#huh. i miss my little snow white baby.

[readychilledwine]

Sigh, I miss Kaylee.

I'm spending some time on Bound by Fate tonight and hopefully get at least two chapters done.

Any suggestions on what we'd like to see?

Ps- azriel will be crawling. I promise that.

[enviedear]

baby—it's cold outside ❅ jason todd

part of enviedear's winter wonderland... 🎧ྀི after a mission goes horribly wrong, you get snowed in at a safehouse (rickety old cabin) with jason. you're both blaming each other for the failed mission, but the discovery that there's no firewood or heating has the two of you begrudgingly sharing body heat and blankets. wc 1.8k | fluff, enemies to (fragile) friends.

if you had known that jason todd would be even more insufferable behind the mask, you would have never accepted a solo mission with him. without roy or kori to mediate or halt arguments and general head-butting—the two of you were on edge even before the mission—the fact it ended with a knife slash to your thigh and blackened left eye for jason only elevated the tension.

what truly wrecks your composure, is the fact that you ran for miles in the freezing cold in search for a “safehouse” only to find that the refuge is little more than a hunk of wood and infested with cobwebs.

the floorboards groan ominously under your weight, and a frigid draft blows through the cracked windows. jason slams the door behind you with enough force to rattle the fragile frame, all the while muttering curses under his breath. he tosses his helmet onto a dilapidated table, and it skids across the surface before clattering to the ground. such overkill.

"great choice, boy scout." you sneer, limping toward what might pass for a couch—though it looks more like a death trap of rusty springs and questionable stains.

"you’re the one who ran us out there like we were on some survival show." jason snaps back, shrugging off his jacket to reveal his bloodied shirt and the beginnings of a nasty bruise along his left eye. "i suggested we double back to the van, but no, you had to drag me through the damn woods."

you whirl around, wincing as pain shoots up your injured leg. "as if any of this is my fault! jason, you’re literally bleeding from the face right now. and last i checked, i was the one who took a knife to the thigh because you didn’t cover me!'

he steps closer, broad shoulders casting an imposing shadow in the dim light. 'i didn’t cover? please, you were too busy trying to play hero to—'

"oh, screw you, todd!" you snarl, voice ricocheting off the hollow walls.

the tension is obvious, thick enough to metaphorically choke on, and you don't miss how your words make his knuckles go white. jason’s jaw tightens, his mouth opening like he’s about to fire back, but instead, he looks away, running a hand through his dark hair.

"fine," he mutters, breaking the silence. "let’s just…get through the night without killing each other, okay?"

you narrow your eyes but don’t respond, instead hobbling over to the couch and collapsing onto it with a hiss of pain. it groans under your weight, but it holds—barely. jason watches you for a second longer before sighing and disappearing into the next room, presumably to assess just how terrible this “safehouse” really is.

you glare down at your injury—bleeding minimal now—annoyed more than anything. working with jason threw you off your kilter. you're not incapable, and begrudgingly, neither is he. but together, it's as if you were.

your glare shifts upwards as jason returns, voice tinged with disdain, "we have no heat. or firewood." his hands snake into his jacket packets, "so, either we head back their direction...or...endure together."

"jason be serious." you gesture to the frosted window, "we're in the middle of a snowstorm—and we're both injured. we're fuckin' stuck here."

he huffs, shrugging his shoulders, "yeah, whatever. just glad you can't complain about it any more than me."

your eyes narrow, boring into his. "oh, don't worry, i’ll find something else to complain about. like the fact that you're incapable of taking responsibility for anything, for example."

jason snorts, kicking at a broken chair near the table. "yeah, because you're such a glowing model of teamwork, huh?"

you don’t dignify him with a response, instead leaning back into the couch with a grimace as pain radiates from your leg. the two of you lapse into a tense silence, the only sounds being the howling wind outside and the occasional creak of the ancient house. jason stands there for a moment, his weight shifting like he’s debating saying something else, but he ultimately heads to the corner of the room, sliding down against the wall until he’s sitting with his knees bent, arms draped lazily over them.

it’s not like this is the first time you’ve clashed. jason’s attitude is part of the package deal of working with him. but this? tonight felt like new territory, the heat between you boiling over into something dangerously volatile.

a shiver runs through you as the frigid air cuts through the thin layers of your gear. jason notices—of course he notices—but he doesn’t say anything, just pulls his jacket tighter around himself. you wonder, briefly, if he’s as cold as you are or if that ridiculous hot-headed temperament of his is keeping him warm.

“you’re bleeding.” jason says after a moment, his voice quieter now, the bite from earlier subdued.

“no shit.” you reply flatly, pressing a hand to your thigh. the gash isn’t life-threatening, but it stings like hell and is already making your movements sluggish.

jason pushes himself up with a groan and stalks toward you, pulling a first aid kit from somewhere behind his back. you eye him warily as he kneels in front of you, his movements stiff but deliberate.

“what are you doing?” you ask, even though the answer is obvious.

“saving you from yourself, apparently.” he mutters, yanking a bottle of antiseptic from the kit. “because you’re clearly too stubborn to ask for help.”

you bristle but don’t protest as he pulls a chair over and props your injured leg up on it. jason’s hands are surprisingly steady as he cuts away the fabric around the wound, his expression uncharacteristically serious. for a moment, you almost forget how much he irritates you. almost.

“this part's gonna sting,” he warns, and before you can retort, he dabs the antiseptic-soaked cloth onto your thigh. you hiss, gripping the edge of the couch, and jason has the audacity to smirk. “oh, come on. it’s not that bad.”

“says the guy who bitched over getting a splinter last week.” you snap, but the jab lacks any real venom.

jason chuckles under his breath. “touché.”

the silence that follows is strangely not as suffocating as before. his focus on cleaning your wound seems to soften the sharp edges of his usual bravado, and for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re one wrong word away from throttling each other.

when he’s done, jason leans back on his heels, hands at his hips, inspecting his work with a faint nod of approval. “you’re patched up. try not to get stabbed again anytime soon, yeah?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

jason smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer than necessary before he stands and tosses the bloodied cloth aside. “guess it’s my turn to complain now.” he says, pulling his shirt up to reveal the ugly bruise blooming across his ribs.

“good luck...” you say, already feeling the pull of exhaustion as the adrenaline from earlier fades. “no way i’m helping you after that little lecture.”

jason grins, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his expression as he grabs the first aid kit and sits back down. “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you're immediately grateful for his presence beside you—emitting warmth as if he's your own personal heater. "how long can we last here with no heat?" your question comes out less inconspicuous and more nervous.

jason shrugs, leaning his head back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. "depends. how good are you at cuddling?"

your head snaps toward him, eyes narrowing. "excuse me?"

he smirks, that stupid, infuriating smirk that you’ve come to associate with him being a pain in your ass. "what? body heat’s a thing. don’t tell me you’d rather freeze your ass off just to avoid touching me."

you open your mouth for a sharp retort, but the icy draft blowing through the cracks in the walls silences you. as much as you hate to admit it, he’s not wrong. the cold is seeping into your bones, and your body is already trembling despite your best efforts to hide it.

jason must notice, because his expression softens—not quite concern, but something close enough to surprise you. "look, i don’t like this any more than you do. but we’re stuck here, and unless you want hypothermia to be the cherry on top of this shit sandwich, we’ve got to figure something out—and that's what i figured out."

you hesitate, the stubborn part of you warring with the practical side. he’s annoying, cocky, and entirely too smug for his own good, but he’s also warm, and right now, that’s all that matters.

"fine," you mutter, shifting to make room on the couch. "but if you make one stupid comment, i swear to god—"

jason’s already moving, dropping down beside you with a dramatic sigh. "yeah, yeah. don’t worry, princess, i’ll behave."

the couch groans under his added weight, and you can’t help but glare at him as he adjusts, his arm brushing against yours. despite his earlier bravado, he seems just as hesitant as you, his movements careful as he pulls a threadbare blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over both of you.

"better?" he asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

you nod reluctantly, the warmth of his body already chasing away some of the chill. "yeah. just don’t get used to this."

jason chuckles, a low sound that rumbles in his chest. "trust me, you’re not exactly a dream cuddle buddy either. i'd much prefer a teddy bear."

the two of you settle into an uneasy silence, the howling wind outside a stark contrast to the oddly intimate bubble you’ve found yourselves in. jason shifts slightly, his arm brushing against your shoulder again, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face is relaxed, the usual sharpness in his expression softened by exhaustion. there’s something almost vulnerable about him in this moment, and it throws you off balance.

"thanks." you mumble before you can stop yourself.

jason glances at you, one eyebrow raised. "for what?"

"for…you know. the first aid. and not letting me freeze to death."

he smirks, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that;s rarely shown to you, "don’t mention it. seriously. i have a reputation to uphold."

you roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. the tension from earlier hasn’t completely disappeared, but it has redirected—altered into something less hostile and more gentle.

and as the storm rages on, you can’t help but ease into the man beside you. silently praising your little truce. for the first time all night, the tension between you feels manageable—almost tolerable. jason’s steady warmth presses against your side, his breaths evening out as the hours tick by. you’re acutely aware of every shift he makes, the weight of him against you unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

and when his head tilts to rest lightly against yours, you don’t push him away. instead, you let out a sigh, the fight leaving you completely, replaced by a heavy, hesitant calm.

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Headlock part 2 (part 1 in case you've missed it)

Hamzah X Reader (GN)

SFW, Socially awkward reader, Falling in love

The support I’ve received for my first fic has been incredible—thank you so much! I hope you enjoy part 2 as well. And feel free to let me know if you’d like me to write smut ;)

You were greeted by the comforting warmth of your house, making you strip off the heavy winter clothes still dusted with snow.

You hung them neatly on the coat rack and gestured for Hamzah to do the same.

He moved hesitantly, his stiff movements showing his unease despite his attempt to mask it.

You didn’t blame him. You were nervous too.

Having someone over, let alone someone you’d only met today, was unfamiliar territory.

Your nerves, however, melted away the moment your cat trotted over, her tail held high as she meowed incessantly.

“Hello, Marie!” you cooed in a baby voice, kneeling to scoop up the purring white ball of fluff into your arms.

Behind you, you heard Hamzah let out a soft, surprised “Oh.”as soon as he saw her.

“Now that’s a cute pussy.” he quipped, his tone playful as he finished unbuttoning his coat.

“She is.” you replied, grinning as Marie settled comfortably in your arms.

You carried her into the kitchen, setting her down briefly to fetch a can of wet food from the pantry.

Hamzah followed, lingering in the doorway almost waiting for you to tell him“make yourself at home” to move an inch.

Marie’s cries got louder as you opened the can, rubbing her head on your legs impatiently.

“Aristocats?” The boy suddenly asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

You glanced back at him with a smile. “Yep. That’s actually where I got her name.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The little fancy one, right? Marie?”

“Exactly.” You chuckled, setting Marie’s food into her bowl as she pawed at your leg. “You got any pets, Hamzah?”

His eyes darted to you as soon as you said his name, his expression growing more flustered.

“Yeah…” he muttered, quickly looking away. “Got two. Blue and Red.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, his fingers rubbing through his— now uncovered —curly head of hair.

“Original names, huh?” He teased, the corner of his mouth forming into a grin.

That name caught you off guard, you honestly thought he was joking.

But his expression was serious, his eyes fixed on yours as if trying to read your thoughts.

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment, but the weight of all the built-up tension finally cracked.

A chuckle slipped out as you hastily brought a hand to your mouth in a weak attempt to stifle the sound.

But despite your efforts, your laugh slipped out anyway.

Hamzah’s initial embarrassment faded as he watched your joy. His lips curled into a smile, soft and genuine, like he couldn’t help but be infected by your laughter.

“It sounds like a kid named them after the Pokémon game.” you managed to gasp between giggles, wiping a stray tear from your eye.

Seeing Hamzah genuinely smile, his eyes crinkling as he watched you, made your heart flutter.

The awkward tension that had lingered in the room melted away, replaced by a shared sense of joy.

It reminded you of the carefree atmosphere in the car earlier, that fleeting moment of ease between the two of you now making its return.

As the laughter subsided, Hamzah shook his head, a wry but amused grin on his face.

You quickly checked your phone and saw it was already past 11 p.m.

It’s late. Your gaze shifted to the window, where the storm continued to rage, snow hitting the ground with such a force that you could hear it even from inside.

Even though you'd felt quite drained at the party earlier, all this laughing had recharged your energy. You weren't the least bit sleepy now, even as the storm raged on outside.

Hamzah, on the other hand, seemed distracted, his attention fixed on his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, and the slight furrow of his brow suggested he was deep in thought-or perhaps just scrolling mindlessly.

You took advantage of the moment he wasn't looking, studying him quietly.

You never imagined you’d fall for a guy this quickly, but damn, he was gorgeous.

The sharp lines of his profile seemed almost softer now that you looked at him again.

His perfect curly brown hair caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but wonder how effortlessly your fingers would glide through the soft curls.

His lips, a soft shade of pink, were impossibly pretty, even when they weren’t smiling.

You were ashamed of the effect this stranger had on you, and it suddenly hit you: you were going to have to spend the night with him in your house.

It was late, and the storm showed no sign of giving up.

“Uhm… I’m sorry, I’m not prepared for this,” you muttered, setting your phone down before heading to a closet next to the kitchen.

You rummaged through it, pulling out a baby blue pillow and a fuzzy Hello Kitty blanket.

You couldn’t help but feel a little jealous; that blue pillow was incredibly soft, and the Hello Kitty blanket was one of your favorites as it always kept you warm.

You usually reserved those for special occasions, snowy nights like this, when you had time to yourself to relax with some TV and a cup of hot chocolate.

But you supposed this counted as a special occasion too, given the unexpected visit.

You placed them on your white couch and then glanced at Hamzah, then back at the couch.

It suddenly dawned on you—the couch was far too small to fit a man like him.

He chuckled softly. “Thank you.”walking over to where you just set his bedding.

Sitting down, he patted the pillow a few times.

“You’re not going to fit on that, are you?” you sighed, still unsure how this was going to work.

Hamzah laid on his side, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

Both of you couldn’t help but laugh like a couple of kids.

“Hey, at least the pillow’s comfortable,” Hamzah said, his smiling face slowly sinking into the soft pillow.

“Of course it is,” you chuckled. “It’s a silk pillowcase, honey.”

The nickname caught him off guard, making him giggle. His shoulders shaking with laughter while his face still buried in the pillow.

You could just make out the pink hue spreading across his cheeks as his smile grew.

When his face rose from the pillow, your eyes met, both of you slightly flushed and smiling as the awkwardness of the situation.

Your mind raced, trying to figure out how to organize the bed situation. It felt rude to make a guest sleep on the floor, especially someone like Hamzah, who had gone out of his way to drive you home.

The problem was, there wasn’t a guest room. Just your one bedroom, with one queen-sized bed. The right side was usually reserved for Marie, but it could technically fit two people.

Still, the idea of sharing your bed with a man—especially Hamzah—made your face heat up.

“I—if you want… you could sleep on the other side of my bed.” you blurted out, your words racing to finish the sentence as fast as humanly possible.

Your heart pounded as you stared down at your feet, your face growing hotter by the second. You didn’t dare look at him, too afraid of what his reaction might be.

What felt like an eternity of silence passed. Finally, you risked a glance at Hamzah, who was still lying there with the side of his head half-sunken into the pillow.

“That’s not—no, I can comfortably sleep here.” he said, scooting himself awkwardly along the couch. His long legs tangled with the cushions, and his head awkwardly tilted off the armrest. “I just need to— get myself—“

A nervous chuckle escaped you as he tried to adjust, grunting at the impossibility of it.

“Your Saddam Hussein ass cannot fit in there, boy.” you teased, half scoffing at the sight of the wiggling giant trying to squeeze himself onto your too-small couch.

Hamzah’s laughter echoed through the room, until it forced him to stop and catch his breath. He slumped back against the couch, his hands resting heavily on his thighs, his expression a mix of amusement and surrender.

Without saying a word, you grabbed the pillow and blanket, stuffing them back into the closet with a brisk efficiency.

Your footsteps were steady as you headed to your bedroom. Hamzah followed, the soft shuffle of his movements just behind you.

You entered your room, nerves tightening your chest. This space felt so much more personal—your space, now shared.

The walls were lined with posters and little mementos of your life, fragments of who you were.

Stuffed animals sat on your bed and shelves, their familiar presence a stark contrast to the awkward vulnerability you suddenly felt as Hamzah stepped in behind you.

It wasn’t just a room—it was you. And now Hamzah was seeing it all.

When you gestured to your bed, his shoulders seemed to relax slightly as his eyes swept over its size.

“You’ll definitely fit,” you said, smoothing out a pillow on the right side, your voice as casual as you could manage. You turned back around, planting your hands on your hips in what you hoped was a calm, composed stance, even though your heartbeat betrayed you.

Hamzah’s brow furrowed slightly, his uncertainty lingering. His hesitation made you question, for a fleeting moment, whether this was a good idea after all.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice dipping into something almost apologetic. “I hope you didn’t feel pressured to do this.”

He nervously laughed and rubbed his forehead, his hand acting as a flimsy barrier to hide his face.

You shook your head quickly, a nervous smile tugging at your lips as you fussed with the pillow again, needing something to do with your hands. “No, it’s fine. Really.”

Your words felt like a promise, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was to you or to the man standing behind you.

12 a.m., and you found yourself locked in the bathroom.

This time, it was your bathroom, and you’d just hurriedly thrown on your pajamas—a matching two-piece set covered in cartoony giraffes.

You hadn’t even thought about it, grabbing the closest thing in your closet in sheer panic with Hamzah right behind you.

At least they weren’t terrible. The silky blue fabric felt soft against your skin, the button-up top and flowy pants giving off a cozy vibe—if not for the overly playful giraffes printed all over them.

After brushing your teeth and rushing through a quick skincare routine, you stared at yourself in the mirror, debating whether to step out.

You checked your reflection for the hundredth time: hair down, plain white socks on, and an expression that couldn’t decide between mortified or amused.

Finally, you took a deep breath and cracked the door open.

The hallway was silent. Too silent. Hamzah was nowhere in sight, and for a moment, you wondered if he’d just left entirely. The thought made your stomach twist, though you weren’t sure if it was relief or disappointment.

You stepped cautiously out of the bathroom, padding your way to the bedroom.

There he was.

Hamzah sat on the edge of your bed, scratching Marie’s back as she purred loudly, her tail flicking happily in the air. He was grinning, clearly amused by her reaction, but quickly turned his head away when she stuck her butt a little too close to his face.

You stifled a laugh, though your flustered smile gave you away. Hamzah glanced up at you then, his hand pausing mid-pet as his gaze lingered for a second before darting away.

Marie wasn’t having the sudden lack of attention and promptly threw herself against his hand with an indignant meow.

The scene was so unexpectedly wholesome that your nerves began to settle. You found yourself smiling at him, heart still fluttering but in a softer, calmer way.

Hamzah returned the smile, shy but warm, before redirecting his attention back to the demanding cat.

Neither of you said a word. You didn’t need to.

Quietly, you made your way to the other side of the bed and sat down, the comfort of the moment washing over you like a soft winter blanket.

You had braced yourself for the awkwardness of having Hamzah right beside you in bed, but to your surprise, it wasn’t as overwhelming as you’d imagined.

Whether it was Marie acting as the perfect buffer or Hamzah’s calm demeanor grounding you, the tension had started to fade.

Lying flat on your bed, you distracted yourself by scrolling on your phone until Hamzah eventually got up. You heard his soft footsteps making their way to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Naturally, Marie trailed behind him, her little paws padding noisily on the floor.

A moment later, his voice echoed from the bathroom.

“Excuse me, Miss. I’m trying to pee. This is very inappropriate behavior.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at the absurdity. Muffled sounds of Hamzah’s one-sided conversation with Marie followed, mixed with occasional outbursts as she presumably knocked over items or tried to dismantle the toilet paper roll.

When he finally returned, Hamzah looked worn out but amused, Marie trotting triumphantly behind him and hopping onto the bed.

“I think she likes me.” he said with a playful grin, his hand already reaching out to pet her fluffy fur.

“Definitely. She only ever follows me to the bathroom.” you replied with a teasing pout, extending your hand for Marie, who gladly rubbed against it.

By now, you had settled in comfortably—your body tucked under the covers, head resting on your pillow, with the lights dimmed just enough to feel cozy.

You and Hamzah laughed together as Marie basked in the attention, purring like a little diva. The whole situation felt so ridiculous yet strangely comforting, like your usual nights alone.

Eventually, Hamzah turned to you, his expression softening as he slid under the covers on his side of the bed.

“Hey, uh… I’m not a snorer,” he said, his voice dipping into a mock-serious tone. “But if you feel a kick or two during the night, just know it’s not Marie.”

You giggled, watching as his tall frame settled into your girly bed, his feet rubbing together under the sheets as he got comfortable.

He looked so peaceful as he closed his eyes, his usual energy dimmed but still radiating a quiet warmth.

For a moment, you just watched him, feeling a strange mix of contentment and disbelief at how unexpectedly sweet this night had turned out.

You turned your back to him, not wanting to risk him waking up and catching you staring at him like some kind of creep.

Still, his presence lingered, impossible to ignore—the subtle sound of his steady breathing, the faint warmth radiating from his body. It wrapped around you in a way that felt oddly reassuring, like the winter chill had no chance of seeping in as long as he was there.

You wouldn’t deny it: having someone else in your bed was… nice. The loneliness you often felt in the quiet hours of the night was dulled, replaced by a sense of safety.

Like if something as absurd as a burglar barging in were to happen, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, willing yourself to focus on your exhaustion; The heaviness in your limbs, the pull of sleep beckoning you.

You let the comfort of the moment settle over you, hoping it would be enough to carry you into dreams.

But Hamzah shifted behind you, the bed creaking softly as he adjusted his position.

“Hey, uh…” His voice was quiet, hesitant, almost like he wasn’t sure if you were still awake.

You opened your eyes but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

There was a pause, long enough that you almost thought he’d decided against speaking.

“You know, I was nervous about this too.”

That made you turn your head slightly, though you still didn’t face him fully.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Well, to be honest with you,” he admitted, “I wasn’t enjoying that party at all. Not a big fan of them on general.”

You felt your heart soften at his honesty. “Me neither,” you admitted. “But… when you and Martin showed up, I felt better. It was nice, you know? Having you around.”

The words came out easier than you expected, like butter melting over warm toast. “You two made my day better.” you added, your voice quiet but steady.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way his eyes widened slightly, surprised.

Turning toward him, you let a smile break across your face. His expression was unreadable at first, somewhere between disbelief and something softer, warmer.

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking a little bit.

You nodded, your smile growing playfully. “Really.”

His own smile slowly followed, hesitant at first, then genuine and sincere.

“That’s nice to hear,” he said. “I’m glad.”

Hamzah shifted slightly, resting back against the pillows, his head tilted toward you while a finger played with one of his many curls on his head.

“It was nice to be around you too.” he said now with a serious face, still looking into your eyes. “You’re caring… you know? You didn’t hesitate to let me sleep at your house.”

Hamzah looked down, his eyes darting quickly like he was trying to find the words to say.

“So… yeah, thank you.” He seemed to not find the words he was looking for so he resorted to thanking you, his face still serious.

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but you didn’t look away this time.

Instead, you let the comfortable quiet settle again, a shared understanding between the two of you.

After a moment Hamzah stretched his arms slightly before settling under the covers again. “Well, I guess I shall try not to kick you off the bed tonight.” he joked, his tone light but tinged with sleepiness.

You chuckled, tucking yourself back into your spot. “Yeah, try to keep the kicking to a minimum.”

As his eyes closed, his breathing evened out, and the room fell into a peaceful stillness.

You found yourself smiling faintly as you turned back over, his earlier words replaying in your mind.

You closed your eyes again, his presence no longer just reassuring but comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

As sleep began to pull you under, you realized it wasn’t just having someone in your bed that made you feel less alone—it was having him.

You were jolted awake by a voice echoing from the hallway. It was unmistakable—Hamzah’s.

“I know you’re hungry… Girl, let me walk—“ Hamzah was stumbling down the hallway, his steps unsteady, while Marie swirled around his legs, brushing against him and meowing insistently.

As soon as he caught sight of you from the doorway, he froze. There he was, standing with his pants halfway down, boxers peeking out.

You stifled a laugh and got up to feed your cat.

“D’you want something to eat?” you asked, opening the pantry. You stared inside, and your heart sank at the sad sight: a couple of snack bars, cereal, some pasta, and a few other non-breakfast items.

“…Cereal?” you muttered, holding up a box of Cheerios.

Hamzah giggled, clearly amused by the poor selection. “Sure.”

You both dug into the Honey Nut Cheerios, with Hamzah finishing his bowl so quickly that you barely had time to pour milk into yours.

“I don’t waste any food,” he said matter-of-factly before grabbing your bowl and drinking the milk you’d left behind.

After breakfast, you both wandered over to the window, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape. The storm had calmed, though it had raged fiercely through the night, waking you several times—though you suspected part of it was because Hamzah’s legs kept kicking yours in his sleep.

You both stepped outside, the thick layer of snow crunching underfoot, sinking up to your ankles.

“Damn—do you have a shovel?” Hamzah asked, stomping through the snow. His footprints left an oddly funny trail behind him.

“A shovel?” you replied, fully aware that you had never owned a tool in your life. “No. Why?”

“The driveway’s coated,” he said, hands on his hips, adopting the stance of an overly concerned dad eyeing the driveway.

He turned to look at you, as if expecting you to pull out a shovel from thin air.

Without thinking, you scooped up a handful of snow, shaped it into a snowball, and tossed it aside. You heard Hamzah chuckle, but you ignored it, focused on the your work.

After a while of Hamzah making fun of you, he joined.

He started scooping up snow with both arms, grunting as he tossed it aside with exaggerated effort.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him working so hard at something so simple.

But the moment he noticed you laughing, he froze, then crouched down and balled up a small chunk of snow in his hand.

“You’re really laughing at me while this—” he held up the snowball, his voice teasing. “Is what you’re picking up?”

You shot him a glare, your brows furrowed in mock anger.

Before you could respond, he threw the snowball at you, hitting your chest with a satisfying thump.

Your expression hardened, shifting into a competitive glare. The two of you stood there, like two cowboys facing off in an old Western, ready to duel in the cold.

You crouched down, preparing your own snowball, and Hamzah mirrored you, his eyes fixed on your every move as he shaped another one. You knew he was waiting for you to make the first move.

But you weren’t stupid. Instead of lobbing your snowball at him immediately, you threw it high into the air.

Hamzah flinched, eyes tracking the trajectory of the flying snowball, and as soon as he looked away, you ducked behind a nearby bush, darting out of sight.

You could hear him muttering to himself, frustrated but amused, as he searched the snow for you.

Then, the moment was yours.

You grabbed a fresh handful of snow, quickly forming it into a tight ball, and sprinted out from behind the bush, aiming straight for his back.

It hit him square between the shoulders. He spun around, wide-eyed, a mix of surprise and laughter crossing his face.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” he said, his voice full of mock disbelief.

Before you could react, Hamzah lunged toward you, his grin widening as he scooped up more snow. His hands moved quickly, shaping the snow into another ball with surprising speed.

You barely had time to scramble backward, laughing, as he threw the snowball at you, this one landing just short of your feet.

“Come on, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” you teased, trying to keep your distance.

But Hamzah wasn’t about to let up. He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You started it.” he said, and before you knew it, he was charging at you.

You turned to run, but the deep snow made it hard to move fast. You glanced over your shoulder to see him getting closer, a wicked grin forming as he prepared for another throw.

He stopped, stunned for a moment, wiping the snow from his face. “Oh, hell no.” he muttered, shaking his head with mock annoyance.

With a sudden burst of energy, he charged again, and this time, you weren’t fast enough to dodge. He tackled you into the snow, laughing as he pinned you down for a second.

“You really think you can out-snowball me?” he asked, his cold breath forming a cloud in front of your face.

You squirmed beneath him, laughing, feeling the cold of the snow soaking through your clothes. “I think I’m winning, actually.” you shot back, trying to push him off, but only succeeding in making him laugh harder.

“Sure you are.” Hamzah said, his voice filled with amusement. He finally let you go, both of you lying in the snow, gasping for air. The cold was biting, but neither of you seemed to care.

There was a long, quiet moment between you two, both of you staring at the sky, the weight of the playful tension still lingering in the air.

Hamzah shifted slightly, his gaze turning to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart beating a little faster.

His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Without thinking, your gaze dropped to his lips as well, your body seeming to react before your mind could catch up.

Hamzah’s hand reached out, brushing away lingering snow off your face, his touch gentle.

His face was inches from yours now, and the air between you seemed charged with something you both hadn’t addressed until now.

“Yeah.” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I definitely won.”

And then, without another word, his lips were on yours. It was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters, but as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, both of you leaning into it.

The snow around you, the cold, the world; everything faded into the background.

His gloved hand rested gently on your cheek, the soft texture of the fabric brushing against your skin, sending a comforting feeling.

His mouth was warm, his tongue exploring yours softly, but there was a neediness to it now, an intensity that seemed to pull you deeper into the moment.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers curling gently behind your ear, as if pulling you closer, wanting more, as if the cold snow and everything around you didn’t matter anymore.

You responded without thinking, your own hand moving to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your palm.

The cold of the snow didn’t matter now, the chill replaced by the heat building between you.

Hamzah’s grip tightened slightly, not painful, but firm enough to remind you that he was there, grounded and real. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, but also like he was afraid of letting you go.

You could feel the same tension building in him, the way his body leaned into yours as if he didn’t want an inch of space between you.

When he pulled away slightly, breathless, his forehead rested against yours again, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment, his lips barely grazing yours with each breath.

His eyes were wide and locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze driving you crazy.

There was something raw in his expression, a neediness that was almost magnetic.

You couldn’t resist it. The way he looked at you stirred something deep inside, an urge to make him yours.

Slowly, you reached up, your fingers brushing against his chin, the softness of your touch contrasting with the intensity of the moment.

Your finger traced the curve of his jaw before gently sliding over his bottom lip, feeling the warmth of his lips, the slight tremble beneath your touch.

His breath hitched at the contact, his lips parting slightly as if he were waiting for you to make the next move.

You could feel his gaze still on you, searching for something, and without thinking, you leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s go inside.”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: a little festive mat fic! written fairly quickly and minimally edited, but i wanted to get something out for the holiday! not too much more to say except i hope you guys all have a wonderful holiday and i’ll be quiet for the rest of the year, writing and stockpiling fics lol

word count: 4.8k

tw: a little innuendo, nothing crazy

summary: after spending the day hanging out with the team, you have some news for mat

“The snow was a nice touch,” you grin at Holly Horvat. A light dusting of snow is falling outside, the grass in the Horvats’ backyard already white.

Holly laughs, “oh, you know me. I have a connect to make sure even the weather is perfect for our events.” She pours M&Ms into a few small ramekins that are going to be placed around the kitchen island and dining room table where the kids will be decorating gingerbread houses.

The house is bustling with people and noise and you can’t help but love it. You miss having huge family gatherings, ever since your parents moved off Long Island and down south. The rest of your family is scattered to the winds, so it’s nice to be folded into the big team family get togethers. Joining a group of women who love any excuse to throw a party has been one of the biggest benefits from your relationship with Mat.

Half a dozen kids run past you - you spot the Bailey boys and Brock’s two oldest kids in the group as they blur by - holding jackets and their sneakers. “Mini sticks is getting moved outside,” Noah grins as he breezes past you, swiping a handful of M&Ms from the little bowl.

“Stay warm,” you tease, watching him follow the kids out the back door. A parade of adult men follow him - Wahlly, Casey, Josh, Brock, and finally Mat, who stops to give your waist a little squeeze.

“Kiss for luck?” He asks, puckering his lips at you in a dramatic duck face. You giggle and plant one on him, pulling back before he can slip his tongue past your lips.

Mat leans slightly against you, his face a little flushed already from the twenty minutes of mini sticks that’s been going on in the basement. “What do you need luck for?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Jacky’s got a wicked wrister,” Mat grins, referring to Casey’s oldest, “and no idea how to aim. Do you know how many pucks to the head I’ve dodged?”

A snort of laughter makes Mat’s lips turn down in a frown. “Oh, I guess you just don’t care about my health,” he sighs dramatically, pulling away from your side. “It’s fine. I’ll take a slap shot to the head and then you’ll see how much you miss my charming personality.”

“Dramatics,” you murmur affectionately, hooking your fingers in his belt loops. “He’s five and you guys use a Nerf ball. I think you’ll live.”

“Maaaat!” Jack comes barreling through the room and crashes into your fiancé’s legs. “C’mon! Everybody’s outside.” The little boy looks adorable in his puffer coat, a little beanie pulled haphazardly over his blonde hair. He wrinkles his face up at Mat in an impatient frown and you can’t help but egg him on.

“Yeah, Mat,” you prod him in the side, looking innocent, “everyone’s outside already.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but grins down at Jack and swoops him into his arms, making Jack shriek with laughter. You prop your chin in the palm of your hand and watch Mat tickle Jack’s belly while he carries him outside. Jack’s little sneakered feet are kicking in the air, narrowly avoiding Mat’s head.

“He’s really good with the kids,” Kristy Cizikas comments, coming into the kitchen with baby Cole propped on her hip.

You scrunch up your face at Cole to make him laugh, “it’s because he’s a big kid himself, right Coley? Huh? Is Matty a big kid?” You giggle at your own baby talk and warmth blooms in your chest when you’re rewarded with a gummy baby smile. “Ooh, you make cute babies,” you tell Kristy.

She shakes her head affectionately, “I swear, they’re all Casey. It’s like my genes didn’t even try.”

“Hey, in like six months you and Mat can start catching up to the rest of us,” Sydney Martin teases, easily passing Alice to you when you reach out for the one-year-old. Alice immediately grabs a chunk of your hair and you wince, untangling chubby fingers from the strands.

You hum noncommittally as you work. “We’ll see what happens,” you shrug. “Might be nice to just be the two of us for a bit.”

“But don’t you want that all the time?” Syd laughs, gesturing to you now that Alice’s fingers are hooked in your mouth. You pretend to nibble on them, making her shriek with laughter. She finishes helping Holly set out the candy, knowing the rest of the kids will start wandering their way into the kitchen.

“One day, definitely,” you nod, settling Alice more securely on your lap, one arm looped around her stomach. The little girl slaps her palms happily on the countertop and you giggle, resting your chin on her head. “No rush though.”

As you settle at the table with the kids, the other guys trail in and out of the backyard, the noise of mini sticks floating inside.

You get to be in charge of Alice during decorating, sitting in between Syd with Winnie and Ashlee with Luca while the kids decorate their pre-made houses. You squirt a line of frosting onto the roof and Alice uses her little pincer grip to place M&Ms on the line. “Oh, good job,” you tell her in a bright, encouraging voice. She rewards you with a half melted piece of candy smushed against your cheek.

“Mommy,” Winnie’s little voice pipes up, “Ali’s makin’ a mess.”

“So are you, Win,” Sydney laughs, wiping up a smudge of frosting off of Winnie’s sweater. “Everyone is going to make a little bit of a mess and that’s okay.”

From your spot at the island, you can see right out the back door and you watch the mini sticks tournament that’s happening. Kids versus adults and honestly, it looks like the adults are having a rough go of it. Mat’s on the ground, a pile of children fighting him. Whally has Cal’s oldest on his shoulders and you honestly wonder how that ended up happening. Sticks have been discarded and the Nerf pucks are strewn around. You watch Casey pull Jack out of the pile on top of Mat, his little arms and legs kicking. From the ground, Mat jokingly sticks his tongue out at Jack and you shake your head. Of course he has beef with a five-year-old.

Bo and Gunnar join the fun outside and Mat slaps the little boy’s hand in a high-five. Your stomach swoops a little. It’s always such a turn-on when Mat interacts with kids, but it’s a little different now.

Alice pats your hand and grumbles a little. “Whoops, sorry, Al,” you squeeze more frosting onto the house for her to decorate.

“Distracted?” Ashlee asks, pulling Luca’s frosting covered hand away from his hair. She wipes his fingers off with a napkin and gives him a pretzel to stick onto his little house. She pops another pretzel into her own mouth.

You hum. “Just making sure he’s not being totally steamrolled by a pack of kids,” you laugh lightly. While Alice works on the roof of her house, you put a few Starburts in place to act as a little pathway going to the door.

In the backyard, Mat stands up, Mack and Wyatt Bailey hanging from each arm. He shakes them gently and you can see both boys’ heads fall back with wild laughter. Meg looks up from where she’s helping Blake with a pattern of Smarties on her roof. “Honestly, if he wasn’t busy with, you know, his actual job,” she laughs, “I’d hire him as a babysitter. The kids loved when he lived with us.”

The entire kitchen of women laugh when the back door slides open and Mat steps back inside, shaking melted snow from his short hair. He stops and looks up, scanning the room full of laughing women. “What?” He asks, eyebrows drawn together. “I interrupt something? Want me to leave so you ladies can keep talking about me?” He laughs brightly, flashing his teeth.

“You can stay,” you offer generously, tilting your head up as he passes for a kiss. Mat’s hand is freezing when it cups your jaw and you flinch a little. He mumbles a ‘sorry’ against your lips before kissing them. When he pulls away, to a soundtrack of ‘awww’s from the women and a joking ‘get a room’ from Sydney, you continue, “but you have to take orders from toddlers, if you do.”

“Like I’m not already doing that,” he laughs, swiping a thumb over your cheekbone and sucking it into his mouth. “Frosting,” he explains, smirking. Your cheeks flush.

Winnie stands up on her chair and leans into you, poking at your cheek with her fingers. “Red, I wanna be red!” She bounces a little and looks over at Mat who scrunches up his whole face at her and tickles her sides, making her shriek with laughter and flop back into Sydney’s arms.

Sydney laughs and tickles Winnie’s side, “girlfriend, you’re collecting boyfriends around here like they’re Pokémon cards.”

Satisfied by the chaos he caused, Mat backs into the hallway, explaining, “I was sent to get more jackets and gloves and sh-stuff,” he course-corrects before letting the curse slip. “It’s freezing out there.”

He’s gone, rummaging through the massive hall closet, before reappearing wearing his own coat and holding an armful of the other guys’ outerwear.

“Who’s winning?” Holly teases, while you all watch Mat struggle to pull a beanie on without dropping anything. He fails spectacularly and gives up when he realizes that everything’s slowly falling to the floor.

Mat scoffs. “The kids, obviously. They’re unhinged,” he grins widely and you can tell he’s having a blast. There’s a chorus of his name being shouted from outside and Mat scoops up the dropped outerwear before dashing off to rejoin the fun.

Sydney leans in and nudges your side gently. “He’s going to be a great dad,” she whispers, smiling knowingly.

You chew at the inside of your cheek and manage a barely convincing smile. “One day, definitely,” you reply, holding an Oreo for Alice to chew at.

She shoots you a little side eyed look and you studiously ignore her, focusing on telling Reese Cizikas how great her house looks. Things start to get messy - well, messier - after a while and the kids get antsy until they’re turned loose from the table to run off around the house. While you clean up the candy, the guys come back inside with the older kids and you can’t help but laugh at how the three youngest men, including your fiancé, have kids hanging off of them.

“If you kids let go of the guys,” Holly says warmly, “I’ll pass around some hot chocolate.”

It’s a mad scramble for the kids to abandon Mat, Noah, and Oliver - and they actually look mildly offended when the kids just toss their jackets back at them in their dash for hot chocolate. You take some of the gear from Mat and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, “don’t look so sad, you can have another play date with your friends soon.”

“Menace,” Mat grins, reaching around to pinch at your ass.

“I’ll text Kristy,” you giggle, continuing the joke, “Jack can come over and beat you at mini sticks again.”

“I’m gonna toss your phone into the ocean,” Mat deadpans.

You lower your voice and lean closer to him to whisper, “how will I send all those pictures you like?”

“You can keep the phone,” Mat replies immediately and you laugh, tugging at the open edges of his jacket. He pulls you close and you wrap one arm around his waist, his body warm even though his hands and face are cold. You bury your face in his chest and stifle a yawn. Mat’s hand is warming your back where he rubs it up and down your spine. “Still feeling gross after that bug?”

“Not gross,” you tilt your head to look up at him, still cuddled against his chest, “just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“We can head home, if you want,” Mat offers, but you shake your head again. You like it when the whole group is together and you want to keep enjoying the time with your friends.

You pull back slightly from Mat’s arms, his hands still resting on your back. “I just need a little bit of sugar and I’ll be good to go,” you smile at him. His eyes twinkle before he leans down and plants a smacking, dramatic kiss on your lips.

“Good to go?” He teases when he pulls back.

“Not that kind of sugar,” you giggle, delighted by him always.

“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Ashlee says, breaking into the Mat Barzal bubble that you’ve been enveloped in for the last few minutes. You startle a little and some of the other wives laugh.

“Oh god, she forgot we’re even here,” Sydney shakes her head, an exaggerated frown on her lips.

Meg smirks, “thank god we interrupted them before it went too far.”

Your cheeks are warm from the teasing and Mat just turns on the charm, grinning widely at his teammates’ wives. “It’s all part of the Barzal charm,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“What charm?” Bo chirps, coming into the kitchen with Tulsa on his hip. “All you’re good at is league mandated iPad time.”

“Don’t forget all the time he spends sitting on his ass on the ice,” Noah grins wickedly.

“Tell us,” Casey asks you, “is it part of his charm when he messes up common sayings?”

You giggle, sucking your lips into your mouth when Mat glares down at you.

“You guys suck,” Mat flips them off, immediately apologizing when he realizes some of the kids are still in the room. “Sorry, Holly, Meg.”

They waive off his apologies, sending him into the den with a tray of snacks for the kids. They’re watching a movie, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer if the familiar music is to be believed, and you know half the dads are also in the den, napping on the couches. Mat disappears for a while too and you leave him to the movie, knowing he’s exhausted. You get to hang out with the girls for a few more hours, interspersed with hugs and drawings from Gunnar and Winnie, before the party starts to break up.

Everyone’s gone slowly and then all at once, and you and Mat are walking the three blocks towards your house. He bumps your hip with his as you walk, his fingers laced with yours. “You coming to the game tomorrow?” He asks, getting a sense of what the week ahead will look like.

“Mhm,” you hum, “I’m going to go with Syd, so I’m not sure if I’ll end up staying the whole game. So make sure you do all the good stuff in the first.”

Mat bumps your hip again and you laugh, the sound echoing in the cold air. “I save all my best stuff for you,” he retorts, unlocking the front door and letting you step inside before him. He winks at you, his entire face scrunching up in his terrible attempt.

You scoff at him and flip the switches to turn on the Christmas lights, bathing the whole house in the warm glow of multi-colored string lights. You sigh happily, loving the over the top decorations you’d insisted on and the way the entire house smells like pine and cinnamon from diffusers and candles left open but unlit. Mat crowds your space and kisses the back of your neck.

“Couch time?” He mumbles against your skin.

“Couch time,” you agree, muffling another yawn.

You race to the bedroom, changing out of your clothes as quick as possible to get into comfy sweats and sweatshirts. Mat tosses a pillow at your face to distract you, but you swat it out of the air, nearly getting your foot stuck in the leg of your sweats.

“You like when I’m a weighted blanket,” Mat says, voice muffled by the sweatshirt he’s pulling over his head. “Why are you racing me to be on top?”

You don’t waste time pulling on your sweatshirt in the room and instead dart back out to the hallway and skip down the stairs, flopping onto the couch in just your sweats, completely topless. Mat’s hot on your heels and grumbles when he sees you yanking the fabric over your head. Smugly, you reply, “I don’t wanna be squished today. I want to use you as a body pillow.”

He submits to his fate and flops down onto the couch, oversized enough that the two of you could lay side by side and be comfortable, and opens his arms for you to crawl onto his chest. The both of you love the soft pressure of the other person laying on top of them so you’ve had to come up with a contest over the course of your relationship - first person on the couch gets to be on top. More often than not, you end up sprawled over Mat since it’s an easy way to transition into couch sex.

Now, you’re so tired you definitely will be keeping all of your clothes on. But you hum happily when you settle on top of him, your knees tucked nicely against either side of his hips, straddling his lap. When you curl up against his chest, your lower back stretches pleasantly and you wiggle a little, wrapping your arms around his torso and tucking your head under his chin. Mat’s arms wrap around you, one hand covering the back of your head so his fingertips can stroke against the shell of your ear.

He pulls the decorative blanket off the back of the couch with his other hand and arranges it over your bodies, making sure his feet stick out on the end so he doesn’t overheat. “You good?” He asks, his jaw bumping against the top of your head when he speaks. You nod against him and close your eyes, settling into his warmth. Mat turns on the TV, flipping it to ESPN before letting his hand rest low on the curve of your back, fingers grazing the top of your ass.

Mat’s heart beats steadily under your cheek and his hand is warm where it rests on your head. Couch time is exactly what you needed today. Your eyelids flutter shut every so often and you must fall asleep for a little nap because the next thing you know, it’s darker outside and Mat is running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Hey,” he whispers and you lift your head to look at him blearily, momentarily confused.

“Hi,” you mumble sleepily, brushing your nose against his chin. “What time’s it?”

“Just after 4:30,” he replies and now the TV’s playing a rerun of The Office. He chuckles at a joke and rubs his fingertips against your scalp in a little massage. “You’ve been out for like forty-five minutes and I would’ve let you sleep, but I’m starving.”

Your heart skips a beat and you’re fully awake now. “Oh, same,” you say casually, rolling off of Mat and tucking yourself against his side. “I actually would love a piece of that gingerbread house that I ordered.”

“Gingerbread house?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “When’d you get that?”

“It was delivered the other day,” you explain. “I wanted something cute for our first engaged Christmas.”

Mat sits up, taking you with him and you wiggle around so you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him. “I totally forgot to show it to you,” you shrug, proud of yourself for being so normal. “But why don’t you go take a look and bring me back a piece?”

“Yeah, okay,” Mat shrugs, scratching your scalp once before getting up. “Dessert before dinner usually means eating you out, but gingerbread is cool too.”

He says it so casually that you don’t really process what he says until he’s already in the kitchen. You bounce up on your knees to look at him over the back of the couch, yelping his name when it finally sinks in. He’s laughing as he pulls the new box down from where it’s been sitting on top of the fridge. “Took you long enough,” he laughs, popping the top of the white cardboard. “That nap really must’ve taken it out of you.”

You scowl at him but don’t reply, anxiously waiting to see his reaction to the gingerbread house. He pulls it out of the box and his lips quirk up in a little smile. “It’s cute,” he says, looking at the house, professionally decorated. “Way better than the ones the kids made today.”

A laugh works its way out of your mouth as he studies it, taking in the details. “Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than anything else, “three people. Must’ve read your order wrong, Squeaks.”

“Oh?” You breathe. “There were supposed to be me and you…” You trail off.

“Yeah, they’re here,” Mat reads the little names iced onto the gingerbread people. “There’s you and Mat and…” he falters, squinting at the third figure, bringing it closer to his face, “Baby B?”

He looks over at you, forehead creased and eyebrows drawn together over his nose. “Baby B?” He repeats the question and you smile carefully at him, hand sliding across the back of the couch so your fingertips rest on your stomach.

“Baby B,” you confirm shakily. Tears well at your lower lash line and you watch Mat for his reaction.

He blinks at you, eyes darting between your face, your stomach, and the gingerbread figure held in his hand. “Wait? Seriously?” He sounds dazed and you can’t blame him. You were freaked out when you took the test a week and a half ago. It’s been the hardest secret you’ve ever had to keep. “You’re…there’s a baby?” His eyes are wide and his jaw hangs open a little.

You nod. “It’s, um, been hanging out for like six-ish, seven weeks,” you whisper, flattening your hand over your stomach. Mat’s eyes track your movement and he exhales a shaky breath.

Mat breathes your name and crosses the room in a few large strides. He cups your cheeks in his hands and studies your face, wiping at the tears that drip from your eyes. “Hey, c’mon, why’re you crying?” He asks, panic edging his tone.

“I know it’s earlier than we planned,” you shrug, “I’m going to be insanely pregnant at the wedding. We won’t get to be, like, newlyweds at all and the honeymoon’s going to have to change or be cancelled altogether.” You ramble on, all of your stress releasing in run-on sentences. You already love the baby, but getting pregnant before the wedding definitely wasn’t the plan.

Mat chuckles a little and you realize it sounds a little watery, like he’s trying to hold back his own emotion. “We’ll figure it out,” he says gently, squatting down so he’s closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Yeah,” you confirm again. “Are you freaking out? Because I’m freaking out.”

“I’m definitely freaking out,” Mat confirms on a hysterical little laugh. His fingers tremble a little against your cheeks. “But it’s a good thing, right? Like, we’re gonna make the coolest babies.”

You nod. “They’re going to have amazing hair,” you giggle wetly.

Mat leans forward to kiss you softly, tasting the tears on your lips. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, quietly breathing with you. “That, uh, wasn’t a stomach bug last week, was it?”

“No,” you shake your head against his. “I’ve had some pretty aggressive mid-morning sickness this past week.”

“How the hell did I miss that?” He asks and it’s mostly rhetorical because Mat is not the most observant of men on a good day, let alone during a week and a half period where they’re playing a game every other day.

You lean back and tap at your stomach with your fingers, “baby’s already pretty good about not inconveniencing you. It was bad after you’d already left for practice.”

“I kind of can’t believe our baby’s in there,” Mat says, looking down at your stomach. His hands fall to the back of the couch and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t.

“Me either,” you admit. “And I’ve had a week to get used to the idea.”

“Shit, Squeaks,” he shakes his head again, a little smile playing on his lips, “a baby. We’re gonna be in charge of a real baby.”

Your answering laugh is a little hysterical. You’re obviously not the first of your friends to have a baby, but it feels insane that you’re here, especially before the wedding. Your parents are going to be so annoyed. “Good thing we have friends who know what they’re doing,” you murmur, covering Mat’s hands with yours and lacing your fingers together. You look at your joined fingers and your heart lurches in your chest. Quietly, you ask him, “we’re going to be good at this, right?”

“Hell if I know,” Mat admits. You frown at him - that was less than reassuring, but at least he’s honest. He jolts a little, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline, and you cock your head at him in a silent question. “I realized,” he says, a little sheepishly, “that I never said I was happy about this, but I am. I’m excited, scared as shit, but excited.”

“Me too,” you let loose a relieved laugh. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear Mat say he was happy about the baby. It’s been a weight on your shoulders ever since that positive pink line appeared on the test. “Um, there is one thing you could do for me right now though.”

Mat perks up and nods, “yeah, whatever you need, babe. You’re going to be so sick of me and how attentive I’ll be.”

You have no doubt about that, but for now - “can you get me a piece of that gingerbread? I’ve been craving it since the stupid thing was delivered yesterday.”

Mat laughs and stands up to retrieve the cookie, much to your delight. It’s been taunting you for more than twenty-four hours now and you nibble at the gingerbread version of yourself happily. Mat flops down onto the couch next to you and you tuck yourself up against his side. His hand absently runs up and down your arm, his eyes focused in the direction of the TV, but not actually paying attention.

You’re quiet at his side, knowing he needs to process the news. You were lucky in that you were alone when you found out so you could freak out without Mat seeing just how scared you were. Now that it’s been a week of knowing and Mat’s reaction wasn’t a total meltdown, you can relax a little, even start to get excited about having a little summer baby. Mat will get to spend time with you and the baby since you’re due in late August, by your admittedly shaky math.

Subconsciously, Mat’s hand wanders down your side, splaying on your waist, fingers stretching to cover part of your stomach. He rubs his thumb against your ribs and a little huff of disbelief leaves his throat. “Too bad you’re not due before the wedding,” he says, looking down at you with a little smile, “she could’ve been in the wedding, like Gracie at Bearsy’s wedding.”

Your throat clogs with emotion, thinking of your baby being at the wedding, and you bury your face in Mat’s side so he can’t see how tears well up in your eyes again. “You can’t say cute shit like that to me right now,” you mumble, “my hormones are in overdrive.”

Mat pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling his thighs. He kisses the corner of your mouth and you sigh, resting your arms on his shoulders. “Let me know when I can start saying cute shit,” his grin is shit-eating, “because I just realized that there’s a chance we could put the baby in the Cup this summer.”

“Gotta win it first,” you counter, teasing him. He rolls his eyes and lets his hands drift over your stomach, broad palms covering the expanse of the still flat area.

“Got a new motivation now,” Mat replies and even though he still looks stunned, you can see how excited he’s getting about the baby.

You look down at where his hands cover your stomach and it’s all too easy to picture his hands holding a newborn baby with his eyes and your nose, a little shock of Mat’s dark hair on its head.

You can’t wait.

[grandlinedreams]

You! 🫵 You have an excellent way of weaving words, it leaves my heart in a kerfuffle! (no better way to describe it otherwise xD)

If your inbox isn’t already exploding, would you be up for a little fluff scenario with good ol‘ Law?

Trope: „Can we keep him? Pleeease?“ - Reader found a snow leopard baby . . 🥹 (If you know you know)

I let you channel your inner Law, I‘m curious how you‘d set the scene :3

Hope it ain’t too dull of a trope - thank you ~!

OUGH I'M HONORED 🥺 he really does just bounce around in my head like a lil dvd screensaver but also PLEASE that little baby 🥺🥺🥺

[Heads up!: fluff, Law is a sucker for puppy dog eyes we all know, Bepo is an accomplice]

It's cold.

Dangerously so, the wind making it difficult to keep on your course ㅡ how you're supposed to see anything in the vast tundra of blinding white is beyond you, but you press on.

You have to.

You tug at the fur-lined rim of your parka hood, trying to tug it over the rapidly numbed quality of your lips and nose. You'll be fine, you know that ㅡ the others can't be far from here.

Longing for the warmth of indoors and needing to tell Law what you'd seen in your scout ahead (a whole lot of nothing, unfortunately), you hurry your pace, only to halt at a faint, muffled cry.

Was someone else out here? You still, eyes narrowing as you strain to hear above the whistle of wind.

It takes a minute to hear it again ㅡ raspy and high, like the cry of a child. Your heart sinks as you turn to search for the source. You know Law will scold you if he finds out, much less if it's a trap of some sort ㅡ but the likelyhood of an enemy is low, and you can't just leave a child out here to freeze.

It takes several minutes of searching and stopping to pinpoint the cry before you find the source, and you stare with wide eyes.

No way...

ㅡ

"Cocoa, Captain?"

Law looks over as Bepo places the mug of steaming hot chocolate down beside him, watching tiny marshmallows bob in it before his attention shifts back to the door of the little cabin they've commandeered as a base of sorts.

"[Name] should've been back by now." You'd gone out to scout ahead, take not of any potential enemy activity ㅡ but you've been gone for a while now. And though Law is concerned, he masks it with the rise of irritation.

As if summoned, there's the darkening of the window set into the front door and he tenses for a second before you step in, quick to shut the door behind you.

"[Name]!"

"Hey guys," you greet. "Sorry I'm late, I got a little sidetracked."

Your cheeks are flush with the contrast of cold to warm, as is the tip of your nose ㅡ but from what Law can see, you're unharmed. Good.

"Anything to report?" He asks and you glance over.

"Huh? No, no signs of enemy activity." There's something you aren't telling him, that much he can tell.

"Are you bleeding?" It's Shachi's question that snaps Law's attention back to your coat, spotting the smear of red that he'd missed on his first once-over.

"Oh," you say as Law stands, intending to assess whatever damage has been done, demand to know what actually happened ㅡ only to halt as you reach for the zipper of your parka. "No, it's this little guy's."

You tug the zipper down, and a rounded, fluffy head wiggles free. Wide, wet looking blue eyes blink at them before a mouth opens to reveal tiny, razor sharp teeth as the creature offers a raspy sounding mew.

"Is...that a snow leopard?"

Several eyes snap to Law for a moment, the familiar speckle of his cap ㅡ and then back to the cub you have cradled in your coat.

"He's been injured," you say as you shuck your coat entirely in favor of cradling the cub to you. It's far bigger than a kitten, but broad paws still curl against you. "I couldn't just leave him out there..."

"[Name]." Law's eyes narrow. "A word, please." He turns to retreat down the hall to one of the other rooms, listening to your footsteps in tow. He waits until you've shut the door behind you before he turns to you. "Explain."

"I scouted as far ahead as I could given the current environment and found nothing out of the ordinary. If there's really something going on here, it's higher up the mountain." Your tone is calm and cool, professional ㅡ and he sighs.

"I meant the cub, [name]."

Your expression crumples as you look down at the leopard cub, and Law notices the ragged cut in its side, fur wet with blood. "I couldn't just leave him out there, Law. He'd die."

"He's a wild animal, [Name]. It's the way nature works." He knows he sounds unnecessarily cruel ㅡ and there's the squeeze of his heart when you frown and cradle the cub tighter to you.

"That doesn't mean I have to let it happen." Your fingers curl into soft fur, stroking gently. "I know he's a wild animal, but I want to help. Can't we keep him? Just until he gets better?"

You look up at him, and Law tenses. There's a shine to your eyes ㅡ he's never seen you cry, and you're about to over a damn cat? No, he knows this tactic. He knows exactly what you're doing.

Damn Bepo for teaching you his weakness to puppy eyes.

His teeth grit, muscle in his brow twitching as you continue to stare, silently pleading. All you're missing is the jut of your lower lip, and he jerks his head, scowling.

"Fine. But he's your responsibility. Now stop looking at me like that, damn it!"

You smile, pleased as you adjust your hold on the leopard cub and step towards him, leaning to brush your lips against his cheek in a soft kiss. "You're cute when you're grumpy, Law."

And then you're gone, hurrying off to gather what you need to treat the cub and leaving Law to process the warmth of your lips on his cheek. "What a pain," he grumbles, but there's a faint upward quirk to his lips.

[j2d3]

Mr. Loverman | Jefferson/Mad hatter x reader | pt 3

Picture this since before the curse you and Jefferson have been best friends, your character is the chesiare cat but a witch version ( NOT A FURY 💀) . This is staged during season one during the time of the curse, your memory is erased but he still remembers you. ( Also Jefferson doesn’t have a daughter in this!!!)

There was something missing inside of me, I feel like a big part of me is missing. When I met that man it was like something changed, like he woke up a part of me.

I slip out of bed and put on a short black and gray striped dress, with black short sleeves, black ruffles in the end. I pair my dress with converse and black see through thigh highs, I feel so free dressing like this, it’s weird really but so comfortable.

I figured that the man seems to have the answers that I want so maybe I could get in contact with him, I know that Emma and Mary Margret may not like this idea but hey who says I’m telling them about it.

I walk out my home onto the sidewalks preparing for the long walk I’m about to take. What if he’s actually fucked up in the head? What if the minute he sees me he’ll shot me dead? No that won’t happen I know it, there’s something different about him than the rest of these people in this town.

I stand in front of the white big house, taking a big breath before walking to the door. I knock on the door two times, slowly but firmly.

“Hello Jefferson, are you home?!? I wanna talk to you! I’m sorry I hit you with a vase it slipped out of my hand, well it didn’t but I had to protect my friend. Look I promise my friends aren’t here, I’m completely alone.” I look down at my shoes nervously, what if he’s not home? I look up to knock again but as soon as I lift my fist to the door it opens.

I stand there frozen for a few seconds, looking at the man in front of me. To my surprise he doesn’t seem mad at all, he seems relieved, maybe a bit joyful.

“Hi..” Is all my mouth can manage to say, his eye contact is a bit intimidating in a way.

“Hi.” A smile escapes his mouth, along with a small chuckle. I don’t know why but I feel a little comforted right now, like I’ve been in this moment before.

“So you wanna talk? I suppose about what me and Emma were talking about, is that correct?”

“Yea, that’s correct.”

“Come in then.” He hands out his hand in a welcoming gesture, I stand there a bit scared. What if he tries to kidnap me again?

“I won’t do anything to you, I promise.” He leans into me, still holding out his hand. I take it, giving him a slight smirk. I walk in hand with his as he leads me to the couch, our hands separate when we sit down together.

“Believe it or not we were put under a curse, a curse by the evil queen. Snow White had given birth the same day the curse happened, Emma is that baby. She’s supposed to be a savior, she’s supposed to save us.” I process what was told to me, I feel like it would be kind of selfish of me to ask what character I was but I went ahead any way.

Time skip•

After some time talking with Jefferson I had figured out more. Regina is the Evil Queen, Emma is Snow White and Prince Charming’s daughter, and Jefferson’s hat teleports him to a lot of portals such as Wonderland, Oz, and another land I can’t quite remember.

“If we were all characters before the curse who was I? We’re you really the mad hatter?” I guess I really let curiously get the best of me, Iean more closer to him with curiosity as he reads me.

“You were….the chesiare cat, and I was the mad hatter.” I hold on to the thought that I was a cat, if the curse ends will I become a cat. What does that mean. I tilt my head in confusion, mouthing the word “huh”. He laughs at me in response, while I tilt my head back to normal.

“Chesiare cat? Does that mean I’m a cat? Well I turn into a cat when the curse ends? What does that mean?” Jefferson breaks into a fit of laughter for a few seconds, I suppose my curiosity amuses him.

“No actually you were a witch, a witch that could transform into a cat whenever she wanted, teleport wherever she wanted. You know you were quite powerful in a way…” Jefferson zones out as if he’s remembering something, theres something more he knows about he just is not saying it I know it.

“Oh, a witch that seems cool!”

“It is, you know if you want to know about your story you can ask Henry about. He has a storybook about all our lives before the curse, who we were.”

“Did you not know me that well before the curse? So you don’t know me that much?” I observe every emotion he displays on his face, as if I’m trying to catch a mouse but really I’m trying to catch the truth.

“Yea, I guess you could say that.” He turns his head to the fireplace in front of us. The empty, cold,withered fireplace. There it is, there is that slip of emotion. I don’t want to make assumptions but I have feeling we were close, or friends at least.

“Well ok, I guess I’ll make my way out, to ask Henry about my story.” I get up and walk towards the door, feeling his eyes burn through me.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Well yea, I got the answers I needed and now I’m looking for a new answer which you don’t have since we weren’t that close... Hope to talk to you soon!” I emphasize on the close part looking him in the eyes before smiling and leaving out the door. A part of me feels sorry for Jefferson, but I plan to help Jefferson get Emma to break the curse so we all can be saved.

Time skip •

I walk over to the Park Henry usually hangs out at, spotting the little boy and his big book of “stories”.

“Hi Henry, can I read my story in that book of yours if you don’t mind?” Henry looks up surprised, I think he was surprised that I would want to know my story.

“Well of course Chesiare cat! I’m glad you asked!” Henry opens up the book to page 33, “The Chesiare cat”

[mooodyblue]

OH MY GOODNESS!! I JUST HAD A THOUGHT!!!

Ok, so I just needed to send this to you before I forgot! (That doesn't mean you have to write it yet though, whenever your ready!!)

Ok, so you know how you wrote little!Elvis first snow day? You should totally do that with the littl!reader if you haven't already! Like OH MY THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE! "Y/n put your scarf back on don't make me count to 3!...no put your jacket back on right now before ya get sick! I already told ya don't make me tell ya again." Type of things, like OH MY THIS WOULD BE ADORABLE. "You a bit cold now darlin'? Well why don't we get ya warmed up inside with a fluffy blanket, and a hot chocolate huh?" type of stuff🥺🥺🥺

I love cg!Elvis it makes me so happy!

Just thought I'd share this little idea with you!!

💗

somehow this ended up with 1k words?? hope you enjoy 💞 thank you for the request!!

wc: 1k

a/n: def not proofread, sorry for the mistakes as i wrote this on my phone lol

masterlist

once you got with elvis, he had you moving straight to tennessee and into graceland. with this being your first winter with him, you hoped it'd snow considering it never snowed where you were from. you were probably annoying elvis with the way you'd ask if it was going to snow today, always getting hit with the “do i look like a weatherman?” answer. honestly? sometimes.

but when you asked on another day, preparing yourself for the same answer as always, elvis took a look out the window and hummed. “y’know what? i think it just might.”

you were glued to the window the whole morning, waiting patiently for the snow as elvis played on the piano softly in the background, occasionally glancing over at you and chuckling as your eyes never left the window. you were determined to see the first snowflake.

at some point, you didn't realize the music stopped and elvis appeared next to you with a warm mug of hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. “any snow yet, yittle?” he asked, taking a seat next to you.

the mug warmed your cold hands, sighing sadly. “no.” you muttered, taking a sip from the mug. “i don't think it's gonna snow, daddy.”

“hm, don't be so sure. i have a good feelin’” he grinned, wiping at the chocolate stache above your lips with his thumb. “silly.” he chuckled to himself.

as the day progressed, there was still nothing. elvis eventually caught you dozing off, helping you up to get you to the bedroom for a nap. he knew you'd be mad if you missed the first snowfall, but the snow on the ground you'd wake up to would make up for it.

the sound of your name being whisper-yelled woke you up, followed by a soft touch to your side. elvis brought a hand up to your face, pushing your hair aside, “baby, sorry to wake ya. but i think you should come take a look outside.”

you glanced up at him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “what is it?”

“c’mon, get up! come see for yourself.” he grinned.

slowly getting out of bed, you padded your way down the steps and followed elvis to the front window, gasping at the white sheets laying over the grass of graceland. it was the first time you’d ever seen anything like it and it was even more beautiful than expected. “daddy! it's snowing!” eager to go out into the cold, snow, you reached for the door handle only to be stopped by elvis.

“nuh-uh, not until you're dressed. it's cold outside.” he said sternly, pointing a finger at you.

“ugh, do i have to?” you whined, stomping your feet.

“do i have to?” elvis mocked, “yes, yittle. you have to. now c'mon, take your pretty self up the stairs.”

you let out a huff and stomped up the stairs with elvis following behind.

it was funny, really. he knew the moment you stepped outside without a coat, scarf or even gloves, you'd whine about how cold it is. but of course, the moment he attempts to bundle you up, you whine anyway. it was just one of your many quirks. he caught back a laugh as you scowled while elvis attempted to dress you, bundling you up extra warm due to the almost negative degrees outside. he finished it off with a scarf, wrapping it around your neck nicely. “now can i go outside?” you asked, a hint of annoyance to your voice.

“go downstairs and wait for daddy.” he nodded, gesturing to head out the door. he slipped on his own coat and scarf, less bundled up than you and headed down, watching as you began to take your gloves off. “nuh-uh, put ‘em back on. if ya wanna play in the snow, you gotta keep ‘em on or your hands will get all cold and frozen.”

“but why aren't you dressed like me?”

he sighed, “because i’m an adult and you're just a little one. little ones are more prone to get sick, now enough arguin’ , let's go out. it's dark out so be careful.” the moment he opened the door, you zoomed out into the cold air, throwing yourself on the ground and rolling around in the cold snow as elvis sat on the steps and watched.

you got up and ran around the lawn, shuffling your feet through the snow. elvis watched you happily, making sure you didn't attempt to take anything off that kept you warm. just when you thought elvis wasn't looking, you attempted to take off your scarf sneakily, but elvis quickly caught you, standing up. “hey! put that back on! don't make me count-that's right, leave it.” he crossed his arms for warmth, sighing. “now, don't go takin’ off the jacket too. ya tryin’ to freeze up?”

you squatted down, scooping up snow into a pile on the ground. the gloves were annoying you, not doing much to help you pack it up. you slipped them off, working on your little pile again with your bare hands. your hands began to freeze up, becoming numb from the snow. maybe elvis had a point on the gloves….

slipping them back on, you titled your head up and stuck your tongue out, letting the snowflakes fall on your tongue. it was surreal being able to see snow after never being able to experience it. it was even more special for elvis, he loved seeing how happy you were even if you were being a bit stubborn about keeping warm.

elvis walked up to you, patting you on the head. “whatcha doin’ silly?” he chuckled.

“daddy, ‘m gettin’ cold….” you frowned.

“is that right? well, we can't have that. let's get ya inside with a warm blanket and maybe some more hot chocolate, how's that sound?” he smiled.

“can i come back out after?”

he placed his hands on his hips, looking up at the sky and back down at you. “how ‘bout you come back out tomorrow? daddy’s gonna be snowed in anyway.”

without putting up a fight, you trusted him and hoped the snow would still be there tomorrow. “okay.”

“c'mon yittle, let's get ya warmed up. can't have you freezin’ up!” he helped you up, brushing the snow off of you before bringing you back into graceland to warm up and head to bed.

[aliypop]

That's Alright For Such A Night (Rewrite Chapter 9)

Word Count: 4,118

Writers Note: So far I'm enjoying rewriting this, and Now I'm adding and Rewriting my fanfic series Anyway you do into it to really solidify the timeline.

Warning: mostly fluff / Historic Language and Values/ Smut

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: During the Louisiana Hayride two breakout stars meet in a rush only to learn they've dealt their cards in the hands of fate.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Nashville, Tennessee, April 1960

"Damnit, Cece. You may be the sweetest thing I've ever met." he laughed as he kissed her hand, 

"Mr. Presley." Denise sighed, rubbing her temples, "M'am." he looked back at her, 

"If you'd let my artist work, that would be great." She glanced at him as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Tough crowd, huh?"

"Go, we'll talk about this when I get home." Cecelia smiled. 

"I ain't leavin yet..."

"El!" Cecelia squealed. 

"Not with a better kiss, baby." Cecelia giggled as she got on her tiptoes and kissed him,

 "Coulda asked me to lean over." he smirked, "Like a little teapot." She smirked back at him,

 "You're a kettle, honey. I'm a coffee pot." Elvis chuckled, kissing her hand and then her lips again.

" Mr. Presley!"

"I'm going, I'm going. Just had to say bye to my wife." 

Cecelia laughed as she watched him leave. Elvis Walked by Denise as he kissed her on the cheek, "Couldn't leave you out, mama." Denise playfully pushed him away as she blushed. 

"Now you get out of here!"

"Told you he's Charmin."Cecelia swooned. 

It was 8:30 p.m., and Elvis could hear the engine of Cecelia's pink Mustang pull to the front of the house. He knew she had to be tired of working all day in the studio, but he wanted to tell her about the movie and his idea to get hers done, 

"Hope I didn't miss dinner." he heard her voice from the front door as Vernon smiled, 

"You didn't miss much," Cecelia gave him a nod, 

"Great, I'm tired and starving." she smiled, "And I dearly missed my-" she ran into her husband's arms and kissed him all over his face,

 "Missed me, I see." Elvis winked as he dipped her and planted a playfully wet kiss on her lips.

"Always do."

 Vernon smiled, seeing the two lovers in each other's arms as he shook his head, reminding him of how he and Gladys used to be. 

"I'll let you two be."

"So, did you send the soundtrack off?" Elvis asked. He didn't mean to bug her about it. He was just excited for her.

"Mhmm, to Desilu studio's, which is always a dream to film at." she smiled. 

"Of course, you could always send it to Paramount." he hinted, "Since it's where we're going."

"We're..." she looked at him,

"Managed to pull some strings with The Colonel."

"I'm sure that was easy to do." She rolled her eyes, "But how'd you do it? How'd you snow him this time!" Sitting on the white couch in the living room.

"I told him you ain't going to be a distraction."

"That's all?" She laughed,

 "And you were there for business. So we wouldn't see each other none."

"Ah yes, there it is... The snow," she shook her head, 

"Don't give me that sad look."

"What sad look?"

"That one, doll, you know I'm gonna see ya." he kissed her forehead, 

"But..."

"Just trickin' him is all," he laughed. "Besides, your mama thought it was a hilarious idea."

"Of course she did..." 

"Baby..."

"El, it pains me that I have to hide our love. I can only kiss you when no one is around or here, or the studio, or my mother's mansion," she sighed, "I love you. And I'm not afraid to show it, even if The Colonel gets pissed he'll have to be madder than a viper about it." she then took a deep breath, "I'm your wife damnit and maybe one day the mother of your children too!" 

"Been bottling that up, huh," he looked at her as she nodded, 

"You know what, no more hiding it then." 

"You mean it..." 

"Anyone's got a problem with it, they can go through me."

"Elvis..."

"Nope, if it's botherin you that much, then to hell what everyone thinks." Elvis kissed her cheek,

"Elvis strikes again." She giggled,

"Damn right, he does."

Hollywood California. April 1960

"So I have good news..." Cecelia grinned, watching as the hair team did his hair,

 "What's the news, darlin," he asked, looking over his shoulder, 

"Well, the scripts greenlit and... the cast is getting in place and..." Elvis smiled at her as she kept rambling, 

"Who's playing the love interest." 

"Oh, you wouldn't know him," she smirked, 

"Tell me all about him."

"Well, he's charming. He's done five movies. He has a slew of records and appealing to the audience." She leaned over his shoulder, "Sounds like a catch," he smirked, 

"I picked him myself." She kissed his cheek, 

"Do I need to worry about this guy?" Elvis asked, leaning into her joke. 

"Not really," she kissed his cheek,

"So when do we start filming?"

"Well... next week, but I start getting fitted into my costume today." She smiled, 

"You'll have to show me." he looked at her lips, 

"Elvis... My boy, why aren't you in costume."

"The buzz kill rings." Cecelia sighed, pulling away from him.

"Stop by around lunch." he winked. The Colonel was still on and on yapping. As she giggled, swooning, 

"SHIT, I'm late!" 

Running across to Desilu studios, she had made it just in time for her fitting. Cecelia had feathers in her hair and a two-piece dress made of diamonds, which was supposed to go to Marilyn Monroe. 

"You look beautiful..." Cecelia nodded, looking at herself in the mirror, "It's the perfect dress for a gem like you." Lucile smiled, "Course, if I had your figure, I'd always dress like that." she joked with her cigarette in her mouth. 

"Let's see you walk in it..." she sauntered in it and gave it a turn, 

"You don't think it's too much?" Cecelia asked, 

"I'd say wear it around a bit, get used to it." Cecelia nodded as she took a deep breath. It was happening. Something she wrote was coming to life. Cecelia was walking towards the studio cafeteria. All eyes were on her as she glistened and glittered beyond the lights. She was like a seductive angel. But only one gentleman caught her eye. 

"You're drawing attention to yourself..." Midge whispered.

"So do Rita and Marilyn." She walked by as she got in line. Elvis had popped in as the women swooned and said hi, but his eyes caught onto the woman with every man at her feet. His heart skipped a beat the same way it did at the Hayride. As she turned around, he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. She was a knock out she was, 

"Cecelia..." she saw him, the uniform nearly sending her over the moon, reminding her of how he looked in the army,

 "Hello... Sergeant Tulsa."

"Costume fits u-u-uh nicely..." 

"So does yours..." she bit her lip, almost piercing it. Taking her by the hand, she could feel the sensation of the leather gloves. 

"We've got an hour to kill..."

"Then let's not waste it..." she smirked. Before she knew it, her back was against Elvis' dressing room, and her leg around his waist, 

"Tell me whatcha want baby,"

"You... " she pulled him by his tie. She kissed him deeply, licking his bottom lip as his mouth opened. She wanted to, no needed to taste him, and he needed the same. His hand found the zipper on her dress. 

"We got an hour go slow..." she moaned in his ear as she felt his tongue on her neck. 

"It's hard to when you're dressed like this..." nipping at her skin as he trailed his kisses lower towards her breast, giving each of her nipples attention, her head hitting against the wall already. 

"Fuck..." she gasped as he smirked, 

"You're gonna have to stay quiet, doll..." slipping his finger in her mouth as her pretty cherry lips sucked on them. Oh, how he wished she was sucking somewhere else. Cecelia was already on cloud nine. But she needed to feel him. Pulling away, she pushed him against the couch, pinning him down as she straddled him, undoing his belt buckle, finally getting to the main prize, 

"See someones eager..."

"You know what you in uniform does to me." she whispered in his ear, "Remind me." he laughed as she released him from his pants, her hands on his chest as Cecelia sank down on him, a shiver taking over her as Cecelia moaned, "Breathe darlin take it real slow." his hand on her cheek as she leaned into his touch, "Elvis~" she gasped, "Cock drunk already darlin." he chuckled thrusting up into her, his hands on her hips as she followed the rhythm of every pump. She whined as Cecelia arched her back. Falling into the pleasure, if Elvis hadn't known better, he had thought she'd had Betty Page beat to flexibility.

 "That's it, princess..." he grunted and groaned. She was in heaven, and so was he, "Hold on tight..." Picking her up, she was against the wall again, his hips sputtering faster into her. The two filling the room with skin slapping and moans, "Elvis fuck! Faster deeper!" clawing at his back. "Fuck Cece..." he growled in her ear, fulfilling her commands as he could feel it squeezing tighter around him. Elvis was getting lost in the pleasure, and so was she. Neither could care less about anything but each other and the moment. Her hands were in his hair as she tugged a few dark strands. Cecelia was right at her peak, and he was only a mile away, 

"Don't stop! Right there Fuck me!" It was as if lightning struck through him. His hips sputtered out of control, almost as if he were dancing, "Baby! Cece ..." he felt her kissing his neck as she bit his ear. Oh, she had messed up now. He was seeing stars, and so was she, still fucking her through her glass-shattering orgasm as her body finally fell limp against his own, 

"Did you..." 

"Mhmm..." her breathing was heavy and sporadic, "Did you..." she felt him pulling out as she felt empty again. She could feel some fluid running down her leg. Elvis took a wet towel, cleaning her up. Her legs were shaking like Bambi's as he laughed, 

"Was I too rough, honey...."

"You were perfect." she blushed, her head on his chest as she kissed his neck again,

 "Oops..." 

"What, darlin..."

"Someone's gonna need the hair and makeup team."

"Mr. Presley, we need you back on set!"

"Fuck..." he mumbled, "You stay here til I get back." he kissed her forehead, "It's all I can do." she chuckled. Fixing himself up, he walked out of his dressing room and back on set."Have you seen Cece..." Midge looked at him. She then smelled the perfume on his wrinkled costume. "You don't wanna go in there..." Elvis warned,

"Whys that Presley..." she smirked, "We're you two getting busy in there..." Midge looked at all the details as she laughed, and he blushed, 

"I knew I heard what I heard when I heard it..." 

"Don't tell the Colonel."

"I'm sure he knows loverboy." 

A few days had passed, and it was almost close to the wrapping of G.I. Blues. Cecelia had been in her dressing room getting ready to film all her solo scenes when standing by her doorway was, "Elvis... what are you doing here..." she chuckled as the hairstylist was doing her hair, "Wanted to see my favorite girl," he leaned in and kissed her as the stylist gasped, he then handed her a bouquet of pink roses, Elvis must have done something and she wanted to know what, "So I may have let it spill in an interview that we're married... and your mama won't stop callin about it, and Colonels pissed," he looked at her poker face, hoping she wasn't mad, 

"Well, you did the right thing," she smirked,

 "You're not mad..." 

"Nope..." she looked at him, 

"Cece..."

"El, I said I wanted everyone to know, and now they do. Although I doubt they'll believe it." she giggled, 

"So you're not mad?"

"Nope."  

"Promise."

"Promise." She kissed his hand. Cecelia grinned, holding the flowers in her hand. 

Later that night, Cecelia was in their California home on the phone, 

"Have you read the papers?"

"I have..." 

"And you're not going to debunk them."

"No," she sighed, "California's a bit different, " rolling her eyes as her mother was gritting her teeth, "Cecelia, just be careful I don't..."

"Don't want me hurt, don't worry, Elvis has already punched two men in my honor." 

"HE DID WHAT!"

"Oh, would you look at the time bedtime, Bye!" she hung up giggling,

 "So how'd the Colonel take it..." her eyes were trailing to a damp Elvis coming out of the shower, towel around his waist, her mouth wetter than her other lips,

 "Take what, angel?"

"Uh, the news?"She tried to focus as she watched him dry his hair off.

 "Darlin, it ain't polite to stare,"

"It is when it's a work of art." She pulled him by the towel as she laughed, 

"Can't get enough of me?" he laughed. Until he saw Cecelia upside down on the bed with her mouth wide open, 

"Doll..."

"You've been pleasing me. It's only fair I return the favor."Cecelia's voice dripped like honey, "Can you let me do that for you, sugar..." her southern accent oozed with seduction. Elvis could barely focus. The moonlight was glistening on her brown skin, and she sounded and looked so sweet he knew she deserved a taste, her lips wrapped around his length as she took all of him. She loved she could make him moan just from her lips alone. Elvis tugged at her hair. Setting the rhythm with each thrust in her mouth, he could see her eyes looking right at his as another guttural moan left his lips, 

He was in heaven from every lick, suck, and gag from his dear angel. 

"Fuck...You're too good to me, baby." he could feel himself twitching around her as she focused on the base of his pretty pink tip. Elvis was about to explode if she didn't stop, but he didn't want her to, 

"Just like that..." his hips moving faster. Ropes of cum were on her tongue as she looked at him. Completely drunk by his taste, Cecelia swallowed, "You're one naughty girl. You know that, right," Pulling out as she nodded at him, he kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally those lips he loved so much. 

"Now it's my turn."

"But El."

"Ah..." he was between her thighs. Elvis pulled the bottoms of her baby doll pajamas down. His teeth grazed the inside of her thighs as he licked and trailed his sweet kisses back up to her soaking-wet panties, "El!" she grabbed his hair as she felt his tongue lap at the spot where the stain was, "Vis..." she sighed as her eyelids fluttered. 

"There's plenty more baby..." He hadn't done much to her, and she was already getting breathy and blissed out. Oh, how his heart couldn't believe this amazing woman was his wife. Removing her panties, he slowly plunged two fingers into her soaking wet cavern. The sweet moans and juicy sounds she made were only driving him crazier. 

"Oh God..." she groaned as his tempo was faster, curling both fingers against her spot. His thumb was circling her clit, and his mouth was moving just as fast as his fingers. Cecelia was in pure bliss, heaven even, as she could feel her end coming soon. It was what the French called La Petite Mort, 

"Oh FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" she screamed,

"ElViS Oh God!! "she moaned. Elvis was eating as if he were starving, and he was hungry for her love, her affection, to please her, to show her he was hers and she, his own. If he couldn't tell she was a singer, he could by her moans from the E6 she was hitting just from his tongue and fingers alone, 

"Baby..."

Her legs were shaking again, and he was going back down to lick her clean. She was still sensitive, but Elvis knew she couldn't take anymore. After all, neither could he. The two were still tired from earlier that day on his break from set. 

"Was it too much..."

"P-Perfect." she looked at him as he cuddled her close to him. 

"Still on cloud nine."

"Mhmm..."

"Me too." he kissed her forehead. 

"Baby..." She took a deep breath,

" Hmmm, darlin?"

"Do you hear knocking..."

"Cecelia SHANEL VALMOS!!!" 

"Oh fuck me..."

"Would you like me to..."

"Considering that's my mother at the door, I don't think so," Cecelia said. How long had Denise even been in California? She wondered as she kept knocking on the door, 

"We need to talk. Now-"

Cecelia opened the door as Elvis put on his shirt, 

"Hey, mama..." the two said as Denise shook her head, 

"Did I catch you two at a bad time?"Denise asked as they both shook their heads, 

"Good, well, meeting living room now," Denise commanded as the two followed behind her. They'd all been sitting on the couch looking at each other until Denise slammed the picture on the table, 

"What's this about..."

"Well..." Elvis started,

"I told the press we were married, and they ran with it." Cecelia smiled, 

"No big deal."

"No big deal, my ass, soon they'll make rumors that you're pregnant!" 

Memphis, Tennessee, March 1961

"So tell us! Who are these cuties." Reporters flooding the steps of Graceland, Cecelia hadn't been in the limelight. And it wasn't because of the lack of free time from recording, but "This is Jesse Vernon Presley, and this is Elaine Marie Love Presley." the two said proudly, each holding a baby in their arm. On February 6th, 1961, Cecelia had given birth to twins, and Elvis was still mesmerized by them both. He was excited to see who they'd take after more or if they were their own little people and get in their own trouble to wreak havoc, 

        "So tell us, Elvis, any new music?"

                        "Elvis, when are you going back on tour!"

        "Elvis, how do you feel about the new generation of artists." 

"You know my wife here has been working on a few movies and albums and-

"Cecelia, do you plan to quit music and focus on the kids in total?."

Cecelia grumbled, "No, I plan to do both. My mother did both, and she raised me just fine." Cecelia began to grit her teeth as they kept pestering. Elvis could see how angry she was getting, "I think that's all the time we have."Elvis said as he helped Cecelia up. The two walked back into the house, and she took a deep breath. Elvis knew what that meant. She was going to blow her top, but that was until she looked into Jesse's eyes, 

"You okay, mama bear?"

"I'm fine, Papa Bear." She smiled as Elvis held Elaine. She was safe and warm in Elvis's arms before she threw up on his shoulder, 

"Lainie... That's the third time today." He sighed. Fatherhood was looking good on him. If Cecelia did say so herself, the way he wiped her mouth off and made funny-faced while doing so. Jesse, on the other hand, was fussy, which meant he was sleepy.  

"I'm gonna put him down for his nap."

"I'll come with you." Elaine was already asleep as Jesse was still crying, 

"There there, blue moon." she nuzzled his nose as Elvis kissed his forehead. His eyes were just about as blue as his daddy's. 

"Think he's hungry?" Elvis asked,

"No, Elaine cries when she's hungry, and Jesse grabs at me," Cecelia said, putting him in his crib as she rocked him slowly. Elvis did the same with Elaine. They both began to sing them a lullaby as the pair had officially dozed off to sleep.

"This Parenting thing can't be so bad, can it?"Elvis questioned.

"I don't think so. The twins are asleep. You're covered in baby spit-up, and I can barely fit my favorite dresses." Cecelia teared up. "I don't even feel like myself anymore..." Elvis had her in his arms as she continued to cry,

"Baby, you are the sexiest mama I ever seen," Elvis said, kissing her face. He was right, from the way her hips were a bit fuller, but she still had curves like a winding highway that he wanted on top of him right now. 

"You're just being nice." she sighed, 

"Honey..."

"Hmm..." 

"You're being hard on yourself again..." Elvis said, kissing her as they walked out of the nursery, 

"I know, baby..."

"You're more than what those fakes out there said to you," he hugged her, 

"We'll get through this crazy life together, I assure you." 

Las Vegas January 1973

"JESSE GIVE ME BACK MY GUITAR!" Elaine shouted from the top of her lungs, 

"MAKE ME!" He responded, standing on the hotel bed, dangling it over her head, "I'm telling Mama right now!" Elaine glared with the fury of her father as she marched out of the room and towards her parents. It was another year of the Vegas residency and another birthday spent in Vegas. But this year was different. It was the first time they bought the kids, and Cecelia already thought it was a bad idea. They could hear them arguing through the hotel walls, and neither wanted to leave the bordello dream bed as it was so cozy. 

"YOU WOULDN'T TELL MAMA!"

" I WOULD!" Elaine smirked, knocking on the door.

Elvis turned over to face Cecelia as she looked over at him, 

"Who's gonna settle it..." he asked, 

"I got it. You rest. You've been up all night."

"You sure? I mean, today is your birthday,"

"El, you'll make it up to me." She kissed him. Cecelia then walked towards the door, and she was greeted by Elaine and Jesse, who were arguing worse than their grandparents. 

"Can I help you, and one at a time, and if you even talk over each other, you both are being sent back to your room, and you will hash it out yourselves." 

"Jesse took my guitar and dangled it over my head!" 

"I did not!" he stuck his tongue out at his sister, Jesse was mischievous like his father and always had a prank up his sleeve, but he meant well, even if his sister didn't find it funny, 

"Did too!" 

"Did not!"

"Did too!" 

"YOUR DADDY IS TRYING TO SLEEP AND IF YOU WAKE HIM, THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY DO YOU HEAR ME!" Elvis said from the bed as they both straightened up. Elvis had now been standing behind Cecelia in his robe as she looked up at him, "Now what happened?"

"Well. Elaine was teasing me, and so I took her guitar."

"What did you say to him, Elaine?" Cecelia asked. Elaine had a sharp tongue like both her parents. It was something she was proud of him, 

"I told him he's about as dumb as a seal who thinks it's a dolphin." Elvis and Cecelia tried not to laugh,  

"I told her she's as cross-eyed as Gladly the cross-eyed grizzly bear."

"I'm not cross-eyed, you moron!"

Elvis and Cecelia couldn't contain their laughter as their children kept going. There was so much of them in their children, but also, there was so much love,

"You two apologize to each other." Elvis said, trying to catch his breath, "Lord have mercy." Elaine and Jesse glared at each other. Jesse's blue eyes were intense, like his father's, but not like Elaine's, who had brownish-green eyes that pooled up when she was angry. 

"I'm not apologizin to her."

"Jesse Vernon Presley... don't make me put grandma on the phone. That goes for you too. Elaine."Cecelia said, her hands on her hips. 

"But!"

"Ah. Ah, you two are the only things you've got in this world," the two rolled their eyes,

"Listen to your mama."

"Yes, daddy..." they mumbled,

"Your daddy and I didn't have anyone else in the world to talk to."

"What about aunt Midge and uncle Jerry?" Jesse asked.

"Yes, but no, what your mama means is, when we're old an grey and gone, you two will still be here through thick and thin."Elvis smiled,

"So it's important, you two stick together," Cecelia kissed both of their foreheads, "Now apologize..." 

"I'm sorry..." Jesse hugged his sister,

"I'm sorry too," Elaine smiled, 

"Good, now, why don't you two get dressed and..."

"Oh boy, it's Star Trek!" Jesse and Elaine flopped on the bed as Cecelia and Elvis laughed.

"Well there goes your birthday surprise..."

"We still got tonight." Cecelia smirked,

"YOU'RE STUPID!" Elaine shouted,

"YOU'RE A MORON!" Jesse said back.

"Definitely tonight." Elvis mumbled, rubbing his temples.

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

The END!

[teddybeartoji]

☆. contains: 18+ minors dni, bf!satoru gojo x fem!reader, established relationship, quickie in a restroom bc they haven't seen each in other in days:(((((

you rush towards the bathroom, dragging a giggly bf!gojo right behind you. it has just been a couple of days but it's a couple of days too long. you missed him and he missed you. simple as that.

satoru closes and locks the door behind him and your hands fly around his neck, eagerly pulling him down to meet your lips the second he turns around. his back hits the door and his fingers find their way under your shirt, his touch warming your skin.

"missed me so m-much, huh?" your voice is low and teasing and it's making his head spin.

"mhmmm..." is all he breathes out.

and the next thing you know, you're being lifted up onto the counter while your lips stay locked. his hands make quick work of your pants, shimmying them down before removing his own belt with one hand. the other is holding your cheek, keeping you close. your own hands are grasping at him too, eagerly pulling him down by his shirt collar. he pushes his pants and boxers down to his thighs in one go and then his fingers skim over the wet patch on your panties. he lets out a loud groan at how wet you are. for him.

"looks like you missed me too, hm?" he's so out of breath, sounding like he just ran a marathon. normally he would love to take his time with you, tease and taste you. he'd absolutely love to use his fingers to toy with you but not this time. he needs to have you now.

so he pushes your panties to the side and he slides his pre-cum covered cock between your slick folds.

"never said that i didn't. i thought about you every day, satoru." you confess. "i even saw you in my dreams."

...

everything comes to a halt and his cerulean eyes bore into yours. and then he's latching his lips to yours once more.

"you're- mmpff..." satoru mumbles into your mouth. "fucking killing me, sweetheart."

he feels you giggle against him and he can't help but do the same. he starts to slowly sink into your tight wet cunt and when your lips make the perfect little 'o', he cranes his head back a little to stare at your blissful expression with a smile.

satoru rests his head on your shoulder and shudders as he finally bottoms out. you're squeezing him so tightly that he literally needs to take a second to focus on not cumming like a virgin. he has to pull himself together.

"please... m-move..." your voice comes out as a shaky whisper, a quiet plea for him to make you feel good.

"y-yeah. fuck. j-just give me a second, baby." he braces his one hand behind you on the wall while the other rests on your waist. he turns his head from your shoulder to press messy kisses on along your neck and jaw and now it's your turn to shudder in his embrace.

one of your hands buries itself into his snow white hair while the other caresses his warm cheek. his breath tickles and your eyes fall shut.

the moment is surprisingly gentle and romantic despite the fact that you're doing this in a coffee shop bathroom. you're thankful because the place is almost empty and now you just have to hope and pray that none of the few people are gonna need to use the bathroom.

for a long time.

[the-chronicles-of-a-bookworm]

Aomine Daiki x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend, Aomine, was away for a practise match between some other school. You, however, wanted cuddles. Pairing: Aomine Daiki x GN! Reader Warnings: None, just fluff Words: 538 a/n: I started writing this at 2:20 p.m. This is supposed to be gn!reader but I visualized a fem!reader when writing this. This is proofread but please give feedback. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s cold.”, you whispered to yourself, silently hoping that Aomine could somehow hear you. Maybe the wind can carry your whispers to him. It was snowing slightly. Not enough for a blizzard or anything. Just little specks of white on the roads and pavements. As if the wind had sent your message to your boyfriend, you heard the keys jingling and a rough, deep voice calling out “Baby, I’m home!”

You run over to Aomine, jumping up and latching your arms around his neck, giving him soft, quick kisses on his cheek and down to his jaw.

“Daiki! Finally, you’re home. I’ve been waiting for so long and I want to cuddle.”, you whined.

You gave him your pouty face, slowly blinking your eyes and giving your boyfriend more kisses, trailing down his neck. Aomine has still not let you down, enjoying your kisses. After what seemed like eternity, your boyfriend placed you on the ground.

“C’mere baby. We can cuddle here.” Aomine said, guiding your red loveseat.

Aomine laid down first and opened his arms, gesturing you to come and cuddle up next to him.

His eyes drifted to your feet, and he smirked slightly.

“Oh! You’re stealing my socks too, now? Can’t get enough of me babe?”

“Shut up, Daiki.”, you said, slightly slapping his chest, “I missed you, and your socks are big and warm.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.”, he took you arms and started kissing your palm before he pressed his lips onto yours.

Aomine’s kisses varied from soft to passionate and rough. Right now, he was softly kissing you, lightly licking your bottom lip for permission to enter and you happily complied. It spread sparks of pleasure around your body. A euphoric feeling filling you body. Aomine’s lips on yours was the only thing you registered, completely blocking out anything else that was happening around you.

Aomine slowly pulled away, both of you slightly panting. You grinned before whispering his name, repeatedly.

“I love you so much, Daiki. And you’re right, I can never get enough of you”, you whispered.

His fierce blue eyes were oozing with warmth and love as he stared at you.

“I love you too, Y/N.”, Aomine whispered, pecking your lips.

“But I love you more.”, you teased, smirking slightly.

“No, I love you more.”

“In your dreams, Daiki.”

“That should be my line.”

“Huh? I couldn’t hear you.”, you giggled.

Aomine shifted so that he could hover over you and started tickling you. Your giggles and laughs filled the room. Even Aomine started laughing out loud. His warm laugh reached your ears and you giggled more.

“The only one who can love more is me!” you boyfriend said.

“Fine, fine! I surrender! Please stop!” you shouted, still laughing.

Aomine pulled his hand away and returned to your original position. You put your head in the crook of his neck before you felt your eyes slowly drooping.

You gave him a small kiss on his neck before you quiet snores filled the room. The last thing you registered was Aomine hugging you more tightly and a kiss on the back of you head.

(You can ask to be tagged in my posts)

@vespersposts

[your-world-with-nct]

— omg a new post? shocker 😹 LMAO dw im still writing polaroid love but i wanted to put out smth in the meantime to celebrate taro’s birthday (even if it’s late) 🫶🏼

💌 • 7:43pm

you loved the snow. you loved how pretty it looked, the white crystals beautifying everything they touched, you loved the cosy atmosphere it came with, and, most importantly, you loved how the cold temperature gave you an excuse to be extra affectionate with boyfriend!shotaro.

you shivered, tightening your grip on his arm as you two walked down the busy streets together, “taro, baby, i’m so cold.”

he furrowed his eyebrows, you couldn’t tell if he was simply confused at why you were stating something so obvious or suspicious of your little act. the concerned look on his face as he stopped to take his scarf off and wrap it around your neck told you that it was the former.

“what did i say about layering up in the cold, y/n! you know i don’t want you to get sick.” even when shotaro was scolding you, you couldn’t help but find him adorable, but, he still wasn’t giving you what you wanted.

“i know, i know, i just thought…” you trailed off, realising how silly and needy you would sound.

“thought what?” he asked as he adjusted the scarf. as soon as he was satisfied with it, he took your hand in his, putting your intertwined hands into his pocket.

“n-nothing,” you smiled to yourself as you felt him rub his thumb against your hand.

shotaro glanced over at your flushed face, “eh? are you still cold, love? or… aww, are you flustered?”

he faked a gasp, before giggling at how adorable you looked trying to deny the effect he had on you.

“wh— huh? what? n-no! it’s just cold, okay!” you used your other hand to bring the scarf up to cover your face, but that wasn’t enough to stop shotaro’s endearing teasing.

“mhm, sure you are,” he pinched your cheek with his free hand, chuckling at the way you scrunched your nose in feigned annoyance. “ooh, look, a café! let’s go in and warm up, and while we’re there, how about i get you a hot chocolate? y’know… since you’re so cold.”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes, lightly smacking shotaro’s arm as he laughed to himself. “sounds good though,” you added quietly, snuggling into his side.

you reached the café in no time, your steps had quickened with the thought of having a warm and sweet drink. as your boyfriend opened the door for you, a pleasant ding resonated from the bell above the door and a wave of warmth washed over you both. you let out a sigh of relief, loosening the scarf around your neck and taking your hood off.

“it’s quite busy, can you get a table for us while i order, sweetheart?” shotaro asked, letting go of your hand as he joined the long queue.

you nodded, heading towards a small table in the corner and taking a seat. you put your (well, shotaro’s) long puffer coat on the chair opposite from you to save it, savouring the warmth of the indoors before you had to leave again. although the café heating was doing its job, you had to admit you missed the warmth of your boyfriend’s touch.

as if he had read your mind, you felt shotaro’s hand on your shoulders—you didn’t have to turn around to know it was him when you heard the cheeky giggle escape his lips as he slid into the chair you’d saved.

“one large hot cocoa to share, and a sweet treat for my sweetheart,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he placed the cup and an adorable, little snowman cupcake in front of you.

“aww, baby, thank you! oh my god, it’s so cute,” you brought the cupcake closer to you to admire it, picking off a small snowflake sprinkle with a little bit of icing and tasting it. shotaro’s smile widened as he saw your eyes light up at the sweet flavours.

“i knew you’d love it! eat up, we’ve got a lot of members to buy christmas presents for.” he took a quick swig of the hot chocolate once he noticed you were too preoccupied with the cupcake to have even touched the drink.

“ah, that’s right, but i don’t think i can bring myself to eat him now that i’ve named him,” you pouted, patting the snowman’s strawberry jam scarf.

“you— what’s his name?”

“snowtaro,” you covered your mouth with your hand, embarrassed at how funny you found something so silly. lucky for you, shotaro had the same nonsensical sense of humour that you did, and once his laughter started, you couldn’t hold yours back.

“ahh, y/n, you cutie, how about you take a picture to remember… snowtaro by, and then you can eat it and enjoy it!” he suggested, still giggling at the name and how amusing you found it.

“hmph, okay, okay,” you nodded, following what shotaro had said and finally taking a bite of little snowtaro. “oh wow, i didn’t think it was possible but it tastes better than it looks!”

the smile on shotaro’s face didn’t seem like it was leaving any time soon as he watched you alternate between bites of the cupcake and sips of the hot chocolate, letting out quiet ‘mmm’s and ‘ooh’s that he couldn’t help but find endearing.

“i love you.”

“hm?” you looked up, your mouth full as your boyfriend caught you mid-chew.

“ah,” shotaro’s gaze wandered anywhere but your face, the blood rushing to his cheeks at how flustered he was—he couldn’t even blame the cold for it.

“i-i didn’t even realise i said anything, it must’ve just slipped out,” he added. it wasn’t like he hadn’t said it before, but it wasn’t something he said so often or so easily.

“i meant it though.”

shotaro finally looked up, your eyes locking as he did. he traced your beautiful features, finding beauty in the perfect—your sparkling eyes, your bright smile—and the imperfect—the cupcake crumbs beside your mouth, the brown hot chocolate stain on your white turtleneck. he might have found it hard to tell you he loved you, but he never, ever found it hard to love you.

“i love you too, taro,” you replied, reaching across the table to connect your hand with shotaro’s. the sincerity in your voice and your touch set his heart ablaze, a warmth that nothing and nobody else could ignite but you.

he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to it, leaving you both as smiley and giggly as you were before you had eaten snowtaro.

it was in that moment that shotaro finally understood why you loved the snow so much. not just because it was pretty or because it was cosy, but because of the warmth you felt when you were together. the warm, loving moments he spent with you made the chilling winters worth it. you made it worth it.

© YOUR-WORLD-WITH-NCT, 2022

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, ��yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[rosecoloreddesire]

My Devil In Disguise, Pt . 4

The Blocked Road To Fame, Chapter 4

Austin! Elvis x OC, Elvis x OC

Summary: Annalise Snow is a girl that Hank Snow raised to be a good all American girl that all the other girls would want to be. Well when a boy that comes from the same Memphis Annalise missed…it turns out she’s a little more wild then she thought. Will she travel to the ends of the Earth with a boy she just met? Or will she be left in the dust?

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: swearing, yelling, 50′s racial standards in music, Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis’ Hound Dog performance, proofread twice, angst!

Note: Thank you so much for all the love on my other stories! You guys ae all amazing and I love all of y’all! I still don’t know when or how I’m gonna end this series but I hope y’all enjoy! Thanks!

“It’s Milton Berle! The whole of America will be watchin’!”  Elvis tells the shop owner as he complains B.B and him are running him out of business. Annalise laughs and places a hand on Elvis’ chest. 

“He don’t watch television, Elvis. He just sews the threads on y’alls backs!” She pats his lapel and winks as B.B twirls her around. He turns his attention back to Elvis as she sat down. Her attention on one of her friends helping her latch her new shoes.

“So what’s it gonna be? What’s gonna blow their wigs off?” He stands still as the shop owner measures him.

“Well the network wants me to do a ballad but I left that up to Annalise. So I’m thinkin about cuttin’ it up with Hound Dog!” He smiles and B.B whistles.

“Ho! Elvis Presley...Hound Dog? Strange things are happenin’ everyday. What’s my little Snow gonna do?” He fixed the bow on her ponytail as she looked up at the men. She places a finger on her chin in thought.

“I was thinkin’ pitchin’ and slowin’ down Heartbreak Hotel! I heard my daddy would be watchin’ so I think that’ll give ‘em a shock!” She shook her shoulders back and forth as the two men snickered at the thought.

“Did you go to Beth-Ann for the fittin’? I wanna make sure my little star looks like a real one on that television screen!” B.B wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she nodded. She looked up at Elvis as his measurements were checked as well to make sure his outfit was well in order for the performance. He looked ethereal just getting a fitting. She was gonna be a mess for when he performed later, huh?

“I can’t wait! Elvis you’re gonna love my outfit! I promise it’ll be show stoppin’! I’m gonna make my daddy pass out!“ She clapped her hands together and giggled, her feet swinging back and forth above the floor. B.B rubbed her back and stood up. Dusting his shoulders off, he placed his hand on Elvis’ shoulder.

“Honestly, E.P. That dress might make most of America’s men pass out! She’s gonna be a knock out! I told her it might be a little too much for them conservative white folk!” He chuckled as Elvis crossed his arms.

“Damn I might get a little green in the face, darlin’. I’ll try to keep calm durin’ my performance.” He winked as Annalise flushed pink. She was doin’ this really to make her dad upset. That she was no longer an angelic symbol but…teasing Elvis? That sounded like the best plan in her head.

“Now now, kids. Don’t get too excited! You guys gotta make it there first!”

———————————-

“I feel like my entire body is gonna fall, Elvis. I-I don’t think I can do this!” Her hands shook and they felt sweaty. She felt her body shiver and break out into a cold sweat. She thought this was going to be fun but she was going on right after Elvis and she KNEW it was gonna be a tough crowd after that. A gentle tug of her hand releases her from her thoughts.

“C’mon baby. I promise you’re gonna do great! Are you wearing that coat for the performance?” Her breath stopped and she wrapped the coat tighter around herself. She shakes her head and Elvis kisses her on the forehead as his name is called out.

“I can do this. I can do this.” She peaks around the navy curtain and her family is smack dab in the middle of the crowd. Her head clouding with doubt as she’s thinking about performing. Not even Elvis performing can distract her from seeing her daddy’s scorn face. How was she going to sing with him right in front of her face?

“Now, Miss Snow. Let’s take this jacket off and get you a little somethin’!“ Colonel Parker took Annalise’s coat and handed it to some assistant. He smiled as Annalise’s body shook. She took her hands as she smoothed her dress out, sweat becoming prominent in her system.

“How about you just sing your little Hallelujah or Amazing Grace! You’d be beloved for being Hank Snow’s Conservative Lass again! Make your money with your daddy again and Elvis won’t-“ She whipped her head back as he stopped his gaslighting. She raised her finger to his face.

“I ain’t gonna hear another word come out that mouth, Parker! Elvis and I are a package deal!” She scoffed as he put his hands up in surrender. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this man and why Elvis was wrapped around his finger. 

“And welcome to our stage, Miss Annalise Snow!” She dropped the coat from her shoulders and winked at Tom Parker.

“And don’t cha worry, Parker. I can get Elvis to do whatever I want too.” She took a deep breath and shook her hands out. What the hell was going on with her? She walked past the curtain waving at the cheering crowd.

“Miss Annalise, you look gorgeous tonight! Now, Elvis really cut a rug! What’re you gonna do to one up ‘em?” She giggled at Milton and turned towards the audience. She made eye contact with her daddy. His face was etched in surprise, laced with a complete sneer of disgust. She smiled and looked at Milton.

“Imma sing Heartbreak Hotel! Elvis helped me pitch it up and even helped me record it in the studio at RCA! Though y’all will have to wait and see if I release it.” You sent a wink to the crowd and a few men audibly groaned. She covered her mouth and a blush made it’s way to her cheeks. The music began and her body began to relax as she was back in her element.

“Well, since my baby left me. Well, I found a new place to dwell.”

Her daddy’s jaw seemed to go slack as he watched his daughter dance for this audience. She was just like Elvis. Her raw magnetism was pulling these young men (and even a few ladies) into sin! How deplorable!

“Well, it’s down at the end of Lonely Street. At Heartbreak Hotel.”

Annalise couldn’t stop thinking about the way Elvis tore up the stage with Hound Dog. How many of those girls were feeling the same feeling she felt when she met him on the Louisiana Hayride? She gripped the microphone stand and slid her hand down it slowly.

“Where I’ll be, I’ll be so lonely baby, Well, I’m so lonely. I’ll be so lonely, I could die.”

She began to drag the mic stand with her as she walked a little closer to the camera. She sent a kiss and wink as she ended the song. Her way of singing the song was definitely more different than Elvis’. She bowed and waved at the crowd not missing her brother’s enthusiasm as he held a small sign that read, “Annalise Snow’s #1 fan!”.

“Holy, mama. I don’t think I ever wanna sing again. I just wanna hear you sing every single damn song I’ve ever sung.” Elvis’ southern drawl dripped into her ear as a protective hand found solace on her lower back. Her body felt afire.

“Well you didn’t do half bad yourself, Mister Presley” She whispered. Her hands fumbling with his lapels just so she didn’t have to look in his eyes. His electric laugh ruined that plan however. She tilted her head in confusion.

“I saw your daddy’s face out there, darlin’. He was so shocked to see ya rock that song! I’m gonna have to treat you to somethin’ special. Let’s get you ready to go home, baby.” He grabbed her coat and her hand. He laid a quick kiss on her forehead as they tried to run out of the venue as quick as they could.

——————

“Bar Elvis Presley from Television?! This is ridiculous! Just because you’re movin’!” She threw the pile of newspapers to the ground as she ran her hands shakily through her auburn hair. She bit on her nails, large hands grabbing hers as Elvis kissed them softly. The piano seemed so far away from them as she stared at the floor. More and more headlines reading their names.

“They also want you sent back to Louisiana, darlin’. They think your bein’ held captive by me and Beale Street. They got pictures of us there. I-I don’t blame you if you do but-“  “ 

“This is ridiculous Elvis! We’re doin’ what we love! We ain’t hurtin’ no one! Elvis I promised you I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth!” She grazed his face with her fingers as his eyes seemed to slightly soften upon the small act.

Annalise Snow: Victim or Sex Icon?

School Expels Presley Fans

Sexy Snow Melts Fans Into Sin

Elvis the Pelvis Belongs In The Jungle

“That’s one of the most childish expressions I’ve ever heard coming from an adult.” Annalise sighed in agreement. She came to rest on his lap. Tom Parker once again graces the pair with his presence.

“The New Elvis Presley! And of course the New Annalise Snow!” Annalise’s jaw dropped at the costumes. A hellish butler tailcoat and what looked like a damn communion dress! The damn thing looked like a large tutu!

“You have got to be kidding! I ain’t wearin’ that! How is Elvis gonna move in those?” She looked wide eyed at Elvis who returned the same look.

“That’s the point! They think you have broken the segregation laws. They wanna send Elvis to jail for his moves…and you to a church to learn the ways of a nun! We will take care of this the easy way!” The man pulls on the outfits on the rack and grins. Time was running out for the next performance and the pair’s brains were reeling. They knew they’d be embarrassed but why was the Colonel so happy about it?

“Just for this show? And that children’s charity concert?” Elvis let out a deep sigh as the Colonel nodded.

“Then we can put this all behind us.” Tom smiled as he placed the costumes in the hands of the two young lovers. The two picked at the costumes and hastily began to change.

“Let’s get this over with, Elvis.”

———————-

“GOD DAMNIT! I know how to do a skit! I-I coulda made it funny!” Elvis growled throwing the tailcoat to the ground. He rubbed his hands over his face. Annalise all but threw herself on the ground as tears poured from her eyes. She’s never been more mortified in her life. She messed up the lyrics and everything as she stared at the audience and could feel Elvis’ unwavering anger near her. She’s never seen him this angry since they’ve been together.

“The most stupid, embarrassing humiliatin’ thing I ever did.” Scotty placed his guitar down and placed a hand on his hip. Like he was trying to keep his anger at bay but his words came out seething.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?!”

“WE’RE MUSICIANS!” Scotty raised his hands up in disbelief. The yelling kept ramping up as Annalise tore off her dress behind one of the partitions and got back into her regular clothes as she tried to get between the two arguing men.

“PLEASE! Guys, let’s all just go home and forget about it! It’s been a long day,” the two began to pack up in silence as Annalise went to rub Elvis’ back,” you did great regardless, love.” Elvis froze but smiled softly. His anger still rampant in his eyes but clouded for the moment by his steady still trying to keep those tears in for him. He stopped a tear from falling down her cheek. He grabbed his bag and intertwined their fingers.

“I love you so much, darlin’.”

“I love you more, Elvis.

“Let’s go home, darlin’. Lord knows we need it.”

———————

Fans littered the entrance to Graceland as they made their way to the gates. Fans holding memorabilia dedicated to both of them. Saying they wanted the old them back on signs. Trying to pull at Elvis from outside the car. Annalise shrank herself down in the back. She’d never been out in the top down convertible with Elvis but at least she was in the back. She let Elvis go in first as she stood staring at the house once again.

“Where did I go wrong, Jimmie?” She shook her head and that’s when the yelling started. Where did the path divulge into this mess? She winced as she made her way through the door. It was always apparent when Gladys was drinking and when it was too much.

“It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, daddy.” Elvis was already laying down on the piano bench as she made her way in. Vernon waved her over but she stood awkwardly to the side of his chair.

“Those people were using you to poke fun at the whole South! Gettin’ a laugh at puttin’ a hillbilly in a tailcoat and singing to a dog! And then puttin’ my poor lil’ Annalise in that tragic white trash bag?!” Gladys walked away holding two bottles of beer in her hand.

“Damnit, mama. It was either that or get canceled! Then that’s it for television. Colonel says I’m running out of states that I’m welcome in. A-And they don’t pay unless I can perform.” Elvis began to sit up as he spoke. Annalise clung to the wall and tried her best to keep the tears in her eyes. She bit on the side of her cheek to keep from sobbing. She knew Gladys was drinking uncontrollably lately but it didn’t stop the fear that ran through her body as they fought. Was this Annalise’s fault? If he would’ve stayed with Dixie would this still be happening?

“Someone’s gotta think about keepin’ a roof over our heads.” Vernon said as he lit his cigarette. Annalise tried to cover her cough as he smoked.

“A roof over our head? We’ve always managed to keep a roof over our head, Vernon!” She said incredulously. She huffed and turned around again.

“Colonel has got us all of this!“ Elvis retorted. Annalise just wanted the fighting to end.

“I don’t want all of this! You’re unhappy!” She pointed at her son.

“I AM NOT!” Annalise flinched at his voice as Gladys slammed the table with her hands. The tears broke the dam she was trying so hard to keep closed. Vernon grabbed her hand and rubbed it in small circles as she fell to her knees. How was everything going wrong when it was so right a few hours before?

“You’re losing yourself booby! Look at Annalise! This isn’t the life you both need!” The two stare each other down as Vernon continued to comfort the shaking leaf that was Annalise. Gladys seeming to have a sober bit of empathy went to go towards the girl to comfort her but was interrupted by the group of guys running into the house.

“Don’t track mud in the house, Billy! Get out! Get out of my god damn house! Trailin’ mud in my house doin my damn head in,” he grabbed his coat and rubbed his temples,” Mama, you ain’t ever happy. No matter what I do. No matter how much I give ya. It ain’t ever enough. And I wish you would not drink so god damn much. It’s not good for ya!” He turned grabbing Annalise’s arm and pulling her up. He wiped her tears and took one last look at his mom before running out into the rain to his car. Annalise turns back, shocked. 

“Booby! Wait!” Elvis picked Annalise up and she slid to the passenger side as Elvis hopped on after her. The engine roared to life and they whipped on out of there makin their way to the gates. Annalise panicked looking for something to hide her face. Elvis pulled her arm down. His eyes were afire in rage.

“No hidin’ now, Darlin’. I’ve got nothin’ left to lose.” The gates opened as Elvis pressed through the channels on the radio. He ignored the fans and flashing lights as he pulled out. Trying to outrun the cars he knew would follow. Annalise took a deep breath. The crisp air hitting her face and slowly relaxing her racing mind. What the hell happened to them?

————————

“Elvis, we’ll get killed if that damn Parker finds out we’re here!”The neon of Beale Street beginning to call her to the streets of her heart. She smiled but knew if they were caught that was the end of them. She could see B.B hanging out one of the windows of Club Handy. A crowd of people surrounded Elvis as he exited the car. He came around and once again picked up the shaking girl. He spun her around in his arms as people around them squealed and hollered. He placed a soft kiss to her lips and she finally smiled.

“Please, darlin’. I wanna just forget today. Let’s go have some fun, yeah?” He tilted her chin up with his finger. She nodded as she twirled around to talk to a group of women. The pair began signing autographs and hugging fans trying to make their way to the club doors.

“E.P.!”

“B.B.!”

The lovers make their way to Club Handy and finally breathe as they see the performer for the night. Annalise left B.B and Elvis to talk in the back as she went to the front. She danced with her dresser Betty-Ann and her daughter, Sally. Annalise hollered as Little Richard bent forward taking her hand. She fanned herself and giggled as the girls did the same.

“I saw your dress on the television the other day! Momma did a bang up job on ya, Miss Snow!” Sally clapped and rubbed her moms shoulder in support.

“Honestly, Miss Snow is one of my favorite customers. And not because of those way too big tips, lil thing.” Betty Ann grinned and spun around.

“I’ll always be your customer! Maybe when I get real famous I’ll hire you to be my personal wardrobe designer!” Betty-Ann jumped for joy and squealed. Her best customer and her against the world! She would’ve been delighted.

“And Sally can come with and do your hair, lovie! You better keep your promise, youngin’.” She pushed her shoulder and embraced her. The trio went back to dancing and continued to cheer on the performer. Annalise twirled and twisted. Her body intertwined with the music as the night went on. Forgetting about how awful the whole day had been.

“Hey, can I cut in? Time to dance with my star client! Right, little snow?” B.B wiggled his body, the girls snickering. B.B and Elvis made their way to the little group the girls had created. Elvis held her close and wanted nothing but her body as close as possible. With everything going on what if she was sent back to Louisiana? He didn’t even care about the jail time anymore. He cared about her being safe and in his care.

“Baby, I’m so sorry about all of this goin’ on. I-I want you safe and I-” She cut him off by grabbing his face, kissing him as hard as she could. Her lipstick staining his lips slightly. He stared down at her while B.B and the girls oooo’d. Annalise knew Elvis was overwhelmed and she knew he wouldn’t tell her that. She was going to be there for him like the good steady she was.

“Come on, Mister Presley,” his eyes seemed to darken,” dance with me why don’t ya?” His hands curled around her waist and she threw her head back in laughter. Their foreheads resting against each other as they danced.

Soon enough she’d find that picture in the paper along with the pair dancing with the others. What Annalise saw was a family and an amazing time. What the world saw was politics. The club started to wind down.

“There are strange things happenin’ everyday.”

Elvis and B.B went to the fire escape and she stayed to help clean up. She swayed to the music but all she could think of was the charity concert. She wasn’t allowed to perform at it after the police said it would put her in ‘danger’. She fought but was ultimately denied. She was told however she could sit in the front or the side by colonel.

“I’m worried, Miss Beth-Ann. I-I don’t know what I’d do if Elvis was put in jail.”

“You fight for him.”

“Fight?”

“You show those little white men who the hell they messed with, baby!”

Annalise nodded and picked up the cups on one of the tables. This was her boyfriend and she would do anything for him. Anything. To the ends of the Earth, Presley.

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@ficsrecsforhrnybitches

[inkykeiji]

all she want is payback for the way i always play that shit

characters: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaah yikes, sorry it’s so long???? the first part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you wont make it back; touya + reader have been fooling around for just under six months, our innocent lil good girl reader is the teeniest, tiniest bit more firm now. jealousy makes people crazy, yk how it is. touya is marginally softer for like, a second or two. | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), public sex, cheating, drug use, generally toxic relationship (possessiveness, jealousy), size difference, dubcon if u squint i guess???, the tiniest bit of cumplay

words: 11k

synopsis:

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

      ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰         

In early February, your parents finally tie the knot.

“Now it’ll be official,” you remember Touya whispering in your ear, the night before. “I will officially be your niichan,”

The wedding is gorgeous—elegant and classy, just like Rei herself. A wintertime wedding is so beautiful, you tell Rei as she’s busy being fawned over by several stylists, adding the finishing touches to her hair and make up. She’s absolutely stunning, a lacy ivory dress clinging delicately to her small frame, accentuating her natural curves. It glitters gracefully in the pale sunshine streaming through the large bay windows, sparkling any time she moves.

Touya doesn’t sit with his family. Their eyes sear into your flesh, although Touya keeps his stare pointedly in front of him, glaring at the alter. But you can feel their gaze on your skin, can feel their eyes travelling up your body slowly, critically, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It makes your skin crawl, both of your hands curling around Touya’s, a tangled knot of fingers resting in your lap.

You’ve never seen his other siblings before. Rei talks about them sometimes, but never when Touya’s around. You know that once every month, the three of them join Rei and your father for a family dinner, but you’ve never had the pleasure of attending.

You’d missed the first family dinner by fluke, held up late at the library studying for midterms. But every occasion after that, Touya had made absolute certain that you weren’t there. You hadn’t thought much of it the first time it happened, too enraptured and tangled up in Touya to care, grinding desperately against him in the backseat of his car as his tongue forced its way down your throat. But then it happens again, and again, and it becomes too coincidental to ignore.

“Why do we never go to those dinners with your siblings?” you’d tried to bring it up subtly the third time you guys skipped out on dinner, heart thudding in your chest and gentle voice quivering slightly.

Touya sighed, raking a hand through his hair roughly, eyes not straying from the road ahead of him. It’s complicated, he told you in a quiet voice, and you were so startled, so shocked by his sheer, unadulterated honesty, that you couldn’t find your voice, rendering you incapable of replying. Touya didn’t bother looking over at you, didn’t need to, to know that his response surprised you.

The other Todoroki’s are all strikingly beautiful—not that you expected any less. The one with pure snow-white hair and gunmetal grey eyes captures your attention the most, looking as if he’s around your age. He smirks at you when he catches your stare, giving you a small, polite nod—though you can see that tiny glint of mischief in his eye, the same glint you’ve seen in Touya’s a thousand times before. Choking on a surprised gasp, you rapidly avert your gaze, eyes snapping back to the pile of hands in your lap.

Touya notices, of course, because Touya notices everything. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand squeezes yours tightly, just a little too tight to be comforting, as his eyes dart to his siblings across the aisle, glare losing most of its heat when it meets his brother’s stare.

Tense shoulders relax, falling slowly with the measured breath he exhales as he turns back to glower at the alter.

You know other guests are staring at you—you can feel their eyes, too. You know the pair of you look more like a couple than siblings, know you should both probably put some distance between yourselves, at least try to keep some semblance of normalcy, some masquerade of a typical sibling relationship.

But Touya’s knee is bouncing, and he seems…unsure. It’s unsettling, really—Touya always seems so confident in himself—and you can almost feel the tense anxiety rolling off of him in heavy waves. So instead of scooting away from him or untangling your hands, your other palm finds a spot high on the thigh pressed tightly against yours, small fingers beginning to knead the flesh.

Sapphire eyes find yours, and he gazes down at you with an odd sense of fondness in his stare, the tiniest smile ghosting across his lips. It makes your chest swell with pride, makes you want to grab his face and crash his lips against yours, forces a tingling warmth to spread through your veins. It shouldn’t, but it does.

He barely lets you leave his side that day, keeps you glued to his body, an arm wrapped tightly around you. He’s a constant, looming, protective presence, glaring at anyone who dares to look at you for more than a second.

“Touya-nii,” you laugh a little while leaving the ceremony, watching as one of your cousins immediately averts their eyes. “That’s my cousin,”

“And I’m your brother,” he says flatly.

You suppose he has a point.

The two of you find your parents and the rest of Touya’s siblings—yours too, now, you guess—standing around a limousine, beckoning you over.

Rei begins to explain their protocol for pictures—and yes, you both have to come—but you aren’t listening. Their eyes are on you again, you can feel them, gliding up your skin, taking sharp note of the way Touya has you pressed flush against him, the way your arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, little fingers twisting in his suit jacket as your heart begins to speed up.

Touya can feel it, too, and he looks down at you in concern, his thumb caressing your shoulder, before he meets the stares of his siblings with a glare so ferocious you’re surprised it doesn’t turn them to ash on the spot.

They offer for you to ride in the limo with the rest of them, Touya cutting them off as he curtly declines their offer—no thanks, you’ll take his car instead and meet them there.

Rei tries to reason with him, but the pointed look he gives her causes her to trail off mid-sentence, holding his eyes for a moment before a sad smile settles on her face, nodding once.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Shinjuku Gyoen is nothing short of stunning in the wintertime. It had snowed this morning, around six AM, blanketing the garden in a soft layer of pure white powder, glittering delicately in the early afternoon sun.

Wide eyes drink it in as your face presses against the glass of the car window, your breath fogging it up. There’s something so whimsical and dreamy about snow, you think, about the way it softens even the sharpest of edges, the way it makes everything look prettier.

“You’re so cute,” Touya remarks, watching you from the corner of his eye, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’ve never been here during the winter,” you murmur in response, still captivated by the grounds.

Rei and your father are immediately whisked away by several photographers to do their photos alone, leaving the rest of you to litter the parking lot.

But the moment they disappear from view, Touya’s got you trapped between his body and the cold metal of his car, lips moving against the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises, things that force soft whimpers from your lips, things that make your legs feel like they’re about to give out as heat pools deep in your belly. He knows, of course, smirks and teases you even more when he feels you squeeze your thighs together helplessly, tells you you’re his perfect little slut and vows to reward you for being so good as soon as he can.

His other siblings are staring, you try to tell him in a quiet, broken whine.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes, pushing his hips harder into yours, practically grinding his hard cock against your waist. “Let ‘em. I bet they’d love to watch me fuck you stupid, huh? What do you think about that, baby? You want them to watch?”

A pathetic sound hitches in your throat and you bury your burning face in his neck, a low, wicked laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

He doesn’t let up on the absolute filth spilling from his mouth until he can hear your father hollering in the distance, calling for the kids and waving the five of you over.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Pictures take too long, and Touya’s antsy by the end of it, picking anxiously at his cuticles as his knee bounces. He’s hauling you out of there the moment you’re officially released, a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You can hear his mother calling for him, and you look back at her desperately, mirroring her worried frown.

He doesn’t even wait for the rest of them to pile into the limo and leave, immediately rooting through his pockets the moment he’s in the safety of his own car, pulling out a little baggie of white powder. He can feel your wide eyes on him, watching his every movement, but his hands are beginning to shake, and panic is starting to rip viciously at his throat, and he just needs it all to fucking stop.

“There’s no way I could endure this shit sober,” he explains as he searches for something in the powder, cursing when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Frantic cobalt eyes dart around the car, landing on the glovebox, and he leans over you, hastily pulling a reflective object from the compartment.

It’s a mirror.

A tiny, circular mirror that he uses to tap out a line, fingers unsteady and breathing slightly laboured. The gentle sounds of his platinum credit card colliding with glass echo throughout the car.

Hovering over the small mirror, he pauses, a finger pressed to his nostril. He almost wants to tell you to look away, almost does, but he knows you’d disobey either way.

He doesn’t like doing drugs in front of you—you’re too precious, too pure and innocent and he doesn’t want you around anything that could potentially tarnish that. But he also can’t stand that look you get in your eyes, almost like you’re scared of him, on the rare occasions that you have caught him.

He nearly snaps at you when you quietly ask if you can help, if he needs someone to hold the mirror steady, currently balancing on the center console compartment, but you’ve got that goddamn look in your eyes, wide and terrified.

No, he says sternly, telling you that he doesn’t even want you near this stuff, much less touching it.

But cocaine highs don’t last long, he explains to you when you ask about the little round white pills clacking together in his pocket. You’re positive he shouldn’t be mixing drugs like that, positive that your apprehension and disapproval are written clearly across your face, based on the simmering look he shoots at you.

Don’t fucking start.

So you don’t. You swallow down your worries and sit nice and pretty and good for him, just like you’re supposed to.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

He only leaves you twice, briefly, throughout the entire night. The first is almost immediately after you enter the reception venue.

Depositing you near the head table, he tells you to stay put before he hurries away. You know where he’s going, what he’s about to do, an odd ache taking root and throbbing deep in your chest.

He’d scold you if he could see you, able to read your expressions like a fucking book, would tell you not to cry for him—he doesn’t need your pity. The words cut through your mind in a snarl, and you work hard to rid your face of the frown marring it; he’s already having such a difficult time today, and the last thing you want to do is upset him more with your concern.

Distraction, you need a distraction. Wide eyes scan the extravagant ballroom, all shimmering golds and beiges and crystal chandeliers, searching in a frenzy for something—anything—to rid your mind of images of pretty boys with inky hair and white, white, white.

You swear you hear your name, then Touya’s, hissed out in a sharp whisper, and your gaze lands on a small group of people not too far from you, with snow and fire for hair—the other Todoroki’s, huddled in a loose circle.

The air around you just feels off, you catch his sister saying in a low but frantic voice, eyes darting between her brothers. She sounds worried about you, you think, and it makes you feel weird. She shouldn’t be worried about you; Touya takes fantastic care of you. It isn’t any of their business anyway, you can almost hear Touya sneering in your head, and he’s right. You know he’s right.

Her brothers don’t look too keen on discussing the subject, especially the youngest, who keeps pulling at his collar and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Well, why don’t you go and tell her that yourself,” the one with white hair says, grey eyes connecting with yours. She whirls around quickly, mouth snapping shut when she finds your face. Her lips morph into a smile half a second later, and she waves you over.

You avert your eyes, hands tangling nervously in front of you. No. You shouldn’t go. You really, really shouldn’t go. Touya told you to stay put, and you can’t bear to think—don’t even want to consider—how furious he’d be if he found that not only had you moved, but you had moved to talk to his siblings.

You must spend too much time deliberating, though, looking back up to find them advancing towards you, only a few feet away. Your heart’s pounding almost violently in your chest, breath accelerating with each step closer.

“Hi,” she’s saying warmly as she reaches you, causing you to subconsciously take a step back. “We haven’t had a chance to meet. I’m Fuyumi,”

You want to say your name, to introduce yourself politely, but your lips are sealed shut, only able to manage a small sound of affirmation.

“Shouto,” the youngest says, cold heterochromatic eyes glancing at you for a moment before looking away. “M’Shouto,”

“I’m Natsuo,” the man with white hair smirks down at you, eyes burning into yours.

Some of your anxiety melts away as you meet his stone eyes; there’s something comforting about the way that he has Touya’s smirk, Touya’s mischievous glint to his gaze, Touya’s playful lilt to his voice.

You feel like you can breathe again when you’re looking at Natsuo, so you keep your stare directed at him as you stutter out your name, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“You always miss the family dinners,” Natsuo accuses with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Y’know, eventually, our parents are going to catch on,”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, chills crawling on your skin. He knows?

And he says it so nonchalantly, so casually, as if he’s discussing the weather and not the fact that Touya deliberately kidnaps you to fuck your brains out in his car every single time they gather for one of those dinners. Fuyumi and Shouto look over at him with brows furrowed in confusion, but you choke on a gasp, coughing a little and nodding.

Touya returns then, saving you from having to respond.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asking immediately as his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you lean on him, heart finally beginning to slow.

“N-Nothing, niichan,” you wrap your arms around his, hugging them to your chest, and he squeezes you in reassurance.

“You sure, baby?” Sapphire eyes search your face as you tilt your head back to look up at him, scanning for any sign of distress.

He shouldn’t be using that pet name here, not in front of his blood siblings, not loud enough that any of the passing guests can hear him with ease.

He shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop it from sending sparks skittering up your spine, heat beginning to coil in your tummy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said you didn’t get some sort of twisted satisfaction at the loud gasp that leaves Fuyumi’s chest, or the sharp intake of breath Shouto chokes on, coughing as he tries to cover it up, all at the drop of that one, simple, four letter word.

Touya loves it, too—you can see it in the way his smirk grows into a full smile, a grin big enough to crinkle the edges of his eyes, can see it in his gaze, in the way his cobalt eyes almost sparkle at their reactions.

Your gaze flits back to the three people standing in front of you—your step-siblings, your mind corrects—eyes gliding over their faces slowly.

Natsuo looks thoroughly entertained, a stupid little grin stretched across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Fuyumi and Shouto, on the other hand, look thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting a little in place, their faces screwed up with poorly masked disgust.

Touya’s smile drops the moment he looks back at them. Azure eyes scan the faces of his siblings cautiously, giving Natsuo one quick, sharp nod of acknowledgment before his gaze lands on the youngest. And the glare Touya gives him is nothing short of terrifying, practically snarling at the boy, a rough, dangerous sound that gets lodged deep in his chest. It makes the boy cower away, shuffling ever-so-slightly closer to his sister, who shakily glares back.

Lips tugging down into a frown, you look up at Touya, forehead creasing in confusion. He’s still glowering at the kid, eyes narrowing just a little before he huffs and turns away, leaving without speaking a word to any of them.

“Don’t you ever talk to them again,” he’s murmuring as he whisks you away, something malicious in his voice. “You’re my little sister,”

You nod obediently, promising him that you won’t, reassuring him that you didn’t even want to as you relay the entire situation. But he can see it, the curiosity swirling in your eyes, a question dancing on your tongue.

Because although Touya appears to be on seriously awful terms with his younger siblings, Natsuo seems to be some sort of exception. From the interaction you just witnessed, you’re able to deduce that something, some line of communication, must be present between Touya and Natsuo, evident in their shared looks and swift, discreet nods.

He sighs, irritation coating his voice as he demands that you spit it out already.

It makes you jump a little, but the words come tumbling out of your mouth the moment he commands them to, powerless to disobey a direct order.

“Does that include Natsuo?”

Your voice is so tiny that he barely hears you, brows knitting together. There’s an odd look in his eye as he observes you—something that isn’t quite jealousy, but close to it—nose twitching a little as he considers.

“Alone, yes,” he finally says. “With me around it’s fine, I guess. But you are not to speak to him alone, do you hear me?”

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Dinner is absolute torture, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off of each other. It starts innocently enough, discreetly enough, with palms on thighs, fingers brushing down arms, hands interlaced under the table. But the need to touch grows, and grows, and grows, these simple actions too teasing to satisfy that dull burning in the pit of your stomach, flaring a little more each time his fingers press into your thigh, or his thumb runs across your knuckles.

And you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t start acting up now, not while the two of you are seated at the head table, looking out amongst the guests—a few months ago, you would’ve never thought to do something so indecent, so dangerous, in such a public place. But you just can’t help it, you’re getting restless now, brain going hazy with thoughts of him as your fingers trail up his thigh and ghost over his lap.

“Getting bold, are we, princess?” his hand catches your wrist, holding your palm in place and grinding up into it. His voice is low, head tipped towards you, sapphire eyes dark. A breath catches in your throat and he smirks, an evil little quirk up of his lips, raising an eyebrow at you in expectation.

You’re lucky they’re seated in a straight line instead of a circle, he murmurs in your ear, Natsuo snickering beside him. “Imagine what your daddy would think if he could see you, acting like such a desperate little slut in front of all of these people,”

A soft, broken moan escapes your lips without your permission, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to combat the heat pooling in your panties. Someone down the line of the table says something, but you’re too enticed by Touya to hear them, your father writing off whatever the remark was with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, those two are always in their own little world,” you hear him dismiss, voice sounding muddled and distant.  

“Be a good girl and sit still,” Touya growls in your ear, grip tightening to near bruising.

“But niichan,” you whine, much too loud, gazing at him with glazed, blown eyes. “Niichan,” you repeat, leaning forward to whimper in his ear, fingers flexing around the bulge in his trousers. “N-Need you,”

“If you can’t behave, niichan won’t let you cum later,” he breathes, though his voice is stern, heavy with the weight of the threat.

A pout forms on your lips as he releases your wrist, firmly placing your hand back in your lap and holding it there for a moment, a silent warning for your wandering fingers to stay put.

But he’s up and out of his chair the instant dinner’s over, moving so quick his seat wobbles a little as he grasps your hand tightly in his, practically yanking you up and dragging you along behind him.

The best thing about these fancy venues, he’s telling you as he strides through the halls, cerulean eyes searching for something, is that they have single person washrooms.

The granite is cold on your cheek as Touya shoves you up against the wall, head bouncing a little as it whacks against it.

You whine and he laughs, a cruel, piercing sound echoing off the walls.

“Aw, baby,” he coos contemptuously. “Did that hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pain radiating through your cheek.

“Poor little thing,” he hisses, lips against your ear as his hands begin to bunch up your dress, gliding over your silk covered thighs, hands fisting in the material as he goes. Pushing it up around your waist, he leans back, hands travelling over the globes of your ass and kneading hard enough to make you cry out.

“You’re a slutty little brat, y’know that?”

Deft fingers hook in the waistband of your thong, all delicate baby pink lace, Touya snickering about how much of a whore you are, wearing such skimpy, slutty panties, as he lets the elastic snap back against your skin.

A little shocked gasp escapes your lips as he begins tugging the dainty fabric down your thighs—you had expected him to merely push them to the side, but he forces you to take them off entirely, stuffing the soaked material in his pocket.

“You think you can just tease niichan like that and get away with it?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head against the wall.

“No,” he murmurs, hips grinding against your bare ass. “Good girls don’t tease their niichans without delivering, do they?”

“No,”

“On your knees,” he orders, spinning you around and stepping back just enough to allow you to sink to the floor. “Get my cock wet,”

Little fingers work quickly, eager to obey, as they undo his pants, practically salivating as you free his cock from its confines.

“Your cock’s so pretty, niichan,” you breathe, eyes glittering with pure, potent desire as you take it in your hands, tongue darting out to trace the prominent veins.

“No teasing,” he growls, a hand knotting in your hair. “I wanna see you choke on it,”

You nod as best you can, mouth instantly falling open, reduced to nothing more than a wet, warm little hole for him to stuff.

And then he’s shoving it down your throat, the hand fisted in your hair holding your head still, and you gag around it almost immediately, working to force you jaw open even more.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he rasps out, voice echoing off the walls of the washroom.

The praise has your heart soaring, has you sucking hard around him as he thrusts into your mouth, coating his cock in thick saliva and desperate to hear more. It’s intoxicating, every quiet moan you manage to pull from him, every breathless good girl that falls from his lips, makes you feel lightheaded and heady and dizzy for more.

His hips pump a few more times before he’s pulling you off his cock completely, devious smirk forming on his lips at your whine of protest, and commanding you to go bend over the sink.

Calloused hands are bunching your dress up around your waist again, toe of his shoe kicking at your inner ankles and forcing your feet further apart.

He doesn’t bother stretching you out, not because he doesn’t have the time to, but because he simply doesn’t want to. It’s truly one of his favourite things, to see tears fill your eyes while his cock stretches your cute little pussy, and he knows you love it too, don’t you?

Yes, niichan, of course you do.

His cock glistens with your saliva, sufficiently wet that it slides in easily enough, with minimal pain for him. And the soft groan he lets out as he watches your little hole struggle to take him, paired with your sweet little whimpers of his name, is nothing short of gorgeous.

It has your pussy fluttering around him, pulling a breathless chuckle from his lips as he fills you to the hilt, hips pressed against your ass.

And then doesn’t fucking move.

Your brow furrows, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You try to fuck yourself back on him, but he’s too quick, hands stilling your hips immediately and tutting in disapproval.

“Niichan,” you whimper. “N-Niichan, please fuck me,”  

“Do you think you deserve it?” he’s asking, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “After the way you behaved at dinner?”

“M’sorry,” you whine, wiggling back against him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stops them, grip tightening. “Couldn’t help it, wanted you so bad,”

“Of course you couldn’t,” he smirks, hips starting to move slowly, teasingly, stilling after only three simple thrusts. A hand reaches down and finds your clit, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb brushes over it, back and forth, back and forth, featherlight grazes that have you arching back into him, trying to press further into his touch.

“Think you can cum just like this for me?” he asks, beginning to thrust shallowly again, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging against that spot buried deep inside your cunt, that spot he knows so well, then nudging your cervix. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, breath starting to come out in short little pants.

“Then do it,” he demands in a whisper, eyes still holding yours. “Show niichan how pretty you look, cumming all over his cock,”

And the combination of his deep, rough voice rumbling against your back as praises tumble from his lips, his thumb and cock, and the fact that anyone within a fifteen foot radius of this washroom could probably hear you, has you cumming within minutes with a sharp cry of Touya-nii!  

Touya laughs at how pathetically quickly you came, about how easy it is to have you creaming on his cock, heat seeping into your cheeks as you try to look away.

“My turn,” he breathes, yanking your head back up by your hair, fingers finding root in the intricate updo that has begun to fall apart. “And I wanna see your face as I fuck you, so keep your damn head up,”

And then he’s slamming into you with enough vigour to propel you forward, face pressed against the mirror, toes barely touching the ground. Every moan and whimper and mewl he forces from your throat fogs up the glass, leaving tiny glistening drops of condensation as they fade.

You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes open, to watch him as he fucks you, because he always looks so damn pretty.  

He’s stupidly attractive, with his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, first few buttons undone and collar popped, revealing his sharp collarbone, smooth ivory skin stretched taut across it. Ebony hair clings to his forehead and neck delicately, coated in sweat, and he’s emitting the most glorious noises, heavy pants and little broken whines, peppered with praise.

Nails bite into your flesh as he holds you in place, hips snapping relentlessly, your fingers curling around the porcelain sink.

“You want niichan’s cum?” he growls in your ear, eyes burning into yours. You whimper in response, nodding against the mirror. “Yeah? Then fucking beg for it.”

Pleads are spilling from your lips immediately, nothing but senseless babbling as he pounds into you.

“Please, niichan, please, need it, your cum, stuff me with your cum,”

“That’s it,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I want every single person in this godforsaken hall to hear you, I want every single person to know how much of—” he cuts himself off with a shuddery curse. “—How much of a slut my baby sister is,”

“Pretty please,” you whine out the words, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fill me up with your cum, niichan, I-I want it,”

His hips still just as your cunt clenches around him, cockhead pressed tightly against your cervix as he fills you with hot, thick ropes of cum.

He pulls out a few moments later, and you uncurl your fingers from around the rim of the sink, wincing at your appearance; lips bitten raw, hair beginning to fall from it’s elegant style, body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You look back at him to find him already staring at you, expectantly, impatiently, hands jittery as he quirks his head towards the door.

“We can’t leave together,” he says, as if it’s obvious, even though you stumbled into the washroom together twenty minutes ago.

He needs more.

You nod, slow and dumb, staggering a little on your trembling legs. Grasping the doorknob you pause, turning to look at him again.

“What?” he asks as he searches through his pockets, not bothering to glance at you. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Um...” you shift nervously from foot to foot, lip caught between your teeth.

He looks over at you sharply, brows rising as if to ask why are you still here?

“M-My panties, niichan,”

Oh.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, brows relaxing.

“What about them?”

“Well, I—I can’t return to the reception without them,”

“Oh, and why not?”

You pause, blinking a few times, at a loss for words. Why not? Because you can feel his cum beginning to trickle out of you, mixing with your juices and dribbling down your inner thigh?

“Exactly,” he says, when you take too long to reply. “Now be a good little girl and go. I’ll be out soon,”

       ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t go back into the ballroom, terrified that you’ll be ambushed by his—your—siblings again. Collapsing in one of the plush chairs, you cross your quivering legs tightly in a desperate attempt to keep the cum oozing out of you from getting on your dress.

People are looking again, probably think you’re drunk based on the way you teetered over to the seat, or the way your hair’s begun to come undone from it’s intricate updo, wispy strands framing your face.

He returns from the washroom only a few minutes later, eyes finding you immediately. There’s a stupid, smug smirk on his face, thinks it’s so cute that he fucked you so good you can’t walk, can’t even get up, that you need your niichan to help you.

A pout forms on your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Not funny,”

“Very funny,” he chuckles as his hands snake under your armpits, hauling you to your feet. You stumble a little, bumping into him and he laughs again, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and propping you up against him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,”

“Oh, niichan,” you murmur and he pauses, glancing over at you. You reach up, your thumb swiping across his nose to collect excess white powder.

“Thanks,” he breathes, winking at you. You hum noncommittally, about to rub your thumb across his white dress shirt to clean it when he catches your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips and licking it instead.

It isn’t discreet. It’s slow and deliberate, tongue sticking out of his mouth, flattening it against your thumb and dragging it up, from base to tip. You’re sure someone saw that, but you can’t be bothered to care, not when another bout of intense heat rushes to your core, forcing you to squeeze your legs together, trying in vain to keep Touya’s cum from seeping out, from your juices traveling down your leg. A soft whimper leaves your lips, breathing beginning to accelerate as your eyes bore into his, now half-lidded and dark. He holds your gaze for a moment before something snaps.

“We need to go,” he says, voice firm with no room for negotiation. “Now.”

And, God, his voice is rough and raw and fucking dripping with desire. It’s got you nodding before he’s even finished speaking, a flock of butterflies invading your stomach at the downright sinful grin he gives you in response. Such a good girl for him.

Despite the fact that you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm, you nearly moan at his look alone, the urge to kiss him burning through your veins and alighting your entire body in direct juxtaposition to the shivers his eyes just sent rippling across your skin. The insatiable need overwhelms your senses, and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, how captivated he has you, entirely wrapped around his slim finger and hanging on his every word, how you’re positive that, in that moment, you’d do anything he asked.

You wobble awkwardly in your heels, legs still shaking and having trouble keeping up with Touya’s swift pace. You’re about to ask him to slow down just a little so you don’t break an ankle, when you bump into your father.

Who just so happens to provide you with the perfect excuse to leave early. You can practically see the gears clicking into place in Touya’s mind, sapphire eyes glittering as a sinister smirk spreads across his face.

Your father’s eyes widen as he observes your appearance, strands of hair sticking to your clammy face and eyes half-lidded, chapped lips beginning to crack, leaning heavily against Touya and seemingly too weak to stand on your own.

“Hi dad,” you greet hoarsely, wincing a little at how grating your voice sounds.

He frowns immediately. “Jesus, sweetheart, are you feeling alright? You look…” he trails off, forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Oh, she’s not feeling too good,” Touya says softly, smoothly, just the right amount of concern and compassion in his tone.

“Oh no,” your father breathes, frown deepening. “That’s terrible,” he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to tough out the rest of the reception?”

You begin to croak out an answer, but Touya speaks over you.

“She’s burning up, sir,” he informs him, and it isn’t a lie—not exactly, anyway. Technically, if your father were to feel your forehead, your body temperature would be above average, a result of Touya fucking the absolute life out of you a mere ten minutes ago.

Touya looks down at you with painfully sympathetic eyes, but you can still see that little glint of mischief, buried under all of that artificial benevolence.

“Maybe I should take her home?” Touya muses, looking back at your father, mimicking his anxiety effortlessly.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “I think that’s the best thing to do,” his eyes dart to yours. “You really don’t look well,”

Oh, you’re sure you don’t. Resting a little more against Touya, you play up the symptoms a bit, whimpering quietly as little fingers twist in his shirt, nuzzling your face against his side. A soft noise of endearment sounds at the back of his throat, large hands readjusting your body to support you better.

Another whimper falls from your lips, but this time it isn’t from pretending you’re ill. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, slimy and cool as it drips down your inner thigh, and a sick thrill shoots through your body, abused cunt throbbing greedily.

Rei comes up behind your father then, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes flitting between the two of you carefully.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna bring this little princess home,” Touya explains, nodding his head at you in indication as he speaks. “She isn’t feeling very well, poor thing,”

And it’s scary, scary how terrific he is at lying, how easily he slips into that niichan role, the one painstakingly crafted and flawlessly maintained around your parents, the one he’s perfected at this point.

Rei doesn’t say much, only cooing in sympathy, remarking that it’s such a shame, but your father’s eyes soften. “Such a good big brother,” he praises, clapping a hand on Touya’s shoulder.

Touya has to consciously work to smother the smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he responds.

“You have no idea,”  

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Your parents don’t come home that night, opting to go straight to the airport from the venue, embarking on their honeymoon immediately.

It’s nice, playing house with Touya, having the entire place completely to yourselves. He’s been home an awful lot these past few weeks, more than he ever has in the past, and you get to experience things you never could before.

Every morning and every night, you cook breakfast and dinner together. You go grocery shopping together, wash the dishes together, fold the laundry together, all while stealing kisses in between; little domestic things you didn’t really do with your parents around.

You spend every night that they’re away in his bed, being fucked into his mattress, surrounded by the smell of him—campfire and Marlboros and expensive cologne—absolutely full of him in every sense.

You wake up in the mornings with his hand between your legs, playing with your cute little clit, or his cock pressed against your ass, grinding until you wake up. You have sleepy, slow morning sex while you’re both still half asleep, and it’s the most gentle he’s ever been. It consists of lazy, sloppy, messy thrusts against each other, hips meeting halfway—just grinding until he gets too impatient, though he usually lets you cum two or three times before he finally flips you over, trapping you under his body and slamming his hips into you, growling and grunting, your legs pushed up and folded on either side of you.

You get to fuck in the kitchen—not that you hadn’t before, but this time you get to take it slow. He eats you out while you sit on the counter and then fucks you into oblivion and it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, it’s so good. He cums so much that it’s leaking out of you, onto the counter, his chest heaving as he observes it with an odd little smile and a soft “fuck,”

And you get to fuck in the bathtub, that big jacuzzi in your parents room, water and bubbles sloshing around as you bounce on his cock, loud cries echoing off the walls.

It’s going great, until the last weekend of the honeymoon, a mere few days before your parents are supposed to return.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

A party.

Keigo tries to talk him out of it, tries to at least talk him out of letting you stay.

“She shouldn’t be here,” you hear Keigo hiss under his breath as guests begin to fill the house, Touya snorting in retort.

Keigo doesn’t think you should be around any of this at all—there’s no reason you should have to witness this shit, you catch him growling, gold eyes blazing. No, not a poor innocent babygirl like you, this isn’t the place for you.

But Touya’s too stubborn, too selfish to let Keigo take you out for the night. He knows he’s right, would rather not have you around these people, but he doesn’t have a fucking choice. The thought of you being out of his sight, out with another man, has anxiety rising in his throat, panic clawing at his chest.

As a result, you spend the entirety of the party being passed between Touya and Keigo. There are so many girls here, so many people you don’t know, wide eyes scanning the living room as your fingers twist in Keigo’s hoodie.

Niichan’s busy, Touya tells you, when you ask why you can’t just stay with him, when you ask where he keeps disappearing off to. Niichan’s working, don’t you know? Be a good girl and stay with Kei.

You can tell that Keigo isn’t happy about it. He coos softly when you timidly ask if he’s upset that he’s stuck babysitting you all night, in the middle of an apology when he cuts you off.

“It isn’t your fault, songbird,” he murmurs, gentle fingers tracing the curve of your face.

He’s even angrier at Touya when he takes that first girl back to his room, because the look on your face—the way it crumples accompanied by a soft, hurt sound caught at the back of your throat—kills him.

And it isn’t like you don’t know about his side whores. You do. They’re customers, he had snapped at you, the only time you had ever asked about it. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually have to witness it with your own eyes.

You can’t help the flare of jealousy that rises in your chest every time he takes a girl by the hand and leads them to his bedroom. It stings, burns, feels like a fire’s been lit in your chest, filling your lungs with dense smoke and making it hard for you to breathe.

Keigo tries his best to distract you, gentle fingers on your cheeks turning your face towards him, golden eyes softening in sympathy. He keeps you as preoccupied as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Your eyes are drawn to Touya every time he’s in the room—an automatic, instinctual reaction you couldn’t control even if you wanted to.

And every time you watch a girl giggle into his ear, or hop up with him, that fire smoldering in your chest blazes, rages, has you wheezing and hissing and pressing a palm flat against yourself, a desperate attempt to get the pain to stop.

Tomura’s here, too, though he’s sitting in a shrouded corner on his phone, the light from the screen reflected on his pale face, colours flashing intermittently. He looks absorbed with whatever he’s doing on there—probably playing a game, Keigo tells you, but why are you interested, anyway?

You don’t know, you aren’t sure, you can’t exactly put it into words. He terrifies you, but he sparks a morbid curiosity in you, too. He’s so silent, private, almost inobtrusive; and yet Touya never lets you anywhere near him. Your eyes keep flitting his way, as if trying to will something to happen, staring at him longingly and hoping he’ll look up from his phone for a split second and catch your gaze, that he’ll somehow magically get the hint that you’re desperate and dying to talk to him, and take the first step.

But it doesn’t happen.

Touya is thoroughly unimpressed each and every time he finds you sitting on Keigo’s knee or lap, leaning back against his chest as he speaks with that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, but there isn’t much he can do. The third time he returns to take you from his friend he can tell you’re beginning to get tired, can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re cuddling into a warm chest. He debates sending you to bed right then and there, but you protest, little hands tangling in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Aw, she’s alright for a little more, isn’t she?”

Touya’s sharp jaw clenches twice and he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes darting between your faces.

“Fine,” he says, although it doesn’t seem fine.

And you are exhausted, straddling Keigo’s hips, face pressed into his shoulder and hot breath evening out softly against his neck. Fingers ghost up and down your spine nonchalantly as Keigo talks softly to the people around him, his laugh vibrating against your chest and filling you with an odd, tingly sensation, a warmth that seeps through your body. You snuggle a little closer to him and he coos, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t wanna go to bed with him,” you whisper, words muffled by his skin.

Keigo hums in question, squeezing you once. “Who, songbird?” he presses his lips to your ear as inconspicuously as he can, lidded gold eyes lazily scanning the room for your brother. “Touya?”

You nod sluggishly, little fingers curling in his hoodie, a silent plea not to let you go.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Keigo says softly with a small chuckle, but it sounds off to your ears—sad, even.

“Don’t wanna,” you repeat, pout evident in your voice. “Wanna stay with you,”

You wouldn’t have noticed the way his chest hitches at those four words if you weren’t pressed flush against it. But you feel it, feel his breath getting caught in his throat, reverberating against you as he clears it quietly. Unexpected guilt sours your mouth, makes your stomach turn to a block of heavy lead, weighting your body down.

“You know you can’t, sweetheart,” he finally responds, voice cracking just a bit, right on that last word. “Don’t hurt your niichan like that, he loves you,”

No he doesn’t, you want to say, but you can’t seem to force the words from your mouth, opting to shake your head instead, eyes shutting tightly against the burn of tears.

“He does,” Keigo says, more sternly this time. “Don’t doubt that,”

But you’re not so sure. If Touya loved you—really loved you—would he have disappeared no less than three times tonight, each with a different girl, leading them into his bedroom with those dark glittering sapphire eyes while they gaze up at him like he hung the fucking moon himself?

Honestly, is that even a question you want answered?

You keep your face buried in Keigo’s chest to block it out, to keep yourself from watching your big brother as he flits around the room, handing out discreet baggies in exchange for ridiculous wads of cash and talking in hushed voices, in code, to men who look much too old to be at a house party.

Eventually, Touya returns to retrieve you, bending down and speaking softly.

“It’s time for bed, princess,” A hand pets your head, and you flinch away.

“Hey,” you feel the couch dip beside you as he sits down. “Look at me,”

You’re shaking your head, trying in vain to press even closer to Keigo, but that doesn’t stop Touya from reaching out and gripping your chin, forcing you to face him.

Crystal eyes search your face carefully, wide and alert—he always works sober, you found out. He can tell you’re upset, can see it written plain as day across your face, eyes glassy with your lips set in a deep pout, eyebrows pushed together. Exhaling harshly, he closes his eyes, fingers rubbing at his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he says lowly, wrapping a hand around your bicep and tugging as he stands.

“No,” you nearly growl, shaking your head and viciously pulling your arm from his grip.

Touya stares at you for a moment, like he cannot believe you just had the audacity to tell him no, before he speaks, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What did you just say?”

Keigo’s sitting up straighter now, more alert as your body subconsciously curls into his chest, cowering away from your big brother. “Y-You heard me,”

Snorting in disbelief, Touya raises his eyebrows as his tongue runs along the front of his teeth, huffing out the remnants of a chuckle before his smile drops completely, blue fire blazing in his dark eyes.

“Get up,” he snarls, hand in a vice grip around your arm as he yanks harshly. The force of it has you practically falling off Keigo’s lap, though Touya catches you roughly before your knees hit the hardwood, hoisting you up by your arm to stand on unsteady feet.

“Move.” He instructs, giving you a shove in the vague direction of his bedroom. “Now.”

His chest bumps into your back and you stumble forward, yelping softly. He keeps pushing like this, strong hand clasping your shoulder so tightly you’re sure you’ll have five little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints in the morning, driving you to walk with the sheer force of his body.

“No,” your whispering, trying desperately to turn back and look at him as you approach his door, tears flooding your eyes, frantically shaking your head and trying your damnedest to plant your feet, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to stop him from pushing you forward.

“You really gonna say no to me a second time tonight? In less than fifteen minutes? You think that’s wise, baby?”

You don’t—of course you don’t. It’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do, in this situation.

But even though you know, know this isn’t a smart move, know you shouldn’t be testing him like this—challenging him like this, especially in front of so many people—you’re powerless to control the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s been infested by your whores,”

They come out as a hiss—you don’t mean for them to, but they do, voice quivering under the combined weight of your fury and fear.

That gets him to stop, entire body going rigid. Icy dread rushes through your veins, panic clawing its way up your throat, forcing uneven breaths through your parted lips. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you brace yourself for the impact of his bellowing voice, shoulders tensing in anticipation for the blow, for him to really snap.

Except then he starts laughing, his hand relaxing around your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he backs you up against his bedroom door, caging you in with his body.

“That’s what this is about?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you blink twice in disbelief, prompting hot tears to finally spill over. “I—Wh-Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being silly, princess,”

It hurts, stings like three massive spikes just shot through your heart, causes a tiny whimper to sound from deep in your throat, chest hiccupping with pathetic little half-sobs.

“Sil…Silly?” Time feels as if it’s slowed, your sluggish brain having trouble comprehending the situation unfolding.

His lips pull down into a frown, eyes narrowing slightly as he regards you with extreme precision. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds far away, muffled, like you’re underwater and he’s speaking to you from above the surface. “Hey—”

Your head’s shaking again, in slow, delayed motions from side to side. “No,” you whisper. “No.”

You feel nauseous, and the proximity of his presence is only making it worse, making you feel like you could hurl at any moment. Little hands find purchase on his chest and push, stomach lurching painfully as your head spins.

He catches your wrists easily, holding them together in one large hand, his other coming to grip your chin and force you to look at him.

Thick silence settles between the two of you as Touya’s eyes study your face slowly, noting the tears flowing steadily down your face, the way your breath stutters with sobs you’re so desperately trying to hold back, the way your entire body trembles.

“Are you seriously upset over this?” he asks, laughing a little.

Your gaze holds his, tears casting a thick, gleaming screen across your eyes.

“Yes, Touya,” you whisper, wishing your voice didn’t sound as small and weak as it does. “I’m seriously upset,”

That’s the first time you’ve used his first name—just his first name, void of any honorific—in a long, long time.

It gets him to pause again, his usual and well-worn mask of passivity melting away for just a second as shock crosses his face. Then his features are hardening again, brows knitting together and creasing his forehead, eyes narrowing into near slits.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he spits harshly, the words cutting into your flesh. “You know none of them mean a thing,”

“Then why do you fuck around with them?” you shoot back almost immediately, voice fading into a whisper.

He glares at you, as if you’re wasting his precious time with such childish questions when he’s told you this already, and you can see the blue fire simmering in his eyes.

“It’s late,” he says curtly, voice sounding off to you. “You need sleep.”

You try to fight him on it, but he’s too quick, reflexes too swift, and he shoves you into his room, door slamming shut less than a second later.

Tears obstruct your vision as you stumble around, finally finding his desk chair and collapsing heavily. You don’t even bother trying to open the door, know it’s locked without having to hear that soft click! as the lock turns into place.

He’s right—it is late, well past three in the morning, and you are utterly exhausted, drawing your knees up to your chest and curling up in the plush chair.

But no matter how tired you are, you absolutely refuse to sleep in his bed. The party’s dying down, you can hear Touya’s muffled farewells as guests begin to leave while you fade in and out of consciousness.

You think you might’ve heard Keigo say something, might’ve caught the word stay, might’ve detected the annoyance laced in Touya’s voice as he responds, but you’re too worn out to reflect on it.

At some point in the night, Touya reenters his room, chuckling a little at your antics and carrying you to his bed.

The move wakes you, and you weakly protest—no, you don’t want to be in this bed, please, just let you go sleep in your own bed—but Touya ignores you entirely, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tightly to his chest.

It’s then that the tears start up again, salt staining your puffy cheeks, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he hushes you, nimble fingers combing through your hair. “I’m here, right here,”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Touya over these past few weeks, it’s that he becomes marginally softer in the middle of the night. Your fingers twist in his t-shirt, trying in vain to pull yourself impossibly closer, Touya making a soft noise akin to a coo in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you, niichan’s got you,”

You hate it. You hate that he’s the only person you want comforting you right now, as you lay in his bed, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume and clinging in desperation to him, needing him close, needing his body heat warming you and his hands on you. You hate the way your sobs come harder the more he soothes you, the heavy ache in your chest almost bruising, crushing your lungs and making it near impossible to breathe.

But you crave his comfort nonetheless. It’s a special kind of comfort, one that’s difficult to describe, one that only comes from the love and adoration and protection of a big brother.

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

There’s something in his voice that makes you stop, pause, his words reverberating in your mind. He sounds almost like…like he’s upset over this fact, like he wishes that you didn’t have all of him.

You want to press for more, to probe and prod and pick away at it, but exhaustion finally claims you, rendering you incapable of speech, your tongue moving sluggishly in your mouth as you desperately try to form words.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s grey when you wake, only a few hours later, eyes sticky and dry from lack of sleep. Your head is pounding, feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, and a painful lump forms almost immediately in your throat when you get a whiff of sickly sweet artificial vanilla, then another of intense, synthetic citrus.

The tears are starting up again, collecting in your eyes and clouding your vision. It makes you nauseous, makes your skin crawl and your chest burn as your throat fills with acid. The tears sting, but you blink hard to keep them at bay. You will not cry, not in front of him, not in his bed surrounded by the remnants of those other girls, not again. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

You spring up quickly, halfway through climbing over Touya’s body when a strong hand latches onto your wrist.

“No,” Touya mumbles, face half buried in his pillow. “Stay,”

“No,” you whisper, pulling yourself free from his grasp and hurrying out of his room. You can smell them on your clothes, on your skin, and it makes you want to scrub your body under scalding water until it’s raw.

Everything hurts—it hurts so much it feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, like you can’t breathe, gasping for air as you stumble onto the porch, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stop and realize you have nowhere to go.

Touya has cut you off from all of your friends at this point; any spare time you had was now claimed by him.

And that’s exactly why he doesn’t bother rolling out of bed to follow after you, isn’t worried about you going anywhere, knows you can’t leave him, no matter how badly you want to. No, not a precious little girl like you, with nowhere to find refuge.

You sit down heavily on one of the front steps, vision so blurry with tears you’re barely able to make out the figure advancing towards you. They’re finally escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you blink twice, trying to clear them. Your chest stutters under the force of a sob you’re desperately trying to hold back, clapping both hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence it.

“Hey—oh no,” Keigo breathes the moment your watery eyes look up at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to leak out as your shoulders shake, whole body trembling from the force of your sobs, poorly muffled by your palms.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he’s saying as he rushes to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders tightly.

Keigo’s the closest thing you have to a friend now. And really, you should be embarrassed by the way you practically fling yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your hands form fists in his t-shirt. He’s a little startled by your borderline violent reaction, but he recovers quickly, arms encircling your body and pulling you against him.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing your back while the other pets your hair. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here,”

And you hate the way his words almost directly mirror Touya’s, the way his low sultry voice turned gentle and soft as he carded deft fingers through your hair echoing almost painfully in your head. But Keigo lets you cry, lets you stain his t-shirt with salty tears and saliva until you’ve got nothing left, never stopping his compassionate motions.

“You…Stayed the night?” you pull back a little, the fact that he’s still here, blonde hair all mussed up from sleep, finally dawning on you.

“Well, yeah,” he says, a little bashful as he looks away and ducks his head. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, s’all. Last night was…” he trails off, frowning. “What happened?”

Golden eyes search your face, his forehead crinkling in concern. A beat of silence passes.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…” kind fingers move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll feel better if you let it out, promise. And, not to brag or anything, but I’m preee-tty good at this kind’a stuff,” he chuckles a little.

“Got in a fight,” you whisper, eyes staring intently at the brick wall behind his shoulder as your chin trembles slightly, memories of last night flashing through your mind.

“A fight? With Touya?” Keigo moves his head a little, forcing his face into your field of vision and catching your face with tender fingers when you try to look away.

“Yeah,” tears are beginning to well up in your eyes as you think about it, the sheer fact that you’re in a fight making your heart feel like it’s ripping itself to shreds. A chaotic storm of emotions brews in your chest, switching mercilessly and swirling together so quickly that you can’t even tell what they are. Your insides feel all jumbled up, and trying to decipher what the heck’s going on only makes your head ache more.

They torment you, a deep sense of anguish finally settling at the core. You’re confused, livid at Touya for being such a jackass; jealous, because you want him all to yourself; heartbroken, because you want—need—his approval, desperate to hear him tell you that you’re his good little baby girl.

You want to be his good little baby girl.

But it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Get used to it, he had told you once, when you had complained about something so silly, so simple as him eating the last ice cream cookie sandwich (he made it up to you, of course, telling you he wanted to taste your cream—such a cheeseball—and making you cum three times before taking you out to buy more).

No, it isn’t fair, but you don’t care. You want him to be yours, too.

Keigo tsks, bringing your attention back to him, mouth set in a hard line as sad eyes watch you. “What was it about?”

“I-It…H-He—” a shuddery breath cuts you off, and Keigo draws you into his arms, holding you against his chest as the sobs start up again, sobs that make it feel like your body’s about to tear apart, desperately clutching Keigo to try and keep yourself together.

“Oh, songbird,” he coos, rocking you gently. “Is it…Um, the other girls?”

“Yes,”

“But you know you’re his favourite, right?”

“D-Does it even matter, if he’s still fucking them anyway?” you ask, pulling back suddenly as hot anger flashes through you. “Why does he need them? Am I—” a sob cuts you off, but you swallow it, persevering. “Am I not good enough?” your voice breaks on the last word, fading into a whisper, big teary eyes scanning his face almost frantically, seeking an answer in his expression.

Keigo blinks, surprised by your sudden brashness, then gives you a small, sad smile. “Only he can answer that, sugarplum,” he whispers, using the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear and wipe it across your cheekbone. “But just because he’s fucking around, doesn’t mean that you can’t, too,”

Your head tilts to the side, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Keigo shrugs, leaning back a little. “He definitely deserves it, for making an angel such as yourself so upset,”

You sniffle a little, wiping at your nose with the paw of your sweater as you consider the prospect.

“Y’know, it technically isn’t cheating, since you guys aren’t in any sort of official relationship to begin with,” Keigo reminds you gently, nudging just a tiny bit more.

It isn’t right—you know it isn’t. You’ve never been one to fight fire with fire, often preferring to avoid conflict and drama, but you’re so hurt; you’re so angry at him—angry at the way he reacted, as if it was you in the wrong, angry at the fact that he doesn’t even seen to care about your feelings on the issue, because he knows you’ll come running back either way, angry because he’s right, as evident in the way pathetically clung to him last night—that all you want to do in that moment is cause him a shred of the pain he’s causing you.

It’s an impulsive decision that has you pulling out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts, thumb jabbing at Tomura’s name—Touya had given you his number for emergencies only—before you have time to think it through, before you have time to regret it.

Tiny thumbs fly across the keyboard, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline accelerates your breathing.

Hey. Let’s hang out.

Keigo inhales through his teeth next to you, and your eyes dart to him in surprise, as if you had forgotten he was there.

“Well,” he begins, though his voice sounds odd to you—unlike his usually nonchalant, happy-go-lucky manner. “That’s, uh, definitely one that’s gonna hurt him, songbird,”

You look back down at your phone to see Tomura typing a response.

Yeah, definitely. Pick a day.

“Good.”

[chellestrash]

Change of plans

Ethan Sawyer x gender neutral reader 

Summary: You decide to reconsider your evening plans with Ethan after waking up to the cabin completely covered in snow.

Warning: none, just some spicy stuff at the end but its mostly nothing

Word count: 1.3k

AN: Im not completly sure if i like this one but i figured its better than nothing...and i missed Ethan and really wanted to take part in the event.

We’re snowed in.”

You let out a quiet whine before rolling over on the bed to lay on the other side, facing the direction Ethan’s voice is coming from before finally cracking one eye open.

„What?”

You ask, giving in to a heavy yawn and giving up on your initial attempt to sit up on the bed.

Watching him stand in front of the big glass door leading out to the balcony, you blink slowly and feel yourself falling back asleep.

„We're snowed in.”

He repeats after your question and you frown. Sleeping feels like the best possible option right now and Ethan clearly doesn’t understand your determination to get a bit more of it in before you’ll inevitably have to get out of bed to start your day.

You grunt and throw the covers off before stumbling out of bed and walking over to stand next to him by the window.

„Oh yeah.”

You smile to yourself softly as you're now able to take in the entire view. The previously green and grassy field now completely white, covered in untouched snow, maybe except those few places where you can make out some deer tracks left by the animals through the night. The trees surrounding the clearing all bending down slightly under the weight. Everything just looks so calm, so peaceful almost like, asleep?

You haven’t seen this much snow fall down over one night in a while, and you quickly realize you also haven’t seen Ethan's cabin covered in snow before. You feel the motivation to do literally anything today slowly leave your body as you feel his big arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

You hum softly, feeling his lips on the side of your neck before blinking slowly and turning to face him with a little smile.

„It looks so pretty.”

You mumble sleepily, and he breathes out a little laugh, watching you struggle to stay awake.

„Almost as pretty as you, huh?”

„Ohhh my god, Sawyer.”

You laugh softly and pull his face closer to you.

„What? What did I do?”

„Nothing.”

You glance up at his eyes and then down to his lips before pulling him into a gentle kiss, he pulls away only to peck at your lips again, and again and again. Only after he feels you smile against his lips, he loosens the grip around you and takes a little step back.

„Someone’s sleepy.”

He points out, and you shrug before making your way back to the bed.

„Someone woke me up.”

You explain as you get back into bed, after deciding that the cold, snowy air hitting your exposed thighs is definitely a bit too much for you right now.  

„So what are we gonna do?”

You ask after you settle back under the thick, warm, white covers. You watch him turn back to face the window again, hands propped on his hips as he analyzes the possible options.

„No idea.”

You snort and pull one of the thick blankets over the covers to make sure you’ll stay warm.

„You think the car’s gonna work?”

You ask, burying yourself under all the layers.

„I don't think so, definitely not now.”

He answers after cracking the big window open a bit to check the temperature.

„Should’ve parked inside yesterday.”

He turns to face you and immediately shuts the window close after noticing your „seriously?!” expression.

„I'm sorry, baby.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, scooting over to the side of the bed, reaching your arm out to grab his big, gray hoodie off of the floor. The freezing cold morning air effectively increases your need to stay in bed the entire day. You grunt, unable to reach the desired piece of clothing.

„What do you think we should do about the party then?”

He asks, walking over to your side of the bed.

Damn it.

You think to yourself, realizing, you completely forgot about Ethan's work Christmas party. You watch as he picks up the hoodie, and smiles softly when he hands it over to you.

„Thank you.”

You whisper and quickly pull the tick fabric over your head. Pulling the strings to tighten the hood around your face, you notice Ethan still watching you, waiting for an answer.

„Oh, ummm, the party?”

You start and he nods.

„I mean, It's supposed to get warmer today, I think it’ll just melt throughout the day.”

„It might not.”

You point out, very obviously trying not to meet his eyes.

„No, I'm, I'm pretty sure it will.”

He nods, leaning back to glance out the window again, and then turns his head back to you. He watches for a moment as you look around the room for something, throwing the covers up and checking under the pillows.

„What do you need?”

„Socks.”

You continue your search, hoping that maybe you won’t have to leave the bed to actually go get a pair from the other side of the room. Ethan gets up from the bed and makes his way over to the closet, he quickly picks out a pair of big fuzzy socks before handing them to you.

„Here.”

You smile at him again and pull them over your feet before burying yourself under the covers for the final time. You let your body relax finally after the long battle with cold air and sigh in relief before glancing over at Ethan sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

„You don't want to go?”

He finally asks.

„What made you think that?”

You answer quietly, and he can't help but chuckle at the scene in front of him. The only part visible, sticking out of the covers or not shielded by the tick hood where your nose and eyes, he could barely make out your little innocent smile.

„Come on, baby.”

He chuckles, slowly leaning down over you before finally letting himself lay down on top of your body. You grunt softly, feeling the weight of his body and more importantly, the heat. You pull your arms out from under the covers and wrap them around his neck, moving your one hand higher to the soft curls on the back of his head. His face resting at the nape of your neck as he lets out a deep sigh.

„I just don't know if being stuck in a room full of cops is the best way to spend the evening, you know?”

He snorts, the air hitting your skin tickles the slightest bit, and you smile softly when he lifts his head up to look at you.

„What's it gonna be, deputy?”

He doesn't give you a proper answer, instead he just rests his head back on your shoulder, relaxing into the gentle touch of your fingers brushing through his dark curls.

„We could do whatever you want.”

You whisper after a moment, your lips brushing over his ear before you press a couple of kisses to the side of his face, your hand quickly moving down between his legs. You laugh when he immediately lifts his head up.

„Don't.”

He warns you, and you try to look as innocent as possible.

„Didn't do anything.”

„Mhmm.”

He looks down at you, one eyebrow raised slightly, and you watch as he licks his lips slowly. You can tell he's considering it.

„Come oooonnn.”

You cup his face gently and pull him closer to you, pressing another kiss to his lips. You feel him kiss back almost immediately, tilting his head to the side to push his tongue past your lips. You feel him prop himself up to lean over you, his knee now between your legs and his hand pushing under the hoodie and shirt you're wearing, higher and higher up to your chest. He pulls away for a second, taking a deep breath in and shaking his head slightly.

„What's the decision, Deputy?”

You whisper, reaching out to palm his cock through his sweats again. He grunts from the touch and sighs loudly before leaning down to get close to you again.

„I'll think about it, but’ll remember that whatever you want.”

You raise your eyebrow, not letting him feel like he's completely in charge.

„Good. I was hoping you would.”

________________

thank you @chelseasdagger​ for proofreading!

[darkcitiesnluv]

Shy/DOM Boyfriend Sunghoon × Kinky Fem Reader (ft Jungwon)

Pairing: Sunghoon x Reader (You)

Genre: smut, fluff, funny?

Warnings: smut 18+

___________________________________________________

" Sunghoon! at seven come to my house, my parents and my younger brother aren't going to be here! " You said excitedly on your phone clutching it tightly.

" Jungwon won't be here? YESS! I'm glad if sees me alone with you he'll karate kick me on the stomach, hehe" Sunghoon chuckled at other side of the line. His big smile was so bright as he talked to you.

" He does taekwondo not karate" you responded to him feeling warm inside to hear him again after a whole month without him.

" Isn't the same thing?..... anyway....I'll be there in a hour, bye love" he ended the call. You squeaked in a mixture of shyness and excitement because he called you love.

" I'm seeing him again...." You sighed. Sunghoon and you started dating a month ago, but because school was over he went in vacations with his family so you couldn't see him for two weeks. But you missed him sooo much, his lips, his hands, his hair,his delicious smell of cologne, his everything.

You couldn't wait to do it again with Sunghoon. Yes Sunghoon and you already lost each others virginity together. Both of you very shy and embarrassed about every single thing. You two even watch a little bit of porn to educate yourself a little. At that time Sunghoon was not really into the idea of watching it since he isn't interested in that kind of stuff and finds it wrong to watch. However you convinced by telling him you two are not doing anything wrong besides learning! That it was for you two only and that'll it'll be the last time watching it.

Well......you two did it....and you were even shock because it didn't look or felt like it was his first time. He just did a great job, still feeling shy at first but as he was getting sexually aroused by you he became confident and turn the bedroom into a fair. You want that again for the third time.

Why are you even counting the times you two did it?

The last two times you did it with him were incredible, it was kind of a vanilla sex and rough vanilla sex all the way but you like it because you loved the after care from him. Now you felt spicy it up a little.....or more. There is so many things you wanna try with Hoonie but you're scared to tell him about your naughty fantasies. What if he thinks you're a sexual freak?

Sunghoon is a very conservative boy, that's how he grew up like with his family. He is a respectful, conservative,and a gentle young men who is quiet a romantic when he feels likes, and really isn't thinking about anything naughty to do.....unless if it's with his secret girlfriend; YOU.

You're going to try to ask him anyway.

You run to your closet and pull out a box that was hidden underneath piles of clothes. There, the black and red lingeries you bought from a friend laid nicely and pretty inside the box.

" Which one should I wear? The red or black" you mumbled to yourself as you check them with your eyes. " Sunghoon likes the color black a lot, and he looks good in black too......the black one wins!" You mumbled excitedly to yourself.

Quickly you exchange your normal undergarments to the black sexy lingering that'll be under your normal clothes. A grey tank top, with a lighter grey jacket kind of zipped up to the top but stops in the middle of your chest and dark grey very comfortable shorts that is quiet short for you. To night you had a plan to seduce him.

After changing you quickly went to the kitchen and prepare snacks to watch a movie with him.

" Pop corn, chips, Pocky sticks..." You said as you put them on the mini table in the middle of the living room.

" I need to stop thinking about Hoon I'm getting all hot and bother" you licked your bottom lip and chuckled quietly while flapping your hands against the air towards you.

*Knock knock knock*

" My man is here!" You jumped from the couch and open the door.

" Baby!"

" Babe!"

You jumped to hug him tight, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso. You kissed him all over his handsome face. Oh how much you missed this smart idiot.

" Oh my, you really missed me a lot huh?" He asked as he try to push his face away from your kisses because he wants to look at you. He smack your butt lightly as he usually does when he sees you. You got down and hold one if his hands.

" You really look handsome today" you said as you check him out while bitting your bottom lip right in front of him. Sunghoon laughed quietly with blushing cheeks. He held your face and kiss your forehead then peck your lips. " I know babe...hehe....how about you?...you look too sexy today?" He raised an eyebrow to you while his eyes linger on your short shorts, but not in a lusty way but more like his questioning on his mind why are you wearing tooo short shorts? It's cold in your house?

You blush a little since you always felt s little nervous or intimidating by a certain look of expression he made when he looked at you and you always found it so attractive.

" I'm not looking sexy at all today, what are you talking about? Sunghoon ah! Come here with me, tell me about your field trip" you pull him down to sit with you on the couch and he followed you.

He sat next to you, his elbows against his almost separated knees, both of his hands clutch together in front of him. He had his torso lean down a little. This is how he usually sits, and once again you find it super attractive, because for you he was expressing his masculinity so much. Just everything about him was attractive and it was one of the reasons why you fell in love with him.

" It was pretty fun until....my step aunt had an accident and fell from the pole she was dancing on....she hurt herself badly" he said in a very serious yet sad tone as pressed both of his lips together and just stare out in space.

You suddenly let out a laugh and immediately covered your mouth. Sunghoon looked at you but then smile and his whole body was paying attention towards you. " Why are you laughing?" He quietly chuckled.

" I'm sorry babe but you just said your aunt fell because she was dancing...on a pole?"

" Yeah- i didn't explain the situation well, she was very drunk that night in the club, she got crazy or high and got up on stage and started dancing you know....sexy? In a sexy way? ....and well she missed a step and fell down...... that's what her boyfriend told us...." He said as he try to control his smile because he didn't want to laugh in such a accidental situation.

You no longer cared and just let it all out. " My prince i missed you so much!" You suddenly got up and freely fall on top of him perfectly. Because of your fall, Sunghoon's back leaned against the couch.

" I missed you too- princess-" he try to said but you kept kissing his lips and then on his neck. " So needy aren't you?" He laughed as he try to push you away from him. " Oh? What about the snacks? Are we going to watch a movie?" Sunghoon asked curiously as he notices the snacks there.

" There's a more delicious snack right in front of me" you said admiring his beauty and his precious smile. Sunghoon smiled as he caressed your cheek with his hand softly. "Princess, you're a delicious snack too....." He said with an embarrassing look. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. " What? Park Sunghoon is that you? You wouldn't say something like that to me?" You tease him. Sunghoon suddenly sat up , with you still on top of him straddling him. " What? You started it!! ' there's a more delicious snack right in front of me'" Sunghoon mimicked your voice making you laugh and lightly hit him on his chest. "Park Sunghoon!!" You shout.

" Yang Y/n!" He shout back, both of you laughing hard.  " Tell me what is that you want princess?...." He asked with a shy smile as his hands caressed up and down your sides to show affection but YOU couldn't control down there from not burning up, but it was getting harder as Sunghoon still gaze at you.

" Sunghoon.....can we make.....love?" You asked a little shy about it but still manage to look at him confidently.

Sunghoon raised both of his eyebrows and widen his eyes. " I don't know why I'm acting surprised, I kind of had the idea from you " he smirked with a grin.

You look back at him as your eyes stare at his quiet plump red lips. Sunghoon was like the male version of snow white: jet black hair, a pretty pale complexion of skin, dark beautiful eyes and natural red or pink plumpy lips. He lips look kissable and felt kissable.

" I'm so lucky to have you, not just because of your handsome appearance but just you, yourself is perfect!" You sincerely said as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Sunghoon smiled as he heard that. He hug you tightly and whispered in your ear. " You're perfect as well my princess.....this month we spend together you've been a really good girl.... should I reward you?" He asked. You widen your eyes as you hear those words from the shy Sunghoon you know.

While Sunghoon on the other side he was controlling his smile by pressing his lips together and closing his eyes tight looking away from you. 'oh my god! Sunghoon!! wasn't that too much!? You probably sounded soo cringe! What is Y/n going to think of you, loser!' Sunghoon thought.

You bit your bottom lip as turn to look at him. " Please reward me......I deserve it...." You said innocently. Sunghoon looked at you surprised probably not expecting you to say anything back. He sighed as he suddenly push you away from him against the couch. He straddle your hips, his hands clutching on your wrists to the sides.

" Let's go to your room.....are you sure your parents aren't coming?...." He asked as he hold you like a bride and made his way to your room.

'ok ok! My confidence is doing a good job again!' he thought.

Just for teasing he throw you on the bed. You immediately pull him by his neck. Lips touching starting a heated make out session. You run your hands everywhere, from his face to his body trying to feel him through his clothes. Sunghoon did the same as he caressed one of your thighs. With his veiny hands force your legs to spread apart so he can lean his hips against your core.

Sunghoon let's go of your lips and reach down to kiss your neck softly as he kept thrusting dryly against you creating a very arousal feeling between you two. You let out tiny whispery moans and Sunghoon let out tiny small moans and groans. " Mmm~...ahhh.....Hoon...."

His hips suddenly started to do circular motions against you to create more friction. You quietly laugh as you held onto his broad shoulders. He glanced at you and smirk. " You like that..." He said and suddenly hit you with his hips against you. You widen your eyes and yelled " ahhhhh! Sunghoon ah!!" Out of surprise.

He chuckled as his right hand that caressed your thigh before went up to rub your right breast and massage it  lightly. You bit your bottom lip as you felt in the clouds when he touch your breasts. You really like that a lot.

His red plumpy lips kissed your neck, shoulder, and in the middle of your clothe chest so passionately making you moan lightly even with your shirt and bra on.

Wow, who thought you can make love and still feel good with your clothes on?

" Take my shirt off...." You whispered to him as he didn't complain and did what you told him to do. He took that jacket and tank off. Soon he saw the black sexy lingering you're wearing.

" Mm? What's this?" He gave you a surprised questionable look. " It's for you love, I bought it for you.... Don't you like it?..."

" I love it, but......you had this planned didn't you?" He said giving you a shy teasing smile.

" Yes baby now laid in your back!" You pushed him off you towards the bed. You climbed on top of him straddling him. Quickly you took of your shorts which showed your nice see through underwear. You pulled Sunghoon against your neck and chest as you decided to ride him on his clothed lap.

As for Sunghoon, he was shock because of your surprising behaviors, this is not his old Y/n?....was she hiding this side of her? He decided to smack, grasp, and scratched your ass making you almost screamed.

" Ahh! Sunghoon!!!" You're not going to lie, you loved it to the point we're you cummed fast and good.

" Oh my god ....oh my god..... Hoon~" breath it out finishing off releasing everything on his pants. " Can I choke you?....." You suddenly said as you kiss and suck his Adam apple on his fine looking neck.

" Ahh~...." He said closing his eyes feeling good. "Choke me? Is that even a thing?.....no I'm scared..." He said smiling sheepishly. 'what an idiot now you sounded like a chicken! Man up Sunghoon! Be dominant!' he thought as he felt embarrassed again.

"Then you choke me.....don't worry i am informed on how to do it right...." You said as you took off his dark blue sweater. You lean down to kiss his chest down his stomach. You went back to lightly pinch his nipples and to suck on them. You gaze up to look at his expressions. He furrowed his thick eyebrows upwards, and you can tell he was controlling his moans by breathing heavily.

You know your boyfriend isn't very vocal at all, which you don't mind since his groaning is what turn you on the most. However I think it's time to hear him scream your pretty name.

After sucking his nipples, you kiss and lick down his chest down to his small abs, going even down to reaching the edge of his Calvin Klein underwear. You unzip his pants pulling them down. You saw the big bulge.

' I've missed you....' you sillily thought.

You looked up to see your blushing boyfriend. This will be the first time receiving a blow job from you. You grasp the bulge roughly but not too much just squeezing it as if it was some type of squeaky toy.

Sunghoon yelped of pleasure at the sudden contact of your hands attacking him.

As you were done teasing him you pull down his underwear and his length pop out freely. You not having experience with decided to pretend it's a popsicle you're sucking on. Your hands grabbing on the uncover parts of length rubbing there.

" Mmmm~..........ahhh...Y/n" he hissed your name, his eyebrows furrowing together and bitting down his bottom lip telling you his feeling really good. You know he is trying to control his moans but now his starting not help it.

You suck harder and bobbed your head repeatingly, his length almost touching the bottom of your throat. His length twitch in your mouth. Does that mean his close to cum?

" Fuck! Y/n~.…...ahhh!" He moan out loud grasping your messy long hair between his long thin fingers making you bobbed your head harder as he thrust his hips against your mouth trying to cum now.

As he did you swallow it all. Sunghoon relax there breathing heavily while closing his pretty eyes. You climbed on top of him and laid on top of his body. You  put an arm beside his pillow and the other hand caressed his face. You breathlessly watch him breath in and breath out.

" You liked that?......" You whispered as you kiss his earlobe. Sunghoon nodded and smiled sheepishly once again. " I loved it ..... So much .... How are you so good?.....I want that everyday before I go to practice..." He chuckled.

You laughed with him. " Sunghoon you make me wanna do so many bad things to you ...." You bit your bottom lip. It is true, you have sexy fantasies you want to make in reality with him, Sunghoon only.

Suddenly he pushed you down without warning you. He straddle you. He put his fingers around your throat and started pressing.

" Same princess.....i also want to do bad things to you baby girl...." He said darkly with a rougher voice. Ooo that really send you to the edge of getting wet.

" Press here...." You guided his thumbs in a certain area of your neck. Sunghoon obey and tighten his grip on your neck making you feel breathless and dizzy but in a good way.

He was making you feel in a certain way you can't explain.

Sunghoon suddenly let's go. His pretty veiny hands roam around your body caressing every inch. He wraps your left leg around his waist caressing your thigh softly. He kisses down your shoulder, down in the middle of your chest. He get close to your right breast, gives you tiny kisses around your hard nipple making you giggle and bit down on your bottom lip. You played with his jet black hair, pulling his locks softly.

He did the same to your other breast, kissing, pinching, sucking on your hard nipple making your core throb. " Ahh~ Sunghoon..... please fuck me already..... please....." You said grinding your hips against his hard length.

Sunghoon without warning slams his length inside you. He spread your legs more for more space for him to go deeper. You pull him down by his neck to kiss him more sensual and passionately. His kiss back with the same passion and sensuality as you making the whole make out session steamy. Everything was so heated, the kiss, him railing you, the sex sounds, moans, and groans coming from you two.

The whole room was like circus once again and you two were wilding crazily. " Fuck~ Hoon~ choke me daddy choke me~!" You said as you were reaching to your big orgasm. Sunghoon once again wrapped his hands around your throat and tighten his grip on you.

" AhhHH~ YEAH! YES! SUNhoOn~ mY......LOve...~" You felt the delicious feeling of your big orgasm and the good feeling of dizziness mixing together intoxicating you of pleasure.

"Ahh~.....I'm close baby.....I'm sooo-......mmm~fuck" he whispered and moan in your ear.

Both of you came together.

Sunghoon suddenly pulls away and laids next to you with heavy breaths. You also felt breathless after going through the rollercoaster of joy. Sunghoon reaches next to you to cuddle up with you. He kisses your forehead and pats your hair softly. He reaches to grab one of your hands and cross his fingers between yours.

You turn around so your naked chest is touching his chest. You took your time to admire his face. " Sunghoon.....I love you..." You sincerely said by heart.

Sunghoon shows his sweet dimples smile and hugs you tightly. " I love you too my pretty princess...."

You lean to kiss him again but stop when you heard the sound of a door closing and Jungwon screaming.  " IM HOME!.......mom can you make me my favorite curry?..."

" Yes son ..... where's your sister by the way?...." Your mother said.

You and Sunghoon looked at each other with horrifying expressions.

" Shit! They're here! Sunghoon hide under my bed now now!" You said not wasting any time. You dressed, fixed your bed, helped Sunghoon dressed and pushed him underneath the bed.

Looking naturally you came out of the room. " Y'all here already? I took a nap....." You said pretending you were slightly sleepy with your messy hair and mascara slightly running down your cheeks.

" Yeah....... Jungwon won the black belt!" Your father said excitedly suddenly giving a tight hug to Jungwon almost suffocating the poor adorable looking boy. Your mother did the same and after a second you did the same to go with flow although you do feel proud for your little brother.

" Ahhhh! I know I won, I shined! Now let me go-" Jungwon said annoyed wiggling himself from them.

" Congrats little bro, you deserve it for being so good at it " you winked at him. Jungwon grins at you and then gives you a pat on your shoulder.

"..…... cologne?....." He suddenly stop patting you as he got close to smell your neck. He widen his eyes unbelievably. " Sunghoon?.... ain't it? Was he here?" He asked you quietly still giving you a " are you serious" kind of look.

" He did.....he came by to give me the homework i made him do for me" you chuckled to yourself. " Then I thanked by giving him a hug.......hey by the way how do you know it's his?..." You asked now trying to mind of change the subject.

" You forgot he is also my friend? .....gosh Y/n when are you going to wake up! " Jungwon whined as he went to his own room.

You saw your parents where no longer in the kitchen or living room. You immediately run to your room.

" Sunghoon! Baby!" You whispered as you crouched down to help him pull up from the bed. "They're all out of sight! Leave now!" Sunghoon nodded, after getting out, he gives you a slow passionate kiss making you melt from it and just wrapped your arms around his neck.

Sunghoon pull away with a smirking grin. " You're sooo in love with me" he said before kissing your forehead. Quickly you check again.

"Come now!" You whispered and held his hand pulling him towards the entry door. " Goodnight love!" You said.

" Good night my lovely princess......gosh this feel like Romeo and Juliet...." Sunghoon shook his head before walking away. You closed the door and leaned against it.

" Oh Sunghoon...." You breath it out while touching your heart.

"Why does the couch smell....like Cologne?....and why are you standing there looking dumbly? And why is there food on the table?" Jungwon pass by and stare at you. You widen your eyes open. You forgot to put all the food away!

" and why don't you stop asking questions! The door was for me, I did have a movie marathon before taking a nap, oh and I let my friend Sunghoon sit with me and eat some food-"

" But the food looks untouched!" Jungwon said examining a popcorn curiously and trying it after it.

" oh my god Yang Jungwon just shut up! What do you want to hear from me? That I slept with him or something?..." You acted annoyed. Hopefully he believes in you cuz baby Jungwon can be quiet an observer and a doubter.

" So you did slept with him?" Suddenly gives you his signature Lenny Face. " MOM-" he screamed.

" JUNGWON! JUNGWON! what's wrong with you! I'm not like that! Gross! Me inviting some boy to sleep with in my own house is just simply disgusting and disrespectful......kid what do you even know you're just a child just go play Pokemon with Sunoo and Riki...." You pushed him away and sat on the couch grabbing some chips.

After a minute.

" Y/n! Your room smells like Sunghoon! I'm finally telling mom and dad!" You widen your eyes and jump from the couch. " Listen here you Jaden Smith wannabe! I didn't do shit you know Sunghoon can be very mischievous! That boy started messing around my house!"

" I know.....but his cologne is all over you as well THE couch and YOUR BEDROOM!......but not in any other area...... coincidence? " Jungwon smiled feeling proud in bothering you.

" Yang Jungwon go to hell....." You said getting into your room leaving a smirking Jungwon, leaning against the frame of his door with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling so proud in making you mad. Now he really pissed you off....but why though?.... You're not sure if he really believes you did anything naughty with your Sunghoon but you still gotta convince him you don't have anything to do with your secretly boyfriend.

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×Text Messages×

❄️SUNGHOON ⛸️❣️

Hey princess did anything weird happen today?

YOU

Besides me and you had a great time together today... 🤔 Actually yes! Jungwon is already suspecting about us! But don't worry daddy imma convince him there is nothing btw us 😉😏🙈🙊💦👅😋

❄️SUNGHOON ⛸️❣️

D-DADDY?!!

Umm...ok babe....you really good at convincing! Like the way you convince me to do your hw....and to do you....🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥-

YOU

Park Sunghoon......you better stop~~~🥵🥵🙊🥵🥵🙊

❄️SUNGHOON ⛸️❣️

Hewhew you started it princess 😉😏

Anyway goodnight tomorrow i got dance practices so gotta sleep early.....have nice dreams about me😘😘

YOU

You mean wet-skskskskss ok my baby my prince goodnight and have hot dreams about me😏😘😉🔥

❄️SUNGHOON ⛸️❣️

Ok why are we so dirty!? 🤔🙈 anyway

I Love You ♥️

YOU

Idk love were meant to be like this together 💖

LOVE YOU BABY💕

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