Someone let out a bark of laughter.

The guy staggered back, clutching his jaw, blinking like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. But instead of learning his lesson, he surged forward, swinging blindly in a desperate attempt to save face.

The impact came from the right. A solid hit, knuckles cutting against Bucky’s brow. His head snapped slightly to the side, strands of dark hair falling loose from where they’d been tucked behind his ears. The second punch followed fast—less precise, more frantic—but it clipped him along the cheekbone, just enough to split the skin.

A thin trail of red welled up, tracking down the sharp line of his face.

Bucky stilled.

A slow, dangerous exhale. Then, before the guy could so much as blink, Bucky struck. A brutal, efficient one-two, fist slamming into ribs, then an upward cut that sent the man sprawling. His friend hesitated, torn between pride and self-preservation, before grabbing a fistful of his collar and dragging him toward the door.

Bucky flexed his fingers, shaking out his hand like he was testing for damage, like he barely felt it. The cut above his brow was bleeding, a slow trickle of crimson trailing towards his temple, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes flicking lazily towards him, your pulse not even kicking up. Beside you, Wanda didn’t so much as blink; she just swirled the last of her rum and coke, watching the scene unfold like it was a rerun of a show she’d seen too many times before.

Finally, with a knowing smirk, she leaned in, voice low and honey-smooth. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

You swirled your gin and tonic, ice clinking against the glass, lips curling around the rim as you took another sip.

“Maybe.”

—

The back room was cold, the kind of cold that settled deep in the bones, seeping through the exposed brick walls. A single bulb hung overhead, casting a dim, yellow glow over the stacked crates of liquor and the metal shelves lined with bottles. You’d been in here many times, though usually under much more pleasurable circumstances. Bucky sat on an overturned crate, elbows on his knees, blood drying along the ridge of his knuckles. His head was tipped slightly forward, shoulders hunched as he rolled one of his split knuckles between his fingers, like he was testing if it still hurt. 

You shut the door behind you.

His jaw tightened. “Don’t.”

You ignored him, stepping past the crates and grabbing the first aid kit off the nearest shelf. “Sit up straight.”

He didn’t move.

So, with a sigh, you pressed a firm hand to his shoulder and shoved him upright. He let it happen, though he shot you an unamused look as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“Jesus, you’re pushy.”

You crouched in front of him, flipping open the first aid kit, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling the air. He watched as you poured alcohol onto a clean cloth, soaking it through before pressing it against the cut above his brow.

Bucky flinched, fingers twitching like he wanted to grab your wrist, to stop you. But he didn’t.

“Hold still,” you murmured, dabbing at the wound.

His lip curled slightly, but he stayed put, letting you clean the blood away. His fists clenched on his thighs, shoulders wound tight like he was waiting for something worse.

“You know,” you said, voice light despite the weight in the air, “I heard from Wanda you’ve been losing it lately.”

Bucky huffed. “Yeah?”

“She said you’ve been missing shifts, and when you do turn up, you’re, uh…” You smirked, twisting the cloth to clean the edge of his jaw. “Well, these are her words, not mine—a miserable old cunt. Keep picking fights with customers.” You paused, waiting to see his response. His lips remained sown shut, his gaze cold, and he did not quite meet your eye. With an arch of your brow, you continued.

“Apparently, someone broke into your car, and you’re getting kicked out of your apartment because your landlord wants to sell it to some construction assholes.” You tilted your head, studying him. “I mean, some of that isn’t your fault, but it sounds like karma to me.”

Bucky’s fingers flexed. “Why do you care, doll?”

“I don’t,” you said easily, wringing out the cloth before pressing it against his brow again. “It’s like… watching a car wreck. Kind of captivating in a way.”

He let out a short, humourless laugh. “You’re fucked up.”

“Yeah, maybe I am.” You shrugged, barely glancing at him as you grabbed another clean cloth. “But I think, deep down, maybe I just pity you.”

Bucky’s expression darkened. “Why are you so normal about all of this? Aren’t you the one that’s supposed to be, I don’t know, freaking out? I was the one who dropped you, not the other way around.”

You paused, the cloth still pressed to his skin. You considered his words, then slowly and calmly, you replied. “It’s your own heart that you’re breaking, baby.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. “You don’t know that.”

“I think I do.”

His lips parted like he was about to argue, but instead, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You don’t know shit about me.”

You sat back on your heels, observing him. The bruises were darkening across his cheekbones, his knuckles still raw, and his body shuddering from the aftermath. But beneath it all—under the cold defiance and the sharp edges—you saw it. The weight of something unspoken, something he wouldn’t admit to himself.

You hummed, tilting your head. “I know a lot.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered to you, wary.

“I know that you take your coffee black, your whiskey neat,” you said, voice soft. “That you always make your bed because it’s a habit from when you served. You prefer to drive stick. You’re a cat person.” 

You held his gaze, watching the way his fingers curled. “I know that you wear two sets of dog tags. That there are ghosts following you that you don’t talk about. I know that you realised you were getting attached to me. That it scared you so badly you dropped me the moment it clicked.”

“I know that you still ask after me,” you finished, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know that deep down, you care about me.”

Silence settled between you. 

Bucky stared at his hands, dried blood caking along the ridges of his knuckles. He was still for a long time, so long you thought maybe he wasn’t going to respond at all. 

“This… this thing between us.” His voice was rough. “It was a fling. Nothing more. A moment in time, not to be repeated.”

You inhaled slowly, disappointment evident, then stood.

With an easy motion, you tossed the bloodied rag onto a nearby crate.

“Keep telling yourself that,” you murmured, stepping back.

Bucky looked up at you, something flickering behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

You just smiled.

“Because I know,” you said simply, turning toward the door, “that in the end, you’ll come crawling back to me.”

“I won’t.”

You glanced over your shoulder, the corners of your lips curling.

“Okay.”

—

The cemetery was quiet, save for the whisper of wind through bare branches and the distant hum of traffic beyond the iron gates. The last bite of winter still clung to the air, spring struggling to take hold, leaving the sky an endless stretch of pale grey.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself as you stepped out of Sam’s car, boots crunching against the gravel path. Wanda climbed out from the passenger side, rubbing her arms against the cold, while Sam exhaled sharply, tilting his head towards the small gathering of headstones up ahead.

“He’s already here,” he murmured.

Bucky stood with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his back to you, his head slightly bowed toward the grave. Even from a distance, there was a tension in the way he held himself—like he was bracing for impact or maybe just trying to keep from unravelling.

You tightened your grip on the flowers in your hand and followed Sam and Wanda towards him.

Bucky didn’t turn when you approached, but you saw his shoulders shift, the slight tensing of his jaw when he realised there was one more person than expected. He still didn’t say anything, though, just kept his eyes on the headstone.

Steve Rogers.

The name was carved deep into the stone, clean and straightforward. No rank, no medals, no accolades. Just a name. A man who had meant something to them.

You hadn’t even known Steve existed until Sam mentioned him offhand a few days ago, his voice softer than usual, the usual humour dimmed. He hadn’t given many details—just that Steve was an old friend, someone he and Bucky had served with, and that the anniversary of his death was coming up. It hadn’t been an invitation, just a passing remark, but something about it stuck with you. Maybe it was the way Sam glanced at Bucky afterwards, concern hidden beneath his easygoing demeanour or the way Wanda’s expression darkened slightly like she’d been expecting it. You didn’t know anything about the man they were mourning, but you knew Bucky, and you knew the kind of grief that sat heavily on a person’s shoulders. Maybe you wanted to pay your respects. Perhaps you just wanted an excuse to get eyes on him, to see how bad the damage was. Either way, when Wanda and Sam left for the cemetery, you were in the car with them.

You stepped forward and crouched down, laying the flowers gently against the grave. The wind tugged at the petals as you stood, moving back beside Wanda, who sent you a glance but didn’t say a word.

Sam was the first to speak. “Damn, Steve. I hope you know we visit you even in the freezing fuckin’ cold.”

A small chuckle rumbled from Bucky’s chest, barely there. “Yeah.”

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. “You know, I think about that time in training when Bucky dared you to climb the roof of the barracks, and when you actually did it, Bucky nearly had a heart attack ‘cause you realised he’d have to go up there to get you down.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head. “Idiot did a victory pose at the top. Almost fell straight off.”

Sam laughed. “Man, I wish we had taken a photo of you, dumbass.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, trading stories, some funny, some quiet and unspoken, shared only through small glances and nods. Wanda stood beside you, hands clasped in front of her, while you listened, letting them have their moment. She hadn’t known Steve either, just fragments of memories and stories Sam had told her over the years.

Eventually, the cold started to settle in deep, and Sam clapped his hands together. “Alright, I don’t know, but I think Steve would be personally offended if we froze our asses off standing here like idiots instead of heading home.”

Wanda nodded, already turning back toward the cars. You followed, but before you could take more than a few steps, Bucky spoke.

“I’ll take her home.”

The words were short, and clipped, but they made Wanda and Sam pause.

Sam lifted a brow, glancing between the two of you, then exchanged a look with Wanda, one of those unspoken conversations between lovers that didn’t need words.

But neither of them argued.

Sam just gave a small, knowing shrug and started toward his car. Wanda followed without a word, though you could’ve sworn the auburn gave you a subtle smirk.

You exhaled softly, then turned towards Bucky’s car.

The drive was quiet.

Outside, the world blurred past, fields and roads stretching under the grey sky. You kept your hands close to the vents, soaking in what little warmth the car offered, your fingers still stiff from the cold. Bucky’s grip on the wheel was tight, his knuckles pale. He was wound up, his shoulders rigid, and his jaw locked. The muscles in his forearms twitched as he shifted gears, and every so often, he exhaled sharply like he was biting back something sharp.

Minutes passed, the ghost of unspoken words swirling between you.

Then, suddenly—

“Fuck this.” Bucky muttered the words under his breath, his grip on the wheel tightening before he jerked the car off the highway. The tyres crunched over gravel as he turned onto a narrow backroad leading toward a small, empty picnic area near a river. The place was deserted, picnic tables dusted with half-melted frost. Too cold for anyone to be out.

You sat there, the hum of the engine the only sound between you. The sky outside had darkened, clouds pressing down low on the horizon as the river lazily wound its way through the mist. Bucky’s hands gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his eyes fixed on the view outside. 

“How did you know about Steve?” The question left his lips quietly, almost like an afterthought, but it was sharp all the same.

“Sam.” You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts. “I kind of put the pieces together. It’s his dog tags you wear, right?” Your voice came out soft but steady.

Bucky gave a single, sharp nod. “Yeah.”

You sighed, glancing out the window for a brief second. The weight in his voice, the way he carried it like an old wound, told you this was something fragile, something that had never quite healed.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I just…” You trailed off, the words dying on your tongue, uncertain, too small for the grief that lingered between you. Your gaze flickered to his, but he wasn’t looking at you.

His voice, when it came again, was quieter than before. “Steve... Steve, he wasn’t just my friend. He was my partner.”

Something inside you stilled. The breath you’d been meaning to take got caught in your chest. “You were… together? Dating?”

“Yeah.” His voice wavered, unsteady in a way that made your stomach twist. “We were, uh, in love, I guess.”

The words hit you like a cold gust, Something in your mind clicked into place, pieces of him you hadn’t understood suddenly making sense. You stared at him, taking in the way his brows furrowed, the way the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes seemed more pronounced now, like he’d aged in the last few minutes.

“Did Sam know?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, jaw tight. “A few people did. His family, mine. A few friends.”

“I’m sorry.” You swallowed, trying to push past the lump forming in your throat. The words felt inadequate, almost meaningless. “I know my words don’t mean much or change anything, but I truly am sorry that you lost someone that important to you.”

He didn’t reply right away. Instead, his grip tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening, the leather creaking beneath his hold. His eyes stayed locked on the river, but he wasn’t really seeing it. He was somewhere else.

Then, barely above a whisper, “He stood on a landmine.”

Bucky’s voice was rough, worn thin. “He was dead before… before he would have even realised he’d stepped on it. They never really recovered all of his body. He just kinda… turned into mist.”

You felt your stomach drop. A slow, creeping horror curled around your ribs, sinking its claws in deep. “You saw it?”

“Yeah.”

“Bucky, that’s horrific, I—”  You felt your words die in your throat. What was there to say? There was no comfort for something like that. No words that could make it hurt less.

Then, slowly, his head turned, an empty, haunted gaze meeting yours. “That coffin out there, it’s empty. We do this every year, but it’s like talking to the wind.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. You swallowed hard, your throat tight with the rawness of it. Slowly, you reached across the console, your fingers brushing against his arm. “He didn’t suffer.”

“No.” Bucky's voice broke for the first time. “No, I suppose I should be thankful for that.” A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away with a rough, almost impatient hand. But he didn’t pull away from your touch. Didn’t move to hide the way his hands shook, fingers still locked in a vice grip around the wheel.

You didn’t comment on it.

You kept your hand on his arm, a steady presence against the tension coiled beneath his skin. There was nothing to say—at least, nothing that would make any of it easier. He had already said enough, and you weren’t going to insult him by pretending there were magic words to fix it. So you simply stayed, grounding him in the quiet, hoping that maybe, just maybe, letting even a sliver of it out might lighten the weight he carried.

The silence stretched, thick but not uncomfortable, the kind that settled in the space between two people who understood each other without needing to fill the gaps with empty words. A sharp gust of wind rattled against the window, slipping through unseen cracks and sending a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t move. Neither did he.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bucky turned his head, his gaze locking onto yours, raw, searching, like he was looking for something he wasn’t even sure existed. His throat bobbed, lips parting as he exhaled a slow, uneven breath. “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, taken aback. “For what?”

“How I’ve treated you these past few weeks.”

“Baby, you don’t need to apologise—”

“No, I do.” He interrupted tone tinged with frustration. “I… I realised that I cared for you. A lot. And it scared the shit out of me. After Steve, well, I swore I wouldn’t love again. I couldn’t… I couldn’t imagine going through that again. Or worse, if I died and left someone behind like that—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not though—” he began, but you interrupted him again, your voice calm, sure.

“I forgive you.”

Bucky went still, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words. His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking between you and the river, as if weighing something in his mind.

A long, charged silence settled in. Then, just as you thought the moment would pass, he spoke, his voice quieter this time. “You’re sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.” You smiled softly. “Listen. I didn’t know Steve, and I never will but… if he cared for you. If he loved you, he’d want you to be happy. He wouldn’t want you to shut yourself away from love, from feeling.”

“Honestly…” Bucky paused, sucking on his teeth. “Honestly, you’re probably right, doll.”

Bucky let out a slow breath, staring ahead like he was trying to gather his thoughts.

“I still don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, voice quiet. “Loving someone. Letting someone love me.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head. “Good thing I’m patient.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, that much is obvious.” Bucky glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, something unreadable flickering across his expression. Then, almost too softly to hear, “I want to try.”

You reached over, lacing your fingers through his. “Then we’ll figure it out together.”

His grip tightened, just for a second like he was anchoring himself to you. And then, as if realising how ridiculous he sounded, he let out a low laugh, disbelief lacing his tone. “You’re too good for me, doll.”

“Hmm, maybe.” You giggled, leaning towards him, resting your forehead against his shoulder for a brief moment, letting the warmth between you settle. “I think I’ll stick around, though.”

“Yeah?” His voice held a tinge of uncertainty like he was testing the waters. His arm shifted, moving from the wheel to pull you closer to his side. “I haven’t scared you off?”

You tilted your head to look up at him, grinning. “I think you’d have to try a little harder to do that.”

He held you closer, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “So…” He paused, his breath hitching as if the words were caught in his throat. “Would you stick around… as my girlfriend?”

You jolted up, eyes widening in surprise. “Did the Bucky Barnes just ask me—”

“Shush, you.” He chuckled, cutting you off, his finger moving to gently press against your lips.

You smiled, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, and he tugged you in closer, his grip firm but not demanding. His lips found yours, slow at first, testing—like he was still convincing himself this was okay, that he could have this. But as you melted into him, your fingers curling against the fabric of his jacket, something shifted. His hand slid up your back, anchoring you against him, his lips warm, sure, moving against yours with a quiet intensity.

You sighed into him, your breath mingling with his, the space between you disappearing until there was nothing but the press of his body, the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin. His fingers skimmed the nape of your neck, tilting your head slightly, and he kissed you again, slower this time, savouring it like he wanted to memorise the way you felt against him.

The world outside blurred, the hum of the car engine distant, unimportant. There was only this, only him, his warmth, the quiet, desperate way he held you like he was afraid to let go.

When you pulled away, Bucky let out a sharp sigh as if something inside him had finally relaxed. “Thank god, it would be kind of awkward if you didn’t—”

You silenced him with another kiss, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

A spark reignited. 

[screampied]

do you have any gojo fic recs? sfw and nsfw but nothing else really specific, just in general <3

sure 🎀. i’ll mention some of my fav gojo works i’ve read so farr

laundry day by @satoruhour one of the first gojo fics i’ve read here when i joined tumblr and selineeeee never disappoints. her roommate! gojo is so SCRUMPTIOUS i highly recommend. miss u girlie !!!

older bf gojo! series by @sttoru READ THIS SERIES NOOWWWW. it has both sfw & nsfw n the dynamic always has me swooning. i’d also rec karina’s angst satoru fics if you like angst bc her angst is immaculate and heart wrenching. perfect combo mmh 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

brigerton! gojo series by @fushitoru VERY VERY GOOD this entire series feels like the actual show but better n its so descriptive with lots of yummy angst, plot twists n more. aashi has lots of delicious yummy works, i’d also rec her clan head! gojo and spiderman! gojo bc it’s actual literature >>>

unmistakably yours by @tonycries thisf and i think her fic called ‘initiation!’ were the first tony fics i’ve ever read last year ANDWEEEROO. just ssssoo good, love a good best friends to lovers trope. the part with his powers was so cool n actually changed something in me. GOOD FUCKING SHIT. ur panties will disintegrate

streamer gojo! series by @osaemu this entire series is so cute n streamer gojo’s so 💗💖💞. first fic i’ve read was ‘yes i have a girlfriend, yes she’s real!’ AND ITS SO CUTE. this series has both sfw & nsfw including angst YUM. plus sab’s graphics like always are a total 10. the chats always kill me, especially the toji slander 😭😭.

digimon—but making u cum is my real hobby by @blkkizzat LMAOOOO THIS FIC IS EVERYTHING TO ME. otaku gojo is such a loser and the way kali wrote him, i need him BAD. i’ve never laughed and throbbed so much at the same time in a fic. kali nails gojo’s personality perfectly !!! there’s also a mlist too i believe. i come back to this fic like every month just YUM

wolf in sheep’s clothing by @starmapz this has it all !!!! fluff, angst, smut and it’s just WOW. satoru’s so lovable, and it genuinely felt like i was watching a movie. i’ve read this in one sitting and UUUUGH everything about this fic >>>>

dying for your love by @staryukis I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED ZOMBIE! AU GOJO IN MY LIFE. this fic literally shattered me, the dynamic is just so heartbreaking. it’s set in an apocalypse au! with lots of gut-wrenching angst so beware. soso good, i remember stumbling upon the masterlist and knewww it was gonna be a good read. also, logan’s follow up fic ‘die with a smile’ broke me into two I LOVE IT

[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. 

TAGLIST:

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

[lavenderdaisychain]

Calm before the storm

18+ readers beware

(Chat I’m gonna be honest I did not proofread this, my life has been insane so I cranked it out as soon as I could. Spoilers for episode 13 of you aren’t caught up on The Pitt)

Dr. Micheal “Robby” Robinavitchxf!Dr.reader

Tags: established relationship (married), age gap (bc ofc we love to sexualize old men here), violence, gore, death, gun violence, hurt/comfort, PTSD, ptsd related episodes, panic attacks, mentions of drug use

Wc:3.8k

~Normally you and Robby both take today off, but when he gets called in you decide to take Jake and Leah to Pitt Fest, only for it to take a turn for the worse~

“What are you doing?” You hummed into your husband's neck as he tried to crawl out from under you.

“Just gotta get up honey,”

“Bullshit it’s 5:30 and we agreed to stay in today. We’re taking the kids to Pitt fest remember?” You untangled your legs from his and sat up on his lap, wiping the sleep for your eyes.

“I have to work…I don’t want to but they’re down an attending and Gloria’s already up my ass I don’t need her to be up yours too if I don’t show.”

You frowned. Everyone knew what today was, especially Gloria.

“She’s a heartless bitch.” You pouted, crossing your arms defensively. Micheal couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, he kissed you, using the kiss as a distraction to get out of bed.

“Hey!” You shouted playfully, “no distraction kisses mister!” You got out of bed and threw on whatever tee shirt you could find before trailing behind Micheal to the bathroom. Your usual morning routine was quiet today, normally the two of you would make a game plan for the day. It was about this time you’d start calling him Robby, but not today. He needed to be Micheal Robinavitch for as long as possible before being ‘Dr. Robby’ for the rest of the day.

“Here’s some coffee, we’ll be by later to get the passes so you can see us off,” You smiled warmly, passing Micheal a to-go cup and his backpack.

“Wow, my wonderful wife already had my stuff ready for me! What would I do without you?” He questioned pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Well you’re an old man so you’d probably have a hard time on your own, that’s why I’m here,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes. With another kiss and a playful slap to your ass he was gone.

Robby’s headed your way, please keep an eye on him?

Already on it.

Thank god for Dana. You silently prayed that today would be an easy day. But who were you kidding, he was walking into The Pitt, and it didn’t have that name for no reason.

——

“I could’ve picked you up!” You kicked the door to your house shut as Jake walked in, waving off his uber.

“It’s no problem really! I needed the quiet drive to calm down.” You couldn’t help but smile at Jake’s apparent nervousness. He had friends who were girls but never an actual girlfriend. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how he looked just like Robby when the two of you started to date.

“You look like Robby,” you laughed. “scared shitless, but don’t be! Leah is gonna have a great time and I get to be cheesy and third wheel!”

“Honestly I’m glad it’s just one of you and not you and Robby. You guys are so gross together!” Jake pretended to gag at the idea of you and Robby being romantic. You were just glad you could come in and be stepmom without disruption, Jake was just hitting puberty when the two of you got married but he accepted you almost immediately. He really had become not only a friend but your son.

When are you and Jake coming by? It's been a morning, Robby’s had 3 coffees before 11am.

Technically 4…..but you wouldn’t tell Dana that.

Jake just pulled up, let me change and we’ll head your way.

You changed out of your pjs into some more comfortable outdoor clothes and packed up festival essentials before heading to the hospital. You and Jake walked into what seemed to be a normal day in the Pitt, minus the obvious influx of student doctors it seemed like another day in fucked up paradise.

“Hey Jay!” Dana smiled brightly and pulled Jake into a hug, Jake always made everyone’s day brighter when he came in. You took a moment to scan the floor, your husband was nowhere to be found. You looked back to Dana to see everyone quizzing him on Leah, and giving him condoms.

“Hey! Did y’all forget his favorite step mom is third wheeling? We’re not gonna need those!” Jake’s face quickly turned red as he turned on his heel and booked it to Langdon. “So?” You questioned, walking up to Dana once she was alone.

“Well we’ve had a kid OD, a woman’s foot fully degloved after she got pushed onto train tracks, two adult children having to let their father go after putting him on a vent against his wishes, rats, the Kraken is awake and those are only the highlights.”

“And it’s only lunch!” You breathed out surprised.

“Well Mrs. Robinavitch, how nice of you to join us.”

“Not today Gloria you only get one Robinavitch!” You spun around with a tight smile plastered on your face. “I’m taking Jake to Pitt fest. My husband and I were supposed to go together but it looks like yall go busy.”

“Doctor-“ Gloria had that stern look on her face you couldn’t stand, but you spotted Robby just behind her and found your way out.

“Gloria I would love to chat about why you’re mad at me and bullshit like that but my husband needs help with a patient!” You swiftly walked past Gloria, locking your arm in with Robby’s and walking down the hall.

“Hi Honey,” Robby kissed your cheek softly, you could feel the tension in his body relax as you wrapped your arm around his waist.

“How are you?”

He let out a ragged sigh. “As fine as I can be. Myrna just hit on me again, so at least some things stay the same around here.”

You smiled softly at him before pulling him into a tight hug, having to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. He took a deep breath into your collarbone, inhaling the sweet perfume he loved.

“God I wish we were home curled up in bed.” He groaned.

“Your shift will be over before you know it.” You kissed him again.

“Gross!” Jake shrieked, interrupting your tender moment. Robby laughed, throwing his head back and kissed you again, harder. He gave your hips a tight squeeze before throwing his arm around Jake, leading him to the nurses station. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Even though Jake’s mom and Robby weren’t together, Jake was his son 100%.

“Mom wanted to know how you were doing,” Jake rubbed the back of his neck as you walked up to him in the middle of his conversation with Robby.

“Well that’s very sweet of her. Again, I really am sorry about missing Pitt Fest but you’ll have fun with the girls.” Robby smiled, putting 3 carded lanyards in Jake’s hand.

“You still free for Basketball Sunday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Robby pulled Jake into a tight hug. “Hey when am I gonna meet this girl? I’m kind of pissed your stepmom gets to meet her before I do.”

“Soon I promise! But hopefully not too soon, everyone’s been weirding me out giving me their advice….and condoms.”

“Wait.” Robby turned to fully face Jake “are you having sex?”

You ran up and kissed Robby’s cheek before grabbing Jake and leaving. “Bye we’ll send pics!”

—

You and Jake walked up to the security entrance for Pitt Fest, standing at the side of the entrance was a tall girl with long golden brown hair, she smiled when she saw Jake.

“Oh she’s cute!”

“Please don’t embarrass me.” Jake sighed, but smiled back at Leah, his cheeks warm.

“Hey Jake!” Leah hugged Jake tightly, she smiled at you shyly when she pulled away. “Hi Mrs. Robinavitch, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Call me Honey please, or Robin, everyone does.” You hugged her. “I’m glad to finally meet the person who’s been making Jake so happy!”

You decided to keep your distance and let the kids have their time as you walked around the festival, some of the artists were still setting up but there was plenty of food, art and shopping to enjoy. But your mind was other places. Specifically worrying about Robby. He looked worn out when you saw him. He had clearly been agitated and was covering it up, but you knew that eventually it would spill over.

The kids are having fun, Leah is a nice girl. I can’t wait for you to meet her! Miss you, love you, don’t forget to breathe.

You knew he wouldn’t see or reply to it immediately but it was there when he would need it.

Before you even realized it a few hours had past, you smiled listening to Leah and Jake rant and rave about their favorite artists, arguing over songs, albums and music theories. You had truly never seen him this happy around a girl and it made your heart swell.

Until the shots started.

You’d lived in the city, and been around guns enough growing up to know what gunfire sounded like.

“Jake, Leah, stay close.” You warned the giggling kids, trying to lead them away from the stage you were currently occupying.

“What’s going on?”

Before you could answer Jake chaos broke out. Masses of people screaming and crying, all headed your way. You grabbed Jake and Leah and ran with the crowd, trying to spot where the gunfire was coming from as people started to drop like flies.

You needed a place to hide. Or make it to the entrance as fast as possible. In the chaos a man knocked you down, separating you from the kids.

“Goddamnit!” You cursed, curling up in a ball to protect yourself from the herd of people running above. When you found your moment you pushed yourself up, scanning the lawn for Jake and Leah.

And then you saw them.

Jake was crouched over the top of Leah, the grass turning a shade of crimson underneath her.

“Jake!” You ran to them and collapsed next to him. “Are you hurt?” He shook his head, looking down at Leah. It didn’t look good.

“I-I - the bullets came out of nowhere” Jake choked out.

“Listen to me. Run to the entrance as fast as you can, don’t look back, don’t stop to help anyone,” you gripped Jake’s shoulders tightly to ground him to what you were saying. “Flag down any EMT you can find and tell them I’m coming with a female with a GSW to the chest. Can you do that?”

Jake nodded, you kissed his forehead and when the lawn was clear he bolted.

“Leah? Baby can you hear me?” You put a finger to her pulse, it was ragged, she was loosing a lot of blood. Jake had taken his jacket off and was using it to put pressure to the wound. You ripped your belt off and did the best you could to assemble a makeshift tourniquet. Leah mumbled something about how it hurt, her skin turning glossy. “It’s gonna hurt like hell but you’re gonna be okay.”

“W-where’s Jake?”

“Getting help, we’re going to meet him. Hold on tight.” You picked Leah up bridal style and bolted for the entrance. The screaming, crying and constant gunfire would’ve sent anyone into a frenzy, even you. But not today, today you had people who depended on you. Jake stood at the entrance with Logan, a paramedic you knew.

“Her name is Leah Fisher, one GSW to the chest. The bullet didn’t go all the way so there’s probable internal and external bleeding. She’s losing a lot of blood. I made a tourniquet with my belt but she needs blood now and blood when she gets to the hospital.” You turned from Logan to Jake. “Jake. Keep her awake. I love you.” You hugged him tightly.

“Where are you going?”

“To help. There’s people down that aren’t dead yet, we need to save as many people as we can.” And with that, you ran back into the chaos.

-The Pitt

The ER was chaos,different triage points were color coordinated in different parts of the ER to try and keep some form of control. The night shift had been called in early with the influx of bodies. Robby had tried to call you and Jake multiple times when he first heard about the shooting but neither of you had answered, your last text kept flashing in his mind.

The kids are having fun, Leah is a nice girl. Miss you, love you, don’t forget to breathe.

Don’t forget to breathe. The day was already wearing on him. He’d already lost too many people, but they were saving a lot of people too. He had to remember that. Robby would never admit to anyone that he almost broke when Jack Abbot walked in.

He stood in front of the ER staff, day and night shift and immediately went into action walking them through combat medicine. The entire ER would have to become one steady unit if they were going to make it through the night. Once Jack finished prepping everyone the bodies started rolling in.

Robby helped bounce from patient to patient. So far their survival rate was 1 in 3….wasn’t looking good. His armour was starting to crack, only Abbott, Langdon and Dana could see it. So they floated what they could.

Robby was about to throw Langdon out of the hospital from their previous conversation when Leah and Jake rolled in.

“Jake?!” Robby ran to Jake as one of the nurses assessed Leah. “Are you hurt?”

“Um. Ya my leg, but I think it went all the way through. Is Leah going to be okay? I put pressure on her chest the whole time, mom even made a tie with her belt.”

“Wait.” Robby looked up to see you weren’t with the kids. “Where is she? Your stepmom?”

“She went back.”

Robby cursed under his breath. Of course you were going to be selfless and go back in to help as soon as you knew your kids were in good hands. Robby passed Jake off to a nurse promising to do the best he could and went back to work on Leah.

It was bad. They all knew she wasn’t going to make it but Robby tried anyways. Intubate. Chest compressions. Push O-neg.

“Open another line for FFP and platelets!” Robby shouted.

“Are you sure?” Dana questioned. All Robby had to do was shoot her a look before she did exactly what he asked. Robby switched with the nurse to do chest compressions but every pulse check was the same. Nothing. But Robby refused to let her die.

He pushed as much blood as they could spare before Jack came up next to him.

“The bullet tore through her heart.”

“I know.”

“This isn’t part of our mass casualty plan brother. You might have to let her go.”

Robby could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t lose another patient. Not this patient. He continued another round of compressions, stopping when the final pulse check was still no Carotid and no femoral.

“Do you want me to go with you to talk with Jake?” Abbot asked, placing a hand on Robby’s shoulder.

“No, no I’ll do it.”

The conversation with Jake did not go well, Leah’s death was the final crack in Robby’s armour and Jake’s understandably upset reaction to her death sent Robby into a full blown breakdown. He curled up in the corner of the press room and let out everything that had been building up from the moment he clocked in. The sobs tore through him violently, all he could do was curl into himself hoping they would stop. Everything leading to this moment, every bad memory, every patient he couldn’t save, every person he let down, over looked, it was all coming to a head in this moment. He’d been holding this panic attack in since he clocked in and it steamrolled into a full on breakdown.

He clenched his shaking hands together as he tried to breathe, people needed him. His patients, his students, his son. You were out there somewhere helping people in the middle of the storm, he had to control it, but he didn’t want to. Robby didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, minutes? hours? A knock on the door snapped him out of it.

“Robby…” Dana’s voice was gentle but it held a sense of urgency.

“She’s here. It’s bad.”

—

“Female, 30’s, multiple GSWs, one to her hip, one to her lower left abdomen. She was conscious on the ride over but we lost her transferring from the gurney to the bed” An EMT shouted over your head, Jack was the one to receive you, a look of fear washed over him.

“Hey, honey can you hear me?” He rubbed your chest with his knuckles. “I need you to wake up.” His tone was clinical, he had to set his emotions aside. “Get a crash cart! Charge it to 200!”

Mateo ran over with a crash cart, setting the pads up, it only took one shock to bring you back. Your eyes shot open as you tried to sit up immediately.

“Sarah?! Sarah!!”

“Who’s sarah?” Jack asked, fighting to lay you back down despite your injuries.

“Jack Rabbit!! Sh-she’s a little girl, I had her with me. I was getting her back to her mom and dad-“ your heart rate spiked, you were distraught. “Sarah!”

“She’s fine,” Logan, the paramedic who brought you in, ran over to your bed. “As soon as we pulled up to PTMC her parents were waiting. She’s just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You sobbed. Robby ran to you as Jack laid you down.

“Pupils are reactive to light, but it looks like she might have a head injury,” one of the nurses shouted over your head, causing you to wince. She lightly pressed your face looking for facial fractures but thankfully you’d covered it well enough from the stampede.

“Her pulse is thready, could be adrenaline, could be something else.” Jack spoke low to Robby. He nodded.

“Hey sweetheart, let’s get you checked out.” They stripped you down to get a look at both wounds. Robby grimaced at the bruises you were covered in, you had cracked at least 2 or 3 ribs when you’d been stomped.

The shot to your abdomen looked clean through and through with minimal bleeding, but there was no exit wound to your hip.

“Let’s see if we can stop the bleeding to her abdomen then we’ll worry about the hip I need gauze!” Nurses worked to stop the bleeding on both sides, Robby took a stethoscope and placed it on your stomach to listen to your breathing, it was getting clearer.

“Her abdomen isn’t distended, there’s only slight tenderness around the wound but nothing to suggest a peritonitis or a peritoneal hemorrhage. Let’s stitch her up and push O Neg.”

You were beginning to fall in and out of consciousness, only catching bits and pieces of what everyone was saying. You knew Jack and Robby were there, but eventually you succumbed to the darkness.

—

You woke up to the sound of the organized chaos you were used to hearing in the Pitt, a heart monitor beeped steadily above you and you became aware of the oxygen hose in your nose. Your whole body hurt. You began to remember why you were laying in a hospital bed, there was a shooter at Pitt Fest.

“Jake??” you tried to move suddenly but your body screamed in retaliation. You looked around the room, your eyes falling on Robby, curled up in an arm chair next to you. Even while sleeping he looked tired, the bags around his eyes darker than usual. His stress lines were set deep. This was not how today was supposed to go. He was still in his bloodied scrubs, once blue were now a shade of muddied purple. Jake was nowhere to be seen, making your heart rate spike.

“Hey honey, he’s with Leah’s family.” Jack leaned against the door frame, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh. Oh poor baby.” You sighed. Truth be told you knew when you ran with Leah to the paramedic she wasn’t going to make it. But you had to try.

“You had us all worried sick you know, coming in battered like that.”

“I had to do something. I left the kids in the best possible hands…that little girl would’ve died if I hadn’t gone back.”

Jack ran his hand over his face and pushed off from the door frame, taking a seat on your bed.

“You’re abdomen is going to be sore for a while, but the shot was clean. The bullet in your hip fractured, we were able to stabilize the bone but you’re going to have to keep the pins in it and do physical therapy. You’ll be able to come back to work, when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly. “How’s it going out there?”

“We’re a little calmer now, it’s been a few hours….” He wanted to say something, you could see it in his eyes. “Robby broke. Just before you came in. Dana said he was curled up in the peds room when she went to find him she didn’t even recognize him. He disappeared after we got you stable and…I had to drag him off of the roof.”

Your eyes widened, the only thing you could do was let out a horrified gasp. You knew when you woke up this morning he should’ve stayed, you should’ve been here with him. No. No, the people you helped today needed you.

“Thank you Jack Rabbit. For holding him together when I couldn’t.” He smiled at the use of your nickname. You looked over at your husband “Robby?” Your voice was low, gentle, but enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes widened at the sight of you and he moved to your bed immediately.

“Hey..” he whispered, scared to touch you. Jack squeezed your hand and left to get back to work.

“Hi, I’m okay.” You were firm. It wasn’t up for debate. You were here, you were alive. Robby’s eyes brimmed with tears, you held his face as wipes them as they fell. “Hey, hey I’m okay Robby I mean it.”

Robby held you as tightly as he could without bringing you any pain, your perfume was long gone but if he tried hard enough he could still smell it. You could feel tears land on your collarbone but you didn’t utter a word, instead you rubbed small circles into his back, humming softly to comfort him. You held him for a while until there was a soft knock at your door, your eyes shot up and met with Jake’s, red rimmed and glossy. You patted the other side of the bed and he practically ran to you, throwing his arms around you and Robby.

You comforted your boys as they cried together, silent tears falling from your eyes. The night was far from over, but for now you were alive, and together.

And that was all that mattered.

an: oh em gee. I have been The Pitt obsessed and Noah Wyle really blew me away last week I can’t wait for Thursday. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a week and I finally got time to sit down and write!! Lmk if yall like this and I’ll see what other ideas I can crank out! Xoxo

@ebodebo @sceletaflores @yuenity

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH12

You wake up in bed with Mommy and Daddy, witnessing something very special and ultimately very overwhelming...

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Shared bed. Accidental voyeurism. Vaginal sex. Fluff. Frottage. Face-sitting. Cunnilingus. Overstimulation. Anxiety attack. Hurt/comfort. Little girl treatment. More fluff. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 7.5k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: ADDITIONAL WARNING: There will be a heavy dose of Angst after the smut of the first half of the chapter. Beware. But don't worry, it'll end in comfort. This is a fluffy story after all. RECAP: Reader (we call her Pumpkin) is in her 20s, has hair and female genitalia, suffers from depression and anxiety, and has agreed to become the little girl/submissive to a couple she's supposed to call Mommy and Daddy, who are in their early/late thirties.

Chapter 11 🔷️ Chapter 12 🔷️

You woke up to a slight bounce to the bed, soft breaths in your ear, and a rhythmic slapping of some sort. Blinking your eyes open, you realized you were curled up, snuggled against a warm torso, a big hand resting on your hip, and the first thing you saw was Mommy.

She was straddling Daddy, sitting upright, her body arched and undulating, head tilted up, long hair cascading down her back, her breasts jiggling sensually with every up and down motion. For a moment you were mesmerized, wondering if you were dreaming.

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” you then heard Daddy's soft voice, and you uncurled a little to raise your head. He was smiling at you when you met his gaze, the dim light of the bedside table lamp casting deep shadows onto his face. “Hey pumpkin. Slept well?”

Why was he so casual while Mommy was riding him? Then again, she looked so relaxed while doing so, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, the way she moved on top of him looked almost like a dance. Lascivious waves to her body, her hips grinding into him, arms propped up behind her, holding onto his knees. You stared at her, at her smooth mound swallowing up Daddy's cock with every downward slam of her pelvis.

You felt your own cunt clenching at the sight, it might have been the most erotic thing you'd ever seen. After whatever happened in the shower last night.

Daddy's hand rubbed over your side, a gentle pressure, warmth, a soothing touch, and you snuggled closer to him until he pulled you up and against him even more, so your breasts were squished against his shoulder, your face almost in line with his. You turned your head to him, finding him watching you instead of the woman riding his cock.

“You okay?” he whispered. You nodded, biting your bottom lip as you looked back at Mommy, your eyes raking along Daddy's body as you did so. He just lay there, relaxed, unmoving, letting her do her thing, there was just the tiniest twitch to his abdomen every time Mommy's hips slammed into his.

The longer you watched Mommy the more the frown on your face deepened. “Is she asleep?” you murmured quietly.

A little chuckle rolled through Daddy's chest. “No, well, not really. She can fuck herself into a trance sometimes. Where she's completely lost in the pleasure of it. She does that sometimes, mostly at night. It's a nice view though, isn't it? And a nice thing to wake up to...”

His arm curled around your shoulders, his hand gently caressing your cheek as he looked at you. You pried your eyes away from Mommy's undulating body to look into his handsome face. Heat flooded your own at the sight. He nudged your chin, and you leaned in more, brushing your nose against his beard, inhaling deeply. Your hand snaked up his chest when you shifted against him.

He hummed softly when your lips met his, then gave a hungry little growl when he pulled you closer, grabbing your chin, guiding the kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let his tongue into your mouth, your own movements still sleepier than you anticipated. His other hand came forth and grabbed your arm, pulling you up a little to allow his lips to wander along your jaw, down your neck, teasing at your pulse before he started sucking at your collarbone.

You squirmed a little, breathing harder, your lips tingling, your body waking up more and more under his ministrations. He was still mostly flat on his back, head lifted by a pillow (while Mommy was still grinding against him, her movements slower, a sensual dance on top of his cock), and when he pulled you closer, you were almost kneeling by his side, bending over, your breasts in line with his face. Your hand found his shoulder to steady yourself as you looked down at him, your chest rising and falling faster.

Before you could do or say anything, you felt his warm lips brushing between your soft mounds, peppering the small slopes with kisses, his beard tickling your skin, an unfamiliar sensation that sent shivers down your spine, a gentle tension building up in your core. You watched him with your cheeks burning up, how he closed his eyes and focused solely on your breasts, lips rubbing, teeth teasing, tongue licking, and when he eventually sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, you keened quietly, arching your back to press your chest firmer into his face.

He held you tighter, his tongue flicking against your pert bud, as he kept suckling softly, little groans slipping past his lips. It was a mesmerizing sight and an even more intriguing feeling, made even better when he moved one of his big hands to pay attention to your other breast, gentle gropes and deep kneading, his palm scraping over your hard nipple before he rolled it between his fingers, pinching it slightly.

You shivered under the ministrations, leaning into him, your eyes getting heavy even though you wanted to keep watching him, as well as Mommy undulating against his hips, her breasts swaying so tantalizingly with every movement. You couldn't even describe how you felt about this unusual scene, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced before. It was warm and comforting, Daddy's mouth on your breast, Mommy's trance-like show, three bodies melting into one. Your head was completely empty, and it felt so, so good.

Inhaling deeply, you pushed your chest into Daddy's face, and he let go of your nipple with a wet pop, looking up at you with a soft smile, licking his lips. You smiled back shyly, one of your hands moving up to brush a stray lock of his hair out of his forehead. He was so handsome, so gentle looking, so warm. His eyes remained on you as he leaned in to close his lips around the other breast, giving it the same treatment, tongue swirling around your nipple, teeth grazing your soft skin, your flesh sucked into his mouth.

You moaned softly, holding his gaze, your fingers slipping deeper into his hair. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. It felt like a dream. So soft, relaxing, but at the same time it fueled the fire burning low in your guts, making your unattended core clench. Suddenly you had the idea to move your hand down between your legs and take care of it yourself, but that little ounce of shame still lingering in the back of your mind kept you from doing so.

It was one thing to let things happen, let Daddy suckle on your boobs, to have Mommy put her fingers into your cunt, to curl your hand around Daddy's cock guided by his own, but to do something all by yourself, with yourself, it didn't feel right. And like Daddy said, it was his and Mommy's job to bring you pleasure, and you were okay with that. It got easier and easier to turn your brain off and focus on them.

And luckily, they focused on you just the same, reading you and your emotions as if they'd known you for way longer. You only had to meet Daddy's gaze as he teased your pert nipple with his tongue before he leaned back, hooking his hand under your thigh.

“Come sit on me, pumpkin,” he whispered, nudging your leg. You blinked at him, a little dazed, then looked back to Mommy, only to find her sitting still on Daddy's cock, watching you with a soft smile.

You weren't completely sure what they wanted to do, and you were confused by the set-up, but you still moved one of your legs over Daddy's torso and gingerly sat down on his stomach, leaning more on your knees to keep your weight off him. Mommy moved behind you, her hands snaking around your sides until she grabbed your breasts, continuing what Daddy had started.

His fingers inched up your thighs, rubbing gentle circles, his large hands spanning over your legs, until he grabbed your waist and pushed you down more, so you sat fully on his hard body, your legs spread wide, and naked as you were, your cunt was on full display to him.

But somehow you didn't mind, didn't feel the usual sting of shame. You were mesmerized by his dark eyes, by how gentle Mommy was massaging your breasts, how his warmth seeped into your body, making your clit tingle and your core clench.

He held you tightly, making it impossible to move away, but you didn't want to anyway. Behind you, Mommy started grinding into Daddy again, her hands on your breasts used as leverage as you felt her bouncing up and down, her body arched into yours, her legs bracketed around your own, her hard nipples brushing along your back, sending cold shivers down your spine. You let them move you, Mommy rubbing against you, Daddy guiding your hips to make you rub against him.

You felt his shifting muscles against your labia, your clit catching on the ridges of his abdomen with every backwards push. Your head was spinning, Mommy's moans loud in your ear, those lewd sounds of slapping skin and squelching wetness surrounding you like a warm cloud that slowly seeped into your skin, silencing anything else.

“Go... sit on... Daddy's face... mi amor,” Mommy breathed behind you, her rough bouncing and grinding getting to her, her fingers now really digging into your breasts. Her words didn't make sense to you, so you looked at Daddy, who had shifted beneath you slightly, watching you with an intensity in his eyes that made you even more dizzy.

“You heard her, pumpkin,” he said quietly. “Come on, it's okay, come closer.” With his hands still on your waist, he pulled you towards him, up on his chest. Mommy let go of you, her fingers brushing against your back, giving you a gentle nudge.

“I... I don't know...” you murmured, awkwardly hovering over him, your cunt already so close to his face the shame simmering inside you burnt up after all.

“It's okay,” he soothed, his hands moving around your rear. “Sit up, place your knees on either side of my head and sit down. I want to taste you, pumpkin, make you feel good.”

“But... I... I don't want to... hurt you...” you gasped as you nonetheless followed his instructions. “Can you... still breathe... when I do this?”

He laughed softly, arranging you on top of him, his arms curling around your legs, hands holding you open. “I will, don't worry. You won't hurt me.”

And then he pulled you down, your cunt pressing right against his mouth, his nose prodding your clit, and his beard... You moaned softly as the tickling sensation crashed over you like a wave of ice-cold water, pebbling your skin, your entire body shivering under the experience. For a moment he leaned into it, rubbing his facial hair along your inner thighs, left and right, then back against your labia, those soft scratching sounds only adding to the tension in your lower body.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of the bed, looking down at what he was doing, trying to keep it together with your heart racing and pleasure fighting with embarrassment. But as soon as his tongue dipped between your lower lips, you lost it, the warmth of his breath and touch sending shock waves straight into your core, drowning out anything else.

“Oh God,” you gasped out, unconsciously bucking your hips into his face. He groaned against you, his low voice a deep vibration through your body that enhanced the overall feeling of beautiful weightlessness.

“Call me Daddy,” he muttered against you, and you were sure you could feel him smirking as he pressed his face firmer against your cunt.

Somewhere behind you, you heard an exasperated snicker. You had no idea what Mommy was doing at this point, and frankly, you didn't care, as long as Daddy kept his attention on sucking and licking and nibbling at your center. That was all you could focus on, how his tongue moved along your slit, lapping up your wetness, his lips brushing against your soft skin, his nose poking at your clit, and the constant prickle of his beard an added bonus to it all.

You felt your arms shaking from how you clenched your hands around the metal frame, your thighs twitching against his face, the need to close them growing stronger, but his hands kept them wide open, a bruising grip, but without it you probably would have suffocated him by now.

Little whines and mewls escaped you as you threw your head back, lips parted, eyes rolling back, your body aflame with tingling sensations that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to function. Whatever he was doing, he was doing so well, you never wanted him to stop. It felt like nothing you'd felt before, different from that random girl eating your cunt in the cafe, different from Mommy burying her face between your legs in the shower, it might have been the beard, but also the way he moved his tongue.

You had no idea that muscle could even do whatever he was doing, but you felt it, somehow, dipping deep between your clenching walls, licking as far as he could reach, his mouth practically suctioned to your weeping hole. And while you should have been mortified at the notion, you weren't, you were enjoying it, leaning into it, bucking more and more desperately against his face, wanting more.

And he gave you more, quickening the swipes of his tongue, nudging his nose harder into your clit, turning his head slightly to rub his beard against your skin. You were writhing, panting on top of him, humping his face like you'd humped his groin before. His hands dug into your legs, battling the increasingly wilder twitching of your thighs, but it all exploded when he tilted his head and focused all his attention on your throbbing clit.

Suddenly his mouth was on it, tongue flicking, licking, prodding, and he was sucking, hard, harder, and you wailed, convulsing against him, barely able to stay upright. Only a few seconds later and you came, spasming, crying out, hips stuttering, lights dancing behind your eyelids. It was like a punch to the gut, a sudden shock, a scorching wave that slowly spread through your entire body, tingling and thrumming all the way into your curling toes.

He held you and kept lapping at your slit, slowly easing you down. And you were boneless, a heap of limbs on top of him, eyes closed, mouth open, not caring about the bit of drool dripping down your chin. Somehow he moved you away from his face, made you lie down on his chest, your head nestled against his, his hand on your cheek, turning it, his lips, covered in your juices, brushing against yours.

“My good girl,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around your shivering body. “So sweet, so beautiful...”

With how you slid down his torso, your rear was bumping into where Mommy was still sitting on Daddy's cock. You'd think (if you could) she would be annoyed by how you snaked your way into her special time with Daddy (though it had been her idea, hadn't it?), but she had waited, seemingly, watching you come undone, for now she was moving again, her hands holding onto your waist, as she started grinding once more.

Daddy groaned into your ear, cuddling you as Mommy rode him, and her rhythmic bounces and the steady snaps of her hips made you feel as if you were being fucked as well. But you were just a pile of flesh and bones, wild hair all around you, unable to move, your core still throbbing from the orgasm Daddy had licked out of you.

As Mommy's noises grew louder, you felt him bucking his hips up, moving with her, a wild dance on the bed, a tango of limbs, bucking, bouncing, grinding, slamming, up and down, back and forth, their movements faster and harder, and you felt them all, like echoes undulating through your body. You wished you could watch them from a better angle, see their bodies shift against each other, see how Daddy's cock pummeled Mommy's cunt, see his muscles shifting and her boobs bounce.

But you could imagine it, and it was enough to make you whimper softly as they finally reached their climaxes, Mommy first, moaning out loudly, her last slam down onto Daddy's hips making him spasm and grunt, and he held you tighter as he shivered, his pelvis jerking up against you and Mommy as he emptied his balls into her.

One day, you hoped, he'd do the same to you.

Mommy eased her death grip on your waist and leaned in, shifting on top of Daddy before she lay down on your back, fully sandwiching you between her soft breasts and Daddy's hard body. He opened his arms and invited her in too, holding you both, a pile of warm bodies, all of you breathing harder, hearts beating rapidly against each other.

Inhaling deeply, filling your nostrils with the scent of sex, you snuggled against them, a soft smile grazing your lips as you felt yourself drifting into the pleasant void of sleep, a last half-baked thought in your empty mind:

This is your life now. Days and weeks and months of this with Mommy and Daddy and you. And it will be a good life.

That thought didn't quite make it through the depths of your dreams, though. When you woke up, you felt heavy, and cold. You were alone in the large bed, you could tell. Snuggled into the covers, but it was still cold. And then, as sudden as a lightning bolt hitting a tree with all of its destructive force, the doubts came crashing back as you remembered what happened last night. The days before. Ever since you agreed to live here.

It had been too much.

You knew you were supposed to be distracted by it all, but your mind was never fully empty, maybe in the moment, but as soon as you got back into the clear thinking stage, the darkness crept up again. Between wanting things you shouldn't want and the crippling inability to ask for anything and knowing you didn't deserve any of it anyway, you found yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, and in the end the biggest emotion was shame.

The things you did, the things you saw, the things that happened. It was wrong (it felt right), no, it was wrong! You barely knew these people but they'd seen parts of you, sides of you, moments of you, that you would have never shared with anyone like this, hadn't shared with anyone in a very long time. Why would anyone want to see that? What was wrong with them for accepting you so easily? What did they really want from you?

You were probably just a body to them, a means to get off, to fulfill their sick little dreams with sick little games. They didn't care about you. You were a toy to play with, a doll to dress, a puppet to manipulate. Nothing more. You couldn't be. And why would you deserve to be treated like anything more? You were a failure, deep down you knew that, and your mind kept reminding you as well, whenever it got the chance, and no hug, no kiss, no gentle word could change that.

There was no comfort in letting it happen.

You were deep in thought, sniffling pathetically under the covers, curled up into a ball, shivering under the weight of your anxiety, when you felt a warm hand on your hip, a soft voice following the touch.

“Wake up, pumpkin,” you heard Daddy say. No. Noah. The man's name was Noah, you shouldn't call him Daddy. He was just another man that slipped through your life, only to leave again, like all those men your mother dragged into your home. Like your own father who left you when things got too stressful.

You held your breath, pretending to be asleep. He only shook you more, gentle but firm, until he dug a hand into the covers and tried to pull them away. You whined out when he did, and he stopped, the mattress dipping when he sat down beside you.

“What's wrong, baby girl?” he whispered, his hand still on your side, warm and somewhat comforting, but also burning and teetering on the edge of irritating. You couldn't decide. It was too much. “Are you in pain?” he asked, and you swallowed hard, burying your wet face in the pillow.

You couldn't even describe how you felt, it was as if you were caught in a dark room and somehow the walls kept closing in on you, making it harder and harder to breathe.

“Baby, talk to me,” he kept going, his voice a low drone at the edge of your hearing, present but also not. “Pumpkin...” His hands tried again to reach you in your cocoon of blankets. You felt them warm and strong, as they slipped around your arms, slowly pulling you up and out.

But you curled up more, trying to get away from him, not even feeling the hot tears as they spilled over your lashes. Your heart was racing, your entire body shivering, feeling cold and tingly, your face was particularly numb.

“You gotta tell me what's wrong, baby, or I can't make it better...” He didn't give up, kept his hands on you, rubbed over your arms, your sides, your legs, but the touch couldn't get rid of the chill settling under your skin.

You couldn't tell him what was wrong, you had no words for it, and the worst thing: you couldn't look at him. Not into the face that had been between your legs, so intimate, so close. It had felt good, but looking back you were so embarrassed, how could you ever look at him again? At this handsome man who for some reason wouldn't leave you alone...

And then he pulled you up and into his arms, you were just a bundle of limbs and hair, covered in tears and cold sweat, but as soon as he pressed you to his chest, settled you on his lap, his arms tight around you, you could breathe a bit better again, only just, but more than before.

You rasped against him, unable to fight, at least not him, but you did try to push those clouds away, more and more, the longer you felt his warmth and strength, his breath on your neck as he curled in with you, holding you, one hand on the back of your head, the other heavy on your lower back, arms crossed over your shaking body.

He hummed against you, shushing your stifled sobs, gently rocking you back and forth, and the motion calmed you, his closeness eased the shudders, your mind turned the volume of those nagging thoughts down; they didn't disappear, but they were pushed into the back again, slowly, bit by bit. And you could breathe, in and out, a deep inhale, his scent filling your nostrils, a familiar and relaxing scent, then a long exhale, letting out all the darkness, breathing it right into his shirt.

You didn't know how long he sat with you like that, but eventually you had calmed down enough to tilt your head and sneak a peek at his face, through your blurry vision, but you could still see the soft smile on his face, the gentle twinkle in his dark eyes, the hint of a dimple on his bearded cheek. You snuggled into him, leaning your cheek against his shoulder, looking up, forcing yourself to find solace in the way he looked at you.

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You're alright, pumpkin,” he whispered, his low voice a gentle hum through your head. “Everything will be just fine. Daddy's got you.”

His soothing words should have done just that, soothe you, but instead you felt another wave of dread. Daddy. The name echoed through your head, bounced around like something pointy, poking painfully at your mushy brain. It was wrong.

And you wondered how you could have called him that before, how easy it had been to repeat. It shouldn't have been. You had been overwhelmed and confused, in a different way than you were now, you had clung to that name as if it had been a lifesaving anchor, but now the same anchor weighed you down more and more, and with another sob, you buried your face in his chest, hiding away.

“Oh baby girl,” he cooed softly, a sigh leaving his lips. He waited another moment, just holding you, letting you sob and cry into his shirt, your body trembling against his, wrecked by anxiety-fueled twitches that made your toes and fingers tingle, in the bad way. And in the midst of your struggles, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you away.

You didn't know where to, you couldn't see anything with how you had pressed your face to his chest, and somehow you didn't care either, you just... let it happen. He walked for quite a bit, before he finally set you down, his hands holding you, shifting your hips, moving along your sides, making you sit up straighter, before they cupped your face and tilted your head up, urging you to look at him.

You blinked your eyes into focus, feeling cold and numb and lifeless, a wobble to your lips that he tried to rub away with his thumbs. “Come back to me, pumpkin,” he whispered, bringing his face closer to yours, his warm breath ghosting your wet skin. “I know you can. Focus on me, okay? Look at me,” he added as your eyes wandered to the side, only to snap back to his when he asked for it (demanded it). You blinked, more tears rolling down your cheeks, caught by his large hands.

You inhaled deeply, watching him, slowly getting lost in his dark eyes, worry etched around them, deep creases lining his forehead. You focused on him, noticing the short dark lashes, the thick eyebrows, the slant of them, the straight nose, his lips (warm lips, brushing against yours, kissing you softly), the way his beard filled out the rest of his face, spanning over his strong jaw, thick but trimmed, a few lighter hairs between the dark ones, thicker above his upper lip, not as thick and filled out under his bottom lip, letting his tanned skin shine through, smoother down his neck, shaved (the scratch of it against your inner thighs, the roughness under your fingertips, the tingles it created).

You took another deep breath, looking back up into his eyes, your tears drying under your own the longer you stared at him, unblinking. The creases on his face shifted, forehead relaxing, little crow's feet appearing in the corners of his eyes as his lips morphed into a smile. You felt your own twitching, numb as they were, but the blood pooled back into them, into your cheeks, slowly fighting the chills under your skin.

One more long inhale, filling out the last inches of your lungs, your chest rising, until the tingles vanished. Your fingers itched, curling and straightening on your legs (naked legs, naked everything, completely bare in front of him). He stood before you (fully clothed), your knees pointed to the side, thighs clenched together, stomach fluttering. His hands moved from your warm face down your shoulders, along your arms, before they rested beside you, the hint of them, warmth radiating off them, next to your hips.

You closed your eyes, breathed in and out, in and out, then opened them again. He was still smiling at you. So warm, gentle, caring. He cared. He had to. Why else would he take his precious time and spend it trying to calm you down? He cared about you. It didn't matter that you barely knew him, that he barely knew you. He cared, and you wanted him to care. Wanted him to touch you, hug you, hold you, kiss you, fuck you...

You almost choked on your own spit as you looked away quickly, blinking the last tears away. You were tempted to roll your eyes at yourself, at the way your mind went from EVERYTHING IS BAD AND NOBODY LIKES YOU to OMG I NEED HIM TO FUCK MY BRAINS OUT. It was ridiculous. But it was better than sulking and sobbing and drowning in your own darkness. You heaved a deep sigh, cleared your throat, looked back at him.

Amusement curled his lips, twinkled in his eyes. He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You're back,” he simply said, and you were glad he didn't ask you if you were okay or what happened, you couldn't have answered him. But you could make the corner of your lips rise a little, and it was enough for him to lean down and press his lips to your smirk.

Then he moved back and opened the cabinet behind the mirror. You realized that you were sitting on the vanity of a bathroom, your bathroom, because he was pulling out your toothbrush, the pink one they had given you on your first day. You watched him put it under the running water of the faucet, then put toothpaste on it and put it under the water again. Turning it off, he braced his arm next to you and held the toothbrush closer.

“Open up,” he said, tilting his head.

You frowned, but opened your mouth. And then he started brushing your teeth, holding your jaw to move your head, applying a little too much pressure, but that wasn't what irked you.

“Ca' do'it 'yself,” you tried to voice past the foamy stick in your mouth.

He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Can you?” he asked.

You felt your cheeks burning up badly. A few remaining doubts came back. Of course you can't, you're useless, let him do it if he wants to. But then you nodded, staring at him, ignoring the voices.

And he smiled, nodded as well, and pulled your hand up to let you grab the toothbrush. You continued moving it over your teeth, watching him as he watched you.

“Good girl, of course you can,” he said, rubbing your warm cheek before he stepped away. He left the bathroom then, left you to your own devices, and you focused on brushing your teeth, a mundane task but it helped you in pushing those thoughts away again.

Once you were done, you hopped off the vanity, spit into the sink and cleaned the brush and your mouth with water. Putting it back (having to lean on your toes to reach the cabinet), you then turned to the open door, watching him rummage through your closet. Before you could follow him into your bedroom, he came back with a bunch of clothes draped over his arm.

He put them onto a towel rack next to the vanity, giving you a long look. You felt warm, a few cold shivers crashing down your limbs, exposed as you were. He grinned at you, then stepped in and grabbed your waist, easily putting you back on the counter. You didn't protest.

But you started squirming after he'd put these white frilly socks on your feet (the ones you'd never have worn on your own, too girly, too childish almost, but he seemed to like them). It was when he pulled a pair of white panties up your legs (cute ones, with pink bows and ribbons on them), and you had to lift your hips to allow him to pull them on fully, that you froze up, stiffened, parted your lips to say something to make him stop.

He did stop, in a way, grabbed your waist again, set you down on the cold tiles. Pulling your panties up all the way, he paused again, his large hands on your hips as he leaned over you.

“Listen to me, pumpkin,” he said, his voice a little bit more serious, lower, darker. “I am well aware that you are a grown woman, a young woman who is able to do this all by herself. You are not a helpless little girl who can't do anything, but you are my little girl. You agreed to this, remember? It may feel weird at times, but it really isn't, it's all natural, baby girl, okay? I'm not doing this to humiliate you, to belittle you, I want to do this to help you, I want to pamper you, treat you like the princess you are for me. So let me dress you, let me brush your hair, let me handle you and carry you and move you around. Let me touch you and kiss you and... let me make you feel good. Let it happen,” he added, stressing the words by leaning even closer, his eyes boring into yours. “Let me help you turn those doubts off, focus on me. It'll make me happy too, pumpkin, when you allow me this one thing. It will help you, I promise. Just let it happen.”

You listened intently, focusing on him, soaking up every word, his deep voice vibrating through you, easing the shivers, fighting the darkness. A shuddering breath escaped you, your heart beating faster, your mind unusually quiet. “Okay,” you whispered, licking your lips, another word resting heavy on your tongue. You swallowed around it, then added: “Daddy.”

He smiled at you, his hands back on your cheeks before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, inhaling sharply. “My good girl,” he rasped, peppering your face with quick kisses then returned to your mouth. You parted your lips in anticipation, and he took the chance, his tongue meeting yours in a desperate little dance that you sank into with fervor, wanting nothing more than to dissipate into his touches, his warmth, his strength, letting go completely.

After the kiss, he pulled his arms around you and hugged you tightly, squeezing the remnants of your anxiety right out of you. You breathed freer now, easier, and there was only him. You let him dress you (he put a soft white cotton bra on you, pulled a black shirt with a large white fuzzy cat on it over your head, struggled to wiggle you into a pair of comfy shorts), then he guided you out of the bathroom and down into the kitchen. You followed, squeezing his hand, focused on breathing and on him.

There was a plate set up on the kitchen island, knife, fork, a tall glass full of orange juice next to a large stack of pancakes kept warm by one of those fancy glass domes. Daddy slipped onto one of the high stools lining one side of the island, shifting back enough to allow you to find a place on his lap.

For him it seemed second nature to simply grab your waist and pull you up, arranging you on his leg, one arm around you, the other focused on lifting the dome and putting a pancake onto the plate. For you it still felt a little weird, but you started to accept it again. Because it made him happy, and if he was happy, you were happy, right?

And his thigh was surprisingly comfortable, hard but warm, and you could snuggle into him, your shoulder pressed to his chest, his big hand curled around your side. You turned your head to look at him, smiling shyly, and he grinned wider, and then, he was feeding you. And you let it happen.

It was fluffy and sweet, the pancake and the gesture. Your mind gave a few more stabs but you ignored it, focused on Daddy, on his crinkling eyes when he put the fork to your lips and you opened your mouth and took the piece he was offering. He watched you chew, then prepared another bite, until you had finished at least two whole pancakes. In between he'd feed you the loose blueberries strewn about the plate, and sometimes he'd tilt his head down and snatch one of them right out of your mouth with a deep kiss.

Then he handed you the juice and you drank almost half of it in one go, parched as you were. He rubbed his hand along your hip, his eyes always on you. And you felt warm, safe, taken care of. It felt right again. You put the glass down and watched him, licking your lips.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered in the end, and he smiled at you.

“Of course, pumpkin. Always. I am here for you. Even if you can't find the words. I am always here for you, and if you need me and can't ask for it, you just come to me and hug me, okay? And we'll figure it out together, yeah?”

You nodded, smiling back before bowing your head and burying your face in his shoulder, one arm snaking around him. He kissed the top of your head and held you a bit tighter. For a long moment you sat like that, snuggled against him, the smells of pancakes and him mixing in your nostrils.

“Did you make these pancakes, Daddy?” you whispered after a while, turning your head to look at the still steaming stack.

He gave a short laugh. “No, our chef, Greta, made them. She told me how to keep them warm though. I can do a lot, pumpkin, but I cannot cook, or bake.”

“Hmm,” you hummed softly, your hand gliding down his arm until you closed your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand into your lap. “Maybe we could learn together?”

He tilted his head, watching you as you slipped your small fingers between his long ones. “We could, if you'd like that.”

“I'd like that,” you murmured, before you blinked and looked up, meeting his gaze. “Daddy, I want to... uh... do something too, like, give back, do something to – Well, you and Mommy let me stay here, you give me food, and clothes, and all these... other things, and I just... I need to give back, maybe I can do something that's useful... like clean or... try to cook... or –”

“Pumpkin,” he stopped you, pulling his hand away from yours to grab your chin. “You don't have to do anything to justify your stay here. Besides, you are doing so much already. Just sitting here with me, spending time with me, letting me feed you and do all those things, that is enough. And we already have someone who cleans and cooks, but if you like to feel useful, maybe you can ask them if you could help them, but it really isn't necessary, baby girl. That's not part of our arrangement, hm?”

Your arrangement. To be their submissive, their little girl. To be theirs... to use? No, to pamper. To guide. To take care of. To make you feel good and to make them feel good. It was unusual, very much so, but maybe you could get used to it.

“And if you ever get bored of us or just want to do something if we're not here, we can turn one of our spare rooms into your hobby room, how does that sound?” he offered, rubbing his thumb along your chin. Your lips parted, something warm and bubbly settling in your stomach.

“That sounds great, Daddy,” you breathed excitedly. “A whole room for myself?”

He laughed. “Another room for yourself. One to sleep and one to pass the time. Whatever you like. Any hobby you can think of. Just ask, okay? We want you to feel comfortable here, to find yourself again. This is your new home, remember?” he added, cupping your face and bringing his lips to your temple.

You nodded, smiling at him, a real happy smile that warmed your entire body and ached in your cheeks. He smiled back, pulling you against him. “Thank you,” you murmured into him, your arms tight around his waist.

“You're welcome, pumpkin, anything for my little girl,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Daddy?” you asked after another comfortable moment in his arms.

“Hmm?” he hummed in response.

“Can I... uh... can I ask you something and you won't get mad?”

He leaned you back, looking at you with a frown. “You can ask me anything, I will never get mad at you, baby girl. What makes you say that?”

“Well, I... I asked Mommy once where you were, and she... she reacted a little weirdly, and I thought... I shouldn't ask about you when I'm with her, and maybe you don't like it either if I ask about her when I am with you, and so –”

He heaved a deep sigh while you were still rambling. “Oh pumpkin,” he said with a smirk before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips to shut you up. “Mommy is... well, a complex person, if you want to call it that. As I said, it was her idea to look for a little girl, you know? She really wanted to be a caregiver, but I think she is still getting to terms with properly sharing you. That hasn't been in her nature before, not like this, she is used to getting what she wants, and she wants you, baby, but she has to learn to share you with me, that's part of our agreement. And she will, I'm sure, we'll just have to give her time. This is new to all of us.

“So, maybe she was a little irritated, but that's nothing you should worry about, okay? You should always be able to ask anything you want, either of us, no matter if you think it's weird or if it might make the other mad or whatever. There are no stupid questions,” he stressed, playfully booping the tip of your nose. “And if you want to ask me about Mommy, you ask me about Mommy, understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered, biting your lip.

“So?”

You scrunched your nose. “Well, I was wondering where she is...” you started quietly, before quickly adding: “And that doesn't mean I don't want to be with you, I'm just curious and –”

He shook his head with another laugh, kissing your cheek. “She's at the office, pumpkin. She'll be back for dinner. And you know, she asked me to tell you that she really enjoyed our time together last night, me too, by the way. It was a great idea, to make sure she was fine, hm? Did you like it too?”

Heat crashed into your cheeks when you nodded. “It was... something,” you whispered, giving him a shy smirk before looking away. “Nothing I've ever experienced...”

“And it's just the beginning, baby girl,” he rasped as he leaned closer, nuzzling your jaw. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathed softly, snuggling into him. He hugged you closer, his lips brushing against yours.

“Are you comfortable with me, pumpkin?”

No hesitation. “Yes.”

“And with Mommy?”

“Yes.” Quick again.

And you were. It was all new to you, but you still felt safe with them. They might nudge you out of your comfort zone more often than you were accustomed to, but they never forced you, never made you do anything you didn't want. You wanted them, to hold you, to kiss you, to touch you, to...

You were sure you'd still have the occasional anxiety attack, wondering why these gorgeous people would do these things with someone like you, but you also knew that Daddy was there for you, and Mommy too. You believed them in wanting to help you. They did it in their own way, but it was help nonetheless.

“I'm glad, baby,” he whispered softly, his arms tight around you, his beard scratching against your cheek. “You really are the perfect little girl for us...”

You shifted on his lap, tucking your feet under his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck, facing him for a moment before you tilted your head and pressed your lips to his. He gave a soft chuckle and quickly deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over your back.

“And you're the perfect Daddy,” you whispered in one of the rare moments where you came up for air. You felt his smile against your lips, saw the twinkle in his eyes, how the creases deepened around them.

“I'm the only Daddy you'll ever need, pumpkin.”

Chapter 11 🔷️ Chapter 12 🔷️

End notes: BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

Well, there will be, in the near future! I am not done with Daddy, Mommy and Pumpkin yet. I still have so many things I want Pumpkin to experience (like her first time with Daddy, or how Mommy teaches her the joys of toys, and so many more depraved little instances she'll absolutely love I'm sure XD), also I finally want to show the real Mommy and Daddy energy, more than we've seen in the last chapters, the real deal, you know what I mean.

So, please, stay tuned, follow along if you like, and keep your eyes open for new updates soon!

While you wait, remember that I have more (smut) stories:

INFATUATED (tumblr/AO3)

ABANDONED (tumblr/AO3)

FORGETFUL (tumblr/AO3)

Thank you for reading! It's been a bumpy ride so far, but I appreciate every single one of you who read and liked and supported my little original fiction! See you soon!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[zomgcaleb]

hi zom its 🍓anon here :P, i saw some post about caleb as a commercial pilot and i cant get it out of my head, i jus know the day ur on a flight he'd make everyone know about it and embarrass the fuck out of u omg

UGH yes he’s so annoying sighs dreamily

Somehow he always finds out about a trip of yours and somehow he’s always the one flying your plane. You ask him about it but alas he’s dodgy on the subject.

Sometimes if first class has open seating he’ll pay the difference and move your seat so you’re closer to him :(. He’ll even get the flight attendants to sneak you extra snacks if he can. Regardless of whether or not you’re in first class, despite how luxurious it is compared to where you normally sit, you still manage to leave utterly mortified.

He’s a well loved pilot. Many passengers excite at the idea that he’s at the head of their plane, enjoying the smooth sailing through the air and a safe journey. But not for you. At least not mentally.

The second you board he’s already zeroed in on you and frankly you know better than to assume a peaceful ride. You sink into your seat immediately and it’s not long before the overhead intercom sounds loud and raspy above your head.

He’ll run through all the safety protocols like usual in his charming upbeat style. Until he doesn’t.

“All righty, that’s it. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Also, beware of the pretty lady in seat B4. She bites.”

sybau <\\3

Everyone who’s a regular traveler probably knows abt you.

Oh and believe that he will be back to pick you up and fly you home it’s never a discussion and you never know how he does it so you’ve grown to stop asking

It’s always worth it though when you finish getting your luggage and he hops out of the plane to send you off with a sweet kiss—or two or three you’ve lost count at this point—and watches you leave with the crowd before heading back to his seat.

:((

[sleepyhollands]

false god

PAIRING harry styles x reader

SUMMARY harry’s having trouble finding enough time to spend with y/n, even after she drops everything and joins him on tour. when they talk, they only seem to argue. when they don’t, they only seem to fuck.

WARNINGS she’s an angsty one— lots of miscommunication, poorly executed arguments, and general couple fighting content. BUT!! there is lots of really cute fluff at the end :> also, beware of smutty content such as soft!dom harry (my favorite), oral (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), unprotected p in v, a brief hesitation to get naked on y/n’s part, an even more brief mention of bondage play, harry leaves like one love bite, and tooth-rotting holding each other while having sex content. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT 5.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE fun fact this was supposed to be done months ago and then literally everything that could have gotten in my way did just that. but she’s here now!! writing this was a challenge but i feel so good about it now that it’s complete and i can’t wait for you all to read it. please lmk you enjoyed by leaving feedback and/or reblogging!! special thanks to @cherryjuiceblues for beta reading for me <3 ily <3

LOVER SELECTION one-shots here.

copyright © sleepyhollands. all rights reserved. || my masterlist.

“harry, it doesn’t matter if—”

“it does to me!”

“hey, there are two people in this relationship, you know.”

“yeah, an‘ one of ’em feels like right shit on what’s meant to be the greatest tour of his life! doesn’t that mean anythin‘ to you?”

“of course it does, i just—”

“really? ’cause y’could’ve fooled me, love.”

“harry, i swear, if you interrupt me one more time, i’m booking the next flight home.” 

… tour had been going really well for harry! he was playing back to back sold out shows in some of the biggest cities in the world, with adoring fans lining up by the thousands, itching to hear him sing live. he’d already had some really sweet interactions on stage, and no crazy mishaps had occurred (he was especially proud of himself for having ensured everyone’s safety so far). just in the last week alone, he’d been nominated for three different awards for his newest album and performances. anyone could see that he was living a dream— the dream, really. the kind that only comes true once in a blue moon. 

and yet… tour had been going really poorly for harry. now, he doesn’t like to complain about much; he knows just how fortunate he is, and actively tries to see the bigger picture when frustrated. but it was really hard to zoom out of his particular situation when he was so zeroed in on a particular aspect that had been bugging him for weeks— y/n. 

don’t get him wrong! y/n herself wasn’t what was bothering him. it was more so her presence, and his… lack thereof. 

if there’s one thing harry prides himself on more than anything, it’s being an attentive lover— even in the most innocent and platonic of ways. he tries his absolute hardest to be a supportive brother, a considerate son, a (hopefully) decent role model to those who look up to him, and especially a present, loving boyfriend. and for the most part, he’s just as successful in those aspects as he is in his career. in fact, y/n regularly speaks of how harry treats her like she hangs the stars in the sky just for him, how he makes her feel like the most special girl in the world. 

but this tour was taking its toll, and harry was taking it out on y/n. he’s never been great at communicating everything in the most positive of ways— that’s where he turns to songwriting— and he’d let his emotions get the better of him after letting them build up for the past couple of weeks. he wasn’t proud of himself, but he needed an outlet. 

harry didn’t mean to start the fight. but when y/n asked him where he’d been after a last minute management meeting following that night’s show kept him an extra half hour later than he said he’d be, it was like all the frustration just erupted. inadequacy is one of his least favorite feelings (next to loneliness), and being a barely-there or only-sometimes-there boyfriend couldn’t be more of a trigger for that particular emotion. 

now here they were, vexation filling the tour bus around them like a fog they could barely see through, inhaling it with every breath and releasing it back into the atmosphere surrounding them. harry huffed out a sigh, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he angrily looked out the window of the tour bus to distract himself for a moment, having to mentally step away from the argument at hand, even if just for a few seconds. watching as the dark streets outside shined with the headlights of other vehicles, he found himself wishing he were in one of them. it would be nice to be in a car alone, nothing but his thoughts and some music to keep him company. 

but he had real company. she was standing not six feet away from him, emulating his defensive position with her arms drawn across her own chest, jaw clenching and relaxing every other moment. when he finally turned to look at her again, he exhaled loudly. 

“we were crazy to think that this could work,” he mumbled, barely audible to y/n, but she was able to make it out. 

even when they fought, the girl seemed to be in sync with him, inhaling deeply, subconsciously countering his previous expulsion of breath. the yin to his yang.

“what are you talking about?”

harry groaned at her words. how didn’t she get this? “y/n, i’m never around! i wake up when you’re still asleep, prepare for the day, go to the venue, help set up the stage, sound check, rehearse a bit, and then ’m off t’go get ready for a show that lasts two hours. almost each night! i come back exhausted and aching to sleep! where d’you see yourself fitting in there?”

when y/n realized it was her turn to speak again, she said, “first off, do you think you could please calm down a little? i can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

his eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“when you’re acting like a child, harry! i mean, for god’s sake, i’m not nine! i can handle hanging out on my own for a few days at a time and just getting to cuddle with you at night until you have a day off. it’s not like i don’t have things to do throughout the day, too.”

while harry tended to say things he didn’t exactly believe in the heat of the moment, y/n meant every word she uttered. she really was content relaxing in the tour bus or a hotel room taking care of work on her laptop, catching up on new episodes of her favorite shows, or even going out to explore whatever new city they were in by herself. harry had breaks between show days once or twice a week, and the thought of having those days to themselves was enough to sate her desire to spend time with him. it annoyed her that he didn’t understand that, as she’d never been the clingy type and was always very self-sufficient. 

“oh, i’m acting like a child, am i? right, i didn’t realize that wanting t’be present in my relationship with my girlfriend was childish, but hey, you learn something new every day, i s’pose.” 

oh, y/n was really starting to seethe now. letting her arms fall to her sides with a frustrated puff, she began again. 

“god, harry, you’re not childish for wanting to spend time together! i’m saying you need to realize that i’m perfectly capable of waiting for your days off to really spend time with you. you’re acting like we can’t function without each other!”

“the whole idea of you comin‘ on tour with me was to have this time together, y/n,” harry fired back. “if we’re barely going to get to see each other anyways, then what’s the bloody point?”

…

harry might have spoken too soon. at least, that’s what he thought as he laid overtop y/n on the tour bus couch, because now the point might very well be getting to just feel her lips on his every now and again. 

it was late; harry had just come back from a show. usually, he’s too tired to do anything but crash onto a cloud-like mattress after all the jumping around he does on that stage, but this time all he wanted was his girl. it’d started innocently enough, with harry pulling y/n into his lap on the worn, red leather of the couch. his hands roamed along her hips and down to her waist beneath her soft hoodie (which wasn’t even technically her’s, but is it really theft if harry just leaves his clothes lying around for her to nab?), exploring the soft expanse of her skin, not straying any lower. her own hands were hidden in his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp in what she hoped were soothing motions. 

harry knew he was done for once he initiated the kiss. tentative at first, he pressed light pecks along the corner of her mouth, quick and feathery, like he didn’t really care if he got to kiss her so much as he got to hold her, or simply be with her. but soon, the eagerness set in, like he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get to have her was, and suddenly he was capturing her mouth with his own, barely giving her a chance to breathe as he tasted her. while harry never really believed in a higher power, he could have sworn he found religion in her lips. 

things only escalated from there. it wasn’t long before harry was wrapping his muscular arms around y/n, so tight that he accidentally squeezed too hard, earning a squeak from the girl. he muttered a hushed but sincere “’m sorry, darling,” to compensate. one hand supported her head, the other splayed across her back as he laid her against the cushions so that he could keep loving on her on the way down. he relished her little whimpers that she tried so hard to suppress, grinning against her jawbone, her neck, any skin he came across on his journey south to more pressing territory. 

harry didn’t bother removing y/n’s hoodie, opting instead to push it up past her naval in favor of gaining access to the waistband of her fluffy sleep shorts. he felt her hands tighten their grip ever so slightly on his shoulders as he hooked his fingers under it, relaxing again when he rubbed the pad of his thumb delicately along her hipbone, reminding her it was only him. 

it was a thing with y/n. she loved harry, of course she did, and she trusted him more than anyone. and maybe it was the way she was brought up, or perhaps a few poor experiences with sexual partners in the past, but there was always a fleeting moment of anxiety before shedding the clothing barrier before sex. like dipping a toe into a cold lake and hesitating a little, then ultimately deciding that jumping in wouldn’t be so bad. 

harry never pried. the first few times they’d slept together, he noticed her nerves, and asked her if she was sure she wanted to continue. y/n had said yes each time, and after a while, he stopped asking. but still, whenever he noticed that brief nervous shift, harry gave her a chance to change her mind. 

this time, he bided his time by sponging tender kisses right above where his fingers were still half hidden under her shorts. he wanted her to feel safe, and taken care of, and he hoped his gentle touches and even breathing could remedy her anxiety. as he waited, harry’s mind drifted…. he was getting lost in the feel of her soft skin, its dips and curves and blemishes. he thought about her waist, how his hands fit so perfectly against its sides; her tummy, and how the muscles there jolted when he tickled them; and her hips… god, if y/n’s body was a church, her hips could be the altar. harry was ready to say a prayer right then, thanking every higher power for blessing him with this gorgeous girl—

“harry?” his love’s melodic voice interrupted his thoughts, and harry’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his nose continuing to skim just above her navel. “um… you can keep going. please.” 

the corner of harry’s mouth quirked upward, and y/n could have sworn she caught a glimpse of mischief in the jade of his irises, but it was gone in an instant, as he wasted no time in stripping her of her bottoms.

…

“god, h-harry,” panted y/n, her grip on his curls constricting with every lick to her core, “’s so good, oh—”

“would feel even better if y’stopped trying t’run away from me, wouldn’t it? don’t wanna have to tie you down.”

y/n couldn’t help it! it wasn’t her fault if harry’s tongue was just too good and her body’s natural reaction was to attempt to escape his grip for a little relief. if anything, he should be happy— they’d been at this for so long y/n lost count of the minutes, and after two toe-curling orgasms, one would think harry’s jaw could use a break. 

but that thought flew out the window when y/n remembered who she was metaphorically in bed with. 

“’m sorry…,” she whimpered, gripping the side of the couch cushion as her eyes squeezed shut.

“don‘ have to be sorry, darling,” harry mumbled against her folds, chin glistening with her arousal as he placed a soft kiss to y/n’s clit, making her jolt in his hold. he breathed a short laugh, adjusting his arms so that one held her upper thigh next to his head, while the other pinned her hips to the red leather, restricting her ability to move. “jus’ wanna make you feel as good as possible, is all. will y’let me?”

harry turned his head, nipping at the inside of the girl’s thigh, and she gasped at the brief assault on the softest skin of her body, now adorning the mark of his front teeth that she loved so much. she shuddered a breath as best she could, and harry could tell by the way her knuckles were turning white in their grip on the couch that she was trying her best to be good. feeling a twinge of guilt, he figured maybe he should offer her a second to breathe. y/n opened her eyes when she felt harry’s lips retreat from her aching cunt and the weight of his head rest against the love bite. 

“hey.”

y/n cast her gaze down upon the boy (who looked far too innocent, considering what they were doing) with his cheek laid on her inner thigh, stray hairs tickling her just a tad. playfulness swam in his eyes, but there was an underlying current of concern. 

“doin‘ okay?”

she nodded, gulping. harry noticed. 

“because we can take a break if you want to. just say the word, okay?”

“i will, i-i promise. but… can you please keep going?”

that was all he needed to get right back into it, only with even more fervor than before. when y/n reached her third and final peak of the night, her whole body shook, and harry had the pleasure of getting to watch as he helped her ride out her high. he almost came in his pants, rutting his hips into the sofa, moaning against her core, begging her give it t’me, love, that’s it.

harry pulled back when she started pushing at his head, whining for relief as he gave one final lap at her core. he grinned at her fucked-out figure as he wiped his face on his forearm, then took her hand that had been grasping at the cushion in one of his, bringing the back of it to his lips for a gentle kiss. 

“feel all right, baby?”

“mhm,” she hummed between heaving breaths, glancing at what she assumed could only be a quite painful stiffy between his legs as he sat up, “do you?”

harry followed her line of vision, offering her a chuckle and an i’m fine, using his free hand to smooth his thumb along her brow. before he could even register it, her palm slipped from the grip of his other hand and traveled down to rub against the bulge in his pants, earning a sharp hiss from her boyfriend and a deep groan soon after. 

“why don’t you let me repay the favor?”

…

harry was pretty sure y/n was asleep. if she wasn’t, she was definitely on the verge— her breaths were deep and even as she laid in his hold, her head on his chest, ear pressed overtop his steadily beating heart. and who could blame her? the evening’s activities had worn her out, which meant harry had done his job properly. he was more than happy to be wide awake, running his fingertips up and down her arm, inhaling the sweet scent of her fruity body wash while she dreamt if it meant she was rested and content and happy. 

moments like these made harry think they could get away with it. the long hours spent apart, the hectic schedules, the fighting. sure, it was tough, and yes, they both had a temper that rivaled one another’s for the ‘least amount of patience award’ on any given day. but every missing ounce of patience was compensated by double its weight in love. they loved one another enough to make it work. 

they could make this work. 

right?

…

“jesus, harry, how do you think that makes me feel? you’d honestly rather i not be here? are you actually that insecure?”

“c’mon, y/n, you know tha’s not what i meant.”

y/n felt like they were going around in circles, having the same fight over and over again. only this time, the couple found themselves in a beautiful hotel room, with a beautiful view overlooking a beautiful city. and instead of getting to enjoy it, y/n was glaring at harry though the vanity mirror, his back facing her as he tamed his wild curls for tonight’s show… which he had to leave for in just a few short minutes. 

the balled up fist on y/n’s hip flew up to her face, fingers flexing to pinch at the bridge of her nose as her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. 

“i can’t believe this. i dropped everything to be here with you— to support you on the most incredible tour of your career— and instead of being happy i’m here as opposed to the alternative of thousands of miles away in a different time zone for months, you’re sitting here bitching about being too tired?” 

harry sighed deeply, only infuriating y/n more. “you’re missing the point. ’s not that i don’t want you here, or just that ’m too tired. ’s knowing you’re sitting around by yourself, waiting on me while ’m working, when you could be out with friends and family, or sleeping in the comfort of your own bed—”

“that you’re not in!” the girl loudly interjected— how didn’t he get this? “i put all those things aside for us, har. it’s not like i’m leaving my life behind for years. christ’s sake, the tour is over in two months! but somehow, being away from my home and routine is easier than being in the same room as you right now.”

harry contemplated his next words carefully, turning them over in his head a few times and editing any obvious mistakes, leaving the pair of them to marinate in suffocating silence for a good ten or so seconds before he finally spoke. 

“y/n… i can’t be a good boyfriend and a serious artist simultaneously, okay? not while ’m on tour. i can’t keep losing sleep over how well i’m balancing—”

“okay, you know what, harry? you know what? maybe you should just leave me, then. wouldn’t that be easier? you’d be able to sleep better at night, right?”

they both knew she didn’t mean it, though harry couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt to hear. but she was pissed, and harry knew better than to try to reason with her when she was like this. 

when she realized he wasn’t going to respond, instead electing to stare brokenly into the mirror, she continued. “you know damn well how hard i work for this relationship. i’ve flown across the oceans that have separated us, driven for hours just to get to see you for, like, one— hell, i’ve skipped some of my most important classes so we could go to shitty dive bars in the middle of the day together! yeah, remember that? i love you, okay? people who love each other are supposed to be grateful for any time they have together at all, no matter if it’s every day or once a year.”

y/n took a breath, finally cooling down after her heated rant. she took a moment to take in the sight of her boyfriend, dressed so vibrantly, feeling anything but. 

“they warned us about times like this,” the defeated tone of y/n’s whisper was enough to finally get harry to say something. 

“what was that, love?”

the girl swallowed the little saliva in her mouth before speaking up a mere decibel. “remember what my parents said? ‘the road gets hard, and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith,’” she imitated her father’s deep voice, and if not for the circumstances, harry might’ve laughed. 

they weren’t lost, were they?

…

if there was such a thing as heaven on earth, y/n is pretty sure she’s been there. in fact, she goes there whenever harry so much as touches her. 

when he kisses her shin as they lay watching a movie together on the couch, pulling her leg up off his lap and craning his neck downward to meet it in the middle. when he runs his fingers down the bridge of her nose, making an exaggerated boop! noise once he reaches the tip, gently pressing against it like a doorbell. and especially when he has her like this. 

harry’s arms felt secure wrapped around y/n’s torso, her hips moving back and forth atop his own. the feeling of his cock twitching and shifting inside her while her nipples rub deliciously along his chest made her dizzy, like she had just gotten off a loopy rollercoaster. harry’s back arched just slightly off the plush mattress of their hotel suite’s bed when y/n gave a little bounce, arms constricting around her and forcing a pleased sigh to fall from her lips. 

the girl hid her face in the crook of his neck, and harry could feel each and every hot breath against his skin. lost in pleasure, he let his large hands migrate from her hips down to her bum, where he gave a small pinch to the flesh, eliciting a yelp and a small jolt from y/n. 

“sorry, baby,” he laughed, “couldn’t help m’self.” harry gently flattened his palm against the now tender skin, rubbing there softly in an attempt to soothe the little ache he left. when he felt satisfied, he shifted to rubbing between her shoulder blades instead, his other arm still wrapped around her lower back as she returned to her previous rhythm above him. 

y/n could tell harry was enjoying himself. his groans alone were evidence enough, not to mention the little utterances of “shit, darling,” and “so good t’me,” he frequently let slip. but perhaps he just needed a bit more to reach his high, because without warning his hands were on her thighs, gripping tightly as he began to thrust upwards into her at a much quicker pace than she had originally set— it had her seeing stars in a matter of mere seconds. 

“oh, god— harry,” y/n gasped out, gripping the edge of the plush pillow by harry’s ear. she could feel him hitting that special spot inside her with every snap of his hips, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back into her head, muscles tightening all throughout her body. 

“almost there, angel… just…,” harry’s thrusts began to slow, becoming more deliberate, and now he was moving her hips to grind against his each time they met, sending y/n over the edge. 

y/n’s moans were long and drawn out as she came, body spasms making her hold on more tightly to harry for stability. she didn’t even hear him finish, too busy reveling in the euphoric feeling of cumming in his arms, surrounded by warmth and love and feeling the safest she had in a long while. 

it was moments like these where y/n couldn’t fathom how she’s ever been upset with harry. he was perfect, lying here under her unsteady body, breathing deeply not only to catch his breath, but to take in the smell of her. she wanted this for eternity. and if this was heaven, then surely hell was when they fought with each other. 

…

y/n thought she was dreaming at first, not used to being roused from her slumber by anything other than her well-timed alarm and the occasional bark of a dog on a nearby street. she expected that after blinking the sleep from her eyes a few times, the vague image of her favorite boy would dissipate, and she’d fall back into the comfort of her warm pillow. but when she squeezed them shut once, then twice, and her boyfriend’s face was still a foot away from her’s, brushing his fingertips up her nose and along her brow, she set aside her exhaustion in exchange for confusion.

now, harry knew better than to wake y/n up. in most circumstances, she’d tell him off, or gently kick at him to get him to leave her alone. he found it rather endearing, and it’s one of the reasons he’s so protective of her in her sleep— always holding her close to keep her safe, shielding her eyes from any light intruding on the space she lay, making sure both their phones were set to ‘do not disturb.’ but he had to make an exception, just this once. 

“darling,” she barely registered his whisper, “wake up f’me, please?”

a whine fell from y/n’s lips, her eyes scrunching shut as she turned her body away from him, which harry knew was code for let me sleep, for fuck’s sake! a smile graced his lips at the action, jotting down a mental note to make this up to her later. 

compensating for the newfound distance between them, harry scooted closer to her. he kneeled on the floor next to the bed, close to the pillows she rested upon. he laid one arm against the mattress, perching his chin on the back of his wrist. using his free hand, he continued to brush his fingertips lightly against his love’s cheek, her jaw— all along her face, really. god, her loves her face so much.  

“please, baby?”

harry had just come back from one of his best performances yet— the crowd’s energy was unmatched, the chemistry between him and his band members was palpable, and he’d managed to not get hit with any flying objects all night! but what really did it for him was the fan project he was surprised with at the end of the show. thousands of people in the room wore light-up bracelets that shone pink and blue during one of his favorite songs, ‘love of my life.’ if harry’s heart had been any more full in that moment, it might’ve exploded right there in his chest. 

he had been on cloud nine for a moment. but soon, realization washed over him in a way that squeezed at his lungs, stealing his breath for a second. the love of his life was somewhere miles away, probably sitting in their hotel room watching a comfort film, oblivious to anything he was feeling on that stage. he just wanted to go home to her and gush about what had happened, and how he wished she’d been there, and how it made so much sense that it would happen during ‘love of my life’ because it was the perfect representation of the amount of love he had for his, and how if she’d have been there, he would have looked directly at her and smiled the whole time. 

it made him realize how bloody stupid he was.

in retrospect, the conversation he’d needlessly just woken y/n up for could have waited until morning. but then harry wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he didn’t tell her he was sorry right away. 

a groan sounded through the room, followed by the ruffling of bedsheets as the girl turned back over to glare annoyedly at harry. he let out a soft laugh at her behavior. 

“’m sorry, baby. know you jus‘ wanna sleep right now, but ’s it okay if we talk for a mo‘?”

“now?” y/n asked in a gravelly voice.

“now, m‘ love.”

with a soft sigh, she relented, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her knuckles. harry caught the motion, bringing his hands up to pull hers away from her face. he didn’t like when y/n did that, as she always managed to do it too roughly. instead, he held her smaller hands in his own, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“what is it?” y/n asked through a yawn. harry looked at her for a moment— really looked at her— before responding.

“i’m sorry.”

it took her a moment to register his words. “for waking me up?”

harry laughed that dreamy laugh she loved so much, and it almost made up for the fact that she was up at twelve thirty in the morning. “no, y’little minx. not for that. well, yes, for that, but that’s not what i meant.”

“what are you sorry for, then?” 

harry looked at her with an expression y/n couldn’t place. it look him a few beats to speak. “i… i’m sorry i was such a prick before. i love that you’re here, an‘ that i get t’see you when i’m off. know you put aside a lot for this, an‘ i ruined it with m’own problems. didn’t mean to.”

y/n’s features softened at the boy’s sincerity, and if it weren’t for the warmth his hands encapsulating hers provided, she’d have reached out and held his face, peppering kisses over every dip and curve. 

“i know you didn’t…. i’m sorry, too.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve listened better. you were trying to tell me how you felt and i just disregarded it. that wasn’t very nice of me, either.”

the right corner of harry’s lips tugged upwards, morphing his mouth into that little half-grin y/n adored so much. “think we can get past it, darling?”

the girl scooted forward the tiniest bit, harry’s magnetic pull too hard to resist. though they were the only two in the room, she whispered, “i’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” harry liked how she made something so simple sound like a secret deal between them.

harry’s half-smile quickly quirked up, completing itself, and y/n swooned over his dimples and adorable bunny teeth. a short and quiet breath of a laugh fell past his lips, and for a moment, he just looked at her. but his gaze caught a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes, and his grin faltered a bit. 

y/n was always good at hiding her true emotions when she wanted to. not when it really mattered, don’t get her wrong— she wasn’t one to take anyone’s shit. but at dinner with her parents or meetings at work, she was able to pretend she wasn’t exhausted or annoyed. it never worked with harry, though. he could read and understand her like his own lyrics, and tonight was no exception. he saw through the mask of humor at her uncertainty, and a pang of guilt bloomed in his chest. 

he let out a sigh as he beckoned her forward by gently tugging her hands, still in his, toward him. “c’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling his love into his lap. y/n curled into him, knees tucked upward into her chest as his strong arms found purchase around her frame, holding her tenderly but securely. one of harry’s large hands held the back of her head against him, her ear right over his heart, listening to it beat for her. 

“love you like crazy. you’ve no idea.” he peppered light kisses to the top of her head, so softly she might’ve missed one or two. “thank you for comin‘ an‘ s’porting me. means the world, honestly.” 

“i’m happy to be anywhere with you, har,” she replied in a voice honey-thick with sleep. “even if it’s just for a few minutes. always so happy to have you.”

harry closed his eyes, laying back into the pillows, bringing y/n down with him so that she was laying overtop his sturdy body, inhaling his every exhale. 

“you have me,” he said, though he was almost certain she didn’t hear him, likely already pulled into the void of sleep, drawn in by the comfort of harry’s arms, his smell, him. 

“you’ll always have me.”

taglist (final time using the old one, see new link in bio): @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

[notjustjavierpena]

50 NSFW-QUESTIONS FOR HUBBY!

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

Some time ago, I asked @rivnedell if I could use her 50 questions for everyone's favorite husband Javier. She was so sweet and encouraging, so I got right to them.

These are (funnily enough) +18, so beware and MDNI.

1. Biggest Turn-On?

When you show how much you want him because of how much you love him. He goes crazy when you take initiative to sex, play a little dirty and touch him up when it’s inappropriate because you just cannot help yourself. It’s nice to see that he isn’t the only one who is crazy about the other. 

2. Biggest Turn-off?

He doesn’t like for you to play stupid, girly or young. He is most turned on by your confidence, maturity and the fact that you’re a strong woman who gave birth to his children. Sure, he likes the occasional daddy/papí but only if you’re mommy/mamí.

3. Quickest way to get horny?

Whisper in his ear what you want to do to him or what you want him to do to you. He’ll walk around half-hard the rest of the day and then absolutely ravish you when he gets the chance. 

4. Top 3 places to be touched?

Face, neck and chest. He loves your gentle hands caressing him slowly until he is completely under your spell. He’ll never get enough attention, able to both get hot for you or fall soundly asleep. 

5. Does he like the idea of a threesome or a moresome?

Javier probably has had a threesome in his life but he likes giving all his attention to a single partner. After meeting you, he would never dream of needing a third party in the bedroom. 

6. Sex or Masturbation?

Sex. Javier likes the connection he has with another person. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like masturbating and letting his mind drift to what he’d like to do to you. 

7. Spit or Swallow?

He won’t lie. Swallow. Unless, of course, you make a show to drool with it, letting it drip down your chin. 

8. Rough or Romantic sex?

Why can’t rough sex be romantic? He’ll tell you he loves you while you’re arching your back and saying fucked-out nonsense because of how deeply he reaches inside of you. 

9. Loud or quiet partners?

Loud, holy shit. He wants to hear how good he is making you feel, wants to make you scream until there are noise complaints. 

10. How much foreplay?

He likes to wring out a few orgasms from you before you get down to business but with a house full of kids, he’ll take what he can get in the moments you have to yourselves. If you are alone, he loves getting you hot and bothered so you’re dripping wet and begging when he slides into your heat. 

11. How much teasing does he like?

Javier doesn’t like to tease you, is usually too impatient to do it, but he relishes in getting teased by you. Stolen glances, dirty whispers, bending over to show off what he cannot have yet. He’ll feel lightheaded, worked up like a dog who isn’t allowed his treat yet. 

12. Hook ups or only partners?

Hook ups are a thing of the past. Now it’s only you. 

13. How much kissing during sex?

If he can reach your mouth, he’ll kiss you breathless. Otherwise, he’ll have his mouth on your skin as much as possible. It’s his way of cherishing you, letting you know he just can’t get enough of every square inch of you.

14. Favorite place to have sex?

Javier actually really likes having sex in the kitchen or the bathroom because he can flip you around and shove you down onto the counters. However, some of the best sex he has had has been in a bed even if it’s less adventurous. 

15. Would he have sex in public?

To some extent. He likes the idea of getting caught but he wouldn’t actually have sex with you if there were others around. On an abandoned street, in a field, in a locked public bathroom is very much something but it would take something special to make him lose it where people could actually see. Like that one time in the taxi, remember?

16. Last place he had sex?

In your bedroom, doors locked and all the kids in their beds like usual. One hand over your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone and your brows furrowed as he slowly drove his cock in and out of you. 

17. Where would he most like to have sex?

On a child-free holiday. Non-stop and all over the hotel room.

18. Spontaneous sex or does he need to be in the mood?

There is not lots of spontaneous sex when you have kids but he tries to find moments during every day chores where he can take care of you quickly. He is never not in the mood for you; one wink and he’s ready to go. 

19. Would he go for a hookup at a stranger's house?

Sure. He’s done it a million times when he was young and single. 

20. Biggest kink?

Javier saw you and instantly, his breeding kink came out of its hiding. He won’t accept coming anywhere else but in the warmth of your ripe cunt. That and calling you any version of mom, e.g. pretty mamá, mommy, mamacita? He is done for. You’re the mother of his children and that is so fucking hot. Can we make one more, mamá? We can handle another baby… Please let me come inside.

21. Is he ok with name-calling?

No. He doesn’t like calling you vulgar things. 

22. Would he do BDSM?

He’d try something more extreme if you like but the harshest thing he’s done to you is give your throat a squeeze or two. 

23. Would he prefer to tie you up or be tied up?

There’s something in both things that he likes but being the one getting teased by you is his favorite. If he had to tie you up, it would be to keep your legs spread open for him so you can’t get away. 

24. Does he like orgasm denial?

He doesn’t use it as punishment or even just to be mean. Instead, he uses it to make you absolutely shatter when he finally lets you have it and you know this, know that he’d never leave you unsatisfied because you get a little cuckoo if you don’t orgasm. This goes both ways. 

25. Does he like overstimulation?

He doesn’t like it much on himself but if he has a chance to see you twitching and crying from being touched too much, he’ll take it. He knows how much you like it too. 

26. Does he like pain being involved?

He likes when you grab him, squeeze him, smack him, bite him but no more than that. He does, however, love spanking you. 

27. Does he like dirty talk?

Fuck yeah, the man has got a mouth on him. He likes whispering things in your ear or talking as he hovers above you, telling you how good you feel around his cock and how gorgeous you are as you moan and groan, right up until he lets you know you’re about to make him come.

28. Does he own sex toys? How many?

Javier owns a cockring but not much else. Do handcuffs count? 

29. What does he masturbate to?

Whatever floats around in his brain. Sometimes it’s just to release some tension and he’ll think of nothing. Other times, it’s because you have done something to get him worked up and he’ll imagine you with your hands or mouth wrapped around his cock. He will admit that he’s thought about stupid porn scenarios too. 

30. Multiple rounds or will he settle for one orgasm?

If you have time, he’ll send the kids off to his Pop’s and fuck you six ways till Sunday. Once is never enough and he’ll stock up on electrolyte-drinks and pre-workout protein bars to go all night and day.

31. Does he enjoy giving oral?

He could spend hours between your legs if he had the time. It’s his favorite way to get you soaked and ready for him. God, when your thighs twitch and your voice cracks as you gush all over his face, he knows heaven is a place on Earth.

32. Does he prefer giving or receiving oral?

He has no preference.

33. What makes him orgasm the fastest?

You begging for another baby whilst crying from your own orgasm. He can never hold back when he knows that you want him to finish, especially inside. 

34. Does he like/do anal/pegging?

Pegging? No. Anal? He’s allowed on special occasions.

35. Favorite position?

Anything where he gets to be close to you, his nose in your neck and feeling your groans vibrate underneath his lips as he molds you with his cock. Some intense missionary has him seeing stars but fuck, he loves lying down right behind you to cage you in the one arm that stretches across your tits.

36. Does he use protection?

Yes. In his youth, he did have condoms lying around. However, he used to have a lot of unprotected sex back in Colombia which he has been scolded for by you but he was often drunk, sad, angry or scatterbrained by the strain that was on him. Does he use protection with you? No, not really anymore. He’ll probably set money aside for a vasectomy when you’ve had the twins. 

37. Does he masturbate with clothes on?

Clothes or no clothes is not really a big deal for him. However, he mostly jerks off in the shower, so without? 

38. How does he prefer your hair/grooming?

However you want. 

39. What does he wear to bed?

Just his boxers. He’d like to wear nothing but it doesn’t work with kids jumping into bed on a Saturday morning. 

40. What does he like you to wear?

Javier doesn’t like to dictate but if he had to choose, he’d like you to wear something that accentuates your waist and ass. It makes him want to grab onto your hips. You in a sundress and he’ll bend you over the nearest surface to put a baby in you. In terms of wearing something to bed, he’ll go insane if he sees you in those cute little sleep shorts or panties and one of his own t-shirts. 

41. Does he like his balls played with?

Yes! You better have a hand cupping them as you suck him off. 

42. What is his sexuality?

Javier considers himself straight but there have been a few instances of too much alcohol, an eager guy and a messy hookup in his car. 

43. Does he have any extreme or unusual kinks?

I would not say anything extreme or unusual, no, but Javier does have an intense lactation kink and it makes him come so fast to see you drip with milk. Go on, let him have a sip. 

44. How often does he masturbate?

He’s okay with once in the shower. Just to take off some pressure in the morning.  

45. Favorite toy?

Javier cannot remember the last thing that impressed him as much as using the rose toy on you. 

46. Does he like roleplay?

To some extent but mostly, he just loves getting down and dirty with his wife.

47. Any fetishes?

Like I said: GIVE THAT MAN A GODDAMN SIP!!

48. Aftercare?

Obviously! He’ll get the warm flannel or carry you to the bathroom, kiss you for a long time and caress your used body. You okay, baby? Wasn’t too hard on you? 

49. Does he ever go commando?

Very rarely. It happened more often in his youth.

50. Phone sex?

He’s not going to say no to that but he isn’t much of a texter, so it better be a call so he can hear your tiny cries for him. 

.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[ever-4sunlight]

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦Headcannon꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

✮Relationship with the genshin hybrids

✮Pairing: gorou, itto, tighnari, yae miko x gn reader

✮Warnings: bad English || pronouns used: none

✮Requests are open<3

𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖

-Relationships with gorou are kinda complicated he is used taking the role of the serious commander so it's hard for him to actually be himself for you

-He will most definitely act all tough and serious around you so you think he's cool!

-If you two are alone he will cuddle up to you and let you scratch behind his ears with his tail wagging like crazy!

-He's not really into telling everyone about your relationship no one has to know... Not even kokomi

-He would most definitely bite you but not to hard! He still possesses some of his animalistic traits so why wouldn't he let them out on you?

-He's the sweetest lover in the world! He is clingy and will do anything for you! But not when he's around people he knows of course he still has to act serious sometimes

-very silly boy that's for sure but probably already made up the future for the two of you<3 how about kids? Maybe just marrying? Either way he will be happy!

𝑰𝒕𝒕𝒐

-oh oh oh... You got yourself the greatest oni of all time good luck...

-his and my birthday aren't much apart so i just KNOW he is clingy he definitely is! Every second he gets to he will hold you or have his hands on any place you allow him to

-hes very protective and will glare at everyone who looks at you

-the first person who knows your in a relationship is shinobu... She even knew it before you did. _.

-He's very happy to be with you and will show it in every way he can

-if your comfortable with it he will put you on his shoulders so you can see the world from your lovers shoulders

-when you two are home he will grab you and cuddle with you hours for fucking hours!

-he is very talkative and needs someone who listens to him better if even speaks as much as him!

-will grin at you when you trace the red paint on his body patting your head how adorable you look while doing that

-overall a great boyfriend he would do anything for you

Tighnari

-wow! Congrats you got yourself the fennec fox to fall head over heel for you beware of his endless talking of knowledge

-he's very smart and rant about botanic and everything that happened on duty until your ears start to bleed

-he's a loving partner and will take care of you whenever you feel sick or just bad, just don't eat things you shouldn't eat or he will get annoyed

-will he bite? Not often but you will get a few nibbles here and there when he's bored

-you're one of the very few people he will allow to touch his ears and tail he will get very embarrassed so don't do it in public

-he will definitely help you with everything you have problems with hes very supportive

-he can't stand liers, don't lie to him and you will be fine

-he will definitely not tell cyno! He just knows cyno will make unfunny jokes about it

Yae miko

-you got the the pretty shrine maiden to fall in love with you congrats you got the most teasing kitsune to ever exist!

-she will tease you 24/7 if it's just sliding her hand over your spine to get an reaction or just getting close enough to your face to kiss you just to pull away, yae got every possible trick up her sleeve

-whenever you say something she thinks is something you should shut up about or just something that doesn't make sense she will pat on your head with her book

-she doesn't sleep much but loves to have your head on her lap while her hands are intertwined with your hair (if you got hair)

-she doesn't tell any of the maidens but the way she acts with you gets a bunch of attention and pulls suspicion with it

-she will hum you to sleep and hold you for your comfort

-don't expect her to do what you want she's definitely not the submissive one in this relationship

-she's the best girlfriend someone can have>o<

[xxnghtclls]

Harder

Explicit True Form Sukuna x Reader (Permission Universe 🥰)

Summary: During a cold winter night out in the forest, you ask Sukuna to warm you up.

This takes place a night before the final chapter of Permission. However, I think it's possible to read it without having read Permission, since it doesn't include much mention of the plot, but! - beware - it does mention the ending. However, I do think it makes more sense if you've read Permission tho.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 4,8k

Tags below the cut.

Tags:

Lot‘s of fucking, Sukuna is a Little Shit, Four-Armed Sukuna, Established Relationship, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Double Penetration, Sukuna Has Two Penises, Porn with Feelings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Finger Sucking, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Outdoor Sex, Choking, Gentle Sex, Rough Sex, Monsterfucking

—————

„I think you should say it more often.“

„Say what?“

„Queen.“

Sukuna sneers at you, before he keeps chewing on that piece of meat he just ripped off a bone.

„You rarely do. Can‘t even remember the last time you did.“ you continue, while poking with a stick into the fire, adjusting the wood, while your back faces your King.

No response.

Asshole.

The night is cold, as you’re sitting in front of your campfire. A freezing breeze flows through the branches of the forest trees around you, as the moonlight shines down upon you.

„I just think you could say it once in a while, after I endured that nightmare ritual of yours.“ you say playfully, cocking your head to the side, while staring into the flames, poking.

“I know you’re proud of it.” he chuckles darkly, before he spits a little piece of bone out of his mouth.

A pause.

„I am…” you say in thought and after a moment, you turn back to him. “That’s why I want to hear it from your lips. It makes me know, that you’re proud of it too. Having me and being mine.” you continue in a soft voice.

He stops chewing, as he listens to your words, looking at you.

And he squeezes at your heart… before he leans over to you and flicks his finger against your forehead.

“Enough now, Princess.” he says gently.

“There it is!” your complain loudly, pointing at him with your finger.

He shrugs and grins playfully, before he slides down to the ground, off the log he’s been sitting on and leans his back against it. You can’t help to think that he looks cozy with that black cloak around his shoulders and his wide, white pants. The way the cloak gently lays upon his naked skin and muscles lets you feel a heartbeat in your cunt.

But-

You turn back to the fire and keep poking. It’s all fun and games, but in the end, you mean what you said.

I want him to be proud, too.

You feel his eyes boring into your back and feel his grin growing.

Motherfucker.

“My Lady shouldn’t care much about what I’m calling her, when she knows what she is.”

You cock your eyebrow, before you slowly turn to look over your shoulder to him.

“My Lady?” you repeat in question.

His eyebrow twitches and his smile turns into a proud one.

So pretty.

“I will grant you this one.” you say hesitantly. “Does it flow better over your lips?”

“It does.” his voice a whisper, as his eyes twitch slightly.

A pause.

And you both look at each other, drown into each others eyes, almost as if you could undress each other with them, with the sound of the fire crackling in the background.

“Does it flow to your lips when I say it like that?” his eyes jump down between your legs, before he speaks with a deep, seductive voice. “My Lady?”

And it does flow to your lips, make them feel your heartbeat and salivate.

Make them hungry.

You blink, before you let go of that stick, before you stand up and walk to where Sukuna’s feet are resting. Arousal between your legs and in his eyes, as you slowly untie your obi.

“It’s cold out here.” you say sternly, as you undress your Kimono, until his crimson eyes meet your naked chest, tits and cunt. “Warm me up!”

The fabric falls onto the ground, as his eyes wander over your body. His stare causes the tingling feeling between your legs to increase further and further, wonder if he already can see some smear on your inner thighs. Slowly his lips turn into a pout, before his eyes shoot back up to meet yours.

And he doesn’t say anything, as you start to shiver, as the hairs on your skin start to stand up.

It‘s december after all.

Sukuna‘s expression turns neutral again, dark eyes just watch you standing right there at his feet. He‘s just watching you wait for his command.

Or does he?

“I’m cold, my King.” you whisper, earning a cock of his eyebrow.

But no answer.

Hm.

You take a step forward, the tense situation makes you feel your folds with every step already, before you’re standing inbetween his legs. Slowly your right foot, crawls over his bulge, massaging his dicks through the fabric of his pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling, as you can feel him pulsate and twitch beneath the clothes. His bottom pair of eyes follow your motions, while his upper pair stays fixated on you.

So hot.

“Cold.” you breathe and your limbs start trembling.

Sukuna shifts a little, presses his bulge more against the friction of your foot, while he watches how your nipples harden more each second.

“C’mere.” he finally whispers in a welcoming, warm tone, while he taps with his fingers on his lap.

Tap. Tap.

You take another step and let yourself fall harshly onto his lap. Hungrily you grab his hair and shove his face against yours. Sukuna kisses you back, with need, as his upper pair of arms wrap around you and grab your hair as well, pushing you even closer against him. You can feel his dicks throbbing against your cunt.

And soon you can feel the arousal not only in your folds, but also in your abdomen.

It almost drives you insane.

“So cold, my Love.” you breathe at his lips without air. “I need you so badly.”

You grab his cloak, feel the fabric between your fingers, how warm it is from the skin of your King, before suddenly Sukuna elevates his hips to free himself from his pants with his bottom pair of arms.

His dicks slap against your ass, causing you to whimper against his lips. Hands find your ass, spread your cheeks and slap your left one harshly.

Loudly.

Slap!

He groans into your mouth and you moan back, out of pain and pleasure and impatience.

Impatience.

You grab between your legs, reach for his upper dick and hungrily move it through your slick.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Between your lips.

God.

You hiss against his lips and close your eyes, the feeling of his skin against your wet core so intense already, almost feeling like you’re dripping down onto his meat, while your breath is trembling from arousal.

And so is his. Sukuna’s upper pair of hands wander from your hair and neck down to your tits, before they pinch and move your hard nipples between his fingers. His left hand slaps your rear a second time, before he reaches down for his bottom dick and places it at your leaky hole. You open up your eyes again and look into his crimson ones, before you lean back and press his upper dick against his bottom one. His chest keeps rising and falling, quick enough for you to notice, before you lower yourself and push both of his dicks against your entrance.

“Agh.” he hisses, while you curse under your breath. Slowly, you push him into you, so sweet and thick, thinking you could cum from this feeling alone.

“Fuckkk.” your quiet voice is jittering, but you take your time. The feeling is too good, too intense to rush it.

You might cum in an instant.

Sliding his cocks fully into you, your clit hits his pelvis.

So good.

Your heart is racing, as Sukuna’s right upper hand, crawls up your chest, your throat, to your mouth. His hooded eyes look at you and he nudges his head at you, giving you the silent command to open your mouth.

And you do.

Your tongue swirls around his index and middle finger, tasting him, feeling his skin, before you close your mouth around them.

And you suck.

Sukuna’s lip twitches at the feeling and you feel him tensing up beneath you. He must be so close to start pounding into you relentlessly. You close your eyes, dive into the taste of his fingers, enjoy the feeling of them pressing into your mouth, while you start moving up and down so gently and slowly. It‘s so intense. You feel everything. Every tiny little motion. It has your breath jittering.

A squeeze on your heart makes you open your eyes again, to meet his blown pupils, so aroused and in love with that sight of you sitting on his dicks.

Sukuna pulls his fingers out of your mouth, before he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, exposing your teeth. Your breath turns more vocal with every motion, the hot air coming out of your mouth hitting Sukuna’s fingers, before he starts gently rocking his hips in synch with your motions.

So deep.

You start moaning against his hand, feeling so good for him.

“Coating my cocks so well.” he whispers like in trance, while his hand wanders to your throat, squeezing gently. Heat rises to your face, before eyes fall down to his torso, watch how his muscles tense and flatten with each gentle thrust.

“In the essence of your cunt.” he continues inbetween your moans, his voice raspy. “So slick and wet.”

He pulls you closer at your throat, before his bottom pair of hands dig into your ass.

“So sweet and tasty.” he whispers into your ear. “My Lady.”

The heat his words are causing in your abdomen and face is cooking your skin. Each gentle thrust and each motion of your hips feels divine, connected and synchronised, pressing into your sweet spot harder and harder, while you listen to the slick noises that your skins are causing. You’re moaning so loudly now, as you can’t suppress the pleasure he’s causing in your body.

And you‘re so close. Already.

“I’m about to cum.” you whine and his fingers around your throat tighten.

“Not yet.” his nose brushes against the shell of your ear.

Fuck.

“I can’t-“

“Not yet.”

His voice.

So arrogant.

You’re concentrating so hard, but you’re so close, so so close, start to clench and choke his dicks, about to snap, when suddenly he pulls at your throat, pulls you off his meat. Your face meets the cloak on his shoulder and your body starts shaking from the pleasure, as you’re fighting your body and mind to not cum just like that, without having him in you.

“Keh Keh Keh.” he giggles so deviously into your ear, while you’re trying to stay on this earth, as you hold on to him, dig your nails into him, as you groan and moan into his neck and skin.

“Shhh.” he hushes between giggles.

“Shut up.” you whine, before you bite into the fabric, that’s covering his shoulder, making him groan in amusement.

“Tch tch tch.” he clicks his tongue. “That’s not how a Lady speaks to her King.”

He let’s go of your throat and while your body slowly recovers from your denied orgasm, you raise your head to look at him. Sukuna’s badly acted, disappointed pout makes you want to shove his face in between your thighs, to finish what his cocks started.

“No?” you breathe, raising your eyebrow at him. He cocks his eyebrow back at you, your right hand slowly crawls to his throat, up to his chin, before your middle and ring finger push onto his lips.

And he opens his mouth, gives the underside of your fingers a dedicated lick, before he closes his lips around them. His eyes grow soft, as he starts sucking, watching every reaction that paints onto your face.

And you do the same. Can’t help to think how beautiful he looks, how his brow furrows at your taste, how his breath hits your hand with every second. Sukuna’s hands on your ass gently knead your flesh, while his other pair of hands brush over the skin of your sides.

“You’re so beautiful…” you whisper, making him sigh against your fingers. “My King.”

He purrs against your fingers, as his eyes look at you, so needy, so aroused, as you retract your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting your fingertips to his tongue.

“Now warm me up again.” you continue, making his lip twitch and curl into a smirk.

His left hand leaves your side, reaching inbetween your legs and propping his dicks back up against your entrance. The hands on your ass spread your cheeks, as he lowers you, as he slides himself back into your insides.

And he goes slowly. The pleasure starts rising again with every inch you slide onto him and you let your forehead bump against his, as you’re breathing heavily against his face. Sukuna’s breath quickens as well, his mouth opening in pleasure, before he gives your bottom lip a single lick. You moan loudly, want to press your thighs together, as the slick feeling of his lengths intensifies. Then he starts rocking his hips. So good and slow, picking up your pleasure from before, making you feel like a puddle immediately.

In and out.

In and out.

“I wanna cum.” you breathe into his face.

In and out.

In and out.

He groans into your mouth.

In and out.

In and out.

Fuck.

“Gonna cum.” you whine breathlessly, as your fingers dig into the back of his neck and hair

You clench and clench and clench, so wet and soaking-

And you snap.

Sukuna starts rocking his hips more and more to make you ride on your orgasm, as you keep moaning your high into Sukuna’s face, almost drooling onto his chin and chest. He moans in synch with you, obviously enjoying your high as much as you.

And then he slows down again, as you’re panting and trying to regain your consciousness. His dicks are pulsating in your cunt. He must be so starved.

But he’s patient.

After a moment, after catching your breath, you press a loving kiss onto his lips, before you lean to his right ear, your face brushing against his mask in the process.

“I told you to warm me up.” you whisper, like this was just the first bite of a three course menu. “That’s not how you treat your Lady.”

A deep chuckle escapes his chest, before you feel him shift beneath you. Positioning his feet on the ground, you know he’s ready to truly warm you up.

Ready to fuck.

And he starts a steady rhythm, unexpected light for his usual manners.

He wants to play.

Slap…Slap…Slap…Slap.

Your fucked out clit doesn’t feel much from this type of motions, but for now, you enjoy him as he is. Feeling him sliding in and out, feeling his hands on your ass and on your sides, as you start to place chaste kisses on his neck.

He groans and squeezes at your heart, while you keep kissing. Then licking and biting and back to kissing. Sukuna tilts his head to give you better access to his neck. You keep going, showering his neck in kisses and marks, while your right hand moves across his cheek, caressing it.

I love you.

Slap…Slap…Slap…Slap.

A final kiss on his neck and collarbone, before your lips reach for his earlobe. You’re still being rocked back and forth from his pace, but-

I need more.

You gently bite and tug on the jewellery of his lobe, making him hiss and chuckle.

“I’m still cold.” you whisper.

“Oh yeah?” his arrogant tone chimes in your ear.

“Mhmh.” you hum.

Slap!

A harsh thrust, making you moan out loud.

“Harder.” you breathe.

A purr vibrates against your chest, before he-

Slap! Slap!

-thrusts harshly a second and third time, before he slows down again.

Those felt so good.

“Harder, my King.” you repeat your plea, whining, before you feel his hands spread your asscheeks once again. Suddenly a warm, wet tongue probes at your unattended asshole, licking and pushing into it. The sensation makes you moan softly into his ear, before he picks up his pace again.

A bit faster now.

Slap..Slap..Slap..Slap..

“Harder.” you moan.

Slap!

Another single harsh thrust.

“Agh!”

So intense now with his tongue in your asshole.

“Like this?” he whispers so deeply.

Slap..Slap..Slap..Slap..

You start to dive into this feeling again, start to huff and sigh and moan into his ear. Nails dig into the fabric of his cloak and tug, as you bury your face back into his shoulder.

And you shake your head.

Suddenly he lifts your ass up and his dicks leave your cunt, before his other hand reaches back between your legs. Sukuna lines his upper dick back up against your soaked hole and pushes the tip in, before he takes his bottom dick and presses it against your asshole.

And it slides in, so easy, so slick and easy, that your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Or like this?” he growls.

Slap!

You cry out against his shoulder, drool upon his cloak, before you nod your head.

“Yes! Harder!” you whine, earning another hum and purr from his chest.

“My needy little slut.” he chuckles, before his pace grows rapidly.

Slap.Slap.Slap.Slap.

“You like this?” he coos between your moans, as he wraps his upper pair of arms around your back, pressing you closer onto his torso.

“Harder!” you whine, unable to function now, before he slides down more onto the ground, changing the angle of his thrusts.

“Fuck!” he growls, before slamming himself into you even harder.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

You cry out into his neck, almost hear your noises echoing back from the forest around you. Using the full strength of his thighs and feet now, forcing his dicks to reach so deep and violently into you.

And oh you love it.

Love how he loves using you like that.

Love how he’s fucking you like that.

God.

He’s holding you so tight, making you unable to move, just able to feel his sweet violence on you. The slaps of your skin and the cries of your throat echo through the whole forest. Sukuna tunes in, as his heavy breathing turns into grunts and moans as well.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

The pleasure in your abdomen rises again, as he keeps smashing himself into your insides. His pace is merciless, as well as his stamina.

And you know he could do this for hours.

Grabbing your asscheeks tight, he slams your pelvis down onto him to meet his hips from below. His abs are rubbing against your own stomach, becomes slick, as you both start to sweat from the motions and the fire right next to you.

Slap!Slap!-

And suddenly he stops. The sudden halt of movement lets the blood tingle in your veins, lets the sensation in your walls become so intense. He’s panting, before he suddenly moves. Without leaving your holes, he leans forward, almost slams you onto the ground right next to the fire and puts his weight on top of you. A loud sigh escapes his mouth, before he leans down and kisses you hungrily, before he slowly starts to thrust again. Sukuna grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, into his flickering crimson eyes, the illumination from the fire dancing in his orbs.

His nails dig into your cheeks, while he hooks his bottom pair of arms below your knees, folding you in half, make your back dig itself into the cold ground.

“My sweet slut.” he coos breathlessly, before-

Slap!

You cry out in pleasure, as he picks up the harsh pace from before, his dicks reaching so deep into you, knocking at your brain and skull.

“I’m still cold.” you whine, with tears in your eyes, as you wrap your hands around his jaw.

“I know.” he grunts, as he keeps going and going, as the heat from his body keeps radiating onto your whole skin except your back.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

Sukuna keeps fucking and fucking, the force and his weight causing your knees to finally meet the ground right next to your sides, as his upper pair of arms steady him next to your head. His constant pounding cause more and more tears to form in the corners of your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder.

You feel his dicks swell up and you know he’s close, as he keeps moaning into your ear.

“You gonna cum?” you whine in between moans.

“Gonna fill you up.” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up nice and warm from the inside, just like you want me to.”

And they swell impossibly thicker, make you clench so hard around them. You’re so close, too, don’t want this to be over.

But you can’t hold it. After two more thrusts and you’re snapping again, melting into a shaking puddle beneath his figure, as you bite and scream into his shoulder.

And he slips out again, doesn’t let you ride it out this time.

Doesn‘t want to cum yet.

“Fuckkkk.” you curse him, as you’re left unable to move, his grip on your knees so tight and his weight on you so heavy.

“Gonna make you warm you up real good now.” he coos. “Hot like fire.” he growls, as he picks you up again and leans back again. Lying on his back, he cradles you in his arms on top of him, your legs dangling over his bottom right arm, his other arm supporting the back of your head.

“Like molten metal.” he keeps talking in a thick voice, before spitting into his upper right hand and reaching for your asshole. Coating it with more of his spit and giving it a wet lick with a tongue on his palm, before he reaches for his dicks again, inserting them leaky tips back into your holes, before he reaches with the very same hand for your jaw, grabbing it tightly, making you stare into his eyes.

“So hot and warm, just how my little Queen wants to be.”

There it is.

His words and the way he’s holding you, make you want to bawl your eyes out, but you behave yourself, just let your eyes scream your love for him into his face.

Sukuna puts up his right food, supporting himself, ready to thrust again. You feel the warmth of the fire on your back, as he starts slowly.

It’s too much.

Almost.

His eyes grow soft, his mouth falls open and his brow furrows in pleasure, as he keeps staring at your fucked out face, pulling you so close.

So intimate.

Despite being outside you can smell the sex and filth that the both of you imprinted into this place.

“Fucking me so good.” you slur, while your mind is elsewhere, just feeling him and his being, while your cheek is pressing against his chest.

His lip twitches, before he smirks proudly.

Slap!

The way he’s holding you, the way your thighs are pressed together, cause you to feel more friction against your clit and holes.

“Make me melt.” you beg into his eyes. “Let our souls merge.”

He chuckles.

“Poetic.” he flares his red eyes at you, before he picks up his pace.

Harder.

Harder.

Harder!

Suddenly his upper left hand grabs your hair from behind and yanks your head into your neck.

Harshly.

You gasp in pain, as your eyes stare into the flames behind you.

So close.

So hot.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

“Gonna make you melt and melt myself into you.” he growls.

His thrusts ignite a spark through your whole being, accompanied with his words, they carry your mind back to the present, make you realise he’s holding your face so close to the fire. It feels so hot against your skin.

Sukuna’s grip on your hair is so tight, that his nails are digging into your skull.

And you love it.

Love his sweet harshness he‘s using on you.

Slowly the pleasure starts rising again, your cunt still so wet and soaking from all the penetration and orgasms he put you through. Sukuna’s deep moans echo in your ear, before his teeth find your exposed neck and he starts nibbling, biting and licking your sensitive skin.

It hurts.

And you love it.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

You cry out, as he suddenly bites into your shoulder, while his arm below your knees pull you tighter against him, as his pace grows impossibly harder, faster. So animalistic and brutal, as his dicks keep slamming against your mind again, making you unable to breathe and think.

And he fucks and fucks and fucks your poor and enjoying holes, marks your skin as his with his teeth, as the heat rises to your face again.

“Yours.” a muffled growl against your shoulder.

Oh god.

It makes the heat from within and the fire mix on your cheeks and ears. His voice causes your body to tense up and suddenly something in you snaps.

Your eyes roll back and you gasp, your vision grows foggy, but sharp. Your senses numb, but heighten, as your heart rate exhilarates. Yanking your head out of his hold, you look back into Sukuna’s face again.

“There you are.” he hisses, so aroused.

Slap!

You slap him across the face, before your hand finds his throat, pressing tight.

“Mine!” you hiss between moans, the pitch of your voice being shaken from the velocity he‘s using on you.

Sukuna’s grin grows wide, as he raises his chin, exposing his throat even more, groaning in pleasure, letting you choke him as hard as you can, enjoying the pressure, not stopping his violent thrusts. Your face paints itself in pleasure, your mouth falls open, as your other hand reaches for his face, pushing your thumb against his bottom lip.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

With a loud moan, he opens his mouth and you hook your thumb against his bottom teeth, forcing him to keep his mouth opened for you.

His hold on you tightens even more, almost feels like he’s going to crush your little figure in his arms, as his dicks start swelling thicker and thicker. You notice that he clenches his jaw, before he blinks and his eyes roll back, before he tilts his lust ridden face back to you. White orbs stare into each others soul, as his expression turns aggressive and you choke him harder. His lips twitch and his dicks throb so violently in your insides.

Oh how he loves it.

And you do, too.

This aggressive, sinful sight makes you step so close to the edge of nirvana.

Again.

And he would treat you like this.

Again and again.

Because you’re his and he is yours.

For now and all eternity.

Your skin is burning from the fire and from the heat between your bodies, feeling as hot as ever, feeling so in love with him, feeling so surrender to him.

Because he is your King.

Your God and Lover.

For now and all eternity.

Your moans grow into screams, as he keeps slamming himself into you and your sweet spot, so used, so so used already, but he feels so good, so so good, that you can’t help it.

And your holes snap around his dicks, making you cum a third time, so intense, so hot and soft like molten metal. Walls grip onto his lengths oh so tightly, trying to milk him and his essence into your womb. Crying your moans into the hot air around you, while his mouth closes around your thumb, sucking and biting down onto your bone, feeling your pulsating walls around his lengths, as slowly his growls become so loud, as he starts tensing up more and more beneath you. You pull your thumb out of his mouth, smearing his spit onto his cheek, as the end is near.

Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap! Slap!Slap!Slap!Slap!

And his brow furrows and his heart pulls at yours, before he comes undone, grunting and growling so deep and loud into your face, pumping you full of his seed and cum, so warm and thick.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

And then he slows down. His breath jittering from the exhaustion. The smell of sweat and sex in your nose, as his slow and final thrusts push his essence into you.

So sweet, so deep.

I love you.

Ragged breaths fill the air around you, as both of your minds find back to reality. Your vision and sensation grows back to normal, as you still lay in his arms looking at him. His fingertips brush against your thighs and shoulder, as you watch him and how his red orbs blink back into his eyes, so tired, while he looks up into the sky.

And you look up, too, smiling, feeling warm.

Here with him.

And you both watch the moon and how it watches you.

You and your Love.

Together.

————

Taglist:

@rosemaydone321

[caoimhewrites]

Missing

how TF 141 + König react to you, their daughter going missing. Read Pt 2 here and Pt 3 here

CW: Mentions of kidnapping, surveillance (kinda), canon typical violence (mentions). Nothing crazy really but reader beware obvi

WC: 791

Ghost does not play about the people he cares about... especially you. It's been just you and him for years and when you disappear he absolutely loses it. He is DETERMINED to hunt down whoever took you. Doesn't matter how far they've taken you because he will be there the instant he figures out where you've gone. Gets the 141 to help him look and he spends day in and day out pouring over files and ANY information that could give him a clue on where you are. The other 141 boys try to keep him out of it, telling him this is too personal for him but he doesn't care at all. He will be leading this mission if it's the last thing he does.

König has had cameras in and out of the house for YEARS. He's been a soldier for a very long time and has seen A LOT so he's very very very serious about your constant safety. He regularly checks your phone and keeps tabs on who you interact with. Which is why he's so surprised when you disappear without a trace one day. He came home and you were just... gone. His first instinct was panic. He tore the house apart looking for you, leaving no place unchecked. When that proved useless he called EVERY contact in your phone. Yes he kept a list. He's right back to panic when no one knows where you are. He wastes no time searching through your room and all electronics. He'll take whatever clue he can when it comes to finding you. Just like Simon, he will be up 24/7 looking for you. Sleep means nothing to him until you are back home safe. When he finds you, trust he will be ruthless to anyone who tries to stop him or hurt you. He's carrying you out of there himself and he won't let you go until you're back home.

Price, when he sees your empty bedroom and phone on your nightstand he's immediately ready to do something crazy. Price is dad of the year... obviously, so protecting you is his main job. Forget being a soldier, you're priority #1 always. He blames himself at first, thinking he never should have left you alone, should have been even more involved than he already is, if that's even possible. He's banned from leading the search for you which eats him alive. He knows he's too close to all of this and being involved could end badly but he can't handle not knowing anything. He has the 141 boys secretly give him any updates on you. Is it allowed? Fuck no. Does he care? Absolutely not, not even a little bit. He hardly eats or sleeps at all, so consumed by his worry and lingering guilt. It's obviously not his fault but he can't help but feel like it is. His brain runs in circles, creating all sorts of horrible scenarios that make him physically sick. Were you taken by someone he knows? Did they take you to get back at him? Did he accidentally reveal something about you to an enemy?

Gaz has Price in speed dial the second you don't get home. Curfew is 10, by 10:05 the entire 141 is on the search. It's like Kyle has become a different person without you. He's usually pretty collected but he's absolutely out of his mind with worry. He's impulsive and angry. Price has to rein him in several times every day until you're found. He's ready to run in, guns blazing when they finally get your location. He's snappy and impatient, lashing out when there's a dead end in their search. He's on the edge of his seat when they finally track you down and go to get you out of there. He's like a man possessed when he gets his hands on your captors.

Soap is completely devastated when you don't come home. He's always been a bit less strict than the others but when you go out with your friends and don't come home even by the next morning he's absolutely riddled with anxiety. He calls your friend but she says you never had plans with her last night and hasn't seen you in days. This sends him into a horrible dread. He feels like he's suffocating not knowing where you are. Like Price, his mind creates horrible worst case scenarios. Simon tries to remind him that they are on it and the chance of whoever took you getting very far is low but Soap is completely lost in his own head. He can't shake the feeling that he'll never see you again. Of course he will, but not even Simon can convince him.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who (5/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

NOTES: This was a nightmare to write, between the holidays and writer’s block, I wanted to die. I hope you like it. If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee . I promise next chapter will contain SMUT, so beware of that.

“What are you doing, Y/n?” Said Yunho as soon as he dragged you out of the club.

“What are YOU doing, Yunho? How the fuck did you know I was here?” You stumbled backwards, anxiety and alcohol are not a good combo.

“I came to talk, Minho brought me here. I have spent every single day of the last three months trying to find and talk to you, and all this time you were doing this?” Hurt in his voice, his face red and eyes glossy. You examined him for a second, deep dark eyebags sunken his eyes, his lips cracked and pale, and his once broad chest now looked thinner, bony. He looked so different, you almost couldn’t recognize him.

“It’s not like that…” He cut you off.

“Then, how is it? Because to me it looked like you were making out with your so-called best friend. Explain it to me, Y/n.”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” You stomped, getting closer, “You have a lot of nerve coming in here and accusing me of anything,” You jabbed your finger against his chest again and again. “We are not together. You drove me away. You broke my heart.” Tears of anger streamed down your face, and your wounded heart disintegrated with each word.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, please come home with me, we can talk and…”

You turned around when you heard Han coming out of the club, Minho right behind him, following a very angry-looking Christopher.

“Bang Chan, calm down!” Said Minho.

“What are you doing here, Jeong?” Chan intervened, pushing you behind him.

“This doesn’t concern you, Chan. Please let me talk to her.” He tried going past Chris.

“Why don’t you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to see you. Fuck off.” Chan’s voice laced with venom, alcohol and rage ran through his veins, clouding his judgment.

“Chan.” The taller man tried again.

“Fuck you, Yunho. Where were you before when she needed you, huh?” Chris pushed the taller man, “Where were you when she spent every single night crying herself to sleep?” Push. “Where were you when she felt worthless?” Push.

“Chan, stop. You are drunk.” Han said.

“That’s right. You were not there, but guess who was? Me. I spent every single minute comforting her, reassuring her that it was not her fault, and helping her move on.”

“Oh, I am well aware of how much you would love for her to get over us, I’ve known it for a long time.” Yunho pushed back, “But I’ll be dead the day I let that happen.”

“Yunho, please stop.”

“I fucked up, okay? I’m not saying I didn’t, but I want to fix it. If I have to get on my knees I will, if I have to beg I will, whatever you want me to do I’ll do it. Please give me a chance.” Yunho said kneeling.

“Yunho.” You said in tears.

Chan scoffed, shaking his head, “Why should you get a second chance?”

Minho physically cringed, he knew it wasn’t about Yunho and Mingi getting a chance to redeem themselves, it was about Chan not getting the same opportunity.

“Chan, buddy, please back off.” He said while grabbing his friend by the shoulders.

Chan shook him off. He looked at you, “Y/n you know best. Please don’t go back to them.” He pleaded with what little strength he had left. But you could only see a begging Yunho on the floor, a mix of emotions reflected in your eyes, anger, fear, but on top of them was longing. He could feel his heart break all over again, he would never be at the receiving of those feelings. The door had closed a long time, and even if you didn’t know it, he did, it would never open again. He needed to get away from the scene. A knot forming in his throat, all his bottled-up love dying in his chest, he was going to throw up.

“Y/n, please come home, we can talk, we won't pressure you or anything, just please, please come home.” Yunho extended his hand your way.

You turned to look at Chan, but he no longer was there. You found Jisung’s eyes, looking for an answer in them. On one hand, your heart craved him, wanting nothing more than for him to take you in his arms. But then the more rational part of your brain reminded you of the hell you went through in the last months. Could you go back to them? And if not, could you live without them? Your best friend looked you in the eyes, worry and uncertainty filled them, but in the end, he simply nodded.

Yunho was waiting for you, silently begging for you to take his hand, to come back to them. And when you finally did, you could see the way his entire body relaxed, you couldn’t blame him, a part of you also felt at peace after all this time.

“This doesn’t mean we are back together; I hope you know that.” You whispered to him.

“I know.” He looked around for Minho, “We are taking a cab, I don’t want to bother you anymore.” He nodded back.

Jisung approached and gently embraced you in his arms. “Call me, okay?”

“Hannie, about Chan…” He cut you off.

“Don’t worry about him, we’ll take care of that.” He gave you a weak smile, before turning to his husband.

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

Yunho opened the door as soon as the cab arrived, sat next to you and told the driver where to go. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, sweaty hands gripped the ends of your skirt, and eyes that didn’t dare look away from the window.

“Are you cold?” He said, already taking his jacket off to give it to you.

“No, no, I’m okay.” Your brain made a connection a second later, “Wait, where’s…”

His phone went off like crazy, texts and calls showed up all at the same time, he pulled out of his pocket revealing the contact, “Shit.” He pressed to answer.

“Hey, Mingi, did you…” You could hear the exasperated voice of the younger man behind the phone, not being able to make out what he was saying.

“No, Mingi, I’m…” Cut off again.

“I know, but please…” Again.

“Will you …” And again.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. Oh, how you missed them.

“Mingi, will you please just shut up?” He whispered, “Listen, go home, I’m on my way there.”

Mumbling.

“You can leave, umm she’s, umm she’s with me.” He said as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Mumbling.

“Go home, we’ll meet you there.” He hung up.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, you didn’t know where to look, or what to do or say. Yunho was in a similar situation. Twice you caught him almost putting his hand on your knee, before remembering the situation you were in, muscle memory it must have been.

You knew the streets on your way to their place, left turn here, right turn there. A convenience store you used to walk to late at night to get ramen when you couldn't sleep. A dog park they swore you would go to with a new puppy when things “calmed down” at work. It made your heart sink to remember what you used to be, what you used to have.

So lost in your head, you didn’t notice the ride had ended, Yunho handed the driver some money and immediately took your hand, getting out of the car. The nerves getting worse each second, you could feel yourself shaking. The alcohol in your stomach bubbling threatening to make its way back up.

And then you saw Mingi.

He was sitting outside the door, his head between his knees, gently rocking himself back and forth, and you could hear some mumbling but couldn’t quite get what he was saying. He looked so small, so fragile, and while it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. Without thinking you approached him, kneeling by his side.

“Hello, Mingi.” You whispered.

He had been so into his thoughts he almost fell back when he heard you. His chest went up and down quickly, trying not to choke on the anxiety, his eyes doubting who they were seeing, but he tried to compose himself. “Hey, Y/n.” His hands shifted, but he tensed to prevent them from touching you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

A few moments went by, neither of you knowing what to say. “Why don’t we go in? We have a lot to talk about and it's freezing cold out here.” You had almost forgotten Yunho was also there.

“Okay.”

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

Minho and Jisung didn’t have a clue what to say on the ride back home. Chan was in the backseat, His head resting against the window, small tears threatening to come out of his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them, not until he was sure no one would see him.

“Chan.” Jisung tried.

“Don’t, just don’t.”

“Chan, you know this is for the best. They need to solve whatever is going on…” Minho started but was quickly cut off by the older man.

“And you were so eager to help them do that, weren’t you?”

“Chan, that’s not…”

“Leave it alone, Minho. You’ve done enough.”

Jisung didn’t want to give up just yet, “Channie, please. Minho would never do anything to hurt you, but you know she’s still in love with them, and…”

“Don’t you think I know that? I have seen it every single day for the last few months. I have seen her cry every goddamn night because she missed them. I’ve seen her reading their conversations again and again. Hell, I have heard everything single fucking detail about those two, I did it then and I did it now. But tonight, for a single moment in almost six years, she didn’t think about them, she didn’t see them in me, it was only me and her. She kissed me. She wanted me. For once, she was mine again.”

Minho felt bad for what was about to come from his lips, but it needed to be done, “Then why did she leave with Yunho?” The car stopped.

And Chan got off, slamming the door on his way out.

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

­The three of you were sitting on the floor of the living room. Yunho was leaning against an old couch Seonghwa had gifted you when you all moved in together. Mingi was next to a shabby coffee table you used to use as an “everything” table when you couldn’t afford anything else. You haven’t lived here in months, yet it still felt like home.

You had rehearsed thousands of times what you would say to them if you ever were in this situation. All the things that they did or said that made you die on the inside, you would cry and scream all you wanted and they would have to listen. You would tell Yunho how much you hated how cold he had turned. Tell Mingi how tired you were of him always coming home in a bad mood. Tell them how much you had missed them emotionally, and also physically, how they hadn’t stopped to look at you in months, let alone even touched you.

But as opposed to all the scenarios in your head, your mouth was dry.

“I’m sorry.” Mingi was the first who dared to speak, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if you weren’t sitting next to him. “I’m so sorry about everything we did, I’m sorry for taking you for granted, I’m sorry about neglecting you, I’m sorry I was not there when you needed me, I’m sorry for not listening, I’m sorry for making you leave, I’m sorry for…” And so, the word vomit began, it came laced with months and months of tears Mingi didn’t know he had yet to spill.

“Okay, okay. Mingi, calm down.” You moved closer to him, wiping his cheeks.

“Nothing’s okay if you are not here, Y/n. I’m not okay if you are not here, Yunho is not either.” He pointed to Yunho.

You turned to look at the taller man, only to find him in an equal or worse state than the man in front of you, “I’m so sorry, my love.” He said between gasps.

Seeing them like this was enough to put you in the same state.

“I miss you so much, Y/n,” Yunho said while coming close to you. Both of them surrounded you, trapping you between their arms and sobs. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for not making you my priority.”

“We will do anything, whatever you want you’ve got it, just please don’t leave again, please,” Mingi begged.

“Okay, let's talk, please?”

They both nodded and so the night began.

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

“You have to talk to me about how you are feeling, you cannot bottle up and expect me to be okay with not knowing what’s going on in your life.” You said leaning against the couch, playing with Mingi’s fingers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to trouble you.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Yeah, I may not know all those fancy law terms you and Jongho use all the time,” He giggled, “but I want to know if things are going well, if you are having trouble with a client or if you are stressed about a case, and not find out by Jongho calling me to tell me how much of an asshole you are being at work.”

He groaned, “That fucking brat always tells on me.”

“And you,” You looked at Yunho, “when are going to stop that childish rivalry with Minho? You are both grown adults, he’s married and you are engaged, for god’s sake.” You spoke without thinking.

“I’m still engaged?” He looked at you, a little smirk on his face.

“You know what I mean.” You nudged slightly. Mingi was looking at you with the same look on his face, making you blush deeply.

Between laughs and memories, Yunho’s bright look decomposed. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips tightened in a line, he straightened himself and cleared his throat, “There is one thing I want to talk about.”

Both of you looked at him.

“Back at the club, and I know I don’t have any kind of right to complain, but,” He gulped, “What is going on with Chan.”

Oh, right. That.

“Um…, I…, um…” Trying to find the right words. Mingi straightened himself, confused about what Yunho was talking about.

“We won’t be mad; I only want to know if something is going on.”

“Well, um…, Han noticed I was a little distracted tonight, he knew I was still thinking about you two. And until that point, I didn’t know if we were over for good. So…” You scratched your eyebrow, “he suggested it may be time to move on, and that Chan could help me with that.” You mumbled that last part.

Silence.

“I thought Jisung liked us,” Mingi said, trying to lighten up the situation.

“And he does, he was just trying to be a good friend to me.”

“Did something else happen?” Yunho said directly. He needed to know.

You shook your head, “No, it was barely even a kiss.”

“If I hadn’t been there to stop it, would it have turned into anything else?”

“Yunho.” Mingi tried to stop him.

“It’s not fair of you to ask me that.”

“So, it would have.”

“Yunho.” Mingi tried again.

“I don’t know, okay? I have no clue what would have happened.” Your voice escalated.

“Did you think about it?” He kept going.

“What?”

“Did you ever think about doing it? Tonight, or any other night?”

“Okay, that’s enough. You have no fucking right to reproach me for anything, we are not together.” You got up, needing to get away from him.

“I have spent every single night crying myself to sleep because you are not here, Y/n. It hasn't even crossed my mind to move on from you.” He stood up.

“Don’t act like I’m the one who fucked up like I cheated or something.” You grabbed your bag and pulled down your skirt, “This was a mistake, I never should have come here.”

That’s when Mingi saw red sirens in his head, “No, no Y/n, please. Yunho, calm down. Please, let’s calm down.” The poor thing was a mess.

“I’m not going to stay here to hear him accusing me of things that never happened.”

“Yunho’s sorry, tell her you didn’t mean it.”

Yunho’s shoulder slumped, defeated, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It’s… When I saw you two, I thought I had lost you. I saw all my fears from back in college coming true.”

“What fears?”

He looked at Mingi, who only nodded back. “Back when we had just started dating, we were a bit worried you felt like this relationship was… too much. You would want something more conventional. A relationship where people wouldn’t turn their heads to know why three people are holding hands and kissing. Or one where you didn’t have to answer, how does it work? Over and over again.” His voice cracked at the end.

Mingi took over, “You never told us about Chan, we found out because Jisung talked about it once when he was drunk. We worried there was something else there, some unresolved feelings, I don’t know. And that someday you would go back to him. Throughout the years that fear dissolved, but when we knew you were staying with him. Well, we didn’t know what to think.”

“Whatever I had with Chan ended the day I met you, I’ve only wanted you since that night. Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“As you’ve seen, we are not the best at communication.” Yunho let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry, for all the things I said. It wasn’t my place to ask.”

You got closer to him, “I’m sorry for getting so defensive.” You took his face in your hands, caressing his lip with your thumb, “I love you, Yunho.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love you.” You said taking Mingi’s hand in yours, “but I want you both to understand things are not completely okay because I’m here. I need to know what I’m getting myself into, I can’t go back to feeling like that. I need to be sure it won’t happen again, I get you both being busy, but neglecting me is a whole other story. We’ll go step by step, okay?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mingi, we talked about going slow.”

“I know, I know. I can’t believe you are back here.” He leaned closer, “so, can I?”

And you may be aching,

“Yes, please.” You whispered against his lips.

But you were also weak.

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi @daemon-bunny @toomuchtellyneck @queen-thiccness @queen-beanzzz @faesmingi @imcoenffl @fandom-freak-geek @sunnyhokyu @icouldntcareless22 @idfkeddieishot @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mellikestoread @harriy3nko @yvnhoos @shnstarlight

[fuctacles]

Happy DM Day or something

Happy GM Day to our favorite Dungeon Master and anyone who ever had the honor of leading a party into their demise

@steddiemicrofic "pin" | T | 388 | getting together, transfem Stevie | continuation to of swords and holes | now w part 3!

Once he accepts the earrings, it’s like the floodgates have opened. 

He hadn't even noticed them at first, they were small enough things to look over. Bringing him coffee to work, his favorite snacks for the movie night, a shirt she “found in the back of a closet”.

It didn't hit him until the beginning of March.

“Munson! Catch!”

He doesn’t, of course, but the small object lands harmlessly in his lap.

“What’s that?”

“A gift,” Stevie answers with a shrug. “Happy DM day or something.”

“A what day?” he asks confused, and turns the little thing, a pin, over to take a look. 

Beware the smiling DM.

“Oh my gods.”

“Do you like it?”

“Like it?” He looks up at the girl with enough audacity to ask stupid questions. His favorite, beloved bimbo. “Sweetie, darling, I love it,” he says reverently, pressing the badge into his heart. He stands up from the couch and reaches for Stevie’s hand.

“Pin it for me?”

It’s a small gesture, and completely unnecessary, but when she attaches the badge to his battle vest, becoming a part of it, it feels like a religious experience.

“What’s the occasion again?” he asks when her hands are on his chest and her lips are slightly pursed in concentration. 

“Dungeon Master Day.”

The pin is secured but she’s not stepping away.

“You gave me a gift for a nerdy holiday,” he clarifies.

“Yes?”

“A holiday I didn’t even know about?”

She looks away while her cheeks turn pink.

“Well, I had to google it, so…”

“Girlie.” He puts his hands on her cheeks and squishes them gently. “Did you google nerdy holidays, just for an excuse to give me something?”

“Well, Dustin told me about Star Wars Day, so I figured–”

“Can I kiss you?”

She closes her mouth with a click and frowns.

“Like a friend?”

“No.”

“Then yes.”

He presses in and pulls her close into a lingering kiss. 

“Sweetest, prettiest, loveliest thing,” he murmurs while kissing every inch of her face. Stevie giggles and squirms in his hold with delight in her eyes.

“I also have a Tupperware of D20 cookies.”

Eddie dives back into her mouth and kisses her until there’s no air left between them.

“Fucking,” he gasps for air, pulling away only to wrap her impossibly close. “Marry me.”

[drawlody]

My list of Adam ships♡ n my opinion bout them (also fics rec :D) (old)

Adam x Luicfer (Adamsapple/Duitarduck) 10/10

Need i say more:)))??!?! started out as a "haha funny slip-up ship" to "hey they got really good angst potential". The friends/lovers to enemies to lovers is STRONG with this one n i am eating up everything i could found on ao3. Smth bout this macho-ass man finally getting to stay back n not take charge for once feel nice, also princess Adam supermacy wooooo. Whoever came up with the ship name i applaud u cause that's like a 3 layers name(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

It's not an Adamsapple fic without Adam having at least 1 mental breakdown n Lucifer have his guilt eating him alive:)))

Very fucked up torture but i swear it worth the pain:D The dove is so dead it start to rot so plz read the tags properly (plz check out the AngeliaDark other works too they got good shit)

This one have a splits so check out both the fics (beware the author have a skrewed sense of what is considered wholesome:))))

I didnt think a smut scene could be this sad

Adam x Lute (Guitarspear/Guardrock) 10/10

Litteraly my first Hazbin ship, assholes in love is an underrated dynamic we desperately need more off:))) That with a dash of evil dude x loyal subordinate (which i havent seen since the Deathglare days) n opposite attract (look they have one main thing in common is that their extreme bloodthirst, other than that she's stricter than ur mom n he's lazier than the Sloth ring itself but that the beauty of it no? He convince her to chill tf out n not to burst a blood vessel, she keep him on track n make sure Sera dont come on their asses)

They're just being silly enabling each other terrible behaviour n i love that for them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Litteral besties i tell ya

Heavy non-con shit involving Val but Lute will revenge our boi i promised u that

Cool idea n they r just made for each other damn

First hazbin fic i read which is a really cool smut:D

Adam x Micheal (we need a ship name people ) (update: it's Songbird/Guitarhero) 10/10

I like how we dont even got a proper comfirmation of Micheal design/personality yet the ship is here already ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( im using the Nakariiale's design as a base here love their design)

Hit me with that rebound love x "u look like my ex so im using u as a replacement but ill fall for the real u eventually" x co-workers in heaven. I'm thinking smth along the line of "after Lucifer fucked off with Lilith, Micheal became Adam guardian angel n they just hang out" ya feel me here? (✿◕‿◕✿)

Shout out to Bloog_b for dragging me into this ship:DDD also im on the Adam x the archangels ship as a "gotcha" to Lucifer of sort. Like bitch u stole my wives imma steal your brotherS

Look it's Adamsapple endgame but trust me u will be feed well on this ( u know how good u gotta be for people to ditch the main ship?)

I'm giving yall 4 fics here cause i can only found 4 rn(._. )

this one is uhh non-con so beware

Micheal is indeed Adam guardian angel in this one:D

Adam x Eve (Flowertunes) 8/10

I dont care what yall said they love each other throughout Eden n Earth , might have a falling out in heaven but that doesnt change the fact that they were once IN LOVE. Honestly why cant we just have a couple that have the same bright-eyed innocence like one another.I refuse to believe Eve like willingly cheat on Adam with malicious intent n all, simply she was indeed ''tricked'' or just not fully understand the sistuation, n Adam love her way too much to think that she would do that to him like Lilith. Hell the dude was heartbroken after L left , starting the abandonment issues, so he would have cling to Eve, doing everything so that he aint alone again, even if that mean leaving Eden

Honestly it pisses me off that the Adam/Eve tag on ao3 most of the time is just 1 dialouge between them back when Eve bit the apple n thats it no elaboration on the couple whatsoever >:(((

Lots of switcharoos

sinner eve woooo

look its hard trynna find a fic focusing on them ok?

Adam x St. Peter (Guitargreeter (bet ya didnt see that coming:))) 7/10

Base on this fanfic alone Joe my dude u r on the path of becoming THE Adam crack-ship writer n i am here for this:)))) just so u wait this dude gonna whip out a AdamxNifty , AdamxHusk fic later on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

From within the fic itself the ship its 2 bros in love with homophobia standing in the way >:( also when did we have a name?!?!?!?

I just like Adam x anyone in heaven alright:D like bro famous n he got that ancient rizz, u telling mr he cant bag a hottie or 2-100+ hmm?

Adam x Alastor (Angelicradio) 8/10

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ABOUT THEM THAT I SHIP I JUST DO φ(゜▽゜*)♪ i blame YOU honestly rn this ship is either Adam found Al after the fight n they make a deal or they're in heaven n they chillin this ship is confusing:D

They're angels on heaven

Adam gone back into eden n do shit differently

This is both Adam/Eve n Adam/Alastor kinda

Adam x Alastor x Lucifer (Angelicradioapple/ Charlie's dads (only me call them that lol)) 9/10

''Hey Charlie u know how u r sad that your mother left? Wellllllll i got you 2 new dads suprise:DDDD''

Look 3 miserable men who hate each other + hell's greatest dad + my love for Dadam = Messy ass old men yaoi :DDDD n it work perfectly with Alastor Asexuality too!!! Like Adam n Lucifer could fuck each other brains out before Al joining in for the cuddles lol

Chaos ensue

Not exactly a love triangle but a love corner but hey we barely got food here :D

I cant believe how hot this shit is lol

Adam x Eve x Lilith x Lucifer (Eden poly/ applecore?) 8/10

They could have been all married to each other(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But as much as i go "OooOooo Poly yay'' i just cant vibe with EvexLucifer, like the cheating vibes is wayyyyyyyyy too much i just cant man . I mean with the interpetation that Lucifer came to Eden to hang out with the humans they all know eachother, they're a throuple yes but BUT when Eve came into the picture it was only with Adam n him only so the other 2 is ehhhh. Im fine with EvexLilith cause im seeing it happening later, not hidden from Adam while LuciferxEve got that deception going on .So uhhh in this ship they're more like bestie than lovers to me¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also AdamxLilith is an underrated pairing like everytime i saw this applecore thing going on these 2 r at most tolerate each other like cmonnnnn we already twist this to hell n back, why cant we make it so their arguement was a petty non-malicious one n they still cares for each other hmm???

They're one happy family

IDK what to tell u bittersweet reunion n loving family is the only typa fic u get with this ship

Not that im complaining i need this wholesomeness

Adam x Mammon (Adammon/Madam/Greedyguitar/ 1st chirstmas.... hasnt had an offical name yet) 10/10

They r litteraly same person different font idk what to tell u. More insults thrown around than Guitarspear but they're pretty similar. Adam is just " sinners suck ass but this dude is the worst in the best way". Also they're both big bois (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ , they love towering over others

I'm sorry but there r barely BARELY

any fics of them :(

The art side is more plentiful tho :D

Adam x Angel Dust (Holydust/guitardust) 5/10

THEY ARE BESTIES YOUR HONOUR n that the exact reason why i cant see them be together as a couple 100%, like the shit-talking bff vibes r wayyyy too strong XD Angel finally got someone who have the same vulgar humour as him n if Adam got married in hell Angel would 100% be his best bitch of honour (≧∀≦)ゞq(≧▽≦q)

They're best friends who have casual no-string attached sex that is ACTUALLY no-string attached:)))

I came to ship them due to those "What if they're co-workers under Val' scenarios ive been seeing on Tumblr

I got like 1 fic on ao3 i mean if u r looking for just platonic friendship between them then rest asure most Adam's redemption fics have that

I got 1 fic on tumblr

Adam x Charlie (Charadam/Guitarprincess) 5/10

U know this ship give me a pretty bad first impression since a good chunk of the fics r either heavy non-con shit or lean wayyyyy to much into the daddy kink, ya know how Charlie got suppose daddy issues n all that jazz?:))) yeah that... that

But after seeing the art side of this ship im chillin with them now, since the art r pretty wholesome, usually having them decked out in punk-rock clothings hanging out. It's a big "Fuck you" to Lucifer n i live for these mf argueing ╰(*°▽°*)╯

So uhhh stay away from the fics if ya want an actual functional couple instead of wtv messed up shit we got there:))) But here's a fic anyway, the only one where it feel bearable n actual trynna go into said messed up relationship i already warn you

We got cracks like Guitarmaid (AdamxNifty), Valadam (AdamxVal) which i dont have enough materials to decied, Classicalrock (AdamxSera) sound interesting but also havent found anything , Guitarhalo (AdamxEmily) is an unexpected find, find i deem them to be more familial than romantic so we'll see if there's a fic good enough to convince me

Edit:i forgot to add Blitzo like Mammon already there why did i forgot

Adam x Blitzo (i dont think anyone even ship this but me:)) 7/10

I cant find a single fic where they has anything more than a 1 nightstand n 1 interaction where they hit it off , i live off imagination alone (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) but like fr fr they would match so well, like their bloodlust n general jerkiness would make them the 3rd asshole x asshole ship on this list :DDDD

Tho as much as i wanna see them go further i feel like an on-n-off relationship/friends with benefits fit em more ya know ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰) If ya have any fic but the 2 here that have them interact lemme know cause a bitch need food :)

This is a lot of tag(._. )

[dazaih]

wingman - luke skywalker x reader

you can find previous chapters here

chapter nine -> the sleepover

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: nightmares, light angst, sexual humor

a/n: HERE’S CHAPTER 9!!!!! so sorry for the delay and tysm for being patient with me as i recover from my injury <3

You woke with a start, a firm weight pressing into your chest stirring momentary panic within you. You let out a sigh of relief when you realized that the culprit was Luke, cuddled up next to you. Blinking a few times, you glanced at your phone to check the time. It was 1:30 in the morning, which meant that you and Luke had been asleep for over an hour. You also noticed that Chewie had texted you thirty minutes ago.

Chewie: high asf leia brought some strong shit. going 2 bed

Chewie: they’re in the living room i don’t think they’ll start fucking but beware if u go in there

Chewie: luke was talking about u the whole way home btw

You blushed and tossed your phone to the end of your bed, almost hitting Luke’s foot in the process. You gently moved him off of you, and he only stirred slightly, still mostly asleep. He must have been tired, you noted, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as you got out of bed.

You made your way into the kitchen then, and you saw Han and Leia sitting on the couch. They were eating some of the pizza from earlier, and you realized then that Luke hadn’t had any of it even though he was so hungry. No wonder he was tired; he was probably eating sleep for dinner. You heard a scream emit from the television, and you could only guess that they were watching some sort of horror movie. You tried not to react outwardly when you saw how close they were sitting, legs pressed together while Han very casually had his arm resting on the back of the couch, inches away from being wrapped around her.

You took a slice of pizza and popped it into the microwave, gaining their attention in the process.

“Hey,” Han greeted you, voice a little raspy from both the hour of the night and the copious amounts of weed he’d smoked, “You feelin’ better?”

You were confused for a moment, but recalled that Luke had lied and told them that your head was hurting earlier as an explanation for your absence.

“Yeah, just tired,” you said, grabbing a soda from the fridge, “Chewie said you guys smoked him out.”

“Chewie was already on an edible by the time we started smoking,” he snorted, rolling his eyes, “You should know better than to think that anyone could out-smoke him.”

You laughed tiredly, nodding.

“That makes more sense,” you agreed, smiling, “What’re you guys watching?”

“The Conjuring,” Leia replied before Han could stop her, and you heard him sigh.

“That movie sucks,” you said, “The second one is way better—“

“I’m too high to hear one of your movie spiels,” he warned, glaring at you. You laughed and took a bite of your pizza, shrugging.

“Where’s Luke?” Leia asked.

“He’s asleep,” you murmured, hoping not to get any further questions about where he was sleeping and what you all had been up to.

“He is?”

She sounded surprised, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, and you gave her a curious look.

“Should I wake him up?”

“No!” she said quickly before regaining her composure, “Sorry, no. You can let him sleep. Assuming that’s okay with you.”

“I don’t mind. He doesn’t snore.”

She relaxed a little, and you wanted to press her further but decided against it.

“Are you guys staying the night?” Han asked suddenly.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she replied, seemingly torn between her options, “But Luke—never mind, sorry. We can have our driver pick us up whenever you guys want us out of your hair.”

“You can stay,” Han assured her, being uncharacteristically kind, “You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s late.”

She seemed caught off guard by the offer, but gave him a small smile in return.

“I’m not gonna take your bed, but I wouldn’t mind spending the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Your royal servants will execute me at dawn if they find out that I made their princess sleep on a shitty couch. I can’t risk my health like that. My luck’s running out as it is.”

She giggled, and the interaction was so strangely pleasant that you felt like you were intruding on something. For that reason, you promptly bid them goodnight and scurried away. You left some clean pajamas in the bathroom for Leia and returned to your room, surprised to see Luke tiredly looking up at you through lidded eyes.

“Hey,” he said quietly, voice raspy, “Do I need to leave?”

“No,” you assured him, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing his bangs out of his face, “You guys are spending the night.”

“Oh,” he replied, seemingly a little confused, “Am I allowed to sleep here? I can take the couch—“

“I just sucked your dick. I don’t mind if you sleep in my bed.”

He blushed a little, still out of it, and nodded shyly.

“I should tell you something,” he began nervously, now avoiding your gaze. You were suddenly concerned, and you tried to provide him with some comfort by continuing to stroke his hair.

“You can tell me anything,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Okay,” he sighed, looking down, “I, um, have parasomnia. Like, the nightmare kind. And it’s bad, I guess? I’m not gonna like, hurt you in my sleep or anything. But I’m not a very fun person to spend the night with.”

You stared at him for a moment, the revelation making your heart ache. Luke, who was always so energetic and positive, wasn’t afforded any solace in his sleep. It struck you as cruel, but perhaps your feelings for him were amplifying that. Being overly emotional in your reaction wouldn’t do him any favors, and so you pushed the urge to cradle him in your arms aside.

“That’s okay,” you told him, caressing his cheek, “Is there anything I can do? Anything that usually helps you?”

He didn’t reply at first, looking at you with his mouth slightly agape. You wondered if that was the wrong thing to say, but he placated you soon after your worries arose, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, though his voice was distant, “It’s not your responsibility. I just wanted you to be aware. In case it changes your willingness to share a bed with me.”

“Why would it change anything?”

“Because it’s weird? I dunno.”

“Luke,” you sighed, feeling that familiar pang in your heart that only he seemed to be able to evoke from you, “If someone tells you that you’re weird for something that’s out of your control, then they suck, and that says more about them than it does about you. I’m not gonna judge you for shit like that, alright?”

He looked at you in quiet disbelief, finally nodding and letting out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting your eyes, “And the cuddling is still okay?”

“Of course,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

He nodded and pulled the covers up, inviting you to join him. When you did, he immediately pulled you into his chest again, securing his arms tightly around you.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, finally closing his eyes.

You were asleep again within minutes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The nightmares did, in fact, come. A strangled yelp had woken you up, and you sat up with a start, your eyes adjusting to see Luke with his hand covering his mouth, his chest rising in time with his rapid breathing. His eyes flicked over to you, and only then did you notice that he was crying. The realization filled you with despair, and you instantly committed yourself to bringing him back to a state of calm.

“Hey,” you began softly, “Are you—“

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, covering his mouth again in an effort to suppress the sob that threatened to escape his lips, “Can I use your restroom?”

“Of course,” you said, and he stood quickly. You tried to follow him, but he shook his head.

“I just need a second. I’m sorry.”

With that, he left the room.

You sat with baited breath, awaiting his return and longing to comfort him in some way. Hundreds of questions flooded your head, but you suppressed them in an effort to remain collected when he came back. One was at the forefront of your mind, though: What had he been dreaming about?

After about fifteen minutes, you saw the doorknob twist, and he finally reentered the room. You had turned on your bedside lamp since his departure, and you could now fully see his disheveled state. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks stained with tears. He looked pitiful, sad, and you felt so bad for him that it was overwhelming.

“Sorry,” he said, voice strained. He must’ve been crying in your bathroom.

“Don’t be sorry,” you told him, patting the mattress, “I’ll hold you if you want, okay?”

He stared at you for a second, as if he didn’t quite understand your offer. He blinked, and then slowly walked over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it and staring down at his hands. His body was tilted towards you, but he wasn’t lying down, so you sat up and touched his shoulder. He jumped a little, but didn’t brush you off.

“I can leave,” he said then, not meeting your eyes, “My driver will be able to get me, so it’s not any trouble. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you said, gently rubbing his back. He finally looked at you then, his expression difficult to decipher.

“It might happen again.”

“That’s fine,” you replied, “I’m sorry that this is happening to you, but I’d still really like you to stay. If you’re comfortable with that, that is.”

He sighed, sounding defeated, and relaxed into your touch. He let you guide him back underneath the covers, the two of you lying down again. His eyes were closed now, a single tear rolling down his cheek, and you gently wiped it with your thumb.

“Do you wanna talk about it at all?” you asked softly.

“It’s not your responsibility,” he said, voice cracking a bit in a way that made your heart ache.

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” you replied, tucking his hair behind his ear, “I care about you. When you’re upset, I want to be there for you.”

“It’s not your responsibility,” he repeated, sniffling. Seeing Luke quiet and sad felt wrong, and you wished you could make him feel better.

“Stop saying that,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “You’re not feeling well. It’s okay to accept help from other people.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it,” he replied, his voice shaky, “I shouldn’t have made you deal with it. I’m sorry.”

“Can I hold you?” you asked. He opened his eyes and stared at you, seemingly confused.

“What?”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But I know that you like physical affection, and I like that too, so if it would help, then I’d really love to hold you.”

He blinked, studying you intently, as if he were looking for something hidden beneath your features.

“I ruined your night.”

“What? You didn’t ruin my night. What are you talking about?”

“I woke you up,” he argued, “Because I was crying. And now I’m being weird, and you should be annoyed with me for acting stupid, and—“

“Stop,” you interjected, cupping his cheek, “It’s not your fault that you had a nightmare, Luke. You’re not being very fair to yourself.”

He looked at you with something akin to desperation, like he was begging you to agree that he had done something wrong. You wouldn’t budge, of course, so you just made a show of outstretching your arms, giving him a small smile as you did. He finally relented, allowing you to pull him into a tight embrace. He instinctively buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you gently petted his hair.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you’d taken him into your arms. Every now and then, you could feel him quietly cry, his tears dampening the collar of your shirt.

After a while, his breathing had evened out, and the shaking of his shoulders had subsided. You briefly wondered if he was asleep, but your theory was disproved when he finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve had the foresight to stop that from happening. That was irresponsible of me.”

“Stop,” you ordered softly, tucking a blond curl behind his ear, “Being there for you isn’t a chore. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He sat up and stared at you, his eyes tired, and he gave you a defeated smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “And nothing you can say will make me feel any less guilty about having a meltdown in your room after you’ve been nothing but perfect to me.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He laughed, and you hadn’t realized how much you treasured that sound until now.

“You’re funny,” he told you, and he suddenly pulled you into a hug, “And sweet. And doing way too much for someone you’re just pretending to date.”

You laughed to mask the sting that you felt at the fact that none of this was real, and you prayed that he didn’t feel your heart shatter as he held you.

“You’d do the same for me,” you decided to say.

“That’s different,” he replied, readjusting so that you were both lying down again.

“How is that different?” you pressed, looking into his eyes. He smiled at you in a way that almost looked sad, but you chalked it up to him being exhausted from his nightmare.

“Just is,” he said, kissing your cheek before cuddling up to you again, resting a hand on the back of your head as he pulled you closer, “I’ve kept you up for too long. You should sleep.”

“You should sleep,” you argued, but you let him cradle you regardless.

“I’m not gonna risk waking you up again, but I’ll rest,” he bargained.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you mumbled into his neck, “It doesn’t bother me. I promise. What does bother me is you trying to punish yourself for it by staying awake.”

“I don’t do that,” he protested, but the smallness of his voice told you that he was lying. You recalled when you stayed the night at his apartment and he looked as if he hadn’t slept the entire time, and sudden realization washed over you.

“You didn’t sleep when I spent the night at your place. I know you didn’t.”

You felt him sigh, and in a quiet, defeated tone, he whispered, “I didn’t want you to hear.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you.”

“I know. It’s not about that,” he said, holding you a little tighter, “But thanks for saying that. I really appreciate you.”

You blushed and hid your face further in his neck.

“Flattery,” you mumbled simply, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you.

“I mean it. You’ve been a better friend to me in just this semester than people I’ve known for years. Thank you.”

Friend. The word caused bile to rise in your throat, but you suppressed your displeasure, instead letting sleep take you.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, hand in your hair. You thought you heard him say something else, but you weren’t quite sure, as you were quickly fading into unconsciousness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You woke up to Luke still by your side, lazily playing with your hair as he scrolled on his phone, the morning sunlight illuminating his features. His face was still a little puffy from crying, but he seemed much more like himself, and you felt happy to see him so relaxed.

“Morning,” he said softly once he noticed that you were staring, “It’s eight.”

“Morning. Did you sleep?”

“Yes, actually,” he replied, smiling sweetly at you, “I’m sorry again. About last night.”

“Don’t be sorry. I meant everything I said.”

He nodded, blushing a little, streaks of light seeping through the blinds and creating a soft halo around his hair. He looked angelic.

“I got up for some water at like five, and the couch was empty, so.”

You sat up, unable to contain your excitement, and grinned widely at him.

“Oh my god,” you cheered quietly, rubbing your eyes, “Han was saying he’d take the couch, but Leia was saying that she didn’t want to uproot him from his own bed, and I bet they totally just agreed to share the bed, and—This is perfect. We’re such great wingmen.”

“The best in the game,” he agreed, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, not hungover. A little sleepy, but not more than usual, I guess. You?”

“I feel like I got the best head of my life last night,” he teased, and you gently elbowed him in the side, “Seriously, though. I’m doing okay. Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry again about all of that.”

You heard his stomach growl, as if on cue, and you giggled at him.

“You didn’t eat any pizza,” you recalled, frowning.

“It’s fine. I’ll eat when I get home.”

“Or we can go get something now,” you offered, suddenly nervous that he’d reject you.

“I don’t have any clean clothes, and I haven’t brushed my teeth. I probably look like shit.”

“I have a shirt that’ll fit you, at least. And we probably have a spare toothbrush somewhere from Han’s whore days.”

“Han was a whore?” he asked, sounding amused.

“I probably shouldn’t call him that, but yeah. He used to bring people home a lot.“

“To the extent that he kept spare toothbrushes around?”

“Just the cheap kind,” you added, as if that contributed to your defense of him.

“I, of all people, am in no place to judge. I’m just teasing,” he assured you, and you relaxed a little, “I don’t care who Han fucks, as long as he’s not doing it while trying to be exclusive with my sister.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t think so. So, if you have a toothbrush for me and you’re alright with me wearing one of your shirts, I’ll take you up on that breakfast journey.”

You pretended not to be as excited as you actually were, happy to spend time alone with Luke for even longer. You weren’t sure how you’d gotten so lucky. You quickly got dressed, threw Luke one of your oversized sweatshirts, and scurried away to find an unopened toothbrush. Victorious, you returned to your room to see him wearing your shirt, the image momentarily stopping you in your tracks.

“Success?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You tossed him the toothbrush and he smiled, winking at you before exiting the room and disappearing into your bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, hair much less tousled and looking pretty good to have not had access to any of his own clothes or hygiene products.

“You did quite a number on me,” he said, and you had no idea what he meant until you actually took a good look at him.

His neck was covered in hickeys.

“I’m so sorry,” you squeaked, cheeks ablaze as you covered your mouth in both embarrassment and shock, “Holy shit. I didn’t think—“

“Don’t be sorry. I asked you to.”

“You begged me to,” you corrected, though you still felt a little scandalous.

“I’m not ashamed,” he replied with a shrug, grinning at you, “You’ll have to let me return the favor soon.”

You couldn’t stop blushing this morning. You nodded, trying not to let the implication that he wanted to continue being intimate with you make you collapse completely.

With that, the two of you headed out, leaving Han and Chewie with a text message to inform them of your whereabouts. Luke insisted that he knew of a good bakery nearby, and you followed him into the city. At some point, he’d taken your hand in his own, lacing your fingers together as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Up until you reached the more densely populated area of downtown, you had completely forgotten that Luke was Luke Skywalker. When you felt several pairs of eyes on you, though, you recalled that the guy you’d been playing pretend with was actually the son of a highly prolific politician and Hollywood’s new favorite actor. Nobody stopped you on account of Luke himself not being much of a celebrity, but people certainly recognized him. He squeezed your hand a little tighter when he realized that you’d noticed the staring, his attentiveness making you swoon. He was too sweet.

When you arrived at the bakery, he let go of you only to hold the door, placing a hand on the small of your back as soon as you got inside.

“If you like cinnamon rolls, this is the place to get them. They also have pretty good scones, but the cinnamon rolls are way more filling. They’re like, huge.”

You nodded, listening to him ramble on about the menu.

“I trust your judgment when it comes to food,” you told him, and he beamed at you.

That, apparently, had translated to him as permission to order for you and pay for your food, and he added on a few things for Han, Leia, and Chewie as well. Luke led you to a table by the window, a cute vase of flowers in the center. This felt like a date.

“Is it okay if you and I eat here? We don’t have to stay for long. Just thought it’d be nice,” he asked, sounding nervous.

You nodded, and your food was served to you pretty soon after, the server handing the to-go orders to you in a bag. Luke placed the bag by his feet and took a bite of his cinnamon roll, moaning as he always did.

“You just do that to piss me off now,” you remarked, tasting your own food. He may have been justified this time, because the cinnamon roll was delightful in ways that exceeded your expectations.

“Mostly, yeah,” he admitted, smiling at you.

You ate your breakfast together and chatted, mostly about general small talk topics that you had just never gotten around to learning about each other.

“I don’t even know your major,” you realized, eyes widening.

“I don’t like talking about myself that much when I first meet people. It’s not your fault,” he said sheepishly, blushing.

“Why is that? If I could be as interesting as you are, I’d probably talk about myself all the time.”

He laughed and shook his head.

“I think people usually have a lot of ulterior motives when they try to get to know me, I guess. It’s just a habit now.”

You frowned and pointed your fork at him as you chewed, hoping he’d get your meaning.

“My major?” he asked, and smiled when you nodded, “Guess.”

“Business.”

“Seriously?”

“I dunno. Figured you might do something easy since you’re an athlete and all.”

“Do you think I’d survive in the business world?”

“No,” you decided, shaking your head, “You’re too nice. Okay, um, philosophy.”

He nodded excitedly at that.

“You know me so well,” he teased.

“I took an intro to philosophy class a few semesters ago,” you mused, trying to recall the specifics of the course.

“I know,” he told you, “I took it at the same time as you did.”

You stared at him for a second, his admission not quite computing, because you had never noticed him in that class. You supposed, however, that it was your first year at this school, and you didn’t really know what Luke looked like at that point or why he was such a big deal. It was a rather large lecture as well, definitely over a hundred people. Still, you struggled to wrap your head around the idea that you wouldn’t have noticed him at all, and even more so that he noticed you. He had to have been lying.

“How would you know that?” you asked skeptically, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I remember you. You always sat in the second row, and you participated even though it was a big class. Teacher’s pet,” he quipped, grinning at you.

All of that was true, but you still struggled to believe him even for a second. Why would he have noticed you?

“I’m good with faces,” he added, as if reading your mind, “Especially pretty ones.”

“I don’t believe you. Why did you take intro to philosophy your second year if you planned on majoring in it?”

“I didn’t. I added it as a second major.”

“You’re a double major?”

“Yep. Now guess the other one.”

“Give me a hint.”

“Science.”

“Really?” you asked, unable to mask your surprise, “I was about to guess theater.”

“Because of my dad?”

“Because you’re dramatic.”

“I’m messing with you. I did theater in high school, actually, but then my dad got way more famous than he already was and I got scared of just being given parts that I didn’t deserve.”

“How noble of you. Okay, environmental science?”

“Not a bad guess, but no.”

“Can you just tell me?” you pleaded, growing frustrated with this game. He giggled and finally relented.

“Astronomy,” he said, smiling, “I’m double majoring in philosophy and astronomy.”

It shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. The image of Luke curiously staring through a telescope and noting the night sky brought you a strange amount of warmth. Everything you learned about him just made you like him even more, and you were overcome by the urge to know him much more deeply than you did.

“That’s really cool,” you confessed, trying not to make your admiration for him obvious, “So I guess you read a lot?”

He nodded, and for the next thirty minutes you listened to him ramble about different books and philosophies that he’d read about. Finally getting him to talk about himself was such a treat that you never wanted breakfast to end, but as time ticked on, you realized that you’d have to get back to the house at a reasonable hour to give the others their breakfast. Luke had a similar realization, and the two of you began the trek home soon after.

“That was nice,” you told him, “You should tell me about the stuff you like more often. You’re really good at explaining stuff.”

He blushed and nodded, promising that he’d try to do better with that in the future. He then asked you more about what you were studying and what your ambitions were, and listened to you talk in detail about your major. He asked a lot of questions too, and having someone seem so genuinely interested in things you cared about made you feel light.

You finally made it to your house, but upon unlocking the door realized that everyone was still asleep.

“Damn,” he said, hands on his hips, “Guess we have to entertain ourselves for a little longer.”

You nodded as he put the takeout on the counter, trying to think of what else you could do in the meantime.

“You could show me a movie you like,” he suggested, “Maybe something that’s not too scary, though.”

You giggled at him and put on Fantastic Mr. Fox since it was both wholesome and on the shorter side. You cuddled on the couch together and made it through about an hour of the film when you heard Han’s bedroom door swing open, Leia emerging in a shirt that belonged to him and nearly swallowed her whole. He appeared a few seconds later, not bothering to tell you good morning as he made a beeline for the cinnamon rolls.

“What’re you guys watching?” Leia asked, sitting on the arm of the couch, licking her thumb, and wiping something from Luke’s face.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed, trying to push her away from him, “Don’t touch me with your spit. That’s repulsive.”

“You had icing on your cheek,” she said simply, looking amused.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Luke pouted in distress, turning to you.

“I didn’t notice,” you replied honestly.

“Did you guys pick these up this morning?” Han asked with his mouth full.

“Yeah, cinnamon rolls from the bakery downtown. They’re good.”

“Thanks, kid,” he said, before adding, “Did you get attacked on the way there?”

You didn’t understand what he meant at first, but when Leia covered her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter, you knew it had to be about the two of you.

“Are you hurt?” you asked him naively.

Leia was snickering now. Luke glared at her before turning to give you a sweet smile, shaking his head.

“I’m not hurt. They’re trying to make fun of me.”

“I’m genuinely concerned for your health. Someone was trying to eat you alive,” Han remarked, taking another bite of his food.

Oh. Oh. Your face immediately flushed, and you suddenly felt trapped. Leia pulled down the collar of Luke’s borrowed sweatshirt to look at more deep bruises resting right above his collarbone, and you really wanted this conversation to be over soon.

“I didn’t notice these on the way here,” she noted, tugging his shirt a little more and wincing when she found additional hickeys.

“You were too busy talking to him,” Luke replied, reminding his sister that she was in no position to show skepticism about his romantic life, “And they’re a lot darker this morning than they were then.”

“No kidding,” she murmured, still examining his neck.

“Can you quit?” he snapped.

“Sorry, sorry. I just haven’t seen you with hickeys in forever. Thought your coach didn’t like it when you showed up with those.”

That was new information. Given his insistence last night, you had just assumed that he frequently indulged in this. Why had he begged you to leave marks if he was going to get shit for it later?

“What’s he gonna do? Not put me in the game?”

“He might threaten that, yes.”

“He won’t. They’d be fucked without me.”

“You’re so humble,” she snorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not trying to be a dick, but we’ll be going to the playoffs soon. He’s not gonna put in B-string for that, and he’s definitely not gonna take out his captain.“

“Who would dare punish a Skywalker?” Han murmured as he continued to demolish his cinnamon roll, “Daddy would have a pretty strong word with them if it came to that, huh?”

An emotion you couldn’t identify passed over Luke’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Han,” you warned, rubbing your temples, “Leave him alone.”

Luke smiled smugly at that, looking satisfied, and Han just scoffed and went back to eating. Leia looked at you curiously for a second, narrowing her eyes at the two of you, but ultimately said nothing. Huh.

“Well, we should head out. I’ve got a student council meeting at noon,” she said, getting up to grab a cinnamon roll for the road.

Luke sighed and squeezed your knee under the blanket you were sharing, a quiet goodbye only for you. He stood then, following his sister to the door, and gave you a cute wave paired with a smile.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Leia said, punching Han in the arm lightly as she grabbed a napkin for her food, “See you in class.”

He only nodded, too standoffish to say anything else, and then thanked Luke again for breakfast.

“Tell Chewie we said bye!” Luke added happily, and with that, they were gone.

You and Han looked at each other for a moment, as if in a stalemate. Finally, he spoke.

“Nothing happened,” he asserted, though the faintest blush decorating his cheeks made you skeptical, “We just shared a bed. That’s it.”

“Okay.”

“You guys did too,” he continued, sounding defensive, “So don’t give me any shit, okay?”

“Okay,” you said again, but he seemed to know that you didn’t fully believe him.

“Nothing is going on between us. We barely even get along as friends.”

“Sure, I believe you.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You have a stupid look on your face. I can tell.”

You rolled your eyes and stood from the couch, not in the mood to hear him vehemently deny his building feelings for Leia.

“I’m going back to sleep. You can argue with Chewie when he gets up.”

He huffed, and then, looking at the counter, asked a question that caught you off guard.

“Hey,” he began awkwardly, not meeting your eyes, “Have you noticed anything off about him?”

“About Luke? Why?” you asked, surprised. Something about his inquiry almost seemed melancholy, and you began to wonder if Leia had mentioned something to him that you didn’t know about.

“I dunno. I just—I’m probably just looking too far into it. Never mind.”

“No,” you protested, taking a seat at the island, “Tell me.”

He sighed and pinched off a piece of his napkin, rolling the paper into a little ball and flicking it across the counter.

“Leia alluded to something when we first met him. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, but I’ve just kept thinking about it since then, and now I notice every time she seems worried about him.”

You weren’t in the mood to tease him about how in tune he was with Leia’s emotions.

“You’re worried about him,” you realized, something about Han caring enough about Luke to notice when he wasn’t feeling well making your heart swell.

“I am not,” he argued, glaring at you.

“I know what you mean, though,” you said, thinking about his words, “I think he might have some shit going on, yeah, but he doesn’t like talking about himself that much.”

“Leia really hates his friends,” he added quietly.

“That’s understandable. I’ve never seen them do anything weird to him, but I could definitely imagine that they’re not the best people to go to if you need to talk to someone.”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out or nothin’ kid. I guess maybe I was a little worried about him. Got up to piss last night and thought I heard someone cryin’ or something.”

“Oh,” you murmured, recalling Luke’s nightmare, “Yeah, but he’s alright.”

“You two didn’t get into a fight or anything, right?” he asked, trying and failing to keep his tone casual.

“No, Han,” you assured him, trying not to let your amusement at his brotherly concern shine through, “But thank you. I appreciate you checking in on us.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, gaze darting back to the countertop. You chuckled and stood, slapping his shoulder.

With that, you trekked back to your room, closing your door and collapsing onto your bed. You checked your phone then, surprised to see that Luke had already texted you.

Luke: when can i see u again?

You grinned, blushing and staring at the screen.

Things were falling into place.