#i will bring my console down to the family tv room for you and i will send you the money so you can buy the game!!!!

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

me internally when i’m trying to respect and recognise that my dad has unaddressed autism that impacts the way he handles social interractions while also trying to not just excuse the shitty insensitive behaviour that has absolutely contributed to my mental health issues

[laligraves]

sweet angel agency

dark!joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.3k summary: Joel mistakes you for the escort he ordered. masterlist | AO3

warnings: dark!Joel, TLOU AU, noncon/dubcon (im so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), older!joel/no outbreak, not proofread, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, reader has hair joel can pull, reader can be picked up by joel, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: happy october! i have these three serial killer!joel WIPs i keep jumping between but idk which one to finish 😭 so i wrote this instead lol

“No, no, no. Shit!” 

Your car emits a loud creaking sound and begins to shake. Thinking quickly, you drive into a small cul-de-sac, away from the main road and fast cars. It rolls to a stop with one final groan, shutting off completely. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, “are you kidding me?” 

You grab your phone from the center console, noticing the 3% battery, and shoot a text to your friend that you’ll be late to the Halloween party. 

It dies as you press the send button and you throw it to the passenger seat in exasperation. You look around the rows of houses. There’s a Halloween event in the city, which probably explains the lack of cars in the driveways and the turned off porch lights. 

Well, all except one. 

A pickup truck with tools and materials in the bed, is parked in the driveway of a home. The porch light is on and you can see the flicker of the TV through the closed blinds. 

You hope the family is nice enough to let you use their phone or even if by some miracle, one of them knows how to fix your car. As you step out of the car and smooth down your dress, you pray they aren’t judgmental of your outfit choice. 

It’s a tiny, silk dress complete with angel wings and thigh high stockings. You pull the dress down in an effort to cover your thighs but it only brings it down from your chest, accentuating your tits. 

With no choices left, you ring the doorbell to the house. There’s no noise aside from the crickets and the TV, until you hear the heavy thuds of boots walking towards the door. 

It swings open, revealing a tall, older man. His hair and beard have streaks of gray and his brown eyes are lined with soft wrinkles. The button down he wears stretches over his broad chest and as he leans his arm on the door, the bottom of his shirt rises to show a slight belly and a happy trail. 

In other words, he's handsome. A quick scan of his left hand shows no wedding ring. 

You give him a pretty smile, not above using your looks to get what you want. 

“Hi,” you say as you give him your name, “sorry to bother you. My car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a tow truck?” 

His eyes do a slow sweep of your body, lingering on the lacy band of your thigh highs, then back up to your eyes, 

“Didn’t realize you came with a story.” 

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Uh–story? What?” 

“And the angel costume… I guess that’s expected.” 

“May I use your phone?” you ask again.  

He pushes the front door wider, motioning for you to walk in. “It’s in the kitchen.” 

You walk inside and accidentally brush against his body. Aside from his confusing comments, the deep rumble of his voice caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You walk into the hallway, stopping at the entrance of the living room, waiting for him to lead you to the kitchen. 

“Are you… home alone or–” 

You feel his hand snake through your hair and pull you back into his chest. His other hand slips under your dress and cups your pussy, rubbing over the thin material of your panties. 

“What the fuck–” 

You lift your hands to scratch and push him away but he only holds you tighter. 

“Stop playin’ games, little girl,” he growls, “we both know why you’re here.” 

His fingers, rough and calloused even through your panties, glide over your panty-covered slit in rough strokes. You’re frozen in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

Your heart pounds fast in your chest and you feel warmth spread through your body. 

“I don’t–please, sir–” you stutter. 

His fingers slip into your panties and you bite your lip to muffle your moan. He swirls his middle finger at your entrance, gathering the slick that’s dripped out of you, and drags it up to circle your clit. 

You gasp, the sudden jolt of pleasure taking you by surprise. 

“So fuckin’ sensitive,” he growls, “can’t wait to sink my cock in ya’, angel.” 

Your hands try to dislodge his arms from around you, but he slips his hand around your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply. Your wings bend in his hold and the plastic middle digs into your back. 

“I told them I wanted you to call me Joel,” he murmurs, loosening his hand to allow you to breathe, “but I like sir.” 

“What are you talking about—” 

Joel interrupts you again, ripping your panties in a stinging snap and spinning your around to face him. You teeter and almost trip on your heels, but he crouches and swings you over his shoulder. 

He brings his hand down on your ass, ordering you to stop squirming, girl, while you feel the cool air brush on your naked cunt. 

Joel walks you through the hallway and into a room, dropping you on his bed. You try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your foot and yanks you back down. 

“No, please,” you cry, “I don’t know what this is–” 

“We won’t be needing these,” he says as he slips off your heels. 

“Sir–” 

Joel grabs the top of your dress and rips it half, maneuvering your body so he can untie your wings, leaving you in nothing but your stockings. 

You don’t like the way your belly tightens with each stroke of his rough hands over your heated skin or the way your cunt drips with need every time he calls you a pretty angel. 

He laughs at your attempts to kick or shove him away, and easily overpowers you. Joel pushes your hands back and nuzzles your breasts, gliding his nose over one, sliding to the other, until he suckles a peaked nipple into his mouth. 

It gets you to stop fighting and instead you whimper in his hold, pushing your chest up so he can get more of your plump flesh into his mouth. 

He makes room for himself between your thighs, grinding down his bulge onto your bare pussy. The rough material of his jeans contrasts the softness of his mouth and your brain short circuits. 

“Always the same with you sluts,” he growls, “beggin’ me to stop but look at ya’, soakin’ my jeans.” 

Joel props himself up, giving a kiss to the tip of each breast, and holds your mouth open with rough fingers to shove your panties inside. With your now torn dress, he uses the silk to tie your hands together. 

“Can’t get away from me now, little girl. You’re all mine.” 

Your knees are bent and thighs spread open, giving him a perfect view of your cunt. He uses one hand to thumb your tiny hole while the other unbuckles his belt. 

“Prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” Joel says, “gonna make a mess in it.” 

Joel pushes his jeans down and fists his cock, squeezing the thick length in his hand. A pulse starts in your cunt at the sight and you unconsciously tighten your inner muscles.

You push the inappropriate thoughts out of your head, reminding yourself that this is a stranger, one that you wanted help from–but the dribble of pre-cum on his purple tip makes your mouth water. 

His cock is thick, angry-looking, and curved slightly. A patch of curly hair, silver streaked just like his head, covers his base. 

Joel slips a single finger inside of you and you both groan, him from the snug fit and you from the stretch. Your back arches and you cry out from behind the gag. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs, “how am I gonna fit in here, angel?” 

He slides his finger out and notches the tip of his cock to your slick entrance. You cry, no, no, please, through your gag, but your resolve slowly slips. 

Joel holds your thighs open and thrusts in with one firm push, lodging himself to the hilt. It takes you a few moments to react, but you scream behind the gag.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, “that’s—fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect.” 

You flutter around his length, trying to accommodate his size, feeling every veiny and bumpy ridge on his cock. 

He stills, clutching your thighs and sliding his fingers beneath the lace band of your stockings.

“Grippin’ me so well, angel,” Joel groans, grinding down. “Meant to be, yeah?” 

No, you scream in your head, but your body quivers in excitement and you breathe in the scent of his cologne and sweat, wanting him but, at the same time remembering how you ended up here.  

“Look at cha’,” he laughs, “impatient little thing. Already fuckin’ herself on my cock.” 

You try to deny it, that you’re currently not swiveling your hips, bouncing with the little room you have, trying to get him to move, but it’s no use. You’re chasing the warmth that simmers in your belly and you purposefully clench around his length.  

Joel moves slowly, sliding out, watching the flicker of emotions on your face. 

It barely fits, and it borders on pain. But the heat in your pussy only grows with each growl or moan that spills from his mouth. 

You’re embarrassingly wet, making it so much easier for him to pound into you. He watches your joined bodies, eyes half closed but focused on the way your inner lips grip him, on how your slick drowns him from tip to base. 

“Should I keep you, little girl?” Joel groans. “Chain you to my bed so you never leave?” 

The image flashes in your mind—you, naked and sweaty, covered in his cum and spit, completely at his mercy. 

He doesn’t need a verbal answer to know the idea excites you. Little slut, he says, as your inner muscles tighten around him. 

Joel pushes your hands above your head and presses his face into the exposed column of your neck. He stretches over you, trapping you under his heavy weight. 

Even if this isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked—it is the first time you’ve been fucked like this. The sounds you make, whines, screams, pretty whimpers that have him holding you tighter and fucking you harder—it’s all new. 

“Deep,” he whispers in your ear, “so goddamn deep.” 

There’s something strangely intimate about this. He stays fully clothed, only giving you his bare cock to feel, while you lay beneath him, completely nude except for the thigh highs.  

Joel, if that even is his name, is a complete stranger. Yet he pounds into you like he owns you. 

His lips trail from your neck, licking the droplets of sweat that gather on your skin, leaving kisses on the corner of your mouth, uncaring of the drool from your gag. 

Your thoughts jumble from the overstimulation and soon you’re sobbing, filled with his big cock, dominated by the sheer force of his entire being. 

“So fuckin’ tiny,” Joel grunts, “take me cock, little girl. Take it, take it.” 

His breathing becomes erratic and he thrusts harsher, hauling your thigh higher so he can move quicker. He’s close. It might be your mind playing tricks or, his cock could actually be swelling inside of you, ready to fill you with his cum. 

His thumb swipes over your clit in fast circles and you ripple around his length, coming in sticky, wet spurts. Your scream, caught by surprise by the pressure of your orgasm. You tremble and cry in his hold, squeeze him hard enough that he groans in pain. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, “gonna make this pussy mine.” 

And he does. Joel fills your clenching, little hole with his cum, spilling his seed in your unprotected womb. You remember too late that you’re no longer on birth control, but it’s no use. You have no way to stop him from painting your cunt white, so you let him make a mess inside of you. 

His hips piston with enough force to sink you into the mattress. You’re not quite sure if your orgasm ever ended, but your cunt pulses with another wave as Joel fucks the rest of his spend inside of you. 

“All full of me, little girl,” he murmurs, dropping down to lay partially on top of you. 

You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or maybe for the next few days. Your entire body feels sore and your mind is delirious. 

Joel gently slides out of you and places a kiss on your chin. He unties the silk from your hands and removes the wet panties from your mouth. You hear him walk out of the room, but fall asleep before you’re able to drink the glass of water he brings you. 

-

Joel’s POV.

He’s glad he followed Tommy’s advice and switched to a new escort agency. 

The others aren’t usually so responsive or reactive to his touch. They’ll play along to his fantasy, throw out a few no, please stop, but it never feels real. 

You’re different. 

You kicked, scratched him, drew blood from his skin. It felt real, bringing out the primal side of him that he’s so desperately tried to repress. 

Joel walks into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and his phone, intending to order you food, when he sees an email from Sweet Angel Agency sent almost two hours ago. 

Dear Mr. Joel Miller, 

We apologize for the late notice but our Angel will not be able to make it to your residence tonight. We will be providing you with a full refund. Please wait 2-3 business days to see that reflected in your bank account. 

For any further questions or to schedule another appointment, please contact us. 

Thank you, 

Sweet Angel Agency

“Who the fuck is in my bedroom?” Joel says after reading the email. 

But as he walks back into the room and sees you spread out on his bed, your inner thighs soaked with your combined juices, marking your heated skin in white and clear streaks, Joel realizes he doesn’t really care. 

He strips out of his sweaty clothes and climbs onto the bed with you. Now that he knows you aren’t from the agency, there’s no reason to let you go just yet. 

- - -

a/n: i know there are probably a few fics out there with similar tropes however if anything in this one is similar in plot to another, it is purely by coincidence! i would never steal someone’s work and i appreciate each and every fic writer out there who does these for free and takes time out of their day to give us amazing fics 🤍

[prettymuchteddy]

Good Luck Egg Chapter One: Welcome Egg

Summary: Jace Targaryen was one of the eldest siblings of his two mothers and when he found out they would be having yet another child he was both excited and nervous. His baby brother, Egg, would have to navigate life through their crazy family so as any good brother would do he started creating video diaries to give him advice for the future.

Chapter Summary: When his mother goes into labor early Jace struggles to wrangle all his siblings together to get to the hospital and meet their little brother

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Jace Velaryon x Sara Snow, Cregan Stark x Helaena Targaryen

Warning: some language

Words: 5,262

A/N: This is high-key written like a sitcom and is Jace-centric (since he's Teddy in this fic), also muña means mother in High Valyrian

The house was mostly quiet for once. The only sound came from the TV, a humming signaled the beginning of the theme song. Rhaenyra turned up the volume enthusiastically. She glanced down at her bowl of strawberry ice and frowned. Taking the whipped cream topping in hand she added more until it was a mountain that buried the ice cream, only then was she satisfied. She took a spoonful and smiled. 

Rhaenyra never felt fully comfortable when she was in her final trimester of pregnancy even when she had done it several times. However, to her, the best thing about being pregnant was that she could eat anything without her wife bringing up how “unhealthy” it was. She could say it was cravings and her wife moved on.

The screen lit up with the colors of her favorite fantasy series. Without hesitation, she took another spoonful. A sharp pain came from her abdomen. 

“Ow”, she huffed. Her eyes went to her stomach. “All your brothers were easy, why aren’t you?”

She swallowed the ice cream and turned back to her TV. Her favorite family drama show was on. She had yet to catch up to the current season like her son had but with the rest of the kids out of the house, she could watch her show without having to worry about them walking into the awkward parts.

Another pain came from her abdomen. She gripped the remote tightly. She winced. Slowly, Rhaenyra turned off the TV and put down her plate. She could barely adjust to sitting on her own couch. Every time she would end up rolling. Gods she forgot how much she hated this feeling. 

“Alicent”, Rhaenyra called.

The sound of boots clicking in the kitchen got her attention and before long, her wife walked into the living room. 

“What is it?” Alicent asked. 

“I’m going into labor”, Rhaenyra sighed.

Alicent’s eyes popped open. “What?! But you’re not due yet!”

“Well take that up with him.” Rhaenyra gestured at her stomach. “Unfortunately, I’m running on his time, not the doctor’s or mine apparently.”

Alicent scanned the couch for her purse. “Okay, okay”, panic edged in her voice. “A bit of a hiccup but it's fine.”

Alicent grabbed the purse which was thrown lazily on the floor. “Okay, I have our stuff here. Do you want me to bring you a robe and slippers?”

Rhaenyra bit in inside of her cheek as another round of pain resurfaced. “We don’t have time for that, my love.”

Alicent helped Rhaenyra to her feet. Rhaenyra threw on her sweater and casually walked toward the door with an anxious Alicent behind her. 

Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder and then smirked. “Ready for baby number eight?”

Alicent was practically shaking. “Gods no, but let’s do this.”

—---------------------------

Jace wanted to throw his controller on the couch. He had lost another video game match with Cregan. His best friend was smiling but he was not. How after so many times playing had he not improved at all? He thought at least with the new combo he had, he thought he could get one victory over Cregan but nothing.

He rolled his eyes at the TV. “This is rigged.”

Cregan threw back his head and laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“This is your game and console. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had done something.”

“I only play games, Jace, I’m not a tech wizard that’s your brother.”

“I bet he did help you.”

A ring broke through the conversation. Cregan picked up his phone but saw his screen was pitch black. 

“Jace, I think it’s yours.”

Jace shuffled through his pocket and pulled out his phone. The word ‘Mom’ lit up the phone. He answered.

His face scrunched a bit in confusion. “Mom, what’s up?”

“Um”, he could hear the nervousness in his mom’s voice. “Your mother went into labor early.”

Jace sat up on the couch. “But I thought the baby wasn’t coming for a least like two weeks. Is Muña okay?”

“Yes. Yes. Your mother is okay.” 

A scream came from the background. “Alicent, can you drive any fucking slower?!”

“I’m talking to Jace”, his mom said.

“Watch the road!”, his muña yelled. 

“I’m trying to”, his mom responded in the calmest voice she could muster. 

“You’re on your way to the hospital, right?” Jace asked.

“Yes, we are. Jace, I’m so sorry to ask this but can you please bring your siblings here? I can’t leave your mother alone.”

Jace nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll get bring them over as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, darling,” his mom said. With that, she hung up.

Jace had wanted to record a film from their short film, but it seemed that would have to wait. He turned toward his friend. “Cregan, I need to borrow your car, it’s for an emergency.”

Cregan sat up. “I heard everything your mom was screaming, let’s go.”

“Believe it or not that’s her calm.”

Cregan threw the car keys at Jace, who caught them with one hand. They got into the car and Jace turned on the engine. He glanced between himself and his friend at their uniforms, it was for their film, but he didn’t have time to change. Whatever.   

“Do you know where you’re going?” Cregan asked. 

Jace nodded. “Yup, theater rehearsal.”

The younger teen was practically speeding until they got to the parking lot of their local high school. It was a weekend so few cars were in the lot when Jace pulled into an empty space. He turned off the car and ran toward the auditorium, with Cregan close behind. The two opened the doors to the building. Inside were other teenagers dressed in costumes reading over a script. Jace scanned the group assembled.

“See 'em?” Cregan asked.

“No.”

Jace opened the doors to the stage. On top of the stage, he saw a couple rehearsing some overly dramatic monologue while staring into each other’s eyes. Behind them was a group of teenagers dressed as fairies with cheap plastic wings. In the corner of the stage, she saw a girl with light hair dressed as a tree. 

“Helaena,” Jace called out.     

The couple stopped monologuing. The guy looked annoyed. “I thought we locked that door.”

Jace smiled awkwardly. “Sorry to interrupt, family emergency.”

Helaena in her tree costume made her way down to the stairs. The closer she got the more Jace was struggling to not laugh at his sister’s odd costume. She looked as if she could barely move with her arms stuck at her sides where the trunk of the tree was. 

“Jace, I’m at rehearsal”, Helaena reprimanded softly.

“I know. I know but it’s muña. She went into labor.”

Helaena’s eyes widened. “But I thought she wasn’t due yet.”

“She isn’t but the baby calling the shots here.”

Helaena nodded. “Okay, let me get out of this stupid costume. They can find another tree in the meantime.”

Jace helped Helaena unzip the back and she tossed off the tree costume. Underneath her costume though was a camo jumpsuit, supposedly to match the tree. Jace didn’t bother to bring this up. They raced back to the car. Jace jumped into the driver’s seat but found that Cregan was no longer in his passenger’s seat. The rearview mirror showed he was now in the backseat with his sister. Jace shook his head.

“Hel, do you know where everything else is?”

“Aegon and Daeron are at Ben Blackwood’s party”, Helaena admitted.

“Ben Blackwood is having a party today?” Jace asked.

“Yes, they didn’t want to tell mom and muña. You have to keep it a secret”, Helaena demanded. 

“Fine. Fine.” Jace then groaned. “Crap. How are we going to find his house?”

Cregan leaned close to Jace. “He lives in Ravenhall.”

“How do you know that?” Jace inquired.

Cregan glanced to see if Helaena wasn’t paying attention. “I used to date his sister, Aly.”

Jace’s face scrunched together. “You’ve never brought this up.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Jace sighed then started the car and pulled out of the parking space. As he began driving, he saw Cregan lean closer to Helaena in the rearview mirror. 

Cregan swallowed nervously. “So, are you a big theater person?”

“I like it, so I guess.”

“Cool. Um, what play were you doing?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Helaena replied.

“Oh really? My teacher made me read that book for literature. It’s got a lot of freaky magic and stuff.”

Helaena smiled. “I know, right? I think that’s why I like it so much; it stands out from Shakespeare’s other work.”

Cregan smiled. “Yeah, it's awesome.”

Jace wished he could be anywhere else than inside this car and being forced to live through this conversation.

The neighborhood of Ravenhall was luckily close to where the school was. The security guard at the gate was nice and let them in once Jace said they were going to the Blackwood’s. The man asked if they were Brackens and Jace said no. He was confused about what was going on between the Brackens and Blackwoods but that was not the main objective. As Jace got closer to the house, he could see cars surrounding the house. The music from the backyard was playing loud enough that he could hear it from the front. 

“You’d think for a house party, they’d be more lowkey about it.”

Helaena pointed at the fence, suddenly. “Look the gate is open.”

Jace nodded. “Come on let’s these two.”

The three of them slipped through the half-closed gate. When Helaena told him it was a party, Jace had not expected this. There was a bounce house beside the pool where children around the age of ten were playing. A clown was face painting a little kid, while another clown made balloon animals. A pile of presents was in the corner next to a large table with an ocean cake. A banner above spelled out ‘Happy Birthday Sam!’ in big blue bubble letters. 

Jace stared at the scene before him. “Cregan?” 

“Yeah?”

“This is the Blackwood house, right?”

“I swear it is.”

“Helaena?” Jace asked.

“I swear they said they were going to Ben Blackwood’s party”, Helaena replied.

“This is a kid’s party”, Jace pointed out.

“Um, Jace.” Cregan nudged his rib.

Jace turned and saw Aegon and Daeron sitting in beach chairs beside the pool. Their legs were sprawled out as they laid back on the chairs, juices in hand. Without a word, Jace walked over to them. His older brother, Aegon was quick to notice him. 

“Hey, you were invited too?” Aegon asked.

Jace looked down at his two brothers. Both of them were wearing Hawaiian shirts with cargo pants and straw hats. Their accessories consisted of flip-flops, sunglasses, and a capri-sun in hand. Aegon even had sunscreen on his nose.

Jace sighed. “I don’t have the time to ask you why right, just know you need to come with us.”

“They’re cutting the cake soon, though”, Aegon complained.

“Muña’s having the baby”, Jace said.

Aegon sat up. “Wait, how?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

The group hastily left through the open gate and shuffled back into Cregan’s car. Jace started the ignition and then turned back to the backseat.

“Okay, where’s Aemond?”

“At a friend’s house”, Daeron mentioned.

“Can you be more specific?” Jace asked.

“That girl he hangs out with, Alys Rivers,” Daeron added.

“Alright we need to hurry, mom and muña should have gotten to the hospital by now.” Jace began speeding down the road. His eyes occasionally went back to the mirror. He caught a look at Aegon and Daeron’s clothing again. 

Jace cleared his throat. “So, are you guys going to explain why you were at a ten-year-old’s birthday party?”

Daeron chuckled while looking at Aegon. “This should be good. Go on tell him.”

Aegon buried his face behind his hands. “So, I heard a rumor that Ben Blackwood was going to have a party this weekend and Blackwood is one of the most popular guys at school…”

Jace asked. “And?” 

“When we were in class, I commented that it sounded cool and that I could help out. He invited me and told me to bring my little brother so he could have fun too. I brought Daeron with me to the Hawaiian pool party he told me about. Turns out it's a party for his little brother, Samwell and when he told me to bring my little brother, he meant to bring Joffrey 'cause they go to the same school.”

Jace bit his hand to hold back a laugh. Unfortunately, a snort escaped. 

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. Real funny. Laugh it up.”

Daeron suddenly stood up from his seat. “Wait Jace, that’s her neighborhood, you’re passing by it!”

“Shit!” Jace gripped the wheel and abruptly turned it without warning. 

Daeron who was standing, hit his head against the roof of the car. Aegon crashed into Daeron’s chest and then Helaena fell against Cregan. He immediately heard sounds of pain form the backseat. Jace was sure whatever he pulled was illegal, but he frankly didn’t care. However, he didn’t hear the end of it from his siblings until they arrived at the front door of Alys’ apartment. 

Jace knocked on the front door, impatiently. 

The person who answered was just as irritated as him. A guy wearing a long green cloak and riding boots glared at him. “What do you want?”

“Is Aemond here?” Jace almost growled.

The guy sneered. “We’re in the middle of something.”

Cregan stepped in front of Jace. “Let me handle this.”

The Stark was much taller than Jace despite the fact he was only a year older. His gray eyes bore down at the guy. “Either get Aemond or move out of the way.”

The guy was shaking when he turned over his shoulder. “Aemond.”

Aemond came around the corner. “Has the food arrived? Shall we finally feast?”

His older brother’s face fell when he saw them. Jace stared wide-eyed. Whatever annoyance he felt before was gone. His brother wore a long wig with an eye patch covering his right eye. He was wearing black pants, a black leather tunic, and a black leather trench coat. By his side was a fake sword attached to a belt. Aegon was the first to say something.

“Is that a wig?” He asked while slowly raising his phone to take a picture.

Aemond looked horrified. “What are you doing here?”

“Muña’s going into labor”, Jace explained.

Aemond stepped forward. “Now? Is she alright? Did mom get her to the hospital?”

“Yes, and we need to go”, Jace expressed.

Aemond nodded. “Okay.” 

“But my Prince, we need you for the campaign”, the guy said.

Aegon was trying to keep in his laughter. “Prince?”

Aemond sighed. “Sorry, family emergency comes first.”

Jace knew they didn’t have time to continue this argument and closed the door on the guy. 

“Car, now”, he directed his siblings. 

They didn’t need to be told twice. Aemond rushed to the passenger’s side while everyone else went to the backseat again. 

Jace took one look at his older brother. “Before we leave…a campaign?”

“And cosplay?” Daeron asked from behind. 

“It’s not cosplay, it’s for an original character”, Aemond explained.

“So, an OC?” Daeron asked.

Aegon furrowed his brows. “How do you know what that is?”

Daeron crossed his arms. “No reason.”

“Is that from the fantasy show you and Muña watch?” Helaena asked with a smile.

Aemond avoided looking at them. “Yes.”

Jace smiled. “Hey, at least you’re hanging with friends.”

Aegon leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, wait till we tell mom and muña when we get to the hospital now that everyone’s here.”

Aemond glanced back at the mirror to take in those present. Then he looked at Jace. Slowly, Jace’s brown eyes widened. 

“Oh my god, we’re still missing Luke and Joffrey!” Jace yelled.

Aemond stared in disbelief. “I thought you already got them.”

“Obviously not! Do you see them in the trunk?”

Aegon actually turned back to look inside the trunk. “Yup not there.”

Cregan looked at the Targaryen. “You thought I would put them in the trunk?”

“I mean saves space. Also, Luke deserves it depending on the day, especially when he’s always messing with the neighbor.”

Jace straightened up. “Wait. Wait. Say that again.”

“He’s always messing with the neighbor?”

Jace started the car. “I know where Luke is.”

“Terrorizing Ms. Velaryon, no doubt”, Aemond sighed. 

Jace made it quickly to the house. He refused to get out of the car and Aemond opted to be the one to knock on the front door. From what Jace could see from across the street, their neighbor, Ms. Velaryon answered the door. Her usual scowl was on her features when she opened the door. Aemond said something before she went back inside though curiously left the door open. Not even a minute went by when she came out dragging Luke by the collar of his shirt. His younger brother had a smirk on the entire time as she seemed to complain to Aemond about Luke. Eventually, she closed the door and Aemond walked with Luke back to the car.

Jace lowered his window as they approached. “Do I even want to know?”  

Aemond tilted his head. “Apparently, he broke in through her cat’s door and tried to ‘prank’ her by putting blue hair dye in one of her hats.”

Jace shifted to his younger brother. “Luke?”

“She said blue is her favorite color, I don’t see the problem.”

Jace looked at Aemond who was back inside the car. “He didn’t dye her hair, right?”

Aemond looked over his shoulder. “No. Ask him what happened instead.”

Jace turned at Luke. For the most part, his brother looked fine. His shirt was a bit wrinkled from where Ms. Velaryon grabbed his collar. However, his shoes were fine as was his baseball cap. Jace’s eyes narrowed. Luke’s curls weren’t sticking out of the cap. He couldn’t see his brother’s hair at all. It was all tucked inside.

“Luke, the cap.”

Slowly, his brother reached for the cap and took it off, revealing a head full of blue hair.

Aemond sighed. “Yup.”

“I might have mixed up the hats I was supposed to dye”, Luke elaborated.

 Jace could only stare. A moment passed before he turned back to the road and shifted the gears into drive. 

“Where’s Joff?” was all he felt like asking anymore.

“Mom mentioned that he was at a field day event”, Luke answered.

Jace picked up his phone and began to call someone as they made their way to the park where Joffrey was having his field day. As they approached the park, Jace saw the crowd gathered. He stepped out of the car and ran toward the group. The children were wearing different colors from their respective teams. Joffrey was sitting on a bench with a teenage girl beside him. His brother was wearing a jersey with the name Targaryen on it. However, dirt had gotten on the jersey, his shorts, shoes, and somehow his face.

Jace smiled at the girl. “Hey, thanks for helping me get Joffrey.”

The girl smiled in return. “You don’t have to worry about it, I didn’t mind especially with Rickon participating in this too.”

Jace glanced at her shirt. Team Stark was written in silver letters.

“You guys winning?”

“Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean? You’re always good at sports.”

“Sadly, the sign-up age was from seven to ten, so I missed the mark”, she joked. “Instead, I’m on water bottle and moral support duty.” 

Jace chuckled. “Maybe next time I can come and be the moral support of the moral support?”

He wanted to smack himself. God that sounded so stupid. 

She leaned close and gave him Joffrey’s backpack. For a second, their fingers touched. “Definitely would like the support next time.”

Jace nodded while he tried to ignore his heart beating in his ears. “Yeah, of course, I’ll see you soon, Sara.”

Sara gave a smile. “See you soon, Jace.”

Jace watched as she walked away by the time she left his sight, Jace realized Joffrey was halfway to the car. He rushed after his brother. Once he got into the car, Jace mentally counted the people inside the car. He had managed to get the last of his siblings. Now, they could go meet up with their mothers.

The hospital was busy when they got there. Jace, his siblings, and Cregan passed by dozens of patients in the waiting room. He walked up to the nurse in the front.

“We’re here to visit, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She’s having a baby”, Jace explained.

The nurse glanced at the seven other people who he was with. “Sorry, I can’t allow that many people inside of the room while she’s in labor.”

“But we’re her kids”, Jace insisted.

This time the nurse’s eyes bulged, and she again glanced at the large group. Jace recognized the surprise in her eyes. He was used to it, being in a big family and such. Now his muña was going to have an eighth. 

“I’m sorry I still can’t allow all of you inside during the labor.”

“What about like two of us?” He asked.

“Okay but only two.”

Jace turned back to his siblings. “Guys I’m going to check up on Muña and Mom, Aemond are you going too?” 

Aemond glanced at Joffrey who was standing in front of the vending machine. “Yeah, someone just keep an eye on him.”     

Jace and Aemond went down the hallway and found the room fairly quickly. Jace opened the door. His muña was lying on a bed while wearing a hospital gown and his mom was sitting in a chair beside her. Upon hearing the door creak open they both turned to him and Aemond. His muña gave him her usual bright wide smile.

“Jace. Aemond. You’re both here.” She reached out her arms. 

Jace hugged her followed by Aemond. His mom stood from her chair then captured both of them in a hug.

“Oh Gods, I’m so glad you made it. Are the rest of your siblings here too?” His mom asked.   

“They’re in the waiting room”, Aemond said.

His muña rubbed her belly. “That’s good. That’s good.”

“How’s everything been?” Jace inquired.

“Um”, his mom fidgeted with her nail. 

Jace’s stomach dropped. That was never a good sign.

“The doctor is running late”, his mom explained.

“What do you mean running late?” Jace asked. “I’ve been running around trying to get everyone here, if anything I should be considered running late. How is he running late?”

“There was an accident on the highway and he’s stuck in traffic”, his muña expressed wearily. 

“Wait but if he’s not here what happens?” Aemond asked.

“The nurses will have to help”, his muña said.

Jace scoffed. “So, the guy who we’ve been seeing for nine months for this exact delivery isn’t even here?”

“Jace, it's fine I’ve done this before. You have one example here and the others in the waiting room. I’ll be fine.”

She winced for a moment. “Just wait outside, don’t worry about me.”

Jace begrudgingly went outside and Aemond closed the door behind them. When they walked back into the waiting room, Jace excused himself and went outside toward the vending machine. Outside was fairly empty. Jace wanted to hit the machine, shake it, anything. He couldn’t just stand there and be useless when something bad might happen to his muña.

He wanted the machine to just swallow his dollar and give nothing back. He wanted a reason to take out his anger on the machine. That didn’t happen. The machine dropped a bag of candy. Jace roughly pulled it out.

“Didn’t know you were that serious about candy.”

Jace turned around to see Cregan had followed him.

“Shouldn’t you be in the waiting room?” Jace asked.

“Shouldn’t you? It’s your family.”

Jace looked away. “I just needed a minute.”

“Something happen?”

“You shouldn’t worry about it. I already dragged you into enough as is.”

“Okay, first of all, drop the bullshit, Jace. I let you take my car and went to go with you. I wasn’t dragged into anything. Call me crazy but I like hanging out with you and your family. And also, as your future brother-in-law-”

Jace scoffed.

Cregan looked offended but only cleared his throat. “I repeat as your future brother-in-law, your family is going to be my family too, so they concern me too.”

Jace shook his head with an amused smile. “Right your future mother-in-laws.”

“Exactly. So, what’s up?”

Jace shifted his gaze. “The doctor’s running late.”

“How late?”

“Might not get here in time late.”

“Crap. Okay. Okay. What’s his name?”

“Dr. Gerardys. Why?”

“Jace, just let me handle it,” Cregan assured.

Jace made a face. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Everything you say makes me even more worried.”

Cregan put his hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Jace, for once let me help you.”

“Fine just don’t do anything like…illegal.”

“Says the one that made an illegal U-turn earlier.”

“That was a different scenario.”

Cregan rolled his eyes. “Sure.” His gray eyes shifted. “In the meantime, you might want to talk to Joff.” 

“Why?”

Cregan gestured over past the vending machine. Joffrey sat alone in a seat, staring at his lap.

Jace nodded at Cregan. The two parted before Jace approached Joffrey. He sat beside his youngest sibling. Joff wouldn’t look at anything beside his lap, tough.

“Hey, what are you doing here by yourself?” Jace asked gently. “Everyone else is inside the waiting room.”

Joffrey kept his arms crossed. “Waiting for the baby, I know”, he said bitterly.

Jace immediately knew what was wrong. “You’re upset about the baby.”

“Why did Muña and Mom have another baby? We were just fine before. Now when they have a baby, they’ll only pay attention to him. Everyone else is always busy. Aegon likes to go out with his ‘cool’ friends, Helaena comes home late from her play stuff, Aemond tells me I wouldn’t understand his shows, Daeron does his martial arts and soccer every day, Luke is always planning some prank on Ms. Velaryon, and you’re out with Cregan making your films. With the baby, you’ll forget about me even more than you already do.”

Jace faced his brother. “Joff, that isn’t true. Look, if I’m being honest, I was caught off guard by the baby too. However, even if I’m a bit nervous, I know that I’ll love him just like I love you.”

Joffrey continued to pout. 

“We don’t forget you, Joff. We just have our own things sometimes and can get caught up in them. But you’re still our little brother.”

“You won’t forget about me?”

“Never.”

“Even if I got third place in the field day today?”

“Hey, third place out of twenty isn’t bad.”   

Joff finally smiled. “I won at tug of war with my team.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I accidentally threw dirt at someone on the other team.”

Jace’s face scrunched together. “How do you accidentally throw dirt?”

“I mean I said it was an accident.”

Jace stared at his brother. “An accident?”

“Yeah. I also accidentally stepped on someone else’s foot.”

“I’m starting to think these aren’t accidents.”

Joffrey giggled. Jace just ruffled his dirty hair. 

“Want to go back inside the waiting room?” Jace asked.

Joff nodded.

When they walked back to the waiting room, Jace sat next to Helaena while Joffrey rested his head on his shoulder. Eventually, Cregan came back inside from wherever he was and sat on the other side of Helaena. They waited in the office for fifteen minutes before the door to the waiting was slammed open. A man in a white lab coat hastily ran down the halls. Jace sat up. It was Dr. Gerardys. 

Jace turned toward his brother, Aemond. “He’s here.”

Aemond sighed. “Thank the Gods.” 

Jace leaned back into his chair. The stress left his body when he allowed himself to relax his muscles. Half an hour went by when a nurse called their last name. Jace gently awoke Joffrey, who had fallen asleep. 

Helaena took Joffrey by the hand and walked ahead toward the hospital room. Aemond followed behind with Aegon and Daeron, whose flip-flops squeaked against the white glossy tiles. Luke walked just ahead of Jace and Cregan.

“I’m surprised the doctor got here so fast”, Jace commented to himself. 

“A little bit of persuading helps move things along”, Cregan mused.

Jace turned to his best friend and narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

“A little bit of persuading.”

“What did you do? And should I be concerned that it was illegal?”

“I just grabbed his business card at the front desk and gave him a call.”

“What did you say on the call?”

“I may have said something along the lines of a car accident being the least of his concerns if he’s late.” 

“You didn’t. Cregan, you didn’t.”

“Motivation helps.”

Jace rubbed his temple. “Oh, my Gods.”

“Jace, hurry”, Helaena called.

They shuffled inside the hospital room. His mom was sitting beside the bed with a smile on her features. She gestured for them to get close. His muña was sweaty with her hair slightly tied as she held a bundle in her arms. Her eyes gleamed when she saw them enter the room. 

“Kids, come over here”, she beckoned. “Come meet your baby brother.”

They approached her side. Jace smiled when he saw him. The blue blanket did little to hide his face. His tiny cheeks were red and round. His eyes were closed shut as he slept. His fingers were wrapped around his muña’s gown. Small strands of light hair were on the top of his head.

“Do you have a name for him?” Jace asked softly.

“We were actually talking about that”, his mom replied.

His muña scoffed playfully. “We can think about that later, let’s get a picture of the whole family.”

His mom scanned the room. “Oh, Gods where did I put that camera?”

Cregan grabbed the camera from a seat. “I got it.”

His muña smiled gently. “Cregan, would it be alright if you took a picture?”

Cregan smiled. “Got you, Mrs. T.”

All of his siblings stood on both sides of his muña as she and his mom presented the baby in her arms. 

Cregan grinned. “Say cheese.” 

Jace smiled with his family. A flash went off. 

“You guys look great”, Cregan commented as he looked at the photo.

The door creaked as a nurse came in. Jace watched the color slowly drain from her face as she saw them. Jace looked back at his family. He had nearly forgotten Aegon and Daeron’s beach attire, Aemond’s eye patch, Helaena’s camo jumpsuit, Luke’s blue hair, Joffrey’s dirtied appearance, and his and Cregan’s shirts from their film.

“Hi”, his mom greeted the nurse. “Would it be alright if you took a picture of all of us?” She looked at his friend. “Cregan, get in the photo.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cregan rushed to take a spot by their side.

The nurse took the camera. Her face looked less than impressed with the family.

Joffrey was looking down at their news addition when he out loud he said, “He kind of looks like an egg. That’s what I’m going to call him, Egg.”

Jace gave an amused smile as the camera flashed. 

The nurse sighed. “Good luck Egg, you’re going to need it.”

[rejectedbad]

Rejected Bad: Local Council

The following is a rejected script from an early season of Breaking Bad.

INT. DEA OFFICE - DAY

[WALTER WHITE is seated across from HANK SCHRAEDER, both wearing tense expressions as they talk to SKYLER WHITE on speakerphone.]

SKYLER (V.O):  Wait, you're telling me the local council fined you for what?!

HANK:  Skips. Yeah, apparently, the number of rubbish skips we've filled with...well, meth groupies crosses some kind of line.

WALTER:  It's absurd! Just because they didn't handle their disposal properly doesn't mean we should be punished.

SKYLER (V.O):  So what did they do, exactly?

HANK:  They fined us, and if we don't stop, they threatened further punishment.

WALTER:  To hell with that, Skyler. This is personal now. I'm going to fight them. I'm going to run for the head of the local council.

SKYLER (V.O):  Walt, are you serious? Running for office?

HANK:  He's dead serious. And trust me, we'll do whatever it takes to protect our interests.

INT. WHITE RESIDENCE - WALTER'S KITCHEN - DAY

[Walter is analysing campaign flyers and posters spread across the kitchen table. Skyler walks in, unsure.]

SKYLER:  Walt, are you sure about this? I mean, what about our family? Your secret?

WALTER:  Skyler, if I'm going to face these fools head-on, I have to be willing to fight for what's right. And if it means I have to reveal my secret, so be it.

SKYLER:  But what about the dangers it poses? Your enemies?

WALTER:  They don't scare me. I’ve dealt with worse. They can't touch me, not now.

INT. LOCAL TOWN HALL - ELECTION NIGHT - DAY

[The room buzzes with anticipation as VOTERS eagerly await the results. Walter stands with a small group of supporters, nervously adjusting his tie.]

REPORTER:  The polls are closing, and we're awaiting the election results.

[WALTER's stomach knots as he awaits the outcome.]

INT. LOCAL TV STUDIO - NEWS DESK - NIGHT

[Reporter sits at the news desk, watching the live feed.]

REPORTER:  And the results are in. In a surprising outcome, Walter White has secured 4.20% of the total votes. However, incumbent Mayor Johnson has been reelected with 69% percent of the votes.

[Walter watches the TV screen in disbelief, his face falls.]

INT. LOCAL TOWN HALL - LATER

[Walter slumps in disappointment, his supporters offering words of consolation.]

HANK:  Hey, don't let this bring you down, Walt. In this game, those numbers aren't so bad for a first-timer.

WALTER:  (voice choked)

It doesn't matter, Hank. We fought so hard for this, and we failed. I thought I could make a real difference.

HANK:  Maybe the difference isn't about winning elections, Walt. Maybe it's about exposing the corruption, fighting the good fight.

INT. WHITE RESIDENCE - WALTER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

[Walter sits on the edge of his bed, contemplating his defeat. Skyler enters, offering him support.]

SKYLER:  You put yourself out there, Walt. That counts for something. You showed them who you really are, and not everyone can do that.

[Walter looks up, finding comfort in her words.]

WALTER:  Maybe you're right, Skyler. Maybe I did make a difference, just not the way I intended.

[They share a moment of understanding, leaning on each other for solace.]

FADE OUT.

[tricky-tricky-boys]

While Max noted the reaction to their touch, he decided against saying anything else. Maybe bringing more attention to it would not be a good idea. He did look down at his own hand, noting that were wasn't any mark or sign of what he had felt just moments ago. At the biting humor, Max just rolled his eyes and smiled. "Point taken. Come on, let's go." As Max led them out of the basement, the stairs led out into the kitchen, where the true size of the home could be glimpsed. The Tannen home was more a manor than a simple house, and the kitchen reflected that. Built by his great grandfather, the large manor had a large kitchen, with original appliances that had been carefully maintained in the decades of use by the family. 8 bedrooms took up most of the second floor. Max had taken the bedroom that was most east in the home, as he was the early bird. "You'll have free reign of the house. I do most of the cooking. Myself and Aro are the only ones allowed in the kitchen normally. I have banned Aubrey and Valor from it, since Aubrey blew up the last microwave we had, and Valor started a small fire while making cereal. He still refuses to tell us how he did it, and it's been 5 years." He hummed, continuing past and leading Raydan past the formal dining room that was used for dinner only, past the formal living room that was rarely used, and into the grand foyer that held the wide staircase that led to the second level. He jogged up the steps, turning right to head to the east wing. "Aro and I usually take turns making food, but if you're hungry, feel free to make something for yourself or you can wait until whichever meal is next."  He led them down the long hallway lined with doors to different rooms. The wallpaper was a deep viridian green, with patterns of golden vines and leaves twisting and twirling throughout. The entire home was decorated in a sort of… modern bohemian vibes that very much spoke of the family of witches that lived there. But their rooms, as Raydan would likely find out over time, reflected each individual Tannen.

As they got to the door, Max opened it and left it open as he made a beeline for his closet. The room was modest, whites and pastel blues took up most of the color pallete. The shelves were decorated with books, different divination tools, and plants were the pops of color that broke up the brightness. From the door, the king sized bed was to the left, a seating area with a chaise and two chairs half circling a coffee table was straight ahead, and to the right was the doors to the closet and bathroom, as well as his TV between them and the entertainment center that had his gaming consoles. He had a desk as well, on and around it was his equipment for his YouTube videos. The room looked… lived in. As he rummaged around in his closet, he found a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tanktop that was probably Valor's, and came back out in time for the outburst from Raydan. That made him tense up for a moment before he kept walking towards the hound, holding out the clothes. "Yes. I expected a canine spirit to appear. But I didn't plan to just bark orders and treat it like nothing. It was going to be a part of this family, and we would treat it as… well better than you're currently treating me. I understand that you don't trust me, or trust this situation. But I have been trying to treat you as well as I can given the adjustments that I'm making in real time. If you had been a dog, I was going to find out what hellhounds eat, what they might like as treats, get things that you might like. Now, I'm still willing to do that. I just need to redirect my own brain. But even knowing the context of your distrust… it doesn't make the blatant and open hostility hurt any less, Raydan. You've made up your mind about me, and you did so before I even finished the spell that summoned you. I can only hope that the second impression you obtain from me is better than the first. I know these aren't much… but I hope they're okay until we can go shopping tomorrow." His irises flickered weakly, the pastel blue of his magick reacting to his own emotions. Max had always been sensitive, a drawback to being an empath. Tears were threatening to spill, making his eyes watery and his vision blurring slightly. "Take them. They're yours now. If you still want a tour, we can do that. If you'd like to shower or bathe, the bathroom is right there."

It seemed like Max needed to earn this hound's trust if he was going to get anywhere even close to... well, close to him. It was evident in his aura what had earned thos distrust. Trauma. Had he had previous masters? Had they mistreated him? His heart broke at even the thought of someone harming someone like Raydan. Underneath the extremely rough and guarded exterior, there was something endearing. Max couldnt quite place it. If his previous masters had forced him there and then mistreated him? The thought of it sickened him, and he mentally vowed to at least... give him a good home? Would that phrase even be applicable? Now he sounded like a pet. He was shaken from his thoughts at the sound of the man's voice, and he shook his head. Although curious about the Hell Hounds canine form, he didn't want to see it just yet. It would make communicating with him much more difficult if he decided to stay that way. Although... he could always order him to change. But if he was going to be building trust, it needed to happen organically. Minimal use of commands that would have to be obeyed. "That won't be necessary, Raydan. We'll just need to adjust. So, like I said. You'll sleep in my room until we get a mattress. I'll place an order tomorrow, and then we'll see how long shipping will be." He smiled, watching him closely. He noticed that he was quite expressive, at least his face was. He was sure he didn't need to be an empath to know what was going on with Raydan's moods. "I know that you don't trust me. And you have no reason to, so I understand. But I'm not going to intentionally or maliciously mistreat you or let anyone else. So... you can be honest with me. If there's something you need, don't be afraid to ask for it. And if you have any questions for me, you can ask them." He hummed up until their first touch, and Max tensed. It felt like he had just grabbed a hot plate. He flinched, the initial pain of it making his hand clench a bit right as Raydan squeezed as well. It was like a shockwave of heat rocketing up his arm. Infernal energy. "Holy... wow, that was intense. Did you feel that?" He chuckled incredulously, grinning ear to ear as he gestured to the stairs. "My family is away right now. They gave me privacy for the spell. We have the house to ourselves. Come on, I'll lead you up to my room and I'll give you some clothes before we tour the rest of the house." He bounded up the stairs, knowing that Raydan would follow.

[obeiii-mee]

MC had a bad day or they’re dealing with a bad loss from a loved one. So they decide to seek comfort from the Brothers! But they don’t do it in a normal way, they just barge in the room where the brothers are all relaxing or hanging out at before MC just busts in getting their attention and they go “I need a hug 🥺”. Let’s see the some fluffy hc’s of the brothers comforting MC 🥰

And how could they not want to hug their cute human that is literally 3 seconds away from breaking down into tears?

The Brothers Comforting MC After A Bad Day:

————————————

You’re right, they wouldn’t be able to resist, they love their human too much 😌

*soBS* I want to hug one of them so bad rn

Thank you for the request, I love writing fluffy HCs, it’s my weak spot and it gives me serotonin. I hope you have a nice day/night!! Uh, it’s sort of implied that MC is slightly shorter than them so sorry if that’s a problem-

————————————

Notes: Fluff, mentions of loss and dead family members/friends, mostly comfort though, short HCs

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub and Belphegor.

————————————

Lucifer:

-He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t really need to because him just being there, arms wrapped around you and hands lightly running up and down your back, is worth more words than any sort of verbal consolation he could’ve given you and because of this, you feel at ease

-His touch is firm but gentle and you relax almost immediately, burying your head against his chest and feeling him press a kiss on top of your hairline, tightening your hold on him

-He already told his brothers to back off because the last thing he wanted was for you you to get overwhelmed by their insensitivity so you two were left in the living room by yourselves

-In a bit of an awkward position though, because you were both standing and after a while, it was clear a hug wasn’t going to be enough

-That’s his excuse as to why he picked you up bridal style five minutes later and carried you all the way to his bedroom, a place he knows his siblings won’t ever trespass without his permission and somewhere he can shield you from any prying eyes while you’re in this vulnerable state

-At this point, he was basically cradling you like a baby, having you sit on his lap and waiting for you to tire yourself out until you couldn’t cry anymore and watching you slip into that hiccuping stage you get after a breakdown

-Lucifer is obviously going to ask what happened, but whether you answer him or not is up to you because he’s not one to push matters if he sees you’re uncomfortable talking about it

-However, he might insist if he concludes that it’s affecting you and your well being and that’s how you know usually know he’s worried

-His voice is soft though and just listening to it makes you want to tell him everything, whether it’d be something as annoying as a small inconvenience you stumbled across that day or the death of a relative, you feel welcomed enough to spill everything

-Even if you decide not to, he’ll stay with you until you feel better, until you’re no longer crying or shaking or anything of the sort. He speaks occasionally, almost soothingly about how important you are to him and how capable you are of overcoming anything in your way. For the most part, however, he remains quiet and allows you to mull over your thoughts, willing to forget about his paperwork just to let you cling to him for a few hours

-Maybe later, when you’re no longer as distressed, he could get the full story out of you and help you overcome whatever problem you’re having trouble facing but for now, he understands all you need is for him to be there

“MC?” He calls your name out because he was thinking that maybe you had fallen asleep but he realised that was not the case when you looked up at him, streaks of tears still sliding down your cheeks. When you don’t respond, he sighs almost contently “A bit longer?” You don’t answer again but this time, he could feel you nod against him and he smiles despite himself as he leaned his head against yours “All right then, just a bit longer.”

Mammon:

-Truth be told, he’s never been the best at comforting someone and normally, he’s kind of awkward when he wants to show his support because it feels so out of his character

-But it’s not like he was going to refuse you anyway. Not when you specifically came to him and asked him for help and not when you looked like you were on the verge of crying. He’d be a monster to deny you >:(

-It upsets him too, you know. He’s meant to be your protector, guardian even, so the fact that he couldn’t keep you from getting hurt makes him feel like he failed at keeping his human safe. Actually, it takes a lot of convincing on your part just to tell him that you’re not actually physically hurt. Just a shitty day…

-Mammon, despite the walls he puts up ever now and then, is someone that genuinely cares for you. And he’s also the type that does almost everything in excess, especially when it comes to you or spending money. That’s just his personality; he’s loud and boisterous and even though he wants to deny this, completely transparent with his emotions

-You ask for a hug? He gives you plenty of hugs! He lets you lay on top of him while cuddling so he can hold you!!! He brings you snacks and drinks!!! Shit, he basically cradles you the whole night!!! And he’s blushing and acting annoyed the entire time, refusing to accept how much he’s actually enjoying this

-The point is, he tends to coddle you whenever you have a bad day or if you’re really affected by the loss of a dead loved one. This is probably because he, in turn, likes to be babied and cared for when he’s feeling down and he subconsciously does that to you because it’s the only means of comfort he knows how to execute well

-A hug would’ve sufficed, but you’re his human and let him be damned if he’s not gonna give you the world on a silver platter if you keep looking at him with those sad eyes of yours

-By now, if you need anything, you just need to ask because even with a bit of grumbling, he’ll get it for you. More snacks? Say less. Wanna watch TV with him for a while? Immediately reaches for the remote? You just want to cuddle? His body is naturally warm for a reason bby, dig in. You want his heart? Give him a moment to surgically get it out of his chest-

-No matter what, he’s so glad that you trust him enough to talk to him about this sort of stuff and that he’s the first person you think of when you need consolation

-It makes sense after all, right? He’s your first pact so your direct happiness is his responsibility while you’re in DevilDom! It’s his job to make sure you function again by tomorrow morning and that you’re no longer troubled by anything

“Hey! What’s with all the crying huh?” He cups your face in his hands and softly squishes the flesh between his fingers. His thumbs brush over the tears in your eyes and he let’s out a small ‘tsk’ as your foreheads touch and his hands drip to your shoulders to keep you steady “The Great Mammon is hugging ya right now, ya know? There’s no reason for you to be upset, not when I’ve got ya in my arms like this, OK? So you can stop with yer water works now.” As noisy as his voice is, there’s a gentle note behind it when he speaks and embraces you, his cologne spreading everywhere “I love you, ya big idiot. So please, stop cryin’ and lemme hold ya already! Yer making me worried, ya stupid human.”

Levi:

-You stopping by his room is not unusual. In fact, you do it every day and it’s just part of the routine you have with him. However, he’s wasn’t exactly expecting you to stand there, all shaken up and ask him for a hug!!!

-And he doesn’t process this request for a second but then he freaks out so badly-

-Yells incomprehensibly about how you’re ‘pulling your normie tricks on him again’ and how he’s ‘not going to be fooled by them anymore.’

-You raise your head to meet his eyes while he’s still rambling on though and he sees your teary expression and now he feels guilty because you look really upset. Levi’s kinda scared he made it worse-

-He’s the type to usher you in his room and lock the door as usual but instead of doing what the two of you always do, you literally stay attached to him because you need comfort damn it!

-Levi….is sort of clueless about these emotional outbursts since he himself doesn’t deal with them very well. However, he’s watched enough animes revolving around romance to conclude on the best course of action so-do not fear! (Spoiler, he still doesn’t know what he’s doing)

-He’s really stuck and can either stay as quiet as a nun or start babbling in a language you probably wouldn’t even understand because he’s so nervous

-Or actually, he might start crying with you if I’m being fair; he’s very in sync with his Henry and your emotions

-Once he calms down, he’s actually not all that bad at comforting. Levi is a bit stand offish with his hugs at first but he relaxes into them and by now, you’re both standing by the side of his bed, with you leaning onto him and him holding your hand. He then intertwines your fingers together but subconsciously because he wouldn’t have the gall otherwise

-Later, he tells you to help yourself with the snacks he has hidden in his room. I guarantee you he has a whole ass mini refrigerator hidden somewhere for his all night gaming session, in case he needs any boosts. No one knows how Beel hasn’t found the stash yet and there’s no need to tell him

-Then you watch re runs of old shows together and make fun of the shitty editing and dialogue. He’s still holding your hand though and he’s really flustered and wondering if it’s too sweaty for you but don’t mention it because he’ll get even more embarrassed

-He glances over to you, every once in a while, whilst you’re cuddled up against his arm, eyes glued on the TV, to make sure you’re OK. You almost gave him a seizure or at least that’s how he felt-so he made it his mission to make you feel better by any means necessary. Fuck today’s raids, his team can get them done without him!!

“I-I don’t know why you would want me of all people to hug you but…” he trailed off in a whisper, having to lean down so you could wrap your arms against his neck and bury your head in his shoulder. He pulled you in closer, a streak of protectiveness coursing through him as he shut the door to his room with his foot “Lord of the Shadows would never leave Henry all on his own, so I’m not going to do that either. This is an important character development arc and-just, please don’t cry. I’ll give you more hugs, OK? Seeing you like this is not good for my heart-“ stopped mid sentence after realising what he just said and now he’s the one burying his head in your shoulder, flushed beyond hell “Forget I just said that! Holy Lord Diavolo this is embarrassing, why am I like this????”

Satan:

-It troubles him greatly to see you like this and he can sort of feel the world shift out of place, seeing you with tears running down your face and hands balled into fists out of frustration almost immediately makes him fly into a fit of rage because who would dare to hurt you-

-Oh, a hug? If that’s all you need, he’s more than happy to oblige but if you’re as distraught as you seem to be, he wonders if just a small embrace from him would be enough

-Satan’s hugs are very intimate and even passionate at times. He has one hand on the back of your head and the other supporting your lower back while you bawl your eyes out into his shoulder and getting his uniform wet

-You can’t really seem to focus on what he’s trying to tell you because he’s so warm and welcoming and even though he’s someone as renowned as the Avatar of Wrath, he’s shockingly patient with you as you let out the overwhelming emotions that have been consuming you all day

-It’s hard to not relax when you’re in Satan’s presence because he’s calm and he smells like musty, old books and mahogany wood and cats, meaning he was most likely cuddling strays he found on the street the entire day. The first visual that comes to mind is fire crackling behind a grate in a chimney and someone reading a book while swinging back and forth on an old, rickety chair when you’re around him

-He will wait until you’re no longer crying and then, before you know it, you find yourself in the library with him, drinking tea and being handed a plate of biscuits he took from the kitchen to help you regain your strength after all that crying. You’re still feeling pretty miserable about the day you’ve had but you quickly lose yourself in a conversation with him over a cup of tea

-Sometimes, you two talk for hours on end about nothing important just to hear each other’s voices and finally have some quality time spent together. Even though he wishes the circumstances were better, he’s glad to have been able to snatch you away from his brothers for a while and he’s even happier you chose him to confide in

-Satan practically doesn’t even mention your outburst and keeps the small talk minimal but he wants you to know that if you do wish to tell him about it, he’s more than happy to listen and he’s not so bad at giving advice either

-The topic of the discussion you were having with him changed abruptly by the end of the night and now you’re reading together from this book he started a while ago, both of you covered with a blanket, your head on his chest and his leaning on yours. He’s holding the book with both of his hands, but still managed to get his left wrapped around you. And because of this feeling of safety and warmth, you don’t feel desperate anymore. Tomorrow, you’ll be able to sort out your feelings but now, you’re content to just listening to Satan read, in his clear, soft voice

“Ah MC, could you turn the page for me?” You do as he asked to and you could feel him smiling as he kissed your hairline, sighing before going back to the book and the story within “Thank you. You truly are amazing, did you know that? I’ve never met someone as caring and as kind as you. Well, I suppose Beel could compete for the title but unlike him, you don’t really leave us in debt whenever we visit the grocery store.” Hearing you laugh makes him smile even more and he lets you hold the other side of the book while he plays with your hair and now you join in reading with him, out loud and trying to act out voices for the characters. As everything unfolds, Satan feels the world click right back into place.

Asmo:

-It’s a known fact by now that Asmo is willing to give you any sort of affection at any point in time, whether it’d be a hug, a kiss, holding your hand-you name it! I mean, whenever he’s feeling down, you being there to encourage him helps a lot so it’s only natural it works the other way around too!

-If he notices that you’re genuinely upset by something, then he would have no problem whatsoever with lavishing you in attention and really, a hug or two from him is the bare minimum in situations like this

-In any case, he always enjoys fussing over you and you having a bad day is the perfect excuse for him to do so! After all, he can’t disappoint you since you came to him with your troubles and he will do anything in his power to make you feel better. Actually, if he could, he would keep hugging you forever but as miraculous as his charm can be, it’s not effective against someone with this low of a morale

-His first suggestion is to take a bath! It’s his way of taking care of you; you’re tired after such a long day and he feels like you’re neglecting yourself a little because of it. So you relax in his bathtub with him for a while, him actively trying to get your mind off any bad, lingering thoughts while you splash around in the bubbles

-And obviously after that, you need to have your mandatory spa sessions with him since you need to unwind and what’s a better way to do that than to let him paint your nails and apply lotion to your skin? Besides, it creates a great opportunity for you to take things off your chest

-He’s in need to hear gossip constantly so if you don’t feel like talking, he’s gonna be a bit bummed out but he still respects your wishes enough to not push you. If your problem is as sensitive as the death of a family member, you’re not obligated to talk to him about it and he will understand, since people grieve in different ways. He too shut down after the death of Lilith for a while after all

-A bad day is nothing Asmo can’t handle. He’s had plenty of those before, mostly because of Mammon and his thievery, they’re usually common factors. It’s only natural you experience those yourself and he’s more than willing to be your support system if you need one. He wants you to know that you can go to him if you need advice or help with anything, or even if you just need to someone to hear you out

-To give a more detailed explanation of his hugs, they are usually really light and you never feel suffocated when you’re in his arms. He never squeezes you too tight and he always smells amazing, so you feel inclined to stay near him for as long as possible. Despite his overtly loud nature, he gets incredibly soft spoken with you and he traces patterns on your back and arms as you stand there together

-It’s important to mention, he never pulls away from you first. He lets you decide when you’ve had enough and when you’re ready to move on or if you require some other means of comfort

-And even if you’re no longer disgruntled, he’s still going to pamper you as much as possible the next day with either a shopping spree or another few spa sessions, this time done at a professional institution rather than the privacy of his bedroom

-Asmo is in touch with your emotions and it’s kinda scary sometimes because of how well he can read you, since he almost always knows what you need

“Oh darling, how could I refuse a hug from you?” You can feel his arms embrace you, even with your eyes closed and for some reason, this makes you cry even harder, sobbing as he tries to comfort you. You’re aware he let go of you at some point and returned with a tissue to dab away at your tears, gently to not hurt your eyes and now he’s hugging you again, a wry smile on his face “You don’t have to worry about a thing, MC. Everything will get sorted out, I promise. In the meantime, come to me if anything troubles you again, OK? No more crying, darling-it’s bad for your eyes.”

Beel:

-The type to immediately lean in for a hug without even questioning why. As soon as you ask him, you barely have time to finish the question and you already find yourself in his arms. The only exception would be when he’s eating or maybe in the middle of a work out but the point is he doesn’t hesitate much when it comes to you. And I mean, he loves hugs just as much as his siblings do

-Beel is not the most observant and he may not realise you’re in a bad mood unless you tell him outright. It’s not even that he’s emotionally distant, it’s just that if you tell him that you’re fine, then he’s gonna take your word for it and believe you since he’s pretty straightforward with his feelings as well. However, as dense as he may be on occasion, even he’s bound to notice that you’re not being your usual self and this is especially true if you start crying out of nowhere while he’s nearby. Probably assumes the worst and is under the impression that he did something to upset you because shifting the blame onto himself whenever others suffer is his coping mechanism and we’ve seen him to do it before

-If you’ve just had a bad day, he understands that things could’ve been very overwhelming for you and he wishes he had known sooner so he could’ve helped back then, instead of letting it come to this. But he doesn’t hesitate all that much since he looks like he’s built for giving hugs on a daily basis. I’m not even sure this would classify as a hug since you’re not touching the floor. Rather, you are attached to him like a koala and he’s carrying you around as if you were a baby strapped to his chest. And he genuinely doesn’t mind. He’s been doing it with Belphie for centuries now

-Please, after a while he gets seriously concerned because are humans supposed to cry this much? What if you dehydrate or something? So he makes you stay in bed and just gives you plenty of water. You look so pale and sad, he shares his food with you too because his heart is aching just looking at you like this. He feels like besides being there, he can’t provide you with much help and he’s starting to think he’s hopeless at comforting

-If a family member died then…Beel is one of the best people you could’ve gone to. Honestly, having dealt with his sister’s situation, he knows how horrible it is to lose somebody you love dearly (I mean, all the brothers do but I’m making a point saying Beel, Belphie and Lucifer were especially affected). Now he’s sad himself since he’s aware that you’re going through something similar and his twin might walk in on the two of you being emotional on the floor

-For the most part, Beel makes sure you keep yourself healthy even when you’re tired and depressed. Continues to bring you food, even if he eats half of it on his way to your room, and just keeps you company in general in case you get lonely. Seeing you upset makes him even more considerate of your feelings and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to stay with you all night. He thinks he does because you’ve always offered to stay with him whenever he’s had nightmares before so how he’s gotta return the favour

-Beel gives these bear hugs all the time, since he’s so big and his hand basically covers your entire back. So, more often than not, you end up cuddling while standing because he’s a lot taller than you, with him being a demon and all. Despite that, you feel so unbelievably complete when he holds you like this. It’s hard not to feel protected since his whole body is practically concealing yours so easily all the time and you feel sheltered from the world and it’s….nice

-And Beel enjoys hugging you too, because he knows that as long as he’s nearby, you’ll be safe and that’s really all he needs. He wants to be there for you the same way you were there for him when he needed it most and comforting you when you’re having a shitty day is like his full time job

-You could come to Beel with any problem and he would never judge you, no matter what. He’s just really unproblematic and he just wants you to go back to your normal self because it hurts him to see you cry your eyes out. Now, not only are hugs mandatory but holding your hand is too. It’s like hugging…but your hands are doing the hugging

-Definitely even goes to Belphie after a while if he really doesn’t know what to do and that’s how you know he’s desperate to do something. Since the Seventh Born isn’t exactly someone that yields great advice, more so when it comes to other…people….and his twin knows this-

-Beel’s best strategy at the moment is to just maintain some kind of physical contact because he discovered that makes you feel better and it calms you down more than him trying to verbally console you. He even invited you to sleep in his room if you’re comfortable doing so just so you’re not alone. After that one incident, he’s trying to coax you to tell him whenever something is wrong so he can jump in and help, because that’s all he really wants to do ahakenksms

“MC? Did something happen?” He’s honestly taken aback by how shaky you are and how you’re hands are trembling as they’re reaching to connect with his. Without much of a warning, he feels a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and now he discovers that he doesn’t like seeing you with tears trailing down your face. And he feels worse the longer you wail in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. So, he wraps his arms around you so tight you think you might explode, strangely comforted by the feeling as he speaks again “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you. What can I do to help, MC? We can just stay like this for a while if you want” And when he sees you nod, he proceeds to not move an inch almost the entire night. Obviously, hunger overtook him eventually but he shared his stolen goods with you so can you really complain? Doubtful, not when he hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time.

Belphie:

- Hugging him is a gamble. Realistically speaking, you’re not going to catch him standing upright long enough for you to give him a hug. He’s laying on the floor somewhere, asleep so you shouldn’t expect much from him to begin with. Even if you were to get lucky and stumble upon him while he’s wide awake, he might slump over and succumb to sleep the moment you embrace him because you’re so warm

-Cuddling is a different story altogether. He’d rather shoot himself in the foot than not have you cuddle with him so if you need to be babied for once, he’s a pretty good option to consider

-As usual, he’s in the attic and you go to him because it’s really late and you didn’t want to wake up any of the other brothers. Actually, Belphie is normally awake by dusk so to see him sleep like a log past midnight was quite surprising. You didn’t exactly want to interrupt but if you stayed alone for any longer, you would’ve gone insane. So you shook him awake. And he was understandably confused and probably forgot what planet he was on for a minute when you did so

-Technically, he was half awake and from his point of view, everything must’ve been pretty blurry. He did see you; the problem was that because he was still feeling very sleepy, he was basically in a daze and could only squint at you to try and figure out if you were really there or if he was hallucinating. His suspicion was confirmed soon enough because he reached out after a few seconds and poked your cheek just to check. His face the entire time and the action itself was so amusing that, despite tittering on the edge of a breakdown, you burst out laughing

-Once he came to the conclusion that you were, in fact, real and he wasn’t dreaming, he sighed and opened his arms out for you; a direct invitation to cuddle with him. By now, he likely didn’t even noticed you looked sad because, as I said, he was all over the place but this little ritual you two have was common enough that it got engraved in his memory. Now he does it out of impulse whenever you’re around and he wants attention

-So you basically tackled him and threw yourself on top of him so hard, both of you toppled over on the bed and now you were used as a blanket, with his arms wrapped securely around you; preventing you from getting up. Not that you were planning on doing that anytime soon but moving on-

-You thought he had fallen back asleep, because he went really quiet and he stopped squirming to get comfortable. To be exact, the whole room was rather still and the only thing you could really hear was Belphie’s soft breathing and the rustle of the bedsheets every once in a while. And since it was extremely dark as well, you couldn’t see a thing either so it felt like the best place to let go of your stress

-It’s not like you were making much noise but as I said, the seventh born wasn’t sleeping just yet. And he wouldn’t be able to because it was obvious to him now that something was wrong. He believed that he was bearing witness to something that should’ve been a lot more private than this so he didn’t say anything. You should have your moment, let you have a chance to recollect your thoughts and the next day, he might ask you

-It was too much to handle. It’s not like he was gonna get any sleep unless he knew your problem was solved otherwise he might get nightmares all night. Besides, if you’re crying this much, then something terrible must’ve happened. You realised he was awake when he gave your entire body a small squeeze, as if to reassure you and you froze because did you just wake him up???? Or worse, did he hear all that sobbing you were doing????

-Hugging him is similar to hugging a pillow. He’s soft and squishy and warm and it’s impossible to resist him when rest at a time like this is so tempting. His fingers running over your pact mark once or twice, as if to remind you that he’s right there and low whispers describing the best dream he ever had about you, hoping to distract you for long enough to help you fall asleep

-To him, it doesn’t make a difference if a family member died or if you’re just having a bad day. All he knows is that you’re having a lot of emotional problems because of either one and as a result, you need a shoulder to lean on. He’s glad that you trust him enough to let him assist and if it was up to him, he would keep cuddling you forever. You’ve already suffered enough so let him take care of you this time around, OK?

“Dumbass, why are you crying?” The gentleness of his words was a clear contrast to that quick insult he shoved at the beginning of his statement, though you couldn’t hear any malice behind it and the fact that he really cared about what happened to cause you to struggle with your emotions so badly, would’ve made you wail even harder. However, he managed to silence you pretty well because he kept speaking and you wanted to listen; you wanted to hear what he had to say so you reduced your sobs and you sat quietly enough to do just that. Belphie flipped you over, now with him on top and you underneath and he laid there, cheek sloshed against yours as he sleepily mumbled out more praise for you, “MC, are you tired? You should go to bed, you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can tell me what the problem is and I’ll help. I promise-I’ll even get up early for you. Just…please calm down. I don’t want to see you crying yourself to sleep ever again. I’ll stay here the entire time, alright? And I’ll make sure you have nice dreams tonight MC…just let me hold you…”

[chericarlisle]

You asked for Carlisle Cullen requests and I am here to deliver❤️ can I ask for a fic where the reader finally confesses to Carlisle they are in love with him? Preferably fluffy with some kisses 😌, I would also prefer the reader not be a doctor or nurse if possible! Thank you so much!

𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞�� 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐜.𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: i hope you enjoy this! i tried to think of a way to get the two to meet, but have it still correlate! so the reader will be Alice’s friend :) thank you for requesting <3 please know that the reader is NOT a minor!!!

For the years that you had attended Forks High, you had grown close to a certain Cullen daughter, Alice. Her personality was that of a pink rose and its symbolism. She was more than one could want in a best friend, and between her amazing advice or sense of fashion, there was never a dull moment. 

Unlike a majority of the students, Alice was genuine and welcoming, causing the two of you to grow close as friends. It made you feel like high school wasn’t so bad after all.

As you talked more and more with Alice, you often wondered why the rest of her family was so reserved. They rarely interacted with any one else who didn’t share the last name ‘Cullen’. Alice, though, was the exception, having branched out to you.

 It seemed that being friends with Alice was something that was a package deal because on occasion, she’d bring along her boyfriend Jasper. You didn’t question their family dynamic as Alice had already explained in simplest terms who they were. It was a much better definition than what Jessica had told you and the rest at that table on the first day. Looking back, it was more petty gossip than it was useful information.

For the first summer, you didn’t see much of Alice and rather texted her much more. You’d invite her over, but it appeared that they were on a long family vacation that summer. It was then that you truly realized that you knew nothing about Alice, let alone the Cullens, aside from what you had been told at school. 

There was something that constantly affected Alice’s decision making, along with her siblings, but you didn’t yet know that factor, and you wouldn’t for a while. Instead, you let your mind consume the harsh option that Alice wasn’t exactly the person you thought she was. Maybe she really was just like the rest of the Forks High students. 

Fortunately, your fears were consoled that next school year.

After much consideration, Alice eventually invited you over to her house where you officially met the rest of the Cullens. Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper acted so much differently than they did at school in the way that they even acted at all. Normally, they would just go through the school day rarely interacting with any one or anything else but themselves. It made you curious as to why they weren’t like this at school. They seemed to be such lovely people so why would they be so monotonous for eight grueling hours of the day. 

You were able to see where they got those characterful values from. Well, more so who.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen, their adoptive father who looked too young to be a father at all and was so perfect that he must’ve been a hallucination. 

Since that moment three years ago, you’d gone over almost every other weekend to do whatever extravagant thing Alice had planned for you. She hadn’t had a real friend in so long that she wanted to make up for all the missed time. 

Over the course of time, the man, who you knew only as Dr. Cullen, had caught your eye. His compassionate mannerism and old fashioned style was something that just seemed to make you fall head over heels. At the mere sight of Dr. Cullen, the heat of your cheeks would make itself known and you wanted nothing more than to slap some sense into yourself. Whenever he spoke, you shamefully latched onto every word, his voice ever so comforting. The small smile resting on his lips whenever he spoke to you added even more charm and there was no hope left for you. This man made you swoon and you were so embarrassed over the fact that he was the adoptive father of your best friend. 

High school graduation arrived in no time and along with it a huge family secret. A family secret that wasn’t yours, but once again, relating to the Cullens. 

The family revealed it at a dinner, which was a rare occasion, considering that you hadn’t ever really seen them eat. You came over to their house like any other visit, except this time, the inviting smell of a freshly cooked dinner greeted you at the door. 

The lovely dinner and charming smiles were all just the calm before the storm. Playful conversation ceased and suddenly Carlisle was speaking on behalf of everyone at the table. In a matter of seconds, it went from ‘casual family dinner' to ‘game show questionnaire' that was borderline an interrogation with the lack of feedback you were receiving. None of the Cullens, not even Alice, would confirm or deny any inquiries that left your mouth, leaving you to your own judgment. It was almost like your speculation was crucial to ending the slew of questions. 

Eventually, you drew up the conclusion that they were vampires. You said this with such lighthearted intent that you were waiting for the big joke until you scanned the tables and saw their emotionless expressions.

All that you could really remember was falling from your dinner chair with Carlisle, who was sitting right beside you, catching your fall before you became close friends with the hardwood floor. 

Needless to say, it took a moment to process this information, but you still continued on with Alice and her family. They were still the same Cullens you had known since the beginning and a small sliver of their real life wasn’t going to change who they were to you.

A couple of months later, you were spending the night with Alice for the weekend. She wanted to go visit Seattle for the day and do some holiday shopping. You readily agreed, remembering that you had to get some gifts for your own family. Shopping with Alice was always an experience, but an entertaining time nonetheless.

You had gotten there Friday night as both you and Alice planned to leave the next morning. There was no point in leaving now as the stores had been closed for at least a couple of hours. 

Walking in the living room, you saw Emmett and Rosalie thoroughly invested in a comedy on tv. You had invited Rosalie to go shopping, but long hours with Alice in a store was not an activity for the less patient and she knew this. Edward was apparently missing from the scene, but Jasper, who was standing afar, greeted you and said that he was out with Bella. Jasper had finally loosened up around you, and after the family’s confession, you understood why he looked so uncomfortable all the time. The willpower these people had astonished you. 

Alice had disappeared after letting you in and it wasn’t until she returned with Dr. Cullen in tow, that you truly noticed she was gone. You bashfully greeted the doctor to which he returned with his signature smile that could make you melt. 

“I know this is bad timing, (y/n),” Alice walked to stand beside you, “But I have to go hunt, as do my siblings. You’ll stay here with Carlisle. He doesn’t need to go with us right now and we can't leave you alone.” By the end, the petite vampire was smirking and you jokingly scowled at her little plan. She knew of your silly crush on Carlisle and would relentlessly tease you about it, as a best friend would. 

Before you could even answer, Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice were out of the room without so much as a peep. You shook your head at Alice’s sneakiness, forgetting for a second that a certain someone was left with you.

“How about I make you some dinner, (y/n)?” 

The way he said your name was something you could never handle. It just rolled off his tongue like any other word would, but with the hint of his accent, it sounded so lovely.

“I don’t mean to be a nuisance. Dr. Cullen.” 

Already flustered with the whole situation, the last thing you wanted was to bother Dr. Cullen any more than you thought you’d already done. 

As if he could read minds, the blonde stopped in his tracks to face you. “Please, call me Carlisle and you are never an inconvenience, (y/n). Besides, I’ve already hunted so I’m more than happy to be here with you.” 

Carlisle, being kind as usual, shouldn’t have said such words because your brain was currently going into a frenzy as his thoughtfulness. If it was possible, your heart must’ve been beating faster than what would be considered healthy for someone actively working out. 

You weren’t able to find the words, but instead able to offer what you hoped was an endearing grin.

In the kitchen, Carlisle searched the desolate fridge in hopes of finding some food. The kitchen and its appliances were more of decor than they ever were useful. 

After a minute or two, Carlisle closed the freezer door of the fridge, a pack of steak in his hand. 

“It seems steak will have to do tonight.” 

You shot him a pleased look. “You can’t go wrong with steak.” Famous last words.

While you insisted on cooking your own food, Carlisle returned the same persistence and eventually you gave in. 

The two of you carried on a conversation while he cooked. Talking with him seemed so natural that for a moment, you weren’t nervous about talking to this man.

Carlisle plated the steak and brought it before you, an excited look painted on your face. He sat down beside you and eagerly waited to see how the steak turned out. At first, you felt a bit bad that he wasn’t going to eat anything, especially after all the trouble he had gone through.

“Carlisle, are you sure you’re fine? It just feels so wrong eating in front of you like this!” 

He chuckled, quickly placing his hand on your own to reassure you. “I’m fine, truly. I just hope it’s edible.” 

You grabbed the steak knife, jokingly rolling your eyes at his statement. Upon cutting into the steak, an unpleasant rush of cow blood came out revealing that the steak was far from even being rare. 

Immediately your plate was being scooped up and brought to the kitchen counter where you joined Carlisle. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s been some time since I’ve cooked anything and it seems that I haven’t caught up with modern cooking principles.” Carlisle looked a bit sheepish at the moment and you couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips. You weren't sure if it was the unintentional term of endearment or his adorable attempt at cooking. Either way, Carlisle was relieved to see that you weren’t upset, but rather enjoying this moment. 

You stepped up beside Carlisle at the stovetop, shoulders touching as you reached across for the seasonings. “Here, we should probably season the steak a bit and clean off the pan.” 

As you continued to do your own thing and guide Carlisle in cooking, he carefully took each word of your advice.

“See, you did everything right, Carlisle. It was just the heat and time that threw off the doneness of the steak, a bit.” Your words ended with a small twinkle as you turned to face the man who’d been so intently watching. He seemed to be so entranced at the moment… and by you. 

It was like time was frozen and everything moved in slow motion, something you’d only see in a cheesy movie scene, except you were living it. Suddenly, life sped up and Carlisle’s cold hand was cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss. You were happy that this was how you’d “confess” your love to Carlisle because words weren’t exactly your strong spot given the circumstances.

You two stayed lip locked for the longest moment in time, just pure bliss. It seemed like the kiss would never end until the smell of burnt oil hit your nose. Carlisle could feel you smiling against his lips and you began to peep out a small laugh. 

“I think we overcooked this one a little too much.”

a/n: i’m sorry if this is cringe-worthy, i wrote this at 12:30 am. i swear it will get better lol i just need to stop writing at ungodly hours of the night--

[calpops]

forgotten | c.h.

Its not unusual for your birthday to be forgotten by many; it’s never a surprise to receive last minute, half hearted texts from friends or belated cards from family. It’s always been easy to let it roll off your back when you have Calum by your side. But the first year he forgets your special day, it crushes you.

aka it’s my birthday and I’ll post relatable angst if I want to :)

1.8k words

my masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world

Copyright © 2021 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

* * *

Calum comes home with a heavy feeling in his chest as he notices all the lights are out. It’s only just past eight; usually there would be at least one glowing window lit up by lamp light with you sat with a book in wait for him. Tonight it’s dark and quiet as he enters the house. Soft music doesn’t spill around the corners. The tv isn’t a muffled call to your bedroom. Duke’s paws don’t even click as they come around the corner to greet him. It’s silent and empty and it all echoes around him as he slips off his shoes and goes in search of you.

The bedroom door is closed, no light spills under it. No noise breaks through the wood. His hand apprehensively reaches for the doorknob, trying to be quiet as the night falls on his shoulders. The door softly swings open with a sigh and as his eyes become accustomed to the dark he notices the shape under the covers. You’ve tucked yourself in, a spill of hair on the pillow, arms pulling the sheets taut up around your chin. Duke laying beside you, undisturbed and too uncaring to move from his perch. Calum smiles, soft and serene as he winds way around the bed to kiss you goodnight.

He stops short at the sight of you. Moonlight glimmers against tear tracks down your sullen cheeks. Red, puffy eyes stay tightly shut. Calum’s smile quickly turns to a frown, an ache consuming him as he drops to a knee and reaches gentle fingers out to stroke through your hair. He doesn’t understand why you’re feeling this way but it doesn’t stop him from consoling you. Your eyes flutter open slowly and as you register his presence you bite your lip as fresh tears gather in your eyes.

You pull away from him, bury yourself back under the covers and stay silent.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Calum’s voice is soft and encouraging, trying to coax some words out of you. When you don’t speak, only slightly shake as his hands glide over your arms, Calum feels crestfallen. The silence threatens to swallow him whole. Usually, he knows what’s wrong, can pinpoint the reason for your emotions and pain.

“It’s nothing, okay, it’s just stupid.”

Your explanation is shaken and does little to instill faith in its reason. Calum shakes his head. He wants to tell you that there’s no such thing as a stupid reason for being upset but the words stall in his throat as he tries to climb in next to you but you make no room.

“It’s like this every year. I should be used to it by now.”

Your next explanation further drives Calum to worry. In a snap moment, like a wave crashing over his head, he finally understands. His hand darts to his phone in his pocket, your birthday lighting up the date on the screen. He lets out a broken and uneasy breath as all of the implications try to drown him.

He forgot your birthday. You’ve been alone all day.

“Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers with a strain in his voice.

He can feel his own tears pooling in his eyes, shame and guilt assaulting all of his senses. He’s never missed your birthday before. Has always been there from the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep. You’ve confided your dislike of the day to him multiple times; he’s noted that he’s the only one who remembers. Cards from family come in days late, texts from friends are last minute and half hearted. All you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever asked for on your special day is to have him around.

You shudder out a broken breath, shift under the sheets but make no move to let him in or come closer.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy at the studio. That comes first, I understand,” you whisper so lowly it’s barely audible but it still cuts deep against Calum’s racing heart.

“It’s not okay, it doesn’t come first,” he tries to reassure and tentatively reaches out for you again. This time, you don’t flinch away. He takes it as a good sign. “I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not the first person to forget, you won’t be the last. It’s always been like this.” You finally shift up and Calum opens his arms for you though there’s little hope in his chest that you might collide into his embrace. It takes you a moment, bleary eyes being rubbed and lip trembling, to get collected. Your gaze meets his. “I’m just glad you’re home now.”

His faith nearly knocks him off his knee as you collide into him and wrap your arms around his neck. Bury your face against the strength of his shoulder. Weep in a small but heart breaking way.

“I’m home,” he repeats and furrows his brows, knowing it’s not enough. His entire chest aches and his eyes burn but he holds his composure, knowing his guilt needs to be put on the back burner for you; it’s small in comparison to the emotions and abandonment that have sat with you all day. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

He almost promises that he won’t let go, he won’t leave, but a plan burns through the back of his mind and he knows his departure is imminent. He takes solace in the fact you’re exhausted enough to be led back to laying down with heavy eyelids. He murmurs and hums to you until your eyes flutter closed and he’s sure you’re asleep by the sound of your even breathing.

He stands, stretches and keeps his eyes on you for as long as possible. When he finally cuts around the corner of the bed he pats Duke’s head.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back,” he whispers to the old dog, hoping if you wake again his presence will suffice until he’s back.

He’s not gone long. His plan is simple but he hopes it’s enough. You’ve never asked for anything, but the hopes of restoring your ruined day live in petals and icing and charms. He goes back into the house and makes a beeline for the bedroom, gently wakes you and guides you up.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you rub the sleep and leftover sadness from your eyes.

Calum shakes his head, winds his arms around you and helps you to your feet. Your wobbly at first, emotionally exhausted after all of the turmoil. You lean into his side and for the feeling of your warmth against him he’s grateful.

“Trying to make it right,” he answers as he guides you away from the bed and towards the door. “There’s still a few hours of your birthday left. Let me try, okay?”

You nod as you’re led out of the bedroom and to the dimly lit kitchen. Calum walks you to the bar where flowers, some with already dying petals, sit in a vase. A lone cupcake with a candle and flame sits alongside the flowers. A small breath leaves you at the effort. While Calum feels it’s lame, the last picks at the store on the shelf, his heart still hammers at the genuine appreciation in your eyes.

“Come sit,” he encourages as he props a stool around for you. You do as he bids and he looms behind you to softly sing happy birthday in your ear; each line punctuated by a small kiss to your neck, shoulder, cheek, anywhere his lips can reach. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Make a wish.”

He brings the cupcake and the flaming candle towards you, gentle hands holding it within your breath’s reach. You turn to face him as you take the cupcake, his eyes soften as yours find his. You blow it out in one small huff and remove the candle. The frosting and cupcake are a bit stale but you share the treat with a few soft giggles and a swipe of chocolate to his nose. Though the petals are dying you pull the vase to the center of the counter before turning back to Calum to put yourself securely in his arms.

“I didn’t need the flowers or cupcake,” you start and before Calum can speak any words of you deserving more you continue on. “I just need you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. His fingers stroke through your hair and his hands come to settle on the small of your back. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again. You’ll always have me. Any day. Every day. I promise.”

You nod against his chest, your trust and faith in him infallible even after the day of desertion and misery.

“Then my wish came true,” you whisper as your cheeks blaze at the confession. Calum chuckles as you further hide against him. “You can’t laugh at me. It’s still my birthday.”

And even when the sun rises the next day, birthday long gone and the heartache of being alone starting to be forgotten, Calum wakes you with a surprise. You sit up to see him throwing your clothes in open luggage.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, eyebrows furrowed as you watch him neatly fold and then haphazardly throw garments in the bag.

“Packing your stuff.”

He doesn’t further explain and it prompts a, “why?” from you.

“So you have clothes to wear on our vacation.” He gives you a broad smile as the words roll off his tongue and he reaches behind him to throw papers onto the bed. They settle at your feet and you reach down to retrieve them, blurry words coming in and finally being processed. Boarding passes.

“Vacation?”

“Two weeks. Just us,” Calum explains as he goes back to packing your things for you. “We leave in an hour.”

The time limit pushes you up from the bed, his effort and act of grandeur making you throw yourself into his arms. Your clothes drop to the floor in favor of him bringing you closer.

“That’s more than I could have asked for,” you whisper with a crack in your voice.

Calum only smiles and finally says the words he’d been thinking for so long. “You deserve even more than this. Sorry it’s late. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

* * *

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[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[silversupremacy]

ii s3 cabana house

This is the weirdest thing to focus on- but here’s my floor plan in my brain for a cabana in ii s3. A few things got swapped (in the bedroom part there were so many spots I realized it wouldn’t work w/ my idea of each room when they’re right next to each other >.> ) but it’s fine it works now.

This house plan is specifically New Pinker’s in mind because that’s where most of my writing and drawing has been for, but I’d imagine that all cabanas have roughly the same stuff, just slightly different floor plans depending on who’s in what room.

Pls excuse the messy sketches

Everything is ‘wheelchair’ accessible for Cabby and Goo (though Goo can go up stairs it takes so long to do it it’s just easier to not have stairs.) The only exception is that I put a porch on the front of the cabana so that character’s can look out wistfully while sitting on the steps BUT there’s a ramp that’s easy access and not too long that it’s annoying.

The living room is a step down into a couch pit- like this

Note nothing I am drawing is to scale so if you’re like “wow that’s not a lot of space for cabby to get around” I’m doing this quick man I’m not measuring anything it’s just the rough visuals.

The TV didn’t come with too much but they have the equivalent of a netflix subscription and some people brought dvds and their gaming consoles. Paintbrush brought their equivalent of a Switch console and the group plays mario kart like every night. Plus the tv can connect to laptop if you want to jsut pirate content Mephone literally does not care.

There’s a large dining table in the main room equipped w/ stools (fun fact there is not a single chair in any of these houses! It’s just easier since every one is a different size and has different tails and shit it just gets annoying to get custom fitted chairs :I ). Most food is gotten fresh from the pic-nix table, but they have a fridge in the kitchen to store things longer term (Not gonna go to magic table at like 2am).

Contestants are free to bring/get brought their own stuff if they want to, which is why they have an electric tea kettle in the kitchen that does exact temperature water because silver spoon is not going to drink green tea with boiling water now is he??

The kitchen is equipped with a fridge, oven/stove, sink, and counters/cabinets. There is a smaller dining table in the kitchen as well. There is also a door to outside from the kitchen, there isn’t a porch or anything on that side.

Everyone has like, their own little corner of a shelf in the cabinets in the kitchen where they store whatever they want. Balloon has a collection of stuff his family sent him from the ii-verse equivalent of Mexico (Hispanic/Mexican balloon headcanon my beloved... Also side note I’m not hispanic so my entire experiences of “family sends you shit from home country” is cause my family in france does that.) Silver spoon has jsut like so much tea, way too much tea, his side of the cabinet is just tea. Paintbrush has snack packages that they got sent from Lightbulb. I’d imagine bow just having like chocolate cake mix boxes and frosting tins that she jsut eats the frosting from w/ a spoon.

Ok ok uh next quick run down of the bedrooms. Two beds per room, they each get their own dresser where they can store things but they also get a small closet. Are the closets here just so I can write abt people kissing in them? Maybe so... The bathrooms are equipped with a sink and a shower. Random ginger objectkind anatomy fact they do not go to the bathroom, because ginger doesn’t like unsanitary >:(((((( but I excuse it as; objectkind creatures are optimized for using all aspects of food and drink they consume, turning all of it into pure energy. So like at worst they sweat out anything they don’t use.

Uuh otherwise the roommate pair ups in my stories for New Pinkers is Test Tube and Paintbrush, Bowbot and Silver, and Cabby and Balloon. Now technically Cabby wouldn’t have lived in the New Pinker’s cabana because the ep where they merge teams she also gets eliminated so there wouldn’t have been time for her to do anything BUT *waves arms wildly* leave me alone I want objects living their lives :(((

Misc note abt the Cabby and Balloon room, it has a slightly larger bathroom so it’s easier for Cabby to move around in it, as well as a larger closet cause I didn’t just wanna have a random bit of closet coming off the wall for no reason so like- longer one it is...

THATS IT that’s the whole post that was literally all I had to say abt this. Hopefully I didn’t forget anything??

[timextoxhajima]

The Boyz as things and feelings (just cause)

this is a small thing @haechanhues​ needed help with so i decided to make it an actual post uwu [this is gonna be pretty long cause i might write little scenarios]

[THE BOYZ AS THINGS AND FEELINGS]

SANGYEON - MIRRORS AND PILLOWS

mirrors make a place look bigger than it really is - i feel like sangyeon has that ability to make you feel like you’re more important on your worst days

the things he’ll do just to make sure you’re alright, even when he knows you’re not

he also has the ability to reflect what you need: sad? he’ll come and hug you and let you cry or talk about your shitty day. happy? he’ll joke about the way you snort while laughing then he’d probably do something dumb to keep the energy up there

mirrors also feel very private and at-home, and that exactly how i feel he curates an environment

pillows are self-explanatory ig, smth to cry into, smth to fall asleep with while hugging, has the best homely scents ever, very comfortable

i imagine going home after a long day and finding your partner also tired, but he’s cooking or like in the couch watching tv and he just invites you into his arms uwu

“tell me about everything! whatever that makes you happy or sad and i’ll try my best to be who you need at that point of time!”

JACOB - FLOWERS AND MUSIC

ok like jacob with a guitar is just a stellar sight to behold, he looks like he was born to hold one, and his vocals are super underrated imo, most of tbz’s discography doesnt really suit his voice - i really wish he had a chance to have more lines in more ballads or maybe even a solo thing

he would drag you out to go on walks after he knows you’ve buried yourself in your work the whole day, and he’d be the kind to stop at a pretty flower and contemplate plucking it but he wouldn’t cause he’s a fairy and wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a pretty flower

would probably play a piece in the background while you’re stressed w work and hum a tune so the singing wouldn’t distract you

would stop when he notices you stopped working and your sad ass is probably crying lmao

he’s a very soft and gentle man imo

he’s the innocent daisy amidst other bright colored, flamboyant flowers but he still stands out

“i’ll grow you a rose bush in the yard so i don’t have to be sad about plucking flowers next time.”

YOUNGHOON - WINTER COATS AND COFFEE AND PASTRIES

he definitely radiates tsundere vibes on first sight, but when you get to know him, he’s obviously the opposite: a crybaby

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up his model-like appearances when he’s outside - in fact, he’d be the one to influence you into caring more about how you look (of course not materialistically, but more into actually caring about making yourself feel good with your fashion and appearance)

i chose winter coats as a symbol of coverage - he doesn’t show much of himself unless he’s close to you (like when you wear winter coats to keep warm, he’s a burrito because he doesn’t bother too much about sharing his feelings), but when he does, it feels like he has the ability to keep you warm and comfortable, even on the coldest days, even if his inner savage comes out

it’ll be like he scooped you into his coat and has you warm in one of this inner breast pockets

i see him as the kind to get regular coffee and like, a tart or something, at a cafe. it adds on to the warmth, when he remembers what you like. the details. maybe you like your coffee with cinnamon or less sugar or something, but then he tops it up with a muffin and he knows you like it heated up so he specifically asks for them to do so

ok but he’s defo the kind of guy that catches people’s attention at public spaces so every now and then when he’s laughing or smiling, some girl would gawk at him and he would be embarrassed about it, but lucky for you, you’re already wearing matching coats so they know the man’s taken uwu

“if only they knew how long it took to convince you to wear that coat.”

HYUNJAE - CONCERTS AND CONVENIENCE STORE DATES

classy but calm. dream-like but realistic. 

i say concerts as in the instrumental, ballad kinds. he loves it and he knows you probably need the sleep where you have that kind of background white noise/music that provides you the best quality of sleep there is. but when you’re not dosing off, he’s admiring how much time you’re willing to invest into being at something he loves

of course, in turn, he doesn’t complain much when you’re hungry and you meet him down the street at the nearest convenience store for some instant noodles and potato chips with a coke and he lets you ramble about your day 

he would probably buy you an ice cream just so you’d feel better, then regret it when you get a stomachache later cause it was like 2am in the morning

you probably have like 5 of his hoodies at home that you refuse to wash cause his scent is tainted all over it and the only time he gets to take them home is when he stays over or visits and he sneaks one into his bag when you’re in the kitchen making tea or a bowl of noodles

then you’ll get it back without even knowing it was gone

the kind that would probably surprise you after a day of work with a casual date idea to the movies, and i mean showing up at your place, impromptu, after he knows you’re home with two tickets 

“act like my girlfriend for once and go on a date with me, would you? your work isn’t going to be there with you when you die at 90.”

JUYEON - STARGAZING AND VR GAMES

as dumb and sometimes bimbotic as he seems he is, he’s gotten most of the visible constellations memorised and he would not hesitate from telling you all about his childhood with his family when they would travel and try to spot every single constellation they can remember

which brings me to the point where he remembers what you like, but... backhandedly. he doesn’t remember what you like but he remembers what you hate instead, so you don’t ever have to worry about getting that licorice flavoured jelly bean

he would offer a midnight walk to help you relieve your stress, cause he knows you just like seeing the nightsky amidst the peace and quiet while he rambles on for his own satisfaction. not everything has to be so emotionally attached and shared. you can share blissful moments without being the reason for each other’s and that’s totally fine.

juyeon is kind of a scaredy cat in the sense that he isn’t really into horror movies or games but he’s always had that dream to become a pilot and so for his birthday, you brought him to a vr game arcade where he played some plane simulator and ever since, you’ve been taking turns to surprise each other with a new vr arcade spot or adding on to the vr game console set you have at home

“maybe i should digitalise you so i can see you in the vr game”

KEVIN - KARAOKE SESSIONS AND NEON LIGHTS

the best-friend kind of partner you would come across once in a lifetime

a billion film shots of you after he drags you to the karaoke and he beats you at super intense songs like the bohemian rhapsody just cause he can hit those high notes and solely because he was screaming on the floor when he did it

almost left his film camera behind 

absolutely LOVES those walks along streets where there are a million neon lights

would come across that one sus neon light signs that indicate a sex toy store and he would give you that sly smile and probably joke for you to go in 

kevin has a moon neon light in his room and you have a star or something (whatever you want)

corrects your grammar and pronunciation, only for you two to bicker about it even more when you use google translation and there are different pronunciations depending on where/what accent you’re using

he really is your light in the dark, even if he’s known to be introverted. once he’s comfortable enough with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world

has one of those portable speaker microphones at home and he drones on and on and on with some billie eilish song until you hurl a pillow at him

“so you’re the tough girl, like it really rough girl, justcan’tgetenoughofkevingirl, chest always so puffed girl”

CHANHEE - DUETS AND STRAWBERRY PICKING

(i could not find a more candid, softer aesthetic pic for chanhee rip)

his entire wardrobe fits you - the only problem is that he’ll never let you wear it in fear that you’d stain or tear something

shared playlists because that’s how similar your taste in music is, and so sometimes when you have your earpiece in and you’re humming the melody of that song, chanhee picks it up immediately despite not hearing that song, and ends up harmonising with you

got kicked out of the library once or twice because it was exam period and the two of you won’t shut up

ironically doesn’t sing that much if you’re not around

chanhee is a true blue introvert - which is a miracle that you’ve managed to tear through that barrier of his and find out that he giggles at every stupid thing you do: he’s having a bad day? trip over the pavement. he’ll laugh. it works

dragging him out to go strawberry picking was so difficult - but of course chanhee isn’t safe from how beautiful and enticing the fresh fruits were.

didn’t touch anything strawberry flavoured OR any strawberries for the next month or so

his straightforwardness comes with the breakdown of his barrier - but that’s what brings you comfort. he will never lie, he will only be sarcastic and even then, you’d know it’s true

i used duets as a symbol of harmony and being in-sync, though never really exactly the same, and that’s how it is with chanhee. your thoughts are very similar even though he’s much more introverted than you, but that’s what binds you 

“i’m gonna tell the librarian i don’t know you if we get kicked out again.”

CHANGMIN - CITY TOURS AND MATCHING OUTFITS

city tours - the kind that you already know inside out and yet you STILL travel the area as if you were a tourist 

that’s exactly how it is with changmin: you know him inside out, after being friends for so long, but it never gets old

you’re used to him biting your hand out of nowhere and yet it startles you all the time. that stupid chucky doll in his living room? old, but it never fails to scare you

he doesn’t ever talk about it that much, but he loves it when you co-ordinate outfits

no, it doesn’t mean you wear couple tees, but it’s aesthetically pleasing to changmin that if he wears cool tones, you would too

he’d be reserved about his thoughts and feelings sometimes but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think or feel them

there’s a strange sense of familiarity with changmin, because you kind of know what to expect but then you’re never disappointed, you know?

“i got you this white pigeon cause it looks like the one i already got... you can give it back to me if you don’t like it though-” /he takes it before you can accept it/

HAKNYEON - STAND UP COMEDY SHOWS AND RUNNING ALONG THE BEACH

there’s something about ju that makes it very casual and easy-going

he hates horror genred themes so fuck that, he would queue online just for the latest ali wong comedy show, even if it’s an online show, and he would laugh until he cried

sometimes he’s a drama queen but that makes it alot easier for you to know what he’s thinking or feeling - it makes communication alot easier

that means a lack of arguments

he’s also very empathetic but straightforward, exactly like how comedy shows are - because they are relatable, they are funny because they bring out the irony and sarcasm and all the dumb things in life that people are sometimes afraid of talking about and hak just says whatever he wants to say, even if he knows it might be hurtful or upsetting

he prioritises truth and honesty over anything else

it makes you a better person, honestly

beach walks - very calming, very liberating. he lets you yell and scream and kick sand back into the water because you can, and he does it with you

tries to teach you how to skip rocks but you suck and you can’t so he just pulls you away from the pile of rocks you amassed

“flick your wrist like that, not like you’re meowing!”

SUNWOO - SOCCER FRIENDLIES AND STUDIO SESSIONS

he will NOT go easy on you in a friendly match: you might be one of the fastest players of the female team but he’s ruthless in his ball-stealing, so even if you were fast enough to keep the ball out of his reach, he’d still be able to snatch it right out between your feet

very, very competitive and does not like to lose

you would always play the ‘ladies first’ card but then he’d throw the ‘feminism’ card back at you 

sometimes you act more like siblings than anything else 

the only time when he isn’t fuming with competition is if you’re injured because he accidentally tackled you - he’ll gracefully give himself a yellow card before absolutely trashing you in the next match

has one foot into the production game recently - likes to play with the beat board and mixing tunes, and since you’ve had your hand in doing music remixes for a deejay job before, you’re there to identify which songs have the same bass line or beat counts for easier mixing

would make you a playlist of remixes but wouldn’t admit that he spent a whole day in the studio without you just so it would be a surprise

a soft boy stuck in the wraps of an egoistic man

“a day? please. i illegally downloaded half these remixes off the internet cause i’d think you’re too internet-dumb to find them.”

ERIC - BAKING AND SKATEBOARDING

full of impromptu, casual ideas to hang out 

baking is a fucking mess - why did he suggest it when he doesn’t even have the right ingredients?

wanted to replace eggs with water - like ok thats supposedly healthier, but why????????????

he likes cleaning so that was the only fucking bonus in baking - had to call his mom for help halfway through because the cookies looked more like goop than playdough

gave up in the end and he repaid his debt by helping clean your kitchen

tried to teach you how to skateboard, but he ended up falling off his own in the process and now he’s got a grazed knee 

the kind of person you’d have so much chaotic fun with, he’s that friend your mom told you to NOT hang out with that much if not you’d get run down by a car 

has the most fucking random pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, like where did he even get that pink coat from?

“no you have to do this and like lift up your leg and then kinda rest your weight on it before flicking your ankle and like- whOA- OH OW OHNO OHOHOH OW”

[beewritings]

Break up texts with AOT characters

(Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Zeke & Porco)

AFAB reader

Content Warning: angst, fluff & some nsfw. Mentions of ddlg (?), semi public sex, I think that’s all. :)

Yes, all the times are the times I worked on them. I don’t sleep lmao. There are typos I see them in just unbothered to fix them

Eren

You drive over to Eren’s place about ten minutes later. You already cried and did your little heartbreak grieving before leaving. To be fair , you just wanted to have sex with him one more time. Unless he gets into a new relationship, you wouldn’t mind being his friends with benefits, but considering the fact you’re in love with him... it’s a hard no. You get there after fifteen minutes of driving, you have a spare key which you will be returning so you just walk in. You see him sitting on the couch of his apartment, leaning forward with his legs spread and his head in his hands. He looks up and sees you. You walk to him and sit on the couch in front of him.

“Hey...”

“Hey.”

The awkward silence was so uncomfortable, you honestly didn’t want him to say the words to you again. You just wanted to see him, to have him. One more time before you avoid him forever.

Armin

You feel bad that you broke up with Armin through text, but you didn’t have the guts to tell him in person. But since he was so calm about it, you decided to go and visit him a few hours later. When you get to his dorm which was just across from your dorm building, you do your knock so he knows it’s you. He rushes to the door and greets you with a smile and asks why you’re there. You tell him how you felt bad that you broke up with him by text and wanted to check on him.

“Y/n, I’m fine! It was only 4 months, it takes longer than that for me to fall in love. I saw us as baby couple, just trying it out until it gets serious. I’m not angry, I’m not upset. Don’t worry, y/n. And the way we can still be friends? It makes me happier!”

Let’s just say that a few days later, you crawled right back to him asking him for you back. Eren told him it’s because his dick game strong, and even though Armin knows his game is strong, he knows that you just have a kind heart and that’s why you’ve been attracted to him. Now it’s been over a year and you have a promise ring on your finger :)

Jean

You and Jean are literally in the same apartment. You LIVE with him. You’re in the bathroom and he was cooking food. He texts you telling you to get off the toilet and go to the kitchen so you finish your business and do what he says. You get to the kitchen to smell the beautiful food and you approach your husband.

“You’re joking right? About not feeling it between us?”

“Of course I’m joking, I’m literally married to you. Today is our 2 year anniversary. Jean, did you get high before cooking? Did Eren sneak in here and let you smoke? Are you good?”

Jean holds your waist, giving you kisses on your forehead. He pushes you lightly against the counter next to the stove. He shoves his face into your neck, leaving those gorgeous black and blue galaxies on your neck.

“Really? Before our guests come over? You’re such a bad boy, do I have to punish you later tonight?”

“If anyone’s getting punished, it’s you for pretending to break up with me,” he lifts you up and puts you on the counter, going in between your legs. He lifts up your skirt, leavings kisses all on your thighs making his way to your core. “Now, you be a good girl and let daddy take care of you, yeah?”

Connie (yes the top text is cut off for a reason)

You googled break up texts because you wanted to mess with him, but his responses really disappointed you. Like geez prank gone stupid? When Connie gets to your place, he literally brought his switch and extra controllers and he pushes his way inside. You own the switch lite (pain) so you always ask him to bring his and connect it to the tv. He’s so focused on gaming with you that he doesn’t even pay attention the fact that you’re wearing lingerie. You don’t even want to play, you just wanted sum fuk. He finishes setting up the console and sits on the couch.

“Hey babe. Oh, nice. You look cute.”

“???? CUTE?”

“Yeah. You ready? Lets play.”

“Why am I dating you? You don’t even know how romance works.”

“Yes I do. If I win, I fuck. You win, I go down on you. Is that not how it works?”

“.... connie shut up and let’s just play.”

Reiner

You felt like the world was coming to an end. What made Reiner change his mind? You guys just made love the other night again, he took you out to eat last night, why today? Oh no... was he spoiling you to prepare you for heartbreak? Reiner doesn’t seem like that though.... why is he so poetic yet such an ass? It’s around 9 pm when he stops by with your belongings. You try to give him his goodies but he tells you to keep it. He allows you to cry in his arms, to kiss him one last time. And the whole time this happens, this man gets a raging fucking hard on. You know he had a thing for pain and degradation, but this is real life. Is he really getting turned on by a break up? But... it gives you a chance to have one last sex before he never comes back. Because god that man has a monster dong.

“Reiner.. whats with the hard on?”

He blushes, moving a hand to cover his crotch area. Unfortunately, your hand grips his cock this his pants before he does. He buckled his knees and legs out a strangled moan, just for you.

“Y/n, d-don’t do this..”

“Oh? Who’s the one who got a hard on from breaking up with me? Huh?”

Before you can do anything else, he pushes you off him, your ass landing on the bed. You were expecting one thing, but not what he does.

“Stop! Listen, I got to go. I hope you live a happy life... I love you...”

He walks towards your apartment door, swings it open and steps out.

“Take care.”

Zeke

After Zeke had texted you that, of course you cried. You didn’t know how to take it... he’s in his thirties and you’re only in college. Hell, you have class with his younger brother. But have fun? Go to parties and fuck other men? Like if you’re a cuck, just say it. If he REALLY wants you to party and sleep with other people, they could’ve just stayed in a relationship but make it open. He could’ve added some people to the sequence... you’ve always wanted a threesome, especially with a girl so you don’t understand why he’d just leave you. But you don’t even like parties or clubs. You love him, you want to be settled down. You wanted him. If he found another woman... he would’ve said that right? Or is he manipulative like you heard his brother was? Everyone knows about Eren, he’s a whore. Does it run in the family? No... he only broke up with you today. Just wait a bit before assuming.

A month passes, you went to one (1) party at a club with your dorm roommate, Hitch, and you had a terrible time. You saw one man drop something in your drink (which you proceeded to toss on his face), two others tried sandwiching you on the dance floor (which he elbowed them both in the face), and some other guy literally touched your thigh while trying to speak to you at the bar. You had enough. You socked him in the face, and went towards the bathroom area. You see a familiar face with an unfamiliar woman.

Zeke...

He had a woman with long black hair on his lap. No... it’s hidden but you could see it in plain sight. He had his cock stuffed inside her, under her skirt. She had this twisted face of pleasure and he wasn’t moving, nothing. She was moving her hips on his lap, pleasing him. She looks around and makes eye contact with you. She recognizes you as Zeke’s ex, and rides him quicker.

You look away, angrily and upset, you throw the cup you were babysitting on the floor in front of you, shattering it. People around who heard it look, including Zeke. He turn your head to look him dead in the eye with your look of disgust, and turn around to leave.

That was the last time you saw him or came in contact with him.

Porco

You sigh. You always were there for him on his shitty days. You feel bad leaving him stranded. So you ended up going over. You think it’s a bad idea and it probably is, but you’ll suffer the consequences if so. You drive to his apartment and walk in with the spare key you had. You don’t see him so you assume he’s in his room. You hear a faint sound, almost like a moan. You take a huge sigh. If he’s jerking off, you’re leaving. You walk in, opening his door and you see his back his facing you. He turns around and... he’s crying. Porco isn’t much of a crier so this really shocked you. You run to him, sitting next to him and hold his face.

“Pock, my baby...”

“Y/n, don’t leave me. Please... I know I’m a dickhead a lot and I know I’m a piece of shit. I hold so much anger in me and... I take it out in the wrong person. I’ll take anger management or something, I’ll go to a therapist. Just... please don’t leave me. You’re the reason I wake up, my sun and moon. The one I love, y/n please.. I want to build a future with you. I want to get married, have abratty little mommy’s boy with you and cute little daddy’s girl.... please.. Don’t leave me..”

Well shit. That was some convincing. After telling yourself 400 times to break up with him, he convinced you to stay this easily. After cuddling and holding him in your arms to nap, you woke up with your ass pressed against his dick. Yup, he’s hard. You can imagine what y’all did when he woke up.

You love Porco, and he was right. You wanted to build a future with him too. Maybe it’s time.

[rattlerinthewheel]

Hypocrite: Scud/Reader

You’re going to kill him, willingly, if the thirst doesn’t make you do it first.

For the Season of Kink bingo square: blood play.

For the Kinky Things Happen bingo square: blood and punishment.

@pille1983 asked for some choking, so included a little thing here. Grabby vampire gets grabby, necklace was in reach...

- - -

It’s an odd feeling, the room being dark but loud. The TV’s off, but the radio’s thumping somewhere else in the warehouse, turned up enough that the bass rumbles all the way over to the smaller room. It works up the couch’s frame, thrums through you, itching in a way that’s distracting. And you want a distraction, with how he’s leaning back. With how he’s scooping his hair out of the way, leaving his throat exposed.

"All yours, baby."

"Josh."

You’re going to kill him.

It’s not even that you’re pissed at him, at the end of your rope, put there by teasing and prodding. You’re too wound up, too focused on keeping your crouch from turning into a spring at him, to be mad. There’s no joke on his lips to make you, no glint to his eyes when he slants them towards you. For once, he’s deadly serious.

But you’re deadly. Thirst burns your throat like acid, shakes you with fine tremors that stutter the growl low in your chest. It cloys to the sides of your throat, the back of it, your tonsils, on its way out. So dry, so fucking dry, and Josh is right here and offering himself up...

You shake your head. It’s all you can do, all you can thaw without giving over to instinct. If you risk anything else you’ll be lunging, and then you’ll be opening your mouth, and then you’ll be draining him. Blade’s out, he’ll never get back in time to stop you, and you won’t let Josh go until you’ve had every last drop. You’ll kill him, really kill him, and you don’t think you’ll stop Blade from icing you when it comes to it.

But the slack look on Josh’s face hardens, just a bit. Enough for you to notice the nerves twitch and string.

"Said come here, bat," he sighs, patting his lap.

Your growl throttles, enough that you know he can feel it across the couch. "You got a death wish or something—"

You’re faster, but you’re thirsty and too busy honing in—not on purpose, fuck—on the pulse he’s offering up to jump away. His craftsman hand, steel under the soft, clamps around your wrist. His palm’s warm, flushed, and you drag your eyes off his neck to watch the blood blush out around the meat of his palm where he grabs, leak back fish belly-white when he eases his grip. Then it flares back out, warmer, when he redoubles his hold and yanks.

You flail, hissing, but there’s another firm grip hooked under your thigh and the lumpy couch under you is traded for a solid lap, and doesn’t this dumb boy know—

"You’re starving and," and the grip on your wrist jumps up to your face, craning it towards his neck while he hikes your bare leg—you’re just in your boxers, and fuck, you can feel his blood-heat through your flesh—to fold you up, "and I wanna try something."

"Wanna try death," you groan between your teeth.

The words come out flat, strained, because you’re trying not to breathe, trying to keep your eyes latched onto that stupid chain necklace and not the pulse thumping beneath. Your jaw locks, loosens, and locks enough times in a span of seconds that your whole face throbs, and you’re so, so tempted to just break it so you can’t clamp down.

"This’ll sting," is all the warning you get before something acidic sears into your thigh.

You snarl, and Josh releases you just as fast.

"Trial run. Sorry, bat."

Josh clucks his tongue like he isn’t sorry at all, wiggling the fingers of the hand that touched your thigh. You glare at the innocent-looking, fingerless glove that covers his palm. Something about it reeks, like rotten eggs and sulfur.

"Like it? Slipped it on when you were doing your impression of a viper. Not my favorite, if I’m honest. Too..." he hums, thinking, before turning his hand upside down and giving you reversed rabbit ears, "bitey."

Your growl only comes out as a pained moan, because you’ve got the shakes all of a sudden. Not thirst tremors. Sick shakes, like you’ve got the flu, and your leg has a rash of foreign pins and needles prickling that you shouldn’t be feeling.

"What," you groan, trying to flex your leg and only half-succeeding, "did you do?"

"Been fiddling around. Not exactly a fan of lethal-only weapons, what with a vamp on my side that can get fried in daylight."

A bone-tired, waterlogged feeling seeps into you like lead. "Uh huh."

Josh isn’t oblivious to your state. In fact, he takes advantage of it. You’re pliant, not limp but malleable enough that you’re positioned in his lap comfortably—for you and him. He goes on as he adjusts, "You’d be surprised what you can get blended up in fabrics these days. Best way I can explain it is, uh, those glow in the dark stickers? That, but bat repellent."

Another wiggle of fingers you want to bite off, despite how tired you are. "What?"

Josh’s easy grin drops, serious. "UV, bat. Try to keep up."

"No wonder I feel like shit," you growl, even as you feel some of your strength come back. "You’re fucking insane—"

"Ah."

You clam up at the noise. Not the threatening wave you get, that damn glove dangerously close to your thigh.

"Good, we’re making progress."

That easy grin returns and you bristle, regretting not draining him when you had the chance to.

"Now, drink."

You try to keep your mouth shut anyway, hold your breath, close your throat even as his non-gloved hand clamps the back of your neck and drags you close. You hate the ragged, pained whine of thirst and not wanting to kill him; but you hate the thirst a little more, and his thumb digging into the hinge of your jaw pries your teeth apart with no trouble at all.

You couldn’t turn him if you tried. You don’t have the... you don’t know if it’s a power, or something you have to activate that you haven’t figured out yet, or what—but you can’t turn him, and that’s good, because he’s already bound to a family and you’re good as dead if you turn a claimed familiar. Killing one? That’s an accident.

Turning? You’ll get staked.

That’s your consolation as you sink into his throat, fangs springing out and burying deep. Josh tenses, his grip goes slack, and you growl and push up so you’re straddling him. You seize that damn chain and yank it, and the flutter of his pulse, the throb of his windpipe as he tries to fight for a breath against the choke, works up some dark glee that gets you yanking it again. You gulp down hot mouthfuls that’s so, so good and...

... and you gasp, choke on the mouthful you inhale, as that goddamn glove skims your thigh.

"Easy," Josh warns, breathy but strong. Then he clears his throat, grimacing as he works his vocal chords, unintentionally tugging at the puncture wounds. "Ah, how ‘bout you use that tongue o’ yours?"

You’re recovering from the second touch, not as severe thanks to the blood, and you have just enough will to obey. Your grip on the necklace jumps off, and you frown at the pink marks you’ve embedded in the flesh: a ring of odd circles that’ll bruise. You don’t like having to lap at the blood that trickles down, either, like a damn dog; you smear just as much of it as you swallow, slathering his throat in red and saliva. But your throat isn’t parched, you don’t feel sick, and gradually, you begin working on cleaning him up.

"Do not get hard," you hiss, even if that’s too late to warn against; between his jeans and your boxers, there’s hardly enough fabric to hide the half-attentive shaft you’re sitting on.

"Hypocrite," Josh purrs, not touching with the glove but tenting his hand, fingers keeping his palm hovering, so it’s close enough that you feel the UV radiate. You don’t feel sick over it, just prickling, like burrs on the other side of a thick layer of clothes, so you feel...

... well, you feel like a hypocrite.

"This," you tell him, continuing to lap up your dinner, "will not become a thing."

But you can’t bring yourself to bare your fangs at the lazy, high-looking (he isn’t, his blood’s refreshingly plain) grin Josh gives. Or argue when he hums, "It will," in a sing-song pitch that clashes poorly with the dark and the thumping music.

About as well as a familiar and the vampire that can’t claim him.

[crystaldwightsworld]

Leon & Patrick headcanons/fluff, platonic

- They had kinda been friends, talked a lot while on the job, comfortable enough with each other that they both have their personal cell numbers but things don't escalate until after the 'incident' at the White House.

- Patrick's shock over the whole situation never really wears off. He thinks about it on the daily, what he could have done differently, pained that he couldn't have done more to help Spacer. But, then again, it had all happened so fast... he had turned so quickly...

- Patrick avoids that hallway as much as he can but when it's not practical for him to, he has to take it. The first time sends him into a full on panic attack and he does try to brush it off but when Leon finds him by himself in the coffee lounge, he's quick to address it, helping him bear through it, refusing to leave him alone.

- Per Patrick's request that they talk things over in a more private setting, Leon had ordered enough take out to feed a family and had suggested that they go back to his or Patrick's place. Patrick had wanted to help pay for half of it but Leon had insisted that he pay, that he didn't mind and that he was the one who invited him out in the first place. Patrick relents and goes with Leon's place over his own. "My place is a mess anyways."

- They had talked for what seemed like hours, through their dinner and even moving out onto the couch to mindlessly watch a movie. They didn't chat about work all that much, the both of them wanting the distraction. It's the most fun either one of them has had in a long time. Patrick is the most disappointed to have to leave at the end of the night but work called to them early the next morning.

- Patrick comes up with the plan that they make their little dinner get together a weekly thing. He's really not expecting Leon to go for it, he was just being nice to help him through his sudden development of panic attacks. Plus, Leon kept to himself most of the time. He's surprised when Leon agrees.

"Yeah, sure! I wouldn't mind. We had fun, didn't we!?"

- Both have a lot more in common than originally assumed.

- Have an extreme likeness for Mexican and Chinese take out food. Patrick's always craving sushi.

- They like to buy those hella expensive lego sets and put them together, well, together.

- Patrick is a terrible cook but with a little help from Leon, who's a pro at it, he eventually learns the basics.

- Patrick can do impressions and narration voices that always leave Leon busting at the seams. His Mickey Mouse voice is his favorite.

- Both agree that the Ice Blue Raspberry Lemonade flavor of Koolaid is the best.

- Leon never really has any time for video games but with his buddy Patrick, who has alllll the consoles, he slowly gets back into it, with a little coaching and helpful tips from Patrick of course. Just no zombie games.

- The first time Patrick brings his Nintendo Wii over, Leon's pretty excited about it. He hadn't gotten to try it yet. A controller with motion controls? How cool! Patrick warns him about the wrist straps but Leon's fairly confident in not letting one slip.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" Patrick croons, watching Leon play. It's mere minutes later when Leon gets into it way too hard and accidentally tosses the remote half way across the room, missing his TV screen by mere inches, a giggling Patrick dying of laughter into the couch cushions.

"Shit! Okay, maybe I should use the wrist straps."

- Stay up waaaay past an acceptable time on nights where they both have the following day off. They watch movies or binge and entire series. Leon always brings the popcorn or Patrick brings the alcohol and candy.

- Patrick's always sending him some silly little meme at ungodly hours of the morning and it's sometimes the first thing Leon sees after his alarm wakes him up which results in him falling face down into his pillow giggling.

- They both love Hell's Kitchen and like to bet on which team will lose and who gets eliminated.

- Patrick starts going on jogs with Leon. Leon knows all the great spots, plus it's good for the both of them to keep the cardio up. It was important in relation to their jobs.

- They crash at each other's places a lot, especially if they've had too much to drink. Patrick hates that all he has to offer is the couch which is why he ends up at Leon's place most of the time. Leon has a spare bedroom with a full bed for such occasions.

- Know their favorite coffee orders by heart.

- Patrick is obviously trained in their line of work but is still quite a newbie and looks for pointers from Leon. They train and practice together a lot.

[hockey-fics]

Does He Know ~ Matthew Tkachuk 

Summary: Your new relationship will never compare to the relationship you had with Matt and you and Matt both know it. 

Word Count: ~6k

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, references to anxiety 

A/N: There’s usage of bold and italics to reference timeframe changes, hopefully they make sense! Everything in italics are flashbacks. 

“This one is cute,” you say to Adam, showing him a picture a stranger had offered to take of you two while you were out walking through a local park. Adam with his arms wrapped around you, you looking up into his eyes. It was candid, the ones that followed were with one of his arms around your waist, both of you with plastered smiles. 

“It is,” he hums in agreement, barely peeling his eyes off his video game to look. “You going to post that on your Instagram?”

Adam had made comments here and there about how you never posted with him. When you got together you still had plenty of pictures with Matthew. You still had a few up, not bringing yourself to delete all the memories of Matthew from your social media. Matthew. You knew you were still in love with him.

You had been with him for almost four years. You were so completely and wholly in love with him. Nothing bad had happened to end things, nothing to make it easier to end that relationship. When you got together with Adam eight months after the breakup with Matt your friends and family accepted it, believing easily that you were over Matt. But you truly wondered how they could assume that when you had spent so long entirely wrapped up in your love with Matt. 

But the comments had started getting to you. From your friends. From your family. Matthew’s career was unpredictable. You never knew what was going to happen with him. They would ask about him getting traded. And you were confident that wouldn’t happen for the time being, but what if it did? How could you settle down with someone who could be moved across the country, or to a new country, just like that? For a career that was entirely unpredictable as well. He could get hurt and his career could be over just like that. It was a short career at that, and then what? 

You were still young, you always brought that up. But you had let it wear you down to the point of becoming more and more distant with Matt. Your mind was constantly full of worries. You started to wonder if they were right. Would it be safer and easier to settle down with someone who had a stable, traditional career? 

So you ended it with Matt, through shaky sobs on your couch. And then you ended up in his arms, crying for an absurd about of time over a breakup you were initiating. He tried to change your mind, tried to convince you that he would always be there for you, that whatever happened you two could figure it out…together. But you had already told your parents that you were ending things with him and you felt like you couldn’t back out of it now. 

You were trying so hard to move on from him with Adam. But it never felt the same. It had been three months and you couldn’t even begin to compare it to your relationship with Matt. From the very beginning with Matt you knew it was different, you had a spark that you didn’t have with Adam. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you mutter, opening Instagram. You post it quickly, before giving yourself too much time to think about it, to reconsider. 

The next morning you wake up to your phone vibrating on your bed beside you and you’re barely awake but you answer it immediately after seeing Matt’s name on your screen. “Matt?” You whisper groggily as you sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes. 

“You have a boyfriend?”

“No,” you reply quickly, not awake or alert enough to realize what you were saying. “I mean, yes, yeah, I guess I do.”

“You guess? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know…nothing. I just, yeah, I have a boyfriend.”

“Does he make you happy?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, silent for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I think so.”

“He doesn’t know you like I do, Y/N.”

“Matt,” you whisper, pulling your knees to your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Does he know what kind of chapstick you use and that you can’t go anywhere without it?”

‘I’m here’

You were spending the entire day with Matt. It was one of the few days he was both back in Calgary and had a full day off during the hockey season. Hurrying down the stairs of your apartment building you hop into his car, eagerly leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Hi,” he chuckles, kissing you again before leaning back into his seat and pulling away from the curb. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” you say, pulling on your seatbelt. Leaning forward you grab your purse, rifling through it for a minute before sighing loudly. “Matt,” you say in a sing-song tone, an obvious indication that you were about to ask for something. 

“What?” He asks, glancing over at you with a knowing smile. 

“Can we go back?”

“Why? What did you forget?” He laughs. 

“My chapstick.”

Reaching beside him Matt opens the console, taking his eyes off the road for only a second before picking up a small tube of chapstick, extending it towards you. Your eyes focus on the small object before reaching over and taking it, turning it over and over again in your had. It was the exact kind you used. Tinted cherry chapstick. You couldn’t imagine Matt would be willingly using a tinted chapstick. 

“That’s the right one, right?” Matt asks, glancing over at you. 

“Yes,” you comment, pulling the lid off and swiping on a layer. “Where did it come from? Did I leave it in here?”

Matt chuckles, shaking his head. “I bought it…in case you forgot yours.”

You can feel your heart swell with happiness and appreciation for Matt, never thinking chapstick could mean so much. 

“Does he know that you bite your nails when you get nervous?"

“You okay?” 

Glancing up you look at Matt, standing in the doorway of your living room. “Fine,” you reply, looking back down at your computer and twelfth ‘common job interview’ website you had scrolled through that morning. 

“You just painted them,” Matt comments gesturing to your nails as he walks over and sits down on the couch beside you. You had spent the morning getting ready for a job interview. Painting your nails, doing your hair and makeup, picking an outfit. 

Glancing down at your hands you realize you had been biting your nails again, sighing softly. “It’s a bad habit,” you mutter, eyes trained on the computer screen again. 

“I think you’re more than prepared. Maybe you should give it a break,” Matt suggests, watching you contemplate it before you slowly reach over to shut your computer. 

“You’re right,” you agree, setting your laptop down and leaning back on the couch. It’s only a couple seconds before you’re back to rehearsing answers in your head, brining your thumb towards your mouth. But Matthew catches it on the way, holding your hand gently as he brings it to rest on his thigh, fingers folded between yours.  

“Say them out loud,” Matt suggests. 

So the two of you sit there on the couch, rehearsing job interview questions while Matt holds both your hands. He made reassuring comments, letting you know how smart and put together you sounded. He didn’t have the most constructive criticism to give, having limited job interview experience. But having him listen was helpful enough. And when you left for your interview an hour later you made a promise to leave your nails alone and to take a deep breath before meeting with your interviewer. When you first met Matt you never would have assumed he would be be such a major part of helping you deal with your anxiety, but you were so incredibly grateful for that. Especially when you got the job, knowing it was Matt who helped you stay calm enough to get through the interview. 

“Does he know that you have to fall asleep every night to Parks and Recreation playing?’

Curling into your bed you reach for the remote, turning on your TV and quickly navigating through Netflix to your recently watched category, Parks and Rec front and centre. Starting it you lay down next to Matthew, the remote landing somewhere amongst the layers of blankets on your bed. But before you even have the chance to watch any of the show you’ve rolled onto your side, away from the TV. 

Matthew lays there, propped up with a few pillows with the full intention of watching the show. He stares at you with furrowed eyebrows for a second before saying anything. “I thought you wanted to watch this?”

“Hm?” You hum, glancing over your shoulder at him. “No, I told you I wanted to go to bed.”

Matthew gestures towards the TV. “Why did you put this on then?” He presses his hand into your shoulder, rolling you over onto your back so you were looking up at him. 

“I need it to fall asleep to,” you tell him, giggling at how perplexed he was by the whole situation. It was the first time Matt was spending the night that wasn’t the result of you two having sex first, just spending the night because you didn’t want to be apart, even when you were just sleeping. 

Matthew looks to the TV for a second before turning his head to look back down at you. “Like, just the TV or Parks and Recreation in particular.”

Laughing you roll over completely onto your stomach, arm draped over Matthew’s body as you rest your head on his chest. “Parks and Rec in particular.”

“That’s…weird,” Matthew chuckles, running his hand along your back. 

“Goodnight, Matt,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Also, you’re the weird one.”

“Does he know how you take your coffee? And how it changes depending on the place you go?”

“Thank you,” you say happily as Matthew hands you a mug of freshly brewed coffee. You were curled up on the couch, working on a school assignment that was due in a few hours. You were intending to finish it the night before but Matt had texted, asking if he could come over. He promised not to distract you from it but an hour after he arrived you were sprawled on your bed, a naked mess as Matt took away all of the stress for your school work.

“I still can’t believe you drink your coffee black,” he comments, nose crinkled as he drops down onto the other side of the couch, pulling his phone out. 

Laughing you bring it to your lips, taking a sip. “Not always,” you point out, eyes fixed on your laptop screen as you read through the work you had always finished. 

“Extra hot vanilla latte with non-fat milk,” Matt says, not even needing a moment to think about it. 

“Unless,” you begin, smiling as you glance up over the top of your laptop to where Matt was sitting. 

“It’s hot out, then you get a double shot on ice from Starbucks with caramel syrup instead of classic.”

You giggle quietly, staring at Matt with a soft smile, your eyes filled with admiration. Because you couldn’t get over how much you loved him. How he remembered the little things, would go out of his way to bring you things you liked to surprise you. 

“Does he know about the scar on your knee and the story of how you got it?”

You were stretched out on a patio sofa in Matt’s parent’s backyard. It was sunny and almost excruciatingly hot. You had gone back with him for a week in the summer. Of course you didn’t have an off season. You would have to go home to Calgary to continue on with your life. But for one week you were enjoying being there with him, with his family, hearing all about his childhood and thanks to his siblings, that included the embarrassing stuff. In a couple months you would be celebrating your one year anniversary and you were so content and happy with Matt. 

Matt was sitting beside you, your legs stretched over his as he runs his fingers up and down your bare legs, his phone in his spare hand while you were halfway through a novel. “What’s this one from?”

Lowering your book you look at Matt over the top of it. “Hmm?” Your eyes fall to where his thumb was running over a scar along your knee. “Oh,” you comment, realizing what he was asking as you set your book to the side. “When I was ten I was playing in the forest with my best friend and her brother. We found a creek and her brother thought it would be funny to pretend to push me over the embankment into it but I actually fell and bashed my leg on one of the rocks on the way down.”

“What an asshole,” Matt comments, thumb still absentmindedly brushing over it. 

“He was twelve and didn’t actually think I would fall,” you say, defending him. 

“Still an asshole.”

“I still talk to him…would you like to tell him that yourself?” You joke. 

“Yeah, I’ll push him down an embankment for you.”

Laughing you roll your eyes. “He’s literally the nicest guy, doesn’t deserve that.”

“He’s the nicest guy?” Matt asks, eyebrows raised. 

Giggling you reach over, grabbing Matt’s hand. “You’re a close second,” you tease. 

Matt shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing them to the back of your hand. “Guess I have to step it up.”

“Does he know your favourite dessert and how to make it just right?”

“It’s so great to finally meet you, Matthew,” your grandmother says, reaching her arms up to pull Matt into a hug. Her short, small stature made the hug almost comical, like a child compared to Matt. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too. Thank you so much for having me over for dinner,” Matt replies. 

It was Thanksgiving Day and you had invited Matt to your grandparent’s house for dinner. The majority of your family was going to be there and you could tell there was a bit of hesitation from Matt, nerves. But you assured him that they would all love him and he seemed to calm down at little. And how could they not love him? He made you happier than you had ever been with another person, they could all simply see it. Not to mention how you never stopped talking about Matt and how great he was. 

“Of course, you’re always welcome here for dinner, holiday or not,” your grandma tells him, staring up at his face for a second, shamelessly inspecting him. “He really is as cute as you said,” she states, directing the comment at you. 

“Nana,” you groan, shaking your head as you walk over and pull her into a hug. “You’re going to inflate his ego too much.”

Your grandma simply laughs, pulling back to look up at you this time. She pats your cheek gently, wide smile on her face. “Well you needed to find someone just a fraction of how beautiful you are to be able to keep up with you.”

Laughing you glance over at Matt, smiling softly. He was a lot more than a fraction of how attractive you were. But you did appreciate your grandma’s attempt at levelling out his ego again. “Do you need some help in the kitchen?” You offer, knowing that even if she were to get you to help it would be with the simplest tasks, very protective over her meals. 

“No, no. You two go join everyone else in the living room. I’m quite alright in here.”

“Are you sure?” You ask again, knowing sometimes it was just her nature to take on too much. “Did you make that apple crumble you always make?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assures you. “And of course I did, I know it’s your favourite.”

“She’s been talking about this apple crumble for a week now,” Matt chimes in, making your grandma laugh. 

“It’s really good,” you comment, double checking with your grandma once again that she didn’t need help before heading into the living room with Matt to see everyone else. 

After a couple more hours of hanging out with your family, everyone getting to know Matt more than they had before, you head into the dining room for dinner. Of course everything was incredible, a ridiculous amount of food spread out on the table. But it was your grandmother’s nature, to provide so much more than was necessary and then send everyone home with enough leftovers to feed everyone for a week. 

Once dinner was over you were in the kitchen, everyone helping clean up. Your grandma had finally moved to the living room, trusting everyone to at least clean up correctly. Matt had helped for awhile before disappearing sometime between packing up the the leftovers and doing the dishes. You hadn’t noticed, too preoccupied with cleaning and talking to your family, till your mom pointed out his absence. 

“Trying to get out of working,” you joke, drying your hands on the towel that was hanging over the oven door handle. Walking into the living room you find Matt sitting beside your grandma, discussing something that clearly made your grandma happy, a big smile on her face, eyes twinkling. “What are you two up to?”

Matt looks over, reaching for your hand as you get closer and gently pulling you onto the couch beside him. “I’m just hearing all your embarrassing childhood stories.”

“Oh, good,” you laugh, leaning into his side, head resting on his shoulder. 

“You picked a good one,” your grandma tells you and you turn your head to look up at Matt. 

“I know,” you say softly, squeezing Matt’s hand. 

Later that night you head home with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Matt was slowly becoming more and more a part of your life. You knew each other’s families. You were practically living together, inseparable when you neither of you were busy. 

What you didn’t realize until much later was that Matt had snuck away from the rest of the family after dinner to ask your grandma if he could have the recipe for the apple crumble. Because it was your favourite and he wanted to be able to surprise you with it. So your grandma happily agreed, rattling it off out of memory while Matt made frantic notes on his phone about the ingredients and the exact way to prepare and all the tips and tricks your grandma gave him. 

And when you showed up at Matt’s apartment one afternoon two months later you could smell the familiar smell immediately. You were so caught off guard by the simple act of Matt trying to do that for you that you didn’t even care that he had burnt it, just a little.

“Does he know that you have a playlist that you listen to when you’re sad?”

“Hey babe,” Matt says through the phone, voice gentle and quiet. Matt was on the road for a stretch of games. You knew it was his job, you couldn’t complain about it. But after a hard day you just wished you could be with your boyfriend. However, you hadn’t told him about your terrible day, the stress of school on top of a bad day at work. You didn’t want him to worry. And it wasn’t like you didn’t call each other all the time, but the way he was greeting you was like he somehow knew something was wrong. 

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes suddenly welling with tears. 

“How was your day? Everything okay?” 

“Not great,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes. “How did you know?”

“Your Spotify…I can see what my friends are listening to.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly, tuning into the song that was currently playing over the speaker in your apartment. Shelter from the Storm by Joshua Hyslop. Your playlist with the crying emoji. There was no denying it. 

“Guess I need to use the private session function next time.”

“What? No. Babe, I want to know what’s going on. What’s wrong?” Matt asks, his tone very clearly worried. Exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want to burden him with your bad days. 

“It was just a bad day, it’s not a big deal. Tomorrow will be better,” you assure him, curling up further into yourself on the couch. 

Matt is silent for a second, just the sound of a muffled TV playing in the background. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s nothing major, I don’t want you to have to worry about my issues.”

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N. I love you. I want to know when you’re having a bad day, I want to hear about it. Don’t push me away.”

Your eyes flood with tears again, slipping down your cheeks quicker now. Not even because you were that sad about your day. But because you were so overwhelmed with emotions. So grateful to have Matt in your life, so happy to have someone that you you could not just simply rely on but who wants you to rely on them, who wants to be there for you. 

“Does he know that the taste of tequila reminds you of you freshman year of university and that it seems to get you drunker than any other alcohol?”

The Flames had just had a massive win, Matt scoring two goals in the game and was on another level. You had gone down to see him after the game and before you even got a word out he had his arms around your waist, lifting you off your feet and spinning around with you in his arms. 

“Congratulations, bub,” you whisper into his ear, giggling as you clutch onto him. 

“You’re coming for drinks with us tonight, right?” Matt asks, finally letting you plant your feet back on the ground. 

“I guess,” you laugh, leaning up and pressing your lips to his for a quick, gentle kiss. But before you know it he has his hands on your hips, keeping you close as he deepens the kiss. “Matt,” you whisper, pulling back a little. “We’re in public.”

“Right,” he chuckles, pulling away a tiny bit. “I love you so much, I’m so happy you were able to come to the game tonight.”

His excitement makes you laugh, your hands sliding down his arms to clutch both his hands in yours. “I love you too and you know I’m going to be at every game I can…always.” 

A few hours later you’re standing a the bar in a crowded nightclub, Matt standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. Noah and Johnny were standing next to you and Matt, laughing about something that happened during the game. 

The bartender stops in front of your group, asking for orders. “Four tequila shots,” Noah says, taking the reins for everyone. 

Matthew chuckles from behind you as he hears the word tequila, knowing your stories about tequila in university. “Oh no.” you whine, tipping your head back onto Matt’s shoulder. 

Four tequila shots are set onto the counter in front of you guys and Matt reaches over to grab one for himself, Johnny and Noah taking theirs as well. Pulling away from Matt you turn to face the little circle the four of you had made. Reaching over you go to take the shot off the bar, pulling back and then reaching for it again, repeating the process a couple more times. 

“What’s she doing?” Noah asks, glancing at Matt as the three of them watch you extend your hand toward the shot before hesitating again and again. 

Matt laughs, his hand still resting on your hip. “Hyping herself up.”

“I don’t want to,” you laugh, finally picking up the shot. 

“Don’t turn down my gift to you,” Noah laughs and the four of you cheers before downing your shots. The liquid burns and sends a shiver through your body as you wince. 

“Tastes like getting blackout drunk,” you comment, setting the tiny, empty glass back onto the counter. 

And Noah doesn’t let you off the hook, buying you a few more tequila shots throughout the night. When you leave the bar that night both you and Matt are stumbling, giggling messes, climbing clumsily into the back of an Uber and ending up back at your apartment. Despite the pounding headache and vague nausea the next morning you had to admit that the night was beyond worth it. 

“Does he know about your fear of parking in parkades?”

You had circled the block four times already, looking for a place to park in the busy downtown block. It was a beautiful summer day, you really should have anticipated that it would be this busy. 

“Oh, let’s just park in there,” Matt suggests, pointing to the public parking parkade just down the road. 

You can feel your heart speed up a little, your palms sweating at the thought of pulling into the parkade. “I’m sure we’ll find something out here.”

Matthew chuckles, glancing over at you. “Why? It clearly says there’s still like one hundred parking spots in there.”

“I just don’t want to, okay?” You snap, grip tightening on the steering wheel. You were suddenly regretting offering to drive. Typically you enjoyed driving, but now you wanted to press rewind and just get in the passenger’s seat instead. 

“Woah, okay,” Matt mumbles, wide eyes focused on you, trying to figure out where your sudden outburst came from. “What’s going on?”

“I just…they just give me anxiety. They’re so cramped and dark and people come speeding around the corner and I-.”

“Pull over here,” Matt tells you, pointing towards an empty spot along the curb a few feet ahead of you. 

“What? We can’t park there, it clearly says no parking.”

“We’re not parking, just pull over for a second, okay?”

Doing as he says you pull up along the curb, shifting the car into park and glancing over at Matt. But he was already getting out, jogging around the front of your car to your door. You realize what’s going on when he pulls your door open and you climb out of the car, standing in front of him. “I love you,” you blurt out. 

It was the first time you said it. And the timing was terrible, standing on the side of the street parked in a no-parking space. But you meant it. He hadn’t questioned your irrational fear, hadn’t laughed or made you feel bad about it. He accepted it and found a solution without making a big deal about it. 

“Does he know that you want to have three kids and a golden retriever when you get older?”

You lay on the blanket beside Matt, the empty bottle of wine laying beside you along with the remnants of your picnic dinner. His arm was behind you, your head on his bicep. The sky above you is clear and dark, speckled with bright stars. You and Matt had walked to the lookout at the park down the road from your apartment, the one you had talked about wanting to go to so many times since you moved there but never got around to. You had lived in that apartment for almost three years, it was time. He brought wine and a charcuterie board which you were incredibly impressed with, even if he bought it already made from the grocery store. 

“The world is crazy,” you whisper, fiddling with Matt’s fingers, his arm draped over his stomach, hand resting on your torso. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, like…the universe is so huge and there’s so many people on earth and like…we’re so insignificant. But we still all have all these big dreams and life plans that seem so massive and important.”

“Heavy thoughts.” Matt chuckles quietly, turning his head to the side to look at you. “What are yours?”

“What?” You whisper, turning your head to look at him, nose to nose with him now. 

“Your big life plans.” 

Looking back up at the stars you take a deep breath. “I want to get my degree and start a career. Get married, buy a house in a nice neighbourhood. I want to get a dog…a golden retriever. Start a family…three…I want three kids.”

“Three?” Matt chimes in, sounding surprised. 

Rolling onto your side you look down at Matt, his hand falling to your waist. “You have two siblings,” you point out.

“And I didn’t have to raise us…thank god,” Matt chuckles. 

“I think you could handle it,” you tell him, running your fingers along his chest. “I think you’re going to be a great dad one day.”

“Maybe,” Matt whispers, tugging you a little closer. “If it’s you I’m having kids with.”

“Should we go back to my apartment and practice?”

“Practice?” Matt asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Making babies, we need to have it perfected for when we have to bring three of them into the world.”

Matt chuckles, sitting up with comedic speed. “I kinda thought we were already pretty good at that but not going to say no to more practice.”

“More than pretty good,” you tell him, letting him grab your hands and help you to your feet. And the two of you hurry back to your apartment like excited school kids, not once taking your hands off each other, giggling the entire way.

“Does he know that you have a secret Pinterest board full of wedding ideas?”

Laying on the couch in your living room you wait for Matt to get out of the shower. Matt still had his own apartment, living with a roommate. But he spent more nights at your house than he did at his own, a section of your closet and a few drawers of your dresser now his. 

You click on a picture from the screen full of them, a beautiful wedding gown filling your screen a moment later. Tapping quickly you pin it to your wedding Pinterest board. A board that nobody knew about because a part of you was deeply embarrassed about it, about how much thought you’ve put into a future wedding. 

“What’s that?” 

Quickly slamming your laptop shut you whirl around to look up at Matt, his hair still damp from the shower, smelling like the cologne you loved. “You scared me, I thought you would take longer.”

“I feel like I should be suspicious of that reaction but it didn’t really look like something I should be suspicious about…Unless you have a secret fiancé you’re planning a wedding with.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you pull your knees to your chest, your laptop coming with it. “It’s nothing.”

“Was it a wedding dress?” Matt asks, plopping down onto the couch beside you. 

Groaning dramatically you pivot to face the same direction as him, tossing one of your legs over his thigh as you scoot closer, opening your laptop again and facing it towards him. 

“Oh, wow,” Matt mumbles under his breath as he scrolls through the Pinterest board. “This is a lot more than just a wedding dress.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whine. “Stop scrolling,” you giggle, swatting his hand away from the keyboard. 

“Is it a hint?” Matt asks, chuckling as he turns to look at you. 

“What? No,” you exclaim, laughing. But it wasn’t the craziest thing he could have said. You two had been together for over two years.  You were so in love with Matt, it felt impossible for you to love him more than you already did and yet everyday you seemed to fall more in love with him. “Matt, I’ve had that dumb Pinterest board since before I even met you.”

“Well at least we won’t have to spend too much time planning in the future, you’ve already figured it all out.”

“Who said I’m going to marry you?” 

Matt scoffs, shaking his head as he sets your laptop aside. “We’re made for each other.“

Smiling you lean over, kissing him gently. “Yeah, we are,” you whisper. 

By the time Matt finishes talking tears are streaming down your cheeks, dripping off your face and onto the blankets of your bed. “I still love you,” you blurt out before you even realize what you’re saying. 

“I still love you too, Y/N. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“Are you in town?” You croak, wiping at your cheeks. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You ended things with Matt. You had a new boyfriend. Everything about this was wrong. But you were confused and sad and didn’t know what else to do. 

“Yes,” Matt replies without hesitation. 

“Can you come over?” 

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Pulling yourself out of bed you pull on some pyjama shorts, going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair, trying to look a little presentable. Before you knew it there was knock on your door. Hurrying to it you pull the door open, glassy eyes locking with Matt’s a moment later. You can only keep your composure for a second before you have your arms around him, tears rolling down your cheeks again. Matt wraps his arms around your waist, stepping inside and letting the door fall shut behind you two. His embrace feels comfortable, it feels like home. “I missed you,” you whisper, muffled by your face being buried in the soft fabric of his hoodie. 

“I missed you too, babe.” Matt replies, running his hand along your back soothingly. “What’s his name?”

And just like that reality comes crashing back to you and you slowly pull away from Matt, reluctantly taking your hands off of him. Because you knew this was all incredibly wrong. “Um…A-Adam.”

Matt nods slowly, reaching over and brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “How long have you two been…together?”

“A few months…not long, it’s not serious.” You fidget with the sleeve of the sweater you had pulled on, the fabric damp from wiping at the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since your first call with Matt that morning. “What about you, have you been, uh, like, seeing anyone?” Even saying the words out loud felt like someone punched you in the stomach. 

“No,” Matt admits quickly. “I’m still in love with you. I can’t.”

You feel a wash of guilt when Matt says that. Because you were still in love with Matt. You were just dragging Adam along, hoping that he would be the one to change your feelings towards Matt. You knew it wasn’t fair to him. None of this was fair to Adam. “I don’t know what to do, Matt.”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Matt says gently. 

“I need you to,” you croak, reaching up and wiping away some more tears. Your under-eyes were irritated from the fabric of your sweater, stinging and red. 

“I can’t,” Matt mutters, moving towards you, hands extended to pull you into him before he stops, pausing and pulling back. “I can’t,” he repeats, this time not about telling you what to do. But about touching you, being there for you like that, crossing the boundaries when he knew you were seeing someone else. 

“I wish I could take it back.”

“What?”

“Ending things with you.”

“Me too,” Matt agrees, eyes focused on you even though you could barely hold eye contact with him. 

“If I end things with Adam…,” you begin, trailing off as you stare down at the ground. “Could we…”

“Figure things out from there?” Matt asks, filling in your sentence with his own thoughts. 

Of course you hadn’t expected him to immediately suggest getting back together. There was a level of trust you had broken when you ended things that would need repairing. But you were willing to put in the work for that, take that risk. 

“I’d like that.”

Matt smiles softly, reaching forward and pulling you into a hug. It’s careful and tentative, like he’s still worried about crossing a line despite you telling him you were going to end things with Adam. “Me too,” Matt whispers, holding you close with no indication that he was going to let go anytime soon. 

[bestiesenpai]

Possession - Choso ft. Geto

Choso-nii is sweet in his own ways, we have to admit lol this is a non-curse uhmmmm I know Choso is literally like 150yrs old but just so we ALL KNOW: reader is 18+, and femme reader

Content warningssss: infantilization + dumbification, incest, slimy best friend Geto, dubcon, praise, dacryphilia, light choking, degradation, manipulation/gaslighting(i’m not sure which is the proper term for this situation so im just putting both)

Choso was lucky, being the oldest of all the siblings. He had the most life experience, the most time out of all of you to try things out and get shit right. Growing up, he tried to be there for you but he was often much too busy to dedicate the time and effort needed to properly foster a relationship.

Irregardless of that, you still looked up to him and sought him out whenever you could. Hanging out with him in little increments, somehow squeezing in alone time with just the two of you. It was no easy task with as many brothers as you had, but you managed to steal away a precious few seconds with him when you could.

Which is why when Choso moved out, you were utterly devastated. It felt like just yesterday he was helping you pick groceries for a big family hot pot and then the next he was packing boxes and moving into a trendy studio downtown to pursue an art and fashion career.

When he left with the final box you blubbered like a baby, not wanting to be comforted by him because it would only make you miss him more. It hurt him too to see you like that and to know that he could have prevented it if he just simply stayed, but he wasn’t about to hold himself back just to keep the bandaid on a little longer.

As the months ticked by, it agonized you to be left without him. Sure you had your other brothers and you loved them just as much, but it wasn’t the same without him. You texted and called Choso and made sure he kept up with the sibling group chat, but there wasn’t much you could do otherwise.

Until one fateful day, the power went out at the house over the weekend. The maintenance man had told your parents it wouldn’t be on until Monday morning and you were far too quick to snatch up the chance to be the one person that got to go to Choso’s.

“Choso-nii!” You were absolutely buzzing as you threw open the door with the spare key he had left at the house. Finally, finally, you got to see where he lived and spend more time with him. You hadn’t gotten the chance to go to his place yet despite how long it’d been since he moved out; he always said he was too busy working on a project or that he was out too late to entertain you.

Your shoulders dropped dramatically when you realized he wasn’t home. Dragging your small suitcase through the door, you let the disappointment hang on your face at being all alone. Taking your shoes off, you stepped onto the frigid hardwood and took a look around.

His place was modest, he wasn’t a starving artist but he couldn’t afford the large lofts you saw online. Immediately to your left was his small kitchen with only one full sized counter to speak of, to your left was a bathroom covered in slate gray tiles and no bathtub, and in front of you was his living room.

“He decorated pretty well.” Mumbling to yourself, you look around the room. There’s a tiny desk facing the wall shoved into the corner with his computer on top, a decently sized couch next to it and a coffee table with coffee ring stains on it. There’s an area rug your mother got him and hanging on the walls is multiple pieces of art he’d acquired. He’d shown you some when you last video called and all of them were beautiful.

Walking past the mounted TV and gaming consoles he kept was a space divided from the living room with a slatted wood wall. Right behind the wall was his bed, messily covered in blood red blankets, pillows and crumpled sheets. It was probably the biggest piece of furniture in the apartment, and the rest of the room was covered in posters and housed his clothes on open hangers.

Making yourself comfortable, you waited eagerly on the couch for him to come home. You’d already whined through text at him, berating him for not being here to greet you. With the promise of a large takeout meal when he got home, you could only sit and twiddle your thumbs.

“Choso-nii!” Leaping from the couch as the door opened, you were ready to pounce on your brother and smother him in a hug.

“Hey.” He replied gruffly and you stopped short at the looming shadow still behind him. Your smile fell when a man walked in behind him, long inky black hair tied up into a loose bun and a wide stature that made you nervous.

“Hi.” The way his low voice stretched into a higher pitch as he wiggled his long fingers at you, the sleeve of his hoodie dipping down to reveal scrawling black tattoos against his skin, had a shiver going through you.

“H-hi.” Your voice was tiny compared to his and it made him chuckle. Your eyes weren’t even on Choso anymore, glued to the man who was now smiling at you with his eyes half closed.

“How was the trip here?” Choso is suddenly right in front of you, cutting off your line of sight and pulling you into a hug you quickly reciprocate to ease your mind. Your fingers dig into the soft material of his jacket and you can smell a faint trace of nicotine on him.

“It was fine, mom drove me to the station.”

“Good, good.” All too soon he pulled away, rubbing your head affectionately before turning to the guest he’d brought. “This is my friend Geto, we do business together in the fashion district.”

“Ah, this must be the little sister you told me about!” Geto’s brows rose and he let out a pleased hum. “Hi little sister, I’m Geto Suguru.” The way he called you little sister made your face burn, it was like he was mocking you.

“Tell him your name.” Choso grunted and nudged your shoulders.

“I’m (Y/N)...” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes dropped to a spot on the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).” Sliding closer Geto pat your shoulder lightly. “You can call me Geto-nii.” Your eyes widen and snap up to look at him, clearly surprised a stranger would be so casual already. “I want us to get closer, afterall we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other. I’m one of your brother's best friends.”

“Uhm, o-okay.” Nodding quickly, you meet his dark eyes for a moment before looking at the piercings on his ears. “It’s nice to meet you too, Geto-nii.”

“Hey, what do you want for delivery?” Choso huffs from the couch. He’s surprisingly hands off with your interaction, not even looking at the way Geto sizes you up or how his fingers are close to closing in on your wrist.

“What is there?” Rushing to the couch, you practically fall right into Choso’s lap and nuzzle into his shoulder to look at his phone. Geto stands right where you left him for a moment, taking in the sight of you cuddling up to your brother so closely, before he slinks away into the bathroom.

“Wow, that came so quickly!” Twenty minutes later you’re seated on the floor, pressed against the coffee table as you marvel at how fast the delivery came. “At home it takes at least forty-five minutes!”

“That’s what you get for living in the sticks.” Choso teases, a small uptick to his mouth as he brings the food to the table.

“Shut up!” Puffing out your cheeks, you look up at the game Geto is playing. It’s some online multiplayer shooting game you hadn’t bothered to catch the title of, but the flashing lights and the way Geto got so worked up had you intrigued.

“Fuck yeah, foods here.” Taking a quick glance down, Geto abandoned the game quickly. Tossing the controller onto the couch, he walked to the fridge and dug around. “Choso, beer?”

“Yeah.” He called back, digging out the contents of the bag and spreading it out across the table.

“Did you get me a-” Right as you were about to ask, Choso placed a cold can of soda in front of you.

“Yup.”

“Aw (Y/N), you don’t drink beer?” Geto whined, plopping down across from you with a pout. Handing a tall can to Choso, he cracked open his own and frowned slightly when you shook your head no. “Have you ever tried it?”

You could feel your brother's eyes looking right at you, curious to know the answer too. The truth was, you had experimented with both liquor and weed but you never told Choso. He always warned you not to get into any of that stuff.

“No.” Your cheeks burned as you lied and Choso’s eyes narrowed; he could tell you were lying and the curt sigh that left his lips was evidence enough.

“Really, never? Take a sip then.” Sitting up a little straighter, Choso opened his can and held it out to you.

“No thanks.” Trying to push the can away, you avoided both Choso’s narrowed gaze and Geto’s smirk.

“No go ahead, I insist.” He held the can out staunchly. “Your first time should be with me anyway.” That made your face even hotter and you hung your head, a whine threatening to bubble out of your throat.

“I don’t like it.”

“Hm, how do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” Geto added, knowingly stirring the pot and hiding his wide smirk behind his beer can.

“I just do!” With a huff your head shot up and you looked at both of them.

“Try it.” Choso said firmly, his eyes now wide and unblinking at you. The whine you’d tried to hold back came out and your shoulders bounced up and down as you spoke.

“I don’t want to, I’ve already tried that kind and I don’t like it!” There, now it was out in the open for everyone to know. Your head dropped again but you could see the way Geto bit his lip hard to stop himself from giggling.

“I thought I told you not to get mixed up with that stuff.” Sighing softly, Choso took a long sip from his beer can and the silence that hung between you was heavy, at least on your end. Your shoulders sagged and you picked up your plate.

“Sorry.” Your voice was so pitiful it made Geto coo.

“What’s done is done.” Choso shrugged and began to dish himself up. “Next time you wanna do that stuff though, come to me.”

“Yeah, your big brothers will make sure you have a great time.” Lightly tapping the table, Geto grinned widely. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he turned on some music. “Now let's eat, I’m starving!”

The air between you and Choso was stilted. He wasn’t angry or disappointed with you, he’d made sure to tell you when he caught you pouting over your food. He just wished you’d come to him first, but you couldn’t help but see past it. Choso was hurt he wasn’t your first choice, and even though he didn’t vocalize it his actions showed it.

“Hey (Y/N), come and play with me.” After dinner Geto had flopped back down onto the couch, his stomach bloated with a food baby.

“Uhm, okay.” Taking a quick glance at Choso who was sitting down at his computer, you nodded. Taking a seat a good few inches away from Geto you picked up the other controller.

“Why’re you so far away, I won’t bite!” He laughed, quickly discarding the thick hoodie he’d been wearing. Your eyes were drawn to the heavy black and grey traditional Japanese tattoos going up and down both of his arms, stopped only by the t-shirt he had on.

“Your tattoos are really cool.” Unable to take your eyes away, you slid closer to him on the couch, body dipping on the cushions as you leaned close to examine them.

“You like them? I have more, lemme show you.” Off came Geto’s shirt and you gasped loudly. He had a whole bodysuit going on, large pops of color on his chest and shoulders going down his sides and disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

“Woah, these are so cool!” You couldn’t hide how impressed you were. Your hands ghosted over his skin, drinking in the intricate designs etched permanently into his body along with the rippled muscles underneath his skin.

“Does my little sister have any tattoos?” Geto asked, letting his hair out of its bun and letting the strands fall around his shoulders.

“No.” Choso answers for you, not taking his eyes away from his computer.

“Yeah, I don’t have any yet.”

“That’s a shame, I think you’d look really pretty with some ink.” Running a hand through his hair so he could flex his arm, Geto flicked his chin towards Choso. “I’ve been trying to get this guy to come to my shop to get some work done too.”

“Choso-nii, you should get a tattoo!” After seeing Geto’s you were hooked.

“Hm.” He grunted, casting you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “What should I get?”

“Get something like this!” You gestured towards Geto and Choso finally turned around away from his computer to look fully at you.

“You really think I’d look good with all that?”

“Yes!”

“Ah you heard her, Choso! I’ll book you a consultation with my artist, he’s a great guy.”

“Alright…” Choso’s eyes lingered on Geto for a little while longer before he turned back to his computer. “Sign me up then.” Letting out a victorious little sound, Geto tugged his shirt back on and picked up his controller again.

“Alright, let’s play now.”

It was safe to say that the kinds of games Geto and your brother played were much harder than the ones you played at home. There were far too many character controls to memorize and the speed at which you had to press the buttons was too fast and it hurt your fingers after a while.

“Geto-nii, I don’t like this!” You groaned, slumping against him and the couch cushions as you lost another round of the online game.

“Poor baby, is it too difficult for you?” Geto pouted at you and pat your thigh. Choso had slipped a pair of headphones on, oblivious to the way Geto was speaking to you.

“It is.”

“Here, we’ll go do a practice round and I’ll teach you how to play.” Flicking through the options, Geto found what he was looking for. “Your little brain just needs to take things slow.”

“S’not little.” Pushing his shoulder with a huff, your cheeks burned as he laughed. “Your games are just stupid.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Drawing out the y, Geto loaded up a practice game and hooked his arm around your shoulders, putting his hands over yours on the controller. “Now just try to remember how I do it.”

His arms tightened around you, pushing your chest nearly flush with his as Geto pushed and pulled your fingers insanely fast, pulling off stilted combo moves with your hands. You could barely keep up with what was happening on screen let alone the buttons he was pushing.

“You think you got it?” His mouth was now right against your ear, his voice a low and rumbling whisper. A tiny, strangled noise comes from the back of your throat and Geto can feel you tense up slightly. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you all night if I have to.”

Chuckling darkly, his lips ghost along the ridge of your ear before starting up another game. Your face is on fire and Geto knows, he can feel the heat radiating off your body much stronger than it was before. The subtle shift of your thighs and the way they squeeze together isn’t lost on him, and it only makes him draw you deeper into his lap until you’re sitting pretty on his stretched out legs, head nestled gently on his shoulder while you try in vain to keep up with him.

“Alright I sent the final sketch to Gojo and-” Choso tosses his headphones off and turns around, body stretching and extending up and out, bones cracking and popping loudly in his ears. He stops speaking, gravelly voice suddenly caught in his throat when he sees the two of you together.

It’s been so long since he’s been cuddled up to you like that that the sight of you in his best friend's lap like that makes his mind go blank. Cuddled up with another man, you’re not even playing the game anymore, having given up a long time ago just to simply watch and lightly nap while you wait for your brother to give you attention again.

“Hm? Oh, that’s great.” Geto replies, giving a quick glance to Choso and then to the clock on the wall. “Fuck it’s already 2am? I missed the last train.”

“You know it’s not a big deal for you to crash here.” Choso shrugs and begins to turn off some of the lights that are beginning to burn his eyes. He can’t stand to look at you any longer or the creeping jealousy in his chest will bubble to the surface.

“Choso-nii…” With a big sleepy inhale you arch your back off Geto, pushing your weight into your hips as you stretch and rub your eyes.

“I shoulda had you get ready for bed earlier, you must be beat.”

“Mhmm.” Nodding sleepily, you stand up with help from Geto, his hands placed low on your hips and fingers splayed out on your body. “I’ll be quick.” Shuffling to your suitcase, you take out your sleeping clothes and bathroom essentials before blindly walking to his bathroom.

You can hear a low murmur in the living room as Choso and Geto also get ready for bed. There’s a few chuckles, and you hear Choso snap at Geto for something, and they’re definitely saying your name at parts, but by the time you come out the conversation is done and over with.

“Come sleep with me, little sister!” Geto calls from the couch where he’s set up a makeshift bed and taken all his clothes off except his underwear. There’s a blanket not yet put over his body right next to him, and your eyes are staring right at the tattoos that dip under his waistband and finish on his ankles.

“C’mere.” Choso huffs, snatching your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. Your eyes follow Geto as you walk and you can feel the way he stares right at your bare thighs in your sleeping shorts.

Pushing you onto the bed, Choso climbs in after, flicking off the last light left on and engulfing everyone in a shroud of darkness and city light peeking through the curtains. Frustrated, Choso tosses and turns in the bed and throws the blanket around both of you.

“Goodnight.” You say loud enough for Geto to hear.

“Good night little sister.” He calls back.

“Yeah, night.” Choso grunts and finally slaps his head against the pillows before stilling completely. Slowly, you slide your body closer and closer to him, the touch of your fingers to his bare chest making you shiver.

“I love you, Choso-nii.” You whisper in his ear, wrapping your arms around him and curling a leg right against his sweatpants.

“Love you too.” It takes him a few seconds too long to reply but when he does it makes a delighted grin spread across your face. Hooking an arm around your back he pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and squeezing you tightly before loosening up. “Now go to sleep.”

Sleep comes easily to you, after all you’re in the arms of your brother that you love so much. You used to sleep with him when he still lived at home, crawling in at night after you’d been forced to watch a scary movie and cuddling into him. He could never say no to you even if he was exhausted and just wanted to pass out, he always made time to cuddle you.

Choso was having a much harder time going to sleep. He remembers what it was like sleeping in the same bed at home and he doesn’t remember it being this much of a problem. Sure, he woke up with a half hard cock some mornings that he was able to force away before you woke up, but somehow this felt different.

You were at his house not at the family home. There were no other brothers to barge in and demand breakfast, no parents to poke and prod at him to get up and go to work - this was his space, somewhere he had complete control over and could do whatever he wanted and that included fantasizing about rubbing your ass while you slept and touching himself.

Eventually forcing himself to sleep, Choso was thankful when he woke up to the sound of his alarm and no hard cock. Blindly turning it off, he stretched as much as he could with your body laying on half of him. Slowly inching out of your hold he was greeted with the slimy, sticky feeling of cum soaking the insides of his thighs and smeared along his sweats creating a big wet patch on the front.

“Someone had a nice dream.” Geto said quietly into the early morning darkness. He could just barely make out Choso’s cum stained pants as he walked past the couch and into the bathroom.

“Shut the fuck up.” Choso bit back, ears burning red. Geto fell back onto the couch with a soft laugh under his breath.

When you woke up it was well after Choso had left. The digital clock he used flashed bright red numbers at your bleary eyes, telling you it was now ten in the morning. The bed was cold on the side Choso slept on but you rolled over anyway and breathed in the scent of his pillow.

“Oh my god.” When you got up and out of the bed you weren’t expecting to see Geto still in the apartment on the couch in his underwear wrapped up loosely in a blanket.

“Good morning, sleepy girl.” He hummed over a cup of black coffee, his long hair still tussled from sleep.

“Where’s Choso-nii?” You fidgeted with your fingers, looking anxiously around the room for a hint that he was still here.

“He had to go in early for a project, it’s just you and me.”

“O-oh.” A sickening grin spread across Getos face the longer you fidgeted. “Uhm, I’m gonna use the bathroom!” Rushing past him, you tugged your sleeping shirt down, attempting to hide the goosebumps rising on your thighs.

“I’ll make breakfast!” He called out, helping himself to Choso’s kitchen. You took as long as you could in the bathroom, waiting until he was done cooking to come out. “Hope you like eggs, little girl, because that’s all I know how to make.”

Taking the plate from him, you let Geto place his hand on your lower back and guide you to the couch. The TV was turned on low to some random morning news talking about the weather, and Geto’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time you ate.

“Thank you for the food.” You said quickly, standing just as fast and going to the kitchen sink. Cleaning up the few dishes left out, you gasped and nearly jumped out of your skin feeling Geto press against your back.

His hands come to rest against the countertop, trapping you between it and him. His broad chest pushed against your back making you bend to accommodate the added weight, pushing your ass into his growing cock.

“G-geto-nii?” Another gasp came from you as his lips pressed against your ear, skimming around it and the sound of his breathing ringing in your head. Planting a soft kiss behind your ear, one of his hands came up to grab your jaw.

“You really are such a cute little sister, you know that?” Bringing your head back and up, Geto kisses your cheek a few times. His fingers splay downwards, grabbing onto a bit of your throat as he kissed the corner of your lips.

Squeezing your eyes shut, a little whimper comes from the back of your throat when he kisses your lips and forces your mouth open with his fingers. Getos tongue slides in effortlessly, like you’d invited him in and told himself to make your mouth his new home. Gliding his tongue over your teeth, his coffee flavored saliva started to drip down the corner of your mouth.

Beating a fist against the counter as you start to get too lightheaded, you’re gasping for air when he lets you fall back, crumpling to the countertop with ragged breathing. Smoothing a hand down your back, Geto goes down past the hem of your sleeping shorts and pushes his hand up under them.

“Geto-nii!” Curling your fingers into the granite, a loud squeal erupts from your chest and you force your body upright.

“Such a perfect fucking ass.” Geto groans, groping your flesh hard. “And no panties? Who knew you were so naughty while you slept.”

“M’not- not naughty!” You pout, turning over your shoulder and shaking your head at him.

“Such a naughty little sister I have.” Taking his hand out of your shorts, Geto lets you turn around and face him. Briefly biting his lip, Geto grabs you by the jaw again and kisses you, this time fully slotting his mouth against yours.

Immediately your hands fly back to catch yourself, the force of his kiss enough to almost make you fall over completely. The hand not holding your jaw snakes under your shirt and goes straight to your breast, giving it a rough squeeze that has your hands going to grip his upper arms.

“Sensitive, are we?” He pulls back slightly, licking his lips and yours and squeezing your breast again.

“It hurts.” Tilting your head back with a whine, your nails dig into his arms.

“Sshh sshh, you can take it, can’t you? Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

“No.” A heavy pout is back on your lips, but you’re not sure it ever truly left. Geto’s brow quirks at your answer and he smirks.

“No? Why not? Is it because I’m not Choso?” He pauses and the silence that fills the air is all the answer he needs. “Didn’t I tell you last night I was your big brother now too? Hm?” As he speaks with slightly forced words his hand drops to the base of your throat and gets a tad tighter than you’re comfortable with.

“Y-yes but-”

“But nothing.” Geto cuts you off with a sharp press of his fingers against your pulse. Releasing your hold on his arms your hands fly up close to your throat, nerves on edge for what could happen next.

“Be a good little girl and let your big brother take care of you (Y/N).”

“But Choso-”

“Do you think Choso wants an inexperienced little baby who can’t handle having her tits groped a little?” Cocking his head to the side, Geto gives you a look. “Well, what do you think?” You’re at a loss for words and he can tell, a slight uptick to the side of his mouth when you lick your lips nervously.

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Exactly, you don’t know. You don’t know any better, so just let Geto-nii take care of you. I’ll get you nice and ready for Choso, baby, don’t you worry.” Closing in on you once again, he kisses you softer this time, lets you ease into the feeling of his lips on yours.

He goes back to touching your breast just as hard as he was before, tugging on your nipple and making you cry out. You tried to tug his fingers off your nipple but it only made it hurt more. Bundling up Geto’s shirt in your hands, you stood against the counter and whimpered as he moved to the other breast.

“Aw, the poor baby’s crying.” He feels your tears on his face before he can see them and when he pulls back he laughs a little. A soft hiccup catches your throat and you unhinge your fingers from his shirt to wipe at the tears that are falling.

“Cause it hurts.” You mumble, a fresh wave of tears springing forth at the same time a warbled cry does as Geto palms both of your breasts roughly. Standing on your tip-toes you try to shimmy away from the overwhelming sensation.

“Who knew you were so sexy when you cry?” Geto isn’t really looking at you, he’s looking at the tears going down your cheeks. It’s making his cock harder by the minute and he leans forward and darts his tongue out, catching the salty stream and running his tongue up your cheek.

“Ew!” Jerking back with a cry, your hands pushing at his bare chest are useless to stop him. Kissing you right at the corner of your eye, Geto finally relents and stands up straight. Furiously wiping your face off, your lip curls in disgust at the feeling of his drying saliva on your cheek.

Planting a hand behind you, Geto shoves his other hand down your shorts. Cupping your sex in his palm, his fingers tentatively prod at your entrance and spread your lower lips with his fingers. His breathing is heavy and right in your ear, heavily entranced with touching your cunt.

Your legs spread of your own accord to let him find your clit easier. You’re still sniffling, a few tears are still welling in your eyes, but a heady feeling is taking over you. The smell of nicotine and a woody body wash roll off Geto in waves, filling the tight space between you and making you flush.

“What a perfect little cunt you have.” Geto groans, his fingers finally catching your clit and lightly pinching it.

“Geto-nii, please.” Your thighs clamp together around his hand when he does it again, the pleasure shooting up your spine almost painful.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Leaning his forehead against you, Geto shoves your legs open again and puts two fingers on your clit. He goes slow at first, savoring the feeling of touching your cunt. There’s a gentle buck to your hips every time he rolls his fingers just right and your fingers are back to gripping his shirt tightly.

Working up the wetness between your thighs, Geto goes down further and nudges your entrance, collecting the slick and bringing it back to your clit. He does this a few times until there’s a distinct wet sound in the air.

“Have you ever had fingers as big as mine in you?” He asks softly as he works his fingers into your cunt, the squeeze of your walls making his head spin.

“No.” That’s the truth and it makes you burn with shame. The only fingers that had been inside you as of late were your own, and even when it was someone else it wasn’t nearly like the stretch you were getting now.

“Right to the fucking knuckle.” Geto grunts, staring right down your shorts at his fingers buried inside you. “You’re so tight I’m surprised you took it all. What a good girl.” He presses a kiss to your temple and pulls his fingers out, stretching the fabric of your shorts as far as it’ll go.

Slamming them back in, Geto wastes no time in fucking you on his fingers. He’d been nice enough to go slow while he played with your clit, but he was tired of it now. He needed to feel your cunt clamp down on his fingers and see you lose yourself from just them alone.

Your mouth hung open dumbly, a gasp caught in your throat at the sudden change of pace. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you couldn’t get any words out as he pounded your cunt. The knuckles of his fingers rubbed against your clit with every stroke, making your legs twitch and threaten to collapse beneath you.

Your orgasm comes before you even know what’s happening, head falling forward and a loud moan finally spilling from your mouth. Grinding your hips down onto his fingers, a jolt goes through you when Getos thumb comes to rub your clit.

“What a good fucking little sister!” He all but cheers for you, grinding his hand on you and pushing in as far as he can to feel every inch of your spongy walls pulse around him. His chest swells with a bit of pride at getting you to cum and he withdraws from your shorts when you relax. Bringing his fingers up to your face, he spread your slick around his fingers. “Look at how messy you are.”

A muffled groan comes from him as he sticks his fingers into his mouth, savoring the flavor of your cunt and rutting against you slightly. It’s a taste he knows he’s now addicted to and his chest gets even bigger at being the first to taste you - something he’s going to hold over Choso’s head for ages.

Just as he’s cleaned his fingers and is about to shove his impossibly tight boxers off, Geto gets a phone call.

“Fuck, right now?” Gritting his teeth he leaves you to slump against the counter as he bounds over to the couch and grabs his phone. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck you!” He rants at his phone before straightening up and clearing his throat. “Hey, what’s up?”

The switch in his tone catches you off guard and your knees knock together when he looks over at you with scarily wide eyes. His nostrils flared as he listened to whoever spoke, he was clearly worked up and being interrupted wasn’t something he was taking lightly.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Hanging up his phone right after, Geto let it fall from his hands and clatter onto the floor. He didn’t speak any further, only letting out an angry and frustrated groan as he began to collect his clothes.

“What’s going on?” You whispered hesitantly, watching him quickly gather his hair into a bun.

“Fucking work. Fucking- ugh, stupid fucking creative director just had to call a god damn meeting. Doesn’t the bitch know I’m fucking busy?” Getting the last of his things, Geto nearly storms right past you but catches himself at the last moment. “Hey.”

“Hm?” You look at him just in time for him to plant a heavy hand on the back of your neck and kiss you one last time, hard enough to leave your head spinning.

“I got your number from Choso’s phone, make sure to text me back, little sister.” The words rush out of him as he pulls away and you barely understand them but nod all the same. Slipping his shoes on, Geto opens the door and turns to you one last time. “See you later, little sis.”

“B-bye Geto-nii.” You wave goodbye, cheeks flushing at the bright smile he sends you before slamming the door closed and running down the corridor.

It takes far too long for you to push yourself away from the counter after his footsteps have disappeared entirely. The realization of what just transpired hit you, a dull ache throbbing between your legs as you walked to the couch. Your chest tightened up at the memory of how Geto treated you and the feeling of his hands lingered on you.

Checking your phone, there’s a few messages waiting for you. One from your mother asking how your day was going, a few from your brothers and one from Geto.

(Geto): I miss your pretty pussy already little sis

Attached to the message is a picture that makes waves of embarrassed heat go over your body. It’s taken in a bathroom stall at the closest station, the harsh fluorescent lighting casting weird shadows on Getos body. But that’s not what your focus is on, not at all.

What you’re looking at is his hard cock, flushed a deep angry red at the tip and sticky with precum. Geto hiked his shirt up and shoved his pants down on his thighs, the selfie just catching the way his shirt is tucked into his teeth.

He sends you another message, a video this time with a dark thumbnail. You click on it with no hesitation, heart thumping loudly in your chest and ears ringing as the video comes to life.

“Fuck, look what you did to me baby girl.” Geto’s gruff voice is low and hushed, the sounds of other men coming in and out of the bathroom drowning out his soft groans. The camera is held from a down angle right by his head, directed straight at his hand working his cock over in his fist.

There’s a faint wet clicking sound and you can see the way Getos cock glistens in the light. With his mouth right by the receiver you can hear every little grunt and whimper that leaves his mouth and it makes your thighs clench together tightly, cunt aching to be filled by his fingers again.

The hard muscles of his stomach were shuddering with every downstroke, a slight rock to his hips beginning to take form the longer he went. Geto was very wound up, the playtime with his new little sister cut far too short.

“Wish it was you touching me, I’d cum so fast.” His words come out a hushed whisper and the camera shakes as he begins to really fuck his fist. “Just want your cute little mouth wrapped around me-” Geto’s voice was getting higher strung the more he spoke. “Your cunt felt so good around my fingers- want it- need it on my cock-”

Geto nearly dropped his phone as he came, angling his cock up so it shot onto his stomach, painting his tattooed skin in a sticky film of white. A long moan left him and you could practically see him squeezing his eyes shut tightly, fucking his fist through his orgasm until his cock started to get soft.

The video ends without anything else, screen turning black the second he lets go. You don’t realize how tightly your body has wound up from the video, thighs clenched tightly together and a breath caught in your chest.

(Geto): you like it? I bet you’re touching yourself right now, huh?

(Geto): I’m getting on the train now, hopefully Choso will let me come over again tonight after I tell him how good you taste

(Y/N): no don’t tell him!

You frantically send that message a few times but Geto doesn’t respond, just leaves you on read as soon as the message is sent. Despite the heat between your legs your heart starts to pound for a different reason, hands shaking with fear that Geto really will tell Choso what he did to you.

An hour has passed of you sitting on the couch stewing in worry and the sound of the door opening is what brings you out of your stupor and you almost fling your phone across the room in shame. Choso appears in the doorway with a somber expression on his face, giving you a long look as he toes his shoes off.

“Still in your pajamas I see.” He comments, voice low and even. You nod, still unable to speak with the image of Geto milking his cock still fresh in your mind. Walking further into his apartment Choso stifles a sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“Why’re you here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” You avoid meeting his steeled gaze, instead focusing on your phone and trying to hide your guilty expression.

“Came home early, thought we could have some lunch together in a cafe before I head back.” Choso’s words are casual but his body language is anything but. With a tight jaw and arms crossed over his chest, you can tell he’s upset.

“What’s wrong?” Your blood begins to run cold as you ask and Choso scoffs, brow quirking in annoyance.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He’s staring directly at you with an unmistakable fire in his eyes. No air fills your lungs as you’re locked into staring back at him, but dread drips slowly down your back. Geto must have told him, that’s why he’s making that face.

“I-I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shaking your head, you move to stand. “I’ll go get changed.” Choso watches you almost run to the bedroom and once you’re there he makes his move.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, huh?” He leans his body against the wall, blocking you from leaving.

“I don’t!” Your voice is getting more defensive by the minute. “I have no idea, Choso-nii.”

“Did he tell you to lie? It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend anymore little sister.” Walking chest to chest with you, Choso stares down his nose at you.

“I’m not lying!” You can feel yourself breaking down, the tension in the air enough to make a painful burning prick behind your eyes and tears threaten to mist your lashes.

“I thought you loved me? Yet you won’t tell me the truth.” Narrowing his eyes, Choso’s hands curl into fists. “Or do you love Geto-nii more now?”

“I don’t love him!”

“No, you must love him otherwise why would you let him touch you like that? Just tell me the fucking truth (Y/N), you care more about Geto now that he made you cum.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut up yes you do. I can’t believe you turned into a stupid little slut who lets anyone touch her.”

“Choso-nii!” Now tears are welling in your eyes the longer you look at him.

“Don’t call me that anymore, I don’t want a little sister like you anymore.” Those words stabbed you right in the heart and Choso could tell by the way a choked gasp came from you. “When I moved out you told me you’d wait for me but I guess that was a lie.”

“I’m sorry!” Tears are falling down your face with no remorse, snot starting to drip out of your nose as well. Gripping Choso’s hoodie in your hands, you refuse to let go as he gives you a hard push. “B-big brother, please!”

“Geto’s your big brother now, not me.”

“No, no he’s not! You are! You are and I love you and I’m sorry!” Bouncing your toes, you wrench your arms around his neck and force him against you. “I didn’t mean to- to do all that.” Choso manages to fling one of your arms off of him and you let out a screech. “No, please!”

“What a good act you’re putting up right now.”

“Big brother!” Burying your face into his hoodie, your nails are nearly clawing through the fabric to feel his skin underneath. “I-I’ll do anything, please don’t do this!”

“You’ll do anything? Is that what you told Geto?”

“No!” Pulling back with horribly blurry vision, you blink fat tears down your cheeks. As your gaze slowly focuses on Choso you’re met with his hollow blank expression. Your chest is heaving as you try to calm down, try to find some other words to say to convince him not to abandon you.

Face unbearably hot and mind clouded with emotion, you lurch forward and push your lips onto his. The kiss is awkward, the angle at which you came at him making your noses bump together uncomfortably.

“Please, please, please.” You beg against his lips, your tears staining his face from how close you are. “Don’t be mad, please.” Kissing him all over his face, you don’t feel his expression change.

“Tell me where he touched you.” Choso says, effectively pushing you away from him in one go.

“What?”

“Tell me where he touched you.” He repeats, pushing you to the bed. Your knees buckle as soon as they meet the mattress and you fall down across the messy sheets. Stripping off his hoodie and pants, you can see the outline of his cock when his shirt moves.

“He…” You begin, but stop as Choso sinks both knees into the mattress and straddles you.

“Go on.” He grabs your chin and forces your head to tilt up.

“First he kissed me.” One of your hands comes up, gesturing to all the places on your face where he kissed you.

“With his tongue, too?” Choso’s eyes dart around your face and he grimaces when you nod. “Bastard.” Gripping your chin harder, Choso leans down and kisses your wet cheek, the tip of his tongue lightly grazing your skin to drink in your tears.

“Choso-nii!” Squirming as the slimy appendage follows along with his lips, you yelp when he gets to your ear and licks there too.

“Geto was right about one thing - you’re fucking hot when you cry.” Blowing cool air over your ear, he goes back to your lips. They’re much drier than Geto’s but you like it, let his tongue in immediately when he pushes it in.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer. Your mouths slot together, drool beginning to drip down your face as Choso pushes more of himself on you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he ruts into your shorts, his cock coming to life.

“Where else?” His voice is raspy when he pulls away and he doesn’t go far.

“Here.” You shake your shoulders side to side, making your breasts move under your shirt. Choso hikes your shirt up over your breasts, your nipples already hard and waiting for him.

“Look at you, my pretty little sister.” With an unwavering gaze, Choso smooths his palms over your breasts. “Geto really touched you here with his dirty hands?”

“Y-yeah, he was too rough. It hurt a lot.” Choso nodded as you spoke, running soft fingers over your nipples and taking them gently between his fingers.

“Geto is a big meanie, hurting my baby like that.” He chided and leaned down to plant a kiss between your breasts. “I told him to be gentle too.” Choso begins to pepper kisses all over your chest. “He promised he’d wait until we got back home from work but the bastard just couldn’t help himself, huh?”

“What?”

“Geto and I wanted to give you a gift tonight but it seems he was unable to wait.” Cupping your breasts, Choso flicked one of your nipples with his tongue making you jump. “I told him he had to wait for me to be there, I know how rough he can get with girls. And it seems I wasn’t mistaken.”

Kissing you before you have the chance to really think about the words he said, Choso gropes your breasts softly. It’s a stark contrast to how rough Geto had been, when Choso rolls your nipples between his fingers you don’t try to get away.

Littering kisses down your neck, Choso sucks on your nipples gently, grazing them with his teeth and running his hands up and down your sides. With every pleasurable wave that goes through you, you buck your hips up into his, the feeling of his hard cock brushing against you making you more excited.

“He touched you here too, I know that.” Choso says with his mouth pressed against your chest, his hand pushing between your bodies to cup your sex through your shorts. “Was he rough here, too?”

“A little.”

“Geto-nii really is just a big jerk, isn’t he?” He asks you with a soft smile, running his other hand over your face and cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, a big meanie.” You pout up at him, nuzzling your cheek into his hand.

“I’ll make you feel all better, don’t worry baby.” Unraveling his body from yours, he nudges you up the bed. “Take your clothes off and put your head on the pillow, get comfortable for me.”

You immediately do as he says, stripping yourself bare in record time. Choso steps back to take his clothes off as well and his cock slaps against his stomach when he takes off his underwear.

Crawling back onto the bed, Choso falls face first between your legs, catching himself on his elbows. He’s directly facing your cunt, his nose is so close he wouldn’t need to lean far at all to put it on you.

“Choso-nii.” Your head falls back with a sigh against the pillows as he runs his hands over your inner thighs, spreading your lips and exposing your leaking cunt for him.

“What a pretty fucking pussy you have, Geto was right about that too.” Blowing air onto you, he chuckles softly when your hole clenches around nothing. Leaning forward, Choso places a gentle kiss on your clit and your thighs nearly clamp around him.

“Choso!” A hand flies down to grip his hair as his lips wrap around your clit, his thumb pulling back the hood. The action is enough to make your thighs wrap around his head, your hips bucking high off the bed the longer he runs his tongue over you.

Choso doesn’t mind the squeeze, he welcomes it in fact and wraps an arm around your leg, pulling you closer to his face. A series of heady pants leave your mouth, eyes rolling back when he gives a brief, sharp suck.

Letting go of your clit, Choso pushes his face deeper into your cunt and worms his tongue inside you. Lapping at your walls Choso groans as you tighten around his tongue, your essence flowing into his mouth that he swallows eagerly. There’s drool beginning to pool on his lower lip, dripping down the crack of your ass and staining his bed.

Getting drunk off the taste of your cunt, Choso ruts against the bed as he fucks you with his tongue. More groans come from deep within his chest and when your hips buck up into him he rides the motion, encouraging you to do it more.

Going back to your clit, Choso wiggles two fingers between your legs and pushes them deep inside you. His fingers aren’t as long as Geto’s but they’re thicker, stretching you in a way the other man simply could not. The rough calluses on your brothers fingers served him well, the extra friction on that special spot inside you making you keen.

“Go ahead and cum, (Y/N), use me for your pleasure.” Choso’s breathless as he speaks, forcing his head up from the vice grip you’re holding him in.

“Choso-nii, please-” Your entire back is arched high off the bed, your hips canting up to fuck yourself on his fingers. Choso bites his lip and watches your face contort for a moment before diving back down and honing in on your clit.

His fingers inside you go slower than Getos, milking the feeling of your walls around him for as long as possible. The pace is almost unbearable and not enough, but his mouth on your clit makes up for it.

As you cum the hand grabbing Choso’s hair tightens, pushing his face deeper into you as you ride out the waves. A loud, unabashed moan comes from you, whatever neighbors are home next door have definitely heard it. Choso fucks you through your orgasm, mouth going down to catch your release.

When your body finally relaxes is when Choso comes up from between your legs. His face is smeared with his spit and your slick and he wipes it off on the back of his hand, catching his breath as he moves over you and hooks your legs back around his waist.

“Are you ready, baby?” The tip of his cock is dragging up and down your slit, making the growing fuzziness in your head even stronger. You nod, eager to have him inside you. “Use your words.”

“I’m- I’m ready.” You speak with a heavy tongue, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders in an attempt to get him closer. Satisfied, Choso pushes in with little resistance, his cock gliding in easily with the amount of slick you have.

“Fuck-” He chokes as he bottoms out, a delicious shiver running through him. Chosos cock is thick like his fingers are, stretching you out and making you squirm. Panting and heaving, he draws out halfway and pushes back in with the wet squelching of your cunt around him.

“Big brother!” Your nails dig into his back, hips rising to meet his slow thrusting. His back bows deeply, trying to keep as much control as he can over himself. All Choso wants to do is sit back and pound into you, make you cream all over him and maybe even squirt.

But he takes his time, working his cock into you at a nice and even pace. He has a point to prove, that he’s better than Geto and that he’ll treat you better. He knows he will, knows he can, but he needs you to know it too.

Digging your feet into his lower back, you huff. Being fucked by Choso is better than you could ever imagine, the veins on his cock dragging across your walls wonderfully, but you need more. This slow pace can only keep you satisfied for so long.

“Getting impatient?” Choso chuckles, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. Curling his fists into the pillow beneath you, Choso snaps his hips into yours. “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.”

Choso slowly increased the speed of his hips, the slapping of wet skin against skin getting louder and louder. The control he had was slipping away with every thrust, his lip caught tightly between his teeth as he watched your eyes roll back.

“Choso-nii, ah- ah-” The moans coming out of your mouth were so pretty Choso held his breath to be able to hear them better. He tried to keep his head upright to stare at you, but the drag of his heavy cock inside you was making it impossible.

Dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck, Choso kissed and sucked on your flesh as he fucked you. Your body rocked with every thrust, a moan spilling out every time he bottomed out and nails dragging down his back.

“Take my cock so fucking well-” Choso panted, grabbing under your ass to angle your hips higher. “My lil sis so good to me-” His head was clouding up from pleasure and his words dissolved into babbles.

Chosos teeth scraped against your neck as he spoke, adding to all the sensations washing over you. You moaned right along with what he was saying even though half of his words didn’t make it to your ear, muffled by his mouth pressed against your neck.

A squeal ripped through you as Choso clumsily rubbed your clit, making you tighten around him even harder. He growled deep from his chest, it was becoming almost impossible to drag his cock out of you.

“Choso-nii! I’m- ah-” Tears pricked your lashes you squeezed your eyes so hard together. The pleasure was coming to a head, making your ears ring and mouth fall open in a perfect O. Strained moans broke through, echoed by sharp gasps of air you forced into your lungs.

At the sound of you coming undone, Choso came as well. His hips went even faster, chasing the high for as long as he could. Your cunt gushed around him, mixing with the seed he was pumping into you and creating an even bigger mess on his sheets.

Choso slammed his lips onto yours, desperate to take as much as you could give him. His fingers didn’t stop moving on your clit until you feebly pushed his hand away, and that’s when he knew he could slow down.

“I love you.” Choso says immediately after he stops moving, his body buzzing with happy hormones and a drunken smile is on his face.

“I love you too!” You reply quickly, still trying to catch your breath. Choso stays buried inside you until his cock goes soft and then he pulls out slowly, watching his cum string along his cock and keeping the two of you connected.

“You did so well for me.” He mused, falling to your side and closing his eyes. He’s already pulling you into a side hug before he can even think, throwing the blankets over the two of you to keep the chill from evaporating sweat away.

You lay quietly together, catching your breath and sharing soft kisses together. Your heart is absolutely full of love for Choso, and a smile threatens to never leave your face. It strains your cheeks and makes them ache but you don’t try to push it away.

“How about we get some lunch now?” Choso asks after twenty minutes.

“Okay.” Nodding softly, you make no move to get up from his hold, instead curling into him even more and staying there for another few minutes.

“Alright, let’s really get up now.” Rocking back and forth, Choso rolls on top of you for a moment before rolling completely off the bed. “I’m fucking starving.”

You get dressed after Choso cleans his cum from between your thighs, giving you soft kisses on your stomach and hips as he does so. He keeps an arm around you the entire time, never letting you stray too far from him as you walk to the front door.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?” He stops right as you open the front door.

“Yes?”

“Give me your phone, I’m blocking Geto’s number and deleting those fucking nudes.”