#but it’s worse on my days off and right now i’m stuck at home for post-op recovery so naturally it’s flaring up

[cowboyjimkirk]

my jaw has been continuing to hurt, so i checked out r/TMJ and scared myself 😳

[tetsumie]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader

genre: comfort

content: kuroo hasn't seen you in days and makes his way to your apartment to see what's going on with you

cw: reader has a depressive episode and displays depressive symptoms

a/n: hello! i tried writing something for my pookie wookie kuroo tetsuro also lwk very self indulgent.. love u all and tysm for the endless support and as always likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! i could not be here without you all <333

"hi! this is y/n l/n! sorry i couldn’t answer your phone call. i’m a bit busy right now but leave a message and i’ll call you back the first chance i get than-" kuroo hangs up the phone for nth time today and sighs. 

kuroo hasn't heard from you for the past few days and to be completely honest, it’s like you've completely vanished off the planet. your designated seat next to him in both chemistry and english lectures have remained empty for the past week and he can’t seem to get ahold of you at all. 

at first, he didn’t really worry much about it. he didn’t want to pry on why you weren’t coming to school. he understood everyone needed their space. but when he intercepted your friends one day and asked them how you were doing and they too were unsure as well, he knew there was something severely wrong. 

on the other hand, you’ve been home all week. 

you haven’t been in the best place for the past week. you feel like your body is slowly succumbing to the stress and your body is practically giving out on you, working overtime. motivating yourself to study and to work is already difficult enough as is but doing basic things such as getting out of bed and even taking a shower feels impossible. 

you feel stuck in this never ending loop of time where the same things just keep happening over and over. you wake up at the prime hour of 12 pm and realize you’ve missed all your morning classes but then immediately head back to bed. you fall asleep and then wake up at 2 pm and stare at the ceiling above you with no particular thought in mind. eventually, you find yourself scrolling through social media on your phone but then ditch it after a few minutes because a wave of social anxiety crashes into you. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve also been skipping meals and you’re starting to catch a cold. man, you haven’t even gotten out of bed, let alone left your bedroom. you can’t even get yourself to do the bare minimum right now and making yourself an actual meal is a bit too out of your comfort zone. 

and what makes this entire situation worse is the fact that you’ve been pushing everyone away, from your friends to family to the one and only kuroo tetsuro.

there was no justification behind why you were avoiding them. you just couldn’t allow yourself to let them see you in such a lethargic condition. it hurt your pride and in general, you hated having people worry for you. it made you feel, in a sense, hopeless. 

you just wanted to shut yourself off from the world. 

the week goes by in a flash and friday evening rolls around. your phone lights up again for the nth time. you see it flash white but you roll over away, not having the energy to grab it. doing anything especially talking to other people feels exhausting.

a few minutes later, someone's banging on the door. it sounded like the fbi was at your door with a search warrant as if you were harboring drugs. you don't answer the door, not feeling like leaving the comfort and safe haven of your bed.

but the banging doesn’t seem to stop and you're getting irritated so you’re forced to get out of bed and tell the person at the door to come at another time.

to your surprise, when you open the door, you find your boyfriend, kuroo, staring at you with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“y/n, where have you been?” he begins the interrogation.

you mumble. “nowhere. been at home.”

he looks you up and down, taking in your disheveled state. your face is pale, the bags under your eyes seep deeply, giving away the countless sleepless nights you've had. your shoulders are slumped and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly, a subtle but constant frown. your hair is unkempt, reflecting the lack of energy to even try to care for yourself. an aura of exhaustion and hopelessness hangs around you, making it clear that you're struggling to find the strength to even function.

“then why haven’t you answered my calls?” he continues.

“i’ve just been preoccupied,” you lie and he catches on immediately.

no words are exchanged between the both of you for a few moments. you take his silence as your cue to end this awkward conversation and to send him on his way.

"i'm sure you have better things to do, just go-"

you're about to close the door on him until he says, "let me in."

you sigh again.

“can you come back later tetsu?” you don’t want to have him deal with you like this. he's seen more than enough of you in this condition.

his piercing gaze locks with your tired eyes and he feels his heart clench. the usual shimmer in your eyes gone and all he can see the numbness in your expression.

"no let me in," he states in a strict tone. "we have to talk."

with no choice, you open up the door entirely and kuroo takes a look at the state of your apartment. he would be lying if he wasn't caught by surprise. clothes are strewn across the couch and bowls of empty ramen are lying on the kitchen counter. your apartment is a mess.

putting his stuff down near the door, he begins to slowly pick up your clothes off the floor and tosses them into the laundry bin. seeing him make an attempt at cleaning your mess made you uncomfortable to the point your skin started to crawl.

"tetsuro, stop."

"no."

"please stop," you plead in desperation.

"y/n, i’m trying to help you!" he replies, his voice growing a little louder with irritation at your refusal.

“what if i don’t want your help?” you shoot back and his mouth closes shut. “i don’t want your help or your pity or condolences or whatever it is! just go home!”

although your mouth said one thing, your mind was trying to telepathically convey another.

please don’t leave me now. please stay.

you don’t say a word as you walk into your bedroom, closing the door behind you, hoping he'll leave on his own. the moment he hears the click of your bedroom door, kuroo begins to try to organize as much as he can in your living room. he takes out your old leftover foods and tidies up the kitchen. he starts working his way through the living room, silently sweeping the dust off the floor and reorganizing your items that were strewn on the floor.

as he’s silently working, he begins to hear sniffles and sobs coming from your room. dropping everything, he finds himself standing in front of your closed door, fist about to knock the door.

“love, can we talk?” he says out loud.

it's silence from the other end.

"y/n... please..." kuroo's voice cracks. "i just want to see you."

"door's open," your voice is muffled slightly through the door.

he opens the door and is greeted by you wrapped around in your comforter, looking away from the door. kuroo takes in the state of your room. the curtains are drawn out and there are tissues littering your night stand along with your computer lying in the corner with a pile of clothes in the corner waiting to be cleaned.

you were always so organized, what started this?

kuroo goes over to the other side of the bed and your face is huddled into your comforter. he crouches down and starts to stroke your hair with his hand.

"baby? talk to me, love. what's going on in that pretty head of yours huh?" he coos in hopes of getting you to open up.

refusing to look him in the eye, you mumble into your comforter loud enough for him to understand. "it's been getting bad again... it’s been bad all week and i'm just tired all the time."

he kisses the top of your head. "and that's okay. not everyday is supposed to be a great day. you're supposed to have good days and bad days."

you finally emerge from your cocoon and the sight he's greeted with break his heart into pieces. your face has a slight red flush tint with the remnants of your tear stains on your face. he sees how you're trying to maintain a steady face, trying your best not to fall apart in front of him.

no questions asked, he brings you into his chest and the tears you worked so hard to keep at bay come apart. you start sobbing into his chest. he strokes your back in a rhythmic up and down motion, adding the occasional kiss on the top of your head. he finds himself crawling into your bed with you on his lap as you continue to sob into his chest.

once your crying subsides a bit and your throat feels a bit sore from the crying, you look up at him and he gives that genuine small smile of his that you've grown to love so much.

"i love you, you know that right?" he reassures as your eyes meet.

your eyes shift from one eye to another and you look at him as if he hung the stars just for you.

"i know and i don't know why you love me. i don't deserve you. you deserve someone who's put together and on top of it and just perfect. hell, you could do so much better than me... i don't even know why you're still with me."

his heart cracks at the heartbreaking words, escaping your mouth. he feels so stupid. have you been feeling like this for all this time and haven't said a word to him? he should've done something.

"when we started dating, from that very moment, i knew i wanted all of you. i want everything. i want your bad days and your good days and your lazy days and your rotting in bed days. i want your good and bad. i want your highs and lows. y/n, i just want you." he kisses your cheek.

he continues to reassure you, "i want all of it. and i want to be there for you the entire time. i don't want you to have to hide yourself from me. i never wanted you to be perfect. i wanted you to be just you. that's who i fell in love with."

"i love you with all your 'imperfections' you know that right?" he does the air quotes around the word "imperfections."

"yeah but it's so hard for me to accept-," you start but he brings his pointer finger to your lips, telling you to stop your train of overthinking.

you both are enveloped in a comfortable silence with kuroo's reassuring words hanging in the air.

"i love you so much, you have no idea," you finally say, cuddled into his chest.

"oh yeah? i couldn't tell," he begins to tease. "tell me more actually."

you let out a chuckle, playfully slapping his arm, and that warm, sweet smile of his forms again on hisi lips.

"there's my gorgeous girl. oh how i've missed you."

"missed you too, tetsu."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[frudoo]

Literally obsessed with your Slasher 141 series, its been giving me so much brainrot

I have a few ideas;

reader feels a bit self conscious about her body and the boys make it their mission to show her how beautiful she is in their eyes (could be fluff or smut)

OR

Reader decides to be a brat over text to the boys as they were out for the day, and hides from the boys once they arrive home, resulting in them hunting and chasing her down 👀👀 ( smut and a lil fluff )

This is very self-indulgent because I've been feeling bad about my own body lately. This is for my fellow fat girls <3

Warnings: Mentions of skipping meals, food in general. Self-deprecating thoughts, somewhat poor communication. Fem!Reader is fat (in all of the slasher!141 AU). Fluff!

You’ve been off lately. During mealtime with the boys, you barely eat, just poke at the food on your plate. It isn’t like you—you’re usually the one to cook and try out all kinds of new recipes to share with your lovers, or baking sweet treats to give them after a hard day—so for you to suddenly have no interest in food is concerning. Tonight is no exception. John made your favorite, beef stew and cornbread (a southern delicacy you taught him how to make), but you just mindlessly stir the stew with your spoon, eyes focused on nothing at all.

     “How was your day, dove?” Kyle tries to break you from your trance, but you only nod.

     “Helped a chicken give birth today,” Simon stares straight at you, ignoring the incredulous looks the other three men give him.

     Still, no sort of reaction from you, other than an uninterested hum. 

     “Ah went tae the doctor earlier,” Johnny says next. “Turns oot ah’m pregnant.”

     “Nice,” you deadpan, completely oblivious to the outrageous lies these dumbasses have been telling you. 

     “Enough,” Price furrows his eyebrows, dropping his spoon with a clang. “Darlin’, you haven’t eaten in two days.”

     This time, you listen. Immediately, you rush to defend yourself, eyes narrowed at the bearded man.

     “I’ve just been fe-”

    “Don’t you give me that bullshit about bein’ sick, either. I’ve seen you sick, and it was completely different than this,” he interrupts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Speak, baby. Tell us what’s goin’ on in that pretty head o’yours.”

     “It’s nothing,” you grumble.

     Simon sighs dramatically, slapping his palms down on the dining room table to push himself up out of his chair. Before you can protest, he picks you up and sits in your seat, then settles you in his lap. You try to wriggle free, but his hold on you is unwavering. 

     “Stop strugglin’ and tell us wha’ the fuck is wrong w’you,” the blond man grunts, strong arms wrapped around your waist so you can’t move as much. 

     “I hate my body!” You blurt, and the room falls silent. “I-I don’t know what you all see in me. I just… I look gross.”

     Tears build in your eyes and spill past your waterline, streaming down your round cheeks. All four men look at each other wordlessly, unsure of what to say. Their silence breaks your heart, and you manage to wriggle out of Simon’s lap. 

     “I’m going to bed,” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your sweatshirt and moping your way upstairs.

     Your bedroom is the furthest down the hall, the longest walk. Usually this fact doesn’t bother you, but with your state of mind the way it is right now, you can’t help but feel like it’s purposeful. You slam the door shut and lock it, purposefully avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you flop into bed. It creaks with your weight, and you let out another sob. 

     You end up crying yourself to sleep, clammy face stuck to your pillow. When you wake up, you find that your door is still locked and try your hardest not to burst into tears all over again. Not one of the boys came to check on you last night? It makes you feel even worse—are you that much of an eyesore that they don’t dare come see if you’re okay? The thought makes your stomach churn. A knock makes itself known on your door, pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Dove? Can you let us in?” Kyle’s soft voice sounds from the hallway. “Please?”

     “We wanna talk to you, sweet girl,” Price’s voice comes next, followed by more pleas from Johnny and Simon.

     With a shaky sigh, you oblige, unlocking the door and swinging it open. When your eyes fall on them, you bite back a gasp—they all look exhausted, puffy bags beneath their bloodshot eyes, frowns tugging their lips downward. You can’t imagine you look any better, but still, your heart aches seeing them look so down.

     “Hey, bonnie,” Johnny instantly brightens up when he sees you, and you have to fight the urge to push him off when he wraps his arms around you. 

     “Hi,” you mutter, impartial to the kiss the Scotsman plants on your temple.

     They all trail into your room nervously, and it’s just then that you notice a large jar in Simon’s arms. Your eyebrows furrow as you sit on the edge of your bed, waiting for one of them to speak up first.

     “I want to start by apologizin’, sweetheart,” John begins, sitting beside you on your bed. “We were all… well, none of us were expectin’ to hear you talk about yourself like that, and we panicked. That wasn’t fair to you.”

     You shrug, eyes focused on your lap. Price reaches out to grab your hand, gently running his thumb across your knuckles. 

     “You are absolutely stunnin’. You are the farthest thing from gross, dove,” Kyle sits on your opposite side, grabbing your unoccupied hand. 

     “Ah think ah speak fer all of us when ah say tha’ we love yer body,” Johnny hums.

     “I’m fat,” you frown, and Simon scoffs.

     “Yeah? And?” He narrows his eyes at you. “We like y’like tha’. More t’grab, more t’love.”

     “I don’t understand why,” you whisper, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. 

     “What’s not to understand?” John squeezes your hand. “You’re soft, and warm.”

     “The fuckin’ best at cuddlin’, too,” Kyle grins.

     “Great tits,” Johnny butts in, earning himself a jab to the ribcage from Simon. “Och- wha’?! It’s true!”

     “Wha’ the wanker is tryin’ t’say is tha’ you’re perfect. For us, in general—y’complete us, love. Your body is jus’ a plus,” Simon concludes, finally stepping forward to offer you the jar.

     “What’s this?” You ask, carefully pulling your hands out of Kyle and John’s. 

     “We spent all nigh’ gatherin’ up pictures of you tha’ we love,” Kyle explains, watching excitedly as you screw the lid off. 

     Inside, the jar is filled to the brim with photos and polaroid pictures—candids of you baking in the kitchen, napping on the couch, tending to the garden or the animals, even selfies you sent to Johnny when the two of you first started talking online. Mixed in with those is printouts of text messages they’ve all sent each other, fawning over you, some of which dating back to even before you met the others. Tears stream down your face yet again, but instead of being sad, you’re overwhelmed with love and joy from these men you get to call yours.

     “I-I don’t know what to say,” you sniffle, setting down the jar to wipe your eyes.

     “Don’t say anythin’, darlin’, just let us hold you,” John murmurs, pulling you onto the bed and wrapping an arm around your waist.

     Maybe being dogpiled by your four huge husbands on an already creaky bed isn’t the best idea, but hey, all that matters is that you’re happy.

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[elsfairy]

sitting on Abby's strap while she reads, that's it

oh, so true

This wasn’t how you had planned the night to go. In fact, you had planned it so much differently in your head. It first started with you making something you know your girlfriend liked to eat, and you know she would appreciate your hard work on something that has taken you countless few tries to make and get it right. She’s worked hard the past week, of course, you would make her dinner. Then you planned to make the entire night about her, maybe watch a movie she loves, or braid her hair the way you know she likes it, or better yet, run her a bath, and give her the best massage she’s ever had. But it always changes when she finally gets home. Her hair always loose in her braid, the wispy strands stuck to her sweaty forehead, her clothes looking even tighter than usual on her body and you simply can’t stop drooling because she’s so effortlessly beautiful that you don’t ever have time to think until you’re following her around the second she walks through the doors like a lost puppy. Helping her take off her jacket, throwing her bag god knows where, and kicking her shoes under the shoe rack while she’s oblivious to your sudden hunger for her. 

Dinner was fine, she praised and praised that you always make the best meals for her until your cheeks started hurting from the smiling and obvious shyness to her words. As usual, though, she was quick to disappear into the bedroom for her shower, while you, the goddamn brat you are couldn’t handle her being so far away when you hadn’t seen her all day, so you followed. Like you always do. Even if she did need 5 minutes alone after a hard day at work. Maybe that’s why she was so adamant to make you listen.

It was indeed not the night you had planned. You did want her to take a nice relaxing bath, you did want to watch a movie with her and you did want to make the rest of the entire evening about her and what she wanted to do but the second she walked out that bathroom, droplets of water running down her body, hair sticking to her face, you simply couldn’t fucking do it.

She could always see through your little facade.

And that’s how you somehow ended up in her lap, strap so deep in your cunt, and your soft little moans filling the silence of your bedroom. To make it even worse? She wasn’t even paying attention to you. You’re literally cockwarming her strap, hips trying their best to move, and it’s failing miserably because she has one hand gripping your hips, holding you down and the other holding her book. Seriously? you’re a whimpering mess above her, and she’s caring more about that stupid fucking book than you? Her girlfriend? “What’s the matter, baby?” her voice stoic, eyes flicking over the words on the page slowly, lips quirked up just slightly at the whines you’re letting out. “I told you to give me 5 minutes after my shower, but being the brat you are, couldn’t wait for me to get myself together could you?”

Your bratty whine in response was an answer in itself.

“So while i read the last few pages of my book, you’re gonna sit there, make it nice and wet for me and maybe, just maybe i will give you what you want. hm?”

“No— need you now”

“Brats don’t get what they want. be a good girl— my good girl. just sit there and look pretty until I’m done”

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part seven)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, pedro (srry he's a big part of this chapter)

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: hi everyone! I literally just posted saying idk when I would update again but I decided to look through what I had written for this part and give it to y'all. she's a short one but it's cute. somewhat proof read lol. enjoy <3

part seven: closing chapters

You’ve been back in Los Angeles for less than a day and you already missed the simplicity of being with Hugh. Los Angeles was reality and it was an ugly one. All of the responsibilities came tumbling down on you and you felt like you were stuck in an inescapable maze. As much as you wanted to stay hidden, tucked under Hugh’s protective arm forever, you had to be an adult about this. You needed to stop ignoring Ashley and talk things out with her. You also needed to talk to Pedro and close that chapter that had been left wide open. Your personal life couldn’t have picked a worse time to get interesting. Tour started in two weeks, leaving very little time to tie all loose ends before traveling the world.

When you landed this morning, you ate a quick breakfast from a small cafe and went straight to rehearsals. They ran longer today to make up for the few days you were gone but you didn’t mind. Being on stage and performing the music you worked so hard on always upped your mood, even if you were unbelievably tired at the end of the day. At the moment, you were laying in bed, trying your best to stay awake while you waited for Hugh to call. He texted you a few hours earlier saying he spent the day with his kids and talked to them about the relationship you two had built over the questionable short period of time. He didn’t go into any further detail but promised to call as soon as he got home and settled. It was a little past 10pm, making it 1am in New York. Just as you were beginning to lose hope in Hugh’s late night call, your phone lit up with Hugh’s contact. 

“Hi Hugh.” You say sweetly into the speaker, sleepiness evident in your voice. “Hi, baby. Were you sleeping?” The deep accent you adored so much rumbled through the phone. “No, I was just laying down. How are you? How was your day?” As you speak, you move to sit up, your back resting against the headboard. “My day was good. It was nice to spend some time with the kids and catch up. We did a puzzle and talked, it was a nice day. How was your day, baby?” 

“It was good, busy. Basically hopped off the plan straight into rehearsals.” You let out an airy laugh. “I’m sorry sweet girl, I should let you get some sleep.” His voice trails off at the end and you know he genuinely feels bad for calling so late. “No, no…it’s fine. I want to talk to you. I don’t start as early tomorrow so I have some time to sleep in.” You assure him. “Are you sure baby? We can always talk tomorrow.” “I’m sure.” You let out a small yawn and Hugh chuckles.  “Hm, if you say so.” 

“Whatever..” You say playfully. The line goes quiet for a moment, neither of you speaking. “So uh…you told your kids about us?” 

You wanted to ease into asking but you were dying to know. Thay had been the number one reason you’d been so hesitant to take on a relationship with Hugh and you know their opinion means something to him too. If they didn’t approve or had any distaste towards your pairing, you weren’t sure if you could be with Hugh without having a heavy layer of guilt strapped to your heart. 

“Oh yea, I told them.” 

His response makes your heart skip a beat. Hugh was never one to beat around the bush but he was dragging this out and it scared you. 

“And what did they say?” 

Hugh takes a sharp breath in and your heart falls into your stomach. They don’t approve, you can sense the words about to tumble out of his mouth. 

“They’re fine with it.” 

His short answers are beginning to irritate you a little bit. You needed to know every detail of their conversation, you wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. 

“Hugh, can you please just tell me everything? Your lack of words is driving me insane.” You draw out the end of the last word, showing him just how frustrated you are. 

“I’m sorry baby, there's not much to tell. My daughter is a fan and begged me to introduce you two and um…well my son…he uh..this is so fucking awkward…” He huffs. “What did he say? I’m sure it can’t be that bad if they’re fine with everything right? Just spit it out, I can take it.” He sighs. “My son has a crush on you.” 

“Oh!” You can feel your body heat up underneath your duvet. “That uh…that is kinda awkward. What did he say about us being together then?” 

“He said something about how he doesn't understand how I was able to ‘bag a baddie’ like you, whatever that means.” You laugh at that. “He’s not mad, just jealous I guess. I’m really gonna have to keep an eye out for him when you meet them. I trust him, he’s my son, but I’m not gonna stand for his eyes wandering on my girl.”

You laugh again, partially because of his words and partially because of how wild this entire conversation is. 

“Well I’d love to meet your daughter and she’s free to come to any show she wants, I'll get her in. Same goes for your son as well, if that’s okay with you. I don’t want you to get too jealous and cause a fight between you two.” You giggle through the last few words. 

“Yea yea, we’ll see.” 

The line goes quiet again, a comfortable silence. 

“Hugh, I have a question.” “Shoot baby.” You can hear the sleepiness starting to appear in his voice. “I was wondering if you’d be okay with me going to talk to Pedro soon?” You hear rustling on his end before he speaks again. “Why do you want to do that?” There’s a slight hint of anger in his tone but you know it’s not towards you but towards how Pedro treated you. “I really need to talk things out with him. As much as I'm over him, there’s still a little part of me that needs closure, that needs to ask questions. I want this part of my life to be done but I need to have it properly sealed off.” “Could you wait until I’m back in town? I trust you but I don’t trust him one bit.” You smile at his protectiveness. “I really want to fix everything before the tour starts. I need to talk to Ashley too and the sooner I can get over this, the sooner I can put all my focus on the tour and you. So unless you’re planning on being back in town in a week, I need to do this alone. Is that okay?” He sighs and takes a moment. “Of course that’s fine baby. Just keep me updated on everything that happens.” “I will.” The two of you talk for 20 more minutes before you both call it a night, ending the call with “I love you”. 

The next morning, you immediately texted Hugh before rolling out of bed and starting your day. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. You opted for a lazy breakfast, too tired to do anything else. You popped a bagel into the toaster and fried an egg, laying a slice of cheese on top to melt. You made your little bagel breakfast sandwich and washed a few berries to go with it. 

While you ate, you scrolled through your phone. Hugh hasn't texted you back yet but it didn't surprise you. He was up late and with his age, he needed his sleep. You smiled to yourself as you thought about how peaceful he looks while he’s deep in sleep. While scrolling through instagram, you get an ad for Gladiator II. Your ex’s stupid hot face was plastered on your phone. You sighed and pulled up his contact. You were grateful you deleted the text thread you once had, you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing all of the previous sweet words he used to send you. 

You: hey p, it’s y/n. I was wondering if we could meet up soon and talk? no pressure :) 

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and slid it across your kitchen table. Your phone buzzed a few seconds later and your heart started beating faster…there’s no way he could have already responded. You reached for your phone, having to lift out of your chair slightly. When your phone unlocks, your heart slows down, it’s just Hugh. 

You texted back and forth with Hugh all morning until you pulled up to the Kia Forum. Tour was officially a week away from starting which meant you got to rehearse in the venue that would be starting the tour off. You’d been in the Forum a few times for various concerts but being here for your own performance was a different animal. Knowing that this place was sold out for you was wild. You caught up with all of your dancers, them sharing the same excitement. The energy in the building was electric. The crew was excited to get their creations in full and everyone was just happy to finally be starting. 

With being in a new space, the start of rehearsal was a bit slow. Lights, sounds, and various other things had to be adjusted now that everything was in full. You didn’t mind though. It gives you a chance to slow down and appreciate how far you’ve come. It was lunchtime and you decided to hide away in your dressing room to eat. A few people offered you to come with them but you really needed a moment to yourself. You were overwhelmed but in a good way. You grabbed some food from the catering someone had ordered, you made a note to yourself to find out who it was and thank them. 

Once you got to your dressing room, you pulled your phone out of your purse and scrolled through your notification log. Hugh’s messages were the first thing you saw. You were responding to everything he had sent when another message popped up at the top of your phone. 

pedro: hey y/n. I’m free today if you wanna swing by sometime? 

You pulled up to the familiar gates and typed in the code that was still etched in your brain. Once you parked your car in the semi circle driveway, you texted Pedro that you were here before taking a deep breath and stepping out of your car. It always looked out of place next to the large home, even more now that you didn’t belong here the way you once had. One of the brown French style doors open just as you're walking up the three concrete steps that lead to the entrance. You look up from your shoes. Locking eyes with Pedro, you feel your heart tense up. The pain of losing the man you had felt so deeply for re-entered your body involuntarily. He was wearing his typical casual attire: a pair of black cotton shorts, his beloved yellow lakers tee, and a pair of long black socks. The slight gray in his hair had begun to spread, the sides of his beard almost losing all color. He looked as handsome as ever. He held the door open with one arm, leaning slightly. A small smile rested on his face and his brown puppy dog eyes gave you the same feeling they had when you had first met him. 

“Hi y/n.” His voice sounded almost hesitant. “Hi P…Thanks for having me.” He backs up to let you inside. You slip your shoes off, like you had many times before. “No problem. I’m kinda surprised you wanted to talk to me, thought you would’ve been done with me after…well you know.” You don’t answer, instead you walk towards his living room and plop yourself down in the spot you had claimed many months ago, Pedro taking his own claimed spot not too far from yours. “It’s weird seeing you there again…missed seeing you here.” You sigh. “Pedro…don’t say that.” “Why not?” “You don’t get to miss me when you’re the one that left me. You hurt me P. Not the other way around.” He scoffs. “Sure didn’t seem too hurt to me. You moved on just fine.” “Can you stop being an asshole for two fucking seconds?” 

You wanted to come into this with patience and maturity but Pedro was making that impossible. He was being completely insufferable and had been since the moment he broke up with you, like it was somehow your fault. You missed the kind Pedro, the one you had fallen for. 

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? It took a month before you fell into someone else's arms, no let me clarify, my friend’s arms.” You could tell he was trying to get under your skin and you didn’t know where he gained this hatred for you. His voice was sour, a scowl present on his face. 

“God Pedro…” You sigh in anger. “Yes I invited him to the album party but he was there for me when you sat there and yelled- no embarrassed me at my own event. You don’t get to play victim in this situation. We weren’t together and hadn’t been together for weeks by the time I met him.” You could tell you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. The anger and pain both battled reaching for your throat begging to take control over your next words. 

His eyes go soft as he starts to speak again. “Y/n…I’m sorry about that, I was drunk and I-” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You know what? Fuck you Pedro. Truly. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. You broke up with me because the pressure was too hard on you. You come to my event and try to grab me, then you yell at me because Hugh came to check on me. Now you’re mad that I found someone that actually gives two shits about me, that isn’t afraid to deal with whatever comes with dating a younger girl? I’m over it.” You laugh again. “And now you want to apologize for that night when you’ve been nothing but rude since I sat on this couch? I came here for closure, nothing more. I liked you Pedro. I really really like you and you crushed my heart that night and every time I’ve seen you after. I don’t understand what I did to deserve this hatred that you’ve been throwing at me but it’s not fair.” 

Your anger had won the battle but your sadness would win the war. Your voice broke on your last words, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“It’s not fucking fair P…” 

You tuck your face into your sweatshirt, allowing yourself to cry in peace. Pedro doesn’t speak and the silence lasts for what feels like forever. You could feel a slight movement on the couch, then two warm arms wrap around your shoulder, a chin resting atop your head. The two of you stay like that for a while. You let your tears flood your cheeks until there aren’t any left. 

“I’m so sorry babygirl. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” 

You slowly pull your face out of the sweater. One of Pedro’s arms drops to rest on his leg, the other lay across your shoulders still. His water line was filled with his own tears, eyes red. 

“Then why did you?” He takes a moment to think and pulls you into his chest. Your head resting right above his heart, the beat a little faster than the one you had memorized. 

“Shit y/n…I know no matter how I say this, it’s gonna sound fucked up.” He squeezes his arms gently. “I was so scared, baby. When everyone started to form their opinions on us and kept pinning me to be some weirdo, I freaked out. I’m at the height of my career and I couldn’t imagine losing that…and you were right, I'm selfish. When I let you go, I immediately regretted it. I showed up to your party wanting to apologize. I had a few drinks, some liquid courage if you will, but damn baby, those fruity little drinks were a lot stronger than I thought they’d be.” You chuckle at the comment. “I was waisted by the time I saw you and when…Hu-...when he came to defend you, I lost my shit. I was so pissed off. Even in the state I was in, the look in his eyes was loud. He looked at you with so much adoration and I knew I’d already lost you.” 

He pauses. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for myself, I just..I just want you to- no, I need you to know what happened. I’m sorry for being an ass today too. I guess I’m not over you and it hurts that you’re over me.” 

You look up at him. 

“I’m not trying to be mean when I say this P but it’s your fault. I could’ve loved you….I was falling in love with you. My time with you was special, so different than anything I’d ever felt before. I think we would’ve been good together. If you would have talked to me, maybe things would be different. You should have talked to me.” 

“We could’ve been the greatest?” He gives a lazy smile down to you and you look down in shame, wincing slightly. “You watched it?” You ask quietly. “Yea I did.” He pauses. “You sounded beautiful up there, you’re so talented y/n…even if it was so clearly targeted towards me.” The arm that's wrapped around your shoulder moves, his hand resting on your head now, moving in slow circles. 

“Would you ever give us another chance?” He asks, looking down at you. The hope in his eyes pains you. 

“I love him P…” You see the small glimmer of happiness drain from his face. You were feeling just as hurt, knowing that if Hugh hadn’t entered your life when he did or if you had talked to Pedro sooner, you’d give him another chance without a second thought. 

“Does he treat you good?” You almost scoff at the question, given who’s asking, but you don’t have the heart to be mean to him anymore. “Yea he does…” You smile at the thought of just how well Hugh does treat you. “Well, then I’m happy for you.” 

“Are you really or are you just trying to be nice?” You joke and he shrugs. “The latter but truthfully if you were going to be with anyone other than myself, I’m glad it’s him. He’s good.” He smiles down at you and it almost reaches his eyes. “Speaking of Hugh…you kinda owe him an apology, mister.” You poke at the side of his chest that you’re not leaning on. “For what? Stealing my girl?” His words make your tummy stir. “I wasn’t your girl anymore. You called him old and yelled at him. He’s your friend, so apologize.” 

“He is old.” You punch his arm and give him a look. “Ow..fuck. Fine, I’ll apologize but I’m not sure how buddy buddy I can be with him anymore.” “I don’t really care about that, as long as you’re nice to him.” 

He doesn’t respond. You spend a few minutes feeling the warmth of his embrace, it was something you were going to miss. As much as you loved Hugh, Pedro had been someone special to you and it hurt to let him go, even with what he put you through. 

“How much longer do my pictures have on your instagram before I’m replaced by Hugh?” He jokes and your eyes go wide. “Oh fuck me…” You had completely forgotten about the pictures that littered your page. “I will.” He smirks. “Shut the fuck up. I’m deleting them in front of your face just for saying that.” You whip out your phone. There are a few texts from Hugh on the homescreen asking how it’s going. “I’m surprised your guard dog let you come alone.” “Oh believe me, he didn’t want me to but he’s in New York and couldn’t stop me.” You open instagram. “And for that comment, I'm making you press delete on these. You can feel the finalization of us being over. Consider it punishment for being such a dick.”  He laughed and pressed delete on the first one. 

In the third picture, you started to regret this ‘punishment’. “We were a cute couple. You remember that one? That’s when you came over and we fucked like rabbits all week-” “Okay your done. Give me my phone.” You shove him away after and he lets out a deep belly laugh. The sound made you pause for a moment. This was the Pedro you had enjoyed being around. It was always so easy to joke around with him and be yourself. You would miss him. 

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[crescentbelle]

Liability

Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader 

Angst

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: After a failed solo mission, Miguel’s punishment makes you feel as if you’ve become a liability.

finished this at 4am with my botchy Spanish skills so please forgive me.

It had been two weeks since your last fight, and equally two weeks since you had stepped foot out the careful watch of your boss, Miguel O’Hara. You weren’t given the luxury to mistake his hovering. His mindset was clear, you weren’t to be trusted.

One slip of a web was all it took, the anomaly you spent the last month tracking down slipped away, snatching your travel watch on the way out. You let the time pass crying out of frustration and being pushed down by a glitch each time you rose from the cracked pavement.

Maybe it was the amount of time it took for you to muster up the courage to tell Miguel you lost him again, or the fact that he then spent the next two days cleaning up the mess the escapee made. Either way, you had committed your biggest mistake since joining the famous group of vigilantes. Not that you could say their band together was infamous to any universe, but that’s what they were to you, and you had utterly failed.

One of Miguel’s star players had let him down, made a mistake so embarrassing to his reputation, that he couldn’t trust you outside his view. Banished to the filing of any and all reports that came through; that was the dignified job you took on. The only thing keeping you sane was to believe it was all just a humiliation tactic from his end, the more you fought against it, the more he succeeded. At this point you didn’t know what to think. The man barely spoke to you, even on his rarely chipper days.

Sat crossed-legged in a chair; you continued the boredom-striking task. Click drag. Click drag. You missed the moments when Hobie came to visit, the small times where you got genuine interaction and not awkward stares.

“you’re free to go now.”

Silence strung together with tension rose thick in the air. Will that ever fade?

He didn’t turn to look at you, his broad frame still turned to his own screen, eyes cold and cruel as ever. God, he really did find you pathetic after this one.

A beat passed. You always wondered if you should thank him, but that just seemed stupid. Thank you so much Mr. Miguel O’Hara for another silent day stuck at your brooding side. You chose the silent approach, slowly uncurling from your awkward position.

Making your way to the door, you heard him call on Lyla, muttering about a mission he needed to put another man on, one that wasn’t you.

“Just take her name off as an option, I don’t want her out right now.”

The words broke you down, weirdly in a way that no other snide comment from the man had before. Since you arrived all you strived for was the acknowledgment of your skills, to show you could become useful. Now, it feels like the rug had been pulled from under you. How long until you get sent back home? How long until Miguel admits you have become a liability?

Please just say anything else, anything so I know you don’t hate-

Miguel calls your name, sharp and devoid of any readable emotion.

“you’ve forgotten your day pass. That’s the second time this week.”

You gritted your teeth, “Thank you.”

“Try not to do that again, you’re glitching has gotten worse.”

That was it, The final stroke. Storming forward, you swipe the scanner off the desk, cheeks burning red with emotion. “You don’t have to scold me like I’m a child, Miguel.”

“Trust me, I know I don't.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not doing this right now, you can leave.” 

Beat. 

“It was one mistake! How does that constitute shunning me away?” Your body was hot, a magma bubbling into adrenaline. With a racing heart, you refused to back down. Everyday sitting in his office like a lap dog for all your friends and accomplices to watch, you couldn’t take it.

The man’s shoulders stiffen, his body toughening to a cold, ridged stance. Slowly, his gaze fell onto you. There they were, those piercing eyes.

That silent tension melted into something thicker and harder to hide from, fear. Fear that radiated off you in waves he could sense like a strike to the face.

“You don’t get to make those choices,” His voice spoke as a mutter, like he was hiding a seething tone from slipping out. “You don’t get to tell me how I choose to keep you safe.”

“You don’t get to talk about me like I’m not right here! I’ve always been on top of things- ever since I got here. Why do I slip up once and you get to treat me like I’m in idiot? Am I that humiliating for you?”

Beat. This one is too long, his eyes shift for just a moment, caught between thoughts. It’s a second of weakness that makes you apprehensive.

“I’m not letting you on any more missions.”

No-

“You’re sending me back.”

He shakes his head, dejected. “No, I’m not- just shit. Please don't make this harder than it has to be. For your sake.”

“Are you kidding me? You're asking me to never fight again!”

“Please-”

You take another step forward. “You’re asking me to throw away what I was built for! This is my meaning, why are you doing this to me?”

With the confidence he had left to muster up, Miguel stalked over to your frame. This was the closest you had been since he picked you up out of the alleyway you pathetically collapsed in, and the desperate feeling followed. To beg and kick like a child until he let you back in. It felt horrific and you wondered if he felt it too.

“I cant help it. Por favor, no te quiero lastimar. Please don't make me risk you again.” His hand moved up, close enough to your cheek that it makes your senses tingle, before its dropped down to his side again. “Please.”

“You’re hurting me.”

Beat.

With what feels like an instant, you’re being pulled into his chest. his broad arms caught you in his embrace, a hand coming to rest against your temple. Its simple, but it makes your heart ache. Never have either of you come this close. This is that desperate feeling bubbling up again.

You wonder if you should have pushed away; told him he's pathetic and walked away from this cryptic language you now share. But you cant anymore, not with his touch like this.

“I’m sorry.” The mumble of his words reverberated through your body like a purr. 

A single drop of a hot liquid hits your forehead and manages to roll down onto his thumb. You scan up to his face. That stoic stare he managed to always hold stood strong, staring off into a void like there's something better to worry about. But his eyes watered and the trail of a tear glimmered on his pronounced cheek. 

He guided your head back down to lay against him again and moved his gaze to the side, anywhere to avoid the way you look at him now.

“Don't leave, okay?”

[lila-lou]

✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 1✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 4385

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"Fucking shit!", Jack grumbled as he yanked the heavy piece of wood back into place, his muscles straining from the sudden weight. His colleague had almost dropped it from his side, barely catching it in time. Jack's patience was wearing thin after hours of working under the hot sun. They were up on the fifth floor of a building still under construction, the framework barely holding together as they handed over beam after beam to meet the firm’s relentless deadline.

"Watch it, man", Jack muttered, glaring at his coworker, and best friend, who shrugged it off with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t in the mood for apologies or excuses. He adjusted his grip, steadying the beam as they maneuvered it into place, his hands rough and worn from the constant grind. The city skyline stretched out in the distance, a reminder of how much work still lay ahead.

They were only halfway through the shift, and Jack could already feel the familiar ache settling into his shoulders. It wasn’t like he hated the job — he was good at it, and it paid the bills — but days like these made him wonder how long he could keep it up.

One misstep up here and things could go bad real quick.

A few hours later, as Jack made his way toward his car, the heat of the day still clung to him, though the sweat on his body had started to dry. His shirt stuck to his back, and every step felt like a reminder of the long, grueling hours spent on the site. His muscles ached, and all he could think about was getting home.

Just as he unlocked his car, he heard footsteps pounding behind him. Anthony, his best friend, jogged up with that usual grin plastered on his face. “Hey, man! You wanna grab a beer in town? Some of the guys are heading over to O’Malley’s”.

Jack groaned inwardly, barely holding back an eye roll. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by loud voices and more chaos. He glanced at Anthony and waved him off. "Dude, even my fucking balls are sweating. I'm beat to hell after this week".

Anthony laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, but Jack wasn’t in the mood.

“Nah, man. I’m heading home. All I wanna do is watch the football game, grab a bucket of wings, crack open a six-pack, and call it a night”. He paused and smirked, half-joking. “Might jerk off if I can stay awake long enough”.

Anthony let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Sounds like a hell of a night. Alright, man, catch you next time”.

Jack nodded, climbing into his car and slamming the door shut. As soon as the engine roared to life, he felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him. His mind was already on the couch waiting for him. Nothing fancy. Just a little peace, a little food, and maybe, if he wasn’t too worn out, a moment to himself before crashing into bed.

Half an hour later, Jack trudged up the stairs to his apartment, the bucket of wings tucked under his arm like a lifeline. His body ached with every step. Man, he was tired. All he wanted was to collapse on the couch.

As he reached the top of the stairs, nearing his door, a loud bang jolted him out of his thoughts. He froze, listening, and sure enough, there were more sounds—soft curses, followed by another series of thuds—coming from the apartment across the hall. The one that had been empty for months since the old lady who lived there had moved to a retirement home.

Jack paused, glancing over his shoulder at the door. Whoever it was clearly wasn’t having the smoothest move-in. He heard something fall again, accompanied by a muffled groan of frustration.

Jack groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand across his face. Just great. As if the week hadn’t been exhausting enough, now he had to imagine his weekend being a noisy mess thanks to whoever was moving in. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Instead, it seemed like his weekend would be filled with endless bangs and thuds coming from across the hall.

Another loud thud echoed through the hallway, followed by a soft “Ouchy” that made him roll his eyes. He could already picture some clueless person fumbling around with boxes, knocking stuff over, and generally making a racket. The kind of person who probably had no idea how to move without turning it into a circus.

Jack shifted the bucket of wings under his arm, debating whether or not to knock on the door. Part of him wanted to just ignore it, retreat into his apartment, and hope for the best. But the other part, the more frustrated part, was tempted to knock and tell them to keep it down. He’d had a long week, and he deserved a break, damn it.

Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, raising his fist to knock.

Just then, the door swung open unexpectedly, and there you were, looking frazzled and clearly unprepared for company. You were wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top, your skin glistening slightly from the heat. Your hair, a messy bun on top of your head, looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry, and you had no makeup on, not that you needed it.

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, staring at the younger woman standing in front of him.

You, on the other hand, were equally surprised to see the man standing in front of you. He had to be at least double your age, but damn, he was handsome—broad-shouldered, his shirt sticking to his body in places from what looked like a long day of work, and those tired, slightly irritated eyes that made him seem like someone who didn’t put up with much nonsense.

“Uh… hi”, you blurted, your voice a little breathless from all the moving. You glanced down at the two boxes sitting in front of your door, which you had come out to grab. “Sorry about the noise. I swear, I’m almost done”.

Jack let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I was kind of wondering if you were trying to tear the place down before you even moved in”.

You laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound, running a hand over your face. “Feels like it. I’m not exactly an expert at this moving thing. Been here all day, and I’m pretty sure I’ve destroyed more stuff than I’ve unpacked”.

Jack’s eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of your casual shorts and tank top, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. His gaze wasn’t lewd, but it was unmistakably assessing, like he was trying to figure you out. The tiredness in his eyes gave way to something more skeptical, maybe even judgmental. He crossed his arms, one eyebrow raising slightly as if he couldn’t believe someone as young as you could afford a place like this without some help from your parents—or worse, without a party lifestyle attached.

“You’re not planning on partying every day, though, right?”, Jack said, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion. His eyes lingered just a moment too long before meeting yours again. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of noisy neighbors—especially younger ones.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the implication. Seriously? He didn’t even know you, and already he was sizing you up like you were going to turn the building into a constant rave scene. You clenched your jaw, irritation bubbling up despite the exhaustion from moving.

“Uh, no”, you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. “I actually have to work. So no, I’m not throwing parties 24/7”.

His eyebrow quirked slightly at that, as if reassessing you now. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small grunt in response. It was hard to tell whether he believed you or not, but he didn’t press the issue.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling judged by this man who you had just met. He was rude, but still frustratingly handsome, even if you hated to admit it. “Anyway”, you added, trying to keep the edge out of your voice, “I just moved in today, so I’m probably more exhausted than you are right now”.

Jack glanced at the boxes again, the annoyance in his posture easing just slightly. He seemed to realize that you weren’t what he’d assumed at first glance. “Fair enough”, he said after a moment. “I’m not trying to be a dick. It’s just been a long week, and I wasn’t expecting… all this noise”.

“Yeah, well, me neither”, you said, rolling your eyes and grabbing one of the boxes. “Last thing I wanted today was to turn my move into a construction site soundtrack”.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you before Jack let out a small sigh, as if he were finally letting go of the tension. “Alright”, he said, softer now.

With that, Jack simply turned around, seemingly content to let the conversation end there. His broad shoulders shifted as he took a few steps toward his door, the tension finally draining from the air between you. You stood there for a moment, watching him, still feeling a bit stung by the way he had sized you up but relieved that the exchange hadn’t escalated into anything worse.

“I’m Y/N, by the way”, you called after him, hoping to salvage at least a shred of neighborly civility. Maybe if you introduced yourself, it would take the edge off his attitude.

But he didn’t stop. He was already at his door, turning the knob without so much as glancing back. The heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the hallway, leaving you standing there, feeling awkward and a little insulted. Clearly, Jack wasn’t the friendly type—or maybe he was just having a bad day.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the box a little tighter as you shuffled it into your apartment. Shutting your own door behind you, you leaned against it for a second, shaking your head. Great, you thought, this is going to be an interesting neighbor dynamic.

Moving boxes and unpacking was hard enough, but now you had to deal with the grumpy guy across the hall. You couldn't help but wonder if he’d always be this much of a grump or if this was just his post-work exhaustion talking. Either way, you figured you wouldn’t be getting on his good side any time soon.

Meanwhile, Jack made his way into his apartment, the door closing behind him with a thud. He set the bucket of wings down on the counter, exhaling as he ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He couldn’t shake the image of you—frazzled, yet oddly composed—out of his mind. It annoyed him, mostly because he knew he’d been unnecessarily rude.

Shaking it off, he emptied the bucket of wings into his air fryer and set the timer. He had earned this meal after the week he’d had, and he wasn’t about to let anything ruin that. As the air fryer whirred to life, Jack peeled off his work shirt, which clung to his skin, then kicked off his boots as he headed toward the bathroom.

The mirror caught a glimpse of his reflection as he stripped down, his body still sore from the grind of lifting and hauling all day. He sighed, stepping into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him. It was like the heat and frustration of the day started to melt away the moment the water hit his skin.

Jack leaned his head against the tile, letting the water cascade down his back, rinsing away the grime.

Around two hours later, Jack sat slumped on his couch, the room dimly lit by the glow of the TV. The low sounds of a porn scene played in the background, but his mind was barely focused on the screen. His head rested back against the couch, his eyes half-lidded as he worked his hand around himself, having slipped out of his sweatpants. This was his way of letting off steam after a week like the one he’d just had.

It was routine by now—something easy, quick, and without the complications of dealing with a woman who might end up being clingy or demanding more than he was willing to give. This was uncomplicated, his way of zoning out and shutting off the outside world. No messy emotions, no obligations—just a quiet moment for himself.

Jack exhaled heavily, his hand moving in rhythm as the sounds from the TV filled the otherwise silent apartment. His muscles were still tired, but there was a certain release in this moment. The frustrations of the day, including the brief encounter with you, seemed distant now. This was about turning off everything for a little while—no thoughts, no stress, just the physical release he needed.

And after? He’d down the rest of his six-pack and knock out on the couch, forgetting the world entirely, at least for a few hours.

But Jack had planned it all without accounting for you. Just as he was about to finish, his stomach tightening with that familiar tension, the loud, jarring sound of a hammer hitting nails into the wall echoed through the apartment, shaking the thin wall behind his TV.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Jack muttered, his mood immediately broken as the banging continued, louder now. He clenched his jaw, frustration boiling up again. He had been so close to just letting go of the entire day’s stress, and now this. The relentless thud of hammering kept going, pulling him completely out of the moment.

His hand stilled, and he slammed his fist against the side of the couch in frustration. Of course, he thought, it had to be the new neighbor. You were likely trying to settle in, oblivious to the fact that you were ruining what little escape he had. Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face as he sat up, the mood thoroughly killed.

The hammering continued, and Jack could feel the tension in his body shifting from desire to pure annoyance. He thought about just letting it go, but every time the hammer hit, it felt like another push against his patience. Grumbling under his breath, he yanked his sweatpants back up and stood, glaring at the wall as if that would somehow stop the noise.

For a second, he considered banging on the wall in retaliation. But he knew that wasn’t going to help. Instead, he grabbed a T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head as he stormed toward the door.

Time to have a little chat about the noise.

Jack was beyond fucked up. His head was pounding with the frustration of being yanked out of the one bit of peace he’d managed to carve out for himself. The incessant hammering felt like a personal attack. His mind was still half-focused on the release he had been chasing, now replaced by a surge of raw anger coursing through him.

He stomped to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. He didn’t care anymore if he looked like a pissed-off wreck. This was supposed to be his time to unwind, to shut the world out, and here you were, ruining it without even knowing. His thoughts raced, blending his frustration with the earlier judgment he’d passed on you. Young, new neighbor—probably clueless about the noise, or just didn’t give a damn.

He crossed the hallway with long strides, already regretting not saying something earlier when you’d first made a racket. Without bothering to calm down, Jack raised his fist and banged on your door with the same intensity as the hammering that had interrupted his night.

The hammering stopped suddenly, and Jack stood there, his jaw clenched, waiting. His breathing was still heavy, fueled by the adrenaline from both the frustration and the situation he had been pulled out of. He heard footsteps approach the door, and it opened to reveal you, looking slightly surprised and flushed, probably from all the effort of settling in. You still had that slightly frazzled look, your hair in a messy bun, and a hammer in hand.

“Hey, I—”, you started, but Jack cut you off before you could finish.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”. His voice was sharp, almost a growl. “I’ve had the longest fucking week, and all I wanted was to relax for once, but instead, I’ve got you hammering away like it’s a fucking championship".

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the aggression in his tone. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”.

“Yeah, well, now you do”, Jack snapped. “Some of us don’t want to listen to that shit at this hour”.

You stood there for a second, staring at him. Then, with a deep breath, you said, “Look, I didn’t mean to bother anyone. I just moved in, and I’m trying to get this done before it gets too late. But I didn’t think it would be this loud. I can stop”.

Just then, a heavy crash echoed from inside your apartment, cutting the tense moment between you and Jack short. Both of your heads snapped toward the source of the noise—your bedroom. Your face paled as realization hit you.

“Oh no”, you whined under your breath, eyes wide in horror.

Jack leaned slightly to the side, peeking over your shoulder, and sure enough, he saw straight into your bedroom. The massive bookshelf you’d just tried to hang with nails was now lying crookedly on your bed, surrounded by scattered books and what looked like pieces of drywall that had fallen from the wall.

He stood there for a moment, staring, trying to process what he was seeing. Then, almost involuntarily, a muttered, “Are you serious?”, escaped his lips. The disbelief was clear in his tone, but there was also a flicker of amusement breaking through the anger. His lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk.

“You really tried hanging that… with nails?”, Jack asked, incredulous, but there was something different in his voice now—a touch of dry humor.

You flushed, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you buried your face in your hands for a moment, groaning. “I thought it would hold! I didn’t realize it was that heavy!”.

Jack huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That thing’s massive. Nails? Really? You need anchors or brackets for something like that. Not nails”.

You glanced up at him, your embarrassment deepening, but his tone had shifted enough that you felt less defensive. He wasn’t ripping into you anymore, at least. “I didn’t think it through, clearly”, you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just… I wanted to get it done, you know?”.

Jack exhaled, still standing in your doorway, but some of the anger and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by the undeniable ridiculousness of the situation. He crossed his arms, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced from you to the chaotic scene in your bedroom. He seemed torn between frustration and reluctant amusement, clearly trying to figure out how he got roped into this situation. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, “If I put that stupid bookshelf on the wall… are you actually gonna go to fucking sleep after?”.

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected offer, and despite the roughness in his tone, there was a hint of something almost… helpful? You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just resigned to the situation. Either way, you couldn’t believe he was volunteering to help after everything.

You nodded quickly, still flustered. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the night”.

Jack rolled his eyes but stepped back into the hallway. “Fine. Let me grab my tools. I’m not doing this again tomorrow”. He shot you a look as if to say, You owe me for this, and turned back toward his apartment.

As he disappeared into his place, you stood in the doorway for a second, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you. This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but at least you weren’t completely on your own with the bookshelf disaster now.

A few minutes later, Jack returned with a drill, a level, and some heavy-duty wall anchors, looking every bit like the reluctant handyman he had somehow become tonight. “Alright”, he grumbled as he walked past you into your bedroom, “Let’s do this before I regret offering”.

You followed him into the room, standing awkwardly off to the side as he inspected the damage. He shook his head, muttering under his breath again. “Shit, the whole thing could’ve taken the wall down with it”.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah… definitely didn’t think it through”.

Jack just gave you a look before getting to work, drilling into the wall with quick efficiency. You watched in silence, half-grateful and half-embarrassed that this grumpy, tired stranger was now saving you from your own DIY disaster.

Within ten minutes, the bookshelf was back up, this time secured with proper brackets and anchors. Jack stepped back, giving it a firm tug to test its stability. “There. That’s not coming down unless you drive a truck through the wall”.

You grinned, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously”.

Jack gave a half-shrug, packing up his tools. “Just keep it quiet, alright? I wasn’t kidding about the long week”.

You nodded, grateful. “I promise. No more hammering”.

“Next time, get your damn boyfriend to do that shit before you and your furniture end up breaking through my wall”, Jack muttered, nodding toward the picture frame sitting on top of a moving box. In the photo, you were smiling alongside a tall, athletic-looking guy with his arm wrapped around you. Jack’s comment was laced with a hint of irritation, but also that same dry humor you’d been getting used to.

Your smile faltered for a moment as your eyes followed his to the photo. Little did he know, that guy in the picture wasn’t in your life anymore—and that was the whole reason you had moved into this place. The sting of your breakup surfaced briefly, the memory of catching him cheating on you still raw. You swallowed hard, quickly deciding not to let Jack in on that painful detail. It wasn’t like he needed to know, and the last thing you wanted was pity from a man who had barely tolerated your existence for the last few hours.

“I’m Jack”, he grumbled, finally acknowledging your earlier introduction. It was a reluctant gesture, his voice still rough with exhaustion, as though even saying his name was a chore. He barely looked at you as he muttered it, his eyes already shifting toward his door like he couldn’t wait to escape the interaction.

Before you could respond or even offer a polite “nice to meet you”, he was already halfway back to his apartment. The door closed with a soft click behind him, leaving you standing there in the quiet hallway, feeling the weight of everything settle on your shoulders again. His abruptness wasn’t surprising, but it still stung a little after the tense back-and-forth of the evening.

You let out a sigh, glancing back at the photo on the box. Jack, you thought, rolling his name over in your mind. He was clearly rough around the edges, quick to frustration, but at least he hadn’t been completely heartless. He’d helped with the bookshelf, after all—something he absolutely didn’t have to do.

You stood there for a moment longer, gathering your thoughts. The apartment felt quiet now, too quiet, after the chaos of the last few hours. The silence brought your mind back to why you’d moved in the first place, and without meaning to, you found yourself thinking of your ex again—how easily he'd broken your trust, how it had shattered everything you'd built together.

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. This was a new start, and you weren’t going to let thoughts of him ruin it. No more looking back.

Turning back to the room, you tidied up the last of the scattered books and straightened out the bedding. As you moved around, Jack’s gruff demeanor kept replaying in your mind—his judgmental comments, his unexpected offer of help, and the brief glimpse of amusement when the bookshelf came crashing down. You couldn’t quite pin him down, and that intrigued you in a way you weren’t expecting.

By the time you were ready to settle into bed, you found yourself glancing at the wall you shared with Jack’s apartment, half-expecting to hear some noise, but it was completely silent. You lay down, pulling the covers over you, and for the first time in a while, you felt a strange sense of calm. Despite the chaos of the night, the disaster with the bookshelf, and the awkward introduction to your grumpy neighbor, things didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as they had earlier.

Maybe this place would turn out to be a fresh start after all.

———————————

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. This story will definitely be a multi-part one.

I guess there will be also more from Jack in the future.

Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @cheynovak @ookidoki @deans-spinster-witch @n-o-p-e-never @riah1606 @stoneyggirl2 @saintnourah

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober 14

Kink(s): Spreader Bar (BDSM)

Pairing: Roommate Bucky x f! Roommate Reader

Tags/Warnings: SMUT, compromising situations, spreader bar, dubcon (barely), mutual pining/lusting, vaginal fingering, creampie, p-in-v (wrap it!!!), dirty talk, pet names (doll/sweetheart/dirty girl/babydoll), roomates to lovers

Not beta read

Summary: You get stuck in a compromising position but thankfully your very helpful roomie is able to "help".

Word count: 2.6 k

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: Originally, this was going to be roommate! Steve but I really liked his softness ... so duh had to make it Bucky Boy instead. This one is going to also be a drabble series probably, but not as sweet as Steve's (at first) - Love, Grem x

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You weren’t too sure  what possessed you to open your new toy as soon as it arrived nor do you know why you thought it would be a good idea to try it out  alone. But you did. And now here you are, in your new favourite lingerie, made up to the nines, legs spread and so very, utterly stuck.

You had been feeling rather blue since your break up a few months ago. Your roommate, Bucky, had been a godsend throughout it but you just had felt like shit. But when your favourite online sex shop had a flash sale the week before, you hadn’t cared how much you spent, it was the first time you had felt something other than numb or fleeting happiness in a while. And when it arrived this afternoon, you were practically ripping the box from the delivery driver.

You had planned it expertly. Bucky was out for the day so you could try out plenty of angles, positions and rooms with your phone in private.  You had showered, done your hair and make up to match the new lingerie you had bought and felt so unbelievably hot and confident – it would be a waste not to snap some pics. Then it occurred to you to snap some with the leg spreader bar. Why not go all out?

But you’d bent too far over the back of the sofa, trying to get that perfect angle that would show off your plump ass and the bar, and now your feet couldn’t touch the floor and you’d slid too far forward  but not far enough for you to reach the floor with your arms and push yourself up. Even if you did, you risked injuring yourself somehow.

And what would happen if Bucky came home with Steve and-or Sam in tow? A cold , icy tingle ran down your spine. Uh oh. You’d never live this down – it’s embarrassing enough your crushing on your hot roommate without him seeing you like this, least of all his friends. Thankfully, your phone was still clutched in your hands and you huffed as you attempted to find Bucky's name in your contacts to warn him what he’d be walking into and to please, please, please not bring any guests home.

You: Hey, so this is gonna sound weird but I’m kinda stuck right now so if you could stay out a while longer that would be grand! X

You: and please don’t bring anyone around until I am unstuck!!!

You: Sorry x

Your face flushes with embarrassment and you mutter to yourself. You’re only snapped out of your thoughts when Bucky messages back.

Bucky: Stuck? Are you okay, doll?

Bucky: I’m on my way back. I can help.

You scream into the sofa pillow. God this couldn’t get any worse.

You: No, it’s really alright. It’s pretty embarrassing, actually.

The response is immediate.

Bucky: it’s alright. I’m happy to help and I won’t judge. Promise doll :-)

Curse Bucky and his kindness and curse him for being a big, dumb, helpful idiot.

You: Fine but you need to close your eyes when you come in!!!

Bucky only responds with a thumbs up emoji and you sigh. Whatever he’s expecting to find, you didn’t know if your current position would be better or worse. You hoped better because you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Bucky in that way. More than once. And the thought of him finding you like this would have had you pressing your thighs together – if you could do that right now.

It took about ten minutes for Bucky to arrive home and you were wriggling wildly and yelling at him to close his eyes when you heard his keys rattle in the lock.

“Alright, alright doll. My eyes are closed.” He chuckled, closing the door behind him. “Where are you?”

“On the sofa.” You reply meekly, heating flooding to your cheeks.

“The sofa?” You can hear the confusion in his voice as he comes closer. “How are you stuck on the sofa?”

“I- uhh...” You trail, realising there isn’t much of an explanation to your predicament other than the truth.  “I was trying out something and... look it’s not important just please help and keep your eyes closed.”

Bucky shook his head in disbelief even though you couldn’t see it, you knew he was smiling. “Fine. Fine.”

“I’m in the mid- oh!”

 in Bucky's blind attempt to reach you with his eyes closed, he’d managed to bump right into you hitting his shins painfully against the spreader bar with a muffled clang.

“Ow!” he yelped, eyes flaring open to see what he’d hit only to be graced with your ass covered in lace. His eyes trailed down your stocking-clad legs, eyes widening as they spread apart to make a perfect triangle  with the metal bar secured at your ankles. “Oh.”

The sound was breathless, his mind blank and jeans suddenly too tight at the sight before him. He’d dreamed of you like this before but this was almost too comical to be real. It was like you were being served to him.

“Bucky?” You asked shyly, shaking him from his stupor. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He says thickly. “Tell me what you need.”

Your heart beats at a break neck pace. He hasn't opened his eyes has he? Even so, his helpful comment has almost rendered your brain, and legs, to mush.

“I - um - just so my feet touch the floor,” You explain, wishing you were literally anywhere else. “Then I’ll die of embarrassment in my room.”

“What were you doing?” Bucky asked, shamelessly gazing at your ass whilst you still thought (hoped) his eyes were closed. He wasn't sure if he'd get an opportunity like this again. It was much better than seeing you in a towel or pyjamas and better yet than his own imagination. He could feel his fingers twitch, itching to reach out and grip your hips, but resisted; trying to remember you were his roommate and friend.

You face burns hotter and there’s a slight tingle in a place you know shouldn’t be tingling when Bucky is being so kind to help you through this embarrassing time. But explaining to him that you were taking boudoir photos is possibly your newest low.

“I was taking photos,” You admit sheepishly, grateful he can’t see your face right now. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire and you don't know if it's in a good way or a bad way.

“Photos?” Bucky's mouth dries out. Photos for whom? He wished he could see them. Wished they were for him. Hell, he wished he could take them. Especially taking ones that captured the very moment you came, preferably over his cock, so he could keep it close by when either of you were away - just in case he had to rely on his imagination and needed a prompt.

You swallow thickly, the embarrassment seemingly never ending. “For me. They... God,  this is so embarrassing. They were to make me feel sexy.”

“Ah, right.” Bucky says absently, his mind only full of thoughts of pulling you against him. He pushed the thoughts away. You were his roommate. You trusted him to help. “But you are sexy.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle awkwardly. “Um, if you just grab my hips and pull me back I...” you swallow, mind racing to the gutter but before you can finish, Bucky's large hands are on your hips; half on skin half on lace. His flesh fingertips are rough and hot against your skin but the metal fingertips are surprisingly soft but cool and, coincidentally unbeknownst to you both, you and Bucky both stifle sounds of pleasure. You shiver as you feel yourself being pulled slowly backward, heat and an uncomfortable damp settling between your legs as Bucky effortlessly, though slowly, pulls you back to standing position.

As Bucky gives one final tug, there’s the click of your heels on the floor. Unfortunately, your heels rock back and you lose your  balance and to stop yourself from falling you stick your ass out on instinct, grabbing the back of the sofa to steady yourself.

Which would have been fine had Bucky not been stood behind you with a hard on. Your ass brushed past the tent in his jeans and you gasped.

That’s what broke Bucky.

“Fuck, doll, you look so good. All spread out for me.” He said gruffly, making you whine quietly.

“Buck.” You turn your head to look up at him, face flushed and wide eyed but God you look so perfect laced up, legs spread and bent double in front of him. You’re not sure what to say – what to ask – all you know is that you’ve been crushing on your roomie and he’s probably just said one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard in your life. Maybe that’s why you say possibly the dumbest thing that comes to mind.

“You were supposed to keep your eyes closed.”

A blush creeps up Bucky's neck as he looks down at you, hands still on your hips and intent on not letting go. His chest rises and falls with heavy pants and he grips your hips a little tighter. “Sorry doll, I just- shit. You look so good. I -Sorry.”

“It's not a bad thing,” you say quickly, feeling your own breathing become laboured. “I – I’m glad you like what you see.”

Bucky's eyes close and he stifles a groan. “Doll, don’t look at me like that.”

“Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like you want me to fuck you right here, like this.” He growls, eyes glowering down at you with heat so intense your body lights up. “Like you want to have me balls deep inside of you.”

Your mouth opens slightly as you stare up at him. You’d heard him curse before but not like that. You never thought that your roomie would say something like that to you. Your legs shuffle as you try once again to squeeze your thighs together, the needy ache between them becoming to difficult to ignore.

“Maybe I do.” You respond hoarsely. “Maybe I've thought about it.”

Bucky's grip on your hips becomes ever so slightly painful. “You have?”

You only nod and Bucky curses loudly.

You heard the click and clang of his belt coming undone, followed swiftly by the zipper his jeans behind you and God did it make you soaked just knowing he was about to have you. Your panties were tugged to your knees in one quick motion and before you could react to the sudden lack of clothing two of Bucky's cool, metal fingers sank inside your pussy without warning, making you moan loudly.

“That’s my dirty girl,” he praises, working your already slick cunt with his fingers with a smirk. “You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you? Feel good?”

“Yes, Bucky, yes!” You moan out eagerly, jutting your hips backwards even further into him. The metal fingers curl and scissor inside of you, stretching you open in front of Bucky, whose flesh hand squeezes the cheek of your ass roughly.

"Shit babydoll," He murmurs, moving his fingers out of you slowly, teasingly dragging them along your folds to make you whine. He looks at his glistening fingers with a satisfied smirk. "I think you're ready for my cock already."

Bucky doesn't even take the time to undress fully, his jeans hanging low on his hips as he frees his cock, tapping it against your ass cheek tauntingly. You wiggle your hips, trying to angle your legs so you could feel the thickness and heat of his cock against your skin again, but Bucky's flesh hand holds you firmly in place. You huff in frustration and can feel his tip on the curve of your ass again, this time trailing cool, sticky pre-cum.

"Excited are we?" Bucky watches you shift again, your ass looking even better covered in his pre-cum than the lace. He guides his length through your folds, sighing with delight at the silky warmth around his cock, and chuckling his tip nudges your clit making you moan his name.

"Please, Bucky." Your groan is muffled into a couch cushion. The slow torture was killing you in the best way possible and you were already desperate to have him fuck you.

"Please what, doll?" Bucky asks, repeating the motion with his cock again.

You curse loudly before gasping out, "Please fuck me."

Bucky grins triumphantly. "Oh, with pleasure, doll."

He draws his cock back up along your folds and sinks into you, hard and fast, filling you to the brim and bottoming out in one thrust. Your hands dart out in front of you to steady yourself as you make a silent oh. Bucky's metal arm circles your waist, pulling you to stand a little straighter as he waits for you to adjust.

There's a kiss to your shoulder blade. Then another. You swallow thickly, trying to regain the ability to breathe as you relax onto Bucky's cock with a long, drawn out fuuuuck. Once you relax into him, leaning further back into him, Bucky begins to thrust upwards erratically. The slapping noises of skin-on-skin are drowned by the sounds of Bucky kissing your neck and murmuring filth that makes your eyes roll in ecstasy.

“I used to hear you and your boyfriend fucking – he never could fill you up like I can, could he?” Bucky murmurs lowly, taking a moment to pull put of you slowly and back in again, appreciating how your pussy grips his cock and sucks him back in. His words make you groan out and this time you answer before you get to lost in the pleasure to respond.

"No, he c-couldn't."

Your body jerks when Bucky slams into your pussy again and this time you're sure you're seeing stars. Your orgasm isn't far and from the way Bucky's thrusts are getting sloppier, you know his isn't far either.

"Your pussy feels fucking amazing, doll." Bucky huffs, his metal hand retreating from your waist and back to your hip. "I could fuck you all day."

Your eyes roll and you can feel your pussy grip his cock tighter; on the precipice of your orgasm and desperate to take all Bucky can give. Your face flushes at his words even though they barely register in your fucked out state.

"Please," You keen at him. "I'd love you to fuck me all day."

Bucky pulls your hips to meet his roughly, making you squeak before speeding up his thrusts again. "Yeah, doll? You would?"

You barely manage out an mmhmm through your moans, your pussy throbbing greedily around his cock. "Yes, please - fuck. I'm - I'm gonna cum."

Your arms reach blindly behind you, grasping at Bucky's hips to hoist yourself just a little bit higher; letting Bucky's cock reach a new depth in your sopping cunt. You cum almost immediately with a loud, shuddering gasp and struggle to find your breath as Bucky continues to milk his cock for a few more seconds until he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

Then the apartment is all but silent apart from your breathing.

The weight of what happened between you both setting in as you stand joined together, sweating and panting, in the living room. You think you'd laugh if you didn't think it would be so awkward. Bucky's the first to speak, clearing his throat.

"So..." He slips his softening cock from you and your eyes flutter slightly. "You needed help getting this bar off your feet?"

[sohnric]

SUGAR TALK — S. JAEYUN

pairing: jake x fem! reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers au, vacation au, summer au, fluff. a tinge of first love au. jake and the reader discussing their feelings. shy jake (somebody protect him)

wc: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, a sexual joke :(

a/n: thank u @csenke my beloved for beta reading and hyping me up into posting this i owe you my whole entire LIFE. also lowkey fuck u for dragging me into yet another fandom. anyways my enhablr debut :)) kinda nervous.... pls be nice or else ill cry

A midsummer night in Italy reveals many things you and Jake managed to hide over the course of your friendship—all over a quarrel about ice cream.

“Is it good?” you ask, pointing towards the ice lolly in Jake’s mouth, your legs propped up against the wall right next to where his back is resting. You’re currently laying on the floor– because the heat in Italy makes it unbearable to sprawl on the bed during summer, just the blankets laying under you being enough to make your body flood with sweat. 

“I asked you if you wanted it,” he grunts, taking his eyes off his phone screen and gazing at you through the hair falling into his forehead and shielding his vision, “and you said no.” 

“Okay, and? I’m not asking to have it, I’m just asking you if it’s good–”

“So you don’t want a taste, yeah?” he challenges you. A second of silence passes by as the two of you stare at each other wordlessly before he sighs, right as you open your mouth and utter out your next comment.

“I mean, you can just give me a taste, it wouldn’t hurt you–”

“I’m not sharing my ice cream with you,” your childhood best friend says, shaking his head at your greediness. 

“Why not? I was generous enough to let you have the last one, so you may as well share it with me in this terrible, terrible heat–”

“I’m not letting you lick my ice cream, that’s disgusting,” he mumbles. That comment is enough to have you snicker out loud– because even though you and Jake aren’t teenagers anymore, your brain is still somehow stuck in the age where everything sounds like a sexual innuendo to you– but you manage to make the situation even worse when you let out your next comment, shocking the boy.

“You’re saying that as if it’s the first time we would be exchanging saliva.”

Jake almost chokes on the ice cream, nervously licking his lips. You and him have been childhood friends– with your parents being in the same friend group since high school, it was only natural for them to want their children to be each other’s safe haven as well. And it worked, for the most part– you could never imagine a better person to grow up with than Sim Jake, the energetic boy that lived just down the street from you– but that doesn’t mean you and him don’t have your fair share of memories you rarely talk about.

One of them being you kissing Jake when you got drunk for the first time. You just turned seventeen and although your parents were mostly understanding of your bad life choices, showing up home after underage drinking still wasn’t the wisest idea, and so Jake convinced both of your parents that you were staying over at his friend Sunghoon’s house instead. That boy can be really convincing when he tries to, and with the phone calls done and the fake arrangements in place, you two spent the night together in the nearby park.

In your drunken state, you managed to say a sentence that stayed in his mind to this day and haunted him on some nights: “You’re too pretty. I could honestly kiss you right now,” said slurred and with a voice tired– and without asking for his thoughts on the matter, you leaned in and just followed your gut. 

He kissed you back a few moments later– messy and uncoordinated– and although young Jake wanted to talk about the matter while it was still at hand, you fell asleep in his lap on the top of a skating ramp shortly after, leaving him dazed and confused, watching over you until the sun rose.

It’s now 4 years later, and somehow, you thought that bringing it up on a family trip to Italy– in the middle of the night, sitting on the cold tile floor of your shared hotel room– was the best time to talk about it.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember it,” you joke, watching the boy get a little red in his cheeks. “I was the drunk one and I remember, so there’s no way you don’t.”

Jake gulps down the ice cream melting in his mouth, averting his gaze from you completely. “I mean, it was my first kiss. Of course I remember.”

The moment the words escape his mouth, you feel like cotton was stuffed into your ears and the whole world stopped spinning. Your throat goes dry and you momentarily panic– you had no idea that you technically took your friend’s kiss virginity until now. Guilt washes you over– because what if he wanted to save it for someone else? Someone more worthy, someone he liked? What if he wasn't ready? You made that decision for him, and suddenly, you feel insanely bad– wishing that the ground would swallow you alive.

“So that’s why you were such a bad kisser–” you say instead, trying to act nonchalant– to which you earn yourself a kick to your side, having the boy laugh in embarrassment.

“Hey! It’s not my fault you caught me unprepared,” he says, shaking his head at you.

“Well, for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry,” you hum in all seriousness. Now is your time to avert your gaze from the boy, pointing your eyes towards your legs resting up against the wall. There is a moment of silence following your sincere words, and just when you think the situation got too awkward to continue talking about the incident– which is why you never really brought it up in the first place– Jake speaks up again, breaking the quiet atmosphere of the hotel room.

“For what?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“For kissing you without asking,” you say, furrowing your brows. “It was selfish of me. Had I known it was your first kiss, I wouldn’t steal it all for myself,” you snicker, feeling a little shy.

“Oh,” he hums just before you hear him laugh airly at your words. “I mean… I enjoyed it.”

“Did you?” you ask, allowing yourself to look back at the boy– noticing the softness of his eyes when he watches you, something in the air tensing, but making you feel like you’re floating, light. “Because you seemed pretty frightened back then.”

“That’s because I was embarrassed,” he explains, laughing. “I had a huge crush on you back then, so it was kind of a big deal for me,” he hums, a tint of pink appearing on the tips of his cheekbones, eyes glimmering a little in the low light of the room.

Now is your time to let out a dead-pan “Oh,” the shock of the new information still settling into you. With how long you’ve known Sim Jake, you thought you could read him like an open book– easily and clearly. Most of the time, you were really in tune with his emotions and thoughts, you could predict what his opinion would be on most things and how he’d feel about certain situations– leaving you checking in with him whenever you sensed he’d be down but wouldn’t outright tell you to your face. But maybe you were wrong to believe this assumption– maybe you couldn’t read your best friend as much as you thought you could. 

Because you would’ve never thought of this being a reality. 

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew, but you didn’t want it to be awkward between us so you didn’t mention it,” he laughs, taking in the situation with much more lightness now, seeing how affected you are by the simple confession. This is not how you imagined this conversation to go.

“No?!” you exclaim, baffled. “How the fuck would I know?”

“Now come on, Y/N,” he sighs, shaking his head at you in disbelief, “I invited you to prom. I think that might have been a clear sign that something was going on,” he snickers before he continues munching on his ice cream. After speaking the fact into existence, Jake seems to be less nervous about the topic– approaching it with almost utmost nonchalance, leaving you space to process with panicked thoughts instead.

“I thought you invited me because you had no one else to invite,” you said, blinking slowly as if rebooting your brain.

“You thought I had no one else to invite?” he laughs, now in disbelief at your words. “I was cute in high school, thank you very much. You think no one else would wanna go with me?” 

“Okay, don’t get all cocky on me now,” you grunt, huffing and pointing your eyes towards the ceiling.

Your brain takes on the challenge of projecting every single memory of Jake and your high school self together, seeing all those situations with much different eyes. You remember telling your friends about how sweet of a guy Jake always was– carrying your stuff for you, helping you with your Science homework, walking you home after your tutoring, buying you lunch– ‘any girl would be so lucky to date him!’. Your little advertisements never worked out, though, because your best friend never really cared about any other girl in the first place.

Now you kind of see why. And it leaves you wondering– are the late night calls you two shared when you’re away at university really just two friends missing each other? Does he get overly-protective over you because he wants to take care of you, or is it jealousy? That one time he called you ‘his girl’, was it perhaps something deeper that you missed?

“Are we talking past tense, though?” you hear yourself speaking out, and you don’t know why you’re suddenly holding your breath.

When you look at Jake, the popsicle is in his mouth and his brows are raised in question. Thinking he’s confused, you ask again. “Or do you still have a crush on me?” 

The boy chokes a little on the ice cream, making you laugh at his animated response. His cheeks grow deep red, and he seems to be avoiding your gaze. Now, you’re no expert at body language, but if you were asked, you’d say this was a telling sign. 

“You know what? Just keep the ice cream,” he says instead, the sweet, cold treat levitating in front of your lips now. Satisfied, with butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your fingertips tingling when they come in contact with his skin around the wooden stick, you take the popsicle into your mouth with the knowledge that you won. 

Mid-july, melting into the hardwood floor of your Italian hotel room, you feel like there is something within your storyline that is slowly coming full circle. Maybe after years of denial, you’re finally going to face the feelings left unsaid.

[thefunkfactory]

Brotherly Love

Milan had hated having to live with his twin brother all these years, ever since they were kids Kingston used to torture Milan. He used to fart on his pillow, dangle his stinky socks over Milan’s nose while he slept, used to belch in his face constantly, etc. To put it mildly Kingston was Milan’s polar opposite, Milan was always fresh and clean, showering twice a day, changing his sheets twice a week while Kingston let his unmade sheets stew in his sweat and grime. Milan was so happy that now that the two of them had graduated that Kingston was going to be leaving home to go to Auburn in Alabama, it was a perfect school for him, he got in entirely based on his football prowess. Milan was going to be taking a gap year and saving up some extra money while he would still be living with his parents.

(Milan and Kingston)

It was a pretty normal day for Milan, he had gotten home from his job as a host and was walking into the kitchen to get something to eat. His parents were gone on a business trip and so the boys had been slowly whittling down the food in the kitchen for a few days now. Milan Kingston sitting on the couch in the living room from the kitchen eating something, opening the fridge Milan was met with a pretty sad sight, just some deli meat, condiments, and some beer. “Ughhh there is nothing to eat and Mom and Dad won't be back for two more days!” Milan groaned from the kitchen, between smacks of his lips Kingston said “Dude *smack* there is plenty *smack* of food! What are-uuuuUUUURRRP you talking about?” Walking over to the living room empty handed, Milan saw that Kingston was chowing down on his version of a charcuterie board, salami and prosciutto straight from the pack, mustard, and a beer. Grossed out by even the thought of the meal his brother was consuming, Milan lost his appetite a little. Sitting down next to his brother on the couch, Milan was asked “Where have you been all day bro?”, Milan replied with a condescending tone “I’ve been at work, something YOU can't relate to”. Milan had been forced to get a job as soon as he turned 16 “to build character” as his parents claimed but Kingston didn’t have to since apparently being the star quarterback was enough character building for his parents. “Yo bro you gotta chillax man” Kingston said in his usual moronic tone, peeved that there was no food in the house and now he had to deal with his lazy brother telling him to relax, Milan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Smirking, Kingston said “Hey, I know a good way to let loose bro!” sticking out his finger and pointing it at his brother, Kingston droned on “Bro…pull my finger! Huhuhu”. Rolling his eyes again Milan refused, “That’s disgusting I'm not pulling your finger, besides it’s covered in meat residue and mustard” Wiping his hand on his shorts, Kingston stuck his finger back out and promised “If you pull my finger i’ll buy us a pizza”. Enticed by the deal, Milan reasoned that he could deal with his brother’s funk, he had been dealing with it for almost two decades now. “Fine…I’ll pull it, but you better buy us an extra large!” Milan grabbed his brother’s finger and gave it a tug, he heard a gurgling Kingston’s gut and then it shot out, BWOOOOOOMMMMPPPPFFFFFFFFF. Covering his nose Milan yelped “KINGSTON THAT IS FOUL WHAT DIED IN THERE?!” it stunk worse than anything his brother has produced before. As the fart trailed off and the grimace disappeared from his face Kingston responded with “Not much besides beer and meat today…”. “I’m getting away from you and your rotting gut!” Milan said as he stood up. Losing his balance Milan staggered and fell back onto the couch right from where he had gotten up. “WOAH! Bro are you okay?!” Kingston said as Milan crashed back down into the sofa. “I…ummm my head…it’s so…foggy…” Milan couldn’t figure out what was happening to him, it was so odd, he hadn’t gotten up too fast so it couldn’t be that. Milan put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes tight, “I just…need a second…” he muttered softly. He heard more gurgling sounds coming from next to him and heard the sofa cushion move as his brother leaned away from him. Lifting his leg Kingston ripped out another noisome fart and let out a pleasure filled sigh “It’s gonna be nice to have a brother who I can get along with”. Smelling the amplified stench surrounding the two, Milan began to cough and cough “Please…stop…” he got out between coughs. Kingston heard his pleas but found no reason to stop so his gut just kept producing more and more meaty gas for him to rip, it was like pulling his finger flipped a switch in his gut. The smell brute would not stop farting especially once he could see his brother changing. Milan’s pleas for mercy ceased and he sat there next to his brother lifeless, the amount of gas that his brother produced invaded his brain and stopped Milan’s brain minus the integral functions. Milan was sitting slouched back onto the couch, eyes open and mouth hanging like a trout. Kingstop watched as his brother began to become more like him, he couldn’t help but chuckle with glee as Milan’s arms began to swell up with nice developed muscles to match his ever expanding legs. Milan’s limbs grew with muscle and just a little bit of fat. Milan couldn’t even begin to process what was happening, hell he couldn’t stop himself from drooling as it welled up behind his lip and eventually spilled over. Kingston looked on with joy and awe as his twin brother’s shirt began to rip at the seams and fall apart, his pants did the same but were just barely being held apart.

Kingston began to smell a buttery scent and his dumb mind began to wonder “Who is making popcorn?”, suddenly he realized the smell was coming from Milan’s feet, once petite and nimble, they had grown massive and klutzy but most importantly to Kingston they had grown awfully malodorous. Looking back up at his brother he realized that while his attention was focused on Milan’s rank feet, his body had changed more. Milan sat a little higher on the couch once his buttocks inflated with fat and muscle to become massive orbs that bounced as he walked. His stomach bloated into a tummy bigger than he ever had before, his chest turned into massive pecs, Milan’s neck widened into a huge thick log almost too big for his head.

Kingston caught a whiff of another unpleasant aroma, lifting his own arm he sniffed his hairy armpit, “Nope, I still stink the same” he thought. He realized that much like his brother’s feet, Milan’s pits might have matured into proper B.O. producers, not the flowery scented underarms Milan always shaved clean. Hastily lifting his brother’s arm, Kingston was met with an eye watering stench that actually surprised him. Dropping the growing boy’s arm, Kingston clenched his watering eyes and fanned his nose, “PEEEE-UUU!” Kingston exclaimed, “MANNNN YOU SMELL RIPE BRO!” he said proudly. Lifting up his arm again, Kingston wafted the stench from his brother’s rank forest of pit hair. Letting the sour stink cling in his nose, Kingston grinned and realized that he should have done this sooner.

Prouder than ever, Kingston patted his brother on the back. Once Kingston removed himself from Milan’s captivating armpit, Kingston looked at his brother’s face only to find that the cute boyish brother sitting before him was gone, a softer jawline appeared and stubble grew across his lip. His eyebrows grew thicker and untamed, and his eyes grew dull. The last noticeable changes were that his lips plumped up a slight bit more and his hair shortened on top and puffed out on the sides right above his ears. “How you feelin bro?” Kingston asked, Milan grunted, showing the first sign of intellect since Kingston gassed him. As soon as he grunted Kingston heard Milan’s gut begin to churn, and just like his revolting brother, Milan ripped the fattest and nastiest smelling fart the once dainty boy ever had. THBBTTTBBBTttbbbbsssssssst.

It flew out strong and loud and was a squeaking trumped by the end. Kingston took a deep breath of his brother’s intellect that was now nothing more that eggy vapors filling up the room. Looking at his newly minted brother he asked “Ready for that pizza bro?”, “HELL YEA BRO!” Milan shouted out “I gotta warn you tho, it’s gonna turn me into a gas machine”, “Dont worry bro I already did that for you!” Kingston joked. Furrowing his brow a confused look spread across Milan’s face “Huh?” he blurted out, “Forget about it bro just focus on being the stink-machine you always have been” Kingston told Milan. A dopey grin stretched across his face and Milan stuck out his tongue. He lifted a leg and leaned away from his brother, “You got it broooooo” and a revolting silent but deadly fart slipped out of his magnificent cheeks.

[wayfayrr]

Surprise!!

I'm back from my break, taking some time just to clear my thought's feels like it's worked wonders <33

To set things back off with a bang I've got the grand prize winner for @glowyskull in my 200 followers raffle!! It's self aware twi deciding to take certain matters into his own hands after his darling reader was gone for so long - since he's fresh out of twilight princess in this one he's going as link rather than twilight as well I hope you enjoy!! <3

[masterlist]

Of all the days to get sick it had to be today, of course it is. I’m somewhat grateful for the extra day off though even if I would’ve preferred not being sent home early, it’ll give me some time to sort out some things I’ve been pushing aside for a while. Maybe I could start by finally sorting out some boxes of old things I’ve been putting off for ages. Well, now that box is a lot emptier than it was when I started and I’ve finally found my old Wii - I wonder does it still have my old Twilight Princess save? Maybe I could see, there’s not much else to do now I’ve finished sorting everything out. Just gotta get all the wires plugged in correctly and then … There! It’s certainly working which is a good sign, now all there is to do is to open it up and check up on something I thought I had lost long ago. 

This isn’t how it should open - I know what the opening is supposed to be.

There should be something here, not just this, not just this dark empty noise. Maybe the data got corrupted or something, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“..Dar-li-in’?”

“...”

“Darlin’ is that - you - you’ve finally come back darlin’? I - I ain’t alone anymore?”

…What is that - that can’t just be file corruption, that was someone speaking to me… It wasn’t the clearest, it sounded like it had been put through rounds of compression but that was definitely a voice… 

“You are there aren’t you darlin’? Please - I don’t- I can’t go - I can’t”

“I can’t go back to how I’ve been stuck I can’t - I can’t do it anymore… I know I’m supposed to be the courageous hero but I -”

“- I can’t do this anymore… I ca-n’t do - this… not - no-t any-m…”

He cut himself off with his own sobbing… I’ve never heard anyone sound half as broken as this, it’d be the rawest I’ve ever heard anyone cry if it wasn’t for all of the distortion… What has he been through? Now that the static has lessened - It’s links model, but more humanlike? It’s like there’s a person on the other side of the screen and not just a character.

But that means He’s the one crying…The way he’s standing is just as heartbreaking as his sobs are, his hands pressed up against the glass, his head hanging low and endless tears falling down his face. How do I go about - I know where I can start… 

“...Link? Can you hear me - I - I’m not sure if I’m the darlin’ you’re talking about, but right now, You aren’t alone link.”

“[Name] - you ? Oh darlin’ you - You’re really here - ‘m not imagining this? You - you’re finally back?”

“Yeah, I’m here link.”

His crying sounds happier now, but it still doesn’t sound anywhere close to stopping - I don’t expect him to stop crying for a long while though. It has to have been what - at least a decade since I last played? - has he been trapped in there aware the whole time? 

“You aren’t - you aren’t going to leave me again, are you? Please darlin’ - I can’t go back - it’s so - I can’t. Please. Darlin’ you can’t leave me again - I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds even worse now, it’s heartbreaking and I think he knows how inhuman he sounds if his wince is anything to go off of, how he sounds is hurting him too.

“I thought I’d tried every way to get out… but I - I never got the chance to do it when the game was on… You won’t be able to leave me if this works… will you darlin'?”

Here I thought his crying sounded scary, the way it’s fading into laughter is downright haunting. It sounds so wet as if he’s choking on his tears as he laughs. 

“I’m finally going to get out- I’m not - I’m not going to be stuck anymore.  Darlin’ I”

For the first time since this all started he’s looking up at me, lifting his head like it’s one of the heaviest things to exist just to make eye contact with me. He looks… he looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“W-what are you - what are you planning to do link?”

“... I don’t know… All I do know is that this glass keeping us apart? It’s so thin… I think tha-”

The way he silenced himself suddenly isn’t so shocking, not when a smile is cracking its way across his face mirroring the glass underneath his fingers. His breath and mine hitched before his laughing picked back up with even more distortion. 

“To - to think darlin’ - all I  - it just - it just needed to be on - I… I…”

Blood coated my shelf now due to how desperately his hand is reaching for something to hold onto after the glass tore into his skin. This is all just a fever dream though so…

Without much more thinking I reached out to take his hand, wincing slightly as the glass caught in his skin dug into mine. Immediately his grip tightened with a choked sob coming from him, like he didn’t expect me to help him. It doesn’t take long after that for him to shatter the screen in his desperation, falling out onto me knocking us both to the floor. Shards of my tv embedding themselves into any bare skin of his, blood - his blood - streaking out from each and every wound now marring his face as proof that this is real.

The same blood that’s starting to stain my shirt.

“I’m here darlin’ - ‘m finally out.”

“Yeah, you are Link, you’re out of there now.”

Everything feels so fuzzy, maybe my fever really is messing with me more than I thought. Real or not though, I should deal with the cuts on his face, he isn’t from here… Who knows how deadly even the most basic infection could be to him?

“...Link, if I may you’ve um… you’ve gotten a lot of cuts from …that and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them as they are. Would you mind if I...?”

“You would - darlin’ you’d do that just for me?”

“I’d do it for anyone who needed it… and you really need it. I don’t want to think what could happen if I don’t. I’ll just need to get up to grab some supplies okay?”

As I shifted to get up he let out a low groan and buried his head more into my torso, clearly very against the idea of me moving in any way. Even trying to gently pry him off of me isn’t helping at all, he’s not letting go anytime soon; his grip only seems to be getting tighter with every movement I make. 

“Link, please… I don’t know how your body could react to an infection and we don’t have healing potions or fairies here. I’ll be back in just a second I swear.”

“Darlin’. You aren’t leavin' me again, I’ve already spent far too long without you when you abandoned me for so, so long.”

Why does he sound and feel so real this can’t be… this has to be a hallucination. Come on [name], just deal with this as it comes. 

“I don’t need to leave you then, you can stay with me while I get what I need. Does that work for you?”

A gentle nod followed by loosening his hold on me was a good sign that he is okay with this, despite how frail and overwhelmed his face makes him out to be. Getting up still isn’t the easiest thing to do with how he refuses to let go of me despite if he did then it would far easier for the both of us to get up. Then the moment I do finally get up immediately his arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls himself up with me, almost as if he’s struggling to stand on his own; not that I’ll question that now, there are other issues to be dealing with.

Shuffling over to where I keep my first aid kit, link could clearly tell it wasn’t the best idea to keep ahold of me while I get it, instead leaning on the wall keeping himself upright as his eyes never left me the entire time his hands weren't on me. Like he’s scared I’m going to up and vanish or something. Because I did. I did and I left him in that place. I left him to rot.

“Okay I’ve got it link, let’s go sit down and I can treat your wounds.”

“M’kay darlin’.”

Leading him back to the couch with his arms securely around my waist again was faster than before, letting me move him into the position that would be more comfortable for him while I do this. 

“Okay wolf boy, this isn’t going to be the best. After I’ve taken the shards out, I’ll have to disinfect the cuts. So this is gonna sting a little alright? Just try to keep still and it’ll be over faster.”

The silence was tattered with the occasional whine and whimper as I pull each and every shard littering his otherwise perfect face. It wasn’t long till I was preparing some rubbing alcohol on a cloth just to be certain there won’t be any more risks. Just got to do it before I start getting too drowsy from this fever. 

“There you go Link, not much longer now, you’re doing amazingly. I’ll warn you again though this is really going to sting.”

“Darlin’ nothing could sting worse than the feeling of you abandoning me all that time.”

Hissing and pulling away when the cloth came close to touching him seemed to disprove that faster than he meant for it too. Not that I didn’t expect him to try pulling away from it, just not pushing my hand away while pressing himself into my other side. With a soft sigh, I let him grab onto my free hand with both of his, the image of him clinging to my sleeve like a plush toy being one of the cutest things I would have ever seen if not for the blood streaming down his face. 

“Come on, you were doing so well. I promise it’ll only take a moment more then it’ll be done with…”

That seemed to do the trick, despite the clear pout and his tightening grip whenever it seemed to hurt a little too much, he’s let me clean the blood off of his face and clean the wounds. Now just to bandage him up and -

“All done link, see it was worth it right? Now you don’t have to worry about all those cuts; I can go and lie down for a bit now too.”

“Lie down but - but I just got here… can’t we spend more time together?”

“I do want to link, I can promise you that. I’m just not feeling well, I haven’t been well for this whole time really; this fever is taking more of a toll on me than I thought it would.”

“Fever? Oh, darlin’ you, you should be resting not dealin' with me [name]. I - I didn’t even realise, I just. I was so excited to be here with you that I didn’t even notice you were in pain. How could I even call myself your lover?”

What did he just-?

No don't worry about that at the moment [name].

Laying my head on his chest after gently shoving him onto the couch is such a comforting feeling; if he’s just my fever trying to convince me to rest, well I wouldn’t mind getting sick more often. 

“‘s alright link, don’t worry about ‘t. I’m just, gonna sleep for a little bit. Then if you aren't just a hallucination we can spend more time together later.”

Hands carded through my hair only seem to push me further into sleep now, there’s no point resisting and forcing myself to stay awake now anyway.

“I know we will darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t ever letting you leave me ever again.”

[neetily]

Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, Cheating, dubcon, Magic pocket pussy, mean sebastian, Name Calling, Cunnilingus, accidental creampie, Objectification, ruined orgasm, Fingering — ✧ word count: 7,617 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling  insane  when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call  him  the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.

Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your  ‘playful’  comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally  dating his best friend ; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to  sister  in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that  you  moved into  his  home. More than anything he refers to you only as  brat , because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little  brat  who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s  exhausting  watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to  shut up ; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!

Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re  mean  and  you fucking know it .

Tonight, he decides to change that.

For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self.  Fuck  he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down.  It’s disgusting , the way he actually loves it.

He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you.  God , it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually   insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you  hate him . It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.

Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by  indulging . Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s  gross , because deep down he wishes it was  him .

You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan.  Fuckin’ brat,  he smiles to himself.  Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya .

It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how  he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right?  God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.

Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and  pretty , his throat immediately drying when he realises just how  attractive  it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a  replica , and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like,  how dare you  be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not  Sam . Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement.  Fuck,  okay, maybe it really  is  linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish  not  to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.

And he’s so close too,  God ; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s  right , that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs;  fuck , he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.

Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how  quiet  you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because  something  is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.

And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you  listening  to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so  perfect . The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is  real  causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.

A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you.  Pussydrunk . It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “ Dummy …” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything.  Really  making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because  fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah?  Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat.  Linked  to you in your room,  fuuuck  he wants to see your face  so bad . Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s  him  that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.

A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before  attempting  to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your  taste ,  fuck , can practically  smell  how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister  cunt—”  He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely  trembling,  shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a  good girl  for once. While he could eat you out  literally   all day  if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to  yank  him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering.  Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?

Small  haah’s  are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you.  So close , he pants to himself.  Wanna fuck you so bad , he almost whines,  for so long . Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s  close enough ; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.

And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter,  inviting him , even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of  more ; but he forces himself to resist.  Wait , he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels  so good, fuck , even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to  really  hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking  deserve .

You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so  wet  due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment.  Gross , he smiles to himself.

Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “ Shit— fuck .” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to  you . His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure  not  to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked.  Ruined , truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.

And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you  slowly , forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be  enjoying  this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how  annoyed  he is. It’s  unfair  that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “ That’s it , fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.

More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can  taste  just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on  his  cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life.  Payback,  he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so  easily , willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a  good girl  for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.

But  fuuuuck  you feel so good, nice and tight and  eager , constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.

Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know  big brother  is fucking you properly.

God  he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left  uninformed . He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding?  God , you feel too fucking good it’s  unfair , should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.

“Stupid girl —” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If—  fuck, oh my God — if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease.  Faster , too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down,  can’t , really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply  getting off , uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel  so good : and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.

“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he  almost  wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”

You have   been  such a good girl  for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve  accepted  his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel  sooo good ?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How  cute  you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding  plap!,  sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.

A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as:  Big Brother’s . It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled  sis  caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and  keeping it there , lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.

He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out,  slowly  removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be  so frustrated  to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.

He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.

Brat: Can you come help me sebby?

A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.

Sebastian: No, I’m busy.

And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:

Brat: It’s serious, please!

Sebastian: … Where are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you  really  suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for  more , needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re  so close  and you’d take  anything  at this point?

Brat: My room, please hurry.!

Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room,  your hiding place . He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side;  thankful . You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more  convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?

But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re  hiding  from him. And  oh  it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking  his  help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—

“I—  Ah! ”

Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is  actually magic , unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension  dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment —and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight,  almost  moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.

All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and  soon . Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.

“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and  needy , a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For  him . It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps,  knows  that you aren’t, fuck,  look at you ; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more.  It’s your fault , maybe if you weren’t so fucking  cute  when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.

And it would, and he  wants to see it , but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of  go away!  While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking  pretty , by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.

“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so  prettily  like that, right?

[loveanddeepspacefanfic]

Sylus: living with you

Sylus x reader

🔞🔥🔥🔥🌸🌸

Sylus is like a brother! Synopsis:

He and his mom moved into your house. Your dad married his mom, so now you’re all living together, like it or not.

He’s old enough to be an adult but still stuck repeating his senior year of high school.

You’re in your second year of college and laser-focused on it, leaving boyfriends, parties—everything—aside.

He’s the opposite, always skipping class, coming home drunk. Most nights, you find him throwing up in the bathroom after some party.

In some ways, you hate him. Living with a guy like this—reckless, cynical, and a complete womanizer—is something you can barely stand.

***

One rainy day, your bus doesn’t show up. Your dad’s car is still in the shop, and there you are, sitting in the living room, desperately trying to call someone for a ride, but the cell signal is down. Missing class isn’t an option.

Sylus walks in from school; he has afternoon classes and usually gets home just after dark. He sees you, holding his helmet in hand, since he just got back on his motorcycle.

The room is dimly lit, with both your parents cozy in their bedroom, watching Netflix and enjoying the chilly weather.

—What’s up, sis? Something wrong? —Don’t call me sis! Stop being a jerk. My bus didn’t show, and I need to get to campus — you say, eyes fixed on your phone screen. —With that pout, I thought maybe you had a fight with your boyfriend. Oh wait, you don’t date, right? Annoying little nerd. —Shut up! If you’re not going to help, just leave me alone!

You move to the window, checking if the rain has let up, mainly to avoid looking at him. Sylus heads to the kitchen, pours himself a drink, and takes a sip with a smirk, setting the glass down on the table with a little thud.

He swings by his room, grabs another helmet, hesitates for a moment, and decides to approach you again.

—I’ll take you. Grab your stuff. —And who said I want to go with you? —It’s that or suffering in the rain. —I don’t need you! — you shout.

Fuming, you grab your bag, stuff it into a plastic bag, and storm out. Just before stepping through the door, you turn and yell:

—I’d rather walk in the rain than go with you!

Behind the door, Sylus swallows hard. He knew you were bold, but he didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.

You step into the rain, walking quickly, knowing there’s a chance that jerk might try to follow. Gritting your teeth, you hold back tears. The fury you feel at having him in your home, along with his mom, is overwhelming.

His cologne lingering in every room, his clothes and socks scattered everywhere, and his alcoholic mother trying to meddle in your private life—it’s enough to drive anyone mad.

Suddenly, you hear the rumble of his motorcycle. You pick up the pace, practically running. The headlights draw near as Sylus revs his engine and cuts in front of you.

You freeze to avoid getting hurt, your clothes and hair already soaked from the rain. Water pools on the asphalt, making your feet shiver with cold.

—Stop acting so stubborn and get on the motorcycle! Now! — he yells through the downpour.

—I don’t need you!— you shout back.

Sylus, losing his patience, gets off the motorcycle and picks you up with an unsettling ease, setting you firmly onto the seat. Startled, you adjust yourself, realizing how drenched you are.

— I’m taking you to that damn college. —No, I won’t go! I can’t sit through class completely soaked. —Then what do you want? Head home? The rain’s getting worse, so make up your mind already.

You hesitate, dreading the idea of your dad seeing the two of you arriving together. In your mind, Sylus is exactly the wrong kind of company. You’d promised your dad you’d keep your distance from him. Left with few options, you try to think fast.

—Just take me anywhere. You’re always skipping class-don’t you know somewhere decent where I can wait until it’s time for my classes? I don’t want my dad knowing I missed class. —Geez, so many conditions! Fine, just shut up and hold on!— he says, handing you a helmet.

You put on the helmet and try gripping the motorcycle’s side handle. But at the first speed bump, you instinctively reach for him, afraid of falling. Without meaning to, you place a hand on his chest, feeling his defined build and his heartbeat, which is racing.

He seemed tense, different. The feeling of his chest under your hand makes you swallow hard. You manage to pull your hand away, finally distancing yourself.

Sylus suddenly takes a sharp turn down a dark street. You know he’s into some questionable things, and it’s hard to imagine anything good coming from this.

But he surprises you. He parks in front of a small wooden cabin. It’s at the beginning of the road leading to the hills, a popular spot for tourists this time of year.

—What is this place? Some run-down shack?— you say, taking off your helmet and stepping off the motorcycle. —No! Believe it or not, it’s an Airbnb. I rented it earlier. It’s Friday, so I booked it for the weekend with some friends. —This is the kind of dump you hide out in on weekends with those lowlifes? —That’s none of your business, sis. —Don’t call me that!— you yell, raising a hand toward him.

Sylus catches your wrist mid-air, and the two of you lock eyes. He growls for you to get inside. For the first time, you decide to go along with it and step into the cabin.

Inside, you see it’s actually a cozy loft. The rustic decor gives it a warm, comfortable vibe—a hidden paradise behind the look of an abandoned wooden house.

—See? Not bad inside. From the outside, sure, it looks abandoned, but it’s cozy, clean, and the soft lighting’s just perfect.

You look at him in surprise. You’d never heard him string together so many coherent words before.

—You can go now. I’ll call you when it’s about time for me to finish class. —Your phone doesn’t have any signal. Remember? —Oh, right. Then come back around 10 p.m. You can go now. —You want to be alone by the highway? People will notice someone’s here because of the light. —When did you get so sensible? —Just don’t want to be blamed if something happens to you,—he says, mockingly.

You realize you might already be with the most reckless guy in town. Sylus has always been known to hang around with the worst guys. You swallow hard, suddenly aware you’re in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a guy nearly six and a half feet tall.

You sit on the bed, hugging your bag, unable to hide your discomfort. He notices your unease, snatches the bag from your hands, and tosses it onto a small table.

He pulls up a wooden stool and sits, facing the fireplace. The chill is settling in, so he starts a fire with surprising ease.

Silence hangs in the air for a long moment before he clears his throat. Still with his back to you, arms crossed, he begins to speak.

—Even though you hate having me around, I’ll take this chance to tell you some things. —If it’s to say something stupid, don’t bother. —I was against it— he says in a rough, intense voice. You huddle on the bed, deciding to listen. —I was against the marriage. But my mom was head over heels for your dad. I get that it must be hard, having two strangers in your house. —You don’t understand— you murmur.

Surprised, Sylus turns, glancing back at you. He sees that you’re far more hurt than he’d imagined.

—I understand more than I’d like to—he insists.

You realize you never really knew Sylus’s full story, so you take a chance, trying to start a conversation.

—How long have your parents been separated?

—My parents didn’t separate— he says, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You feel a jolt of discomfort but can’t bring yourself to ask anything further.

—My dad died when I was a kid. —I didn’t remember that. I’m sorry— you whisper.

—That’s not the point. The point is, my mom remarried almost right away—to a jerk. And I hated seeing that guy in my dad’s house— Sylus says, a deep bitterness surfacing.

—Sylus, please... I don’t want to dig into that. You’re getting upset!

Sylus tosses a few sticks onto the fire, taking a deep breath before looking back at you.

—Don’t worry. One night he drank too much and tried to hit my mom. I defended her, and he ended up falling down the stairs. Got what he deserved, you know?

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of each new detail he reveals. Despite everything, you’re starting to understand a bit more about what shaped his personality. For all his wild ways, he truly does protect his mom.

—There’s no need to be scared.

—How could I not be? You always seem involved with strange stuff. Your mom’s always getting called to school. Your friends are the worst. And now… you’re basically confessing you had a hand in your stepdad’s death.

—It was an accident, annoying little nerd. —This time just won’t pass… We hate each other.— you say, almost to yourself.

Sylus glances at you and, for a moment, considers how you’d react if you knew he’d slashed the bus tires so it wouldn’t pick you up for college. That he’d rented the cabin with the plan to bring you here. What would you do if you knew it was all intentional?

—Why are you smiling? —Doesn't it cross your mind that I might like you?

A jolt runs through you. Deep down, you’d suspected this conversation would come up eventually.

It was obvious from the way he’d sometimes look at you out of the corner of his eye. It was more than clear that he wandered around the house in a towel on purpose, or wore so much cologne just to get your attention. And it was obvious he hadn’t accidentally opened the bathroom door while you were in the shower.

That look wasn’t accidental. Nor was his tone when he teased you. The truth was, it was all very obvious, but you fought not to see it—because he was the last person you’d choose. The worst possible option.

Sylus steps closer and touches your face softly. He lifts your chin, tracing his thumb over your lips. You turn your head abruptly, avoiding his gaze.

—Are you ignoring me?— he whispers. — ...

Sylus takes your hand and slides it under his shirt, forcing you to stand in front of him. Shocked, you try to pull your hand back, but he grips your wrist, making you feel his rapid heartbeat. You close your eyes and grit your teeth, holding back any reaction.

—That night you took care of me when I was drunk… I wasn’t entirely out of it. You felt my heartbeat. You looked after me so our parents wouldn’t wake up. —What is this, Sylus?— you say, your voice trembling. —I think… something good came alive in me that night.— he confesses— My heart hasn’t beat the same since.

You swallow hard, trying once more to pull away, but this time he pulls you into a hug. The warmth of his body brings you an indescribable feeling of comfort. Slowly, you place your hands on his back, shyly returning the embrace.

—Stay with me. —Are you crazy? —I’ve always been— he whispers, his voice low and rough.

Sylus slides his hand through your hair, tilting your head back gently.

He kisses you intensely, and you can’t resist as his tongue meets yours.

With surprising ease, he lays you down on the bed, kissing you all the while as he slips off his black jacket, tossing it aside.

You try to push him away, but there’s no strength behind it. You want him—you want that scent of his on every inch of your skin. He trails kisses down your neck, whispering random words between them.

You murmur, half-heartedly trying to stop him, but he’s lost to the desire to have you.

He sheds his shirt in one swift motion, pulling yours off as well. Sylus leaves a trail of kisses over the exposed skin of your chest.

Before long, he removes your bra, pressing you against his chest, savoring the sensation.

He presses his body against yours, making you gasp into his mouth.

You feel his desire against your stomach, realizing there’s no turning back.

Your hands slide over his chest, helping him undo his belt.

With a hungry movement, Sylus lets his hand slip down, feeling just how ready you are for him. He growls against your ear, seeking your gaze for approval, desperate to end the torment.

You nod, and he enters you, filling you completely. His size makes you moan against his lips with each thrust.

Sylus alternates between slow, deep movements, bringing you both to a climax like two people starved for each other.

Sweat drips down his face as he bites your lower lip, savoring your last moans before collapsing beside you.

You both lie there, breathless, wrapped in each other’s arms. He kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, his voice still rough:

—This isn’t a fairy tale… but if love exists, I think it must feel a lot like this.

[moonlightspencie]

Everything Goes Wrong

Description: A few bouts of bad luck aren’t all that bad.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none. this is straight fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

The case had been a hard one, especially in the dead of winter in North Dakota. Not only had we been working tirelessly for a week and a half, but the cold had pretty much knocked me on my ass. I was sure I could say the same for the rest of the team, too. We were groggy and exhausted by the end of it.

Not to mention, we were all a little irritable with the fact that the hotel had screwed up our sleeping arrangements, leaving many of us pairing up in rooms that didn’t exactly accommodate two people.

I didn’t exactly pull the short end of the stick, getting paired up with Hotch this time around, but we definitely all were over having roommates. I needed alone time desperately a few times over the course of the time we spent, and never got it. I couldn’t have been the best person to room with considering how snappy I could get.

Then, right as we thought we were going home, plans changed again.

“You’re kidding,” Derek said as we stepped out of the local precinct.

We looked around at the snow pouring out of the sky. We could hardly see a few feet ahead of us.

“How are we supposed to get home in this?” Emily asked, groaning. “I hate the winter.”

Hotch let out a harsh breath. “Let’s try to get back the hotel, at least. I’ll call and see if we can take off, but don’t pack up yet.”

We were a chorus of annoyance as we trudged to the SUVs. It was a hard drive back, and I was more than thankful I wasn’t the one trying to drive in this. Our five minute drive to the hotel took thirty. The roads were a mess, and visibility only got worse as the minutes ticked by. It was a miracle we made it back at all.

Though, as expected, halfway through the ride Hotch got word that we would be staying the night again. Nobody took that news real well.

I sighed as I stretched out on the mattress almost an hour later. It felt more than good to finally rest after a full day on my feet. I couldn’t wait until it was my turn in the shower. I could practically feel the hot water soothing my sore muscles already.

Suddenly, silence fell over the room. It was already quiet, save for the sound of running water, but now… Something was off. Literally turned off.

I stood up, walking towards the heater with hopes that this wasn’t what was wrong. I should have known better. As my hand reached out to feel the warm air rushing out, there was nothing. I sighed heavily, retreating back to the bed to take a seat once more.

It was several minutes until Hotch was walking out of the bathroom, a towel around his shoulders, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. At least he looked comfortable before I had to deliver the news.

He took one look at me and knew something had happened.

“What is it?” he asked, voice exasperated.

I gave half a smile, nodding towards the heater in the room.

“I think we might be sleeping without heat.”

He furrowed his brow, doing the same thing I’d just done. He groaned quietly when he, too, felt no warm air against his hand. He mumbled something about calling the front desk, but judging by his facial expressions alone, there wasn’t much they could do about it at the moment.

He hung up the phone, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. First we don’t have enough rooms and you have to get stuck with me, and now this. This is ridiculous,” he huffed a sigh, looking around the room.

“It’s alright. You didn’t choose this place, and you certainly didn’t make, well,” I paused, gesturing around vaguely, “all of this happen.”

He shrugged, reaching up to rustle his wet hair with the towel around his shoulders as he stepped past me. I stood for a moment, just watching as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Then, I decided now was as good a time as ever for a hot shower, in hopes that the water would still be warm.

It was.

I got out of the bathroom almost an hour later to find Hotch already asleep in bed. For him to immediately hit the hay proved that we’d worked too hard on the case. I snuck into bed next to him after shutting out the remaining lights, curling into the comforter for some warmth. The cold seeping into the room from the broken heater was getting a little bit noticeable, but luckily for me, he definitely ran hot. I realized it the second the warmth under the blankets hit me. I effectively passed out within a few minutes.

The next morning was especially warm as I woke before my alarm went off. The heater must’ve kicked back on sometime in the night. I went to stretch, but found it much more difficult to do than I had anticipated.

I looked down to see Hotch curled up against me, and my eyes immediately widened. I swallowed a lump in my throat that formed quickly. I certainly hadn’t been expecting to see him like this, with a strong arm holding me to him. It was… attractive?

It would be a lie to say I’d never noticed him before. Who couldn’t? Even if he somehow didn’t catch an eye the second he walked into a room, he just had an aura around him. Some kind of presence that could pull a person in before they knew what was happening.

But, now, in the same bed with his arm draped over my stomach and his breath against my neck… This was a whole new feeling.

It was butterflies and warm cheeks and— something that I probably shouldn’t feel while next to my boss. But, then again, he definitely shouldn’t be cuddling with a subordinate. We were both a little guilty.

He shifted in his sleep, his arm around me moving a bit until his fingers were just under the hem of my shirt. Cuddling was one thing, but if I felt his hand on much more of my stomach, I felt I might combust.

“Hotch,” I whispered.

He didn’t budge.

“Hotch,” I said, a little louder this time. “Hey.”

He shifted again, this time squeezing his eyes together a little harder.

“Time to wake up,” I said, my hand on his arm.

His eyes slowly opened, though they suddenly snapped open when he realized where he was. He pushed himself off of me, quickly glancing over me to confirm he really was doing what he thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he rushed out.

“It’s alright. It was cold last night,” I said quickly, trying to soothe the nerves that were obviously eating at him. “At least it warmed up this morning.”

He shook his head as he stood from the bed, running a hand through his hair quickly. I swallowed, knowing he felt like he crossed a line.

“I really don’t mind,” I tried again.

“We should be downstairs soon,” he replied, glossing over my attempts. “I’ll be out soon.”

He walked into the bathroom without much of a glance in my direction. I huffed out a breath, quickly getting dressed before I heard the water in the sink stop. He opened the door right as I sat on the edge of the mattress again, hardly catching my eye as he did.

“Hotch,” I called, determined to get his attention.

He hummed in response, immediately ruffling through his bag as if there was something he was actually looking for. I stood, taking a few steps in his direction.

“Can you at least listen to me?”

I watched as his shoulders dropped with the breath he let out. He straightened, turning to face me.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes again.

“I’ve already told you it’s fine. You really need to take my word for it.”

“I was practically on top of you,” he said, looking at me at last.

Unfortunately, he finally looked right as my cheeks were heating up a tad. I didn’t expect that innocent of a phrase to have any effect on me, but apparently my brain had other ideas.

“You didn’t mean to. It was freezing last night, and we were kind of forced to share a bed.”

He was quiet again.

I continued, “Besides, when have I been the type to hide my emotions that well? If I was upset you would’ve known immediately. Honestly, you were keeping me warm.”

He cracked a small smile, though he tried to hide it.

“I promise I was okay with it. Really.”

He nodded. “Alright. Just— Don’t report me to HR.”

I laughed. “Deal.”

Half an hour later, the team was waiting in the lobby of the hotel for news on our travel arrangements. Hotch and Morgan had gone off to figure it all out, leaving the rest of us to sip on coffee and watch the blizzard outside.

“Well, technically, the blizzard ended 4 hours ago. Now, it’s really just a heavy snow,” Reid stated, hardly glancing away from the magazine in his hands.

Prentiss rolled her eyes, looking towards me for some kind of understanding. I smiled at her, sipping at my coffee. We heard voices soon thereafter coming towards our small group. Hotch and Morgan walked up, chatting quietly.

“We should be able to take off within the next few hours,” Hotch stated, glancing around at us. “I’ll be getting a call when they’re ready. Until then, let’s get lunch and make sure we’re packed up and ready to go.”

“Eating on the company dollar?” I asked with a smirk.

He looked at me, a small smile on his face and… a bit of a blush on his cheeks?

“Yes. So, make sure you all decide on someplace good.”

Now, when I looked back at Prentiss, she was the one with a smile on her face. One that wasn’t sympathetic in the slightest. I knew what was happening in that head of hers from the twinkle in her eye alone.

I started walking towards the elevator, knowing she’d follow me, but still hopeful that maybe she’d leave it be. My former assumption was correct.

She caught up just as the doors started shutting, crossing her arms as she stood next to me.

“So,” she started.

“So?”

“What was that?”

I sighed. “What was what?”

She quirked a brow when I looked at her. I shook my head, looking away again.

“You know what. I’ve got to say, I never expected to see Hotch blushing. What did you do to him?”

I chuckled. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh? Who did?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I asked, stepped forward as the doors of the elevator opened on our floor.

I hoped that line would shut her up for the time being, but that was once again wishful thinking. She practically chased me down the hall.

“You’re not getting away that easy.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Nothing actually happened.”

“He was smiling. And blushing.”

“You ever think it’s just because I’m charming?”

“No.”

I made a sour face, finally reaching my door. She raised a brow, giving me a proud smirk.

“I’ll find out, you know?”

“You’re sure about that?”

She shrugged. “Pretty sure.”

“Sure about what?” Hotch asked, walking up on us.

I looked away quickly, hoping to catch Emily’s eye before she said something she shouldn’t. Luckily for me, she got some sense in her head at the last second.

“Nothing. Just can’t pass up an opportunity to tease her.”

He raised a brow. “Right. Well, pack up. Sooner we’re done here, the sooner we can eat.”

She nodded once, sending me a quick wink before she turned and walked towards her own door. I finally unlocked the door, walking inside with Hotch hot on my heels. We silently packed the rest of our things, though neither of us had really unpacked all that much to begin with. He finished first, standing near the door to wait for me rather than leaving for the lobby. I glanced over my shoulder as I put my toiletries bag in the suitcase.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Just about.”

He hummed. “Prentiss was bothering you, huh?”

“When isn’t she?”

“What about?”

I shrugged. “I don’t even really know.”

He chuckled as I turned around. “You’re not a great liar.”

Maybe I liked him better when he was being shy about being all over me. He seemed a little too self confident now.

“Says you,” I replied with raised brows.

We made it to lunch in one piece, deciding that even though the roads were mostly cleared now, we’d stick close by.

Prentiss nudged me a few times during lunch, trying to get information out of me, but I refused. Though, it certainly didn’t help that I found myself looking at Hotch much more often than I usually would.

Maybe I’d had a small crush on him before, but now my brain wouldn’t stop reminding me of it. Every time he laughed or talked or moved or breathed. He was stuck in my head. It was ridiculous.

Embarrassment really came when I looked at him again only to find him looking at me. He quirked a brow as my eyes widened a bit at being caught.

Emily definitely caught that interaction.

I shook my head at her as she teased me, definitely noticing the self-satisfied smirk Hotch tried to hide at the interaction. He knew. Bastard.

We started the leave the restaurant when we got the okay from our pilot, but I didn’t get far before I felt a hand on my arm keeping me behind the others. I turned.

“I’d like to see you in my office when we get back,” he said with a quirked brow.

“What about?”

“We’re not sharing a room anymore, I need somewhere where I can speak to you in private.”

“You going to try to cuddle me again if I agree to be alone with you?”

“Not yet,” he replied, a smile barely there on his face. “Maybe next time. We’ll have to see how that talk goes when we’re home.”

I nodded, hiding a smile of my own. “Deal.”

[autisminabox]

I’m going to be discussing spoilers from the new update, specifically entailing Eddie. Spoilers are below the cut, so, like. Spoiler alert

One thing that stuck out to me right before Eddie “goes to Toyland” (which is what’s implied to happen) is the anger he felt. To me it felt incredibly out of place. Out of place for what’s supposed to be a children’s show, and out of place for Eddie.

We’ve seen Eddie in situations substantially worse for his staying focused on the job than people not having any mail. We’ve seen people jump at him, get pressured into literally lifting other people (and possibly a fucking house), and was too nervous to speak up for himself. We’ve seen him take a lot of shit from both Howdy and Barnaby in the audios, and he more or less took it on the chin. Julie overwhelmed him with her business game, and instead of getting frustrated, he just kind of… curled up.

So this strikes me as particularly odd. There are two explanations I can think of to explain why it happened. The first is a theory I’ve seen floated around about the puppets slowly deviating from the in-universe writers’ design. We see this contrast between how everyone acts in the books and ads and how they act in the bug audios; Barnaby had a twinge of meanness, Julie had a personality beyond being ADHD incarnate, Frank expressed kindness. It’s not out of the question. The second theory is based off of a few observations from earlier on: Eddie is notably from out of town, and is loosely implied to have moved in last out of the main cast. It wouldn’t be absurd to say that this leads him to being “not with the program”, even if him being the newest addition is only in-universe for the show (as opposed to him being literally constructed and written last)

The second thing that was prominent to me was Home’s response to Eddie entering Toyland. This is quite plainly conspicuous and intentional, but I wanted to bring attention to it because of the interesting implications of it. First off, Home is pretty much confirmed to be sentient now. I’ll be damned if there’s any coherent counterargument that doesn’t boil down to going “nuh-uh”. Second, Home is at minimum recognizing that something is happening to Eddie. It’s not clear whether Home is aware of what specifically is happening to Eddie, or whether or not Home had a hand in setting off the incident, but the fact that home recognized that something was happening to Eddie nearly instantly solidifies how intelligent and aware Home actually is. This isn’t inherently surprising, since we’ve already gotten word-of-God confirmation that Home has repeatedly beaten Frank at chess, however, this is the most pointed and direct example that we’ve seen in the actual project.

Third, the fact that Eddie specifically had The Horrors™️ enacted upon him first specifically (at least, as far as we’re explicitly aware of; It’s unclear whether Wally counts as having experienced The Horrors™️ or if he is the arbitrator of them. More on that later) lends to some very interesting suggestions. Five possible explanations I can think of work as follows: One, he knew too much about either the nature of whatever specifically is weird about Home (town), whether that be Home (house), Wally, another character, the monsters of the night, something else about the night, or he knew too much about his nature as a fictional character. There is some speculative support for this; first, the aforementioned outsider angle that he’s been played with, and second, his parallels to the scrapped character Sunny. Sunny was the most recent to move in within the beta continuity, he was the love interest for Frank, he was smart and likely knew too much, and he disappeared first. Two, his outburst earlier in the day proved to be too out of character and thus a risk and liability to whoever was in control of what happened to him. Aside from my above breakdown of that scene, and from the fact that there’s very prominent examples of Playfellow and Marlo (or perhaps Wally, if for whatever reason Evil Wally ends up being true) blatantly straightwashing characters and possibly suppressing free will of the characters, assuming that’s what we’re meant to take away from the bug audios. Three, Eddie realized the actual absurdity of the Pea On A Plate and “woke up”, lucid dream style. I don’t really like this interpretation, since the fact that it’s in several promotional materials and companion merchandise suggests that it was an absurdist humor bit in-universe, which isn’t farfetched considering how children’s shows tend to be. Four, there’s another reason that’s yet to be revealed as to why Eddie got selected first. To be a total Devil’s advocate, we’re still relatively early in what’s looking to be a very slow-paced story. We’re not gonna have all the details, and red herrings are going to pop up, intentionally or otherwise. Five, Eddie was selected randomly or with no actual reason.

There’s also a few possibilities for who sent Eddie to Toyland, which is interesting to me. First, it could be Home. It wouldn’t be surprising considering its mysterious and noted uncanny nature, and its prominence during that scene. Second, it could be Wally. While I personally don’t find it to be the most reasonable, since something of this magnitude being perpetrated by a character we have a face to would likely involve that character, there’s enough evidence of Wally acting aware and generally odd where it isn’t completely absurd. Additionally, it’s entirely plausible that Wally’s conspicuous absence during the entire arc is indicative of some sort of guilt. Third, the show writers, someone at Playfellow, or another party along those lines somehow caused it, either by technological or supernatural means we don’t know about or by some accidental bout of supernatural fuckery, such as rewriting something and it having bizarre effects on the characters. It’s out there, but not out of the question considering the weird shit they’ve done. On top of that, it’s not impossible that another entity or force somehow caused this that either hasn’t been revealed or explained yet.

As to what Toyland actually entails, I’ve concocted a few theories. One, he literally got up and mentally teleported to a land of giant toys. Two, it’s full Star Trek mode and there’s Horrors™️ so mentally stimulating that the only way it could be perceived by either us or Eddie that that’s all it can be perceived as. Three, Going To Toyland is some sort of initiation, rite of passage, or method of psychologically controlling the cast that everyone else either doesn’t realize is happening or has their memories of it forcibly suppressed. This could be supported by the aforementioned “Eddie is an Outsider” and it’s possibly his first Homewarming since moving to the area. After all, a housewarming is a celebration that welcomes and initiates someone to the neighborhood; would it be that odd that Homewarming is a twisted version of that?

Anyways. Those are my observations and a bunch of interpretations. Part of why I love this project so much is how mysterious and unclear the exact details are, creating excellent suspense and a drive to theorize, and leading up to a truly gobsmacking reveal or conclusion. This update certainly delivered. Whatever the answer is for any of the branching paths I described, it’ll almost definitely reveal how truly fucked up the perpetrator is (or, alternatively, how utterly fucked up the situation is in general, if there ends up not being an instigator) for, y’know, doing that. Clown and Co., you’ve certainly outdone yourselves, and the wait was worth it; this speculative theorycrafting this update has provided is absolutely incredible.