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justkending · 3 years

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Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about."

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

#bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes x reader #justkending series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes modern series #bucky barnes au series #bucky barnes highschool #bucky barnes x highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert #marvel #marvel au #marvel au series #justkending

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

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The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family.

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced. You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder.

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers.

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

#The Long Con #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike fic

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior. unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease. He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project. “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh. Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent. “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time? Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day? I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his. “Me too,” you admitted. “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close! You used to tell me everything. And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue. “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us. And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him. He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you. Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused. “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it. “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most. “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen. “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him. “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education. Not be a fucking slut. Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans? Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me. Is this what you wanted? Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. “How stupid are you? Did you think these would stay private? Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long. How long have you been doing this, huh? Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content. Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you? I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard. You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party. The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time. For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother. It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh? How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit. “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking. I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head. “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis. The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent. You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun. You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it. And chat with strangers online about it. And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer. “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she��s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry. I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account. It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you. Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can. This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious. “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear. “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit? ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.

“Say it, then. Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—”

“No?” he repeated incredulously. “You can’t say no to me, honey. Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought. What are they gonna say to that? Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out? As if. So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then. Fucking. Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts. “I have needs too, sis. Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock. And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh. Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin. When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned. “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.” He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp. “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked? You talk about it all the time. You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off? Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed. “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it? Will you spread your legs for any cock? Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned. Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly. “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss. It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be. But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra. Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours. Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength. When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully. “Wow, you really do like this. Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis. Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.” He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted. Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch. He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how. Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt. You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out. And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation. You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine. Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do. He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim. “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling. “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster. The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened. “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want. Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed. “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this? Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head. “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him. “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck. Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go. And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance. When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent. “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh? Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength. Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one. “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open. He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh? Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over. I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.

“Relax, sis, not today. I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy. Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse. He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance. You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal. The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you? Just from this. You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours. You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby? We were made for each other,” he cooed. “You were made to take this cock. You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch. “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you. Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh. “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms. It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him. As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on. “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused. “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit. You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped. “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before. I watched you do it. I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole. Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you. “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy. Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you. “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you? You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh? Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment. It certainly made your heart swell as if it was. He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him. “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway. Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch. You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you. Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside. He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently. “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby? We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

#sam wilson smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #sam wilson dark fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

erotica, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your roommate, Min Yoongi, catches you masturbating. You catch him masturbating. Well then, dear reader... This should be interesting, shouldn’t it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, f and m-masturbation, cum eating); non-idol!AU; switches between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

Being in the music industry was rough. It meant long nights struggling for inspiration, fervent mania when it did hit, and crippling anxiety when it was being evaluated. But being a music producer was all Min Yoongi ever wanted.

He had given up a lot to chase his dreams, moving to the big city alone, friendless, trying to find his way, living meal by meal. He needed a roommate, but finding a trustworthy one was difficult. Friend of a friend of a friend and he finally found someone who seemed alright. A young woman in the middle of grad school, who was looking for a place to stay. At first Yoongi thought it would be weird to room with a girl, but one conversation and he realized it would be a good match. Her first question was if he was going to have guests over often. Of course not, Yoongi had music to work on. Her second question was if he was clean, because she couldn’t stand a dirty living situation.

In short, he now had a quiet, paying roommate who kept to herself, holed up in her room all day studying or rushing to class.

Yoongi worked for a small entertainment company, but he also had a home studio because he couldn’t afford to rent a space. This was enough for now. He asked if she was fine with a little noise and she responded by holding up her over-the-ear headphones.

But Min Yoongi had a secret.

Nothing that incriminating. Nothing like drugs or a gambling problem or a recurring STD or something like that. It was in innocent secret, a very small one.

Min Yoongi liked to read erotica blogs.

Now, Yoongi could watch porn. He could go through all the hoops and find some to jack off to. That wasn’t why he preferred to read smut stories online. He just liked to use his own imagination. He liked closing his eyes and painting the scene, but he wasn’t creative enough to dream up all the freaky scenarios he could read online. Some people had some… big brain energy. Some wrinkly brains. He was pretty sure all his gray matter was used on music, so why not let someone else craft the story for him? It took the work out the equation and he could get off. Win-win.

Also, it was much easier to hide it in public. All people would see is him scrolling on his phone, the same thing everyone else did.

Yoongi had his favorites he went back to. They were updated often. Every week there was something new. He checked at least once a week, since that was his usual routine his body wanted. And it was fine. No one knew. He could do it whenever he wanted and relatively quickly. So, all in all, not that bad of a secret, really.

It was six in the morning and Yoongi was scrolling on his phone, mildly horny. Oh! One of his favorite blogs had updated late in the night. Nice. He chewed on his lower lip, reading the summary.

There was a knock on his door.

He nearly dropped his phone. The door was locked, thankfully.

“Yoongi-ssi?” He heard his roommate yawn sleepily. “Did you drink the last of the milk?”

He screwed up his face to think. “Maybe? I’ll buy some the next time I’m at the store.”

He heard the sounds of teeth being brushed and a muffled, “Nah, I’ll place a delivery order right now. I need stuff.”

And that was that. He heard her wander off.

Okay, a very, very, very small part of him did kind of want to get caught. Not embarrassingly or shamefully caught. Just… maybe if it ended in something kind of sexy. Like the stories.

That was would fun.

Yoongi went back to his phone.

You cracked your neck in the mirror, yawning again as you brushed your teeth. You rubbed your eyes, inspecting your dark circles. Ugh. Maybe a little concealer today couldn’t hurt.

You had stayed up late again, writing.

You hadn’t meant to. It happened every once in a while, when the scene played out in your head and you needed to write it down immediately. When inspiration struck, you couldn’t let it run away from you. Sometimes the best things come in short bursts of energy.

At least you didn’t have class today. You were caught up on your classes, so you could spend today writing for your blog. What you posted last night was written several days ago. You had a slight backlog so that you could review things multiple times before posting. Even if it was something as meaningless as smut posted on the internet, you took that shit seriously. This was your outlet and you wanted to personally like everything you posted.

If what you wrote didn’t make you horny, it wasn’t going to make anyone else horny either.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your tired eyes looking back to you. Maybe you needed some socialization. Real socialization, not you eventually venturing outside because you needed to get laid for… research purposes. You chuckled. Well, you weren’t going to get that here. All your male roommate ever did was work on his music or eat. Which was alright; people were allowed to do what makes them happy. And besides, it was better that way, because you did actually need to study and eventually write your thesis. Less distraction at home was always better.

You turned off the lights in the bathroom and stepped out.

A strange noise came from Min Yoongi’s door.

You blinked, staring at the door several feet away from you. Then you shrugged. He probably just tripped. He was kind of clumsy sometimes, knocking shit over with his fat ass. Well, not really, but it was funny to think of it that way.

You went back to your room.

Oh fuck.

Yoongi stared at his door, clutching the toilet paper roll he hid in his nightstand. He was usually quite skilled at keeping quiet, but he accidentally moaned a little too loud. His hands were still sticky. He waited.

Her bedroom door down the hall closed and he sighed with relief.

When you got back to your room, you made the online grocery order. You needed pads anyway. Then you checked your blog. At this point, you had some familiar usernames you watched for. People rarely commented. Maybe their hands were busy or something. You could forgive. Besides, there were likes and that was enough. To be honest, you never expected anyone to actually do more than read. It felt kind of nice, knowing someone out there was willing to take one second to press one button to let you know.

It made you grateful, even if it was a small thing.

Your eye paused at one particular username. You only noticed it because it was gendered.

daeguboy0613.

Huh.

For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why someone would put their location and gender in their username. Maybe it was a reference to their favorite singer or something. Probably. You shrugged it off and flopped on your bed.

You fell asleep.

Big surprise since you had posted at four in the morning and only gotten up to brush your teeth because your mouth was too disgusting to exist. Ah well. Sleep was good.

You woke up, super groggy. You stared out the window, seeing that it was already dark. With a sigh, you looked into the tiny mirror beside your bed. Yikes. A master yikes even. You climbed your hair with your fingers and got out of bed, your purple pajamas rumpled and crazy. Maybe a shower would do you good. Or a bath. Oh! That sounded nice.

You looked around for your slippers. You found one. Ack, so annoying. You weren’t a messy person, but when you were preoccupied with something, you forgot everything else. You straightened your room and found the other slipper. It was in your blankets, oof.

You opened your door and realized you forgot clean underwear. You stuck your head out, looking around. Faint bass was coming from Yoongi’s room. He’d be there for a while. Eh. You still had your violet pajamas, with long sleeves and long pants. Fully covered. He wasn’t going to know in the two seconds it would take you to get to your room. A good shake of the fleece fabric and the wrinkles would fall out. You’d look way less crazy after a good bath.

You hummed to yourself as you made your way to the bathroom.

Yoongi rubbed his neck, frowning.

It wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. The sound just wasn’t right. He leaned back in his chair, furrowing his brow. Maybe he needed to move on for now. Leave it and work on something else. He spun around in his chair, lazing about. He hadn’t heard his roommate make much noise all day. Was she dead? Yoongi heard the water running in the bathroom. Oh. She was taking a shower.

He thought about her for a moment. She was generally calm person, quiet and reserved. The only time he had ever seen her panic was when she was late to class, which wasn’t often. Other than that, she was kind of boring. It was like the only thing she thought about was school. She was pretty in a casual sort of way. Yoongi rarely saw her dressed up, but the few times she left at night, she always looked very nice in a short black dress and black heels. Probably a recurring outfit she used at every outing. He could respect that. Being strapped for cash meant a lot of repeating outfits.

Anyway, they didn’t interact much at all. They had their respective things to do, so they co-existed in a mutualistic, symbiotic relationship. It was nice not having to be distracted by a bad roommate, so for that he was grateful.

You pushed back the shower curtain, dripping water.

That was nice. You waited as the bathwater drained. Your hair was wet, kind of by accident, but whatever, you needed to wash your hair anyway. Your brushed water off your body absentmindedly, poking your nipples. They were hard from the cold air.

Hm.

The water gurgled as you rubbed them slowly, sighing softly. That was nice. When was the last time you masturbated? You couldn’t remember. You looked at the bathroom door. It wasn’t locked, but what was Yoongi going to do? Open the door on you? Yeah, right. You pinched and pulled your nipples, sucking in a breath. It was nice to touch yourself, to cup your breasts and press them together, grazing your nails over the hardened nubs, imagining someone else’s hands touching you, wanting you.

You slid against the wall, moaning quietly as you played with your breasts, water beading on your skin. One of your hands slid down between your legs and slid around your folds. The wetness of your pussy was different from water, thicker, more viscous. Your eyes closed as you stroked your clit, slow and gentle and pretty. Imagining a tongue there, licking you softly, giving you just the right amount of pressure to build your arousal. No rushing, letting it last.

You ended up sliding to your knees, spreading your thighs wide to give your hand space. Your other hand played with your nipples leisurely, pinching and pulling, making your heart jump. You were quiet, barely making any noise.

Drip.

Your eyes opened hazily. They shifted slowly to the faucet. It was dripping water. Slow, fat plops hitting the bathtub.

Drip.

You pressed harder on your clit, rubbing roughly.

Drip.

Your eyes shifted to the silver faucet again. It was right there, after all.

Fuck it.

You turned the water on again, setting it to a nice temperature. You waited impatiently, touching the water. It heated up quickly. You bit your lower lip, and then raised the temperature a tad. It torrented down and, for a split second, you thought you weren’t going to do it.

Then you adjusted your hips and planted your ass on bottom of the bathtub and slid down to the water.

Instant, unyielding. You shivered, the blasting water jet-streaming right into your pussy. Holy fuck. You slid down a little more and moaned, hoping the water masked your sound as the high-pressure water smacked your clit, lowering to your elbows to get a better angle. Heart beating fast, legs folded flat against the edge of the tub, leaning your head back, tits straight up. It was a difficult position to keep, but a rewarding one, because the water was getting you off fast, gentle enough that you weren’t in pain but hard enough that you could really feel it radiate all over you, the heat adding to the pleasure.

So close, so close…

You closed your eyes, thighs burning, core tightening as your entire body began to throb. A slow hiss escaped your lips as you felt your orgasm unfurl and hit you, wave after wave of delicious pleasure swimming through you, spreading to every point of your body.

“Are you drowning or wasting water, the fuck is–”

Min Yoongi’s voice was trying to cut through your reverie but it was impossible because you were too far gone now, legs collapsing inward, body falling flat against the tub. The door was open and he was staring at you, eyes so wide they looked like dinner plates. Water flowed over your hot body, blanketing you. Slowly, slowly, you came down, like an addict losing their high. His mouth was slightly open, kitten-like. His white t-shirt stuck to his chest and black track pants far too oversized for his slim legs.

You might have been ashamed if you were younger, but you were older now. If he couldn’t handle you getting off every once in a while, then he was the one who needed help.

You reached up and turned the water off, panting. You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“If you’re so worried about it, I’ll pay the whole water bill this month,” you gasped, chest heaving as you glared back at him.

Yoongi sputtered back to life.

“N-no, that’s fine.”

And then he slammed the door.

You sighed, frowning. Now things were going to get weird.

Holy shit.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

He just witnessed his roommate masturbating with the goddamn water faucet.

Yoongi scrambled into his room and onto his bed, red in the face. He hadn’t meant to. He thought something weird was going on when he heard all the water. And, oh fuck, something was, but not the something he thought. His mind replayed the image for him, her legs spread, her breasts glistening with water, nipples hard and out, head tipped back and mouth open, tongue peeking out.

He was still hard.

His heart was thumping in his ribcage. Yoongi grabbed his phone and flipped through his liked posts. He had to get off. Now. Anything else could wait.

He slid in, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

Impatiently, he reached down and fished his dick out of his pants, sliding to his back and pushing his track pants down. Oh fuck, sweet relief. Yoongi stroked himself, reading, imagining her wet body, her slick hair, those fucking delicious breasts right in front of his face. Had Yoongi ever fantasized about his roommate before? Hell no, he wasn’t a damn pervert. But he was doing it now, because, fuck, how could he not? How could he not want to fuck her, press himself against her, hearing that soft moan against his ear, her wet body and smooth skin on his?

Yoongi dropped his phone, pushing his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Yes, he’d jacked off in the morning, but it was already late and he was so fucking horny it didn’t take very long for him to bite the inside of his cheek, trying to muffle his noise, trying to silence himself as the familiar wind-up came. He cracked his eyes open. His door was slightly ajar. Had he left it like that? Whatever, she was probably too embarrassed to come over here anyway.

Yoongi shut his eyes again, a soft cry leaving his lips as he chased his orgasm.

Then he felt it. A presence to his left. But he was so close, so close, so close, he couldn’t stop. His hand moved at a feverish pace, spreading the pre-cum over his length, adding to the pleasure. He felt lips on his cheek, her soft breathy moans against his skin. Was he imagining it? Then her lips on his, softly licking his tongue, so sensual and sexy that he was losing it, moaning into her mouth. He felt her hot breath glide into his and he groaned, too loud this time, feeling his cock twitch and spurt his cum everywhere, sliding down his hand, his wrist, onto his pants and shirt.

Yoongi panted, opening his eyes.

His roommate moved away from his face. Eyes dark in the low light of his room, pupils blown wide with lust. Her hair was still damp, slicked against her purple pajama shirt. He didn’t know what to do. Hos hand was a mess, covered in his cum. She leaned forward, tongue sliding out.

“Um…”

His thought was cut off as her warm tongue ran over his knuckles, scooping up his cum and eating it off his hand. His eyes went wide as she licked all around his hand, his fingers, dipping her tongue into the crevices. Yoongi could barely process what was happening right now. Was his nerdy, school-obsessed roommate licking his cum off his hand after he just masturbated? After he just witnessed her masturbating? Her mouth enveloped the head and part of his hand and Yoongi moaned, feeling her tongue press against the tip and tease the sensitive opening, licking it all clean.

After a sufficient amount, she removed her mouth and backed off. Yoongi blinked blearily, slowly detaching his hand from his limp cock. He didn’t know what to say. Or do, really. Her eyes were on his phone, screen still lit up. Then she shifted her eyes to his raised hand. Gently, she took him by the wrist and brought his hand to her face, placing his fingers in her mouth, sucking on them.

Yoongi was speechless.

Her tongue slipped between each finger, prodding around his joints, slurping slightly. She was still looking at his phone, eyes pensive. Yoongi wished his cock would wake up, but it wasn’t meant to be.

“I…”

Her eyes went to his, his fingers still in her mouth. Shit. His brain tried to process the thought, trying not to fixate on her pink tongue moving amongst his fingers.

“I can’t fuck you…” he mumbled, swallowing. “I already came twice today.”

She nodded. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, joint by joint. His body jerked at the movement, aroused but unable to get hard. Strings of saliva snapped as she removed her mouth from his hand. She turned it around and licked his palm lightly, making him shiver.

“You like my blog?” she finally said.

He blinked.

“What?”

She pointed to his phone. “That’s my blog.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He stared at his phone and then at her. Then back at the phone. Then back at her. What? She cocked an eyebrow, smiling at him.

“So, you’re daeguboy0613, huh?”

He blinked rapidly. “I… what… ah…?”

“Guess that makes sense when you like my posts at two in the morning and such.”

She climbed on the bed – where were her pajama pants? Her panties? – and laid down next to him.

“You don’t seem like the type to read erotica,” she said absentmindedly. “I thought only girls read erotica.”

Yoongi stared at the ceiling. “Obviously not, since I’m a guy.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t stereotype like that.”

Silence.

“We can always do more in the morning, Yoongi-ssi.”

Two things happened that day. One, Yoongi’s secret was exposed. And two, the source of Yoongi’s secret passed out in bed next to him, head on his shoulder.

34+35

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #yoongi x you

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wh6res · 4 years

Text

taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.

synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.

warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!

since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age.

for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”

until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”

until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”

sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more.

in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else.

taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance.

assurance that he won’t get hurt.

an assurance of faithfulness.

he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!

he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets.

as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky.

but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?

romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that.

he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate.

“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered.

taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump.

focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—

two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.

the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there.

and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil.

except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter.

the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer.

johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it.

no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company.

anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high.

taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired.

yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan.

“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”

or not.

“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine.

“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”

“but—”

the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms.

“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!”

he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away.

when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question.

but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway.

so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?

but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt.

knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?

johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?

so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—

“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”

you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.

ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.

you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.

“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”

johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”

“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…”

he drags a finger across his neck.

“oh.”

pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.

you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people.

its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.

“do you know that you’re—”

“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”

and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?

“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”

this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off.

taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle.

“you’re home early…”

your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”

you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”

the sting of betrayal never grows familiar.

“i never said anything—”

“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”

“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”

but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you.

you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created.

when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing.

“strip.”

“taeil…”

“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”

you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face.

spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places.

“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”

truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them.

“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?”

taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.

he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.

“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time.

as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already.

taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine.

“you want it?”

you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining.

“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements.

you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?

“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”

“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”

hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”

now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort.

“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”

you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—

until he shoves your face down the water.

it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.

it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.

maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you.

taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.

not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore.

#yandere nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #yandere taeil #yandere nct 127 #taeil imagines #taeil scenarios #taeil smut

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preciouspeterbparker · 4 years

Text

i wish i were

inspired by conan gray’s “heather”

warnings: stepsibling incest (not yet but that’s the whole premise), underage masturbation, underage sex, angst. peter’s like 16 and a half, Tony’s almost 18

word count: 2.2k

summary: peter’s in love with his big brother. no biggie. (spoiler alert: it’s a big deal)

(A/N: okay this has been living in my head rent free for over a month. i've written more, but it's not fully fleshed out yet.

i figured i would post this and see if anyone is interested in reading it before i put a bunch more effort in lmao. this is filth. most of the angst comes later lololol (and more filth).

i hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think / if you'd like to read more!

- bloo)

PART ONE

Peter stands at his locker, desperately trying to blend in and remain unseen as he switches out his English textbook for Physics. The school year is basically over, given that it’s the last week of May but he’s still not comfortable in the junior-senior hallway. He’s always been the youngest (and therefore smallest) kid in most of his classes, given that he’s been in the ‘gifted & talented’ track since middle school. (He’s on track to graduate next year, taking his last few mandatory classes and completing an internship for additional credit.) This year, Peter feels even smaller than usual; maybe because most of the seniors are already eighteen, while as a sophomore, he isn’t even seventeen. He doesn’t have many friends this year, because of it. Ned moved away last summer because his dad got a new job, and, well, he’d never really needed more than Ned before.

“Hey Pete-squeak,” comes a voice from behind, making him jump. Rolling his eyes, Peter pivots slightly to face the newcomer. The infestation of butterflies that he's been harboring for the past few months begins to flutter immediately, tickling the walls of his stomach as his cheeks flush lightly.

The voice belongs to a tall (or, well, taller than Peter, anyway), ridiculously handsome boy with dark hair and dark eyes, walking towards Peter with his hands in his pockets. The cheeky smirk on his face is all but permanent, but the small, genuine smile it slips into is something that Peter holds close to his chest, something that is typically reserved for him.

Tony, his older brother, is pretty much Peter's favorite person in the world. Technically, he’s Peter’s step brother. Maria, his mom, and Peter’s dad Richard got married when Peter was a year old and Tony was almost three. They’d essentially spent their whole lives together; neither of them could really remember anything before. They’ve always been close, but that’s changed a little bit this year.

“Hey Tony,” Peter chirps, reaching back into his locker to grab his physics binder. He tries to act natural, even though he feels anything but. His heart’s going a mile a minute inside his rib cage. He feels a little ridiculous, he has for the past few months. Swallowing, he manages to sound relatively calm. “You read the last 2 chapters of Beowulf, right? Mrs. Herrera gave us a pop quiz last period.”

The older teen groans. Closing his eyes, he throws his head back, a metallic thunk sounding as it collides with the locker he’s leaning back on. “Fucking hell. The final paper is due in like four fucking days! Is that not enough?” It’s quiet for a moment as Tony pauses before he opens one eye, cutting it to look at Peter. “What were the answers?”

Peter snorts in response, shutting his locker. “Not happening, T.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time and lets the left side of his body rest against the cool metal. Three minutes til the bell rings, and Mr. Riley’s class is right across the hall. So he’s essentially got three minutes to indulge himself and the fuzzy warmth that’s running through his veins. He loves any time he gets to spend with Tony. “You’re lucky I told you at all, be grateful.”

Tony wrinkles his nose at him. “Rude,” he scoffs in mock offense. “I know you can remember them,” comes his teasing accusation. (And he’s right. Peter can recall the entirety of the quiz, but he’s still not going to enable Tony.) Then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Is that my sweatshirt?” The garment in question is a worn and slightly faded black Led Zeppelin USA 1977 crewneck sweatshirt. Peter’s wearing it over a charcoal and white check button-up. The sweatshirt is one of Tony’s favorite pieces of clothing, he wears it all the time (hence why Peter...borrowed it...without asking).

Having mentally prepared himself to be questioned at some point, Peter’s reply is already on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, it ended up in my laundry and once I put it on it was too cozy to take off. And it looks good with these jeans and the button-up. And my boots. Trying out a new look,” he finishes, smiling as he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Tony often teased him about the thick, clear-but-slightly-pink frames, but Peter hadn’t wanted glasses at all (he doesn’t need any more reasons to be teased, thank you), but he likes these. They make him look cute, more feminine. More like someone Tony could want.

“You’re right,” Tony smiles. One of his hands comes up to playfully ruffle at Peter’s russet hair. “Looks great on you, kid.” There’s warm affection in his voice.

Peter feels his cheeks go hot again, and he wills the flush to go away. He can’t take compliments from Tony, now- they make him ache and preen simultaneously. He knows that Tony doesn’t mean it the way he wants. Peter knows that Tony would never speak to him again if he knew what was really going on inside his little brother’s head. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of stomachs. “Hey,” he starts as he fingers through the papers in his physics binder, attempting to find the problem set that’s due today. “Did you ever catch up on Hell’s Kitchen? I’ve been rewatching episodes trying to wait for you, but you’re taking too long. You saw the episode where Gordon-” Peter’s heart falls to his stomach and he abruptly stops speaking when he looks up to notice that Tony isn’t looking at him anymore, barely seems to be listening.

It falls completely out of his ass when he sees just what, just who, has stolen his attention.

“Sorry, Pete, gotta go,” Tony mutters once he realizes that Peter’s stopped talking, shooting him a hasty smile and shoving off the navy metal. He skirts past Peter, a slight skip in his step as he makes his way down the hallway.

Peter's swallows and clenches his jaw as he watches his brother walk straight to her, the bane of his existence. The reason he and Tony don’t spend as much time together anymore. The object of Tony’s affections. Pepper. She's...everything Peter wishes he could be, honestly. Tall, somehow a perfect mix of skinny & curvy, bright blue eyes, long strawberry-blonde hair. She's perfect. And not only in looks; she's also ridiculously smart. If Tony wasn’t valedictorian, she surely would be. She even volunteers at the local soup kitchen every weekend, and Peter’s pretty sure she reads to dogs at the animal shelter once a month. He hates that Pepper is so nice; he hates that he can't hate her without hating himself for it.

As if he didn't have enough self-loathing already.

***

Peter exits the bathroom that connects his bedroom with Tony’s after gently flicking the lock on his brother’s door to disengage it, the soft ‘snick’ ridiculously loud in the quiet of the house. He’s the only one home; Mom and Dad are at some sort of event for Dad’s law firm, and Tony went to a party at Rhodey’s house. (Tony had insisted that Peter was invited, but he had to know that the younger would never go- why would he want to be surrounded by drunk, horny, belligerent teenagers? The last thing he wanted to see was Tony and- )

There’s a dark gray towel loosely wrapped around his waist, so loose he has to clutch it in his hand to keep it from falling. He closes his own bathroom door behind him and drops the towel, digging through his underwear drawer to pull out a random pair of plaid boxers.

After sliding them on, the brunette takes a deep breath and lays back against the pillows, arms behind his head. He tries to consciously relax his muscles, the tension of the day not having melted away during his shower like he had hoped. Time for Plan B. It’s never let him down before. Peter reaches for his phone and unlocks it before swiping through his apps to open Spotify. The sound of “Dazed and Confused” fills the air through his speakers, and he sets it to repeat on a loop. It’s a little fucked up, the way he’s conditioned himself to respond to this song, but- Peter knows the whole thing is fucked up; he’s fucked up.

Closing his eyes, he does the only thing he’s been capable of for months: he thinks of his older brother.

He’s growing fond of the new facial hair Tony’s trying out; he wonders how it would feel against his skin. Which areas would be the most sensitive to its touch? His thighs? His neck? Peter’s head tilts back and to the side as he imagines wet, warm lips and the scratch of stubble. Just the thought, the phantom sensation, makes a soft mewl leave his mouth. It’s a little ridiculous how easy he can get himself going, when he thinks of Tony’s touch, of his body. Of his love. In his boxers, his cock shifts against his thigh as it begins to fill out.

The sensual, plucky bassline and wailing guitars of the song drag along, and so does Peter’s breathing as he brings a hand up to pinch at one of his nipples. He imagines the way Tony would tease him until he was whining, begging for release. He supposes it wouldn’t be dissimilar to his older brother’s typical manner of playfully taunting him. Maybe Tony would pin him down like he did when they were younger, climb on top of him and hold him there with the muscles he’s gained from boxing in the garage. The opportunities he’s had to see the older teen breathing heavy, shirtless and glistening with sweat, would be forever ingrained in his mind. The mental image sends more blood rushing south and his dick throbs as it quickly reaches full hardness, drawing a gasp from his mouth.

Peter takes himself in hand, studying the details of his cock. He knows he’s not huge, but he’s at least on the larger side of average. It’s flushed a deep, mauve-y pink, and he traces the line of a vein on the side with the tip of his pinkie. A shiver shoots down his spine. He wonders how similar it is to Tony’s. Is he circumcised like Peter is? Is he bigger? Longer, thicker even? Sure, he’s seen him naked before, when they were younger changing or in the bath, but that stopped around the time Tony was seven or eight.

(Tony and Peter had come home from school one day, and Peter’s head had been reeling over what he heard some older girls saying on the bus. He’d decided to ask Tony about it. His big brother knew everything. ...Mom & Dad caught them kissing in their bedroom. That was the end of bathing together, and Tony got his own room, too. Peter never forgot about the way his big brother’s lips felt against his own.)

A bead of precum oozes out of his tip and Peter rubs his thumb over it, smearing the liquid over his cockhead. Robert Plant’s voice moans over the speaker and Peter echoes the sound as he slowly strokes himself with a loose grip, his hole tightening around nothing. Biting his lip, he hesitates before slipping his left pointer finger into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it sloppily. Once it’s wet, he reaches down and gently presses the pad of his finger against the tightly furled muscle between his cheeks. His breath hitches as the sensation; he’s only touched himself down here a couple of times before.

The tip of his finger begins to breach his opening and a whine leaves Peter’s mouth. It stings a bit so he tries to relax, muscles fluttering, making a mental note to grab some lube next time he goes to the drugstore. He wants to be able to stretch himself out more, to imagine Tony’s fingers, Tony’s cock, splitting him open and stuffing him full. Fuck-

Tightening his grip on the base of his cock, Peter grits his teeth and grunts softly as he pulls his finger from his ass. He can’t cum yet- he’s not done. He reaches under his pillow, pulling out the balled-up t-shirt that’s taken up residence there. The black fabric has faded in some spots, and the Black Sabbath logo is cracked and worn; it’s one of Tony’s favorite shirts. Peter brings the soft cloth up to his nose, fumbling with it to find the area with the strongest smell. There are hints of Tony’s Old Spice deodorant mixed with a scent that’s distinctly Tony, a warm, masculine musk that has saliva pooling in Peter’s mouth. Delirious, fucking his hand to the beat, he wishes he had dug a little further in the hamper, pulled out a pair of Tony’s briefs.

That’s the thought that does him in. Peter cums into his fist, gasping his brother’s name, the sound getting muddled in the maelstrom of guitar and drums. Thick ropes of jizz splatter on his stomach and chest, entire abdomen heaving with his breaths.

He wipes the mess up with Tony’s t-shirt before tucking the fabric back under his pillow for safe keeping.

to be continued???

#starker #starkercest #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #bloo writes bad things (tm)

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komfortkiri · 3 years

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HELP WANTED (PART 1)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 1,724 TW/CW: BULLYING MENTION, PARENTAL ABANDONMENT, PANIC ATTACK MENTION (ONCE)

NOTES: I’ll make a banner for this series whenever I get my shit together on Photoshop, lol. I’ve been on a Sero/Kiri thing lately plus this was brewing in my head so I wanted to hurry and type it all down before I forgot it.

“ HELP WANTED! 3RD AND FINAL ROOMMATE FOR A 3 BEDROOM, 2 BATH HOUSE. — MUST BE RESPONSIBLE AND RELIABLE. TEXT THE NUMBER FOR ANY QUESTIONS. NAME IS KIRI. ”

You had been staring at this ad for a couple of days now. Surely they must have found someone by now, right? You were new around the area and being on your own, wasn’t quite what you had imagined. Your parents? Well, your mom up and decided to leave you behind after bringing you home from the hospital and your dad.. He’s always been there but you wanted to prove you could finally be on your own. You were 24 for God’s sake, of course you could do it, but sometimes— you found yourself wondering if you bit off more than you could chew. Living in this big city full of crazy quirks of all kind, including yours, it was pretty overwhelming.

Oh, your quirk? Well, you were part wolf and people could tell that from looking at you, due to your pointed black ears that rested on either side of the top of your head plus a tail that was pretty fluffy and was also black in color.. Can’t forget the fangs that you have, too. Your howl could deafen someone for a brief amount of time, distracting them. You also had the agility which mean you could run— fast.

Growing up wasn’t easy at all. You were often teased about your appearance. Kids would pull your tail, thinking it didn’t hurt you when in reality, it did. You spent majority of your childhood wondering why you had to have such an awful quirk, blaming your father since he was also part wolf. However, as you got older, you became more mature and focused more on yourself. Of course, you apologized to your father, which brought the two of your closer, allowing you to confess the reasoning behind why your child days were so… dark and why you lashed out in such ways.

Your father was a strong man, taking on a few jobs at a time to support you and his self while also keeping the bills paid on time. You admired him for that but you didn’t want to depend on him anymore which led you to where you are right this second— staring at this damned ad, wondering when you’re going to build up some type of courage to text the number. “Oh, for all that is holy, just do it.” You grew tired of being scared so you brought out your phone and texted the number.

TO KIRI: Hey… I was texting about your ad about needing a third roommate and wanted to inquire about it, if you haven’t found anyone yet.

You thought about it again.. What if it was a scam? Oh, you literally brought your palm to your forehead, tapping it a times then halted when your phone buzzed. You looked at the screen, eyes widening in surprise because it was the number from the ad. You had your phone set to where you wouldn’t be able to see previews of your messages unless you unlocked it fully. You braced yourself for a ‘Sorry, we’ve found someone’ or something along those lines. You wouldn’t be surprised since it did take you forever to even act on this whole thing. You swiped left on the message, unlocked your phone, squeezing your eyes shut then took a deep breath. Your right eye slowly opened, eyesight adjusting to the brightness of your screen then falling amongst the words of this Kiri’s response. Your other eye shot open in shock, both your ears perking up.

FROM KIRI: Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Thinking to yourself, were you reliable? Of course, you were. Responsible? Absolutely. You worked at a local animal shelter, coincidentally. You worked more with dogs than cats, though, which came with the territory. Dogs obviously gravitated more to you given your natural wolf scent that only they detected with their sense of smell. Recently, you were moved into a management position so you were paid pretty well, which struck up this whole idea to be on your own, per se. Before you could think any further, did you work tomorrow? No, perfect. You rolled over onto your stomach on your bed, tail moving from side-to-side.

TO KIRI: Of course! That sounds great. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from where I currently stay.. called Camille’s Cafe, not sure if you have heard of it or would prefer something else?

Were you coming off pushy? Demanding? At this point, you didn’t know and you were so nervous that it was driving you crazy but before you could go into panic mode— you got a text back, agreeing on the meeting place and everything. That was… easy.. almost too easy.. Either way, you were thankful they wanted to meet in a public setting in case they really were scammers. That’s when the thought had hit you.. What if they were guys? Kiri didn’t necessarily sound like a guy’s name.. did it? You laughed at your overthinking. No way these were guys.

With that, you looked at the clock on your bedroom wall, it reading 9:30 PM. You decided to go ahead and settle into bed to get enough rest so you didn’t look like a walking zombie when you met your potential roommates for coffee. You plugged in your phone to the charger and laid down, laying awake for an extra hour or so before drifting to sleep.

After a long day of getting phone call after phone call, text after text from different people saying they were interested in their ad, Eijiro and Hanta were close to giving up. Everyone who showed interest had some type of flaw about them, whether it be a bad history of paying rent on time or being an awful roommate in the past. It was becoming annoying, to say the very least. After denying everyone who reached out, Eijiro thought it was best to just block all the numbers to prevent further contact.

“Bro, I’m beginning to lose hope. We probably won’t ever find someone else to move in with us.” Hanta sat down on the couch in the living room with a sigh, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him. “Might as well talk to Kats about ditching that condo he’s in to move in over here with us.” They had thought about that a few times but even the slight mention of a roommate the first time, their friend, Katsuki, was the first to say not to even consider him because he valued his privacy. They didn’t press further because they understood and knew how he was.

Eijiro sat on the other end of the couch, directly across from Hanta, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “You know exactly how that’ll go, Sero. I say the next person that texts us, we invite to coffee and really figure shit out. It’s been days since we posted that ad, and you know that we need the help we can get.” Hanta nodded in agreement then both their eyes shot down to Eijiro’s phone that lit up with a unsaved number, inquiring about the roommate situation. Hanta moved over to the same side as where Eijiro was to sit down once the red head picked up his phone to look at the message.

“Huh, look at that! It’s almost like this person heard you.” Hanta chuckled, looking over the message. “What do you think? Coffee?” Eijiro nodded then sent his first text out in response to the inquirer.

TO (YOU): Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Sero scowled, “8:30 in the morning, dude? You really must be desperate because we sleep till like noon on our days off. That or you’re hoping it’s a girl.” He laughed then got up to circle around the furniture to head to the kitchen. “I mean, it might be a girl… and it might be good for us. Could teach us a few things.” Kirishima didn’t think about what all that last statement could entail but Sero, thankfully, didn’t catch onto it. “I guess so. Did they respond?” Just as soon as he finished asking his question, another text came through.

“How do you feel about Camille’s down the road?” Kirishima looked over to Sero who thought for a minute then shrugged with a nod, “Alright, yeah. I could go for one of her bagels. We haven’t seen the lady in a while so we should pay her a visit.” Camille was an older woman who had a heart of gold and loved both Kirishima and Sero. They always were such gentleman when they came in but they stopped going once the crime rate escalated the past few weeks.

“That’s true. I told the person it sounded great so. Let’s head to bed so we can actually wake up early and look decent instead of a mess.” Kirishima rose from the sofa to head toward his room. Sero called out, “Wouldn’t have to get beauty sleep at all if you didn’t schedule this meeting at the crack ass of dawn.” With that, Kirishima held out his arm behind him, giving Sero the middle finger. “Stop your bitching and go to bed, princess.”

Sero laughed and both settled into bed for the night. While one went to sleep pretty quick, the other laid awake, wondering who this mystery person could be. The thought of whether it was a female or not, really stuck to Eijiro’s mind. He had hoped that if it was, they wouldn’t be scared away by the fact that they’d be living with two guys should they accept the offer at all. Kirishima wanted them to be as comfortable as possible and that’s what he intended on doing and without noticing, he drifted into a deep sleep.

#eijiro kirishima x reader #Kirishima x reader x Sero #mha x reader #Hanta Sero #Eijiro Kirishima #Hanta Sero x Reader

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penaltbox · 4 years

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flights, fate, and football games (4+1) - quinn hughes

*or 4 times you were in the same place and didn’t know it + 1 time you were in the same place on purpose*

if you like it let me know :) reblog it, send me a message, leave your thoughts in the tags. thanks in advance!

word count: ~3k

Same restaurant/Post playoffs

You wave at your two best friends as soon as you enter the restaurant, surprisingly being the one who was late this time. You hit more traffic than you expected, but Pop’s was not to be missed.

The little Ferndale restaurant was one of your favorites and you needed the time to wind down after the crazy week you’d had. You hear a guy’s voice behind you talking to the suddenly excited hostess as you walk past her to get to your table, but never glance back at who it might have been.

“Wow, for once we aren’t the late ones,” Abby smiles, nudging Hannah with her elbow.

“Oh, aren’t you guys funny,” you roll your eyes playfully, but take a seat with them, “it wasn’t my fault though. Traffic was insane on the highway. It’s like everyone forgot how to drive at once.”

“I hit some traffic too, no worries,” Hannah smiles, glancing over your shoulder, “did you somehow miss those super cute boys that came in behind you though? The one was so your type.”

Your eyes widen a little as you turn around to quickly survey the area you’d just come from. There’s no one waiting at the front of the restaurant though, so you turn back with a frown.

“I mean, I heard a guy’s voice as I walked in but I didn’t think to look back at him. Why? Was he really that cute?” You ask, looking around the restaurant to see if you could find who she was talking about.

Abby sighs, “I can’t see where they went either but Hannah and I noticed them as soon as you got here. We should have got you to turn around somehow.”

You shrug, checking over the menu and deciding between a pizza or the bolognese instead, “I guess if I was supposed to have seen him then I would have.”

You would have looked around for him more but the waiter showed up and you were dying to get your hands on a glass of wine to start your weekend off.

...

“Quinn, I swear if you don’t start talking to cute girls when you see them I’ll end your career,” Will points across the table.

Josh holds his hands up and laughs, “guys, come on. We all know Quinn isn’t smooth enough to seal the deal anyways.”

This gets the other two laughing, but Quinn doesn’t find it as humorous. He rolls his eyes and tries to fight off a smile. He opts for focusing his attention extra carefully on the menu rather than fueling the fire that was already started.

“Hey, by the end of summer you never know. Maybe you’ll be able to land a girl. It might take a small miracle, but we’ll help you out if we can,” Will grins, thinking it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Great,” Quinn nods, thinking matchmaker Will sounded like a living nightmare, “I’m sure that would go well.”

He tries to brush it off, but the thought lingers a little longer. He’d find someone one of these days. His mom always told him he shouldn’t rush a good thing. It would happen when it was supposed to.

Your brother’s hockey practice/Early June

“I swear to god, Adam, you need to get moving,” you mumble, watching your brother get beat in yet another drill.

The air inside USA arena was definitely colder than outside and you were wondering how you’d managed to get stuck picking him up that night. He seemed off though so maybe he’d asked your mom if you’d get him. Sometimes he needed to talk, and definitely not to your parents.

The whistle blows loudly and you watch your little brother skate off with his head down. He’d been lucky to make the U17’s but you could tell he was struggling. It made your heart hurt and you knew the drive home would involve the long route that day.

You wait in the lobby, responding to your group chat that had somehow blown up while you watched the end of the practice. You’re in the middle of a message when an oddly familiar voice catches your attention.

You pick up your head and look around just as a group of guys head down the stairs to the locker rooms. You don’t manage to see any of them but something about the voice you’d heard seemed to catch your attention for some reason. Where had you heard that voice before?

Adam comes barreling out of the doors, an annoyed look on his face, “let’s go.”

“Hi to you too, asshole,” you scoff, but the look on his face matches the tone he’d given you. Something was wrong.

You grab your keys and walk out of the arena, glancing over at your only sibling, “Adam, what’s wrong? Wasn’t there another practice after that you wanted to watch or something?”

“No, some alumni guys rented the ice next and pushed the 18’s back an hour,” he mumbles, his hands dug down in his pockets.

You reach over and ruffle his hair, despite the fact he’s well taller than you now, “come on, we’re getting ice cream before we get home. And you can tell me what’s got you so worked up on the way.”

A smile takes over his face finally as he reaches your car, “okay fine. So there’s this girl in my chem class but she’s dating a football player.”

“Ew,” you laugh, playing along with the story, “also if you’re playing like shit because you’re mad that a girl you like is taken then I’m kicking your ass”.

“Hey, it was one bad practice. Just don’t tell dad,” he looks over, “surprised you didn’t want to stay and watch the next practice though. You know it’s the guys who went on to play college and pros and stuff right?”

You almost smack him when you see how smug he looks, but you hold off for once, “the last thing I need is some trouble maker hockey player to deal with. I already have you.”

“Suit yourself. Every girl I know loves Hughes though,” he shrugs.

The name sounds familiar but you don’t think twice about it for some reason. Of course you wanted a boyfriend but you weren’t sure you wanted your younger brother setting that up for you.

…

“Try not to suck tonight, okay?” Jack laughs, shrugging his bag a little higher on his shoulder as he picks on his older brother.

Quinn laughs and shoves him sideways, “try not to get run over. Are you gonna put any weight on this summer, bud?”

“You’re both getting lapped,” Alex interjects, walking between the two and entering the arena first.

Quinn notices you leaning against the wall in the lobby and does a double take. Had he seen you before? Why did you seem so familiar? You had to be waiting for someone if you were there, he knew the 17’s had the ice, so maybe you were younger than he thought.

He shakes off the odd feeling he gets from seeing you and turns to find his brother grinning. Quinn knows he’s been caught staring and he immediately bumps Jack into the wall.

“Don’t even think about it!” He says, hurrying down the stairs as Alex holds the door.

“I’m just saying!” Jack yells after his older brother, “I could go play wingman for you!”

Quinn thinks that sounds like the worst thing ever, if he’s being honest. The last thing he needs is to rely on his brother to set him up. He could see that going wrong in a million different ways.

The airport/pre-4th of July

You sigh, slouching down in your seat a little further as you take a sip of your coffee. You wish your anxiety didn’t have you at the airport almost two hours before takeoff, but here you were.

You watch a few planes take off, ignoring your surroundings for a little while as you wonder where the people might be going and why. You respond to a text from your aunt in Boston, who you were going to visit, and quickly get lost in your thoughts again.

You let your eyes start to wander after a bit and they land on a cute boy a few rows over. He’s sitting with a few other boys around his age and you glance over at their gate. New Hampshire? What was even in New Hampshire?

You watch him for a few more minutes, but shake your head before looking back out the window. You certainly weren’t brave enough to go talk to him and you didn’t want to get caught staring. Something about him seemed so familiar but you brush it off, figuring you were just imagining things.

…

Quinn drops his backpack and sits heavily into the creaky airport chair, arguing with Luke about what they’d do first when they got to the cabin. There was no winning the argument but Luke liked to be a pest and Quinn had learned from being gone so much that sometimes he just needed to let his little brother bug him while he could.

Airports were so boring and he’d luckily stalled enough that his parents didn’t have them all there three hours early for once. Quinn lets Luke “win” the argument finally, agreeing that they’ll go on the boat as soon as they get there.

Quinn’s attention wanders and he looks around the airport, his eyes seeming to focus on the gate heading for Boston. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to squint and see the line of people boarding. He swears he sees a familiar face but he’s not so sure.

There’s no way it was the same person he saw at the arena a few weeks ago, right? He blinks hard and suddenly he’s hit with a water bottle in the chest.

“Dude are you good?” Jack questions him, waving a hand in front of the older boy’s face.

Quinn looks at his brother quickly before checking where you’d been standing, only to find you’d already boarded the plane, “yeah, knock it off. Can’t you leave me alone for like five minutes ever?”

Quinn is mildly annoyed that his brother pulled the stunt when he did and he’d lost sight of you before he could be sure. Maybe you were from Boston and you were headed home. That wouldn’t explain why you were at USA arena unless your brother played there, too.

He turns to Luke then, elbowing the youngest Hughes to get his attention, “do you play with any kids from Boston?”

Ann Arbor/football game/late August

You laugh as you try and keep up with Abby and Hannah, excited for one last year at the school that held your heart. You were convinced you could never leave Ann Arbor and luckily for one more year you didn’t have to.

The weather was perfect that night as the first football game was set to kickoff in no time but the three of you had left a pregame a bit later than you planned for. You’re being rushed through the crowd by Hannah, who has a tight hold on your hand, when Abby suddenly veers off.

“Hold on, I need to say hi to him!” She yells over her shoulder, causing Hannah to stop in her tracks and you to slam into her back.

The two of you stumble a little but fix yourself, standing and watching where Abby had run off to. She moves to a group of guys and your stomach turns a little with worry, hoping she actually knew who these people were.

You’re about to march over when you see the boy. The one from the airport. You shake your head a little, trying to make sure you weren’t imagining what you were seeing, but he really is there. Abby is talking to his friends and he’s got a soft smile that makes you want to know more about him. He’s not as outspoken as his friends and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure what else to do with them.

Hannah catches you staring and laughs, “that’s Quinn by the way. I know you’re looking. Abby met those boys a couple months ago while she did her classes on campus. Can you believe they’re the ones we saw at Pop’s at the beginning of the summer?”

“They’re who?” You ask, your brain speeding through the memories, but all that keeps coming up is Quinn.

Pop’s, the airport, and now here. Was he the guy from the rink too? Was that the voice you’d recognized. There was no way you’d been in all the same places for the last three months and never talked to each other or actually truly met. What kind of fate was playing around with you two?

You glance back over at Quinn only to find him looking at you, too. Your cheeks feel instantly hot and you bite your lip, looking away quickly. You hated that you reacted so quickly to something so simple. Maybe he was looking at Hannah, you tried to reason with yourself. Or maybe he recognized you too.

…

Quinn is shocked when a bouncy little blonde runs up to Josh and says hello to him. She’s happy as can be and Quinn would be lying if he said she wasn’t cute. She quickly introduces herself and motions back at her friends, talking a mile a minute, when Quinn realizes he’d definitely met her earlier that summer.

Her and her friends were going to the game but if the boys wanted to hang out after they’d be having a small party at their place and they were more than welcome to come. Quinn gives Josh a little nod when the taller boy checks with him for plans and Josh smiles at the girl he’d been talking about for weeks now.

Quinn looks around the crowd of maize and blue, looking for the friends she’d mentioned, and his eyes freeze on one in particular. You’re so familiar in that moment and suddenly you’re the prettiest girl he sees there. It was the same feeling as the rink, the airport, and now here in Ann Arbor. What were the chances that he’d ran into you this many times but never talked to you?

He sees you and your friend watching in their direction and he catches your eye. You blush and bite your lip, making him smile right away. That had to be the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time. He forgets that Abby has mentioned her friends and he’s about to walk over and talk to you when Josh grabs his arm.

“Come on, we have to go this way to get to the field,” Josh says, nodding in the opposite direction of the girls.

Quinn is about to argue, but sighs instead, “yeah, okay. Did you say we’re seeing them again later?”

+1 Your friends set you up/late August/post football game

“You wouldn’t stop staring at him. Don’t even try and lie about it now!” Hannah accuses, pointing her finger at you.

You feel like you’re dying of embarrassment and Abby can’t stand up straight because of how hard she’s laughing over the situation. You were being bullied by your best friends and none of you could contain your laughter over it all. There were more than a few people watching the scene as you made your way around the field, trying to find which section your tickets were for.

“Stop, I don’t even know him!” You say, though it’s only a partial lie.

Abby snorts a little and carefully wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye, “holy shit, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Yeah, Quinn is awkward as hell but I think you two would be amazing so you’re definitely meeting him tonight.”

She’s quick to pull out her phone and text Josh, already making a plan with him to get you and Quinn cornered in the same area. You can’t fight her on this. Once Abby set her mind to something it was going to happen so you were just along for the ride at this point.

The football game goes by too fast considering it was the last first game of the season you’d ever get as an undergrad, but the three of you are in such good moods that you hardly have time to be sad about it.

You leave the game a few minutes early to try and beat some of the crowds as you head back for the house you all shared. You almost forget the boys are coming over as you head to the kitchen and grab a drink. You figured you had a little while before they’d show anyways.

Popping the top of your can, you take a big drink and sigh. You hear Abby’s little giggle behind you and you whip around confused. You’re suddenly face to face with Quinn and you immediately blush in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi,” you stutter, giving him a little smile even though you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Hi,” he says, and you know immediately that he was the one you’d almost run into so many times that summer.

His smile is just as nervous as yours and you get why Abby had called him awkward before. He fidgets with his hands as he stands in front of you but it’s endearing somehow. He’s not overly cocky or trying to impress you somehow and yet you’re completely on board with getting to know him.

He’s a stranger, technically, but he feels so familiar that you laugh a little. Quinn’s eyebrows furrow over the noise but he doesn’t actually ask.

“Sorry, it’s just… did you want a drink or something?” you offer, trying to keep yourself from getting giddy over having him in front of you after all the months of fate making sure you dodged each other.

His smile gets bigger then and he seems to relax, “yeah, that sounds good. Maybe I could steal you too and get to know you? If you want anyways.”

You nod, not hiding your smile anymore, “I think I’d really like that. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

#quinn hughes #my writing #mine #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes

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littledrummeraussie · 4 years

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At Christmas All The Roads Lead Home | part 4

Christmas morning finds Ashton and Y/N reminiscing about their very first holiday together – with both of their flights cancelled the strangers make the hasty decision to rent a room until they can leave for their own destinations. The pair soon finds out that there’s much more than they’ve bargained for when there’s only one bed in their hotel room. story masterlist. | masterlist. word count: 5843 words tags/warnings: past: departures and reunions. mistletoe kisses. another second of angst. feelings are coming out. bashful flirting and teasing. obviously there is only one bed. & present: dad!Ashton. fem!mom!reader. married fluff with kids and a dog. Christmas morning cuteness. tooth rotting fluff. nostalgia. smut. oral sex (male and female both receiving). dirty talk. sex without protection (they are married obviously). blink-and-you’ll-miss-it breeding kink. talks about pregnancy. Forever thankful for @mymindwide for being my everything while I worked out this story. Thanks for anyone who stuck with me until the very end, even if I sucked big time with posting the last chapter. You are the real champions! All my love for you! Feedback is appreciated and welcomed if you feel like dropping a line or two.

“Stop staring at my ass,” Ashton groaned as he crouched in front of the fireplace, your giggles making him blush. “It’s hard enough to focus like this.”

“I’ve thought you were hard enough,” you teased him, wrapping your arms around his back and hooking your chin over his shoulder. “And I like staring at your ass, just sayin’…”

“Do you have permission to do that?” he quirked an eyebrow at you as he looked back, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“I do have a marriage certificate tucked away with your signature on it,” you tapped your lips with a finger, grinning. “Sure that counts.”

“You’re a minx,” he pressed a kiss on your cheek, pulling your arms over his shoulders as he stood up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him. “Guess the fire is ready. What now?”

“You wanted some couch make outs if I remember correctly,” you nipped at the shell of his ear, making Ashton groan again. “And maybe I could take care of that problem for you too…”

“Hope this time we’re not getting interrupted,” he put you down on the couch until he could sit down as well, pulling you back into his lap, lips already pressed against yours. “I just really need some proper quality time with you, especially on our anniversary.”

��We’re way too familiar with interruptions by now,” you giggled against his cheek, peppering it with tiny kisses until you could kiss him, palms cupping his jaw. “So how do you feel about an early-Christmas-present-slash-anniversary-gift?”

*****

The airport was once again bustling with people carrying bags and suitcases, ushering small children to empty seats or counters to start their check-ins, awaiting in-laws and friends at gates when a plane touched down. Your fingers were nervously tapping against a table, the coffee shop you’ve visited on the night of first meeting Ashton now packed with people buying food and drinks before their departures. You took one last look at the alert on your phone, the details of your flight making you chew on your lips – you really didn’t want to go home. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Not without Ashton.

The morning found the two of you tangled together in your sheets, bodies and lips pressed close, lazily making out while your hands roamed the other’s skin, tugging away blankets to feel more. You could still hear Ashton’s moans in your ear as you followed a path down on his chest, his fingers running through your hair as you licked the V-shape of his hips, ready to properly wake him up. But then both of your phones started going off, messages and emails popping up on the screens about the airport opening and your flights being scheduled to leave that day. The moment was gone as you only had a few more hours together, and as much as you wanted to finish what you’ve started you needed to pack your bags and check out of your hotel room if you both wanted to catch your respective flights back home.

A cup of coffee was set in front of you followed by a sandwich, then you felt Ashton reaching for your hand and tangling your fingers together, stopping your nervous tapping. He pressed a long kiss on your cheek which finally made you smile, but he didn’t stop, only when his light nuzzling made you giggle.

“That’s what I like to hear,” his thumb brushed against the back of your hand, smiling back at you. “I know this is not breakfast in bed, but it’s still breakfast together.”

“It’s perfect,” you let your head rest against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”

“I really wish we could do more, but this wasn’t how I imagined today will go,” his cheek rested on the top of your head, and you hummed in agreement.

“What did you have in mind?” your voice was flirty mixed with a good amount of teasing, and Ashton chuckled, his own voice turning low against your ear.

“Do you really have to ask?”

You quietly talked as you ate your sandwiches, taking bites of the other’s just to hear them giggle, your legs tangled together under the table. Your own flight was leaving an hour or two before Ashton’s, and the time to board the plane was drawing closer by the minute – something you’ve tried to forget just to spend a little more time with him. It felt like Ashton was thinking the same as he asked for ‘just 5 more minutes’ with you at least three times before you really needed to go and check in.

He pulled you against his chest, face buried in your hair as he mumbled encouraging words in your ear, trying to convince you (and probably himself as well) that the next 10 days will be over in a blink of an eye and that you will be able to see each other back in Los Angeles in no time. You wrapped your arms around his middle, melting against him and trying to memorize the feeling – how solid and warm he was, how he always smelled like sunshine, how much he felt like home. His fingers played with the scarf around your neck, pulling on it until he could see the hickey he left on your skin the previous night, then adjusting it against so no one else would see it; it was only for his eyes to see, only for his lips to kiss. How much you’ve wished he would kiss you there again.

“It’s only 10 days,” he whispered again, foreheads knocked together, both of you lost in your little world that was the other. “Just 10 days and we will see each other again.”

“Funny how I went all these years without you, and now 10 more days feels like forever,” you tugged on the lapels of his jacket, a blush colouring your cheeks. “Ash…?”

“Yeah?” he gave a squeeze to your hips, letting you know that he was listening.

You wanted to tell him how going home didn’t feel like that anymore – how the idea of home changed in the last few days: it wasn’t a place, but more like a person. To you Ashton was home now.

“Did you charge your phone?” you asked instead with a smile, feeling like your thoughts would be too much too soon.

“I did, yeah,” he chuckled, his cheeks turning red too. “Why? Are you scared some other pretty girl will offer me her charger while I wait for my flight to take off?”

“No!” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just making sure you don’t have another meltdown.”

“How thoughtful,” he rolled his eyes with a smile, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek. “And anyway, you are my pretty girl. No one else.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you let your nose nuzzle against his as he nudged his closer to yours. “I think it’s time for me to go…”

“Wait a second!”

Ashton pulled back from you, reaching into his pocket and slowly fishing out a small bouquet of mistletoe. A cheeky smile played at the corner of his mouth as he lifted it above your head, making the both of you laugh.

“Where’d you get it from?” your eyes travelled between the mistletoe and his face, and he gave you a shrug, still grinning.

“Stole it from Starbucks. I missed my first chance and I couldn’t let you leave without making up for it and actually kissing you under the mistletoe.”

“Well then, hurry up, Irwin,” you cupped his face in your hands. “Before someone else takes that chance.”

“Can’t let that happen,” he curled his other arm around you, finally pressing his lips against your lips.

The kiss was sweet but hard, taking your breath away, and you would have given anything to stay in that moment with Ashton, everything else be forgotten around you. His eyelashes tickled your skin, noses nuzzled close, lips moving against each other like they were created for this reason only. Ashton pecked your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips again, fingers cradling your jaw as he was looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“I’ll see you in 10 days, beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with emotions, something you were so familiar with by now.

“Text me when you arrive?”

“Only if you do the same,” he squeezed your elbow as you pulled away, tucking his hands in his pocket. “Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Ash. See you at home.”

*****

“Fuck, you’re such a tease,” Ashton threw his head back, fingers digging into your ass as you licked another line up his throat, sucking on his earlobe.

“Oh, but you like it, don’t you?” you giggled while grinding against his hard cock, and Ashton let out another moan, now trying to stop your moving hips.

“It’s gonna be over way too soon if you keep this up,” he pulled your lips back onto his, nipping on the bottom one. “And I much prefer going all the way.”

“Think you’re ready for that blowjob, hot stuff?” you slipped your hand between your bodies, palming his cock through his boxers.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N,” he wiggled under you to get comfortable but also to push more against your touch. “Please, baby?”

You pressed one more kiss onto his pouty lips before slipping off his lap and kneeling between his legs, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Pushing his shirt out of the way you nuzzled against his stomach, kissing the soft skin just above the band of his boxers, making his fingers twitch next to his body, wanting to touch you too. You let your fingers curl into the fabric of his shorts, tugging them down on his legs, his hard cock slapping against his stomach the moment it got free from its confines.

“Beautiful,” you sent him a wink before leaning forward and licking the underside of his cock, closing your lips around the tip to lightly suck on it.

Ashton ran his fingers through his hair as he watched you slowly working your way down on his shaft, taking more and more of his length into your mouth, your eyes locked on each other. You bobbed your head up and down, lazily sucking his dick, letting the tip rest against your bottom lip or your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He stroked your cheek as he mumbled his praises, making you moan around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine.

“Fuck, babe, fuck,” he pushed his hips up and you relaxed a little, letting him fuck into your mouth. “Can I? Please?”

His fingers brushed through your hair and you nuzzled against his palm, letting him guide your movements as you picked up the pace, licking and sucking him until you heard his breath hitching, pulling back from his dick. Ashton whined lowly, eyes hooded as he looked at you through his lashes, and you wrapped your fingers around his cock, slowly pumping it as you licked the precum off the tip, giving him a cheeky smile.

“How do you enjoy your present, naughty boy?” you giggled, gently sucking on the tip again.

“Wish it was Christmas every day,” he groaned, thumbing over your bottom lip and you pressed a kiss on the pad of his finger. “God, I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too,” you sat back on your heels, lightly stroking your palms up and down on his thighs.

Ashton reached for your hands, tangling your fingers together for a moment and squeezing them before leaning forward, curling his arms around you and tugging you back into his lap, kissing you deeply. You moaned into his mouth, playing with the soft curls between your fingers as he pulled you more and more against himself. He cupped your jaw, pecking your lips and nose, eyes dark and full of lust, and you felt your heart thumping against your chest.

“I know it technically wasn’t Christmas anymore when you’ve first done this, but God, do I love Christmas blowjobs from my hot mama,” he grinned at you, and you giggled too, knocking your foreheads together.

“It was more like a ‘welcome home!’ blowjob, but I needed to make up for that first failed attempt.”

“You waiting for me at the airport was Christmas all over again,” he pressed a series of kisses against your knuckles, finishing with a long one on your ring. “And now to give you your present, sweetie.”

*****

The following days were spent in a flurry of text messages and phone calls scheduled for the strangest times of the day, speaking in hushed voices as you’ve tried not waking your families, stifling giggles in pillows or against sweaters whenever you couldn’t hide your laughs anymore. Ashton made sure to send you a picture with Indie every day, always attaching it to a little message that let you know that he was counting back the days until he will travel back to LA. Your own pictures usually included some kind of Christmas treat, wishing you could share it with him once again. His pouty selfies ended up being the best part of your days.

With January finally came the day of his arrival as well, a fact that suddenly made you nervous. He sent you a message about when his plane will take off, and how he only needs to count back a few more hours to be in the same place as you. You’ve spent the better half of your morning opening and closing your browser, your curiosity finally winning and making you check the exact details of Ashton’s flight, already knowing that you will wait for him there. You felt silly for being so worried – after all, it was Ashton. Your Ashton. The man who’s been sending you little videos of his adventures back in Sydney, who called you even just for a few minutes to wish you sweet dreams, who wished he could dance with you whenever he heard the song you’ve played in your hotel room at Christmas.

But still, you were a little unsure. You’ve only known each other for a short time, and there was a chance that those feelings you’ve had for him were only part of the Christmas magic, that once you meet each other back in your real lives it will disappear, and that reality will be much uglier. They say every miracle lasts for 3 days – who knows, maybe your 3 days was already up, gone with the flight you took back to LA.

Wrapping your arms around yourself you bounced on your toes, waiting for the gate to open and reveal the mass of people who arrived from Sydney, Ashton included. You’ve arrived an hour earlier, not being able to stay at home and count back the minutes anymore – you just wanted to see him again, to know if whatever this was between the two of you was real or just a casual fling that will go on for a few more weeks before you both move onto other people and forget about each other. Even if that was the case, you still have the memories for the rest of your life.

Then the gate opened and people started to flood into the airport, going for the cabs outside or to friends and family members waiting for them. You felt your breath catch in your throat when you saw the familiar leather jacket, the wide shoulders and the messy curly hair, his head down as he tried to be one of the crowd, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. You weren’t sure if he would see you, so instead you quickly dialled his number, hoping he would pick it up. Ashton reached for his pocket a moment later, his posture changing when he looked at the phone and suddenly his voice was in your ear.

“Y/N?”

“Look up,” you whispered, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“What are you talking about?” he furrowed his eyebrows, gaze quickly sweeping through the airport until it landed on you.

You gave him a tentative little wave, lips forming a silent ‘hello’ as you looked at each other. A smile spread across Ashton’s face as he picked up his bag again, taking three long strides and stopping in front of you, eyes sparkling like stars.

“What are you doing here?” he reached for you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, and you felt a blush colour your cheeks. “I’ve thought I won’t be able to see you until tomorrow.”

“I– couldn’t wait anymore,” you stared at your shoes, the toes of his boots slowly touching yours as he stepped closer. “I’m sorry; I’m too forward, I just…”

“Hey,” you felt his palm cup your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him, a soft, sweet smile on his face. “I missed you too.”

And suddenly all your worries were gone; Ashton dropped his bag to pull you into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin as he held you close, lips pressing kisses all over your hair. Your fingers tangled into the back of his jacket, holding onto him as you were finally reunited – you never wanted to lose this sense of home again, the way Ashton made you feel in that moment.

“I’ve brought you something,” you mumbled against his shoulder, and he hummed in return, still not letting you go.

“More than your wonderful self?” his lips brushed against your forehead, tilting your chin up to look at him. “What did you bring me, beautiful?”

You slowly pulled out a paper bag, the logo on it already giving away its content, but Ashton still reached inside and took out a chocolate chip cookie, the treat making him smile.

“You remembered,” he chuckled, and you nodded, lightly bouncing on your toes.

“I know it’s not Christmas anymore, or well, yet, but you’ve told me you’re gonna share a cookie with me once we’re both back in LA. And now that you’re back home…”

“Speaking of home…” Ashton tangled your fingers together, lightly swinging your hands as he bit his bottom lip, eyes searching you. “Would you like to… would you like to come home with me? Truth is that I’m just really, really tired, but I don’t think I can wait anymore. I just want to be with you again.”

“I mean, if you really want me to,” you squeezed his fingers, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “I would love to go home with you.”

“But there’s one thing…” Ashton stepped closer, curling his arms around your waist and you mirrored him, giving him a curious look. “There’s only one bed.”

“It’s okay,” you let out a giggle, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “I can take the couch if you prefer the bed.”

“The hell you will,” he suddenly picked you up and you laughed holding onto his shoulders. “We’ve got really good at sharing, and the bed is huge. Plenty of space for pretty girls like you.”

“Do you sleep on the same side as you did in London?” you let your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, knocking your forehead against his, making Ashton smile and press his lips against yours in a short kiss.

“Sure there are sides anymore, beautiful?”

*****

“That tickles!”

“Oh, but you like it, don’t you?” Ashton gave you a toothy grin, quickly licking over your nipple.

You giggled as he nuzzled his scruffy cheek against the soft skin of your breast again, closing his teeth around your other nipple to gently bite it. Somehow you both ended up on the fluffy carpet in front of the fireplace, clothes thrown over the couch as Ashton hovered above you, kissing his way down on your body. You tugged on his curls, making him moan against your skin and smear sloppy kisses wherever he could reach you, every little touch making you even more aroused.

“Did you put that mistletoe above us so you could do this?” you giggled again as you caught sight of the little bouquet hanging above the two of you, and Ashton stifled his chuckle against your skin.

“I might have planned this, yeah,” he pressed a kiss on your belly button before looking up at you. “Can’t say no to Christmas traditions, right?”

“Traditions need to be followed, especially when they include a mistletoe,” you hummed in agreement, letting out a needy sigh as Ashton made his way lower, lips pressing kisses on your inner thighs. “Fuck, Ash, I need you.”

“I’ve got you, babe,” he pressed his nose against your mound, tongue slowly licking between your wet folds. “Best fucking Christmas present I get to share with you.”

“Too much talk and not enough licking,” you bit your lip as he swirled his tongue around your clit. “Mmhh, right there.”

Ashton chuckled again before spreading your pussy lips and going back to eating you out, your fingers tangling back into his hair to keep him between your legs. He lapped at your juices, sucking your sensitive clit between his lips and making your thighs shake as he teased all the spots he knew would make you shiver. You needed to put a hand over your mouth as he slipped two fingers into you, fingertips rubbing at your sweet spot while he still licked and sucked you.

“Wanna cum, baby?” he pressed a soft kiss on your clit before licking over it again, and you shook your head, reaching for his free hand until he interlocked your fingers.

“Wanna cum with you,” you squeezed his hand, giving him a pleading look. “Come back up and make love to me?”

“That’s all I want, beautiful,” Ashton pushed himself back up, sealing his lips with yours.

He knocked his forehead against yours, hands curled around your hips as you both found a comfortable position, then he swiped the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your wetness on it before slowly pushing in. You cupped his jaw, rubbing his scruffy cheeks with your thumbs as you took him, your moans hidden in the other’s neck until he bottomed out. Ashton pressed kisses on your neck and behind your ear, softly whispering as he slowly pulled out just to push back in with a little more force, and your eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

“Still so goddamn hot,” he bit your bottom lip, sucking it gently as his hips picked up the pace, his cock stretching you and dragging against all the spots that made you clench even more around him. “Beautiful and sweet and the best mama, and still the hottest woman in town. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

“Must have been your own charm, hot daddy,” you held onto his biceps, fingers digging into his skin. “Always fucking me so good. But I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck, Y/N, please,” he growled in your ear, pulling out quickly.

He rolled onto his back, already pulling you up over him, and you let your pussy lips rub against his cock as you leaned down to kiss him, making Ashton whine into your mouth at the sensation. Your fingers trailed down his sides, tickling him lightly before reaching for his cock, tapping the head against your clit a few times before sinking down on him, already circling your hips as you adjusted around him. Ashton’s hands found their place back on your ass, holding onto you as you rocked back and forth on his dick, his lips parted and eyes dark as he watched you.

“That’s it baby, ride me, just like that,” his hands slid up to your breasts, cupping them in his palms and tweaking your nipples. “Show me how good your pussy takes my cock.”

“Keep doing that, Ash,” you moaned at his words, his dirty talk always being a weakness of yours.

“Oh, you want that?” he suddenly sat up, quickly adjusting you in his lap as he fucked up into you, making you hold onto his shoulders tightly, lips closing around your earlobe as he hotly whispered against your skin. “Want me to tell you how much I love it when your hot little pussy clenches around me? How I love it when you soak my dick when you finally cum on it. How much I love filling you up with my cum, making you my hot mama again and again. God, I would love to have another baby with you.”

“Ashton, please, please,” you weren’t sure what you were really asking for, but it seemed like he knew exactly what to give you.

His hips snapped into you quickly, one arm curled around your back to hold you close to his chest, his fingers slipping between your legs to thumb your clit. Your forehead knocked against his, eyes staring at each other as you felt your orgasm finally reach you, and he stifled your moans and whines with his kisses, hungrily swallowing them. Fingers brushed through his curls as you kissed him back, fisting them as you still worked your hips against his, sensitive but so satisfied with your pleasure. Ashton’s breath was hitching against your skin, his own hips stuttering as he still fucked into you. You squeezed around his cock a few times, making him groan and finally let go, thrusting into you as he came deep inside you.

Ashton cupped your face in his palms, kissing you long and soft as you melted against each other, wanting to feel the other’s warm skin and kiss-swollen lips, tugging on curls and rubbing against sensitive patches of skin, drawing out quiet moans and shivers. He pressed a kiss against your temple before slowly lying back down on the carpet, pulling you with him and wrapping you in his arms, both of you panting after your shared pleasure.

“I don’t wanna move,” Ashton groaned lightly, fingers combing through your hair.

“Me neither,” you pressed a kiss onto his collarbone, his throat, his lips. “But I also don’t want to get caught by curious little munchkins when they wake up.”

“Alright, alright, I hear you,” Ashton chuckled, pulling you in for another kiss. “Let’s get cleaned up and back to bed before they find it empty and we get busted for being Santa.”

*****

You ended up stopping to get some takeout before going back to Ashton’s, sitting at the kitchen counter as you shared your dinner, not even pretending anymore that the other eating your food is bothering you. Ashton rested his cheek on the top of your head, arm wrapped around your waist as you both got lost in the feeling of the other being there again, something you’ve got so used to during your time in London.

Half an hour later he was showered, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top as he crawled into his bed, already pulling you against him from your place where you were perched at the end of the mattress. He didn’t need to ask you twice to stay with him during the next few days, so you just changed into one of the shirts he gave to you before waiting for him to come back. Light was still filtering through the curtains, but Ashton was ready to drop any minute, tired from the long flight and the excitements of the day. He nuzzled against his pillow, arms curling around your waist as he pulled you to his chest, spooning you from behind. You let your fingers tangle together, snuggling back to him, both of you content in your shared little blanket cocoon.

“I missed you from my bed,” he mumbled against your ear, brushing away the stray curls to lightly kiss it. “I just– missed you.”

“Missed you too, Ash,” you turned back a little to kiss the tip of his nose, making him giggle silently. “I finally feel like I’m home again.”

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at you through his lashes, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “The last few days made me realize that I feel most at home when I’m with you – let it be a crowded airport in London or a shared bed in LA. The place doesn’t matter; you are home to me.”

“When I came back to LA… it didn’t feel like coming home. Not with leaving you behind,” you finally confessed, and a small smile pulled at Ashton’s lips. “Even then you have felt like home.”

“Guess we both actually made it home for Christmas,” Ashton let out a happy sigh as he wrapped you even more tightly to himself, kissing the top of your head and getting ready to finally catch up on some much needed sleep. “One way or the other.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you closed your eyes resting against Ashton’s chest, and he squeezed your shoulder one more time.

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

“Welcome home, Ash.”

*****

“They are still sleeping,” you stepped into the bedroom where Ashton was already snuggled up in bed, his arms open and waiting for you to crawl between them.

You gave yourselves a minute or two before picking up your discarded clothes and taking a quick shower, not wanting to ruin the mystery and surprise of Christmas for your sons. On your way to your room you’ve checked on the kids and Bailey, all three of them lightly snoring and dreaming. You felt so much love for them that you felt like your heart’s going to burst, and you needed to take a few deep breaths if you didn’t want to start crying.

Ashton wrapped his arms around you, tugging the blanket over your shoulders and kissing your lips as he let you get comfortable against him. It was almost 6 in the morning, and you both planned on taking a quick nap before your two little firecrackers woke up, demanding your attention.

“That’s not gonna last too long,” Ashton chuckled, fingers brushing through your hair.

“They are your sons,” you gave him a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes, tapping your nose.

“They are your sons too,” he reminded you which made you giggle. “Those pouts? They definitely come from you and not me.”

“Might have something to do with them,” you shrugged, caressing Ashton’s side as he did the same to you. “But you love the pout.”

“I fell in love with that pout. Could never say no to it,” he rubbed his nose against yours, pecking your lips. “Y/N?”

“Yes, love?”

“What I’ve said while we were having sex… I meant it,” Ashton cupped your jaw, knocking his forehead against yours. “I would love to have another baby with you. That is, if you want that too.”

“I actually couldn’t stop thinking about it since then,” you felt your cheeks heat up, voice turning into a whisper. “I would love to try for one more. I feel like– I feel like I’m ready to have another one. They would complete our little family.”

“Another little baby Irwin wreaking havoc around here,” Ashton giggled while pressing his lips on yours, and you lightly moaned, melting against him. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“I would like to think you’ve already done your part today,” you squeezed his hips, giving him a flirty smile. “That doesn’t mean we can’t try again later tonight…”

“God, babe, I love you,” he quietly groaned, smearing kisses on your lips and cheek.

“Love you too, baby daddy,” you bit your lip, ready to tug him close for another quick make out session.

But before you could grab Ashton’s shirt you’ve heard a thump down from the hallway, soon turning into a pair of footsteps coming closer and closer to your bedroom, the sound of paws on the hardwood floor quickly following. You shared a look with each other, a smile pulling at both of your lips.

“Mommy?” you’ve heard Tyler’s sleepy voice from the doorway and you sat up, already opening your arms for him.

“Hey baby, come here,” you motioned for him and Tyler quickly crossed the room to the bed, letting you pick him up and pull him into your lap. “Good morning, munchkin. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mommy,” he snuggled up to you, pressing a tiny kiss on your cheek while hugging his plush dog. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“And to you, Tyler,” Ashton leaned over to kiss his chubby cheek, nuzzling against his warm skin for a second. “How about I bring Henry over too and after that we could see if Santa stopped by last night? See if you were good boys and got some presents, huh?”

Tyler nodded against your chest and Ashton winked at him, slipping off the bed to look for your younger son. Bailey has already found his place in front of the door, knowing all too well that he shouldn’t cross the threshold into the bedroom. A minute later Ashton came back with a half-asleep Henry curled against his chest, his tiny fists holding onto his shirt as he rested his head on his dad’s shoulder. You saw that he was ready to say something, but then he caught sight of Tyler who was already back to sleep, snuggled against your side. Ashton settled down, holding onto Henry as he found his place back under the blankets, kissing his blond little head before caressing Tyler’s cheek who was resting between the two of you.

“And I ended up with a bed full of my boys,” you smiled up at Ashton as he mirrored you, fingers lightly running through your hair. “How lucky am I.”

“We are the lucky ones to have you as our mama,” he beamed, adjusting Henry in his arms as he too fell back to sleep. “That I have you as my friend and lover and my wife. The mom of our little Irwins. And our future baby Irwin.”

“Stop making me emotional,” you mumbled, quickly rubbing your eyes to hide your tears, and Ashton leaned forward carefully, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“I love you. Thank you for being my home, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, all of you,” you rubbed your thumb against his palm, tanging your fingers together, your rings lightly knocking against each other as you held hands.

Henry shuffled a little in his sleep as he snuggled against Ashton again, and Tyler let out tiny sleepy sounds too while holding onto his stuffed dog plush. You felt your eyes slowly closing too, ready to take that quick nap you’ve planned before the guys took over your bed.

“It’s okay, go to sleep,” Ashton’s voice was a whisper, soft and warm and full of love.

“Really love you, Ash,” you mumbled, a smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, baby,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for not letting me.”

------------------------------------------------

» part 1 » part 2 » part 3 » part 4

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton @spicycal @wontlastimokwiththat @luckyduckydoo @sunshineeashton @2fangirl4u @talkfastdrummer @pastelbabygirl19 @istantommoandtpwk @perfectlieirwin @thesweetness-irwin-archive @c-a-l-m-hood @youngblood199456 @tiannaxox2 @caffeinecalum @fanficsandotherthings @melanindarling

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin smut #dad!ashton #afic: at christmas all the roads lead home #series: at christmas #fiction time

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chim-chimchii · 4 years

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Highway to Heaven (Yuta)

Genre: Fluff and Sauce! (It’s like eating something really spicy while being buried in a soft blanket)

Word Count: 1,920

Note: I'm finally getting around to posting this. This Yuta drabble has been a WIP since summer, I believe? I want to thank Ashley for initially giving me this idea and for making the banner. Feedback is always appreciated!

Set The Mood: Highway to Heaven by NCT127 (You can pick which version to listen to)

It was the day before spring break, and all your friends had decided to rent a van and drive to meet up with the others at a popular camping ground. Your bags were packed and stacked by the door for easy grabbing. You had just put the last bag down when your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.

"Bad news, Champ." Mark's voice sounded from the other end.

Without having him explain further, you already knew what he was going to say.

"The trip's canceled?" You tried not to sound too disappointed, but you were. The excitement was fading with each second that passed.

"Well, not technically. Everyone here had last minute things come up. Everyone, except you and Yuta."

You leaned against the wall and chewed on your bottom lip. Just hearing Mark say his name brought butterflies to your stomach.

"I only agreed to go because I wanted us all to be together. Plus, it's safer when there are more people." You clenched your phone a little tighter, silently praying that Mark would cancel his other plans to come along.

"It would just be you and Yuta until you get to the campgrounds. What could possibly happen on the drive there?" Before you could tell him of the possible outcomes that you came up with, he spoke again.

"Yuta really wants to go still, and I know you do too." You could imagine him smirking on the other line knowing that he was hinting at your crush on Yuta.

"Mark, I don't know." You were still trying to decide. The thought of you and Yuta being alone in a van for a couple of hours brought a blush to your cheeks.

"C'mon, Y/n." Mark was practically begging you to go even though he wasn't coming along.

"Okay, okay. Mark, you have to promise me that if you guys get the chance, you'll come and join us."

"I promise! You're going to have fun tomorrow!" . . . . . . You leaned against the van and watched as Mark and Yuta made small talk while loading your bags into the back. Yuta threw his head back and laughed at something Mark had said; undoubtedly, it was something weird and idiotic, but it made you chuckle too.

You were thankful for the dark sunglasses, for they hid the fact that you had been staring and admiring Yuta from where you were. As quickly as you could, you adverted your gaze when they both made their way over.

"You sure you're not forgetting anything?" Yuta asked, he leaned his shoulder against the van and looked at you with a lopsided grin.

"I'm sure. I checked again before meeting you guys here."

Yuta nodded and stood upright.

"Good girl." He winked.

You immediately looked at Mark to see if he had heard Yuta, but, thankfully, his attention was on his phone.

"Well, Mark, I guess we'll see you next weekend."

Mark slipped his phone into his pocket. "Have a safe trip, and let me know when you both get there."

Yuta and Mark did a little handshake you didn't understand before Yuta rounded the van to enter the driver's side.

"I really wish you were coming with." You gave him a sad smile.

"Everything happens for a reason. Y/n, try to have fun." Mark wiggled his eyebrows before opening the passenger door for you. You eyed him suspiciously.

"You coming or what?" The engine roared, which made you break eye contact. Once seated and buckled in, Mark closed the door and waved.

"Have fun!"

Yuta honked twice, and the van lurched forward.

"It kind of sucks that the rest of them couldn't come." He quickly looked at you before returning his gaze to the road.

"Hopefully, they'll be able to join us later."

"Well, we'll have fun even if it's just the two of us, right?"

A blush rose to your cheeks.

"Even if it's just the two of us." You agreed.

"That's right." He mumbled pleased with your answer.

. . . . . . .

The music faded as Yuta turned it down. "Can I ask you a question?"

You turned your attention to him and nodded for him to go on.

"Why were you so hesitant on coming when you found out everyone else canceled?"

The question shouldn't have shocked you, but it did, and you were sure Yuta could tell that you were nervous. He was still waiting for an answer, and when you decided to be an adult about your feelings, the van began to sputter. You didn't know whether to be relieved that you wouldn't have to confess or be worried because the van was breaking down.

Yuta steered the vehicle off to the side of the road before putting it into park.

"Well, this can't be good." He opened the driver-side door and made his way to the hood. Once the hood was popped open, smoke billowed out. You followed his example and exited the vehicle.

"Should I try calling someone?" Your phone was already unlocked, and Mark's contact was showing on the screen.

Yuta nibbled on the bottom of his lip as he cautiously checked the oil and other fluids in search of the problem. "If you have service, try calling someone."

You pressed down on the small phone icon and listened to your phone as it rang and rang and went straight to voicemail.

"Of course, you wouldn't answer." You muttered under your breath as the monotone voice explained how to leave a voicemail.

It beeped, indicating for you to leave your message. "Remember when I said something could happen? Yeah, well, the van broke down. Please call me back as soon as you can."

As soon as you hung up, you threw your head back and gazed at the sky in annoyance. What good was a best friend if they never answered your phone calls?

The second person in your recents was Taeil. You expected him not to answer as the phone kept ringing, but on the fourth ring, he finally answered.

"Y/n, what's up?"

"I'm so glad you answered. Taeil, the van broke down, and we don't know what's wrong."

There was shuffling from his end. "Did you call Mark?"

You nodded as if he could see you. "Yeah, but he didn't answer."

Taeil tsked. "Sounds about right. I'll go find him, and hopefully, we can rescue you and Yuta."

"Thank you so much! I owe you big time." The tension in your shoulders began to relax.

"You're welcome. I don't know how long it will take to get there, but we'll try to hurry."

You said a quick goodbye and rounded to the front of the van to tell Yuta the excellent news. The hood had been closed, and he was now leaning against it, his arms folded over his chest. You couldn't tell if he was agitated or just thinking; you decided whichever one it was, you would cheer him up.

"Mark didn't answer, but Taeil did. He's going to find Mark, and they'll be on their way to get us." Copying his pose, you managed a smile and watched as the sun changed from a sunflower yellow to a strawberry sky.

"I'm sorry your spring break is starting so horribly." Yuta let out a disappointed puff of air. Whether he was disappointed in himself or the trip, you honestly didn't know.

"If could be stranded with someone worse, like Mark." You nudged his shoulder playfully with yours. He glanced down at you and let out a light chuckle.

"Can you help me up?" You placed your palms flat on the hood behind you to help push yourself to sit. Yuta moved quickly; his hands were gripping your hips as he lifted you.

Once you sat comfortably atop the van, you smiled. "At least the sunset is pretty, and the weather is nice."

Yuta nodded in agreement but stayed quiet. You could tell the situation was still bothering him. To distract him from the current predicament, you decided it was now or never; it was time to discuss the topic of your feelings and why you were so hesitant to come on this trip.

"Yuta."

You waited for him to look at you before continuing.

"I'm not one for taking a whole lot of risks, and when things don't go as they were planned, I tend to be hesitant--"

He nodded and listened.

"--So when Mark told me everyone backed out, I panicked."

You adverted your eyes away from him. "I was also too nervous about being alone with you because I like you. It's easy to hide my feelings when there are other people around."

You stared down at your fidgeting fingers after confessing the feelings you held dear to your heart. The fear began to set in when Yuta didn't say anything right away. Was he thinking of ways to turn you down? You didn't have time to think of another horrible scenario because he finally spoke.

"You have feelings for me?" His voice was low and almost timid, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

You took this moment to sneak a peek at him. To your surprise, he was biting his bottom lip to hide that he was smiling like a child.

"Mark always told me that someone liked me, but I just thought it was just talking out of his ass."

The two of you shared a small laugh, and finally, your eyes connected with his. He was smiling not only with his mouth but with his eyes too; your heart did a small dance at the sight of him.

"I'm glad Mark wasn't talking about some random person. I'm glad he was talking about you." He turned his body, so he was now facing you, his arms resting on your lap as he leaned forward.

Yuta took your hands and held them carefully. "You make me nervous."

You let out a gentle laugh. Moments ago, he was smug and flirty; now, he was acting shy.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

Yuta blinked at you, deciding whether or not he should answer. You took that moment to slip your hands from his grasp to cup his face, and without thinking about it further, you brought your lips to his. His hands snaked to the underside of your thighs and pulled you close to him.

In the seconds that your lips connected, the kiss took an intense turn. You had never experienced anything like this, and honestly, you were so happy it was Yuta you were sharing it with. His hold on your thighs was firm, you were sure there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow, and that wasn't a bad thing.

Yuta pulled back for a breath of air, his lips red and swollen from the deep kiss. No doubt, yours looked the same. He chuckled anxiously and bit down on his bottom lip. "I'm sorry if that got a little too intense."

Your hands found their way to his cheeks again. You couldn't help but give him another kiss.

"It was the best kiss I've ever had." You admitted.

"For not being a risk-taker, that kiss was very risky." He said with a wink.

You threw your head back, thoroughly shocked at how quick Yuta could switch from being shy to being coy, which Yuta took as an invitation. He started at your collarbone and peppered kisses up to your jaw.

"I'm so glad it's you." He mumbled with a final kiss on your lips.

#nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 yuta #yuta drabbles #yuta fluff #yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta #nct x reader #nct 2020

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honeylikewords · 3 years

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jack daniels ship questions!

(Remember that ship questions prompt list I posted a while back? Here are all of those prompts, filled out for Jack and his wife! Hope you guys enjoy! Content Warnings: Not much to speak of, but some mentions of conceptual peril, Jack’s latent PSTD-linked behaviors, pregnancy. Word count is 6.8k. )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

There are plenty of good options for this, but I prefer to imagine that Jack and his future wife met at work; the New York Statesman office is a functioning business, after all, and would therefore hold many people in its employ. Though Jack may be deployed to the field every now and then, he’s actually used surprisingly sparingly, and spends a great deal of his time actually working at the New York headquarters at a very real job as a chairman of the board for the company. His future wife worked on the same floor of the building in marketing, and the two of them crossed paths often, both in corporate meetings and just out and about in the halls of the building.

What was their first impression of each other?

Jack immediately was drawn to her after hearing her speak up during a meeting; she’d been sent in as one of the marketing presenters and had a wonderful breadth of ideas for the company, and he was charmed by her warm presence, intelligent voice, and sweet manner. His first impression was deeply positive, and he spent the rest of the meeting eyeing her curiously, his tanned cheeks flushed with pleasure at being able to watch her shift her files around and toy with her hair as she listened to other speakers and nodded along: she was very, very pretty in exactly his kind of way, and he liked that very, very much.

Her first impression of him was, contrastingly, rather fearful; she knew him only as “Mister Daniels”, and had only heard of him through memos and word of mouth around the office. When she was called in to speak to some of the board members, she was petrified with anxiety at the idea of slipping up in front of such important people and, in fact, barely noticed Jack the first time they shared a boardroom: she was so nervous about getting everything right and speaking clearly and conveying the correct information that he sort of blurred with all the other execs and suits. That said, she did notice him watching her throughout the meeting, and any time their eyes met (and he often smiled at her when they did), she became acutely aware of just how handsome he was; his features striking, his mannerisms coolly lackadaisical, his posture wide and relaxed, his deep brown eyes smoldering under a firm brow as he flashed her a sharp smile. No wonder his name flew around the office so much.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nobody really knew, frankly: Jack has no family to speak of, and not that many friends, either. For someone so charming and socially adept, Jack is surprisingly something of a loner, and tells very few people anything about himself, much less about his feelings or attachments. Literally nobody knew that he was developing feelings for her, much less was intent on pursuing those feelings and manifesting them into a relationship, and he liked the privacy of that.

Likewise, she didn’t mention her growing infatuation with him to anyone, particularly because it would be so embarrassing: if word got out around the office that she was making eyes at a higher-up, it’d seem deeply unprofessional. Besides, she wasn’t really close friends with anyone at the office and they didn’t need to know, especially when she believed that her feelings couldn’t possibly be returned.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Jack. He may not seem like the type, but when he falls in love, it hits him like a train: hard, fast, and unforgiving. It knocked him off his feet and flat onto his ass, and he didn’t mind a bit. The only hard part was keeping it a secret from her for so long!

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Big time. Jack felt it would be inappropriate to make a pass at her at all-- his gentlemanly nature insisted he was only to subtly imply his feelings for her, but otherwise treat her with ladylike gentleness and cordiality-- especially when he did hold some sway in the office, and that could be misinterpreted as, well, something unsavory. He tried hard to push the feelings down, to make them quieter and less intrusive, but he couldn’t help growing more and more attached to her, particularly when they ended up spending more and more time together as coworkers. Every new side of her that he saw made him fall more hopelessly off the steep cliff’s edge of adoration, and he barely had the willpower to hold on to propriety. Still, he did his damnedest!

Similarly, she resisted a great deal; how embarrassing would it be for her to try and flirt with a man so far out of her league, and so far up the ladder from her rung? It’d kill her, socially and in terms of her career, to make a faux pas like that, so she kept the feelings bottled up deep, deep inside herself. Still, whenever he smiled at her or went out of his way to be so intoxicatingly gentlemanly towards her, she found herself swooning; sure, maybe he treats all the girls like this. Maybe he’s just a well-raised man. But she still couldn’t resist the inkling that, maybe, just maybe, he was particularly fond of her; even if it was just a girlish fantasy, it made her heart race to imagine him harboring some secret affection for her, and, as she would later find out, that fantasy ended up being more than a little factual.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Jack is a sucker for the idea of soulmates. He fully believes in commitments of the heart, body and soul, and would be utterly unsurprised to know that the woman he’d given his heart to so wholly was his soulmate. He may talk a lot of big game and posture all the live-long day about pleasing women and seeing “the whole doughnut”, but that’s just pretense: Jack’s a one-woman man, and he’s happy to pledge himself as her soulmate. More than happy.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Jack, presumably, would have continued his work without ever knowing there was something missing, but would be distinctly less engaged in the office, sharply unhappy, and would have been more inclined towards keeping himself busy with field work. He would have closed off even further from attachments and affection and continued in his hollowed state, scraped clean of any remnants of the possibility for love, and would have, likely, kept running missions until his luck ran out. A dark ending to a cold story.

Her life would be entirely up to her, ready for any path she might be inclined to follow, though she would never know the joy of being treated with such respect and love as Jack treats her with, and she would never meet a man so gentlemanly, so adoring, nor so intensely loyal. Perhaps she would meet someone else she could love just as much as she would have loved Jack, but her life would be a painting lacking the warm hues of Jack’s mirth, love, and tenderness.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I have a whole fic about that! But, in short, Jack did! I like to think of Jack waiting for ages and ages to find the “right” moment to tell her he had feelings for her and ask her out, and though he was petrified of making a mistake and losing her forever (and coming off like a creep), he managed to show her the sincerity of his attachment, and be granted the greatest gift of all: returned affections. She wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted to go out with her, and, from there, they melded together and the relationship progressed!

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In that aforementioned fic, I suggest that their first date was sitting together on a long flight and watching movies together during a corporate excursion, and I like to stand by that! But if you mean first “date where they went somewhere”, after that flight, the two of them rented a car at the airport, went for breakfast at a local diner, and then took in the sights of the town before capping off the night with dinner and a movie. They ended up spending the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing, shy but ecstatic to be finally able to be open with their attraction to the other, and adored every moment of the date. It was a little awkward, at first, but they quickly matched one another’s patterns, especially towards the end of the night, cuddled up together at the theatre, resting their heads on each other and holding hands, exchanging little kisses on the hand back and forth.

It was like magic.

What was their first kiss like?

Nervous! Jack, normally so confident and slick, found himself trembling as he leaned in closer to her, hovering his lips over hers and feeling the quakes and tremors careening through every muscle of his body: all he wanted was to grab her by the face and kiss her as hard as he could and never let go, but he knew that would hardly be appropriate, so he just inched in, millimeter by millimeter, until she pressed up and closed the gap herself, sending him spiralling with fireworks behind his eyes and pure jolts of adrenaline coursing through his heart.

He ended up accidentally deepening the kiss by leaning in and groaning through his nose-- he’d held back for so long that his body wanted to take everything it could get before it lost its chance-- and felt her hands rise to cup the back of his head, locking him into her, which made his legs turn into jelly and his eyes roll back in their sockets in delight.

Suffice to say, they were out of breath when they parted, and not just from holding their breaths during the kiss.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Well, she wasn’t Jack’s first kiss, nor his first girlfriend, but she is definitely Jack’s first and only love of his life. And his first and only wife! As for the other way ‘round, Jack is his wife’s first long-term boyfriend, then her first and only husband, and, of course, the one and only (and thus first) true love. Ain’t that sweet?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Jack comes in at 5’11’’, 6’1’’ in certain sets of cowboy boots, and often likes that his wife is just short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her head during hugs. As for their age difference, Jack wouldn’t be at ease with anything more than a ten year age gap, and even that’s pushing it, so his wife is somewhere in that range. While age may be “just a number” to some, development isn’t, so he isn’t looking for a woman who isn’t at the same point in life he is. He wants to always be in sync with his missus, so being close in age and close in life plans is important to him.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Jack has no real family; his parents both passed on a while back and he was an only child. He’s charming and affable with his wife’s family, but gets surprisingly nervous at family events and prefers to keep to himself: frankly, he’d rather spend all their holidays alone at home with the missus than be around her parents or siblings.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Jack. His savoir-faire attitude, pleasing manners and general suave presence makes him a natural fit for taking the lead in just about every situation, but especially when out and about; his wife leans more on the quiet side, and he’s fine doing the talking towards others for the both of them. He’s fine ordering for her at restaurants, fine handling chit chat with drivers or dinner guests, fine charming businessmen or clients. He’s happy to be her voice when she doesn’t feel like talking, and happy to be the conversational springboard for her when she wants to make a foray into it.

Who gets jealous easier?

Jack has a shockingly vicious mean streak in him, and he can border on being possessive, at times. Sometimes it’s sweet how much he cares and how protective he is over her, but jealousy is a wholly different beast; when Jack feels like someone is flirting with his wife or has caught her eye, something hardhearted and controlling in him claws its way to the surface in him, and he looks at the object of her imagined affections with nothing but pure, boiling hatred.

For example, he can get more than a little insecure if he thinks she’s staring too closely at a particularly attractive actor during a movie-- does she think that man has a better body than him? Does she like that man because he’s younger? Prettier? Has a smaller nose and brighter eyes? Fewer wrinkles?-- and ends up hating the actor in every subsequent movie, even going so far as to refuse to watch films with that person in them.

He also can be more than a little rude to other men in public, but in a backhanded, “disguised” way, his cruelties and biting remarks hidden under a balmy layer of “Southern kindness”. Once, at a coffee shop, a barista gave his wife an extra baked good for being “the cutest customer he’d seen all day”, and Jack grabbed the pastry, smiled toothily at the man, and remarked that the barista had “good taste, though you wouldn’t guess it”, pointedly looked the man up and down as if judging his apparel, then took his wife’s hand and left the shop in a cloud of bitterness.

She’d really let Jack have it after that one.

Inversely, Jack’s wife can be more than a little guilty of jealousy, herself; after all, she knows her husband is a very, very attractive man, and that more than a few women find him alluring-- she’s heard how other women talk about him at the office-- and upon finding out that some of his field work can involve seducing women for information, she was in a near-constant jealousy tizzy for weeks. He’d had to promise her that he wouldn’t ever allow the seduction to be more than flirting, and even sworn to her that he would turn down operations where such a means of extraction was baked into the plan, but the feeling lingers, burning sour in her stomach whenever she knows he’s deployed. Is he out there, somewhere, flirting with some floozy, whispering things in that woman’s ear that he once whispered in hers?

It takes Jack eons to assure her that all his affection for her is earnest and passionate and that he never once used “the moves” on her that he might use for a mission, but every now and then, she still gets frustrated at the idea of him being coy with other women and he’ll have to take her aside and show her just how special their love is to him.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Mister Daniels. What he whispers is a secret between himself and the missus, but rest assured knowing that he likes to spare her no detail when elaborating on what exactly it is he’s thinking about when it comes to her.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Jack wanted to say it first so, so bad: he had a whole moment planned out, where they’d be on a night drive, parked in his truck, watching the stars, and he’d have beautiful music in the background as they lay in the flatbed, and he’d turn to her and say those three words, sweeping her off her feet, but… she beat him to it.

She’d come down with a horrible cold, one that left her practically bedridden, and he’d come over in a panic, carrying bags of medicine and ointments and cool patches and Gatorades and soup from the best deli in town, and he’d spent the entire rest of the evening taking care of her. After propping her up on her pillows, putting on a calming movie, throwing out all her used tissues, getting her changed into clean, comfy pajamas, and feeding her warm soup and cool drinks, she was drifting off to sleep. Jack was getting ready to spend the night sleeping on the couch, and just before he left, she tugged him by the hand, looking up at him with cold medicine-calmed eyes. Dreamily, she stroked his cheek and hummed a soft “thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her knuckles. “Get some sleep, alright, Princess?”

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Goodnight, bunnykins. I love you.”

And with that, her medicine kicked in, and she dozed off, leaving Jack floating on air, hovering by her bed, staring with utter adoration at this sleeping angel who… loved him.

Loved him.

He barely slept that night, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to fight off the silly, creeping smiles of a boy in love.

What are their primary love languages?

For Jack, he feels the most loved when he receives physical affection and is able to spend quality time with his wife. He has a deep attachment to her and feels that it’s best expressed when they’re able to touch each other; he adores being hugged by her, feeling her kiss his whole face, the way her hands playfully squeeze his butt when he wears those jeans she loves, the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tracing down his jawline and throat. Any time she’s touching him, he feels his life is complete and full, and when they’re apart, he feels fuzzy around the edges, as if only she can bring the whole picture into focus for him.

Add to that the enjoyment of quality time: Jack loves being able to spend days on end in only her company, doing anything she wants, talking back and forth and just absorbing the pleasure of being in her presence. He especially enjoys working on something together, like learning to dance together or building something (he, somehow, fell even more in love with her as they built a bookshelf together for their new, shared apartment), and, of course, traveling with her for trips and vacations. Once, they were snowed in together during a stay in Oregon, and he spent the whole three days of the snow-in just following her around the cabin like a lovesick puppy. They ended up sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, her perched on his lap, he with his arms fettered around her tummy, watching YouTube videos on resin pouring for, like, ten hours. He loved it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

“Well, excuse me, miss, but there seems to be something wrong with my phone--”

“Jack, no, don’t--”

“Because I seem not to have your number in it!”

“Oh my god.”

“Did I wander on in to the Louvre? Because my, oh my, I am staring at a true work of art, little lady.”

“Jack, please--”

“Lemme go get my glasses on, beautiful; you’re too fine for me to see without ‘em.”

“I’m going to lock you out of the bedroom if you keep this up--”

“Now, sugar, come on, can you blame me? I’m in such terrible pain!”

“Mhm.”

“Because it sure hurt when I fell for you!”

“OH MY GOD.”

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Every single day that Jack’s home, they’re cuddling in bed at the end of the day. He can’t sleep unless he’s got her in his arms, and he just can’t help but be a little handsy; he’s a lover of touch, after all! As for PDA, Jack tries to keep public affection “tasteful”, but also lets a little of his possessive nature pull through, at times: he likes to “mark” what’s his, and she’s his, all the way, so he likes to walk with his hand on the small of her back, sometimes cheekily stuck in the back pocket of her pants to get a feel of the nice curves back there, or periodically lean down to kiss her cheek and see if she’s interested in a more full-on kiss. At the office, they keep it limited to the occasional kiss on the cheek when there’s fewer people around, though that’s not to say Jack hasn’t teased the idea of going for something more intimate at work, before.

Who initiates kisses?

Both of them! They’re a very affectionate couple, but out of the two of them, Jack can be the most forward when it comes to making his intent to be kissed known. He has no shame about taking her chin in his hand and leaning in for a nice, deep kiss, or in pulling her by the waist away from whatever she was working, planting a wet one on her. Jack loves to feel her smile against his lips, and he’ll take just about any opportunity he can to snag a kiss from her. On her end, she loves to walk past him and press little kisses on his temples, cheeks, or the top of his head (provided he’s sitting down!), and will often try to walk off and continue what she was doing, only for Jack to grab her by the hips and tug her back for an even bigger kiss. He claims she “tempted him” into doing it; after all, a little kiss like that is more of an appetizer for the greater meal, is it not?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They sometimes alternate, but more often than not like to go back to their favorite position, with Jack (and all his long limbs) as the big spoon, curled around his wife, resting his chin on his plumpness, pressed up against her. That said, he also adores feeling her softness surround him as she holds him from behind, all warm and cuddly. It makes him feel loved and cared for, and he melts for it.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Both of them enjoy exploring the town together: walking around the city, trying new restaurants, strolling in the park, window shopping, going to museums, anything! They like to walk and talk, discuss what they’re seeing, things going on in their lives, or what they’re hoping to do, next. They love trying new foods together, especially when it’s something unusual to them or something they’ve never heard of before. They also love to go to the movies together, and take great pleasure in reviewing films together or just canoodling in the theatre seats. Hell, sometimes Jack doesn’t even watch the movie: he spends all 90-some minutes with his face pressed into her neck, giving her hickies and letting his hands wander.

They also like to snuggle up at home and watch television, with Jack’s indulgences being cooking competition shows and dancing shows. He also has a secret indulgence: RuPaul’s Drag Race. He knows it’s trashy, he knows it’s staged, and he knows it can be, well, problematic at times, but damn, if he doesn’t get a kick out of how some of those queens fight! His wife will watch with him, even if it’s not her style, just because it’s cute to watch him gasp when one queen throws a drink at another or hear him complain that a queen is underdressed for the challenge. Watching Jack is ten times better than any entertainment the show itself could provide her!

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Both of them are actually pretty emotionally intuitive people, and Jack is deeply sentimental and emotionally intelligent, so it naturally follows that he can comfort her and show her all the examples of his love and protection when she feels low and fragile. Inversely, his wife knows him, and all his broken pieces, and is able to wrap her arms around him and tell him just what he needs to hear: the truth. That she loves him, that she’ll never give up on him, that she’s always by his side, and that they’ll weather any storm together. That he isn’t irreparable, unlovable, alone.

They both take great comfort in one another, and many couples envy their emotional honesty and how much they genuinely do care for and protect each other.

Who’s more protective?

Jack; he’s constantly anxious that something horrible is going to happen to his wife. He’s seen some pretty grisly business in his line of work, and participated in more than his fair share of that kind of business, and the ghosts of those deeds float around in his head and haunt his visions, making him fearful that something dreadful will befall her, as he’s seen befall so many others before her. He gets antsy and tends to hover around her, though he pretends he doesn’t. He also feels an obligation to protect her, as the “man of the house” and her husband; he’s old-fashioned and believes it’s his job to provide for and defend her, and while the sentiment is sweet, he can be a little overbearing at times, trying to coax her into letting him handle everything for her sometimes teetering on the edge of condescension.

She knows he’s only trying to be her gentleman, her knight in shining armor, her cowboy, but she has to assert that she’s a fully capable adult woman to him every now and then and show him that while she loves and appreciates his dedication to her safety, she’s going to be just fine, and they can work together on things, not leaving it all up to him to take care of. He’s still learning, and he can sometimes regress into old habits, but he’s made wonderful progress!

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

It’s an interesting mix of both! Jack loves to dole out praises and pet names and playful little flirts with his wife, but he’s also not afraid to get handsy with her to express his affection for her. He prefers to use both at the same time; holding her hips in his hands, swaying from side to side, murmuring teasing tones and warm whispers to her about how beautiful she is, how sweet and kind and lovely, and how she’s all his. And for as physical a man as he is, Jack feels truly loved when his wife tells him honest and earnest things she loves about him, or when she tells him he did a good job at something, and he can tell she’s sincere. It reminds him that he’s not just a body for her to love, but a soul, a person that she admires and takes comfort in. And that’s the most loving thing of all!

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

They both really love Dolly Parton, so “Islands In The Stream” comes on fairly often as one of their “dance around the living room and sing to each other” songs, as does “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That” by Dolly! He also loves Johnny Cash, so “I’ll Remember You” is one of their favorites. Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” is one saved for special, quiet moments; it was played at their wedding, and holds a special spot in their hearts as a song to hold each other to, or murmur the lyrics to one another to show them how much they are adored.

Similarly, they also have “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole as one of their special songs: after all, they had both promised that “When I give my heart it will be completely, or I'll never give my heart,” in their own ways, so dedicated to true and loyal love, and then they found one another, and their hearts were given in totality.

There are more, but these are just a few (particularly romantic) ones!

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Jack calls his wife “Darlin’,” obviously, but also loves to use terms like “Honeycomb,” “Miss,” “Sugar,” “Little Lady,” “Babydoll,” “Princess”: heck, what doesn’t he call her? He loves using pet names for her!

She calls him “Mister Daniels,” “Cowboy,” “Baby,” and “My Big Man”, among other things.

Who remembers the little things?

Both of them! Each of them loves to keep track of special, unique things about their partner; she remembers that Jack hates acrid coffee and likes his with two sugars and two creams, or that he always puts his socks on left to right, or that he won’t leave the house until his tie is the perfect length, or that he always checks his mustache in every reflective surface he passes. He remembers that she brushes her teeth anytime she eats something that leaves the “fuzzy sweater feeling” and that she loves when he gently fingers combs her hair so much that her eyes close and she makes the same little pleased hum every time or that she only can sleep if there’s at least some cool air so she can bundle up and get snuggly.

The little things are what let you know you’re in love, you know?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Jack, ever the picture of the classic gentleman, absolutely takes the initiative on proposing. He makes a whole big-to do about it, planning everything down to the exact detail and sparing no expense in trying to procure the perfect moment for him to pop that perpetual question. He actually quite enjoys the planning and that enjoyment does carry over to when they’re planning the wedding itself!

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding itself, despite Jack’s indulgences, was actually rather small: Jack doesn’t have that many people in his life he’d want to invite, so his side of the affair was rather empty, and so, in keeping, his wife decided to limit the event to just very close friends and immediate family. Both were very happy about that, being rather private people, and enjoyed being able to have an intimate wedding with a greater attention to atmosphere and personal touches than would be afforded for a much bigger wedding.

Jack had a few firm policies about the “tone” of the affair: he didn’t want a bunch of loud music, he didn’t want people getting drunk, and he wanted it to be fun but not “trashy”, a loose term he threw around at anything he didn’t really like or considered “gauche” when shopping around for wedding ideas. He also wanted to have at least part of the event take place outdoors, so the wedding ceremony was held indoors while the reception was outside, under the stars on an autumn night.

He hired a full, live band to play the affair, and had a fair amount of fun dancing with his wife all through the night, from the traditional slow dance to up-tempo square dancing to just uncoordinated wiggling as they laughed their way into their brand-new marriage. Jack loves to dance, and having her in his arms, swaying to whatever beat life threw at them, made his heart soar.

I could go into more detail about themes and color palettes and the ceremony itself, but that’s for another day!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Jack wants tons of kids. He wants as many kids as nature sees fit to give them, and has absolutely no shame in expressing that desire to his wife. Thankfully, she’s on the same page: while she may not want to be pregnant every bout of nine months or so, she also wants kids and is happy to raise as many as come along over the course of her and Jack’s lifetimes; a big family does not daunt either of them. As such, their marriage became a very fruitful one as time went on, and they soon welcomed their first child, a baby girl.

Jack was absolutely, unbelievably smitten with the little creature the moment he found out his wife was pregnant, and became even more resolutely devoted to her when she was placed, wriggling and crying and all red and small, in his arms, mere moments after her birth. He’d stared at her, half-sobbing, half-laughing, as his wife gripped his hand, and both of them fell utterly, hopelessly in love with that tiny little girl as she took her first breaths.

The little family only continued to grow after that; a few years later, when their little lady had grown into a chubby, grinning toddler, she met her baby brother, a squirmy bundle of miniature limbs and his Daddy’s dark curls, who Jack swore was born knowing how to smile, giggling as soon as he felt his Daddy take him into a hug. Three years after that, another tiny Daniels came into the world, a bright-eyed and curious baby boy who seemed to only snuffle, not cry, when he was placed in his Mama’s arms that very first day, peering around with a wondering gaze that made Jack’s heart break with utmost adoration.

(There may definitely come more little babies, but I think three is a good number to start with describing!)

They’re each amazingly different, and Jack loves them all as unique souls: his daughter, Lucinda (shortened to Lucy), is playful like her father, and loves to follow him around the house and ask him what he’s up to, sometimes running off with his hat just to win his attention away from desk work or some other ‘unimportant’ task. She adores her Mama, and hangs off her mother’s every word, copying her mannerisms and asks near-constantly to help with cooking or with playing with her brothers, who she loves to play “pranks” on (translation: she raspberries their tummies, then shoots off to another room, laughing hysterically).

Their first son, Joseph, is a rowdy little whirlwind, and learned to walk quickly just to keep up with his older sister, giving chase wherever she went. He loves to toddle around the house, squeaking and cheeping, showing his Mama and Daddy what he’s doing (often putting something in his mouth that he absolutely should not be putting in there). He loves being carried by Daddy and will crawl into Jack’s lap on the couch, sitting on his knees and making faces until Daddy laughs. He absolutely loves to make people laugh, and will play games like peek-a-boo for hours, gleefully shrieking and adoring when he hears his parents laugh at his silly noises.

The littlest one, Johnnie, is the quietest of the children, and enjoys cuddling up to his Mama and Daddy and taking naps on their chest. When not sleeping, he likes to sit and watch what others are doing, and seems the happiest when resting in his carrier on the table, watching his Mama hard at work on a project, and especially enjoys watching her partake in crafts like knitting, sewing, or cooking. Johnnie also enjoys watching animal programs on TV: he cries if they play anything loud and bright for him, and calms immediately when Animal Planet or National Geographic is on. He’s barely old enough to hold his head up, but will stretch in his bassinet to see his favorite animal, horses, on TV, or if Daddy is reading a book and doing horsie noises. He loves to wiggle his miniature arms around in circles, delighted by the pony sounds, and Jack can’t help but grin at how adorable his little man is.

Do they have any pets?

Yep! Though they save getting pets until the kids are older, the family gets a pair of dogs, both adoptees from a local shelter. The bigger dog is a mutt between a lab and German Shepherd named “Messy” by Lucy, and the smaller dog is a beagle-mix named “Buster”. They’re both deeply well-loved dogs, and though Jack may have pretended to not want dogs, he dotes on the two of them relentlessly.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Jack can be paranoid, at times, about anything bad befalling his kids, and he while he tends to be relaxed and fairly easy-going with the children, he can sometimes have bouts of militaristic tenseness and scold them for going somewhere without telling him, playing in the street, talking to strangers, et cetera. He gets so nervous that sometimes it bubbles up in controlling mannerisms, trying to keep his children as safe as possible, but going about it the wrong way. That said, he is a loving father, willing to apologize if he steps out of line, and he never yells at his children.

Who worries the most?

As mentioned before, Jack can teeter into paranoia that something will hurt his babies, but his wife gives him a run for his money, at times, especially because it can be harder for mothers to be separated from their little ones at first. The truth is, all loving parents worry about their kids, and always will, and both Jack and the Missus worry about their wee ones out in the big world.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Joseph keeps trying to eat them! But it’s usually Jack, if only by default as the taller partner with the long, willowy limbs that can actually reach the corner of the wall where the damn spider is hiding.

How do they celebrate holidays?

As best they can! Mostly, they like to keep it to just the family, and don’t do any huge parties, unless it’s a birthday, especially for one of the kids: Jack tends to indulge the kids, particularly on their birthdays, so while the parties aren’t massive, they often have lots of kids and their parents come over for a big playdate and run around the house, lots of cake and balloons and party hats and presents wrapped in puppydog paper.

As for holidays like Christmas, Hanukkah, et cetera, they like to stay home and do all the decorating themselves, and often involve the kids in the decorating process. A cozy, safe at home feeling fills all their hearts and Jack loves seeing his family all gathered together, making little ornaments or snacks together, cuddled up watching movies or playing with toys, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Ol’ Missus Daniels has the greatest track record in the world of being able to coax her early morning-riser husband back into bed, back into her arms, and back to sleep. He can’t resist her sleepy eyes and beckoning smile, the way she opens her arms and pouts at him, the rusty creak of her tired little voice cooing “c’mere, you big lug, they can wait”. He has yet to convince himself to leave her side after a ploy like that.

Who’s the better cook?

Jack is flat out terrible. He’s great at a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them. He really is doing his best to improve his cooking, but he gets frustrated with how long it takes to make a good meal; he was so used to getting exactly what he wanted at fine dining restaurants and having things delivered to his apartment as a bachelor that he barely touched any of the dishes in his kitchen, and kept his fridge almost bare. Now that he’s a family man, he really does try-- he practices alongside his wife, watches the Food Network, stuff like that-- but he ends up burning things and getting pouty, and his wife will have to take over and show him how it’s done, which he appreciates. She was always the better cook out of the two of them, anyway.

Who likes to dance?

Very often, Jack’ll click on the radio and take his wife’s waist in his hands, giving it a loving squeeze as he twirls her around the kitchen, out through the living room, sometimes at the foot of their bed, his cheek pressed to hers, grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes, the babies will want to join in; Lucy will stand on her Daddy’s feet and hold his hands, swaying all around and screaming with delight, or Johnnie will be held to Mama’s chest and bop around with her to the tune of one of his favorite songs. Joseph, much like his father, likes to boogie on down and shimmy his diapered tush around, giggling as his Daddy applauds him. They all love to dance together!

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send in any requests for similar questions!

#jack daniels #agent whiskey #kingsman #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #long post #original #BEHOLD. content.#and i named all the kids after relatives of the Original Jack Daniels (whiskey guy) and after Johnnie Walker (another whiskey company) >;3c

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sunakith · 3 years

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hi! sorry in advance for this long ask 😥 i read metamorphosis in your old blog and reread it here again. i remember the asks you got in your old blog with all of the possible theories about WHO the snitch could possibly be: from yn’s friends to suna’s and the wildest one, suna himself. so i’d like to share my theory up to ch20.

THE SNAKE:

* is someone who has been telling yn’s mom about her whereabouts for a while (even before she officially met suna and his friends)

* the only people who yn is close to AND trust are 3: kuroo, akaashi and sora

* the task at the begging was easy: yn didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, was always cautious around people. so it was easy money without getting yn in trouble(?)

* something interesting: the meeting between them and yn’s mom. they had to choose a cafe that was not only suitable for mrs LN standards BUT also a place away from prying eyes (i see it as if someone saw them it would be hard to explain why they were together 👀)

so the snitch CANNOT be any of suna’s friends bc not only they never met yn in person before she went to suna’s tattoo shop but there was no way they could know yn’s whereabouts and mrs LN didn’t know about their existence till after the family brunch at the fancy restaurant (yn told her parents she didn’t know them)

the snitch could be one (you said it was only one) between kuroo akaashi and sora

1. KUROO - probably yn longtime friend among the three. they come form the same family background: rich kids plus their parents are friends. contrary to yn’s parents, kuroo’s seem to be less strict and support his (side/temporary) career as a youtuber but it doesn’t mean they don’t have expectations on their son. he’s studying law school and one if not both of his parents are lawyers (him saying he would use his parents old books bc he didn’t have some at the begging of the smau) - he has to follow his parents steps either bc he wants to or has been forced/induced on wanting to be a lawyer.

even tho he said multiple times he was broke, we should think on HIS meaning of being broke. he has a certain life stile so when he says he needs money it doesn’t mean he cannot afford to pay for rent (does he even have to pay? does he own the place he lives in? and even if he was broke and needed money for food he could easily go to his family’s home.

is he the snake? for me, no he isn’t (and it was confirmed in ch21)

* as he said - (ch21) excluding the easy money - there was nothing for him to risk his friendship with yn. even if yn’s mom doesn’t stand him it didn’t stop her from being friends with his parents

* he’s the one who could really understand yn’s situation with her parents. what it means coming from a wealthy family and your parents put a certain pressure on you and your future wether intentionally (the LNs) or not (the Kuroos)

2. AKAASHI - the perfect guy according to yn’s mom.

* he doesn’t come from a wealthy family, his tuition is paid by yn’s parents (no one knows this info) so he really does need extra money bc he has to cover for his other expenses and support his own family

* he’s close to yn but not enough to know her feelings/doubts (sora)

* the way mrs LN talk/message the snake like she genuinely cares about them

* when yn ditched the dinner with the sakusa’s and her parents, yn’s mom with sakusa went to her apartment (they found sora with atsumu). yn was with suna and he decided to drive her back home, that’s when yn’s mom and sakusa met suna and yn panicked bc of sakusa’s presence. mrs LN asked info about suna to the snake and they didn’t know who she was talking about (sora was there and knew suna was with yn). only kuroo and akaashi weren’t there/didn’t know suna met mrs LN

* akaashi went back home for a month and during that period he missed certain things about yn x suna relationship also he didn’t check that often the gc.

* the brunch (ch20) - akaashi wasn’t there: we don’t know yet how yns mom and sakusa knew where to find yn. did the snake told any of them the address OR did yn ratted herself out by posting the place on her ig (it is public if im not mistaken)? the snake could easily forward the picture to any of them if her profile was private and they didn’t know the address (akaashi)

3. SORA - yn’s only female friend

* like akaashi she doesn’t come from a wealthy family (as far as we know) and she doesn’t go to college but works.

* yn’s mom dislikes her (at least on the surface)

* she doesn’t understand why yn is/was so obedient to her parents, it’s hard to understand from an outside pov (kuroo in a certain way can even if his parents aren’t that controlling)

* the cafe meeting with mrs LN. the way the place should be secluded 👀

* as i said before telling yn’s mom about yn’s life was easy money and there was nothing «interesting» in her life to be hidden from her parents

the snake (for me) is one between sora and akaashi.

AFTER CH21 im thinking more on akaashi bc of the convo between the snake and sakusa where sakusa tells the snake that what they are doing all of this for yn’s sake. akaashi doesn’t know how yn truly feels about suna nor her doubts/worries before they became official (only sora knows) BUT if the snake ends up being sora…(i guess that would be the biggest betrayal yn could get) she deserves an oscars as best actress in a bc not only she played matchmaker with yn x suna but she’s basically yn’s (only) confidant

last but not least let’s talk about my man (sorry yn) suna. not to be a suna apologist (im the first to call his ass out when he’s bitch) but could you really blame him for not wanting to listen to yn? he opened up about his past with her and in one of the first chapters - don’t remember if it was the gc with the twins or he told to yn - was mentioned how his last relationship or the most important one he ended up being emotionally hurt by his partner and he decided to stay away from relationship for a while. so imagine what/how he felt when sakusa told him he was yn’s boyfriend when she not only told him sakusa was just a family friends but they are (suna x yn) supposed to be in a relationship.

yn postponing to tell suna the truth about sakusa (them being together in a arranged relationship bc of their parents business) ended up hurting him. there was never a right moment (the sooner the better) but she should have explained

or at least vaguely mention it to him either when she told him about her parents (when they opened up about each other) or after the apartment incident BUT definitely before they started dating bc she basically lied to suna.

i think that’s all 😵‍💫

The fucking thought & detail that went into this ask!!!! I love it!!!!

Okay, so let me try to answer this properly without skipping over anything, but also without giving away any key parts of the au lol.

So, I did mention this fact on my old blog, but I didn't mention it here, so the snake has been betraying Y/N way before she was introduced to Suna, & his friends. So that fact alone eliminates Atsumu & Osamu from being the snake. You are also correct about the snake having it easy at first. Because there wasn't anything to report seeing how she never did anything until Suna came into the picture. That's when the snake started gathering information. But even at first they were hesitant to say anything, hence why Y/N's mom had to reassure the snake that it was okay, & that all of this was only in Y/N's favor.

We know now that Kuroo is not the snake, because in chapter 21 Sakusa had a conversation with the real snake, & pinning Kuroo out to be the backstabber was all part of his plan to keep the real snake safe. So that means, Sora, & Akaashi are the only ones left.

Sora & Akaashi do not come from wealthy families. Sora makes a very comfortable living tho with her job as a bartender. Akaashi is being put through school by the financial support of Y/N's parents ( this was also a fact I mentioned in the introduction chapter back on my old blog. ) But Y/N does not know about her parents supporting Akaashi, the only one that knows that information is Bokuto.

With Akaashi being financially supported it would make sense for him to be the snake right? Because in return he's doing something for them. But Sora could also very well be the snake. Yes she hates how Y/N parents are treating her, & she wants Y/N to be happy. But there could be a chance that she's the snake because she just simply wants to be on Y/N's parents good side. & at the same time try to convince her parents that Suna is the best thing for her. Because the snake does tell Y/N's mom about how they think Y/N is happier when she's with Suna, & they try to get her mom to see that. Though her mom is a bit stubborn, but maybe that's also what the snake is trying to do. Hoping that the mom will back out of this plan Y/N's family has for her, & let her do what she wants.

You know get on their good side & then win their trust in order to save their friend. So that could be a possibility why the snake is Sora.

Sooo who is the real snake??? 👀👀

& lastly, I agree! Y/N definitely should've told Suna sooner. But in her defense, she was scared that he'd walk away after hearing how much of a complicated mess all of that is. Sure she told him about her parents & stuff like that, but in Y/N's mind that's nothing compared to being in an arranged engagement against your will. She was scared that Suna will leave before she figures out a way to get out of going public with the fake engagement. She was hoping she would figure out a plan that would get her out of it before Suna found out. But it all back fired :(

#thank you for taking your time to send this!!!#<333 #anon #asks #sm au: metamorphosis

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lardguz · 4 years

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Zeke’s Just Desserts

This is a "little" story I worked on a couple weeks ago that I kept forgetting to make a new blog to post it to, so uh, here it is! It's about characters from Xe//nobla//de 2 because I have been like really into that game lately haha.

The calm night air of the Urayan Titan made for an intoxicating atmosphere to relax in after a long day of fighting and adventuring. Zeke von Genbu, the prince of Tantal, was currently taking in this beautiful weather while sitting outside a vacant shop front. The muscular man was sitting at a café table, watching flower petals falling from the trees and dancing in the breeze. He was waiting on his Blade, Gorg, to finish… whatever it was he was doing in that vacant store, when Zeke caught a whiff of something delicious on the breeze. The one eyed warrior inhaled deeply, smelling the intoxicating scent of something sugary and delicious. Closing his eye to try taking his mind off the smell, Zeke was taken off guard by the clatter of a plate sounding right next to his feet that were reclined on top of the table. His one good eye shooting open, the prince was greeted by the sight of his newest Blade, the merman Gorg, standing proudly next to a plate piled high with freshly baked cookies.

“What’s all this, chum?” Zeke inquired, staring down at the plate of cookies in front of him, and glancing back up at the aquatic Blade.

“Cookies, sir. Made ‘em myself,” Gorg replied proudly. “Try ‘em! They’re my special new test recipe for the café!”

Zeke took a cookie in his surprisingly delicate grasp, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a pensive nibble. The flavor surprised him, spicy but sweet at the same time. Within seconds the cookie was devoured, and the muscular prince immediately grabbed another. As he was reaching for his fourth cookie, a metallic hand gently grabbed his wrist.

“Ah, sir, I didn’t need you to eat them all at once,” Gorg smiled apologetically. “I just needed you to taste one for me and tell me if anything needs improvement.”

Zeke’s face flushed a slight pink as he hurriedly looked anywhere but at his Blade or the plate of cookies. “A-ah, yes, right, ahem. I did in fact realize this, but you see, the bearer of the Eye of Shining Justice has a mighty appetite, and needed to taste more than just one cookie for the full effect!”

Gorg placed his mechanical hands on his muscular hips and chuckled heartily at the embarrassment on his Driver’s face. “Sure thing, Prince, that makes perfect sense to me! But if you wanna help me out even more, you can just finish off that plate of cookies and tell me if you think they’re good enough to sell at the shop once and for all!”

Zeke cleared his throat, about to pass of gorging himself any further on the delicious cookies, when the smell of the spicy treats reached his nose again. Damn, why did he have to love spicy food so much? Sighing deeply, the one eyed prince vowed to himself that he’d train extra hard with Pandoria tomorrow to work off the extra calories he was about to consume. Then, he proceeded to shovel the test batch of cookies into his mouth one after another in steady succession, even after his stomach was already painfully full. The Zekenator didn’t back down from a challenge, whether on the battle field, or at the dinner table.

Finally, after clearing the plate of every cookie that was once upon it, the unlucky prince groaned in pain as he rubbed at his exposed midsection, his stomach slightly distended from all the food he’d just packed into it. The overstuffed swordsman slowly got up and walked to the local inn to go sleep off his food coma, hoping he would feel better tomorrow so he could begin working off the excess he’d just devoured.

A week had past since that first taste testing day that Zeke and Gorg had had, and the aquatic Blade had only amped up his recipe experiments since then. The day after that first trial run, Zeke woke up feeling more sluggish than usual, his gut still feeling slightly heavy. He had been about to go train with Pandoria when Gorg stopped him in the lobby of the inn and asked for his help tasting another batch of a different cookie recipe for him. This happened again and again over the next six days, a never ending cycle of delicious baked goods being handed off to the prince for an honest opinion on their flavors, and Zeke being unable to stop himself from gorging on the entire batch. This led to the man’s current predicament.

Zeke stood in his rented bedroom at the Fonsa Myma inn, staring at himself in a full length mirror. His hands were currently holding onto his stomach, which had a budding layer of fat forming on it that was blatantly obvious to anyone with at least one eye, seeing as he never wore a shirt under his long tattered coat. His hands groped and prodded at his once-chiseled chest and abdomen, now sporting a much softer, rounded physique. Zeke was about to go out and train a little on his own to see if he could burn the fat off of him before it became too much of a hindrance, when he heard a knock at his door.

Opening the door slightly, Zeke was greeted by the ever-enthused face of Gorg, the budding pastry chef Blade. “Hey there, good morning to you, Prince! Just thought I’d stop by and ask for your help again at the shop today! I made a bunch of a test recipe for flans and need to know what a human thinks of them, if that’s okay with you?” The Blade grinned proudly, obviously excited to have finally moved past cookies.

Zeke almost didn’t have it in his heart to turn the excited merman down, but if he kept up these eating habits, no one would ever look at him the same again. The prince cleared his throat and looked Gorg in the eye. “Gorg, my friend, you see, there’s a bit of a smallish problem with me being your designated taste tester. You see, a strong, handsome, powerful prince such as myself can’t do nothing but eat desserts all day. If I keep doing that, I’ll lose my combative edge, and then what? No one will fear the great Thunderbolt Zeke, the Zekenator, the Eye of Shining Justice, if they think he’s gone soft, right, chum?”

Gorg looked down apologetically before responding. “Yeah, you see, Prince, I did kind of already notice you’d been putting on a little weight from the cookie taste test trials, and I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to stop or help. But I did come up with a plan for the flan tests! I’m using much less fattening ingredients in this trial run, so you should be able to shed the excess weight from the cookies in no time!”

“Wha—really?!” Zeke exclaimed, “That’s fantastic news, Gorg! Well, in that case, I’m all yours for the day! Point me towards the flans, and Thunderbolt Zeke will see to it they never see the light of day again! Hah!” He struck one of his usual dramatic poses, the soft layer of flab on his stomach wobbling slightly as he did so. Gorg led him to the shop front, with a table laid with an array of his latest attempt at a flan flavor, enough to feed a small family for a week. Zeke managed to put it all away in the space of an hour, and then asked for seconds, to which the chef Blade was happy to oblige. He loved baking, but what he loved more was seeing people enjoy his desserts, but Gorg had never imagined someone would ever enjoy them to the extent that his beloved Driver did. So he promised himself that he would do nothing else aside from keep cooking marvelous dishes to please the Tantalese prince for the rest of their time together.

Zeke woke up groggily one morning because of a sudden loud noise interrupting his slumber. He blinked his eye slowly, trying to determine the source of the sound, when it happened again: a low, gurgling rumble, coming directly from his stomach. The prince grumbled and slowly rolled over, swinging his feet over the edge of his bed. Heaving his considerable bulk up into a standing position, the topless prince made his way over to the mirror to take a look at his body.

The first immediately noticable thing was his face, which was much less sharp, and softened considerably by round chubby cheeks and a double chin. His neck was covered in a layer of fat as well, which caused him to have a triple chin when he looked down. His once-hardened muscular chest had softened to a flabby set of moobs, which sagged to the sides of his massive gut. His six pack was long gone, replaced now by a double-decker flabby stomach that split right across the middle, where the top roll folded over the belly button. His arms were much larger than they once were, but not in a muscular way; his biceps oozed with flab, dangling off his arms in true bingo wing fashion. His hands were even starting to get fatter too now. His massive thighs and rear gave were large compared to most other humans, but not enough to give him pear shaped body, his gigantic round gut giving him an undeniable apple shape. His thighs were covered in flabby rolls, a fold of fat beginning to form over his knees, and his ass cheeks were each the size of a large melon, wobbling every time he even took a slight step. His footsteps were now an exaggerated waddle to prevent his enormous thighs from rubbing together too much.

Sighing, Zeke donned his coat, which was now painfully tight around his shoulders and armpits. It had been a month and a half since the warrior prince had begun helping his Blade, Gorg, pursue his dream of opening a dessert shop, and Zeke had since resigned himself to his new fate of being a fatass. Sure, Nia gave him a hard time, and Rex and Mórag were constantly worrying about his health, but he was strong and was able to push off their comments about his size quite easily at this point. If it meant making his Blade friend happy, and getting to enjoy his delicious cooking every day, the prince was happy.

Thankfully, the inn was a single floor building, and Gorg’s shop was right outside the front door, because Zeke was not in the best shape anymore. As the massive prince waddled his way to the store front, he plopped himself heavily into the nearest chair at a table, ignoring the creaking of the wooden seat as his gigantic behind sat down upon it, the flab of his ass and thighs oozing over the sides and threatening to swallow the chair whole. Wheezing from the exertion of just getting over to the store from the inn, Zeke was thankful when he saw Gorg approaching with plates piled high with drinks and cakes: milkshakes to cool him down after his exercise of waddling less than 200 feet, and piles of cakes for him to taste test for the shop. Gorg watched, pleased beyond words at the look of blissful satisfaction on his Driver’s fattening face as Zeke shoved slices of cake into his greedy mouth with barely any breaks or pauses, aside from slurping down milkshakes to clear his throat of crumbs. The strained seams of Zeke’s pants and coat popped in some places from this onslaught of gluttony, causing small bubbles of fat to seep through. Something about his Driver enjoying his food so much that he was outgrowing his clothes because of it sent a thrill rushing through Gorg’s chest, and he realized he wanted to cause the Tantalese prince to outgrow his clothes entirely.

Zeke chugged down the last milkshake, belching into a closed fist as he did so. His fat face was covered in frosting and crumbs, which he didn’t even seem to notice. “Really good stuff, there, Gorg! I think that’ll be some top-hole stuff to sell at your shop, chum.” Zeke patted his overfed middle joyously to emphasize his point.

Gorg grinned enthusiastically as he clapped the prince on his jiggly shoulder. “That’s great to hear! Well if that’s the successful cake recipe, then I think I’m ready to open the shop tomorrow. I’ll just need you and the others to help me advertise. Can you do that for me, Prince?”

Zeke huffed as he hoisted himself up from his table. Breathing heavily as he stood, balancing himself with a hand on the table, he finally responded. “Sure, chum, I can definitely help out with that. What’ll you need me to do?” Gorg looked thoughtful for a second before responding. “You, sir? I’ll give you a whole hell of a lot of free samples to try and entice people to our store, sound good?”

The obese prince nodded enthusiastically, chins wobbling as he did so. “Oh, absolutely! Nothing that the great Thunderbolt Zeke can’t handle!” Placing his chubby hands on his flabby love handles, he laughed heartily, his entire body jiggling as he did so. Tomorrow would be a day to remember for him, getting to participate in the grand opening of the first-ever Blade-made dessert store!

The day of the grand opening of Gorg’s Just Desserts arrived, and the sample table in the square in front of the shop was absolutely piled high with desserts. The overfed swordsman, Zeke, scratched at the upper roll of his round gut as he stared in awe at the display. “So he wants me to hand out all of these? For free??” He scoffed, and reached a hand out to grab some cookies. “There’s far too much here for just samples. I doubt we’ll really need all of it.”

As his pudgy fingers were about to grasp a cookie, a much smaller and skinnier hand slapped his away. “Wh- Hey!” Zeke turned his lard-stuffed body towards the aggressor, being confronted by the much smaller form of his comrade, the salvager, Rex. The brown-haired boy grinned up at the jiggly obese mountain of a man, patting him on his exposed gut. “What d’you think you’re doing with that, Zeke? Those samples are for everyone, you can’t just steal some for yourself, that’s bad for business y’know!”

Zeke sighed dramatically. “Rex, my treasured chum, you simply don’t understand! I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast today, and there’s far more here than we could reasonably give away to everyone who walks by! Gorg has been having my extraordinary taste buds to test his recipes all this time, so he must have thought ahead and put extra out for me to dull my impressive hunger! He’s my Blade, you know. We have a special bond, so of course he’d know that!”

“Oh, sure, guess that makes sense. I did figure that might be a bit too much product for free samples,” Rex mumbled as he messed with his hair embarrassedly. “Well then, maybe you should pull up a chair? I reckon standing for too long’s probably out of the question for you now, yeah?”

Zeke huffed in an annoyed manner as he pulled a chair up and lowered his considerable bulk down into it, once again oblivious to the ominous wooden creaks as he did so. Rex chuckled as he headed back to his spot for calling patrons into the shop, wondering to himself if Nia was gonna complain about Zeke’s size again.

Now comfortable in his comparably small café chair, which was dwarfed by his absolutely disgustingly oversized ass and thighs, the morbidly obese prince promptly began stuffing his face with cookies, flans, and cakes, grabbing each with his fingerless-gloved hands, his plump sausage fingers coated in frosting and crumbs and the fabric of his gloves stained from his weeks of wanton gorging. His jiggling jowls and multiple chins wobbled back and forth as he chewed ravenously, and his flabby bingo wings slapped against his overstuffed pillow moobs and numerous side rolls every time he lifted a handful of sweets to his hungry mouth. His overfed gut pooled in his lap, forcing his massive tree trunk thick thighs apart on the inside and drooping over them on the outside. His love handles squeezed out of the top of the waist of his pants, pushing the sides of his long tattered coat even further back than he used to wear it. His lardy, misshapen ass oozed over the sides of the chair, each cheek now the size of an average bean bag chair. His flabby thighs ripped through the fabric of his overburdened pants in many different spots, and he could no longer properly bend his legs because of the fat covering his knees.

The spectacle of the gigantic man attracted more onlookers than even Rex or Nia’s shouted introductions of the shop, every Urayan fascinated by the massive Tantalese man absolutely stuffing himself in a strange attempt at advertising. Entire personal-sized cakes vanished down his greedy throat at an alarming rate. Yet, none of the observers were put off by this gluttonous display at all; in fact, quite the contrary. Urayan made their way to Gorg’s Just Desserts by the dozen, walking away with their own personal mountains of confectioneries. Nia, the Gormotti Driver who had been traveling with Rex for longer than anyone else now, was absolutely stunned by this marketing strategy.

The furry-eared girl muttered to Rex as they watched Zeke pop a few more seams on his pants and coat while shoving handfuls of cookies into his mouth. “Hey, Rex, why d’you think people are so obsessed with watchin’ Shellhead stuff himself silly? Seems a little weird, don’t it?”

Rex gave her a little bit of a reprimanding look before responding. “Nia, you’ve got to stop being so mean to poor Zeke. He’s just trying to help make Gorg’s dream a reality, isn’t he? And isn’t that why we decided to travel to Elysium together?”

“What, so Shellhead could become a gluttonous blob?” Nia snickered

Rex looked baffled. “Wha… No! To make our dreams a reality! Me and Pyra’s, remember?”

The Gormotti Driver rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks, I know Rex. I was only jokin’. You know, humor? Laughs? That stuff?” She sighed heavily. “Anyways, I guess you’re right about Zeke. He always was a bit too willin’ tae help others. Maybe I’ll cut him some slack from now on. I mean, his clothes sure ain’t cuttin’ him any.”

Right as she said that, the sound of ripping fabric rent the air, and Nia and Rex both turned their gazes towards their flabby companion just in time to watch the last threads of his shredded pants give way. Scraps of the fabric caught in his love handles and under his drooping stomach rolls, as the rest drifted to the ground below his chair. Zeke didn’t seem to notice that his strained pair of boxers, which barely contained his pasty ass now and looked more like an oversized bikini bottom, was now exposed to every onlooker. Nia averted her gaze, blushing furiously. “Ey, Rex, go and tell Shellhead to cover up his unmentionables! I don’t wanna see any of that!”

Rex blushed as well at the realization that Zeke was this close to being nude in front of potential customers. “Oh, er, right! I’ll, er, take care of that I guess. But uh, I think his guy’s big enough now to cover up any, er, wardrobe malfunctions, isn’t it?”

Nia closed her eyes and snapped back at the oblivious Salvager. “’Ow should I know?! I’m not lookin’ at my fatass friend’s body tae see if his one-eyed monster is on display for all to see or not!”

Rex looked at Nia, amused. “Oh hey, so you do know what that means after al—”

“JUST SHUT UP AND GO COVER UP SHELLHEAD’S FAT ASS BEFORE HE SCARES OFF OUR CUSTOMERS!”

Rex hastily scurried off and came back with lots of fabrics he’d been holding onto from various stores, all from his travels with his friends. He usually used them to give to his Blades, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Zeke didn’t even notice his approach, the corpulent man continuing to stuff his face even more with the “samples” provided by Gorg. Placing a massive quilt over Zeke’s ever-growing lap, Rex heard a strange creaking noise as he did so. Creaking… and then… splintering wood?

“Oh, that can’t be good.” the Aegis Driver thought to himself, right before an ominous cracking noise came from under Zeke’s monumentally-sized ass. A split second later, the morbidly obese prince plummeted to the ground, his landing causing the entire area to shake as his considerable bulk hit the floor. Blinking slowly, Zeke looked around at all the awestruck onlookers, then to Rex, who was next to him looking concerned, to Nia, who was standing a fair distance away trying not to burst out laughing, and finally down to himself. He couldn’t even see past the rolls of fat that made up his massive round stomach anymore, so he wasn’t aware of his missing trousers. He felt a chill breeze hitting his back and shoulders, alerting him to the fact that his favorite coat was no more, and his entire upper half was devoid of clothing as well now. The rotund man realized that his arms were now so swaddled with fat that he couldn’t properly bend them anymore, and he also couldn’t put them down at his sides due to the abundance of flabby side rolls and his oversized moobs getting in the way. He also realized that his massive gut was currently pinning his legs to the ground, so he had no way of getting up onto his feet on his own.

The portly prince turned his lard-wreathed face towards his comrades, beseeching them for assistance. “Um, a little help here, chaps? Having a bit of a predicament with standing up, you know.” Rex immediately grabbed one of his fat hands and started heaving upwards, while Nia made her way over to do the same with the other arm. Once he was standing, it was quite apparent to all just how much Zeke had grown during this “marketing exercise” today. His massively round stomach now drooped down to the middle of his calves, the lowest roll dangling just a few inches off the ground. His fat-covered arms and legs were beginning to absorb his hands and feet respectively, both being gradually sunken into the lardy rolls of his arms and legs. The massive pillow sized biceps on his arms, which stuck out at an angle because of his moobs and love handles, were now extra apparent as the reason for his inability to lower them fully anymore. His good eye was in a permanent squint, due to the fat of his cheeks now forming a drooping set of jowls on his face. His double chin had graduated to a full-sized triple chin, and his neck was no longer visible at all, completely absorbed by rolls upon rolls of fat. His rear was covered in massive rolls of back fat, which would probably make it so he would never be able to lie on his back again. His flabby, shapeless ass cheeks drooped nearly as far as his gut when standing, most of the fat seeping out from under his overburdened boxers.

Wheezing after the exertion of just standing up, the mountainously obese man addressed the crowd of observers. “Huff… huff… ahem. As you can all see, Gorg’s Just Desserts are the best desserts you can find this side of Alrest! So go on over and buy some for yourselves!”

As the crowd dispersed to go rush over to the dessert shop, Zeke turned his round face as best as he could to address Nia and Rex. “Now, if you chaps’ll excuse me, I should probably go sleep this off at the inn.” He began slowly waddling the short distance to the building, his flab jiggling and slapping against itself the entire time. Rex and Nia stood transfixed by the hypnotic sway of his pendulous ass cheeks as he inched each tree trunk thigh forward step by step, the lower rolls of his gut slapping against his flabby ankles every time. His labored wheezing could be heard by anyone in a 100 foot radius, but no one seemed to pay the pudgy prince any mind. Nia turned to Rex, a smirk forming on her face. “D’you reckon he can even fit through the door to the inn at this point?”

Zeke von Genbu spent the entire afternoon and evening of the grand opening of his trusted Blade’s dessert shop sleeping off his food coma in his rented bedroom at the inn. He awoke with a start when there was a rapping at his door, blearily opening his eye to see pale moonlight filtering through the window. His insatiable stomach let out a loud rumble as he woke, and he called out to the door, “Who is it? If you don’t have food, you can bugger off!”

The bedroom door opened, revealing Gorg pushing a trolley cart loaded with desserts from his shop. The water Blade smiled at his blob of a Driver, watching him heave his considerable bulk into a sitting position on his bed, panting with the effort of doing even just that. He’s absolutely massive now… He must be getting close to 800 pounds, maybe even more than that! Gorg thought to himself, before wheeling the cart of desserts over to right beside his Prince’s bedside .

“What’s all this, then, chum?” Zeke asked, a look of confusion upon his flabby face. His apron of a belly was just beginning to push up to his toes when he laid down, and Gorg couldn’t help but notice how soft and comfortable his chest and tummy looked. The Blade cleared his mind and spoke up. “Well, because of your PR for the shop today, my debut as a patissier was a massive success! So I figured I’d bring you a thank you gift so we could celebrate my grand opening… together!”

Zeke’s overstuffed sausage fingers scratched at one of his highest love handle rolls, the only part of his enormous body he could still reach with his pillowy arms. “That’s great news, Gorg! But, ah, how am I supposed to eat all this when I can barely move my arms to grab any of the food with my arms this size?” Gorg didn’t use any words, but instead used action to answer the Prince’s question. Grabbing a tray of cakes, the athletic Blade scrambled up the rolls of Zeke’s belly, perching on his massive, cushiony breasts, and shoved a cake directly in between his plump lips. Zeke let out a muffled exclamation of surprise which promptly turned into a moan of pleasure as he tasted the cake. Gorg must have made it special for him, as its flavor was unlike any he had ever tasted before in his life. The one-eyed prince and his loyal Blade stayed up all night, Gorg stuffing more and more desserts into his Driver’s mouth as Zeke grew rounder, fatter, heavier, bigger, all because of his trusted companion. At one point during the night, the bed completely gave way under the immense weight perched upon it, but neither of its occupants cared; they just kept eating and feeding, Zeke crossing the threshold into complete immobility.

Local Urayan gossip spoke of the Blade-owned desserts shop and the massive house of its owner. Strange loud noises could often be heard emanating from it, but no one knew what it was. Many assumed it was a ghost or a pet or something, but in reality, it was the former Prince of Tantal, Zeke von Genbu. The man had reached full-on blob status thanks to a constant feeding schedule of desserts baked by Gorg,his Blade. His massive body filled an entire large room on its own, his shapeless ass cheeks and countless stomach rolls pressing against the walls of his quarters. His thighs as thick as couches now, dimpled with rolls of lard all over their massive expanse, were forced even further apart by his mountainous belly, which seeped in the space between his thighs with no effort whatsoever. His hands and feet had long ago been swallowed up by the flab encasing his appendages, his body a shapeless mass of rolls and fat that showed no signs of ever once being human at all. That is, unless you could find his head in all the expanse, the easiest way to do so being to listen for the sounds of eating and heavy breathing. Nestled between two enormous flabby jowls, an uncountable array of chins and neck rolls, and an expanse of back rolls that threatened to cascade over his head any day now, was a mop of silvery hair atop a comparably minuscule face adorned with one eye patch. The spoiled Prince’s face was always covered in small smears of frosting and crumbs from the Blade-powered conveyor belt of desserts built to deliver directly to his greedy mouth at all hours of the day, his blobby body growing ever larger every day. This was of course why Gorg purchased such a large house for just two occupants: so he could freely knock down any walls or ceilings needed to give his cherished Driver room to further grow.

#weight gain #male weight gain #ssbhm #my writing #fat!xenoblade

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christineeej94 · 4 years

Text

Him❤

a/n: hello my loves. I’m writing this from work, on my night shift. I’m such a baddie (I’m joking, don’t take me serious.). So, here it is, the next request.Thank you for your support.❤ Stay safe and great. Kisses🌻

The request:

Anonymous said:

Can you write an Aron Piper imagine where his gf (the reader) is ex-girlfriend of Lorenzo Zurzolo (he plays Niccolo on Baby on Netflix) and they bump into each other while they’re at Milan Fashion Week & Aron’s jealous and protective side comes out which she finds hot asf, with some smut please :) Your writing is amazing I love your blog

warnings:smut or sexual content (+18), bad language and bad writing

word count: 2.115

Arón Piper x Reader

♠♠♠♠♠

I put my hands around his torso and I move my fingers on his hard body with slow moves. He moans and that’s turning me on. Our view is Milan Dome and the sun is rising beautifully. I can see some people walking in the morning on the empty streets with a coffee in their hands and very busy with their thoughts. Arón skin is feeling hot under my touch, his muscles are hard and the gold light is hitting our bodies. “Milan is beautiful.” I can hear Arón voice and I don’t know if I’m dreaming or not. Being here with him is a unique moment, visiting my hometown and, also, being here for Fashion Week. Me and Arón met a year ago while I was in a vacation in Marbella. It was a group vacation, I was with my group of friends which also came with other friends.

Flashback

It’s lunch time and we are taking it at a nice restaurant on the beach. The warm breeze is touching my naked skin and my short dress is flowing from the wind. My best friend, Mina, drags me to follow her through the tables until we stopped in front of a giant table of 24 seats. We were late because I wanted to buy a special swimsuit and I didn’t stop till I found it. “Here, it’s an empty seat next to Arón and another one next to Momo.” Miguel said and Mina jumped next to Momo, I know she has a crush on him. I walk and I sit next to the beautiful boy who’s gazing me since we arrived. “Hi” I feel his hot breath next to my ear and electric lines pass my body. I think my face is red right now. I look around and everyone is talking with someone, no one remark my red face. “Hi.” I really like him and I know him from a long time because I going every week on Élite set to visit Mina. I moved in Spain 5 months ago because I received a better job at an agency in Madrid. My parents agreed but my ex-boyfriend is so pissed on me. He thought that I will be forever with him and we will live in Italy. I take the decision but I wasn’t moved when I found he cheated on me. It was a horrible feeling, after so many years together, he done this thing.

“What are you thinking at?” Arón pinched my arm and I turn around to see everybody looking at me and the waiter waiting for my order. “Sorry, I lost my mind for a minute. Caprese salad and water with lime.” I smiled and the waiter rolled his eyes. “So rude.” I comment and Arón laughs. “Yeah, he is rude. He waited for you.” I smiled innocent and I fix big hand with my eyes. “Answer my question. What is bothering you?” “It’s a good time, we shouldn’t talk about this right now. But we can talk about how beautiful is Spain.” “I think we should talk how gorgeous are you.” He puts his on my leg and I got goosebumps instantly. I blushed and he smiled. He couldn’t say anything cause our food came. But he didn’t take his hand off my leg.

After the lunch it’s time for party and we got back at the house we rented. I went in my room and I put one my new bikini and I went down stairs. I sit next to Arón on the lounge chair by the pool and I started to apply some shimmer oil on my body. The curly boy looks like he is sleeping and I he is wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the bright sun. I get up and I test the water from the pool with my tip toes. “Watch out!” I heard a yell behind me and I want to turn around but my body collapsed and something heavy is throwing me and him in the water. I swim to the top and some strong arms caught me and sealed me in a tight hug. “I thought you were sleeping.” He smiled and that cute dimple is everything to melt my heart. “I was observing you. You look delicious.” I want to say something to him too but he seals my mouth with his wet lips. I can taste a cigarette flavor and some mint gum. My hands play with his wet curls and hands are holding my ass. We stopped after a while, breathing heavily and looking in each other eyes. “That was intense.” I said and he smirks. “You didn’t see anything yet. Let’s get out of here.” Arón kissed me again.

End of flashback

We stepped out of the water I know that my life is going to change. I feel his warm lips on my cold skin and I adore the feeling. He goes down on my back with a lot of kisses and he stopped when his mouth met my short pj pants. “Bend on the bed.” He ordered and I nodded excited. He gave me a kiss before I execute his command and his hands are taking off my pants. I feel his hot breath on my private aria. I thought at what he is going to do and I moaned. “Easy, pussycat, you are too excited. Do you want me there?” “Yes baby, I want you all.” I replied mumbling. When he licked my clit, I scream surprised and I couldn’t stop my moans. I tighten in my hands the sheets. “¡Joder!” I cursed and I feel his smile on my sensitive aria. “I love when you try to speak in Spanish, but I adore when you cursed in Spanish.” He giggles and he turn me on the bed, now we can look in each other eyes. “Stop laughing and fuck me.” I command and he stopped. “Uh, baby, you are killing me. My bossy wifey.” Arón giggled and he pushed his hard erection in me. I gasped and I slammed my head on pillows. He is teasing my nipples with his fingers and he is pushing harder and harder inside me. My interior is tightening around him and that make him moan and groan.

From the moment when we start our relationship, he told me that every morning is better if it starts with a good morning sex. I can say it´s one of the best mornings I had in the last 4 days. We were so stressed about this trip. One reason is because Arón is going to meet my family and second one is because we are going to appear in our first catwalk together. My agency asked me before the fashion week if we want to make an appearance at Balenciaga catwalk, they are launching a new collection for couples and they offered Arón a post. He is kinda nervous but I got this. “Baby, you are thinking too much again.” He comes closer to me and we seal our naked bodies. Arón smells like a fresh morning on the beach. His shower gel is very fresh and I can smell his strong parfum. “I’m always thinking too much. How are you feeling for tonight?” “I little bit nervous but I know that you will be next to me. I love you.” He rubs his nose on my shoulder and I love this feeling. “I love you too, amore.” I place a kiss on his cheeks and now I’m thinking at him. He is a different person beside the person which everybody sees on the internet.

“I’m going to make some breakfast, what do you want?” I asked while I’m putting his t-shirt on my body. He is gazing me and I blushed. Arón smirks and I rolled my eyes. “Give me a break.” I said joking and he acts hurt, putting a hand on his chest like I hurt him. “We don’t need food, I have you, you have me. That’s all what we need. No one counts right now.” He smiled and I came closer to give him a kiss. “Pancakes then.” I said and I laugh. “You are like the Ice Queen.” He mumbled and take out a cigarette, putting between his lips. I love to watch him smoking, it’s so hot.

We arriving at the event and we do some photos before going inside. I can see a lot of celebrities and we go to the backstage to get ready. Makeup artists, designers and a lot of people spin around as and we went on separate ways to get dressed. After 2 hours we met in the waiting room, me and him are entering in 3 minutes. “We are looking good as fuck.” I said happy and my eyes are dressing up my boyfriend. He is looking too sexy to be real. Arón winked to me and we take our hands together, walking on podium and smiling to the cameras and the crowd. We posed and going back in the backstage. “Amazing, amazing.” The people in backstage applauded everybody and we get ready for the after party.

We got as a gift our outfits and Arón hold an interview before the after party. At the party a lot of people came to us, changing some words and go. Arón went to the bar to bring some drinks for us and I stayed alone at the table. The chair next to me moved and I look at the person who wants to sit on it. Lorenzo look deeply into my eyes and I look at him surprised.

“(Y/N), I was so surprised when I saw you on the runway with Piper.” He spoke and I look in other direction. I can’t believe he is here now. My heart beat so fast and my cheeks got so red. I’m nervous but not because I’m glad to see him. Yeah, I loved him so much, but right now I don’t know what to feel about him. “We are together.” I respond simple and I look after my boyfriend. I don’t know how he will react. “So, how’s your life in Spain? Don’t you miss the pasta or me?” I look at him surprised and I wanted to respond something ugly, like a bad word, like Arón used to say to me “You are a bon-bon, don’t use bad words.”. “We have everything we need in Spain. She had a lot of pasta and a lot of great sex with me and wonderful time with me.” Arón said from behind and I froze. Fuck. Lorenzo looked at him smirking, then his perfect smile disappears. Arón is a very intimidating person when he is serious and, right now, he is serious, a little bit furious and jealous. His hands are holding tight the glasses and his eyes are black. Arón and Lorenzo know each other from a campaign and now I can see that’s why my ex couldn’t support my actual boyfriend. They are very different and you can see this. “Like you can fuck her after your gay experience.” Lorenzo attacks and Arón face is red from fury. “I don’t cheat on her like you did. Now move your ass.” His voice is strong and I feel his jealousy. He is sexier than before. His hair is messier and his black gaze is taking off my clothes. I get up and I slammed my lips on Arón lips, letting Lorenzo watching our show. “Let’s get out of here.” I whisper and he grins. “Bye Lorenzo.” I said quickly and don’t remember when I got in a bathroom.

Arón unlock the door and I’m raising my skirt. I supported my hands on the sink and I looked in the mirror to meet Arón horny gaze. “You are a straight line to death to me, princesa.” I bite my lip excited and I said on a lower voice. “I like you jealous, horny, serious. I like you in every way.” He penetrated me furiously and he grab my hair, pulling hard my head on the back. His moves make me cum quickly but he continues to fuck me. My walls tight around his dick and I feel him big and hard, pumping and making me moan every time. I know he want to rip of Lorenzo head and I know this is the best way to calm his blood. “I want you forever.” I said and he grins, pushing harder and harder. “I know it’s not a proper time, but I want you too.” He pulls harder my hair and whisper into my ear. “I wanted you more than everything.”

#aron piper #aron piper x reader #aron piper x y/n #aron imagine #aron x reader #elite #baby #lorenzo zurzolo

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