#might be worded weird but wanted to do this

[prael]

Day 4: A Two-step Problem

Nmixx Sullyoon & Kiss of Life Belle x male reader smut

words: 9,667 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"She's coming here? This weekend? To this house?" The concoction of shock and confusion, topped with a little bit of annoyance, is in both Sullyoon's tone and expression. "This house!? This same exact house that I am sitting in!?"

Her outburst quickly settles into a sulk as she slouches in her dining chair. Her father turns to your mother for help that she doesn't offer. He's on his own with this one.

"Look," he starts gently. "She's my daughter too and I want to get to know her. I haven't seen her in years."

"You barely talk about her." Sullyoon counters, arms folded defensively across her chest. Her tone is laced with accusation. "I don't know anything about her."

Your mother shoots Sullyoon a glare, one that causes Sullyoon to step well over the line.

"Why are you okay with this? Another daughter that's not even yours coming into our home?"

You stare at your food, praying for the ordeal to be over.

"Stop being silly," your mother reprimands. "You are my daughter, and I'll treat Belle as my own too."

Sullyoon gives you a side-eye, and while she doesn't say anything else, you can see how desperate she is for you to take issue with it too. While you may not be as opposed as Sullyoon, you do have a reservation. "Where will she sleep?" You finally speak up, looking at your mother.

"Sullyoon, can she stay in your room?" she asks.

"No!" Sullyoon snaps. It's clear that she's still processing her frustration.

"It's fine." You turn to your mother. "She can take my room, I'll take the couch."

Sullyoon goes quiet for a moment, her mouth falling open in shock. She looks almost offended that you're not fighting by her side. Then she asks, "What's wrong with you?" and rolls her eyes when your answer comes in the form of an innocent shrug.

"Thank you," your stepfather says, shooting you an appreciative smile. Sullyoon's chair scrapes the floor as she stands up abruptly.

"I'm done." After a curt announcement of departure, she's already headed to her room.

Her father sighs. "Let her go," your mother advises. "She'll come around."

-

A few hours have passed since the revelation and you're in your room. Soft pillows beneath your lower back and slouched against the wall. The soft tones of music from the speaker across the room fill the air.

"Can you believe that shit?" Sullyoon curses the whole idea. "Belle, my long-lost sister, is coming to live here. What are we, some kind of 90s sitcom?"

"Can we not do this right now?" You respond, struggling to focus on both her and her words at one time.

"I thought you were on my side." She pauses for a moment and lets out a soft sigh. "You didn't even argue it."

"It's not that deep, Sullyoon," you grunt out the words, as her hot breath hits your face.

"Yeah well..." She falters. "...It is to me." You feel her fingers thread through your hair before finding a handful of the short strands at the base of your skull. You hiss, feeling her pull on them lightly, but you don't fight back. "Do you think she'll be annoying? And say loads of weird American things?"

"I don't care," you dismiss, putting your hand on her thigh and holding the flesh tight.

"Oh." She clears her throat and adjusts her position. "Well, I do care."

"You might get along." Your tone lacks commitment. It's almost impossible to focus with the smell of her perfume filling your nostrils. You bury your face into the crook of her neck. "You smell so good."

"I bet she thinks she's better than us."

"Sullyoon!" you snap. "For fuck sake!" You put your hand on her waist and lift her off your lap, letting her naked form fall lazily onto the bed beside you. "Conversation or sex, choose one."

"Hey!" She exclaims, annoyed about being pulled free from your cock.

Your irritation quickly fades away as you turn your head to look at her. Her dark hair spills out beneath her, messy, wavy and soft. Her smile is mischievous while her dark eyes sparkle with humour and intrigue. A million thoughts cross your mind but none of them can beat out the singular reminder that she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. Her features are uniquely hers and yet, they seem perfectly matched to your taste.

"Okay, I'll stop talking about her then."

There is a shift in the energy of the room. She turns away from you, positioning herself on her knees and resting her cheek against the pillow below. There she lies in wait, ass on display for only you. You bite down on your bottom lip as you clamber behind her.

You reach out and wrap your hands around her hips, squeezing her flesh in between your fingertips. "Sullyoon." The syllables roll off your tongue. "Sometimes, things are hard." You press your cock, still coated in her slick juices, against her waiting cunt. "But you have to just take it."

You push into her pussy from behind. You watch the way the hole expands and stretches around you. The soft, pink walls give in to your intrusion. You hear the little gasp and moan that Sullyoon releases upon feeling you enter her again. You keep going until her round little ass is flush against your hips and the full length of your cock is buried inside her pussy.

From this angle, Sullyoon can do little more than submit. And so she does, allowing you to hold her by the hips, dragging her body back and forth until it moves in line with your rhythm.

"See?" you tease. "Feels better this way, doesn't it?"

"Fuck..." Sullyoon whines. "I hate when you do that."

"What?" You chuckle and spank her across the ass before grabbing a handful of her flesh once again. "When I talk down to you like that or when I make you feel like a little slut?"

"Yes." She squeezes her eyes shut. You listen to every pant and every moan. You feel her thighs shake and tremble against your skin. You know she loves this; there's no other reason why else she would allow you to take over her body and treat her this way. The two of you may bicker and argue and fight, but none of that matters when you're alone together in your bedroom, exploring one another. For all your arguments, you know there isn't another person in the world that feels as perfect wrapped in your arms.

As taboo as it may be.

She looks at you over her shoulder through misty brown eyes with pouted lips, looking all too delicious to touch. "Please," she begs in a small voice that sends a chill up your spine. "Harder. Faster."

"Good girl." The words flow seamlessly from your lips. You hold tighter onto her ass, for fear of the pleasure making her collapse against the bed. You start pounding into her from behind. Each slap of your hips connecting against her ass rings out against the silence of the room.

Sullyoon's hand grips the pillow beneath her head, squeezing it tight as her outlet for her building pleasure. It becomes too much, and she lets out a long moan. You're quick to lean in, take hold of her head and bury her face against the pillow.

"Quiet," you scold. You slide your fingers into her mouth and let them rest against her tongue. She welcomes you in, letting her lips seal around your digits. Her tongue runs laps across the tips of your fingers and the sensation causes an involuntary twitch of your hips.

"There we go," you coo. You can tell by the way she squeezes down on your length that she likes it when you praise her. She might try to play tough and cold, but you've learnt exactly what buttons to push to get her melting at your touch.

You can feel yourself edging closer, and so you reach down further. Sullyoon's clit is sensitive when you press your finger against it, judging by the way she bites down on your fingers. It takes only a few gentle rubs to bring her to the same point as you.

She whimpers softly against your fingers. You can almost feel the muffled cries vibrating against your skin as the knot of pleasure in her tummy begins to unravel. "That's it," you whisper. "Be a good sister and cum with me."

Sullyoon bucks and thrashes in pleasure. She reaches her orgasm at the same time as you and the two of you ride out the waves together. With each throb, you fill her up until she's practically overflowing. Finally, she collapses against the bed and you follow her shortly after. Her chest heaves against the bedsheets, tired and worn, and finally satisfied.

"You can't call me that," she complains, voice strained. "It's not cute, it's gross."

"And yet every time I do, you seem to cum harder," you respond simply. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, before shuffling into your embrace and resting her head against your chest. You both lay in silence, spent bodies wrapped up in each other's warmth. You absent-mindedly draw circles along her bare arm while she draws in deep breaths against your chest.

"I'm serious about this Belle thing." She breaks the quietude, her voice soft. You sigh heavily. "I don't want her here."

-

And yet, Saturday comes around just like clockwork.

The five of you sit awkwardly in the living room. A tray of drinks rests on the coffee table, untouched, and Sullyoon keeps shooting you pointed glares. The situation could be cut with a knife.

"It's such a long journey," Belle explains, talking fast and with a certain chirp in her voice. "We had to leave at five AM for the airport. It was still dark!"

"Oh my!" Your mother gushes. "So you must be tired." Sullyoon rolls her eyes hard.

"A little," Belle admits. "But I slept most of the flight so it's okay."

"Don't worry," you add politely. "It's a quiet area, you'll be able to sleep in tomorrow." She has only been here an hours but it's impossible to deny how charming Belle is. She's got a wide smile and sweet expressions—just a natural aura about her that makes her easy to speak to. It doesn't hurt that she's pretty, with large, dewy brown eyes, and soft hair resting on her shoulders. She wears a pair of jeans that hug her legs tightly and a top that's tied above her belly button.

She gives you this wide smile, that she's already given countless times, and thanks you, adding, "That sounds like heaven." Sullyoon's scoff catches everyone's attention. Four pairs of eyes fall on her and she squirms, hating the spotlight.

"Something wrong, dear?" your mom asks. Sullyoon shakes her head and reaches forward to grab her glass of lemonade. You can't help but let out a tiny laugh. Your mother shoots you both a suspicious glare but doesn't say anything.

You hadn't even noticed that Belle had been looking at you, but when you turn to meet her gaze you feel your stomach flip upside down. It could just be your overactive imagination but something in the look she's giving you has you flustered. Then she laughs too, albeit nervously. Your cheeks warm up and suddenly you have to look away.

"It's almost lunch, how about you help us in the kitchen, Sullyoon." Then your mother looks at you, "and you can show Belle where she'll be sleeping."

"Uh, sure," you reply, your words being met by Sullyoon shooting daggers with her eyes. Once your parents and your stepsister are out of sight, you gesture to Belle and she stands.

"The house is huge," she remarks, following you out of the room. "My old place was basically a box compared to this."

"Well, we live in the suburbs." You shrug. "I can show you around town later if you want." The two of you head up the staircase to where the bedrooms reside.

"You'd do that for me? Really?"

"Of course," you chuckle. Her giggles send goosebumps across your flesh. You pause for a moment and point down the hallway, "Mine is this way."

"This is so cool," Belle whispers. Really? A house is cool? "I always lived in this little studio apartment. My bed was right next to my kitchen."

Her casual remarks about her life, however mundane they are, are captivating. It's nice to meet someone so different from your usual friend group. "What was it like in the city?"

"Different from here," Belle responds. "It's loud all the time and the streets are busy, no matter the time or day." You push open the door to your bedroom and she follows in while she continues, "It was exciting but also way too much, you know? The parties were crazy—like movie-level crazy."

You gently nod as her thoughts trail off and she starts looking around the room. You watch as she takes it all in. Having made at least half an effort to clear some space for her, it looked kind of bare, compared to usual anyway. "Here," you offer, leading her over to your wardrobe. You slide open a couple of doors and explain, "This section is empty and you can hang your clothes up here."

"You didn't have to. I've lived out of my suitcase before when I travelled."

"No bother. You're a guest, make yourself comfortable." You gesture around the room. "I cleared the desk in case you need it and the sheets are fresh." (Which is good, after what you and Sullyoon had been doing the night before.)

"Thank you. This is already better than I could have ever hoped." When Belle smiles again, you feel a little flutter in your tummy. "Sorry about earlier," she adds. "Was your sister mad because of me?"

"She'll come around." You give a half-hearted assurance. Sullyoon's feelings aren't yours to share, but Belle does deserve some peace of mind. "Don't worry about her."

"I always wanted a sister, I hope she likes me." Belle nods gently, a faint expression of disappointment flashing across her face before fading back to neutral. She pauses and purses her lips together for a second. "And...you? Are you happy I'm here?"

"I've had to put up with one annoying step-sister for a long time, a second can't be much worse," you joke. A laugh leaves her lips and the tension dissolves instantly. The two of you stay silent for a few moments before you notice Belle starting to squint. "What's wrong?"

"It's really hot in here." She places her hand on her forehead as if checking her temperature. The thick beams of sunlight that are streaming in through the open curtains highlight her point. Sweat has started to gather on her neck and brow.

"Lemme fix that." You push open a window and draw a blind down. Belle waits patiently behind you as the bright morning sun vanishes into a muted grey. "There we go," you announce, turning around—and coming face-to-face with her. You freeze as if trapped by her intense gaze.

Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is hot. Beads of sweat shimmer in the sunlight. She stares at you, silently saying something that you can't quite decode. She smells sweet, like vanilla.

"Thanks." Her voice is soft, almost as delicate as the moment itself.

"You're welcome..." You say back, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"Uh, how about the rest of the house?"

"What about it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be showing me around?" She laughs and her soft tone breaks the tension. You shake the daze out of your mind and clear your throat.

"Of course. Let's go."

You point out the rest of the rooms, and then show her the bathroom, explaining, "My parents have their own so this is basically ours." As you head downstairs, you let her know, "Just try not to take the world's longest showers like Sullyoon." Belle laughs, which gives you the chance to admire how cute she looks when she's smiling.

-

It's been a low-key couple of days. Belle spent the whole time fawning over how cool it was to live out in the suburbs and subtly cursing how she had grown tired of the city—though half it felt like a sly brag. You had taken her into town the day before last, and while you're sure she would have been fine going back alone, she's asking you to take her.

Much to the annoyance of a certain someone.

"But Sunday is movie night," Sullyoon complains, lying on her bed. You're standing in the doorway, arms folded, telling her about your plan to accompany Belle.

"I'll be back in time and we can watch whatever movie you pick this week," you dismiss, already knowing she isn't going to listen to any attempt of yours to compromise. "Also, you could come with us."

"If I did come, then I would be hanging out with her, and I don't want to hang out with her." Sullyoon states blankly.

A quick glance to your side and you see Belle, standing in the hallway, hearing everything that Sullyoon is saying. There's a small pout that forms on her lips. A glimmer of sadness in her eyes. You feel a pang of sympathy. While Belle tries to smile as if it's nothing, you see right through the facade.

"Don't worry," she says. "I can go on my own." And with that, she heads off downstairs. You turn to your stepsister and shoot her a harsh glare.

"C'mon! Don't give me that look." Sullyoon pouts dramatically. "She's a big girl, she's used to being independent."

"Would it kill you to at least get to know her?"

"You're busy doing that for the both of us." She shoots an accusatory look. "Is one step-sister not enough?" Her words drip with insinuation, and you feel your face flush at what she's implying. You roll your eyes and curse at her, which makes her stand and walk towards you. Before she speaks, she pulls you by the arms and closes her door. "Oh come on! Admit it," she presses. "You think she's cute, huh?"

"So what?" You shrug and avert your gaze, cheeks red.

Sullyoon pauses, processing your answer. "Do you wanna fuck her?"

"Sullyoon!" You snap, feeling the blood rush to your head.

Her grin is devious, "You want her to replace me? Huh?" She teases. "Get a brand new stepsister who sucks your dick extra well?"

"You're sick."

"Oh, please. I've seen the way you two look at each other. Don't be surprised if she offers to top and tail with you tonight." Sullyoon smirks, "The couch must be so uncomfortable." Her voice is laced with sarcasm.

-

She said it was just going to be for essentials. A few shops to pick up items that didn't fit in her bags for the plane trip over. Yet, somehow, you find yourself browsing designer dresses for sale.

"It's my first weekend in a new country," she explains, pulling a silk purple dress free and pressing it up against her body. "Don't I deserve to treat myself?"

"I guess, but dresses like this? When are you planning on wearing them?"

"To dinners. To a club. On a date?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Who knows?"

"Wouldn't it be better to make the plans and then buy the dress?" You suggest with a laugh. Though you hate to admit it, the sleek material would look great on her.

"You hungry?" she asks. "How about dinner?"

"We should wait until we're home. Mum is expecting us both."

"Do you always do what you're told?" Belle pries.

"No...I—" You hesitate. She tilts her head to the side and flashes you a mischievous grin.

"Great. I'll get changed into this, we can dump the bags in the car and find a nice restaurant." She declares decisively. After rummaging around her bag for her wallet, she turns to face you. "Wish me luck, it's probably expensive."

"Wait—"

She's walking away before you can protest. You watch as she goes up to the woman running the place and pays for the dress. After that, Belle disappears behind a dressing screen. All the while, you're standing there, holding bags and looking confused.

There are a few silent moments. Ones where you try to formulate an excuse to turn her down; but just as quickly as they appear, the arguments vanish. In reality, the idea of a nice meal with Belle isn't exactly unappealing.

The curtain is drawn back, and she appears.

Wow.

It takes less than a second for your eyes to land on her waist. How the deep purple fabric hugs her figure so nicely, wrapping tight around her curves and squeezing her form. It's strapless and plunges into a v-neck that shows off so much skin. The hem stops mid-thigh and swishes with the movement of her hips.

"So? How do I look?"

You swallow, clearing a lump in your throat. "Incredible."

"That means you're paying for dinner then."

"Hey!" You start to protest. But it's no use, she's already laughing, slipping on a pair of white heels that pull the outfit together perfectly.

The restaurant she chose is tucked away from the main street. The soft yellow light glows through a window pane, casting a warm haze onto the sidewalk below. She holds your arm as she walks, using you for balance. The smell of her perfume hits you just as hard as her outfit does, sweet like vanilla.

"This place looks pretty fancy, right?" she asks with a cheeky smile. "You won't mind treating me, will you? After all, I have moved halfway around the world."

You roll your eyes and follow her in. A waiter welcomes you both, and seats you at a small booth in the corner of the dining room. A candle flickers in the centre, between glasses and cutlery. Belle scans the menu and occasionally takes sneaky glances across the table.

"So, how often do you take girls on dates?" she pries. "Not counting me."

"It's not that often, really."

"Then I must be special," she remarks playfully. "But don't worry, you're pretty cute too."

"Oh yeah?" You decide to play along. "Enough for a second date?"

"Hmm... maybe." The conversation is light and easy and just seems to flow naturally without needing any prompts or effort from either end.

Once you've ordered, Belle sips on a glass of wine, staring at you intently, her gaze unwavering, "I wish Sullyoon liked me as much as you do." Her statement catches you off-guard.

"I'm sorry for the way she's acting," you apologise. "She's probably fearing being replaced. She has always been a bit of a daddy's girl."

"I guess I can understand where she's coming from," Belle concedes, swirling the drink in her glass, watching as the crimson liquid swirls around gracefully. "I would be hesitant too. Change can suck sometimes, especially when it's unexpected." She takes a sip and then continues, "I was talking to my dad for a while, about coming over. And you know what he would talk to me about, every time?"

"Sullyoon."

Belle chuckles lightly and puts down her drink. "Yeah. He couldn't help himself. Always talking about the things she was doing. The friends she had. All those clubs she took part in. Made me so excited to meet her."

"Oh..." Now you understand.

"When I got here and realised that I wasn't gonna get a warm reception, it kinda hurt."

"Yeah. I know she can be...stubborn. Sometimes." You sigh. "Don't give up though, I know you'll get to know each other eventually."

She looks at you with hopeful eyes. "You really think so?"

"She warmed up to me eventually." You shrug and take a bite from your food.

"And how long did that take?" Belle asks, her tone playful once more.

"A couple of years."

She laughs again. "Ah, shit." She sits back in her seat, and then looks at you, intrigued. "What changed?"

"Maybe we realised we have stuff in common, or that we were more similar than we thought."

Belle tilts her head to the side, seemingly mulling over what you said. She purses her lips and squints her eyes like she's trying to connect invisible dots. She stabs at her pasta and silently returns to her food.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Nothing," she dismisses. "So, I heard you mentioning a movie night."

"Yeah," you reply. "It's kind of a tradition. We pick a shitty movie, order some pizza, and make fun of it."

"Guess I'm ruining that now?" she suggests.

"It's just one time, we've missed it before and I'm sure we'll miss it again."

"Maybe next week I can join you?"

You think about how movie nights usually end. Sullyoon, spread across a bed, with your head between her legs. You remember the feeling of her soft skin and warmth, the sound of her moans filling the air. And now that memory includes Belle sitting beside you both.

You choke on your drink slightly.

"Oh God." Belle gasps. "What did I say?"

"Nothing, drink just went to the wrong place is all." You cough. "Yeah, sure, you can join us."

Time passes so easily. The conversation is nice, and she's such an interesting woman. She talks about her life, the places she has been and the people she has known. And you reciprocate. By the time the check arrives, you feel like you've known each other for much longer than four days.

"You know, my dad talked about helping me find my own place. I can't keep your room forever," she admits as she's finishing up her last drink.

"That's fine, I can survive on the sofa."

Belle chuckles at that. "I feel bad for putting you out like this." Her fingers reach out to brush yours, lingering there momentarily before retracting. The contact sends a shiver up your spine. "How about we share the bed?"

"Excuse me?" you say in shock. She laughs again.

"Not in that way. I mean, we can put pillows between us or something. It wouldn't be weird, just two siblings sleeping in the same room." She pauses and chuckles. "Unless you snore."

"I don't!"

"Well, I guess we'll find out."

-

When you finally return home, the house is eerily quiet. Both your parents' cars are missing and Sullyoon has retired to her room. Belle carries her purchases while you follow close behind.

As you step onto the landing, Sullyoon's bedroom door opens. She's dressed in one of your shirts. The light that floods out highlights how long her legs are, with her toned thighs in full view. She stands and watches Belle walk into your shared bedroom, before turning her attention to you. "So?" She asks, arms folding.

"So, what?" you counter.

"You going to apologise for ruining my weekend?" she huffs, arms crossing defensively. Her pouty expression almost tempts you to bite back.

"You were invited."

Sullyoon scoffs. "Oh yeah. So that I could third-wheel. No thanks."

You pause and chew your bottom lip. "Did you get to watch the movie at least?"

"Yes, alone." Her frown intensifies. You try not to laugh at how adorable she looks. "Goodnight."

She stomps back into her room and closes the door behind herself. You bite back an amused smirk. Sullyoon has the tendency to be petty, but you never seem to realise how far she'll go until she does it. Still, you decide not to dwell on it, knowing that Sullyoon would rather ignore the problem than confront it directly. She'll forgive you when she decides to.

You round the corner into your room, bags in hand, and that's when you see her, pulling down the zipper that runs along her spine. The fabric falls in ripples and reveals her back. From the arch between her shoulders down to the dimples in her lower back, the milky skin is exposed. Your throat dries up instantly.

"How am I supposed to feel about you ogling me like that?" Belle jokes, glancing at you over her shoulder. Her eyes shimmer with intrigue.

"Sorry." You quickly spit and then turn around. She doesn't say anything but you hear her light steps over the carpet as she rounds you and closes the bedroom door.

"I was joking," she says while facing you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and ends right above the cup of her bra. She looks like a model straight out of the pages of some lingerie catalogue. You struggle to stay composed.

"So was I," you reply, pretending to be cool while you turn away again to set the bags down in the corner of the room. Belle laughs under her breath.

"I've gotten used to living alone. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put something on, but I'm used to sleeping in nothing but the covers." she offers. "But I don't mind, honestly."

The silence settles between you two and becomes deafening. You let out a nervous sigh. "It's okay," you finally state, grabbing shorts and a shirt and heading to the bathroom to change. "Just give me a moment." Once inside, you strip yourself of your clothes and run the water from the tap. You cup your hands together and fill them before splashing the cold water onto your face. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

This isn't a big deal. It doesn't have to be. You're going to be cool about the whole thing. You can handle having another gorgeous stepsister lying beside you in bed. It won't be hard at all.

You put your clothes on and march out of the bathroom. Belle has made herself comfortable in your bed, laying back against the pillow with her phone in hand. Her eyelids are half-open as she scrolls through social media apps lazily. The bedsheets cover her up to her shoulders.

"I've always slept on the left," she states absently, eyes still glued to her phone screen. You gulp. She pats the empty space beside her, invitingly. "That means you're on the right."

She turns off her phone as you enter the bed. As you slide under the covers, she turns and slides away to give you room. Your legs brush against hers by accident. Her smooth calves rub against yours and you freeze up. Then you feel her hand reaching out, touching your arm gently before drawing away again.

"Are you shy?" she asks with a tiny giggle.

"No," you lie, hoping that your cheeks aren't too flushed from embarrassment. The room goes pitch black when she flicks off the lamp. Only the distant glow of a street light shines through the curtains. Your eyes adjust and you make out her silhouette against the bedsheets.

"Just relax." Her voice echoes softly in the dark. She places her hand atop yours and squeezes firmly. She brushes her fingertips up along your forearm, stopping briefly near your elbow before trailing them back down again. Each stroke sends little shivers shooting up and down your spine. The effect of her touch is hypnotising; a powerful yet delicate combination of warmth and tenderness.

The movements continue for a while, in silence, as your eyes grow heavy.

"Sweet dreams," she whispers.

"Night Belle," you manage to mutter. Before you know it, you drift off to sleep.

-

At first, you don't even register the sensation, as if you are in a dream. First, it's the tickling of her hair in your face, followed by the feeling of her soft skin in your hand. Then it's the warmth, all along the front of your body. Belle is pressed against you tightly and your arm is around her. Holding her as the little spoon.

Your eyes flicker open.

You lay there in shock, unsure what to do, but also unwilling to move. The warmth radiates off of her, soothing every inch of you that she touches. Her breathing rises and falls slowly, as though she hasn't stirred yet. Her fragrance surrounds you, intoxicatingly sweet, leaving you lightheaded.

You try to adjust the arm that's trapped under her but she threatens to stir awake, mumbling unintelligibly against the pillow, as she shuffles around to get comfortable against you again. She moves her body against yours and presses harder.

Suddenly, you become very aware of exactly which parts of your bodies are making contact. Her ass grinds up against your crotch and the sensation causes a wave of heat to course throughout your entire core. Panic kicks in as you will your morning wood to retreat as quickly as possible. Yet no amount of willpower can stop the natural reaction to her plush butt cheeks.

You focus your attention elsewhere, trying to distract yourself by thinking of mundane tasks to pass the time—anything to prevent yourself from acknowledging your growing arousal. You count the speckles on the ceiling and list off ingredients of your favourite foods.

It doesn't work.

You have to get out. You start by pulling away your body, minimising the contact and creating separation. But then there's your arm, still stuck under her. Gently, ever so gently, you lift yourself away, trying to drag your limb free.

"Leaving already?" comes Belle's question. Her tone drips with mock offence.

"What? Uhhh.." you stutter. Shit. Not good.

Belle flips around to face you. In the morning glow, she's positively radiant. A beautiful angel bathed in warm sunlight. Her silky hair flows delicately as she turns. She flashes a devilish smile and says, "Look at that, our first night sharing a bed and you're already cuddling with me."

You're speechless. Blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel your heart beat faster in your chest.

"It was nice," she smiles. "Even if you were poking me in the ass."

Your jaw drops. Shame bubbles in the pit of your stomach and causes your skin to prickle. She laughs and pushes the sheets down to your waists. She's fucking topless. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of her breasts, perfect teardrops that hang deliciously against her chest, crowned by erect pink nipples. The sight sends you reeling into total disarray.

"You can't help it, I know." Her voice cuts through your dazed thoughts like a blade slicing through butter. "All guys wake up horny." She shuffles a little closer. "I can help it, though." Her hand snakes down beneath the sheet, into your shorts, and suddenly there's the unmistakable sensation of her fingers wrapped around your cock.

"Belle—" Her name leaves your throat weak and cracked. Heat envelops you and your brain goes into overdrive. No way is this real.

"Shhh," she whispers, leaning in until her lips are hovering close to yours. "I want to help," she says with a mischievous smirk.

She starts slowly stroking your dick. At first, it feels strange and foreign, but gradually melts into pleasure as the friction increases. Belle continues to stare, watching as the corners of your mouth twitch and twist, as if studying her own effect on you. Every time your breath hitches she seems to gain more confidence. She grips tighter and works her wrist faster, building up a steady rhythm.

"See, we can share this room." She keeps moving her hand up and down in perfect strokes, varying the pace every few seconds. Sometimes fast and firm, then slow and gentle. It's enough to drive anyone mad. "Isn't it great?"

"This is so messed up," you manage to groan out as your hips lift involuntarily.

"Is it?" She kisses the corner of your mouth. "Doesn't seem that bad to me."

She's right. It feels incredible. Despite everything, you don't want her to stop. You lean into her, desperate for her to kiss you, but instead, she pulls away, giggling softly. That only serves to frustrate you further, which seems to encourage her even more. She quickens her pace and leans closer to you again, stopping inches away from kissing distance once more.

Your eyes grow heavy again, but this time it's not sleep that overtakes you. Instead, it's bliss.

"Belle, what the fuck..." you whisper. Pleasure is burning hot in the base of your gut. Her wrist rolls as she jerks you off harder. "Why..."

She lets you go, hand slipping out of your shorts as quickly as it entered. "Here." She cups your hand in her own and pulls it towards her chest. "Feel free to touch." You know what happens when you allow temptation to guide your actions. Sullyoon is a case and point.

Despite that, you're unable to resist.

Her breast fits perfectly in your palm. So soft. Your fingers graze over the sensitive nipple. The moans that follow sound heavenly, even more so when accompanied by her coy smile. Without warning, her lips press against yours, sealing off any sort of protest. Her tongue dances across your bottom lip and into your mouth. Soft. Wet. Hot.

Heat pools between your legs. Her hand returns to its former place around your cock. She's so slow now, achingly deliberate. Your mind spins endlessly; overwhelmed by desire.

When you pull back, she gives a sly wink, "Tell me what you think, hm?"

"It feels so fucking good," you sigh. She responds with another kiss. The room fades to silence beyond your muffled moaning and wet kissing sounds. Time itself seems to grind to a halt.

"I knew you'd enjoy it," she murmurs into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before continuing, "Now...how about you return the favour?" Her words trail off as she lifts one of your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue twirls around it for a moment and then releases it with a wet pop.

"Sure," you mutter, too distracted to care about anything else. You slip your hand beneath the duvet and then push at her hip, turning her onto her back. You admire her upper body. From her chest to the curve of her hips, to the dip of her waist, she looks divine. Belle lies back and spreads her legs. And when your hand snakes between her thighs, she raises her arms above her head and grips the pillow tight.

"Fuck," she gasps as your fingertips run along her slit gently, enjoying how she bucks upwards to meet your digits.

"You're soaked," you marvel.

Belle grins wickedly and exhales slowly. "Mhm," she agrees. "And who's fault is that?"

"Me," you respond quickly.

You brush up and down her pussy with agonising slowness, revelling in how her slick fluids cling to your fingers, and coat them in their essence. After a few seconds of exploration, you circle her clit slowly with two fingertips. Her eyes snap shut instantly and she whimpers softly under her breath. It's mesmerising. She squirms wildly, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stifle her squeals of ecstasy.

Then she lets out this long drawn-out moan while she squeezes the pillow tight against the back of her head. "Fuck," she curses.

Your finger sinks inside of her effortlessly.

"T-that feels..." she whimpers between staggered breaths. You pump in and out of her, curling upwards against her walls every single time. Her hips sway to meet your thrusts, matching them perfectly. The sight drives you insane.

You withdraw your finger from her depths and circle it across her folds. Her legs tremble in anticipation.

"Please," she begs. Your cock throbs painfully.

She tilts her head backwards, baring the pale skin of her neck to you. An offering. One you take happily.

You press your lips against her soft flesh, savouring her taste. Her scent overwhelms you. You can feel her pulse thrumming frantically just beneath the surface of her skin. There's something intensely primal about being able to feel someone else's heartbeat racing against your own.

Your teeth clamp down on the area between her jaw and collarbone, holding her securely as you explore every inch of her sex with newfound fervour.

It isn't long until she writhes beneath you, panting heavily while clinging desperately to the bedsheets around her. Your movements grow faster, more frantic. Hungry even.

She threatens to get loud, and you know how bad that could be. There's a reason Sullyoon always comes into your room, it's the furthest from your parents, and even then you find yourself putting a palm over her mouth. Now it's just one thin wall. One thin wall separates Belle's moans from Sullyoon's ears.

So you shut her up the best way you know how.

She seems surprised when your mouth crashes against hers, silencing her squeals with your tongue, but the feeling is fleeting. Her arms wrap around the back of your neck, pulling her closer towards you. She tastes like strawberries and smells faintly of vanilla.

You absorb her moans into your mouth as she cums on your hand.

Her thighs tighten around you, locking your fingers deep within her core. She shudders violently as waves of pleasure wrack through her frame. Slowly but surely she relaxes again, letting out contented sighs mixed with tiny giggles of delight. When she opens her eyes again, her pupils are dilated and wide, shining brightly. She stares up at you dreamily. Her cheeks flushed red. Lips plump from kisses.

"Holy shit." Belle exhales hard before speaking again. Her voice still shakes with euphoria. "Good morning indeed."

"Yeah," you chuckle, rolling back to give her space.

"No," she stops you by placing a hand on your stomach. "We haven't finished."

"We haven't?"

"You haven't." She runs a hand down your body until it's back to how all this started. This time, she pushes your shorts clear of your hips and lets your erection spring free. She's climbing up and over you as she speaks, "Let me return the favour. We're family now."

Then she takes you into her mouth. Your thoughts blur together into a haze of lust and arousal, blinding your vision temporarily. Everything else fades away except for this girl who sucks your dick like she needs it to survive. Her tongue swirls around the crown of your tip teasingly while she bobs back and forth steadily. She hums around you, sending vibrations reverberating throughout your entire length, sending tingles shooting up and down your spine.

As her effort rises, so does she. Onto all fours and swinging a leg over yours. She's giving you this look—this hungry stare. You're hers now. Totally at her mercy. She keeps eye contact as she sucks you deeper than before. Then, without warning, her head lifts away from your cock completely, leaving behind a slick trail of spittle dripping down her chin. She wipes it away with her knuckles nonchalantly. Still wearing that predatory expression. Something about the action, the confidence of it, it makes you shiver.

She starts to stroke you, right before she dips her pretty face down to place her lips on your balls. Then it's her tongue, warm and wet against the sensitive skin. She alternates between tender kisses and loving licks all while staring up past your cock to meet your gaze. It's unbelievably hot.

"Don't cum yet," she whispers sweetly before returning her mouth around your length again.

"Can't promise anything," you groan back.

"Cute," she murmurs around your shaft.

Belle works you for a while. Those smokey eyes watch your every involuntary reaction while she worships your cock. Every twitch gets a quiet giggle. Every choked moan is met with a little lick across the tip.

It doesn't take long until the fire in your belly begins to spread.

"Belle," you strain, barely keeping a hold of your composure. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Not yet," she says with a smirk. "Here."

She shifts ever so slightly again, pushing her chest towards her pumping hand. She presses your tip against the hard nipple and jerks you off, alternating between the stiff buds. All you can do is watch, totally transfixed by what's happening before you. Her movements grow quicker and more frantic. Until it becomes almost too much.

You let it out, right onto her pretty little tits. Thick ropes across her flawless skin, painting her while she smiles. Even after you've been spent, she keeps working your shaft until it becomes painful. Oversensitivity has never felt sweeter.

"Oh god." Belle looks down at the mess you've made on her chest. Her grin is devious. She slips off the bed, taking a spare towel from underneath it and wiping at her chest and your crotch. Once you're both clean, she tucks you back in and crawls onto your torso. With a small bounce, she nestles down and lays on top of you. Her chest presses against yours.

"So," she coos, resting her chin on your sternum. "That happened."

You laugh and she quickly joins you. There's a feeling of shared exhilaration hanging between you both. A giddiness that comes from knowing you have just crossed an invisible boundary together.

"That was so fucking hot." Belle brings her palm up to cradle the side of your head affectionately. Her thumb brushes small circles against your temple, tracing patterns along the outline of your cheekbones. After a few seconds, her smile starts to fade. "Do you hate me?"

"Why would I?" You ask sincerely.

"I don't know. You're my step-brother. And I just..."

Her tone makes your heart ache ever so slightly, causing you to reach out for her face and cup her cheek in your palm. "If you hadn't made a move, I would have anyway," you confess.

"You're as messed up as me, then."

She has no idea.

-

Towel and a change of clothes in hand, you start to open the bathroom door when you hear your name. Sullyoon's distinct voice. You hesitate, halfway through the threshold, and turn back to see her walking down the corridor. "So, what, you don't like me anymore?"

"What are you talking about?" You retort defensively.

She puts on this mocking voice. "'Yes Belle, I'll take you to town.' 'Yes Belle, I'll take you to dinner and stand up the sister I actually know.' You've known her for two minutes! Two!"

You feel shame rising inside your chest. It's a weird feeling that just trying to be a good brother (or a bad one) has driven some divide between you and Sullyoon. You try to explain, "She's flown to a whole new country. It's difficult. We have to welcome her. If I didn't have to do it alone then we could see each other more." You sigh, "She really wants to hang out with you, you know."

Sullyoon crosses her arms, looking smug, "Oh, I bet."

"She does," you insist, trying your best not to appear too frustrated with her. "She was excited about movie night and she wants to join us next week." To this, Sullyoon simply scoffs.

"Yeah, right."

There's a pause where neither of you knows what to say. Eventually, it is broken by your stepsister's words.

"Doesn't change the fact that you left me alone on our night." She pouts dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out adorably. You roll your eyes at her antics. Sometimes, her stubbornness can border upon childishness.

"Sullyoon," you say flatly. "Come on. That's not fair."

She shrugs dismissively, clearly unconvinced. "What's not fair is that we haven't done it in almost a week."

You drop your towel and clothes on the bathroom floor and step out quickly towards her. You quickly hold your palm against her plump lips to silence her. "Not so loud."

She grabs your wrist, pulling her mouth free. "Our parents are out, calm down." But then she uses the leverage to yank you forward, right into her arms. "Maybe you should make it up to me."

"Sullyoon." You chastise. Boundaries exist for a reason, and doing this out here in the hallway is not what you agreed. You pry her away and walk back into the bathroom.

She follows each step, and as soon as you turn back to close the door, she's already slipping through and closing it herself. Before you have a chance to protest, Sullyoon's hands grab your face and bring you into a fierce kiss. She wastes no time sliding her tongue between your lips, demanding entry. You resist for only half a second before giving in fully, allowing yourself to become consumed by her passionate embrace. Her fingers grasp tufts of your hair tightly, tugging at the strands gently enough that it sends pleasant shivers running down your spine instead of hurting.

"The hell are you doing?" You eventually ask when she breaks away from your mouth, albeit reluctantly.

"Making up for lost time," she whispers as she slips down to her knees, grabbing the sides of your shorts.

You panic. "Hey, hey—" you exclaim as you stop her. She looks at you confused as to why you aren't happy with getting blown. She furrows her brows and then forcefully tugs them down. Your soft cock springs free, hanging mere inches from her waiting lips. Sullyoon licks them in anticipation while keeping her eyes trained solely upon yours.

But that's when she notices something.

There's a brief moment where the two of you lock gazes; where there should be nothing but lust swimming amidst those hazel irises, there is concern. She inhales sharply, catching a scent which throws her into alert mode. You can practically see the gears turning within her brain.

She stands up immediately, stares you dead in the eyes and says, "What the fuck is that?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, dumbass. You smell like sex and there's lipstick on your cock."

Shit.

"Belle!" Sullyoon calls as she marches back down the hall, bursting into your bedroom. You almost stumble over your shorts and rush to pull them back up to your waist. You dash behind her, terrified at what will happen next.

You round the corner into your room and Sullyoon is standing at the foot of your bed. Belle has her phone in hand, still lying in bed, with the covers up to her chest.

"Slut!" Sullyoon snaps.

"Excuse me?" Belle sits up straight, clutching the duvet to cover herself up properly, glaring back at your sister angrily.

"You heard me. Stay the fuck away from him. He's mine. My brother."

You wince in the silence. Belle just stares at the furious Sullyoon while the gears turn in her mind. Glancing back and forth between the two of you, she's clearly piecing it together. She smirks and then chuckles. "Oh my god! You're fucking him!"

"That's none of your business." Sullyoon retorts sharply.

"Now it all makes sense," she says while pointing her finger and waggling it between you and Sullyoon. "Do I threaten you?"

"No." Sullyoon lies, rather poorly.

"That's cute," Belle laughs. "So, what, you're in love with your brother?"

"No!" Sullyoon snaps, more assured of herself that time. "That's gross."

Belle gives you a look. "So it's just about the sex? What's the big deal?" She asks bluntly. "Clearly he has a type." She gestures to you and smirks again. "There's enough of him to share."

Sullyoon scoffs at her proposal. "Share?" she repeats incredulously. She glances back at you and you offer nothing but a shrug in reply. "Absolutely not," Sullyoon responds firmly.

"Why?" Belle questions innocently.

"I don't wanna."

"Come on," Belle whines, letting her frustration show for once. She throws up her hands dramatically as she argues passionately, "Look, I understand wanting to keep him all to yourself, believe me! He's adorable." As she speaks, her eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, making heat rise to your face rapidly. "I'm not trying to steal him or anything. Actually, we might just have more in common than you think."

Sullyoon rolls her eyes. "Unbelievable," she sighs.

"Just picture it," Belle insists. "The three of us, here, together."

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Sullyoon crosses her arms. She isn't going anywhere.

"A threesome."

"Belle..." you caution, but it goes unheard.

"You can even go first," Belle offers casually.

This is ridiculous. Completely absurd. You watch the scene unfold in disbelief. Sullyoon appears to mull the proposition over, her foot tapping impatiently against the carpet as she thinks. There's no way she will agree. Not in a million years would she even consider such a thing... Right?

Sullyoon closes her eyes briefly and inhales deeply through her nose before exhaling slowly. She looks between both of you several times until she finally meets your gaze again and nods decisively. "Fine. Let's do this. Right here, right now." Her tone has turned resolute, decisive, confident, and bordering on cocky.

Your mouth falls agape. Is this really happening?

"Wait. Really?" Belle seems equally shocked by this sudden change. Apparently neither one of you expected her acquiescence quite this quickly or easily.

You look between the two girls. Back and forth. They're doing the same. It's this strange triangle of hesitancy and confusion.

"So how do we...?" Sullyoon trails off, obviously unsure as to how things work from this point forward. She's used to your shared normal, your routine; just the two of you having sex. Spontaneity demands creativity.

"I don't know. It's kinda..." You chime in but don't know how to explain it.

Belle rolls her eyes at the two of you. "Oh my god. Come on." She scoots closer toward the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet away. It slides off her shoulders revealing the perfect curve of her bare breasts. It's not like you've forgotten the sight of them not long ago (nothing about Belle is forgettable) but it sure does hit differently under the context of the situation. She gestures to the bed behind her. "If you two want to fuck, just fuck."

Sullyoon shoots daggers at Belle but still decides to approach regardless. When she reaches you, she grabs your hand roughly and drags you onto the mattress with her. It's all so easy, so natural, falling into a tangle of limbs with her. Even if Belle is watching, even if she's sitting right there. None of that matters anymore because once your mouths collide, everything else fades into insignificance.

You taste the sweetness of her saliva. Feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Smell her familiar perfume, lavender and honey. She's all around you, encasing you completely and enveloping you entirely until all that remains is her. The kiss grows more intense, tongues wrestling as she straddles your lap and grinds her crotch down onto yours eagerly. Desperately seeking relief from the throbbing between her legs.

Then her fingers snake beneath your shirt and lift it over your head, breaking contact. She flings the clothing across the room carelessly before returning the attention to your lips once more. As she leans in for another embrace, you remember exactly where you are, who's there with you, and why they're here.

"Belle—" you start, breaking away mid-kiss. You gesture to her awkwardly as Sullyoon starts mouthing at your neck.

"Mmm?" She answers as she crawls towards your outstretched hand.

"Are you okay with this?"

She takes it upon herself to grab hold of your wrist and guide your palm right onto her naked breast, guiding it around with her own grip. She holds you there until you get the memo, massaging it gently between your digits whilst rubbing her fingertip atop your finger delicately, coaxing you to tweak her erect nipple. "Very," she finally replies.

"This is so weird," Sullyoon remarks, lifting away from your shoulder as Belle moves to her side and perches on her knees.

"It was already weird before I got involved," Belle jokes back, giving you a mischievous grin. She brings her free hand up to cup Sullyoon's cheek.

Sullyoon shies away, "I won't kiss you."

"I wouldn't expect it."

They look at each other for a moment, as if silently coming to some kind of understanding that transcends verbal language altogether. After a few more seconds pass by without further incident, you see them exchange conspiratorial smirks, as though they were sharing some hilarious joke at your expense.

Sullyoon pulls her top over her head, while Belle makes a move at your shorts. For the second time this morning, she's pulling your cock free from them, only this time, she's presenting it to Sullyoon. Her hand wraps around the shaft and starts to jerk it up and down, eliciting a low moan out of you which catches their collective attention. Belle smiles slyly.

In her delicate lace bra, Sullyoon lowers her head, opens her mouth and presents her tongue. Belle presses your tip onto her tongue and Sullyoon is quick to lap at it hungrily. She slides her hands up along your thighs, gripping firmly as she takes you deeper.

"That's hot," Belle murmurs softly, still pumping you.

All you can do is bite your lip and watch as your stepsisters service your length together, competing for its pleasure and attention. They swap turns, passing you back and forth while occasionally meeting in the middle, sucking along either side. It's a little awkward, the way they get in each other's way, but somehow that makes it hotter. Seeing their cheeks squish together, heads bump and lips brush accidentally while fighting for dominance over your dick.

At one point, when Sullyoon has sucked you all the way to the hilt, you notice Belle burying her fingers into Sullyoon's hair. Then the hand slides further, until it cups the back of your sister's head. Then she pushes, holding her in place while she swallows your entire length. Sullyoon panics at first, spluttering slightly against your shaft before she relaxes, settling into the gag, taking it for a bit longer before Belle releases her.

"Fuck!" Sullyoon gasps once she has the freedom to breathe. Strings of spittle connecting her open mouth to the tip of your cock. "Why?"

"Because it's hot," Belle shrugs.

"She's right," you manage to groan out. "Very hot."

"See?" Belle states triumphantly. She places her hand behind your sister's head again, "So do it again."

Sullyoon doesn't put up any resistance. Belle pushes her down, holding her down again as you enter deep into the wet confines of her throat. Sullyoon grips tightly at the flesh of your thighs and tries to relax her body. Despite the initial discomfort, there's no denying that having someone else dictate the terms of her oral servitude adds another layer of eroticism to the whole affair. Belle lets her resurface with a deep gasp for air, spit smeared across her chin, a thin strand dangling precariously between the underside of your erection and the tip of her tongue.

"Look at how pretty you are like that," Belle coos condescendingly while stroking Sullyoon's hair affectionately, almost lovingly even. In spite of everything else, the humiliation of being reduced to such an object, you catch Sullyoon blushing at the praise. Even more shocking, Sullyoon seems to lean into her caresses willingly.

"You've made her blush, Belle." You joke lightly, breaking some tension. It earns a glare from Sullyoon. The humour is short-lived.

After another couple of rounds, during which you have to fight every instinct within yourself not to cum in either of their mouths, Belle asks, "Can I see you ride him?"

One thing is becoming clear: Belle loves to watch.

Sullyoon sits up and wipes the excess saliva from her jawline with the back of her wrist, still panting slightly from being choked so thoroughly. After regaining some composure, she merely nods her consent. There's an underlying tension, however subtle, woven throughout their interaction now but a hint of mutual respect borne from seeing the other's ability to please you so well.

As Sullyoon stands, Belle seems to ponder. On her knees, staring at her sister's body, as if admiring every aspect of her figure; slender legs, tight waist, and cute ass. You get it. You've been there. Gawking at Sullyoon from afar, stealing glances while nobody notices, fantasising about those very curves. And yet it's surreal seeing somebody else experiencing it in front of you.

When Belle speaks up, she points to Sullyoon's shorts. "May I?"

"Go ahead," Sullyoon mutters nonchalantly, almost absentmindedly. Her full focus seems to revolve around climbing onto your lap. Meanwhile, Belle carefully peels away the fabric that clings to Sullyoon's lower body, easing her out of them until her legs come free. In a series of graceful motions, Belle has exposed Sullyoon down to nothing—helped because Sullyoon never wears underwear in the house.

As Sullyoon settles over your hips, resting on her knees, Belle crawls up next to you, positioning herself comfortably alongside your body. She props herself upright, leaning sideways against your torso for support. With a finger, she traces shapes across your chest, drawing abstract patterns into your skin idly while keeping her eyes locked exclusively forward, entranced by Sullyoon above you.

She takes hold of your dick at its base. Taking her time to drag both it and herself against each other, exchanging spit and slick fluids that coat them. There's a little sway and rotation to her hips, teasing incessantly until the anticipation threatens to drive you mad. The soft skin of her tummy looks so tasty from here, rising and falling slowly as she breathes and moving as she rolls her body.

There comes a point where enough is enough.

Just as you reach to grab yourself and guide it inside of her, Belle stretches her hand down between Sullyoon's legs and takes hold of your cock instead. She slaps your tip against your sister's swollen clit. Up and down, hitting the sensitive button repeatedly. All it takes is one errant flick downwards, however accidental (or not), and now your cockhead is nestled snugly into Sullyoon's entrance.

Belle draws her palm back up over your body. "Sorry, my bad," she giggles. Except you know better, seeing the smug twinkle that sparkles behind her irises. Before you can say anything more, Sullyoon succumbs to gravity and the pleasure it brings. Her hips sink down. Accepting inch after inch of you inside of her welcoming pussy until every last bit fits snuggly within her walls. She groans quietly.

It's all so familiar—the sensation of being enveloped by her velvety folds—but still wonderful nonetheless.

The shift of pressure when she begins to grind on top of you reminds you of those many times in the evening darkness, those instances when all that mattered was staying silent. Now you have an audience. Somebody watching intently from your side.

Belle watches the action unfold, a gasp here and giggle there. Sullyoon's body arches back subtly whilst she rocks her pelvis back and forth rhythmically atop yours. Her eyelids droop heavily as ecstasy surges through her veins, causing goosebumps to prickle over her smooth flesh as she rides.

"You like riding your brother's dick?"

"Y-Yes," Sullyoon stutters out, too preoccupied to register fully what she said. This sets off the deviant in Belle. You sense her growing bolder, more confident with her lecherous remarks knowing they'll be met with little to no resistance.

"You gonna cum on it?"

"Yes!" Sullyoon cries. Every downward motion presses her clit against your pubic bone, sending waves rippling through her petite frame. You grip her waist firmly, helping her. Her ass collides loudly against your thighs when she bottoms out each time. There's hardly any need for you to buck your hips and meet her.

"Yeah, you love fucking your stepbrother, don't you?"

Sullyoon only whimpers. Whatever argument or shame she might muster has fallen prey to her own desires. Now that she's been given permission—to indulge these fantasies openly with others—it appears as though she'll never go back. How can anyone turn away from such bliss?

And to your own amazement, neither of you seems fazed by the fact Belle bears witness to everything transpiring before her eyes.

"So dirty. Such a bad girl." Belle's tone is sultry sweet like honey dripping off a spoon. She leans closer and plants her lips against yours softly. It takes a second, a single heartbeat passing in silence where your tongue darts forward to greet hers. Suddenly the kiss has become something fierce and passionate—an exchange filled entirely with unbridled hunger that knows nothing besides passion itself. Nothing exists beyond its carnal needs right now except for maybe one thing...

An explosion erupts deep within Sullyoon; an eruption so violent that it causes her entire form to shake uncontrollably atop you. Her moans fill your bedroom, and her whole body draws tense before collapsing limply upon you like a marionette whose strings had just been cut loose by some unseen force. She quivers and writhes atop your throbbing shaft.

"Must be one hell of a ride," Belle comments through laboured breaths.

"Find out for yourself," you respond, matching her energy.

"Mmmm," she purrs thoughtfully whilst absentmindedly tracing circles across Sullyoon's exposed backside. "Let's switch, 'kay?"

You're quick to respond. Grabbing onto Sullyoon's ass cheeks, digging your fingertips firmly into each supple mound as you hoist her upwards. Your cock slips effortlessly free, causing a shudder to run through you both simultaneously before pulling apart completely. A mixture of sexual fluids oozes messily down her thighs when you set her aside on the mattress.

Now it's Belle's turn.

The atmosphere shifts drastically as she straddles you. Where previously things had taken on this languid dreamlike state—with Sullyoon's gentle undulations atop your cock, punctuated by moans echoing throughout the room—now the urgency returns anew.

Once Belle has mounted you correctly, sinking down until she reaches hilt-deep within herself, then she starts gyrating wildly. Hips rolling furiously fast and grinding her sex hard against yours, driving you deeper than ever before.

Her tits bounce deliciously from the impacts and her lips purse prettily with exertion. From nothing to everything in the blink of an eye. She's leaning over you, pressing her forehead against yours and staring right into your soul as she rides your cock mercilessly. And those eyes—those beautifully smokey eyes—are burning with lustful fervour.

Belle's hot breath mingles sweetly together amidst the haze surrounding you two. Then her lips crash against yours in a searing kiss that steals away whatever remaining oxygen you have left within your lungs. Tongues dance between teeth, entwining passionately against one another until you're forced apart by necessity.

"How is he?" Sullyoon speaks up. She sounds remarkably coherent despite appearing like a spent mess lying sprawled out beside you two.

"Fucking huge," Belle gasps in response without breaking stride. Her pace doesn't slow at all, if anything she speeds up even more in defiance to accommodate your size better. Her voice wavers slightly when she speaks again. "He feels so good," she murmurs softly against your earlobe.

"Give me his face," Sullyoon demands, crawling closer to you, propping her body upright next to your head. Once her hands cup your cheeks and tilt your face up, she swings a leg over your head and positions her snatch directly above your mouth. Then she descends downwards gently, pressing herself flush against your lips.

As soon as contact occurs between tongue and slit, Sullyoon jolts upright suddenly as bolts shoot straight towards her core. Eagerly lapping away at her glistening cunt causes a ripple effect throughout her whole physique, making her hips gyrate involuntarily against your open mouth.

Belle continues slamming herself down hard atop you, rocking your entire foundation relentlessly. She throws her head backwards as the momentum builds steadily higher and higher. Unrestrained groans spill freely from her throat unchecked as pleasure overwhelms every other rational thought inside her brain. Meanwhile, you feast on the nectar that flows forth copiously from your step-sister's pussy, savouring the ambrosia coating thickly around your tongue as you slurp it greedily down.

Time loses meaning while submerged beneath the sea of sensations cascading over you ceaselessly—nothing existing beyond the confines of flesh pounding against flesh nor the taste saturating every inch of your being.

You claw for some sort of respite, finding your fingers digging into Sullyoon's ass as a makeshift warning of the feeling in your body. You're close but they won't stop, in fact, Belle works harder.

Everything escalates tenfold. Everything gets faster; harder; wilder.

It drives you absolutely insane.

Your cock spasms violently inside of Belle's convulsing sex. Simultaneously, she's screaming something incomprehensible—not quite words necessarily but definitely conveying something meaningful nonetheless. The surge of euphoria crashes through you like waves crashing upon the shore during a stormy night—ferociously crashing through every fibre of your being with unrestrained vigour. Cum floods her depths in hot thick spurts and her body tenses rigidly, shaking fiercely whilst gripping tightly onto you for stability. Sullyoon trembles too, twitching sporadically and squealing loudly through clenched teeth before eventually slumping forward once again, collapsing heavily upon your face while riding out her orgasmic peak alongside yours.

Seconds feel like minutes, minutes seem like hours.

Eventually, the intensity fades, replaced instead by gentle numbness which fills the void afterwards. You lay there, breathing raggedly—heart hammering heavily within ribcage and sweat trickling down skin dampened thoroughly, amongst bodily fluids staining sheets soaked in evidence of prior debauchery. Eventually, your sisters roll off of you.

Silence prevails for several long moments afterwards. No sound penetrates beyond shallow breaths. Nobody says anything; no words need be uttered aloud to express emotions present right now anyway.

***

Three days later, you wake up in bed, sandwiched between your sisters. Legs intertwined, warm skin brushing against one another and soft chests pillowing against your sides. Asleep.

This isn't unusual—not anymore. How quickly it has all become routine to sleep squished between them.

It's also not weird or uncomfortable. At least, you try to convince yourself of that. Because otherwise...well...

You decide not to finish the thought. Instead, you opt to focus solely on enjoying the sensation of having both beautiful girls wrapped snugly around you. Revel in their warmth and breathe deeply their scent. Cherish this dirty, taboo arrangement for all it's worth. There will surely come a day when everything falls apart; when reality inevitably comes knocking at the door. But until then, why not indulge? 

[cjlouwho]

Tommy just isn’t a bottom though it’s crazy to me that people force him to be just to match their weird ass fantasy.

I'm gonna make him bottom even harder now!!!

Continuation from this little guy

"Oh God, yeah, yeah, like that, Evan, fuck!"

"We- we're supposed t- to be talking," Buck stuttered, hooking Tommy's legs over his shoulders to get a better angle.

"We, mhm, we did. Good talk, ohmygodyes, good talk." Tommy brought his hands to Buck's sides, gripping him and pulling him in harder, faster. "Can you, uh-huh, kiss me, please?"

Who was Buck to deny him that? He leaned down, nearly bending Tommy in half, and pressed their lips together, licking his way into Tommy's mouth.

He couldn't thrust into him as hard at this angle, his movements short and sharp, but Tommy didn't seem to mind from the sounds he was making.

Sounds that drove Buck absolutely insane. He'd heard them a little in the supply closet, had to try and keep him quiet then, but he didn't have to do that now. And even with Buck's tongue halfway down Tommy's throat, Tommy managed to grunt and whine and nearly fucking purr with every movement Buck made.

"Shit, Tommy," Buck panted, resting his forehead against Tommy's. "I- I never heard you like this before."

"I miss- oh, fuck- I missed you, Evan."

Damn it, Buck was not going to cry right now. He didn't care how misty his eyes were getting, he would not cry. He lifted himself back up, staring into Tommy's eyes. They were wet too, red-rimmed with tears he was also unwilling to shed.

"I missed you too." He dropped Tommy's legs off his shoulders and, in one swift movement, rolled them over until Tommy was on top.

The movement buried Buck even deeper inside him, and Buck nearly came at the sight of Tommy's eyes rolling back in his head.

"Work for it," Buck demanded. He wrapped his hand around Tommy's cock and slowly, so fucking slowly, began to jerk him off.

Tommy shivered at the touch, at the words, at Buck's cock hitting right against his prostate every time he so much as moved an inch.

"I won't l- last long," Tommy admitted, a blush rising over his sweat-slick skin. God, Buck wanted nothing more than to lick the sweat off every inch of his body. He'd make a mental note to do that later.

Because there would be a later.

Tommy lifted up until the head of Buck's cock was all that was left inside him, then he slammed himself back down. Once, twice, three times, and he was coming all over both Buck and himself.

It didn't take long for Buck to follow after him, coming deep inside him for the second time that night.

Tommy nearly collapsed on top of Buck, their sticky bodies practically melding into one.

After a couple minutes of silence, Buck turned his head to the side and pressed a kiss against Tommy's temple. "You wanna get up?" he asked. "So I can get us a rag?"

"Can you just... stay in me?" Tommy replied, point blank. He bit down at Buck's pulse point, just enough to tease, then licked against it to soothe the skin. "Stay in me until your hard," he whispered, "and then fuck me again," he kissed along his neck, "and again," along his jaw, "and again," he punctuated the last one by clenching around Buck's dick, moaning against his lips. "Please, Evan."

"Holy shit," Buck breathed out. He wrapped his arms around Tommy's back and held onto him tight. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me. B- but yeah, yeah I can do that."

Tommy smiled, resting his weight over Buck. "Want you in me forever, Evan." He spoke the words like a secret. A promise.

And while it might not be possible to physically remain connected to him for the rest of their lives, in this moment, Buck never felt more determined to figure out a way to do it.

[misaerabl]

Kiss and Tell (or Not)

"Teach me how to kiss"

SUMMARY: When your best friend Ellie—an awkward disaster with an inflated ego—casually flaunts her dating experience, you jokingly ask her to teach you how to kiss. Things escalate quickly from a half-hearted peck to a proper tutorial, leaving both of you flustered, laughing, and maybe questioning what this whole "friendship" thing even means.

WARNINGS: just kissing, r and e are "friends", just two losers

A/N: i know i said i wouldn't post today but this isn't rlly Christmas related and I'm just about to go to bed so... (I'll add the wordcount tmrw, i typed this up literally straight into tumblr idk this might be word vomit)

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count : ??

It started as a joke, as most things with Ellie did. She was lying on your bed, her legs kicked up against the wall, her favorite beat-up hoodie pulled over her head. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, the laptop in front of you long forgotten as the conversation shifted to relationships—or, more specifically, your lack of one.

“I can’t believe you’ve had two relationships, and I haven’t even been kissed,” you said, throwing a pillow at her. She caught it with a dramatic grunt, smirking like the smug idiot she was.

“What can I say? People can’t resist me,” Ellie replied, brushing her knuckles against her chest like she was the hottest thing alive.

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might fall out of your skull. “You’re so full of it.”

“Full of charm,” she countered, grinning.

But the grin faded when you didn’t say anything for a moment, staring down at your lap instead. Ellie noticed, propping herself up on her elbows to study you.

“Hey,” she started, her voice softer now. “You good?”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip before blurting out the thought that had been simmering in your head for the past few minutes. “You could teach me.”

“Teach you what?”

“How to, you know... kiss.”

Her jaw actually dropped, and for a moment, you thought she was going to laugh. But she didn’t. Instead, she blinked at you like you’d just asked her to solve world hunger.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything,” you said quickly, heat rushing to your face.

“No, no, no. Hang on,” Ellie said, sitting up completely now. “You’re telling me you want me to teach you how to kiss because I’ve dated two people?”

“Well... yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

She was quiet for a moment, and then: “You really think I’m qualified for that?”

You shot her a look. “Ellie, you’re the only person I know who’s been in a relationship. Twice.”

“Fair point,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck. She still looked like she couldn’t believe what was happening. “Okay, so, uh... how do we do this?”

You gave her a flat look. “You’re the one with the experience. Shouldn’t you know?”

“Right, right,” she said, nodding like she was about to present a PowerPoint on the subject. She leaned forward a little, her expression awkwardly serious. “Okay, so... uh, close your eyes, I guess?”

“This is so weird,” you muttered but did as she said, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting.

You felt her shift closer, the bed creaking beneath her. Then, after a beat, her lips brushed yours—soft, hesitant, and barely there. It was over almost as quickly as it started, and when you opened your eyes, Ellie was already pulling back, her ears a suspicious shade of red.

Ellie sat back, rubbing the back of her neck and looking anywhere but at you. “Well, there you go. First kiss—check. You’re welcome.”

You frowned, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up your neck. “That wasn’t... I mean, it barely counted.”

She gawked at you. “What do you mean it barely counted? You said you wanted to learn, and I taught you!”

“That wasn’t teaching, Ellie. That was, like... the demo version,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Ellie groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Are you kidding me right now? You want a full-on tutorial?”

“I want a proper kiss,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “You’re supposed to show me how to do it right, aren’t you? I mean, how am I supposed to learn from that?”

She looked at you, her eyebrows raised like you’d just asked her to climb Mount Everest. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Yes, I do,” you shot back, though the flush on your cheeks was betraying your confidence.

Ellie groaned again, flopping back onto the bed. “This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever asked me to do, and that’s saying something.”

“Ellie, come on,” you insisted, tugging on her sleeve. “Please? Just... one more time? A proper kiss.”

She let out a long, dramatic sigh, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Fine. But if this ruins our friendship, it’s on you.”

“It won’t ruin anything,” you said quickly, though a tiny voice in the back of your head wondered if that was true.

Ellie sat up again, her face pink but determined. “Alright. Sit here,” she said, patting the bed next to her.

You hesitated for a moment before climbing up and sitting cross-legged across from her. The air between you felt heavier now, charged with an energy that hadn’t been there before.

“Okay,” Ellie said, clearing her throat. “This time, no half-assing it. Got it?”

“Got it,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned in again, slower this time, giving you plenty of chances to back out. But you didn’t. Her hand found its way to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. When her lips met yours, it wasn’t hesitant like before. It was soft but certain, warm but not overwhelming.

This time, it wasn’t over so quickly. Ellie tilted her head slightly, her movements careful and unhurried, as if she was trying to make sure you understood each step. When she finally pulled back, her face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and she couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Happy now?” she mumbled, her voice almost gruff.

You nodded, your heart still racing. “That... yeah. That was good. Proper.”

“Good,” she said quickly, standing up and pacing the room like she needed to burn off some of the awkward energy. “Glad we got that out of the way.”

You watched her, biting back a smile. “You know, for a self-proclaimed charmer, you’re awfully flustered.”

She shot you a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “Shut up.”

Ellie had been pacing the room after the kiss, her hands stuffed into her hoodie pocket, muttering to herself about how "this was so weird" and "friends don’t do this kind of stuff." You had stayed on the bed, still trying to process what just happened, your fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Eventually, her pacing stopped, and she leaned back against the wall, her head thudding softly against it as she exhaled a long breath. “Okay, so... that was... something,” she muttered, glancing at you.

You looked up at her, and suddenly, her eyes locked with yours. Neither of you said anything, but the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with something unsaid.

Her gaze was steady, and before you knew it, she was pushing off the wall and crossing the short distance between you. The tension that had been simmering finally snapped as she leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that wasn’t hesitant or experimental this time. It was deliberate, almost urgent, like something she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into her, your hands clutching the fabric of her hoodie as if you needed something to hold on to. The kiss was different—less about teaching and more about... feeling.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, and her breath came in soft, uneven puffs. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. “I... I don’t know why I did that.”

You swallowed, your chest tight. “Don’t be sorry.”

Ellie leaned back slightly to look at you, her expression conflicted. “This was supposed to be a lesson, not... whatever that was.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind still spinning from the kiss. But instead of answering, you reached out, your fingers curling around her wrist. “Ellie...”

Her name on your lips seemed to ground her, and for a moment, she just looked at you, her green eyes searching your face like she was trying to figure something out. Then she sighed, a soft, almost defeated sound, and flopped onto the bed beside you, her hand brushing yours.

“Well,” she said, breaking the silence with a dry chuckle, “you’re officially not bad at kissing now.”

You laughed despite yourself, the tension easing just a little. But even as the two of you fell back into your usual banter, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had changed—and that maybe, just maybe, Ellie felt it too.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi hii!

New follower here!

Love your writings, I love how you write for each of the TF141 my men 😌.

Just wanted to hop in and ask how would you think each of the men would react if they found out their SO has a MAGNIFICENT singing voice. 😊

Oki that’s it haha. 😅

Hi! Hello! At the time of you sending this in, you were a new follower, but it has been a MINUTE! (And by minute I mean several months; y'all I am very backlogged on imagines requests). So, welcome! Hello! Happy you're here!

I adore this ask. It's so CUTE. Love the idea of reader not revealing that they can sing and just surprising them in either very odd or normal ways. Like, reader doesn't think it's a big deal but the guys do!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, brief suggestive themes, undercover, tf141!reader (Soap's), nondescript nudity, fluff, karaoke, alcohol

Word Count: 1.2k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John Price

John settles against the booth, his gaze roaming over the crowd. Cigar smoke lingers in the air, and the only light comes from tiny candles at each of the tables. His target is here, sitting at a table at the front of the room next to the stage.

You are somewhere behind the scenes—somewhere backstage. It annoys John that you volunteered to do this, to put yourself on display, and it irritates him further that he cares at all. Whatever interest he feels needs to be set aside. You are his coworker—a teammate. It can’t be more than that when the two of you are in the field. It doesn’t matter that it’s his name you moan in the dark.

But you’re the bait—the pretty thing that will catch the target’s interest and reel him in, and that makes John’s blood fucking boil.

The announcer appears on stage, dropping your fake name. The crowd politely claps and John steels himself.

As the curtain opens, John expects you to be clad in something revealing, to parade around and undress further. This club is known for that, but instead, you twinkle like starlight. The dress itself might appear to be nothing but air with the appearance of sheerness, but there is nothing revealed to the naked eye.

No. You’re covered. And you take nothing off.

A live band starts to play. You open your mouth, and beauty emerges, enveloping John like a snug hug.

Every note is magnificent. Gorgeous. You are angelic and seductive in equal measure. A siren on stage luring all in attendance to their end.

How did he not know you could sing like this?

John’s mouth falls open, the whiskey in front of him forgotten.

“Are you hearing this, captain?” Soap’s voice crackles through the earpiece.

“Yeah,” he coughs. “I hear it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It’s all quiet on base. Most are down for the night; the only ones awake are on guard at the gates or on routine patrol.

Johnny is freshly showered and ready to go home. All he needs is to check in on you.

With towel hanging loosely on his hips, Johnny discreetly enters the women’s communal showers. He’d never do this, but he knows you’re alone. What he doesn’t expect is to hear your voice. You’re not speaking to yourself—or anyone. The place is completely empty.

You’re…singing.

Actually, singing. And not that weird off-key shit one might do in the shower. This is true singing. Your voice is goddamn gorgeous—angelic.

Johnny stands in silence for a moment, simply listening, allowing the steam from your shower to curl around him just like your voice. His feet begin to move across the floor and then he’s right there in front of the curtain. He yanks it open.

You turn, eyes widening, the song you’re singing becoming a surprised squawk. “Johnny!”

Without looking away, Johnny removes the towel and hangs it up. Stepping inside, he shuts the curtain, trapping you between him and the tile wall.

“You never told me you could sing.”

“You never asked?” you reply, arms covering your breasts.

It’s cute that you’d hide from him like this. He’s seen it all anyway.

Smirking, Johnny places one hand against the wall. Leaning in, he lowers his voice into a gentle coo. “What else are you hiding from me?”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“He’s cute, Johnny.”

Soap beams. Simon has never seen him so happy. “Takes after his mum.”

“Thank fuck for that,” chuckles Simon. “You’re an ugly bloke.” He lightly nudges Johnny’s arm with his elbow. Somehow, the man’s smile widens.

On the sofa, you sit next to Johnny’s wife. She’s transferring their son into your arms. He fusses a bit, tiny fits waving around, face pinched in annoyance.

“Hello,” you coo, your smile so sweet and soft it twists something deep in Simon’s stomach. The infant stretches and makes an irritated gurgle, his face growing red as a tantrum bubbles up. “Oh. None of that now,” you murmur.

There is no panic on your face. Instead of handing him back to his mother, you hold him close, and start to sing. It’s a light melody, a gentle song that even soothes Simon as he listens. The infant hiccups, eyes widening slightly in surprise, and then promptly calms. Those gorgeously blue eyes are focused on your face, completely enthralled.

Simon knows so much about you, but how did he not know this? Johnny’s smile even faulters, his own surprise apparent.

He leans in, whispering in Simon’s direction. “Did you know she could sing like that?”

“No,” replies Simon, his attention locked in on your serenade.

As you continue, the child’s eyelids grow heavy, eventually closing altogether. When your song comes to a close, you glance up at Simon, smiling.

Johnny chuckles, and Simon shoots him a look. “What?”

“Think you’re next.”

Simon frowns. “Next what, Johnny?” That shit-eating grin is back on Soap’s face. “Next what?!”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (can be read gn!reader)

Price reclines against the vinyl, eyes closed, arms crossed, and legs spread. Simon sits off to his left, awake and alert but clearly not wanting to be there. Kyle observes it all from his spot on the L-shaped couch.

You and Soap stand next to the karaoke machine, the two of you whispering and giggling as you sift through all the options. The two of you picked this place—a karaoke lounge full of private rooms for groups of all sizes. Payment is by the hour.

The massive flatscreen television on the wall rolls through different local advertisements as well as what’s on the menu. The prices for a single beverage are fucking outrageous.

“Pick something yet?” grumbles Simon.

Price doesn’t even budge. He might be out cold.

Kyle grins, basking in your joy. This is the first time the team is meeting you in person and not hearing about you secondhand. Soap flips Simon off and you press a hand over your mouth, glancing at Kyle for reassurance.

Soap holds out a microphone to you and you take it, the two of you standing on either side of the couch, and turned toward the television. The screen shifts, and then the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” start playing. The original music video appears, and over it is the opening words.

“You’re fucking joking, mate,” groans Simon, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.

Soap is off-key. It’s honestly some of the worst singing Kyle has ever heard. But you? You’re fucking killing it. Hitting every note, making up for Soap’s terrible tune, and still smiling through it all. Kyle has been with you for several months now, and he had no idea you could sing like this.

You and Johnny start moving around the room, dancing and pointing and having the time of your lives. Kyle can’t help but smile, to enjoy the experience of simply watching you having fun with the people he not only considers his teammates but his friends.

As the song wraps up, Simon pushes off from the couch and snags the microphone right out of Soap’s hands.

“You’re done, Johnny.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[occasionalsnippets]

I like to know more about Damian and Talia's relationship with fd au reader

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

Talia keeps tabs on her beloved so obviously, she's well aware of when Bruce takes in a new Robin. And with that Robin comes an unexpected variable, his blood sister.

You do not catch her eye, not at first. Not until she finds Jason Todd and dunks him in a Lazarus pit. Not until she finds you being Robin while your little brother rests within the walls of Wayne manor. Not until you become the CEO of the failing Drake Industries.

The first thing of note, Jason Todd recognizes you and your brother. The pits are unpredictable in their effects and even she was uncertain of about much Jason Todd would remember after being taken out. Yet he knew of you. The feelings are vague, ambiguous at best but never malevolent. It is enough to curb some of his anger at being replaced.

It gives him enough stability that she introduces him to Damian.

The one thing that is blatantly obvious is that you care deeply for your brother, for Timothy Drake. The two of you are more affectionate than any other pair of siblings she has seen and certainly closer than she is with any of her own siblings.

The best indicator that you are Robin and not your brother is that you play. Not in some childish innocent way but rather sharply and precisely. You dance around the points you want to make but the meaning is clear nevertheless. She has been very careful to conceal Damian's existence from her beloved but he has not escaped your notice. Yet, you haven’t told Bruce. How curious.

Perhaps it is that curiosity that drives her to meet you as yourself and not as Robin. Her father takes an interest in your brother. She takes an interest in you.

Talia finds herself waiting in your office at Drake Industries on a weekday afternoon. There’s a pleasantly soft melody being played on a CD somewhere. When you enter, there is no surprise, only a slightest trace of amusement.

Without the mask, you are still every bit as sharp and cold as her favourite blades. It's a delight to have a conversation with you.

A thought arises. You would make a lovely sibling for her Damian.

She is under no delusion that Damian will settle nicely with Bruce at first but with you there to ease the transition, it just might work out better than anticipated. She may even introduce him sooner than she had originally planned.

You, on the other hand, have no idea why Talia Al Ghul of all people keeps showing up at your office. You guys don't really do much other than gossip (and occasionally, you fight off the assassins she sends) but it's become something of a routine. It's weird. You take it in stride.

As for Damian, there were several things his mother had told him before she left him on his father's doorstep. The first of which was that you were to become his sister.

There is no reason to doubt his mother's words. You spend most nights at the manor, you attend family dinners and you are very involved with the family's night life. In addition, you hold great influence over the household, enough to block his attempts at claiming his rightful role as Robin.

You are endlessly helpful in integrating him into the family. He is... reluctantly grateful for your assistance. The others are uncertain of what to do with him. Grayson and father coddle him. Todd does not remain within the manor often. Cain and Drake are distrustful. You remain steadfast and steady.

He can see why mother is fond of you. You are an acceptable sibling. Strong willed. Successful. Far better than the other riff raff father keeps around.

Eventually he does come around to everyone else, though he remains jealous of Tim who clearly holds your affection and the position of Robin. You tell him that it’s Tim’s decision whether he’ll pass on the title or not so he does end up somewhat playing nice with him.

You remain near the center of his life. He continues to go to you for advice, he hands you his marked tests and preens when you praise him, you allow him into the Batcave and teach him about the comms system, and so on.

And then, he finds out you do not consider yourself to be family. You call yourself Tim’s sister but not his. Damian’s first emotion is anger, then betrayal, then jealousy.

Are you simply dense? Have the others done something to make you believe you are unworthy? If so, it must be rectified. Immediately.

His mother had said that you were to be his sister and Damian Al Ghul-Wayne won’t accept anything less than what he is due.

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 2

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC

CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization

Author's Note: My gorl, @lostintransist, needed more so I'm gonna write more.

"I'm so sorry, sir, but we don't allow full face coverings on the property," the beta female worker - Jenny, according to her name tag - informs Simon.

"I'm not wandering around without a mask of some kind," he grumbles in response. When the woman doesn't back down, but keeps smiling weirdly up at him, he sighs and rolls his shoulders. "Fine," he conceeds.

Without another word, he turns while fishing a black surgical mask from his hoodie pocket. He swaps his balaclava for the surgical mask as quickly as he can then turns back around to face her. Jenny looks ready to protest again when another beta worker - male this time - rests his hand on her shoulder.

"I'll take it from here, Jen. Go check on the omegas in the medical wing. New arrivals," he smiles warmly at her and nods.

Jenny's smile falters for a moment but it returns and she nods then walks off.

"Nice to meet you, mate. I'm Frank. Welcome to Salvation's Whitestable location. What can we do for you?"

After going through the legalities and paperwork, Simon was able to set up an appointment to meet the omegas in the facility. The soonest they were willing to schedule such was the following week. Something about not wanting to "overload the omegas since so many are curious about them and want to take them in."

It made sense on the surface, but it didn't settle quite right with Simon. Nothing he could truly do about it, though, so he signed what was needed and waited until the agreed upon day.

It'd been about a week since we'd had any visitors - which tracks, by my timing, since it seems we only get them about once a week. I find visitors annoying as all hell. They're just alphas sniffing around for a desperate omega anyway. Most of the omegas who leave are likely better off in this hell hole anyway.

At least while omegas here their needs are respected. For the most part.

When we're called out to the yard for "fresh air", I knew it was just visitors. They have us on a strict routine and don't let anyone see us inside. Claim it's too dangerous, too many places to hide and find trouble.

It's a nice day, I guess. Not super cloudy and definitely not raining, sun's out even if it gets tucked behind the clouds once in a while.

Gods, I can already smell the alphas.

My nose wrinkles and I toss an annoyed look towards the gates where the alphas are waiting for entrance. When the gate opens I roll my eyes and look away, focusing on the book in my hands instead.

"Why don't you ever engage with them?" a voice whispers from over my shoulder.

"I'm busy, 1211," I tell the younger omega flatly without looking up.

"But the alphas are here. A few of us might get to find a mate today," she exclaims excitedly before something catches her attention and she darts off.

I sigh softly and close my book. She'll likely leave today, being so close to her heat. It makes her more desirable, even if she's still loopy as hell. I pity her, honestly. This place may be weird, but at least it's known and familiar.

Well... it is for me. I've been here since they opened this facility. If I'm calculating correctly, I've been here for a full year as of today. Most omegas are out in one to two months.

"Any reason why you're camped out under a tree and not... interacting with literally anyone else?"

I jump at the sound of the man's voice and my book falls from my hands. Before I can react and save my book from the ground, a gloved hand shoots out and grabs it.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he says as he walks to stand in front of me.

My book gets turned in his hands and I slowly follow his hands up to his partially covered face. Jesus, how tall is this guy? I'm tall for an omega but this guy might as well be a damn tree! He's even as wide as one.

"Tolkien, huh?" he asks as he hands my book back.

I stay quiet but nod and accept my book. No way in hell he's not one of the alpha visitors - never seen a beta built like this - but I can't smell him.

"Not a talker?"

"Not really," I finally say.

His eyebrows twitch upward for a moment before returning to the neutral expression he's been wearing since he stepped in front of me. Probably wasn't expecting me to be American.

"Me either," he says after a moment. "Probably why I'm here, huh?"

I give him a look of confusion at that.

"I don't socialize much so I'm- nevermind," he sighs. "Mind if I stay here for a bit? There's just too much going on elsewhere right now."

"Isn't that why you're here? To find a high energy, cuddly, and loving omega?" I ask dryly. "I know a few of the girls would be ecstatic to go home with an alpha like you."

"Yeah... maybe. Until they realize what my job is and just how often I'm away from home because of it," he scoffs.

"And what is your job?" My eyes narrow as he speaks.

"I'm military," he says simply. When I don't respond, he sighs. "I'm gone a lot. Many missions require minimum or no communication. There's no rushing home from work or random phone calls."

I glare up at him, considering what he's saying. Then it hits me and I start laughing.

"Oh, man! You're a decent actor, I'll give you that. How much did they pay you? Is this a script they gave you or did you just come up with this on the fly? Bonus points for doing it on the fly, if so. I knew they were itching to get rid of me, but damn-"

"The hell are you on about? I'm not an actor."

The genuine offense in his voice makes my laughter fade.

"You weren't paid to tell the 'stupid omega who can't figure out she's an omega' that you have a lifestyle that she would fit into nicely?" My arms cross over my chest and I give him a look of disbelief.

Rage seems to filter into his eyes for a moment.

"Simon," he says, offering his hand.

My eyes fall to his hand and I hesitantly accept it.

"Nice to meet you, I guess, Simon," I test his name. "I'm known as UK-009-0013 or 13 around here."

And never anything else.

Masterlist | Part 1

Tag list: @lucienofthelakes

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hey, so this might be kind of unusual/weird for an Anakin request (? more like a wish tbh), but I'll toss it in here in case you're interested or find this one fun

a fluffy (mostly) sfw thing about AOTC!Anakin who's gotten somehow teleported in y/n's reality (modern AU) having bonded with y/n over their time trying to figure out a way to get Anakin back safely

basically Anakin giving words of encouragement and appreciation and hugs and kisses to a person who's done so much to try and help him with this completely absurd problem even among the stressors of her own daily life that still goes on in the background

like a cute moment of the two just chilling one evening and him thanking her for everything in the best way he knows

+ canon typical awkward flirting maybe 👉👈 because he is kind of crushing on y/n, isn't he

Whenever you turned your gaze towards your window, all you saw was a soft, dreamy purple, streaked with gold while the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon. You and ANAKIN SKYWALKER were sitting side by side on the couch, in such quietness and calmness that was too often a rare moment in your life ever since he'd stumbled into your reality. On your lap you held your tablet, scrolling through forums and articles with furrowed brows, hoping to find literally anything that could help

"You're too good at this," he said suddenly with voice warm yet low.

your lips curled into the softness smile "Too good at what? Staying up late to doom-scroll weird theories on the internet?"

"No," he shook his head, golden, short curls catching the light. "Too good at... everything. You’ve taken this insane situation and somehow made me feel like I’m not a complete disaster for being here."

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "I don’t think you’re a disaster, Anakin. Well… maybe not a complete disaster, anyway."

He chuckled, grin boyish and bright yet his expression so quickly softened. "I mean it, though," voice quieter now. "You didn’t have to do any of this. You have your own life, your own worries, and you’ve still gone out of your way to help me. You didn’t even freak out that much when I told you I was from… another galaxy, another time.." his thumb nervously digging into his second finger

You shrugged, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I figured if I could survive adulting and terrible coffee, I could survive you."

His lips twitched in amusement, yet his gaze stayed on you, uncharacteristically serious for someone like him "You’ve done more for me than anyone has in a long time. I just... I wanted to say thank you. For all of it."

His flesh hand brushed over yours, fingers curling tentatively around your skin, bringing it closer, to his lap, his long fingers stroking over your knuckles or the palm of your hand in repeat motion

"You don’t have to thank me," your tone soft, eyes gazing straight into his ocean ones then back at your connected hands "I couldn’t just leave you to figure this out alone. And besides…" you hesitated, suddenly shy. "I like having you here. Even if you do steal my phone charger and complain about modern plumbing."

He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes and immediately letting go of your hand to highlight his sudden state even more "You wound me, angel. I only complained once.." when you offered him a sceptically raised brow, he added "all right..twice"

You shook your head, laughing not so loudly. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re amazing," he countered without thought, only causing his ears to flush a faint pink. It looked like he was just caught red-handed, as if he may take it back, yet, he kept going nervously, shyly "I-i mean it. You… you’ve been a lot of things to me, but most of all, yo-u’ve been kind. And I, uh...i won’t forget that."

Before you could reply, he tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist in a hug that was both awkward and heartfelt. His chin rested lightly against the top of your head, and you swore the position wasn't the best, but being snuggled to the Anakin Skywalker, repaid everything.

For a moment, neither of you dared to say anything. Just being wrapped in his young arms, ear right where his heartbeat was settled, gave you a peacefulness you've been missing through these days. And of course, your nose couldn't help but pick up the faint smell of your body wash he had stolen this morning - men..

"Anakin," you murmured after a moment, cheek resting against his chest.

"Yeah?" voice hesitant.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, hand still lightly resting on his chest. "You’re not so bad yourself, you know."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne

[its-all-papaya]

If you need one word landoscar prompts: remote

from october 21.... hope this anon is alive on tumblr somewhere still... anyway. have some landoscar future winter fluff

The cabin is way-the-fuck-out-there, and Lando's not much for rustic vacations, but he trusts Oscar knows him well enough that he's not properly worried about it.

"Pick me up," he demands when they reach the porch.

"What?" Oscar stops messing with the key and turns to look at Lando with the same confused expression he's been using for years.

"You have to carry me," Lando whacks him on the chest. It'd be a pat normally, but he can barely feel body through Oscar's thick winter coat. Needs a bit more oomph like this. "Over the threshold, proper, like."

He lifts an eyebrow at Oscar, squinting in the low dying light of the sunset. They're going to have to start early in the morning if they want to do any sightseeing in the following days, the way that evenings come so early in the winter. Not that it matters; Lando's got everything he particularly wants to see right in front of him.

"Why not you carrying me?" Oscar gets the lock at last and shoulders through the door. Behind him, Lando can see high peaked ceilings, manicured wood, furry throws draped over the back of a tastefully rustic sofa. His grin ticks up in approval, even though he wasn't worried.

"Because you were never even gonna ask," Lando puts his hands on his hips. It still feels a bit weird on his hand, a weight he's not used to catching on the bit of webbed skin between his fingers. He wonders how it might feel under racing gloves. He wonders if anybody wears theirs that way, during races, wonders why he'd never thought to pay attention before it was too late.

Oscar's breath fogs between them. He looks funny all bundled up. His cheeks are impossibly pinker than they were even the evening before, all flush with champagne and sappy shit like eternal fucking love.

"Alright," Oscar drops his backpack just through the door and turns back with his arms out like he's bracing for Lando to jump into them without warning, "c'mere, then."

Lando slides his arm around Oscar's shoulder and yelps when he's swept up and off his feet, even though he'd been expecting it. They're both giggling immediately, caught up in the absurdity and the leftover mood from yesterday too, probably, stuck like the gooey bits of congealed champagne tangled in the back of Lando's hair where Oscar had missed it in the hotel shower. Distracted by other things.

(They'd laughed about it first, how routine it felt to scrub champagne from behind each other's ears, how it could be like any number of nights, any number of hotels, if they didn't think too hard about it.

"McLaren 1-2?" Oscar had joked. When he'd lifted his arm to shove drippy curls back off Lando's forehead, his left hand had glinted in the bathroom lights just like the shine off a trophy after all.)

Oscar doesn't drop him until they're halfway through the living room, dragging bits of snow all along the clean wood floors. He'd used the side of Lando's hip to bump the door shut, at least, so Lando has no qualms about wrapping his arms around Oscar's shoulders to keep him close when Oscar deposits him on his back on the sofa.

"Lemme get your shoes off," Oscar mumbles against his mouth. He's turning his chin every which way to avoid Lando's lips, but he dips his tongue out every time they catch anyway. "Gonna get the fucking sofa wet."

"Bet we are," Lando licks into the shell of Oscar's ear before he finally lets him up.

Oscar's trying to look unimpressed, Lando can tell, shaking his head and everything, but his eyes are all crinkly and fond as he wiggles each of Lando's boots loose in turn.

While he's at it, Lando props himself up on his elbows so he can swivel his head around and take in the place for real. It's cozier from the inside. Looks like something out of an AI Instagram ad trying to scam people out of their money - there's even a proper fireplace across the way from where they're at.

"What d'you think?" Oscar asks from below. His shoulders are drawn up just a little, one of his only anxious tells. He's got the heel of one of Lando's feet still cradled in his palm and he's massaging little circles into the arch like he's forgotten he's even doing it.

Lando swallows. Oscar shuffles forward just enough that he's properly between Lando's legs where they're hooked over the arm of the couch, and Lando thinks, realistically, that they're never going to get the bags out of the car if Oscar keeps batting his eyelashes from that specific position.

"S'nice," Lando grins. He splays his arms out like he's about to make a snow angel in the fur underneath him, "Real remote."

Oscar nods quick, "You said to pick somewhere where we wouldn't have to worry, wouldn't have to..."

He waves his hand vaguely. It's the one with the ring on it.

Lando catches the fingers between his own and uses them as leverage to drag Oscar back in over him, close enough to put his lips back on Oscar's, "It's perfect."

"Good," Oscar lets Lando kiss him this time, long and indulgent and so deep that their lips aren't even really moving at the end. "You deserve perfect," he adds when they've pulled apart to breathe.

"We," Lando nudges his middle finger against Oscar's wedding band where it's still tucked against against the joint, "deserve things however we want this week. S'the point of, like..."

"A honeymoon," Oscar says, so used to smoothing over Lando's gaps at this point that he just assumes that's what it is.

"Yeah," Lando agrees.

After he's kissed Lando just enough to sate him for the time being, Oscar straightens back up with a sigh. He bats at the grabby hands Lando immediately makes, that same crinkly-fond-unimpressed look back on his face, "Someone's got to go get our things. Unless you're planning to get back up?"

Lando drops back against the pillows in answer, "I guess they don't have people for that here."

Oscar snorts, "There's no other people, mate. Not for, like, a kilometer."

Lando swallows hard, knows it makes his throat bob in a way that interests Oscar, and then lifts his chin up to smile wickedly across his body at him - his husband.

"S'pose that means we can fuck against the windows later?"

originally from here if anybody cares hehe haha

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

not proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[georgeplease]

i’n the one who needs to know your headcannons pleaseee, what do you think are the differences between dating fred and george? i love them both and honestly i’m more of a fred girly but george too is something to me. thank uu

a rose for you 🌹

So I have a few off the top of my head, this is just a few of them and I’m so willing to get into more specifics of them or tweak some of these if yall don’t agree.

I think George is a little more reserved than Fred. He’d prefer a night in over a party with his s/o. Not all the time, he does enjoy a good night out every so often, but maybe like three times a month he wants to stay in. He also will avoid being the complete center of attention, usually lets Fred do all the talking, he’s not introverted by any means tho.

Neither of the twins are introverted. But Fred is more extroverted than George. Fred is willing to go up to his crush and ask them out. George can talk to his crush, but he would rather see if it will come naturally than ask outrigh, see if there’s a connection and get to know them.

Fred is so useless with Muggle technology it is actually insane. Give him an iPhone and some AirPods and be entertained. George is a little less helpless, still baffled by it but is willing to understand it more. George puts on an effort if you are muggle born to know your world, while Fred sees magic as a better solution. Still both use magic as a crutch.

HOWEVER, Fred would be so tiktok addicted. Does he understand it? No. Does he spend most of his time scrolling? Yes. Cares deeply about his streaks.

I think Fred is a bit oblivious to things. Doesn’t realize his actions have consequences, so he might say something rude and not realize he shouldn’t have. If something he did or said made you upset he does apologize and tries to do better in the future.

George is careful with his words, he doesn’t accidentally say anything rude. Which can often mean, if he does anything rude he usually meant it.

George is organized chaos, yes his office is a mess but at least he knows where everything is. He has a system and it works for him. But he knows how to tidy things up.

Fred is just messy. Leaves things in random spots, never knows where. He needs AirTags for almost everything but he is stubborn and swears he knows where he put it.

I feel like both the twins are quite independent. They love their mom and dad, but they aren’t a mommas boy or anything like that. They have so many siblings that they kinda just have each other to ask for advice.

BOTH WOULD DATE WEIRD GIRLS/BOYS. Like during their time at hogwarts they were popular, but once they are adults they would love to have a weird partner. Fred would probably really like a more goth/alt/emo partner, like sure put the 7 hour fnaf deep dive on babe. While George would love a whimsigoth crystal partner, like sure let’s get the 4 foot tall amethyst statue.

I think Fred is more open with the type of people he dates, he’s adventurous with who he dates. If he thinks you are hot, he’s gonna wanna try.

I think George is a little more reserved about who he dates. Probably not into party girls, but likes someone who he can relax with.

☃️CHRISTMAS HP HEADCANON PARTY☃️

[enbyfvcker]

[Through the phone]

Wade Wilson x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,4k

Summary/prompt: Logan isn't used to this technology thing, but he lets Wade gift him a phone to make him happy. Turns out he finds rather... enticing ways to use his new phone when Wade's away on a job and he's feeling extra needy.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, sub/dom undertones, soft!dom Wade, masturbation, praise kink, phone sex, Logan likes being talked through it.

Wade liked to drag Logan along with him for shopping like he usually does after receiving from his mercenary jobs. He liked spoiling his little kitty cat and buying him stuff.

Logan would say 'no' at first, but then Wade would insist and insist, and well, he was mostly bored anyway, so he eventually gives in. When it comes to Wade, Logan usually gives in.

They were both in their civvies: Logan wearing denim pants, a wife pleaser, and a flannel. All his clothes were bought by Wade after he moved in. He apparently seemed to know what Logan likes or not.

Wade was wearing a hoodie and with the hood over his head. Logan noticed that the merc still wasn't fully in his comfort zone when he went out in public without his suit because of his appearance. But he seemed to deal better with it - with all the stares - when Logan was there by his side.

Wade was strolling around with the cart filled with things (variating from cleaning products, towels, food, unicorm plushies...) while Logan follows behind him, his hands in his pockets.

Wade comes to a stop when they pass over the eletronics session, looking at all the mobiles on display.

"Hey, peanut?"

"Hm."

"You don't really have a phone, do you? Wanna pick one?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't it inconvenient?"

"Not really... I can't think of a situation where I would need one. And I'm also not really good with... Technology and stuff."

"Oh, okay..." Wade pouts like a hurt child, and Logan rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, what if you miss me one day when I'm out for a job and wanna talk to me? You could also always text Laura to check up on her sometimes." Wade suggests and gives a dramatic sigh. "But well, if you don't want it..."

Logan considers for a moment and grunts lowly as he walks to the phones on display and tries to pick one. Wade watches with sparkling eyes and a grin.

He didn't really know the difference between the damn things. There were so many models, so he just chose a random one and placed it in the cart.

"There."

"Yay! Can't wait to introduce you to the technology world. You might wanna stay away from Ao3, though... there's some pretty nasty stuff in there. I mean, I love 'em, don't get me wrong. But I don't think you'd be pleased with what our fans fantasize about us."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Logan asks with an raised eyebrow. He was used to Wade saying weird shit like that. Honestly, he should just stop trying to understand the guy.

"Nothing, princess! Let's check out, shall we?"

...

It took some teaching from Wade for Logan to understand how to use his new phone. He didn't really use it much, though. But Wade was right. It was nice being able to talk to Laura and hear about how she's doing more often. They would meet and hang out every couple week, but her life seemed pretty busy after she started college. So now they could always call each other to catch up.

Wade was also right about... Well, the other part.

Usually, Logan would come along with Wade to help with any missions, but sometimes Wade would just go alone.

It was dark outside already, and it has been some hours since Wade wasn't home. Times like that, when he’s bored and lonely, he craves a drink more than anything. It was really damn hard trying to stay sober.

He walks to Wade's room and lies on his stomach on the bed, grunting with a soft rumble on his chest.

He missed Wade.

God, he can't believe it.

The apartment was finally silent for once, and he missed Wade's stupid voice.

He feels ridiculous.

Logan sniffs on the pillows, smelling Wade's scent. He smelled like gun powder and strawberry lotion. He feels his cock harden at the scent and he groans with frustration, his cheeks a soft blush and his eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenches as he starts to rut slowly against he matress, feeling completely pathetic.

It wasn't enough.

He takes his phone from his pocket and turns on his back, dialing the third contact from alphabetic order from his list.

He only has 3:

Althea

Laura

Wade

It rings and rings, and Logan almost just cancels the call, but then he hears Wade's voice.

"Hi, peanut. Missing me already? I do, too, honey- Motherfucker! Have some manners, can't you see I'm on the phone!" Wade grunts in pain over the line after apparently taking a couple shots.

"Is this not a good time?" Logan asks with a low voice, his hand moving down his own abdomen.

"No, no, baby girl. I always have time for you." Logan feels his cock twitching at Wade's words, his breathing getting more elaborated. He could hear Wade grunting, probably in the middle of a fight. "Don't worry, as I soon as I wrap this up, I'm coming home to you, kitten."

Logan usually scowl and reprimanded Wade at the pet names he usually uses, but Wade could hear softs gasps over the line so quietly he almost misses it, and if he had any eyebrows, they'd be raised.

"Don't take long." Logan whispers, his voice hoarse as he palms himself over his boxers.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks with a clear grin on his voice, and Logan hears a few shotguns and screams.

"Talking to you." Logan replies bluntly. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan when he slipped his hand under his underwear to touch himself properly. He gives a couple slow strokes, biting his lip strongly enough to draw blood.

"Nothing more?"

"No..."

"Oh, my little honey badger, you're a terrible liar." Wade accuses, making Logan's cheeks flush harder. "Are you that needy, hm? Kitty can't wait for me to get home?"

Wade doesn't receive a response, only desperate whimpers that were clearly escaping through bitten lips. He runs his katana through a couple of criminals and chuckles to himself.

"So cute, princess. You just needed to hear my voice, didn't you? I bet you must be dripping all over my bed right now. Bad boy... Gotta train you to learn and wait for me."

"Wade..." Logan grunts, his hand moving faster at a steady rhythm, his eyed shut tightly as he imagines it is Wade's scarred hands on him. He rubs his thumb over his tip and whines.

"It's okay, baby. I'll let it slide this time. Be a good kitty and make yourself feel good, yes? You sound so pretty."

Logan moans louder at the praise, his cock twitching and leaking pre cum into his fingers. He starts rutting his hips up, fucking his fist at a desperate pace.

"Keep talking..." Logan half begs half commands, making Wade smirk under his mask as he dodges from a chair that hit the wall behind him.

"You know, for someone who's always telling me to shut up, you sure sound quite desperate for it right now. I know you love it, kitten, even if you won't admit it. I know you love hearing me say how good you are for me, how pretty you look when you're all messy and pliant under me, how much of a good fucking boy you are..."

Logan straight up whimpers.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me and make a mess all over yourself, baby?"

"Wannabegood, wannabegood, wannabegood..." Logan babbles between needy moans, and Wade knew he was close.

"I know you do, princess." Wade shots the last one of the criminals and they drop dead to the floor along with the others. "Cum for me."

"Wade, fuck-!" He whines as he spills all over his fist and stomach, his back arching off the bed. He strokes himself through the aftershocks, his moans turning into heavy pants as he catches his breath. He feels a rush of embarrassment as his mind clears off, but then he hears Wade praising him.

"Good kitty. Alright, I'm done here." Wade says as he looks to all the bodies around him. "I'm coming home, darling! I have a boner the size of a lighthouse right now. It's really hard focusing on fighting like this."

Logan chuckles, his breathing still heavy. "Just come home already."

[blissfulrain12]

why do you think Anya told Jimmy she was pregnant when she did?

she clearly knows jimmy might become violent. did she just want to rip the bandaid off, so to speak? did she think he'd be weirded out by the pregnancy and stop abusing her sexually? did she just panic?

this is one facet of the story I'm still scratching my head about. maybe there isn't a clear answer, but you have a ood grip on the characters and their motivations. what do you think?

Anya's hard to pin down but from my understanding of her so far she tells Jimmy because she's trying to regain control of her situation. She's telling Jimmy, in her own way, that he messed up. He can't hide what he did.

Anya and Curly are paralleled, so where Curly is defined by inaction Anya is defined by action. Anya is smart, determined, and a planner. She's a problem solver. When she was denied medical school she found a way to be a nurse anyway. When she met the crew of the Tulpar she started studying psychology. When she noticed her Captain was stressed she reached out. When Jimmy made his psych eval hard to do she told someone. Post crash she basically leads Jimmy around by the nose.

So when it came to her SA she took action. When Anya confronts Jimmy she's made her position as favorable as she can. The most lethal weapon on the ship is under her control and the Captain believes her. So yeah, I can see why she felt she could take back control here. She has evidence (the pregnancy) and Curly will back up her word when/if she goes to authorities so Jimmy better back up.

The thing is Anya is amazing but she's not perfect and sometimes action isn't the right thing to do either. She misjudged the level/type of danger Jimmy was. In the way that Curly failed to see the abuse for what it was while Anya did, Anya failed to see how Jimmy reacts to things while Curly did.

Curly fawns and freezes because Jimmy escalates. Jimmy's the kind of person who matches what's given to him. The type that thinks it's unfair if he doesn't have the last hit even if he hit first. When Curly brings up that Jimmy struggled Jimmy tells him the praise he gets is annoying. When Curly tries to argue back during the birthday scene Jimmy slams his hand on the table. When Swansea kills Daisuke with the axe Jimmy gets the gun.

So Anya wanted Jimmy to back down but he escalated instead. He leaves her sobbing and wanting him gone. I think if she knew this side of him pre crash she would have handled things more like she does post crash: carefully and indirect.

So Anya told Jimmy because she's a proactive problem solver that thought if she had the gun under control and Curly's support she could get Jimmy to back down not realizing he's more likely to escalate instead.

[rathayibacter]

Ok so how does one MAKE a tabletop game because this is something I want to try!! Are there good references out there for non-d20 systems or how to balance mechanics yourself?

oooh, hell yeah! honestly the big thing is to just do it, unlike board and video games the gap between idea and execution in ttrpgs is incredibly narrow, so if youve got an idea just start writing stuff down and see where it starts pulling you, where it feels like something's missing, find what excites you and what you feel isn't working. but that's not very specific, so let's get into it!

first off, read games! read weird games! there's tons of free ttrpgs on itch, lots of people sharing their work here and on other social media, there's 200 word rpgs here and here, and lots of system reference documents written specifically for people looking to hack games. reading other games is a great way to enrich your work whether you're building systems from scratch or working in an existing framework, because every game you read will show you a new way of approaching design problems.

on that note, draw inspiration outside of ttrpgs too! i pull a lot from video, board, and card games in my work, as well as poetry, novels, movies, etc etc etc. im autistic, and ive spent a lot of my life thinking about and dissecting unwritten social rules, so that's another big source of material for me. take your passions, whatever they may be, and put them in your work!

next up, think about the core of your game, sometimes called the minimum viable product. this is whatever the fundamental idea at the heart of your work is, and it's important to keep in mind because it keeps you from spiraling down unnecessary tangents. the core of your game can change, don't get me wrong! in fact, it likely will. what you want to do isn't prevent your work from growing and changing, but have a point of light you can always refer back to and ask "is what im doing important to this game?" you might be surprised by what you find isn't actually as important as you thought at first, and what turns out to be vital to the experience you're going for.

next up, once you start working, don't throw things away. if youre working in a word processor or google docs, it can help to have a section at the bottom of your document that you copy anything youd otherwise delete into. i do the same with my Affinity documents, ill have a few pages i dont export to store all my scraps. i know other folks who keep a dedicated scraps document that they use across projects. whatever works for you! the reason you do this is twofold: it makes it easier to cut things if you know you can always put it back later if you change your mind, and it gives you a lot of raw material that you can pull from in the future. months or years from now, you might find yourself looking to fill a gap in a new design and realize that some cool toy you set aside is exactly what you were looking for.

lastly, i wanna strongly encourage you to practice finishing things. that's often the hardest part for people, cuz we have a lot more experience starting projects than finishing them. here id like to once again direct you to 200 word rpgs, because that strict limit means you wind up with a finished first draft really quickly, and the rest of it is polishing and editing. once you've finished some bite-sized projects, you'll have a better idea of what it entails, what parts you're good at and what parts you struggle with, when to keep working and when to cut yourself off. i find it really helpful to add arbitrary limitations and deadlines on my work because that helps me push myself to finish something when otherwise i'd just keep adding and tweaking, but you'll find what works best for you!

[lvnleah]

— christmas chaos buddies 🎄

a little Boxing Day treat featuring your two little favourites! written with @scribblesofagoonerr 💗 bit of a long one at 4.2k words

“Alright, Munchkin!” Beth said, hoisting you up onto her hip so you could see what was on offer at the canteen. “What would you like for your Christmas dinner?”

You looked at the food in front of you, wrinkling your nose. There were big dishes of turkey, potatoes, sausages, and vegetables that didn’t look anything like the ones you liked at home. 

You pointed at the rolls right away. “Bread please.”

Beth laughed softly, shaking her head. “You can’t just have bread, Roo. How about some turkey? Or potatoes? You eat the ones me and Mamma make at home!”

You glanced at the turkey and scrunched up your nose. It looked weird. “I don’t like it,” you mumbled.

“You haven’t even tried it,” Beth said, but she wasn’t really mad. “Come on, just a little bit.”

Next to you, Buddy was tugging on Leah’s hand, bouncing on her toes as she scanned the food, protesting about eating any of it, “I don’ want to eat it!” she announced, dramatically pointing ahead at the tray of steaming broccoli, “It smells funny!”

“Bubba, you have to try it,” Leah sighed, her voice already tired and definitely not in the mood to argue with a stubborn three-year-old, “I need you to at least try and eat one vegetable on your plate, okay?”

“Nooo!” Buddy whined, crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’ like it! It’ ugly, Mummy!”

“It might look ugly, but I promise you it tastes good,” Leah began to explain, trying to stifle her own amusement, “Why don’t you just try them?”

“I think she might have a point about the broccoli, Le,” Monkey chimed in, appearing the other side of Leah as she stood on her tiptoes and attempted to peer over her shoulder, “It looks proper rank and disgusting. I don’t blame her for not wanting to eat none of it.”

“See, Mummy! Monks’ said I don’ have to eat it!” Buddy exclaimed, adamant on her decision to not eat any of it, “Ou’ don’t even eat it either. Why do I’ have to?”

“You pair are a nightmare together,” Leah muttered to herself, shaking her head as she crouched down to Buddy’s level, “How about we just try and put a little bit on your plate, okay? Try it for Mummy.”

“No, I don’ wan’ it!” Buddy shot back, stomping her foot in protest, “If ‘ou don’t have it then neither do I!” she added, determined on her own opinion on the matter of broccoli.

Beth nudged you forward, “Okay, turkey for you. Maybe a few potatoes too?”

“Just the bread,” you tried again, but it was no use. The turkey and a scoop of mushy potatoes ended up on your plate anyway.

As soon as Leah wrestled some broccoli onto Buddy’s plate, you both made your way to the table. It was big and shiny with decorations, and everyone was already sitting down. You joined Lia, Steph and Monkey. Lia was chatting with Steph, Monkey was looking like she was up to something, and Vic was laughing at something Kyra said from the table beside you. Monkey was in a mood because Leah had banned her from sitting with Kyra as their recent antics had been a bit too much. 

Beth sat you on her lap, your plate in front of you. You poked at the potatoes with your fork. They looked mushy. “I don’t like these,” you whispered.

Beth kissed the top of your head. “Just try a little, Roo.”

Across the table, Buddy was already causing trouble. She was sitting on a chair on her knees, playing with her dinosaurs while Leah tried to get her to eat her dinner. 

“Roar!” Buddy shouted, making her plastic t-rex stomp on the table as it almost landed in her own dinner, “M’ t-rex don’ even wanna eat the smelly trees!”

“Bubba, come on, it’s time to put the dinosaurs away now,” Leah attempted to coax Buddy into eating her own dinner, “You can play with them afterwards, okay?”

Buddy scrunched her nose up in disagreement, “I’ no wan eat them smelly green trees! ‘Ou don’ even eat them yourself!”

Leah’s eyes widened at the sass from her three-year-old, “Buddy!”

Monkey snorted from across the table, “Touche, little Buddy,” she leaned across and high-fived the three-year-old, “Nice one!”

“Don’t encourage her,” Leah shot Monkey a look that could have turned her to stone, however, Monkey just continued to grin in amusement, “Bubba, please just try and eat something. How about the carrots instead?”

“They’ gross as well!” Buddy continued to scrunch her face up in disgust, “I wan’ beige food!”

“Well… She’s definitely your kid, Le,” Beth chimed in, amusedly.

“Unbelievable,” Leah muttered, shaking her head as she practically gave up on the idea of getting Buddy to eat any kind of vegetable at this point.

Meanwhile, you were still sitting on Beth’s lap, poking at your potatoes as if they might come alive. Beth sighed softly, guiding your hand with hers to bring a small forkful to your mouth. “Come on, Roo. Just one bite. I promise it’s not that bad.”

You scrunched up your nose but reluctantly took a nibble. It wasn’t as awful as you thought, but you weren’t about to admit that. “It’s okay,” you said, which for you was practically a five-star review.

Beth beamed, “See? I told you!”

Leah glanced over, noticing your tiny triumph, “Look, Bubba, Roo’s being brave and eating new things. Why don’t you try, and you can be brave as well?”

“Nooo!” Buddy shook her head firmly in disagreement.

“Why don’t you eat the potatoes, little miss? They’re very beige,” Beth attempted to help Leah out as Buddy squinted, looking sceptical at it before proceeding to nod, “There we go, we have some luck!” She joked.

“I’ eat off your plate!” Buddy declared, before prompting to take a spoonful of mashed potato off Leah’s plate, “Mm’ it yummy, Mummy!”

“Well I’m glad you at least like the mashed potato,” Leah chuckled, failing to hide her amusement as she now had no choice but to allow Buddy to eat off her own plate, happy as long as she was eating.

You leaned back against Beth’s chest, deciding you were done with the potatoes. That’s when your eyes wandered to the plate next to you—Steph’s.

You reached out tentatively, but Beth caught your wrist. “Roo,” she whispered, her voice both amused and warning as you tried to steal some peas.

You looked up at her with your best innocent eyes. “Just one?”

“Roo, no,” Beth laughed, “If you want some I’ll go get you some, okay?”

You sighed and leaned against Beth’s chest again as she started talking to Lia who was sitting on the other side of the table. When she wasn’t looking you reached over to Steph’s plate and stole a couple peas.  

“Hey!” Steph suddenly turned, catching you red-handed. “Are you stealing my peas?”

You froze for a second, “Nooo?” you giggled. 

Steph raised an eyebrow, her smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Oh really? Because it sure looks like you’re stealing my peas, little Munchkin.”

“Roo!” Beth gasped dramatically, “Are you being a little pea monster?”

You giggled, shaking your head, “Nooo!”

“You’re a little monster!” Beth said, tickling your sides. You giggled as you squirmed in Beth’s lap, slowly slipping off before you were fully standing. 

“Mummy, I’m bored!” You huffed as you stood beside Beth, “I’m done eating.” 

Beth looked at your half-empty plate and then down at you, her eyebrow raised. “Done already? What about your turkey? Or those potatoes you actually liked a minute ago?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head stubbornly. “I’m done, Mummy.”

“Do you not want any more turkey?”

You scrunched up your nose again and looked back at your plate. “Do I have to?”

Beth leaned down and kissed the top of your head before pulling you back up onto her lap. “Just a couple more bites, Roo. Then you can be officially done, okay?”

You huffed dramatically but picked up your fork, poking at the potatoes one more time. You sat on Beth’s lap and started to munch on some turkey, actually liking it this time. 

It wasn’t all that long before Buddy got bored of eating off Leah’s own plate and decided she was done with sitting on the chair.

“Roar!” Buddy shouted aloud, standing on the chair as she held a dinosaur in each of them before proceeding to make them stomp across the table, “Roaaaar!”

“Buddy, bubba, sit down,” Leah exhaled a sigh and rubbed her temple, “Everyone else around the table is still eating. I’m sure they don’t want to end up with a dinosaur in their dinner, do they?”

“I’ pretending to be a dino’daur, Mummy!” Buddy was eccentric, continuing to make her dinosaurs stomp across the table as one nearly fell directly into a plateful of gravy.

However, as soon as Buddy caught sight that you had nearly finished the last bit of your turkey, she had another bright idea, “Me an’ Roo go see everyone else!”

“Not yet, bubba,” Leah began to say, her tone of voice firm but Buddy had already hopped down from her chair, “Buddy, come back here please.”

“What’s the worst that can happen,” Beth joked with the blonde.

“Be careful,” Leah called over, exhaling a sigh as she went back to eating the remainder of her dinner after Buddy had finished picking at it.

“Just don’t cause too much trouble,” Beth called after you both as you slid down from her lap and immediately followed Buddy. 

“Come on Roo!” Buddy squealed with delight, dragging you toward the next table where Katie, Caitlin and Kyra were seated, “Hi, ‘Ra!”

“Hi, pipsqueak!” Kyra grinned, scooping down to lift the three-year-old onto her lap, “And what’re you two up to?”

“I’ be eatin’ my Mummy’s dinner!” Buddy grinned, proud of herself for eating at least some kind of dinner, before she got restless and proceeded to wriggle over to plonk herself on Katie’s lap, “What ‘ou eating Auntie Katie?”

Katie looked down at her plate, then at Buddy, eyebrows raised. “I’ve got carrots, potatoes, and turkey. Do yer wanna try some?”

Buddy scrunched her nose up, “Nooo! Carrots’ gross! Do ‘ou have chips? Me like them!”

Katie laughed. “Chips? At Christmas dinner? What do yer think this is, a takeaway?”

Buddy crossed her arms over her chest and leant against Katie’s chest dramatically, “It’ be better if there were chips!”

“The green things are smelly!” You added in as you climbed up onto Caitlin’s lap beside Katie. 

Alessia raised an eyebrow, “Green things?”

“The trees!” you explained, your voice filled with mock disgust.

Caitlin laughed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist to keep you from sliding off her lap. “What’s wrong with broccoli? It’s good for you!”

Buddy shook her head fiercely from where she was perched on Katie’s lap, “Nuh-uh. Broccoli look like smelly trees! Mummy said I’ hav’ to try it, but I’ don’ wan it!”

“You should try it. It’s good for yer’ Tiny,” Katie chuckled.

“Nooo way!” Buddy giggled, turning to Katie, “Do ‘ou like smelly trees?”

Katie smirked, “Love ’em. They’re my favorite part of the meal.”

“You’re lying!” you giggled, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Katie.

Caitlin laughed so hard she nearly choked on her drink. “Oh, you’ve got her figured out, Roo. Katie’s not fooling anyone!”

“Ou’ no’ lie Auntie Katie! It’ naughty!” Buddy insisted, peering up to look at Katie, “Ou’ can’ lie or Santa won’ come!”

“Course I do!” Katie said with a wink, though the way she quickly reached for her water to wash it down made you and Buddy burst into laughter.

“Ou’ lying!” Buddy declared, her voice triumphant as she threw her hands in the air.

“Lying’s naughty,” you added, leaning back in Caitlin’s arms with a cheeky grin. 

Kyra smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, they’ve got you there, Katie. Imagine being called out by a three and five-year-old. What’s next, them doing a protest outside the canteen?”

“We do that!” Buddy insisted, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Oh no, no, no,” Caitlin said quickly, pulling you a little closer to keep you from getting any ideas. 

“We do’ it an’ protest again… against da’ smelly trees!” Buddy was already bouncing on Katie’s lap with a plot in mind, “We’ make signs. Monks’ can help! Roo, ‘ou can yell into the loud thing–”

“A ‘egaphone!” you supplied, giggling.

Katie shook her head, trying not to laugh as she put a hand on Buddy’s shoulder to steady her. “Alright, you two, enough of that. I’m not getting in trouble because you started a riot over vegetables.”

“Ugh,” Buddy sighed dramatically, flopping back against Katie, “Come on, Roo. Let’ go an’ find someone’ else!”

You slid off Caitlin's lap, saying your goodbyes as you grabbed Buddy’s hand. The two of you ran around a few tables before you and Buddy scurried over to Amanda and Vic, who were sitting together with Amanda’s baby, Mila, cradled in Amanda’s arms. Mila was tiny, Amanda had only been back for a few weeks but you had been completely obsessed with her. 

“Hi!” Buddy announced her entrance, loud as predicated, “We ‘ere! We see baby?” She asked eagerly.

“Hello, double trouble!” Vic giggled as she helped Buddy climb onto the seat beside her. 

“Baby Mila!” You squealed as you noticed the baby looking at you from Amanda’s lap. 

Buddy continued to look at Mila in Amanda’s arms, “She so small! Why is she’ like that?” She exclaimed, confused.

“She’s only three months old,” Amanda said softly, smiling as she adjusted Mila in her arms as she looked between you and Buddy. “Babies are very little when they’re first born.”

Buddy continued to tilt her head in confusion, “I’ no like that when I little?”

“Oh, you definitely were,” Leah chimed in, crouching beside Buddy as she wrapped her free arm around the three-year-old to keep her steady, “You were once a little tiny baby just like Mila is now, Bubba.”

“Why does she have no teeth?” you asked, pointing at Mila’s gummy smile.

“Babies don’t get teeth until they’re a bit older,” Vic explained, leaning over to tickle Mila’s belly gently. “She’ll get them when she’s ready.”

Buddy’s curiosity got the better of her, trying to reach her hand out as it stopped short of touching Mila’s face, “Can I’ touch her? She won’ bite me, will she?”

“No biting,” Amanda said with a laugh. “You can touch her gently, though. Be very careful, okay?”

“I’ can do that!” Buddy promptly nodded, seriously as her little fingers brushed over Mila’s hand, “She’ so soft! Why don’ she talk?”

“She’s too little to talk right now,” Amanda explained patiently. “But one day, she’ll learn words just like you and Roo.”

“Can she walk?” you asked, your curiosity endless.

“No, Roo,” Vic said, chuckling. “She can’t walk yet either. Babies have to learn how to crawl and then walk when they get bigger.”

“Does she eat smelly trees?” Buddy questioned, wrinkling her nose dramatically.

“Nope,” Amanda said with a laugh. “Mila only drinks milk right now. No smelly broccoli for her.”

“She lucky, cos’ they be’ gross!” Buddy muttered, crossing her arms and looking at Leah pointedly.

“What does she do?” you asked, leaning closer.

Amanda smiled. “She sleeps, eats, and sometimes cries. And she loves cuddles.”

“I’ show her my dino’daurs?” Buddy didn’t hesitate to wait for an answer before eagerly grabbing it and shoving it directly in front of Mila’s face, “I’ show her the t-rex! It’ be loud like me!”

Amanda shook her head gently. “She’s too little to play right now, Buddy.”

“Why no’ play?” Buddy frowned, clearly unimpressed that Mila didn’t do all that much, “She’ borin’ if she no’ do nothin’!”

“She’s just a baby,” Vic teased, nudging Buddy lightly. “You were the same way once.”

Buddy continued to frown at Mila, a small pout plastered on her face, before attempting to try and win Mila over with her beloved dinosaur in her hand, “Look, Mi’a! Roaaaar!” She shouted, her voice loud and excited.

Mila immediately scrunched up her face, her little bottom lip wobbling before a loud wail escaped her.

“Me’ no like how loud she is!” Buddy exclaimed, dropping her dinosaur from her hand and planting her hands directly over her ears, “Mummy! Turn her off, p’ease. Me no’ like it!”

“Bubba,” Leah groaned, scooping Buddy up into her arms before she could attempt to make any more loud noise, “Remember what I said about using our inside voices, hmm? Mila’s very little right now, and we don’t want to scare her now, do we?”

“But I’ just showin’ her my dino’daurs Mummy!” Buddy protested, feigning her innocence, “I’ no get why she no’ like them though!”

“Baby Mila sad?” you said, your eyes wide as you watched Amanda bounce Mila gently to calm her.

Beth came over and crouched beside you, pulling you closer. “Babies are very sensitive. You have to be extra gentle around them, she’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Do you think you can say sorry to Mila for making her cry, Bubba?” Leah coaxed Buddy to apologise to the tiny baby in Amanda’s arms, “I’m sure if it happened to you then you wouldn’t like it either, would you?”

“I’ sorry, Baby Mila,” Buddy pouted, looking genuinely sorry about scaring her.

Amanda smiled softly, rocking Mila in her arms until she settled. “It’s okay, Buddy. She’ll be alright.”

“Right, come on my little dino, how about we give it another attempt to eat some broccoli, hmm?” Leah tried her luck to wrangle Buddy to eat her own dinner, having the advantage of still having her in her arms, “Even dinos’ need to eat their greens, remember?”

“Fine, if I must,” Buddy huffed dramatically, reluctant to eat but having no choice as she’s set back down in her chair, “But if I’ eat them then so do ‘ou as well, Mummy. It only fair. Deal?”

Leah’s own face fell at her three years old’s words, and knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of that one now, “Deal, Bubba,” She agreed, reluctantly eating a forkful of broccoli and trying to not scrunch her face up in disgust at the taste of it in her mouth, “Mm’ this is really nice, I think you’ll definitely like it, bubba!”

“Ou’ no like it either, Mummy!” Buddy barely even ate a bit of it and screwed her own face up in disgust, “It’ no nice, Mummy. ‘Ou no fool no more! It’ yucky and gross! It’ goes in bin!” No more hesitation to climb down from the table, grab her plate in her hand and toddle over to the bin and toss it in.

“Buddy, you barely touched anything on your plate,” Leah chided, shaking her head in disbelief, “Now what are you going to have to eat instead?”

“I’ eat crisps and chocolate!” Buddy declared, promptly while puffing out her chest, “I’ no where there’s secret snacks! Come on Roo, we’ go find Monks’ locker an’ get snacks out!”

“I… I don’t know what she’s even talking about,” Monkey tried to feign her innocence, holding her hands up in mock surrender, while narrowing her eyes to look dead at Buddy, “I thought you and I had a deal, huh? You little snitch.”

“I’ no stitch, I just hungy now!” Buddy insisted, mispronouncing the word and pouting in disagreement as she proceeded to tug on Monkey’s arm, “‘Elp’ us please, Monks’!”

“I want chocolate as well!” Your eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect of sneaking chocolate out of Monkey’s secret stash in her locker. “Can we eat all of it?”

“You little rascals can’t steal all of my chocolate! What will I eat?” Monkey exaggerated a dramatic sigh, “So unbelievable!”

“Nooo! It’s our chocolate!” You said with determination through fits of giggles, “You have to share it with us, Monkey! Tell her Mummy!” You turned to look at Beth to back you up. “Sharing caring!”

“Before you run off and eat any chocolate, you need to finish eating your dinner first, remember?” Beth joked, tickling your sides which earned another fit of laughter. 

“Even the carrots?” You scrunched your face up in disgust, side-eyeing them on the plate.

“Even the carrots,” Beth chuckled, nodding in agreement, “Sooner you eat them then sooner you can run off and find some chocolate from someone!”

“I don’t like it, but fine, I guess I will try,” You dramatically leaned against Beth’s chest as you ate the smallest mouthful of carrot on your fork, “It’s not that bad, but it’s still gross!”

Just then, you heard a familiar voice behind you, and before you could turn around, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Guess what, Roo?” Kyra’s playful voice cut through the chatter, and you turned around to see her grinning at you, looking mischievous 

“What?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I heard there might be some leftover chocolate pudding for dessert,” Kyra said, her grin turning into a wink. “Wanna help me sneak some?”

Your eyes widened. “Chocolate pudding?”

“Uh-huh!” Kyra nodded, then looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You in?”

You looked over at Leah and then at Beth, who were too busy with the rest of the table to notice. With a cheeky grin, you nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

Buddy quickly chimed in. “I’ help! Me like chocolate!”

The two of you ran off with Kyra who helped you get some chocolate cake each which the pair of you ate in the corner, giggling away. Soon enough, you and Beth were on your way home. 

“Hi Mamma!” You grinned and Viv’s face popped up on the screen. You held Beth’s phone in front of you as you sat in your car seat.  

“Hi, lieverd!” Viv’s warm smile lit up the screen as she waved at you. “Did you have fun today with Mummy and everyone?”

“Yeah!” you exclaimed, leaning closer to the phone. “We had carrots. They were gross, but I ate some! And then Kyra gave me chocolate cake!”

“Chocolate cake?” Viv raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Was it good?”

“Uh-huh, so yummy!” you nodded enthusiastically, “But Buddy wanted to steal all of Monkey’s chocolate first. She’s a chocolate monster!”

Beth’s laugh rang through the car as she listened to your conversation with Viv, “How’s Manchester?”

“Quiet, compared to your chaos,” Viv teased, but her expression softened. “I miss you both.”

“I miss you too, Mamma,” you said, your voice softening. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I’ll be home in a few days, Roo,” Viv reassured you. “And when I get there, we’ll do something special, just us three. How does that sound?”

“Can we have pancakes?” you asked, your eyes lighting up.

“Pancakes it is,” Viv promised with a nod.

“Baby Mila is cute, Mamma!” You told Viv, “She loud though, Buddy didn’t like her crying and wanted to turn her off! She’s tiny.”

Viv laughed at that, shaking her head. “Oh, Buddy wanted to turn her off, did she? I can imagine her face saying that. Babies can be loud sometimes, Roo.”

“Yeah but Mila still cute!” You nodded, “She has tiny hands! I held her, Mamma, and she grabbed my finger!” you added excitedly.

“She already loves you,” Viv said warmly. “You’re so gentle with babies, Roo.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a big girl now!” you declared proudly.

Beth smiled, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “That’s right, Roo. You’re so good with little ones.”

“I wish you were here too, Mamma,” you said, your voice softening.

“I know, lieverd,” Viv said, her own tone gentle. “But I’ll be back before you know it. And when I am, we’ll have all the pancakes and chocolate cake you want. Deal?”

“Deal!” you grinned.

“Alright, Roo,” Beth said, taking the phone back gently. “Say bye to Mamma.”

“Bye, Mamma! I love you!” you said, blowing a kiss to the screen.

“I love you too, mijn meisje,” Viv replied, catching your kiss with her hand. “Be good for Mummy, okay? I’ll phone you later.”

“Okay, Mamma!” you grinned, bouncing in your car seat with excitement. 

Beth chuckled, saying her own goodbyes before hanging up the phone and tucking it back into her pocket. She glanced at you, “Ready to go inside, Roo?”

You nodded eagerly, “Yep! And we’re having pancakes when Mamma gets home!”

“That’s right,” Beth said with a smile, “But first, how about we watch a movie before bath time?”

“Yeah!” You nodded as Beth got out of the car to unstrap you, “Only if I can have popcorn though!”

“Deal,” Beth said, opening the car door. “Let’s get inside, then.”

As the two of you walked inside, you chattered away about everything you’d seen and done today, the promise of pancakes and dinosaurs filling your thoughts. Beth smiled as she listened, already looking forward to the next few days when the whole family would be together again.

[auxmodi]

sandor clegane wholesome hc's :)

my masterlist

.───────── ౨ৎ ─────────.

silent bodyguard energy, he’s always positioned himself just slightly between you and the nearest danger, whether that’s a busy crowd, a shady-looking merchant, or someone getting too bold at the tavern. doesn’t say a word about it, but the death glare he gives anyone who looks at you wrong speaks volumes.

someone giving you trouble? sandor’s at your side before you even realize it, towering over them with that infamous scowl. "move along," he growls, and nine times out of ten, they do. the one time they don’t, they learn why he’s called the Hound.

he’s the type to fix your broken stuff without being asked. you’ll mention your belt buckle is loose, and the next day it’s mysteriously good as new. don’t bother asking him about it, though, he’ll just wave it off with a muttered, "didn’t take much."

if he’s insulting you just a little less harshly than usual, congrats, he’s flirting. calls you "idiot" or "fool" with a weird kind of fondness, like you’re the best idiot he’s ever met. but if you ever genuinely get upset, he’ll stop immediately, awkwardly fumbling for words. "didn’t mean it like that."

drunk sandor has no problem standing right behind you, so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. if you turn to look at him, he’ll smirk and say, “thought you might need someone to watch your back,” but you know it’s more than just an excuse to be close.

sandor insists on taking the first watch every time you camp. he says it’s because he can’t trust you not to fall asleep, but really, it’s because he wants to make sure you’re safe while you rest. if you wake up in the middle of the night, you might find him sitting nearby, his eyes scanning the dark, his presence steady.

after a long day, if you’re too tired to keep up, sandor’s the first to slow his pace and stay by your side. he might not offer to carry your things, but he’ll make sure no one bothers you as you catch your breath.

he’s not out here giving you flowers and poetry, but if you’re shivering, you’ll suddenly find his (too big, kind of smelly) cloak draped over your shoulders with zero explanation. if you thank him, he’ll just grunt, "didn’t want to hear your teeth chatterin’ all night."

sometimes, during sparring, sandor gets distracted. his gaze will catch yours, and for a moment, his hand will linger on your hand a little longer than usual. "you’re still holding it wrong, girl," he’ll grumble, but there’s a softness in his voice, a quiet approval that he’ll never outright admit.

the first time you go into battle together, sandor stays close. he doesn’t hover, but he’s there when you need him. if you get too far ahead, he’ll pull you back with a sharp tug on your arm, growling, “stick close.” he’ll never admit it, but he’s terrified of losing you in the chaos.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Care Now and Forever (Starting Now)

Part 2 of Care Now and Forever

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: You faint and Deacon takes care of you. As you wonder how he manages to be exactly where you need him to be, Deacon plans to start forever with you.

Warnings: r faints, depictions of anemia/iron deficiency, brief mention of blood, fluff and comfort galore

Word Count: 1.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Yawning again, you glance at the clock and frown. It’s not even lunchtime, but you’re so fatigued you are having trouble staying upright. You stand to refill your water, then lower your hand back to your seat as you grow dizzy. Since the last time you passed out around Deacon, you’ve been better about ensuring your iron levels stay consistent and you are hydrated, but you’re having an off day.

In the kitchen, you get another glass of water and a snack, hoping it will help you feel better and get you through the rest of the day. You check your phone after receiving a text from Deacon promising homemade dinner when he gets off tonight. Before you can reply, your phone rings with an incoming call.

“Hi, Deacon,” you greet. “I was just texting you.”

“Should I hang up and let you finish?” he jokes.

“I suppose I could just tell you. Dinner sounds great.”

“Good. How are you feeling? You sound tired.”

Deacon has a sixth sense about you and your health, so you’re not surprised he can tell that simply from your voice.

“I am, but other than that, I’m all good. How’s work?”

“Slow. Which… Let me call you back? Hicks is calling us over.”

“Sure. I love you.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies before ending the call.

You return to the couch and sit carefully, sipping your water and eating your snack in measured bites. A metallic, coppery taste invades your senses, and your stomach flips as if you ingested blood. After another drink of water, your phone chimes, but you feel off-balance and don’t reach for it, opting to take deep breaths to remain conscious.

A key slides into the lock on your front door several minutes after your head clears, and you furrow your brows as you stand. Deacon steps inside with a bright smile, and you take several hurried steps forward to greet him with a hug. Just before you reach him, you stop and blink once before your legs buckle.

Deacon watches your eyes as he extends his arms. He catches you without a problem and carries you carefully to the couch. Watching your chest rise and fall, Deacon wonders what happened. You were fine earlier; you sounded tired, a symptom of iron deficiency, but you’ve been eating well, staying hydrated, and keeping him updated, so he’s confused about the sudden fainting.

“Hey, you with me?” Deacon asks, gently tapping your cheek.

You hum and squeeze your eyes closed tighter. “Did I faint?”

“Better question is why did you faint?” he counters. “Have you eaten today?”

“Yeah, I ate and drank water. Right before you got here, I got this weird blood taste in my mouth.”

“I’ll make an appointment with your doctor if you want. For now, what do you need?”

You open your eyes, smile, and look pointedly at Deacon's muscular arm resting beside you. He sighs, still smiling, and moves onto the couch to tug you against his chest. Your water and snacks are still within reach, and you take several bites while your senses return.

“Feeling better yet?” Deacon asks.

“I think you’re the magic cure,” you answer with a nod. “Maybe you should just quit your job and stay with me all of the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier you weren’t feeling great?”

“I thought it would pass, it wasn’t like the last time, just some dizziness and the weird taste.”

“But you’re not actually bleeding?”

“Not that I know of.”

Deacon brushes his hand over your hair and kisses your forehead.

“What do you think happened?”

“Maybe you just missed me so desperately that your body reacted dramatically,” Deacon teases. “Alternatively, you might be slightly anemic or stressed; there are lots of possibilities.”

“You always seem to show up right before something happens,” you muse.

Deacon smiles but doesn’t comment on his ability to be in the right place at the right time when it comes to you. “Do you want me to order dinner?”

“We can cook,” you offer. “I’m feeling much better.”

“Sweetheart,” Deacon sighs. “Don’t jump back into doing too much too fast.”

You nod and grip Deacon’s wrist as you grow dizzy again. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll order the food, you sit here, look pretty, and stay conscious, okay?”

“I can do two of the three, but you have to pick which.”

“Faint and you become a comedian,” Deacon grumbles with faux grumpiness. “Any requests for dinner?”

“You can pick,” you reply. “And, Deacon? Thank you.”

“For?”

“Taking care of me, being here, everything.”

“The care is a given, now and forever, because I love you. I really wish you’d start telling me when you feel off, but I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Your phone buzzes as Deacon makes a call to your favorite restaurant. Unwilling to risk leaning forward, you leave it on the table and watch Deacon. Every little thing he does communicates his care for you, and you’ve known from the beginning that he shows his care in remarkable ways because he loves like you’ve never been loved before.

“Food will be here in thirty minutes,” Deacon says as he returns. “What else do you need?”

“You really want to take care of me?” Deacon smiles because he obviously does, and you ask, “Sit with me?”

Deacon takes the place beside you and welcomes you under his arm. Leaning against his shoulder, you look into Deacon’s eyes and thank him again.

“Will you go to the doctor with me? It’s not fair to either of us that this keeps happening.”

“Anytime,” Deacon assures. “What did you do today?”

“Not much. I got some work done this afternoon but started feeling bad around lunch. You’ll be glad to know I took your advice and rested, drank water, and had some food rather than pushing through.”

“I am glad to know that. However, you keep forgetting the most important advice which is to call me.”

“I think you’re secretly Spider-Man and your senses tingle, so you know to come home anyway.”

Deacon smiles at your phrasing. He doesn’t care that you just compared him to a superhero, but you called your house a collective home, and Deacon thinks the idea of a shared future with you sounds perfect. His promise to care for you forever is just the beginning, and now he wants to start forever with you.