#she just did a tiny lil head dip

[ilys00ga]

𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 1k

➞ synopsis: "yoongi and reader making a meal together for yoongi's parents" with a little bit of a domestic twist.

➞ genre: established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, just fluffy fluff fluff, they cook together, dad!yoongi, nothing goes wrong, dad!yoongi, just pure happiness, they also call it tooth-rotting fluff lol, did I mention: DAD!YOONGI ???, they have a babygirl uwu <33

➞ A/N: first off, thank u anon for sending me this super cute prompt, I loved it and had sm fun writing it!! second, EID MUBARAK TO MY FELLOW MUSLIMS OUT THEREEE <3 this is my lil gift for yall on this eid. it wasn't supposed to be this long tbh, and I haven't written anything for over a month, so, sorry if this is kind of messy and all over the place??? im trying to get my sht together again. but I really liked the prompt and!!! had to write it!!!! kkk enjoy bbys <3

ps. any form of feedback is reallyyyy appreciated. I live for compliments :) !

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It was one warm spring morning.

Yoongi was back from a long series of concerts just a couple of days ago. Grateful to be finally home with the two people that mean the absolute world to him. Your cat was purring on his chest as the two of you laid on the bed, enjoying the quiet of Saturday that had just begun, when his mother called to announce that, later that evening, she and his father would be coming over.

One thing led to another, and there you stood with your husband in the kitchen. One was chopping ingredients up by the stove, the other handling a mixer. Your two years old baby girl, Nara, was sitting in her high chair somewhere away from the oven and any other harmful thing. What used to be your favorite playlists playing ever so softly in the background as you fixed yourselves your favorite meals, together, was replaced with the mindless blabbering of your sweet baby girl instead, playing with the wooden spoon you had given her to play with some minutes before.

“Is this good?” Yoongi dipped the tip of his finger into the mixture he’s been working on, and carefully brought it up to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction as soon as the flavors hit your taste buds, a little bit taken aback at how he nailed your mother’s secret recipe only in the first try, “Great. You’re getting so good at this, Yoonie. I think you should take over kitchen duties very soon.”

He snorted, “If that means I’ll never have to do the laundry ever again, then sure.”

Feigning annoyance, you hissed at him, “You’re so lazy.”

“No one likes doing laundry, honey. Not even you.”

"You're so annoying."

Your daily bickering banters were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing from the other room. He left to take the call, leaving you with your noisy little baby. The chef hat she had on her head–Yoongi's idea, by the way, along with the tiny apron she wore as well–was almost too big on her. It made her look a thousand times more adorable that you immediately started grinning and cooing when she looked up at you.

"And what about you chef? Are you having fun?"

She balled her fists up and raised them in the air, wiggling in her seat to let you know that she wanted to be picked up. Being the ever so whipped mom that you were, you scooped her up in your arms right away, and peppered kisses all over her chubby face. Her giggles seeped through your skin and locked into your bones, aching with a sickeningly utmost adoration.

“Mom said they’re almost here.” Said Yoongi upon entering the kitchen, putting his phone atop the table and smiling as soon as his eyes fell on the two of you—his girls.

“Are you being a good chef assistant, baby?” He cooed, kissing her cheek, then leaning in to leave a peck on your lips.

“She’s been blabbering her life off the whole time you were gone." you hummed.

“Mom is going to have a good time conversing with her this evening.”

“We’re almost done cooking now.” You reminded him, “Honey, check on the oven please.”

“Right.”

A wave of heat hit his face as soon as he opened the oven, but he smiled once he checked on the muffins, “they are done.”

When he took the tray out and swiftly put it on the counter, Nara erupted in a fit of loud blabber, flailing the arm that clutched on the wooden spoon in the air and almost smacking your face in the process.

It had your husband giggling, of course. He couldn’t help but join in and engage with her blather, how could he not when he got such an adorable chatterbox for a child? “Huh, Nini? The muffins are done! Yeah!”

He took her into his arms, allowing you to go check on the stewpot that was still boiling on the stove, before bringing her to have a look at the tray of the mouth watering muffins, and cheered, “look!”

Your heart, yet again, swooned, almost oozing out of your ribs with how tight your chest grew to be at the sound of your baby’s joyful squeals. She was all excited as her daddy showed her around the process of cooking the dinner for her grandparents.

Nara was having the time of her life. For some reason, she's always loved being in the kitchen. Yoongi once made a comment about her becoming a successful chef, which then turned into a long, heartwarming talk about your daughter and her future. The gentle smile Yoongi had on his face throughout that was one to die for, especially when he sulked about not wanting your babygirl to grow up. His pout was so intense, you ended up engulfing him in a bone crushing hug for almost half an hour.

It was moments like this one that you wished were pictures so you could cut them up and hide them. Somewhere deep inside your heart. Forever. That's how you often found yourself observing and admiring every single interaction your husband made with your baby, and that’s how you ended up listening attentively as he continued to talk so passionately and earnestly with her, while simultaneously attempting to work with his free arm to the best of his abilities.

She, at one point, got so ecstatic that she accidentally thrusted her arm forward and hit him in the face with that spoon. But he only turned to look at you with an affectionate smile.

Struggling through a fit of giggles, you slipped the wooden object from her grasp and gave her a big kiss; making sure to squish her doughy cheeks—a trait that she definitely got from her father, “No more hitting mama and papa for you!”

The little girl’s squeaks only got louder as she reached out with her arms towards you, addressing you with more words of her very own and special language.

“Family hug?” you asked, glancing at a grinning Yoongi.

“Family hug!” He wrapped his free arm around you, bringing your body closer so that Nara could get a hold of you as well, then added, “but let’s make it a short one or else my parents are going to come to a burnt dinner.”

[sakuraszn]

— DATE NIGHT ! ₊ ⊹

starring : e!42 miles morales (aged up)

word count : 869 | somewhat proofread.

synopsis : you and miles been dating for 9 months but recently you two haven’t gotten a chance to spend some quality time together because of his job but that quickly goes away until now..

warnings/notes : minimal cursing, fluff, a lil suggestive?, just a whole lotta lovey dovey stuff goin on here soo if you don’t like it then I suggest you exit stage left 💁🏾‍♀️. btw the reader doesn’t know that miles is the prowler yet, all she knows is that he has some job that has something to do with “helping people” just to let you guys know. miles is 17 in the fic as well!!

my babyyyy!♾️ :

be ready in an hour, i’m coming to pick you up

and wear sumn fancy !

you got that text an hour ago and your leg bounced up and down in anticipation. what could he be up to? you wanted to question him at the time but knowing him he likes to surprise you and most likely would tell you to ‘just wait and see’

so now here you are in your cozy bedroom, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your skin. you stand in front of a mirror, your reflection staring back at you as you make sure you look good. you cannot stop the way your eyes sparkle with expectancy as you start applying some more lip gloss.

buzz.

you whip your head to where your phone vibrates on your vanity and make your way towards it as you unlock it and see it’s a text from no other than your boyfriend Miles.

my babyyyy!♾️ :

I’m outside. come open the door.

you could’ve sworn your heart dropped to your ass when you got that message. you don’t know why but your heart starts beating faster than usual, as if it's doing a little dance inside your chest and a million tiny butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, creating a swirling sensation. taking a deep breath you sigh and make your way towards the door.

The soft clicks of your heels echo in the room. you takes one last deep breath, you grabbed the door handle, and open it wide open.

and there he was.

Miles standing there at the front door, a warm smile lighting up his face. In his hands, he holds a breathtaking bouquet of flowers, a vibrant burst of colors that captivates the eye. The bouquet is carefully arranged, with delicate roses and babies breath coming together to create a stunning display.

his eyes racks your body up and down as he licks his lips slowly. His heart beats a little faster, knowing that you’re his. the way that dress hugs your figure perfectly, how you did your hair, those elegant heels, and your beautiful face looking up at him in shock. His legs almost buckled at the mere sight of you.

“damnn, look at you mami. tú ves absolutamente hermosa..” he says finally reverting his roaming eyes to yours. you cannot help the smile spreading across your face. (you look absolutely beautiful.)

“thank you baby, and you look handsome.” he was wearing a sleek white dress shirt with black dress pants with a pair of shiny dress shoes that completed the polished look, mind you, this isn’t his style but he tried his best.

he handed you the bouquet and your eyes started to water.

“Miles…these are absolutely beautiful,” you say as you admire the beautiful display of flowers that are cradling in your arms.

he pulls you in by the waist as he rests his hand on the dip of your back and kisses your cheek, “we haven’t been able to get some alone time since I’ve been really busy lately with work so, I took it upon myself to take you out to dinner and spoil you a bit.”

you look up to him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to your body, both bodies are drawn together, feeling the warmth and closeness. you two both locked in an intense gaze. As you lean in closer, his and your hearts race with anticipation, and your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss, filled with a mix of desire and affection. You feel Miles’s hands creep down and squeeze your butt.

You pull away from the kiss removing his hands from your body.

“Boy, what I tell you about your hands roaming.” you sighed

He raised his hands in defense, “My bad, it won’t happen again.”

“sure, it won’t,” you side-eyed your boyfriend and made your way to the kitchen counter with him following pursuit as he closes the door behind him. you put the flowers in an empty vase and put some water in there to keep the flowers hydrated.

“seriously though, thanks for this baby. I really missed you and I understand that you’re busy with your work but it would be nice for us to spend more time together.” you say turning around to face him.

“I know, I know,” he comes up to you and takes your hand, “I promise that I will try my very hardest to make my girl satisfied.” your knuckles made their way to his lips as he kissed them softly.

“Now, it’s time for us to go. I reserved our seats at that new restaurant that opened up in downtown New, York. So, we gotta get going.” he simply states as he grabs your purse that was sitting on the counter and holds it for you.

“really?! the one that just opened up last week??” you squeal. you’ve been dying to go there, people have been talking about it for the last few days and you wanted to see what the whole hype was about.

he hummed in agreement.

“god, I love you miles.”

“and I love you more, mi princesa.”

© SAKURASZN !

[gloryy-vs]

hii! can i request a neteyam x metkayina!reader where she’s really quiet/shy (being closer to kiri and tuk) and doesn’t think he notices her a lot, but neteyam is actually very attentive of her and one day he confesses about this in a maybe fluffy/personal moment? i’m sorry if this sounds confusing and thank you in advance. <3

Those Ocean Eyes

|| AS YOU WISH. sorry if it isn’t as good but again, NOT PROOF READ i’m a lil lazy and just woke up

characters: neteyam x metkayina!reader

ratings: SFW , fluffy soft shit , aonung being a butt , neteyam being protective , reader bein all timid 🤭

||

Kiri dipped into the water first, playing around with the sea creatures and Tuk was around collecting shells. Sitting down in the sand, Neteyam and Lo’ak sat on the beach rock next to you and their sisters. You made small drawings in the sand, glancing over to Neteyam occasionally who seemed to be engrossed in Lo’ak talking about his Tulkun.

Each time you looked away, Neteyam glanced at you. Still paying attention to his younger brother talking about his adventures today. You frowned in annoyance, seeing Rotxo and Aonung heading towards you and the Sully’s smugly. Before you knew it, Lo’ak dropped down first much to Neteyams dislike. You kept still, hoping it wouldn’t turn into a fight again, while Aonung was already picking on Lo’ak for his ‘demon blood’. They both tarted pushing each other around, Aonung being right in front of you and honestly he was losing. He kept getting pushed into you, while you struggled getting up in the sand that kept fighting against you. Guess like you were losing too.

Neteyam scowled, dropping down from the rock and hoisting you up carefully, pushing you behind him. “Ay, Skxawngs. Watch where the hell you’re fighting. You could’ve crushed her.” He said with a booming voice. Dusting you off and holding your shoulder protectively. Aonung huffed a small laugh, turning around to say some more bullshit, “If you like her just say that forest boy, she’ll never wanna be your mate anyway-“

Neteyam pushed him back with a strong force, and Aonung tumbled back. Holding his arm out to stop Rotxo. “I said leave, now bro.” Neteyam said before pushing them off into the opposite direction again. You were embarrassed at the mention of you in the conversation. Yet you failed to notice how upset Neteyam got, his breathing growing quick and heavy with annoyance. “You alright?” He asked you, patting the side of your head. You nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing i’m not used to around those morons.” You took the first step back, feeling like your heart would explode if you stayed. Tuk came back, along with Kiri. Both of them were ragging you away. reading to make their necklaces with all the shells they ended up finding. You wanted to speak to Neteyam more, but he was already turned around to scold Lo’ak gently.

..

You weaved through the shells intricately, do sucking on each pattern you tried to make. Big shell, medium shell, tiny shells. You hoped Neteyam would find the necklace flattering, and would appreciate it. The salty wind came through, nearly blowing away your vines and leaves. Before you could react s blue hand pressed them down before picking them up and plopping down next to you in the sand.

It was Neteyam. “Ay, that necklace for me?” He said teasingly, his thigh pressing against you. It was like he had no sense of personal space, not that you minded but you thought it was cute.

“Actually it is, it was supposed to be a surprise.” You laid the necklace into the sand, slowly lowering your hands. Neteyam did the same with all the materials, digging up a place to safely put your hard earned vines. Your bright teal eyes met his gold ones, and he smiled, it could show in his eyes too. Your thoughts kept getting louder, yearning for his affection more and more. Even though you were so timid and shy, you were sure his affection could only be platonic, you were always to yourself, or with his little sisters. Introverted like Kiri was, but as playful as Tuk when it came to the right people.

You dropped your hands into your lap. Holding your breath.

“I need to tell you something,”

“I need to tell you something.”

You both laughed, his teeth showing a lot from the coincidence. “Alright, me first.” He said eagerly, not even waiting for a retort. Neteyams body turned to face yours more, the ocean just barely touching the two of you.

Before he started he noticed the glisten in your eyes, how pretty they looked when the sun was setting. “You’re a gentle girl. There’s this soft light about you, always so caring. Helping us learn the ways of the water people, even though you’re so shy, you were the first to talk to me.” Neteyam placed his hand onto your thigh, reassuringly. His heart was beating as fast as yours.

“I see you. I really do. Everything about you. Even those pretty ocean eyes.” He said, leaning in a little.

Your heart almost dropped to your ass, mouth slightly agape from the compliments he showered you with. He noticed your sincerity, and even admitted to loving the shy and introverted bits. You took his hand, crawling into his arms and he welcomed you eagerly. “I’ve never had someone say that. I was drawn to you the moment I saw you Neteyam.” The moment was very heartfelt, both of you pouring your emotions out just from the tight embrace. “I…see you too, Neteyam. I always did.” He held you tighter, a warm feeling washing over him as the waves engulfed you to up to the waist. Neither of you minded, as you both laid in the sand, holding onto each other.

[caroldantops]

heat lightning

ship: monica rambeau x reader

summary/request:  monica deals with having to see carol again. you help distract her. (inspired by this ask, but is much softer than expected)

word count: 858

warnings: smut (18+ only), fluff and a tiny hint of angst from monica, vaginal fingering (reader receiving), lil bit of marking kink

please do not mark with community label - warnings are listed above and smut is under the cut.

masterlist | ao3 link

“I just don’t understand why she’s acting like she did nothing wrong.” Monica slams the fridge shut. You flinch at the sudden noise, and she gives you an apologetic look. She’s been like this since she got home. Since she saw Carol again for the first time in who knows how many years. “Like, I get it. Duty calls. The universe needs a hero. But you’re telling me she can show up to fight Thanos, but making a trip to visit us when mom was…Sorry. I know you’re tired of hearing it.”

“Monica,” you reach out for her from your spot sitting on the counter. She moves to stand between your legs, wrapping her arms around your waist. You’re only wearing underwear and one of her S.W.O.R.D. t-shirts, so it’s easy for her to rub circles into your sides with her thumbs, a soothing motion that’s almost second nature to her. “You know I’m here for you for anything, right?”

“Of course. Of course, I know that.”

“And that includes listening to you vent about Carol for the umpteenth time. But…” Monica sighs, knowing what’s coming. Fury’s already lectured her on being civil. “You two are linked whether you like it or not, now. So, until we figure out what the hell is going on, you’re gonna have to play nice.”

“I know, babe. I’m not gonna drag it out.”

“I didn’t think you would, but I just have to say it. Look on the bright side, maybe you’ll have a wonderfully teary reconciliation.”

Monica rolls her eyes, shoving your shoulder a bit as she steps out of your arms. She seems at least a little more at ease now - or at the very least not slamming things anymore. You follow her like a lost puppy as she moves into the living room to the couch. She raises an eyebrow at you as you wait for her to sit down before you straddle her lap, plopping yourself down on her plush thighs.

“Can I help you?”

“What? Can’t I innocently sit in my girlfriend's lap?”

“Knowing you, no.”

“I just thought that you might want a nice distraction,” you mumble, dipping your head to press your lips against Monica’s jaw. She sighs, hands coming up to glide up your bare thighs. You kiss your way up to her lips and whisper against them. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” she whispers back, capturing her lips with her own. You groan against her mouth as she deepens the kiss, tongue swiping into your mouth. Monica allows you to have the upper hand for a few minutes, moaning as you suck on her tongue and nibble at her bottom lips. All of that control quickly leaves as soon as her hand cups you over your underwear, smiling into the kiss as she plays with the damp material. “Wet for me already?”

You manage to nod as she rubs up and down along your slit, admiring how quickly you start soaking through the fabric. “More…”

“Someone’s greedy.”

Before you can react, Monica maneuvers so that you’re pinned against the couch, staring up at her. She tugs down your underwear and pulls your shirt up over your tits, leaving open mouthed kisses in her wake before latching onto one of your nipples. You yelp as she bites down, tugging in a way that makes your back arch. Suddenly, she’s pushing two fingers inside of you, curling them just right so you jerk your hips against her.

Monica’s quieter than usual today, not praising you through each thrust like she normally would. She’s instead hyper focused on leaving bruises and bite marks all over your chest and stomach, marking you as her own. She grinds herself against your thigh as she works you up, flustered moans lost against your skin. At some point the heat from your bodies moving together is too much for her to stay clothed, so she pauses to tug off her clothes and finally pulls your shirt over your head and tosses them on the floor.

It doesn’t take much time for her to squeeze a third, and then fourth, finger into you, pausing only to admire the way that you’re soaking her hand with each push and pull of her digits inside of you.

Your climax comes slowly, instead of crashing waves it creeps up and fades gently like the tide against sand. Monica stops leaving bruises over your body so she can kiss you again, sighing as she cums against your thigh from the sight of you falling apart and clenching around her fingers.

You both pant into each others’ mouths as she slumps against you, body melting against yours. You rub her back, tracing shapes along her skin. Monica is so quiet that you almost think that she’s fallen asleep, but her lips kissing your neck tell you otherwise.

“Thanks,” she mumbles against you.

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Being good to me.”

“Any time,” you smile, kissing her temple. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Great. You order food, I’ll pick a show to watch?”

“Fine, but no sitcoms.”

“I know, I know.”

[streaminn]

This can be for after you’ve got rest and don’t feel burnt out!

T&T - how would Enid react if she were to walk into class to see that Joel took her regular seat next to Wednesday?

"hey," is the only warning Enid gives as she stands right infront of him. The look she has is unamused as she looks down at the intruder "you're on my seat."

Wednesday pauses in her reading and Enid can see the way she stills and begins to watch her from the corner of her eye.

There's an itch in Enid's chest when Joel gives a beaming smile at her, his arm is too close to her seatmate, her roomie.

Did Wednesday not..?

No.

Wednesday never let's others sit with her, atleast not willingly so did she simply allow this Aidenn scu- the realization that Wednesday simply let this be hurts, it stings at her heart and it makes Enid tense her jaw.

"sorry sorry," Joel laughs, waving his hand. "I just wanted to catch up and since the seat was empty.."

There is no one talking in the classroom and Enid can feel the way they stare, waiting for a reaction.

So Enid rolls her shoulders and bares her teeth right back. It looks like a smile, it's anything but that. "No worries," she chirps and her hand reaches over to Wednesday, an offering. "I think you need the seat closer to the front anyways, considering that you have glasses."

Something warm curls in Enid when Wednesday dips her head in such a way that she knows is a sigh before folding her book and shouldering her bag.

Good, Enid thinks and her fingers tighten around the cold hand of her Wednesday. I didn't know what I'd do if Wednesday decided to be stubborn and stay with him.

He's saying something and Enid honestly doesn't have enough fucks to tune him in, so she watches his cheap attempts at waving goodbye.

Pathetic, he's floundering like a fish out of water.

It reminds her so much of someone. The way he shifts and fidgets, it's annoying.

We could make his sight worse? It giggles and Enid's fingers twitch. A lil slice across the eyes, so he can't see anymore opportunities..

Maybe next time, Enid notes as she leads Wednesday to the emptier seats in the back. There's disappointment after her words and groans of killjoy! And you're no fun float around her head.

When they're all done and settles, Enid watches the way Wednesday props up her book once more, somehow finding her page without a bookmark. They aren't holding hands anymore, the shorter girl having let go and already the wolf misses it.

"what was your convo?" Enid prods, always so nosy. Does he excite you, Wednesday? Is spineless men your type? Tell me dear, tell me all.

Wednesday doesn't answer any of that. Instead she huffs through her nose and slams her book shut to give a piercing stare. She's beautiful like this, when her brows are a tiny bit furrowed and she looks like she's frustrated.

What a pretty roomie Enid has.

"next time," Wednesday starts. "arrive sooner so I don't have to entertain such happenstance."

Enid leans close, crossing her arms on the table to bump it towards Wednesday. She doesn't move back because ofcourse she doesn't, Enid is special. She's already accepted her and there's no take backs!

Enid is aware that someone is staring at them.

"just say you missed me Wends." finally there's a smile on the wolf's face and everything is right where it should be.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wednesday lies, fixing her posture in a way that it pushes against Enid.

Blue eyes flicker to the upset frown of Joel Glicker and Enid shrugs, her lips pulling up to showcase teeth as she reached over for Wednesday's hand.

She didn't need to do a thing before their fingers intertwine.

[weiila]

It has been literal YEARS since I had a new story idea banging around inside my head before I even finished one already in the making, so here's a lil' taste of what I'll write next.

'cause I had so much fun writing it and ya'll seemed to enjoy snobby Ars Goetia vs Ozzie in A Small Flame, mwahahaha.

“Good evening, darling,” the noble demon drawled in a sing-song voice, the fine silks of her dress swishing dangerously close to the boxes that Fizz hid behind. She paused and just smirked at thin air. “You owe me a penthouse in Envy.”

The dismayed shriek from the phone was muffled, but just barely audible. The lady turned her head away from the phone, smirk widening even more. Whoever she was talking to seemed to go a brief rant, but it was cut short when the caller spoke again.

“Of course I got proof!” The noblewoman turned the phone towards her face and Fizz saw the screen lit up as she turned on video chat. Holding his breath he crept deeper into the corner, willing fate to not let him be spotted.

She dipped her free hand into a pocket and withdrew something.

“See?” she triumphantly said, holding the tiny item between her thumb and pointing finger in front of the phone. “Ripped it right off his back when he was… distracted.” She let out a smug little laugh that tore across Fizz’s eardrums.

His breath stuck in his throat, gaze trapped by the lady’s precious trophy - a small, deep blue feather. A sick feeling bubbled up inside of him.

“Oh fuck off!” another woman’s voice came from the phone.

“I did! It was amazing,” the dove crooned. “Really, hun, you really oughta get him too even if you lost the bet. It’s so worth it.”

A grumble from the device, and then a reluctant:

“So, are you putting it in a pendant, or?”

“Ugh, no! So old fashioned. That’s how my grandmama keeps hers. Maybe a brooch.” She laughed again as she gently stuffed the stolen feather back into the pocket and gave it a pleased pat with her perfectly manicured fingertips. “Or maybe I’ll snatch him up again and get a set of matching earrings.”

[phobiaoftickles]

THIS IS SO SHAMELESS 😍😭 HIIII

ok so you PWOBABLY know who it is (starts with an L.... ends with an iya) but I spy a certain something on your fandoms list 😀😀 this is just a prompt (general, not rlly any specifics 😭) BUTT 🍑 if it is possible could you write some original series lee!Ben with ler!Gwen I'm like I FEEL LIKE A HOBO BEGGAR FOR ASKING BUT TYSM FOR PUTTING UP W ME (I'm @trrickytickle )

Gwen the tickler

Second day having this acc and there’s alr a request? You best beilieve I’m going to do this.

Summary: Ben is being a nuisance scaring his cousin using multiple other morphs, little did he know Gwen will get her revenge!!

“Ben!! Get over here right NOW!!!!” Gwen ran after Ben after the last 5 morphs he did, popping out of no where infront of his cousin, acting like a villain, scaring the shit out of her, then morphing back to his regular self, laughing about it. And Gwen had enough.

“Uh, kids? Don’t be too reckless, don’t want you loosing an eye, and explain to your parents on how you managed to lose said eye.” Max just finished baking a batch of cookies, in which Gwen and Ben looked at the burnt cookies in disgust and continued their horse play.

Gwen went another way, in which her cousin didn’t know exsisted, and cut him off, tackling him and taking his braclet off so he won’t try to morph and get out of this very tickly situation.

“D’aw! Damn it, Gwen, can you please let your lil cousin up? For the sake of our friendship??” Ben mustered up the biggest puppy dog eyes, but it turned out to be ineffective, as Gwen didn’t give two shits.

“You’re gonna learn not to mess with me, Benjamin~” Gwen pinned his arms above his head. For someone to beable to morph into these strong monsters, he’s pretty weak. “I know something you’re terrified of the most…”

“And that is?”

“Gwen’s tickle attacks!” Gwen put Ben’s arms in one hand and teased him with the other, wriggling above his armpits.

“No!! GWEN PLEASE DON’T!! I promise I won’t scare you again, you have my woRD!! AHHAHHHHH STOP!! Don’t you dare Gwe-AHAHAHAHAH!! GWEN!!!” Ben screeched as the red head finally descended on his ticklish under arms.

“Sorry, friend, but you need to be taught a lesson on MANNERS!!” She scratched and scritched all on his armpits, going down to his sides, and wrecking them.

“Ahahahahah!! Please, stahahhap! Gwen! Please!” The transformer writhered from side to side, unable to get out of the red head’s grasp, so he decided to panick even more.

“Nope, don’t think I will.” She pushed his shirt up to his ribs, exposing his bare tummy. “Ooo~ this looks really ticklish, Benny, is it ticklish?” She tried it, tracing his stomach with her index finger, swriling around the navel, but not quite dipping in.

“*Snrk* no-NO!! It-It’s not… Gw-Gwen, st-stop, please!” Ben, out of his control, arched his back up towards Gwen’s finger.

“Wow~ look at this cute belly button, just iching for me to swirl my nail in the tiny hole, scratching the walls, and pinching the oustides of it.”

At this point, Ben was already red faced, crying, and panting. He was morbidly ticklish, and he hated it because of how vulnerable he is. Him and Gwen would always get into tickle fights, and he would always end up losing, so this? Not surprised Gwen could pin him down with a flick of her wrist.

“MAX!! UHUHUHUNCLE MAX!!! HEHEHEHELP ME OUT!!! PLEASE!!” To his horror, his uncle was passed out, watching tv, with milk in hand and cookie halfway in his mouth. He was not waking up to anything!

“Too bad Benny, he’s already passed out, good luck next time… or not~” She swriled her finger in, but instead of light tickles, they were rough ones.

“OHOHOW!! GWHEHEHEHN THOSE HUHUHUHUHRT!!!” Ben screeched out.

“Oops, sorry, got a lil carried away, now… where else should I target?” She examined his torso, looking for the next spot and poising her hands on his hips, tapping her fingers.

“No where!! Gwen, quit. It! Please!! Just stop.” The morpher tried to reason with her, doing puppy dog eyes, pleading, but once Gwen gets in a bad mood, there’s no getting out of it, unless SHE’S satisfied.

“Nope, this’ll teach you a lesson.” She scratched his hip indents with her thumbs, and scratched the sides of his hips with the rest of her fingers.

“DAHAHHAHAHAMN!! GWEN PLEASE, I HATE BEING TICKLED!! STOHOHOHOJOP!!!” He writhered side to side, but with his arms bound, and his cousin on his waist, he can’t really do much.

“Duh, that’s why I’m tickling you. This will teach you a lesson, there’s no point in liking being tickled, if you’re not gonna learn anything. Now suffer.” She moved down to his upper knees, squeezing her life out. Boy was she mad.

“GAH!! STOP GWEN!! AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! I’VE LEHEHEHEHARNED MY LEHEHEHESSON THE MOMENT YOU PIHIHIHINNED ME DOWN!” Ben was kicking his legs, so Gwen moved down to sit right above his knees.

“‘Stop Gwen, just stop, please’ No, I’m not going to, until I’M satisifed! You even lost me a date bc you want to be stupid and morph into one of your globby things, scaring him OFF!!” With the last word, Gwen used her sharp nails to squeeze above his knees instead, and that really got him on his feet.

“AHHHHHHHH…. ST-STAHAHAHAHHA!!—— NO!! GOHOHOD FUHUHUHUC-“ Ben didn’t know what to do, he was getting light headed, had to piss, was about to pass out, and he didn’t know how to make her stop.

“Wow~ this keeps you on your heels, huh? Sucks.” Gwen continued her torment on his knees.

“GEHEHEHEHEHWN PLEASE JUST STOP!! PLEASE!! IHIHUHI GOT TO PISS, MYHYGYHY HEAD HURTS AND I’M GOHOHOHONNA PASS OUT!! STOP!”

“Oop- sucks.” She continued, practically pericing his skin with her sharp nails.

“GWEN!!! FUCKING STOP! I’M SERIOUS!!!” Ben, being angry, mustered up enough strength to push her off.

This shocked her, bc no matter how mad he got he could never push her off like that. “You ok, Ben? I think I went a little overboard, huh?”

“YOU THINK?! A LITTLE?! Gwen, when somebody tells you to stop, no matter why they want you to, if they tell you to STOP, you fucking do it. You don’t continue. God, I’m going to bed.” Ben walked off, wiping his teary eyes from his face.

Gwen sat there in disgust in herself, she really went overbaord today, she’ll apologize when sbe sees her cousin tomorrow.

[bimiio]

tell us abt the sex plss<33

got a few requests 4 it so i will tell :3 here’s da lead up if u haven’t read it already n ur curious!! stuff abt da actual sex is under da cut:

so we moved into her room but it wasn’t one of those like desperately kiss as u walk n try 2 find ur way 2 da bed as u go kinda things like we just got up n went normally. when we got in there she had sum stuff on her bed so she started clearing it off n then realized her vibrator was under her pillow so she was like “i’m so sorry i forgot that was there” n i’m ??girl u r abt 2 fuck me do u rlly think i care?????😭 but regardless she put it in her closet n then lifted her blankets so i could get under them cuz she knew i was cold n was like “warm enough now? see? i told you”. then she got under w me n laid next 2 me n was like “c’mere” n pulled me into her n started kissing me again <33

after kissing like dat 4 a little she rolled me onto my back n climbed on top of me n we kept making out like dat until i started (n dis is kinda pathetic i know😔) pushing my hips up against her so she stopped n was like “tell me what you want” n i was like “i dunno :0”. n i wasn’t even sayin it 2 b difficult i prommy i just rlly didn’t know wut i wanted!! like how could i?? ma’am i have never done dis b4!!!!! so then we go back 2 forth 4 a lil n she’s tryna get da words outta me but i truly do not know so then she was like “do you want me to try to figure it out?” n i was like “yeah🥺”. so she’s like “okay baby that’s fine, i’ll figure it out. just tell me what feels good, tell me if you want me to stop” which honestly i appreciated SO much. n bc we had already had da conversation abt my boundaries w being stone n everything i felt comfy enuff dat i knew i could say stop or ask 4 smthn without feeling weird or guilty abt it :) i also was like “i haven’t shaved is that okay?” n she literally LAUGHED AT ME n was like “you don’t even have to ask that of course it’s okay”😭

she goes back 2 kissing me n groping me but sorta shifts herself half off me n starts undoing da button on my jeans n in dat moment i was like. omg!! dis is real dis is abt 2 happen 👁️👁️ but i wasn’t scared i was just excited :3 she was like “is this okay?” n i nodded so she put her hand down my pants n started rlly gently rubbing me over panties while she kept kissing me n my neck n my chest. she was like “does that feel good?” n like it did but she wasn’t QUITE in da right spot so i was like “a little higher” n then she like stopped n smiled at me n went “that’s good, i like feedback” n i was like🫣🫠 then she moved a little higher n started rubbing again n it felt a LOT better. it made me make an embarrassing little sound dat ig riled her up cuz she started rubbing a tiny bit harder n got rougher w her kisses n pulled down my top so she could get 2 my tits. after a little more rubbing on my clit she started dipping her fingers down n sorta pushing my panties 2 da side so she could push inside me

dat made me make more little sounds n then after a little bit of shallow fingering she was pulling herself off of me n moving da blankets off of us so she could take my jeans n panties completely off. we did dat cute little thing where she pulls em off n i lift my hips 2 help her :3 n we both kinda giggled cuz my legs r very long n my jeans were a little too long on me but they were also tight so it felt like it was taking 4evr 2 slide em off😭

once she had everything off my bottom half (atp i was just in my top dat was pulled down under my tits n her unzipped hoodie) she rubbed my pussy a little without any panties in da way n then put her fingers in me all da way😵‍💫 honestly it hurt da tiniest bit cuz i wasn’t dat wet or open yet but dat wasn’t 4 lack of enjoyment i think i was just a little nervous n in my head cuz it was my first time n were just getting started

dis is where everything sorta starts blurring 2gether 4 me in terms of chronological order so i’m not gonna attempt 2 write it all out da way i have been i’m just gonna give y’all my fav parts i rmmbr :3 lemme first say dis 2 establish da vibe tho.. ik i already said she was super dominant throughout da night but dat RLLY carried over into da sex too (nothing kinky just general dominance) n she was also STRONG. so even tho she was shorter than me once she realized i liked when she would take control n move me around she was literally manhandling me. like putting me into different positions n pulling me 2 her n dragging me 2 da edge of da bed etcetc. it was all very fun >:3 anyways here r da highlights

her nose started bleeding!! ik dat’s not like a Sexy thing but it was silly 2 me it was like we were in an anime n she just thought i was so hot her nose started gushing blood. she was fine btw!! she had accidentally got hit in da nose like da day b4 so it had been bleeding on n off a little but she wasn’t in any pain <3

she didn’t have a strap bc her ex took it n her harness when they broke up (evil😔) so we had 2 suffice 4 her fingers but she got DEEP. n she was rough too😵‍💫 like hard deep strokes dat were literally pushing me up da bed

before she went down on me she was fingering me n kissing my hips n thighs while i gripped her hair n scratched her head <33 n then when she DID decide it was time 2 eat me out she DRAGGED me down da bed n against her face

she had me ride her thigh 4 a while cuz i told her da fingering/head was getting 2 b too much 4 me cuz i was too sensitive n while i was she asked me if i liked being called a good girl🫣 i was so excited when she asked bc Y’ALLLLLLLLLLL. da fuckin DIRTY TALK??? dis woman had a MOUTH on her my god. everything she said was so hot n she just kept praising me 4 every little thing

she was thorough as FUCK she had me in every position imaginable n she was rlly testing my flexibility😭 there was one point where she was laying sorta half on top of me half on da bed n then she hiked up my leg dat was further away from her so it was resting on her SHOULDER!! like i was literally knee 2 my ear while she was fingering me n my pussy sounded so wet it was soooo hot embarrassing😭

when she was eating me out n i would get too sensitive n b like “it’s too much” she’d go from sucking on my clit (which she was good as FUCK at btw idk wut she was doing w her tongue it was making me so sensitive my legs were trembling like a leaf in da wind around her head) 2 just gently licking my pussy w a flat tongue n massaging my thighs n hips w her hands <33

omg i just remembered i DID feel like i was gonna pee (i knew i didn’t have 2 actually PEE tho i already had like 3 times in da past few hours n right b4 we started) so dat’s y i kept telling her 2 slow down when i was too sensitive but i think i mighta just squirted all over her if i had given into da sensation. i’ve never squirted b4 tho so i didn’t wanna take da chance in da bed of a girl i had just met y’know?

ik i already mentioned da dirty talk but she kept saying shit like “that’s right baby, do what feels good” n “that’s a good girl” n “you taste good”. or like when i would close my legs cuz i was sensitive she’d gently nudge em open n b like “open up for me” GODDDDDD😵‍💫 OR OR!!! when i would cover my mouth she’d pull my hand away n go “let me hear you” or “talk to me” WHEN I TELL Y’ALL DAT WENT STRAIGHTTTTT 2 DA PUSSY MY GOD🫠 n just anytime she didn’t have her mouth on me she was in my ear encouraging me n talking filth

i told her during dat i have a hard time cumming w other ppl like it’s easier 2 cum on my own n she was like “that’s fine, cumming isn’t the end goal of sex i just want it to be pleasurable while it’s happening” which was so nice n reassuring but then also lead her 2 ask later on how i do it on my own n if i could show her🫣 she was like “i like watching people feel good. do you wanna show me how you do it by yourself?” n i was going INSANEEEE in my head but i denied her request cuz i literally would’ve died of embarrassment. she DID still make me rub my clit while she fingered me tho <33 i felt bad tho cuz my nails were so long they kept bumping into her hand n i was like “i feel like i’m in ur way :(“ n she was like “you’re not in my way, just keep going, make yourself feel good”

at one point she was like “i was gonna ask you something but nevermind don’t worry about it” n i was like “no what is it? ask me” n she was like “i don’t want you to feel pressured” n i was like “you’ve made me very comfortable and you’ve shown you respect my boundaries and my feedback so the worst i can say is no” n then dat convinced her so she was like “yeah okay you’re right. no pressure at all, but do you wanna finger me? i’m asking for YOU. i know what it feels like, i don’t need you to. i just care about you right now, so i’m asking in case you want to try it” n i said no bc i didn’t want 2 but it didn’t kill da mood AT ALL she was very understanding n not disappointed n was genuinely asking 4 me not her. idk i just rlly appreciated dat considering she wasn’t stone or butch/femme at all. yeah :3

there was dis one point where she did smthn dat felt SO GOOD but it only lasted 4 like two seconds n ik i coulda just asked her 2 go back 2 it but once it stopped she was going IN on eating me out which also felt good so i was like ykw it’s fine. basically she’d had me on my back or side da entire time but at one point she flipped me onto my tummy so i was laying flat on her bed like dat n then started fingering me from da back n oh my GODDDDDDDD it felt so good. i was literally whining into da mattress like a little bitch. i think dat’s WHY she flipped me back on my back 2 eat me out tho cuz she wanted 2 hear me😭

i did tell her i came which honestly i don’t think i did. n it’s not dat i felt like i had 2 lie 2 her or she’d b offended if i didn’t cum cuz we’d already talked abt how she didn’t care abt dat but it was all just becoming a lot 4 me n i kept getting rlly close 2 cumming but not being able 2 get over (mental block more than physical i think probably just first time nerves). i’m kinda glad i told her tho bc after i said it she like hiked my leg up n told me 2 open up 4 her n started fingering me so rough n so deep n she was like “if you can do it once, you can do it again. you’re mine now, i’m not letting you go” n LORDDD dat made me tighten around her fingers enuff dat she laughed n was like “you’re tightening around me”😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

anyways yeah i’m pretty sure dat’s like everything :3 ik dis is super messy n incoherent i hope it is still readable enough!! hope y’all enjoyed dis silly little TMI storytime pls lmk ur fav parts n if dis was satisfactory mwah <3

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2023, Day 9: Fair

Oliver shuffled his hands through his notes, taking care that all of the date he recorded on elemental activity was organized. All he needed now was to get home and start properly analyzing and logging what he had learned in his lab in the cottage.

Upon opening the door, he found Dia hanging upside down, Hector dangling her by her tiny, six-summer-old right ankle. Chaos was true order in the Sito household, so when the red-headed midlander returned to a maniacally cackling Elezen child and his reckless bald highlander life partner and research assistant holding her like a fisherman with his rather large catch, it didn't quite phase him much.

"I assume you know that I would be rather upset if you were to drop her, yes?"

"Don't ye worry yer pretty head, darlin'. Only 'oldin' 'er like this 'cause o' 'er pryin' lil' 'ands!" The young child giggled loudly as he lifted her higher to look her in the eye and give her a menacing grin.

"Gods' sakes, Hector. What could she have done now?"

"She thought she could get away wit' snoopin' through a cookie jar when 'er ol' man was right across the way and she knows dinner's bein' served in a bell! Ain't tha' right, Dia?!" She could only laugh in response.

"Heavens above", Oliver rolled his eyes. "Put her down, Hector."

The highlander approached a well-used pale blue sofa and gently laid her down against the cushions. The Elezen was still in a laughing fit, calming down from the rush her father gave her just then. Oliver went to her side and patted her head. "I understand your temptation, but give not into it. That would spoil your appetite and I would feel better if you ate a more nutritious meal. Do you understand, dear?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." Oliver smiled. Oliver then walked over to Hector and sternly told him, "Holding a child like she's a fresh-caught sea bass, on the other hand, is not an appropriate response for a child dipping into a cookie jar."

"What if the child was 'avin the time o' 'er life?" Hector turned to Dia and asked enthusiastically, "Weren't ye 'avin fun, Dia?"

"Yeah!" She cackled in response.

Oliver sighed and pinched his nose. "I get no support here." With his notes still in his inventory, he made his way to his laboratory and closed the door behind him.

--------

Years have passed along. Oliver was reading on the sofa as he felt a presence sit right next to him. He looked and found his thirteen summer old daughter simpering next to him. "Hi, daddy!"

"Hello, dear. Did you care to join me for some light reading? I've an interesting book on the fungal species of the Twelveswood. It's been updated for this year."

"That's nice, but I was hoping to ask you something."

"Of course."

"Do you know what today is?"

Oliver looked to the calendar hanging on the wall nearby. "I believe today is the twenty-eighth day of the Fifth Umbral Moon."

"Right. So do you know what that means next week is?"

He knew perfectly well, but he had to pretend to think on it for his amusement. "Well...I believe there's to be a waxing gibbous in the sky that night."

"Aaaaaaand?"

"Hm...perhaps someone's nameday may be on the horizon. But whose nameday? Now that is perplexing..."

"Daddy!" She yelled excitedly.

Oliver chuckled to himself and ruffled her hair. "Yes, your fourteenth nameday is upon us. Oh, I remember when we found you in the Twelveswood like it was but a day ago. Now look at what's become of that sweet infant."

"Yes, and I'm very glad you two took me in, but you remember what you told me?"

He remembered very well, and it drove his heart rate through the roof to think of it. "About that..."

"Daddy, please! Not again!" Dia begged.

"I know, but...I cannot let you leave until I know with absolute certainty that you will not be harmed if I were to let you go to Limsa Lominsa's Arcanist Guilt by yourself."

"I'm almost fourteen, Daddy. I'm more than ready to go. I've been working on my combat magic!"

"Have you?"

"Yes!"

Oliver put down his book on the old oaken coffee table, coated in coffee stains and littered in papers, and looked her in the eye. "Prove it to me." He stood up and walked to the door. "If you can hold your own against me, then I will take you to Limsa Lominsa myself."

Though it had been some time since he last needed to use it, his family pioneered combative arithmantic black magic, a form meant to mimic the act of black magic without drawing aether from the land. Knowing this about him, Dia stood up and faced him down.

"Then I've no choice but to hold my own against you, do I?"

The two stepped outside into the forests of The Black Shroud. They took an appropriate distance from one another. Both faced the other down, Dia's eyes glimmering with sheer determination. Oliver had to hide his fear behind a shield of stern looks.

Dia took the first cast of Ruin and fired at her father. Though she was stronger with it than when he first taught it to her for self-defense purposes, it barely made an impact into him. It only hurt slightly.

With that, Oliver used his book to cast Fire and aimed it squarely at his daughter.

The impact of the spell sent Dia flying backwards, spinning until she landed face down against the ground. She brought her arms to her side to try and get up, but the pain was overwhelmingly powerful. Her forearms were shaking, her chest was burning, and her head was throbbing, the world looking so blurred through her eyes. Though she tried her hardest to stand back up, her body simply would not let her and so she collapsed once again, panting for breath.

Oliver watched her struggle in this state and felt his knees turn to jelly. His chest tightened and his jaw slacked in horror. When he tried to run to her, however, his path was blocked by his highlander partner, his eyes glowing red and his axe prepared in his hands.

"TRY AN' TOUCH 'ER AGAIN AN' I'LL SPLIT YER 'EAD IN TWAIN!" Hector roared.

"Hector!"

Hector ran to Dia's side and lifted her carefully into him. "Don't ye worry, Dia. Da's got you. Hector's gonna take care o' ye, okay?"

Dia coughed and said weakly, "I'm sorry."

"What ye gotta be sorry fer, love?"

"Daddy...he said I needed to show him I could hold my own...if I wanted to go to Limsa."

"Did 'e?" Hector turned his head slowly to look to Oliver, and in a quiet fury, growled, "Ye ain't the marauders she's s'pose to worry 'bout."

Hector stood up, holding Dia in his arms as she laid in him limply, and carried her into the cottage without another word. As he held her, Oliver could see the blood stain her shirt, and smell her singed flesh, his stomach churning as he realized he did that to her. Once Hector closed the door, Oliver found a corner nearby and vomited violently.

---------

But a week after the Scions awoke in their bodies on the Source, Dia and Alisaie went shopping in the Sapphire Avenue Exchange in Ul'Dah, looking to buy some supplies for Tataru while she dealt with some other business away from the Rising Stones. While picking out some cleaning supplies from an apothecary, they hadn't noticed a scrawny brown-haired Hyur man nearby. He walked very casually but very close to the both of them, and without Dia noticing a single thing, stole some gil from her coinpurse.

Despite Dia's unawareness, Alisaie heard the jingling of money and saw the man walk away quickly. The youngest of the pair put two and two together and gave chase, leaving the eldest behind with the merchant, who Dia apologized to, asked him to hold the cleansers for them and ran after her. He turned a corner into the back alleys, but Alisaie was quick with a Corps-a-Corps and tackled him to the stony ground.

Alisaie turned the man around, grabbed him by the cuff, and screamed, "Do you realize who you just stole from? Do you even know?!"

"Urgh! Get off me!"

Dia appeared behind her in time for Alisaie to yell, "That's the Warrior of Light!"

His face grew pale with fear. His jaw trembled and his eyes grew wider and wider.

"If you have any sense, you'll give back what you took from her and never show your face again!"

"Alisaie", Dia took her shoulder calmly and tried to de-escalate the situation, "It's all right." With a scowl towards the man, she stood up as Dia asked him, "How much did you take?"

He showed her what he had taken, a small handful of gil. It was a pitifully small amount compared to what she kept on her person usually, never mind the fact that most people could only dream of being able to afford her usual gear. "Take it and go. Don't let us catch you doing that again."

He crawled back to standing and ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Dia, what were you thinking? That was yours."

"What he took didn't even make a dent in my coinpurse anyway. Don't worry. I've plenty of money."

"That doesn't give him the right to take it from you without your permission."

"Nor is it fair to burn his face for what's really a pittance. Now come on, we've got supplies to buy."

"Unbelievable. You are unbelievable, Dia", Alisaie sighed in frustration.

-------

About one day ago, Estinien returned Dia to Ishgard from the Ragnarok. He left her in Aymeric's care, knowing full well that she would accept nowhere else to rest but Borel Manor.

At this point, Aymeric was in the Seat of the Lord Commander. Though he should have focused on his work, his thoughts distracted him. The idea that one of the most important people in his life laid in their bedchambers as hurt as she was made him tense. She just saved the universe from the ravages of despair itself. Why was he here when he could make himself useful to her? The war against Garlemald was effectively over, there was no war against the dragons anymore. At this point, his role as the Lord Commander was for bureaucratic purposes as Handeloup oversaw training of recruits and kept the knights working. The bulk of his work was papers and meetings through the House of Lords.

"My lord?"

Aymeric's focus returned to the waking world and he stared up at who just called him. Handeloup stood above him.

"May I speak freely with you?"

"But of course."

"Thank you." Handeloup cleared his throat before saying in a serious tone, "If my wife were to have returned to me in the state that you found Mistress Sito in, I don't think I'd be able to sleep, much less return to work for a while. Are you well?"

Aymeric frowned. "Ah. I'm afraid you caught me ruminating on the subject as well."

"'Tis difficult, I'm aware, but my lord, I wish to make it clear that I would be happy to undertake some more responsibilities for you should you wish to be more present for Mistress Sito. I know I would appreciate such a thing."

Aymeric put his quill down. "I'm unsure what could be done. While I wish to help her in whatever way I can, my duties do not stop here in the Congregation."

"That is true, but my lord, I believe I have an idea for that..."

Dia was half-asleep in bed in the Manor. The painkillers given to her by Captain Whitecape drained any ability to keep herself roused, so she laid there dazed and exhausted. She was ordered to strict bed rest and had no reason at this point to break it. That in mind, she hadn't noticed the sounds of a door opening and only came to when she felt a gentle kiss press against her forehead. She tilted her head as much as she could to see that Aymeric was the culprit. He sat down and took her hand.

"Hi", she smiled woozily. Her words slurred as she asked him, "What are you doing home? What time is it?"

"But a quarter-bell to noon. I'll be taking my work here."

"What?" Her smile dropped. "No no, you don't have to do that."

"If I leave you here alone, my guilty conscience will never allow me to finish any work."

"Oh, but G'raha and the twins and Angelbert, they're all here, remember?"

"And I'm not. 'Tis enough to make a man feel rather left out."

"Aw, I don't...I didn't mean to make you give up your work for me."

"But my work continues. I can handle a solid portion of it from my home study. If I've any need to attend sessions with the House of Lords, then I shall depart for that much, then I can return straight here."

He circled his thumb carefully around her hand. "And I'm afraid that if you didn't wish to take up my every waking thought, it fell on me not to fall in love with you, and I am far too late to stop that, even if I wanted to."

"Ayms..."

"You have saved us on countless occasions, Dia. It is only right that a team of people who love you overwhelmingly so find the time to care for you. You deserve so much more."

Dia breathed out of her nose. "Don't let me stop you from anything important though."

"You and Ishgard are ever my most paramount concerns, my dear. Worry not for me. Please."

The medication made her too drowsy to argue the point anymore. "All right." With that, she had no more energy and nodded back off. Aymeric brushed some hair out of her face and stood up.

This felt right to him.

[mxldito]

🐕 ― a memory involving a pet.

🐝  *  ―  𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑲 𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬.  (  send in a symbol to receive a drabble or meta about one of my muses’ memory.  )

  CW for living in a hoarding situation.

  Admittedly, the little “beast” did look brainless, her little blue eyes crossed in a funny way and the rest of her face was a blur since it blended in with the darkness. She was tucked away into the corner and wedged in between a rotten pile of books and a dusty suitcase. “Where’s ya mama, hm?” More importantly, how the hell did she get in? If there was a hole in the roof or wall, there’s no way they could dig through the clutter to see if it was fixable. They’d just have to pray winter would be merciful if that happened to be the case. 

  Naturally the kitten didn’t really respond to them, much less approach. Both of them stood still, staring at one another. This standoff would last forever if they didn’t do something or the kitten wandered off only to disappear in the tall piles of their uncle’s hoard. “Okay. Stay right there, yeah? Please?” Slowly inching backwards through the pathway they’d carved over the years and away down to the basement. 

  Within a matter of minutes, they returned with an opened can of cat food and a large wooden spoon. The kitten hadn’t moved but settled into the corner, paws tucked under her chest. At least somebody found the place comfortable.

  They scooped a small piece of wet food onto the spoon before carefully leaning over with the spoon forward, “There you go! It’s on the house, lil mama!” Their courtesy was met with a hiss and a spit. Taking the spoon back, “Bitch, I’m trying to feed you! Accept my love!” 

  The kitten arched it’s back upwards, fur standing upright, “It’s not that serious, fleabag!” Carefully, they tapped the spoon to it’s mouth, a blotch of gravy sticking to her tiny muzzle. Licking her chops, she reluctantly settled a bit. “Good shit, huh?” Dipping the spoon in again to offer her more, “Here! Have as much as you want.” 

  Never looking away, the kitten continued chomping away at the spoon. Eventually accepting a gentle rub on top of her head as she ate. Not a tough nut to crack. All the other strays in the area usually had to be trapped, neutered, and released back to their colony as they were too feral to adapt to indoor life. This little one was still only a baby, there was hope for her yet. 

  A chocolate-point Siamese, crosseyed and all. “You’re one pretty kitty. Somebody would pay a lot of money for you.” Rubbing her chin, trying to ease her into their palms to carry her out of the mess. Dark speckles of flea dirt stood out against the pale fur on her back. “¡Pulgosa! I knew it!”

  Well, they fed her. Surely they could wash her too. Let her sleep in their room for the night maybe, they couldn’t let the poor thing go cold. . .It wouldn’t be bad to have a companion after all. 

[pinknatural]

On Monday night, Cas kneels beside the bed and folds his hands, dipping his forehead against the blankets and closing his eyes, lips moving soundlessly. Dean sits on the bed, still as a statue, and watches him, afraid to move. 

When Cas straightens his head and uncurls, standing up, his eyes are wet with tears. Dean reaches for him and Cas falls onto the bed, presses his face into Dean’s neck, sobs silently. Dean holds him close, one hand cradling his head and the other rubbing his back, and he stares at their ceiling. 

Dear Jack, or God, or whoever, he prays. Please come back. Please come home. We miss you. 

On Tuesday morning, Dean untangles himself from Cas gently and brushes the hair from his forehead, presses a kiss to the uncovered skin. He gets out of bed and tiptoes out the door. He’ll get Cas some coffee. It’s the least he can do.

Dean’s chest feels tangled in knots, misery weighing heavily on him. All Dean can think about are his mistakes, all the ways he’s screwed up his kid. All the ways he’s done what he swore he’d never do, three nights after Sam left for Stanford, when he was curled up in a motel bathtub, hiding from his own father. 

But today’s not about Dean, or his guilt, or his pain. It’s about Cas, and it’s about Jack. 

Dean creeps down the stairs, holding the ends of the dead guy robe up so he doesn’t slip. He drops the fabric once he reaches the hardwood floor down below, and he heads for the kitchen. 

Something rattles, and he freezes.

There’s a knife tucked into the leather jacket hanging by the front door, and Dean slides his hand into the pocket, curls his fingers around the hilt. He glides on socked feet towards the kitchen, hoping it’s just Claire--but Claire never wakes up this early. 

From the kitchen, something clatters and falls. It sounds like bowls falling, and Dean takes bigger steps, readying his knife. When he turns the corner into the kitchen, though, it’s not a shitty robber or a demon or Claire or anything else Dean thought it might be. 

A chair from the kitchen table was dragged across the room, pushed up against the cabinets. The cabinet with the bowls is both open and empty, and the plastic bowls are scattered against the counter and floor. On top of the kitchen chair is a little boy--three or four, with blonde-brown hair and wide blue eyes. His little arms are reached out to the fallen bowls, as if he tried and failed to stop them from falling. He freezes and blinks at Dean, who stares back at him. 

“Dean!” the boy cries, and he jumps off the chair and runs full-tilt at Dean, wrapping his little arms around Dean’s leg and burying his face in Dean’s gut. Dean startles and crouches down, disrupting the kid’s hold. 

“Hey,” he says gently, unwilling to scare the kid. The little boy is beaming, a bright smile, little baby teeth lined up and gleaming. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose, and he’s wearing a pair of pink dinosaur pajama pants, with a slightly oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt. His socks say DADDY’S LIL ANGEL on the top of his feet. Dean surveys the boy’s face again. “Jack?” he asks eventually, unsure who else it would be, and maybe a little too hopeful to be thinking straight. 

“Yes!” the boy--Jack, apparently--says, flinging his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean hugs him back, confused, and inhales. He smells like the strawberry shampoo he used at the Bunker. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says, and he stands, his back protesting at the crouch, pulling the little boy up with him. “How are you here? Why are you little?”

“I was all done!” Jack says proudly, spreading his arms out wide and nearly smacking Dean in the face. 

“All done?”

“All done!” Jack confirms. “I was soooo tired. So I came home! And now I want cereal.”

He wiggles in Dean’s arms, trying to get down. Dean yields, and Jack runs to the fallen bowls, picking up Claire’s favorite purple one. Dean watches, astounded, as Jack opens the cabinet but can’t reach the cereal. He follows and reaches for it, puts it on the counter. 

Jack is here. Jack is home. Jack is his actual age. Dean wonders if he has powers, then he decides it doesn’t matter. If he does, they can deal with that later. 

“Hey, Jack,” Dean says. “Come here.” 

Jack runs up to him, still clutching his bowl. He lifts his arms obediently, and Dean picks him up, gently takes the bowl from his hand and puts it on the counter. 

“You’re home?” Dean asks. “For good? This isn’t a dream?”

“I’m home!” Jack says, kicking his legs. “For ever and ever.” His eyes go wide and uncertain. “You said I could.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, a lump in his throat. “Of course I did.” He cups the back of Jack’s head and brings their foreheads together, wills away his tears. “Come on, you can have cereal in a little bit.” 

He turns away from the mess in his kitchen and towards the stairs. “How did you know we wouldn’t be at the Bunker?”

“I wanted to come home,” Jack says. “Not the Bunker.”

Dean blinks rapidly. Jack pokes the picture of his older self as they pass it on the stairwell. Dean stops at the top of the stairs, turns his head to the left to look at Claire’s bedroom, the door shut tight. 

“Shh,” Dean says, and Jack nods solemnly. 

“Shh,” he repeats. 

Dean turns his head to the right, to look at the door across from Claire’s. It’s shut, too, out of respect. They’ll go there later, Dean decides. They’ll see if Jack likes the decorations Cas put up, or if they’ll have to go to the store and change it. Dean will be thrilled either way. 

He keeps walking. His bedroom is at the end of the hall, past Claire’s bathroom, and Dean pushes open the door gently. 

“Okay,” he whispers to Jack. “You can jump, but only if you’re very careful.”

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, and Dean dumps him onto the bed. Jack stands and walks the three steps it takes to get him to the middle of the bed. He falls to his knees and pokes at Cas’s chest, then bounces on the mattress beside him. “Daddy, wake up.”

Dean’s heart melts, and Jack pokes at Cas’s cheek, then his nose. Cas doesn’t wake up, and Jack crawls on top of him. 

“Dadddyyyy,” he says. Cas startles, then blinks awake, bleary. Dean watches his eyes slit open, confused, and the blue eyes focus on the little boy sitting on his chest. Then Cas shoots upright, hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

He looks at Dean, who nods, then he looks back at Jack.

“Jack?” he whispers. 

“Daddy!” Jack says happily, then Cas squishes him to his chest, curling over him. 

“Jack,” he breathes. “Oh, you came back.”

“Yep!” Jack says, voice muffled, and Dean sits down, crawls onto the bed. 

“Apparently he was all done,” Dean says. 

“Yep!” Jack says again. “Auntie Amara said it was time to go home.”

“Of course it was,” Cas says, his voice fragile, and he rocks back and forth, holding Jack to his chest. He looks up at Dean, eyes wet, and Dean hugs him. 

They stay like that for a long moment, Jack pressed between them, clutching onto Cas’s shirt with tiny fingers. Dean exhales shakily and presses his forehead to Cas’s, then he remembers something. 

“Hey buddy,” he says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Ummm,” Jack says. “Tuesday?”

“No, baby,” Cas says, sniffing. 

“No, it’s Tuesday,” Jack argues.

“Of course it is,” Dean says. “But do you know what else it is?”

“No,” Jack says. 

“It’s your birthday,” Dean says. “You’re four now.”

“Wow,” Jack says. He wiggles in excitement. “Does that mean we can have cake?”

“Of course we can,” Cas says, making a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh at the same time. 

“And a biiiiiiggg party?” Jack asks. 

“The biggest,” Dean promises. 

“With Uncle Sammy?” Jack asks. Dean doesn’t know where he picked up “Uncle Sammy”, but he hopes Jack calls him that forever. 

“Of course,” Dean says. “I’ll call him in a few minutes. We’ll call everyone.”

“Everyone?” Jack asks. 

“Everyone,” Dean says. 

“Even Kaia?”

“Especially Kaia,” Dean says. He looks at Cas, realizing that he’s not the only person living in this house, but Cas doesn’t seem like he’s about to argue. In fact, he’s making his calculations face--probably wondering who to invite, who can get here on time and so last minute. 

Dean realizes, suddenly, that Claire and Jack have never met. They’ll have to remedy that. 

They can, now. 

They can do anything, Dean realizes, as they get out of bed and Cas says something about no baby clothes and Jack protests that he’s not a baby, as they tiptoe past Claire’s room to retrieve the promised cereal. Dean unlocks his phone on autopilot, opening the phone app and turning to the favorites tab. When Dean was four, his family was destroyed. 

Claire comes downstairs, Miracle in tow, and she shakes Jack’s hand solemnly. Sam screams over the phone. Rowena shows up in half an hour with a closet full of clothes fit for a four year old. Eileen and Sam bring balloons and streamers. 

Cas is alive, Dean thinks while he mixes the cake. Sam is hanging up streamers across the room. Jody and the girls bustle in with enough food to feed an army. Claire lets Jack climb on her, looking a bit frightened and a bit resigned. Kaia helps Jack put on a tutu over his jeans. Dean slides the cake into the oven, and watches Eileen teach Alex how to sign happy birthday. 

Jack is here now. He’s here and he’s four, and Dean’s family was destroyed when he was four, and now his son is four years old. 

“Our family’s all together,” Dean whispers into Cas’s ear. Cas kisses him briefly. Dean had tried to keep track of their kisses, at first, but he’s lost count. 

“Yes,” Cas says, eyes bright. “They are.”

(ao3)

[demigodreading]

Effort Matters

Summary:  A little Olivia Benson x Reader angst to help me push through the complete burnout I am having because of work. Another lil (literally probably the shortest fic I have written in a minute) for @sweetprentiss​‘ bingo. The prompt is Don’t Talk To Me Like That

Characters: Olivia Benson, Reader

Relationship: Olivia Benson x Reader

Warnings: Angsty

AO3

-------

You loved having a detective as your girlfriend. Especially one as beautiful as Olivia. But the only downside was that sometimes she brought her work home with her. Case files were spread across your living room floor with your girlfriend in the middle of it. In one hand she held a piece of paper and in the other hand her wine of choice. You knew better than to disturb her when she was this involved in work but it was getting late and you were sure the beautiful brunette hadn’t eaten all day.

“Babe, I was going to make some dinner. Do you have any preference?” You asked standing just outside the pile of papers.

“I’m not hungry,” Olivia replied simply brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“You haven’t eaten all day though.”

“Lies. Munch gave me half of his chicken wrap today because he said that I was getting overly aggressive, “Olivia sighed throwing an evidence photo to the side, “I will admit it did help for a moment.”

“Okay… well if you get hungry let me know,” You sighed defeatedly. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Liv asked not even looking up from her paper.

“Nothing… nothing at all.”

“That’s a blatant lie but whatever.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” You replied angrily.

“Well it’s the truth,” Olivia retorted.

“It’s the truth because even if I told you what is actually wrong you wouldn’t care. You never do. Hell, you barely even notice me most days. So yes Olivia. I am telling the truth.”

Olivia threw her paper to the ground looking at you angrily. Her face softened however when she noticed that tears were rushing down your face. She stood up from the floor and went to move towards you but you took a step back pulling your arms closer around you. Olivia rarely got angry and that look in her eyes had made you scared. You wiped away your tears quickly and looked down at the floor.

“Do you even love me anymore?” You asked timidly.

Olivia’s heart broke as she heard your question. She knew that she had been distant lately but she didn’t realize she had been this distant. She reached out for your hand slowly and you took it gently. She gave it a tiny squeeze but made no other move to get closer to you.

“Of course I do baby. I love you with my whole heart.”

“Well, you need to start acting like it because I’m tired of being the only one trying,” Yu said simply pulling your hand from hers.

You walked out of the room into the bedroom you shared with Olivia shutting the door with a slam. You flopped down on the bed burying your head into the pillow. After a couple of minutes, you heard a quiet knock on the door before it opened. You felt the bed dip as Olivia clambered up next to you. She laid a hand gently on your back rubbing small circles. Something she always did to calm you down when you were upset. 

“My love, I am so sorry. I should have never come after you like that. I have been distant, bitter, and just not the girlfriend you deserve. How can I make it better?” Olivia said her voice cracking slightly.

You peeked up to see tears rolling down Liv’s face. You turned just enough to open your arms, “For now can we just cuddle.”

Olivia nodded furiously before taking you in her arms. You buried your head into her chest as she played with strands of your hair. She kissed the top of your forehead, “I love you Y/N. More than anything in this world. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life reminding you of this. I promise.”

You squeezed her close before replying, “I love you too Olivia. Today. Tomorrow. And for the rest of our lives.”

----------

Tags

@caitlink26​// @vangsn​ // @ughilovesupergirl​ @ynsimagines​ 

[metalbuckaroo]

Hey, lovely! For your sleepover. How about...

“I desperately want to take you out for dinner and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me.”

Please feel free to ignore if you received this. 💖

Checking In

Summary// A hotel getaway with Bucky's favorite receptionist

Warnings// Lil angsty, some fluff, some smut, cursing, tiny mention of drinking, 18 plus only, minors dni

Note// I kinda love this request. I didn't use the quote, but its based off of the quote, this also got LONG and took sooo long.

My new masterlist and taglist will hopefully be done tomorrow night.

Im really hoping it doesn't flop bc I'm lowkey proud of it and also spent a lot of time on it

MASTERLIST

Moodboard by @commonintrest

This was the slowest Bucky had went with someone in a very long time. Three dates in and he hadn't even had the chance to see you naked. It was driving him crazy to say the least.

Anyone else wouldn't have gotten a call back, but for you; it made him want it even more. So, he came up with an idea to take that extra step.

Walking into the hotel you worked at, he gave a nod to the security guard and flashed you a charming smile; his hair much shorter than when you saw him last. "Like the haircut." You said, turning in the chair to look at him. "Feels more... professional."

"Checking in again?" You asked, leaning your chin on the base of your palm, reaching your other hand to card your fingers through the short hair.

Bucky shook his head and leaned his forearms on the desktop. "No. We are checking in somewhere else. Tonight, when you're off."

His eyes trailed down to the top of your blouse, looking at the few buttons that where open. "Buck, I'm not staying in a hotel with you." You smiled, shaking your head. "Come on, I'll sleep on the couch if you're too uncomfortable." He smirked.

You thought it over for a moment before sighing and nodding your head. "Yeah, ok." You agreed, letting him pull you in for a brief kiss by the back of your neck. "Fantastic. I'll be here at five to get you."

"I'll have to go get cl-" Bucky shook his head at you. "Won't need 'em." He said, turning to walk out. "Bucky, don't you dare."

"See ya tonight, pretty girl."

As promised, five o'clock hit and Bucky was pulling in front of the doors in his sleek black car; quickly getting out.

His usual suit was traded in for a more casual button up tee and dark jeans, the prosthetic that matched the shape of his right arm perfectly on display.

He rounded the desk and picked up your bag. "You can't be back here." You teased, making him roll his eyes. "Come along, babydoll. We have plans." He said, hand between your shoulder blades to guide you with him.

Bucky's plan would surely get that extra step at least jumpstarted. The heated make out sessions in his car when he dropped you off were starting to get to him.

He refused to call anyone else to handle the tightening of his jeans, the wait made him yearn for you even more.

So, he patiently waited as you changed into the lavender sundress he'd sent for, listened and talked over dinner on the patio of the motel, and just basked in your enjoyable presence.

"Dance with me." You said, hand laying on his bicep. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "I don't dance, sugar."

You raised your eyebrows and cocked your head to the side, fingers tracing down the vein that ran the length of his arm and to his hand. "Well, you're going to, or you'll be sleeping in that room alone." You laced your fingers in his and he looked at you with an amused expression. "Oh, really now?"

"Mhm, c'mon. It's a slow one, so you won't embarass yourself." You teased, feeling his hands on your hips as soon as you turned your back to him. "I never said I couldn't dance. Just that I don't, babydoll." His gruff voice said in your ear, moving to stand in front of you once in the midst of the other couples enjoying their night.

"Couldn't say no to you if I tried anyways." He said softly as your hands rested on the back of his neck, his on the dip of your waist.

The Bucky who took you on dates was different than the Bucky who strolled in your lobby at least once every two weeks. He wasn't glowering when he looked at you; instead he had a smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle and your heart flutter.

He hadn't smiled so hard and so much in years. He was addicted. To your voice, fiery attitude, and gleaming smile; and he couldn't even imagine how much more he'd crave once he finally got a taste of you.

"Gonna let me sleep in the bed, pretty girl?" He cooed, hands roaming over the swell of your ass. "Of course, Mr Barnes." You grinned, pecking a kiss to his dimpled chin. "Could dance with you all night if you wanted me to." He said, squeezing gently. "I wouldn't complain."

His lips slotted over yours, your eyes fluttering shut at the softness of them.

He suddenly lifted his head, bottom lip brushing the tip of your nose as you opened your eyes again.

Bucky's cold demeanor he usually had while walking through the lobby of the hotel returned, smile fading into a deep scowl as he looked at something behind you.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, worry lacing your voice as you cupped his stubbled jaw in your hands, feeling the muscle of it flex. "Just stay close." He murmured, pulling you closer to his front.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, lips parting to say something, but the stern look in his eyes stopping you as they stayed glued on whatever was behind you.

"Barnes, didn't expect to see you here- like this." A voice that was slightly higher in pitch than Bucky's sounded from behind you.

Bucky tucked you into his side, hand on the small of your back as he stared at the shorter man. "Just enjoying my night. That a problem?"

You swallowed thickly and gripped onto the back of Bucky's shirt, crumbling the perfectly ironed fabric in your fist as your heart pounded. "Needa talk." The man said.

Bucky's eyes flicked to a group of men sitting at the corner of the patio before looking back to the man in from of him. "Go sit down. Order us some more drinks." Bucky said sternly. "Bucky-"

He finally looked down at you with an icy stare, making you shrink back slightly. "Now isn't the time to argue with me. Go sit down." The tone of his voice was one you hadn't heard before.

You nodded and turned to walk back to the table, picking at your nails as you took your seat again.

Looking to where Bucky was sat at the table with the group, you chewed your bottom lip. You knew what you were getting into when accepting that first date, you just didn't think it'd follow you everywhere.

He tried to stay patient, he was in rival territory and knew it was a terrible idea; but this was one of the nice hotels and he wanted the weekend spent right. Keeping his cool was the only way he was going to be able to do that.

He was barely even listening to half of what the men were saying, glancing over at your nervous posture as you picked the nails he had just paid to get manicured; even though you protested against taking his money.

Until one statement had his head snapping back towards one of them. "The girl seems... sweet. Make you happy?" It wasn't meant in a way a friend would ask when checking up on another friend. Bucky felt it burn through him like a threat.

"Yeah, well, she's got a mouth on her and I'm losing my patience. So, you men have a good night, you owe my girl an apology for ruining her night." He stood, teeth gritting together.

You noticed Bucky's tense stance and straightened in your seat as he got closer. "Rude bastards." Bucky grumbled, taking your hand in his and tugging for you to stand. "What did they want?"

Bucky thought about lying, but he promised you he wouldn't. "Talk business. Can't believe they'd interrupt me over stupid bullshit." He sneered, pulling you along with him back into the hotel. "Where are we going? They're going to bill you for those drinks." You huffed, picking up your pace to walk next to him. "Don't care."

By the time the two of you reached the door to your room, Bucky had you pressed against it; fumbling to swipe the key card as his lips attacked yours.

Your hands fisted into the front of his shirt to keep your balance as shoes were kicked off, Bucky backing you towards the bed with his large hands holding the sides of your face.

You fell back onto the bed when the backs of your knees met the edge of the mattress, taking him with you; Bucky's body parting your legs.

The kiss was hungry and desperate, sharing breaths as his hands gripped at your outer thighs and pawed their way under the skirt of your dress.

You pulled away from the kiss, breathless as he dipped his head to latch his lips on the underside of your jaw. "Bucky, wait-" You panted, pressing his shoulders lightly. "What?" He breathed, stopping all movements as he looked at you; eyes dark and lips kiss swollen. "I-"

"You're a virgin. We can wait, if so." He cut you off, face dropping slightly. "No, no. It's not that. I just haven't had sex in awhile." You said, gnawing at your tongue. "Want me to go slower?"

"I just don't want to take things too fast." You whispered, tracing the collar of his shirt with your fingertips.

Bucky took a deep inhale, warm hand moving to hold your chin. "Babygirl, listen. I'm not going to kick you out of my bed when we're done. You got me attached with this damn chase you gave me. Wanna take care of you. Okay?"

You nodded and pulled him back down to you, his tongue slipping between your lips as his fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt.

Gently pushing them away, you replaced his hands with yours to pop the buttons open as his tongue glided across every inch of your mouth he could reach.

You lifted your back off of the mattress for his hand to feel for the zipper of your dress, grazing your fingers down the tensing muscles of his chest and abdomen; stopping at the button of his jeans.

"Don't get shy now, take 'em off." Bucky mumbled against your lips, sliding the straps of your dress off of your shoulders.

The wetness between your legs grew as your tugged at his belt, whimpering into his mouth when he pressed his hips against you to show how hard he was.

Pulling away, Bucky sat up to tug your dress down your torso and legs; eyes drinking in the beautiful sight in front of him as he shoved his jeans off and palmed himself through his boxers.

"Take the shirt off." You panted, backing up the bed. A smirk grew on his face, metal thumb sliding back and forth in the waistband of his boxers as he looked at your glistening folds. "Ask nicely and I just might." He taunted. "Please."

You watched the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the shirt sliding off of his arms and to the floor; revealing the mess of scars Bucky hoped you'd ignore and a large tattoo on his ribcage.

Next were his boxer briefs, pooling at his feet as his cock twitched in the air; swollen tip red and leaking precum. "You're staring, babydoll." He said, voice low as he moved his body back over yours.

"Can't help it." You swallowed, the weight of his cock against your thigh as you felt the firmness of his back. His hand slipped between your bodies to guide himself to your heat, spreading your slick with his tip.

"So wet, barely even touched you yet." You whined at his words and gripped his shoulders. "Buck, please. Stop the teasing."

The smirk on his face grew before he brushed his lips against yours. "Hm, I don't know. Kept me waitin' so long, might just tease you a little more." He hummed. You bucked your hips against him, his tip barely pressing into you. "Fuck..." Bucky said in a low groan, a shudder passing through his body.

He made sure you felt every ridge and vein, pulling breathy sounds from you when he pushed deeper. Your walls so tight and warm around him, he already had to hold off his release.

"Look at me, sweet girl." He breathed, nipping at your bottom lip and rolling his hips into yours.

When you opened your eyes, the adoring look in Bucky's made your breath hitch. Hands wedging under your back as he sat up, holding you to him so you were sitting on his thick thighs.

"So beautiful." He groaned as his hands glided over the curve of your back to your ass, metal and flesh fingers digging into the skin.

Guiding your hips in a faster pace, he could feel you clenching around him, swallowing the blissed out sounds you made with a breath taking kiss as his grip on you tightened.

The soft ow that passed your lips made Bucky loosen his grip and move you in a slower pace. "Need me to slow down?" He panted, pulling away from you slightly.

You frantically shook your head, hands clinging to his shoulders; needing to feel his skin against yours. "No-no. Don't stop, please, keep going." You whined, bucking your hips along with him.

In a swift movement, your back was pressed back into the mattress. Your fingers laced with Bucky's as he pinned your hands at the sides of your head, his hips meeting yours in a faster, rougher pace that knocked the breath from your lungs and made your head spin; his cock sliding against every sweet spot, some that you didn't even know existed.

Salacious sounds from both of you echoed around the room, your eyes fluttering shut again and body arching into him so your front was flush to his as the coil snapped.

"There you go, baby. Feel so good, so worth the wait." Bucky moaned out, chasing his own release with shorter thrusts.

A whimper of his name falling from your sweet lips sent him over the edge, his hips flush to yours as he spilled into you with a guttural moan.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, riding the blissful feeling for all that it was as he looked over your blissed out face.

It was the moment your eyes peaked out, staring back into his lust darkened ones that Bucky knew. You were the one thing he needed to protect. To hold close and never let go.

A tender kiss was placed on your lips, a satisfied hum leaving Bucky as he slipped from between your legs to lay beside you.

You slowly moved off of the bed to grab a shirt and go to clean up, legs feeling wobbly with each step to and from the bathroom.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed when you walked back into the adjoined room, legs still a little jelly feeling as you made you way back to him.

He laughed, an actual belly laugh that made your heart swell as he pulled you between his parted thighs. "I have some... unexpected business to take care of in the morning."

You nodded lightly and sat your hands on his shoulders. "I want you to stay in this room and keep the door locked. When I come back, we'll do something." He promised, gently massaging your sides. "Something, huh?"

A squeak escaped your throat when you were pinned back underneath Bucky, his hips pressing into you. "Oh, don't you get me started. I'll keep you up all night."

[theladyofbloodshed]

Modern Nessian One-Shot - Blanket Thieves Don't Deserve Rewards

‘Where’s mine?’

Nesta stood in the doorway with her hands perched on her hips. She didn’t look at Cassian. No, her eyes were fixed upon the slab of chocolate cake he held. Cream dripped off the chocolate frosting, drowning the plate.

‘In the shop.’

The gasp of betrayal filled the silent room. ‘You didn’t buy me a slice? Did you buy me anything?’

Cassian tried not to laugh at the panic streaking through her tone as if she might drop down dead without a treat from the bakery round the corner. It was lashing down with rain; she wouldn’t go and get her own. He’d only stopped off there on his way home from the gym to annoy her.

He did not have to wait long for the bargaining to begin. Fresh from the shower, Nesta knelt on the sofa cushion beside him, damp hair curling past her shoulders.

‘That’s rather a large slice. What if you cut off a tiny slither for me? Just a tiny bit. Maybe a forkful.’

For good measure, Nesta loosened her towel, letting the swell of her breasts more visible.

‘You have not even had breakfast yet,’ he said then slowly sucked a chunk of gloriously rich cake off the fork.

Nesta had had a lovely night’s sleep, wrapped up in the entire duvet, taking up half the bed, snoring in his ear. Every time he had shoved her back to her own side, she’d only wiggled closer again so he was clinging to the edge. Cauldron, the strength Nesta had at night too; he’d pulled a muscle trying to prise the duvet from her iron grip. If he ever left the bed to sleep on the couch then she’d get upset in the morning. It was better for him to suffer a bad night’s sleep than her to wake up alone.

‘But I love that cake,’ she whimpered, big, silver eyes gazing at him hopelessly.

This woman, this damned woman, and the spell she could cast so effortlessly on him. He’d crack. He was so weak-willed when it came to the woman of his dreams. But it was the third night that week she’d stolen the blankets so he started shovelling the cake in as fast he could.

‘You are horrid!’

With a mouthful of cake, Cassian burst into laughter, spraying crumbs across his lap and onto the wooden floor.

‘You never share with me.’

Nesta choked on her words trying to come up with an excuse or evidence of her being generous where sugar was concerned.

She watched him dip his finger in the cream and suck it, brows bunched in a scowl. He made a point to pick every crumb off the plate and devour that, grinning at her as he did.

‘You’re not nice sometimes,’ she moaned.

‘Blanket thieves don’t deserve rewards.’

Nesta gathered the towel tighter around her upper body then let out a long sigh. She flopped against the cushions, staring at the plate as if she might magic the cake back into existence. Cassian joined her, reaching his arm around the back of the sofa where her head rested. She jerked away from his touch, face still adorably grumpy.

‘Nes, yours is in the fridge.’

Her jaw dropped, eyes brightened. ‘You did get me a slice?’

‘Of course I did,’ he grumbled, unable to maintain his trick when she appeared so heartbroken about a slice of cake.

Nesta let out a squeal of joy and threw her arms around his neck. His skin was covered in kisses. ‘You’re so good to me.’

‘You’re still a blanket thief.’

‘And you’re still my favourite person in the world.’

Thank you @dustjacketmusings this story hit very close to home lmaooo

@a-court-of-valkyries @sv0430 @mis-lil-red @nesquikarcheron @emily-gsh @sunsetsofanemoia @swankii-art-teacher @moodymelanist @nestaarcher0n @my-fan-side @c-e-d-dreamer @nestaspegasus @champanheandluxxury @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @lyzriel @dustjacketmusings @sugardoll22

[cacoetheswriting]

congratulations on 2k!!!! can i please get a ✏️ with spencer reid and prompt “You and I together… would that be weird?” “No. No, I don’t think so.” please?

THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: a lil pining, a lil teasing from meddling friends, other than that just a big ball of fluff Word Count: 1.1k [this was supposed to be a lot shorter oops]

-

There was always a distinct sense of calm present on the jet during return trips home. Whenever a case concluded, whether it ended well or not, every member of the team used the flight to compose themselves and collect their thoughts in their own little way. You included.

With your knees pressed tightly to your chest, feet resting near the edge of your seat, you were looking out the window into the deep dark night. The illuminated wing blended with the million stars as the aircraft dipped between shadows and clouds - quite a soothing sight.

You were observing the motions silently, listening to the hum of the rotors, when Spencer’s delicate whisper hailed you back to reality. “Hey, can look at me for a second?”

You instantly obliged, tilting your head to glance at the resident genius sitting next to you. “What’s up, doc?” You asked quietly.

He didn't answer. Instead, his hand travelled to the side of your face and using his fingers, Spencer softly brushed along your cheek. You could feel the blood rush to your features at his gentle touch and you were glad - or rather hoped - he was too focused on whatever he was doing to notice the faint blush.

“Eyelash.” Spencer explained, lips twitching into a nervous smile. He held out a finger and your gaze flickered briefly to the singular lash present on its tip.

“Why, thank you kind sir.” You tittered before slightly leaning towards him and blowing the eyelash away. An all too familiar quiver ran down Spencer’s spine as your cool breath hit his skin.

The two of you proceeded to lock eyes although, the tender moment was soon interrupted by a distinctive snicker coming from across the table. Both your heads turned simultaneously to find Morgan no longer asleep.

“Please, please get a room. I am beginning.” Derek whined, clearly unhappy that your whispers woke him up. “No-one here wants to see you two making lovey-dovey eyes at one another.”

Spencer stiffened at Morgan’s words. Suddenly feeling hot, the brunette doctor wished he could say something to stir the conversation in a different direction. Away from the topic, the image, of you and him together - something that only happened in Spencer’s wildest dreams. He didn't want his colleagues figuring out he had feelings for you. But when Spencer opened his mouth, it was as if his brain and mouth ceased collaborative function. Nothing came out.

You on the other hand weren't as... reserved.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You teased, feet quickly hitting the ground beneath and your elbows now on the table separating you and Derek. You rested your head in your hands as Morgan rolled his eyes.

“You wish, pretty lady.” Derek scoffed.

“Hmm, you’re not convincing anyone Derek Morgan.” This earned you another eye roll from the man who then also leaned forward, matching your level. The young doctor silently observing the interaction couldn't help but feel a zing of jealousy located in the pit of his stomach due to the abrupt proximity you and Derek have now found yourselves in.

“If there is anyone that’s unconvincing, it's you two lovebirds.” Morgan pointed between you and Spencer.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. A seemingly meaningless act that Spencer obviously read too much into. You didn't see him as anything more than a friend. And why would you? He never gave you reason to believe he wanted anything different.

Memories of a conversation he once held with Elle flashed in his mind: “Have you ever asked anyone?” She eyed him patiently. “No.” He replied, shifting his eyes. “That’s why you can't get a date.”.

Should he ask you out? Would you say yes? Sometimes he really hated the way his brain worked.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re not jealous? I mean, it’s okay if you are.” You continued to tease with a devilish grin. Morgan smirked. Knowing he wasn't going to win this one, he waved his hand dismissively before sitting back in his seat. 

“Just keep the flirting to a minimum.” And with that he closed his eyes once again. You couldn't help but chuckle lightly.

Turning your attention back to the resident genius, who’s face was currently as white as snow, the smile on your face quickly faded and was replaced by a look of concern.

“Are you okay, doc?”

“Yeah, I think the tiredness is finally catching up to me.” Spencer lied smoothly. You nodded slowly - not believing for a second in his reasoning, but also not wanting to press on the matter.

After the jet landed and the team said their goodbyes for the night, Spencer walked you to your car. As he often did. Only this time, instead of blabbering about the latest scientific article he consumed, he was completely silent.

“So, doc, are you going to tell me what’s going on in that beautiful big brain of yours?” You asked when the two of you reached your vehicle. You threw your go-bag into the backseat and turned to face Spencer.

His hands slid into the front pockets of his pants. His mind was racing a million miles per hour and he wondered whether you could see the conflict spread across his face - you could.

“You and I together…” Spencer began after a brief moment of silence, a hint of hesitation detectable in the tone of his voice. “Would that be weird?” He queried. And right after the question escaped his lips, his heart stopped. The world stopped. He wanted to run and hide. Disappear in plain sight. The seconds in which he waited with anticipation for you to answer felt more like hours. What if you said yes? What if you said yes!

Yes, yes, yes...

“No...” You benevolently shook your head. “No, I don’t think so.”

A genuine smile crept up on your lips as the realisation of what you admitted out loud washed over you. Because now that you thought about it so vividly, you and Spencer together only felt natural.

It didn't take long for the resident genius to replicate your expression. His posture immediately relaxed and he couldn't help but let out an inaudible sigh of relief. Although, a question still rang in his ears: “Have you ever asked anyone?”.

He quickly cleared his throat. “Would you, uhm... Would you like to go out sometime?” Spencer asked. “On a date that is.” He clarified, although he didn't have to.

“I would love to go on a date with you.” The smile gracing your features grew a tiny bit bigger as your eyes scanned every inch of his perfect face - almost as if you were taking a mental picture to remember this moment forever.

-

milestone celebration | masterlist

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99​

[inkykeiji]

day two ❅ cause i’m mrs. snow, til death we’ll be freezing

don’t cry snowman, don’t leave me this way, a puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby

day one ❅ day two ❅ day three | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: weeee yay day two!! touya + co go ice skating :) this, again, was not supposed to be as long as it is, but eh here we are!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), drug use, very rough sex, public sex, generally toxic relationships, size difference, tense family dynamics, reader’s probably a lil too obsessed with touya’s cum, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 8.3k

synopsis:

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅     

The wind howls gently, picking up swirls of snow and dusting it against the window, the snowflakes soft taptaptap’s echoing among the tiny bedroom. It’s grey but bright outside, the morning of December 22nd. Strands of hair stick to your cheeks and neck, chills erupting across your skin as you wiggle around beneath Touya’s heavy arm, laying across your waist in a loose grasp, your movements causing the blanket to slip from your clammy skin, a soft hiss spit through your teeth as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin. Touya’s got his head buried in the pillow, his torso laying half on top of yours, legs intertwined.

“Touya-nii,” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing a little in frustration as you struggle under him. “Niichan,”

“Mmph,” he emits an unintelligible noise in response, muffled by the pillow.

“Niichaaaaan,” the honorific leaves your lips in a whine, giving another weak shove at his arm. “Niichan, you’re so hot, I’m gonna melt,”

“Too bad. We’re not getting up yet,”

You whine again, your squirming becoming more vigorous. “But Touya-nii, I’m so thirsty! Please, my mouth is drier than the desert, I swear to God,”

“If you don’t stop acting like a brat, I’m gonna fuck you like a brat,”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

That gets his attention, fluffy head shooting up, white tufts tousled and standing on end, sleepy eyes squinting against the sudden light as he tries to glare at you. “Excuse me?”

The deep, rough lilt to his voice, heavy with sleep, makes your stomach flutter, blood rushing to your cheeks as you gaze at him.

Even in the morning, he’s stupidly beautiful.

“G-Got you up,” you giggle a little, reaching forward to run your fingers through his messy hair, smoothing it down in the process.

He deadpans, glaring at you for a moment, though there’s no heat in his eyes. You stare back, blinking twice, little fingers trailing down the side of his face and then tracing his jaw, murmuring about how pretty he is.

“Pretty, huh?” he finally sighs, a small grin spreading across his cheeks, head tilting to the side as your fingers travel down his neck, tracing the intricate black ink.

“Mm, very pretty,” you whisper to yourself, eyes zeroing in on his adams apple as it bobs with his chuckle. “But I’m still thirsty,”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up completely, sheets pooling at his waist. “Fucking brat,”

It’s just past 9am, but the kitchen is empty. Touya carries you there, and even though you’re more than capable of walking by yourself, you snuggle into his neck, scattering gentle kisses across the scarred skin, head resting against his broad shoulder.

He exhales a sigh as you do so, and you can physically feel the tension leaving his body, a tiny bit more with each kiss you press against him.

A soft yelp hitches in your throat as he places you on the counter, cold marble stinging the bare skin of your thighs, Touya smirking at the sound as he wanders over to the fridge, rooting through it for a moment before turning back towards you.

“Water?” you make a face. Touya deadpans for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“You said you were thirsty, did you not?”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off shyly, hooking your ankles together and swinging your legs a little. “I wanted chocolate milk,”

“No,” he says instantly, slamming the fridge shut with more force than necessary, jars jiggling and clinking together with the motion. “Water first,” he uncaps the bottle and holds it out to you. “Don’t you dare start pouting,” he adds, when your eyebrows are beginning to knit together, voice stern. “You did not drag me out of bed at nine in the fucking morning because your mouth was drier than the desert just to pout when I give you water. You know you aren’t allowed sugar first thing in the morning, baby,”

You suppose he has a point, working hard to smooth your face as you take the bottle from him.

“M’sorry, niichan,” you murmur before taking a sip, gazing at him through your lashes.

He glares at you for another moment before a tiny grin breaks his face, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“You’re really testing me this morning,” he mumbles as large hands pry your knees apart, wedging his hips between your thighs while hands curl around your hips and drag you towards the edge of the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist—an automatic reaction—ankles hooking again and holding him close, bodies pressed flush together.

Something’s still off, you can tell, evident in the way his head drops the moment you’re close enough, forehead resting against the crown of your head, exhaling.

“It’s not very nice, babygirl,” he speaks again after a beat of silence, calloused hands slipping under your—his, your mind reminds you—t-shirt, palming your hips. “Think you should make it up to me, hmm?”

And you want to, God, do you ever want to, want to kiss all of his sorrow away, want to pull those gorgeous broken whines and throaty moans from him, want to help him forget about whatever it is that’s bothering him so deeply, to lock it out of his head, shoving it from his mind as his brain is filled with thoughts of you. But…

“B-But niichan, we’re in the kitchen,” you have to force the trembling words from your mouth, biting down hard on your lip to keep from moaning as his teeth skim along your neck, evoking a full body shiver.

“So?” his lips brush against your skin, nimble fingers dipping into your cute pink panties.

“Anyone could—could come in any second and—”

“What? Catch us?” he pulls back a little, smirking. “And?” sapphire searches your face as heat rushes to your cheeks, rushes shamefully between your legs. He snorts a moment later, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt. “Exactly,” the word is just a huff of breath as he nudges his nose against yours. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t try lying,” he sounds bored as he cuts you off, fingers rubbing at your little hole through the damp cotton of your panties. “Your pussy’s very honest,”

And the broken whine that hitches in your chest is nothing short of absolutely pathetic, back arching and eyes fluttering as he begins flicking his thumb over your clit, keeping his touches light and fast.

“Yeah,” he breathes, the word bordering on a growl. “Of course you would. Bet you could cum from just this if Natsuo were watching, huh? Want everyone to know how easy you are for niichan? How much of a good little slut you are for niichan?”

“You planning on testing that theory out?”  

Natsuo’s unexpected voice makes you jump, eyes snapping open and flying to his face as you choke on a gasp, Touya’s thumb choosing then to press hard against your swollen little clit, forcing an embarrassingly loud cry from your lips and paying no mind to his younger brother, who’s leaning casually against the doorframe with a smirk decorating his face. In fact, Touya doesn’t react to Natsuo at all—

Because he already knew.

“N-Niichan,” you nearly wail, burying your scalding face in his shoulder, nails digging into the smooth muscles of his back.

“Aww,” Natsuo coos, and he sounds genuine. “C’mon, don’t hide from me, sweetheart,”

“What, now you’re shy? When you were about to get off on the very thought just moments ago?” Touya’s patronizing chuckle vibrates against you, though his hands are on your back, petting you in smooth, soothing motions.

“Niisan, don’t tease,” Natsuo laughs, and you smush your face harder against Touya’s shoulder, whimpering a little as Natsuo’s voice gets closer. “I just figured if you two were gonna have a cheeky lil fuck in the kitchen, the least you could do is let me watch,”

Touya begins laughing again, starts to say something, voice abruptly cutting off. You stiffen, clinging to him, breath bated as you listen.

“Surprised you two were the first ones up,” Fuyumi’s voice floats through the space, tone clipped.

You peak out from over Touya’s shoulder, watching as Fuyumi fiddles around with their extremely expensive coffeemaker, a deep scowl etched into her face.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Touya asks lightly, sounding genuinely surprised, innocently curious.

“You know why,” she snaps, slamming her coffee mug down on the granite countertop and whipping her head around to glare at her older brother.

Touya chuckles and shakes his head, maintaining that he doesn’t, he swears, and if you didn’t know any better, if you couldn’t see the smug smirk on his face, the mocking amusement swirling in his eyes, you’d believe him to be telling the truth.

But Fuyumi knows him better than that, rolling her eyes and grumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Shouto chooses then to enter the kitchen, hair slightly mussed, looking a little like a white and red haystack atop his head, and Touya’s body goes rigid.

He yawns out his morning greeting, glancing around the room, mismatched eyes lingering on your bare thighs for just a second too long.

Touya notices, because Touya notices everything—especially when it comes to Shouto, cobalt eyes sharp and trained on his every movement—moving to shield you with his body as best he can.

“C’mon princess,” he’s mumbling as his hands force their way under your ass, hefting you up again. “Let’s go,”

And no one misses the way Shouto watches the two of you leave, the way his sleepy eyes focus on your ass—just barely concealed by the cotton panties, Touya’s hands providing more coverage than the garment does—then move down to his brother’s shameless erection, partially obscured by your body, inhaling a sharp gasp that everyone hears, that everyone knows what it’s in reaction to, that everyone ignores.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Today’s activity is ice skating, Rei tells you as your exiting the cabin.

She looks excited, a smile on her soft lips, eyes bright as she pats your shoulder, and it makes warmth flutter in your chest, glad to see the events of yesterday haven’t completely dampened her mood.

“Do you know how to skate?” Natsuo asks you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I do,” you say proudly, looking over at Rei as you reach Touya’s car, sharing a grin. “Rei taught me not long after she and my father started dating,”

“Aw, mom,” Natsuo coos, looking over at his mother for reassurance. “That’s sweet,”

Rei hums, nodding as her eyes drift back to yours.

“Hold on a second,” she says as her smile slowly begins to dissipate, glancing from Touya’s hand on the handle of his car’s passenger door, to your face, to Natsuo standing by his own car a few feet away, brows knitting.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car?” his response comes out as a question, spoken slowly as he’s worried it’s the wrong answer, tilting his head a little like a puppy.

“There’s no need for you to take more than one car,” Rei says pointedly, her gaze darting to Touya, holding his eyes even though she was speaking to Natsuo. His mouth falls open to protest, but she continues. “The five of you will fit in one. We’ll see you there,”

Her tone is final as she turns away and gets into her own car, the five of you watching in silence as it reverses onto the road, snow and ice cracking and popping under the thick tires. Natsuo turns back to the group, a large, boyish smile on his face.

“It’s fine! We’ll take my car,” Natsuo’s eyes soften a little as he looks over at his silver Porsche, patting the roof affectionately.

“No,” Fuyumi responds immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Stone eyes fly back to her face, alarmed. “What! Why?”

“Because you drive like a lunatic—I refuse to ride in any car when you’re behind the wheel,”

Natsuo frowns as he rounds his car, coming to stand with the group. “Well your car isn’t here, since you came up with mom, so—”

“We can take Touya’s car,”

“No,” Touya nearly growls, the unexpected rumbling deep in his chest causing everyone to flinch.

“Why not?” Fuyumi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she glances at her older brother. “I can’t think of any reason—”

“He is not stepping foot in my fucking car,”

Fuyumi’s eyes widen slightly, staring at him in disbelief, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding, or are you really that stupid?”

“Touya-nii,” you gasp softly, tugging on his arm a little and then hugging it to your chest. His voice drips with venom, sharper than a tungsten needle, and it makes both you and Natsuo wince, despite not being the object of his fury.

“Fine, Christ, I just won’t come then,” Shouto finally chimes in with a roll of his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

Touya whirls around to face him, rips his arm from your grasp so aggressively, so suddenly, that it sends you stumbling backwards. Natsuo catches you quickly, righting you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“You wanna know what would make me happy? You fucking de—”

“That’s enough,” Fuyumi cuts him off with a glare so fierce it sends chills skittering across your skin, regardless of the thick sweaterdress and heavy jacket you’re currently wrapped up in. Natsuo must feel it course through your body, because he pulls you tighter against him, fingers digging into your shoulder.

Touya’s eyes snap to his sister, raising an eyebrow as a terrifying smile spreads across his face. It’s a smile you’ve only seen a few times before, gleaming white teeth on display, angular jaw clenched tightly. It’s a smile that makes icy dread pool in your stomach, thick and heavy, and you try to press yourself closer to Natsuo, body flush against his side, partially hiding your face in his chest.

Still, Fuyumi does not waver. “You are an adult, Touya. For God’s sake, act like one! Shouto is not a disease—”

“Could’ve fooled me,”

“—that will infect your car! He’s your baby brother!”

Touya’s eye twitches at the term, painful smile stretching even wider. In the pale afternoon sunlight, those glinting white teeth look pointier than normal, and you whimper into Natsuo’s chest.  

“My car, my rules,”

“Oh my God! Are you being ser—”

“Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Natsuo jumps in quickly, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re scaring our little princess, niisan,” he says, voice softer, a large hand rubbing your shoulder in comfort.

Touya spins around again, wild sapphire eyes finding yours, his face falling the moment your gazes meet.

Little fingers have tangled themselves in Natsuo’s jacket, clinging to him so hard the skin over your knuckles is stretched taut. Your entire body trembles as you blink hard, trying in vain to clear the tears rushing to your eyes. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, so loud you can’t hear what Touya says as he swoops towards you, eyes wide and worried.

“We’ll take my car, and Fuyumi will drive.”

Natsuo’s voice holds the same note of finality that his mother’s does, large hand still curled around your shoulder as firm stone eyes scan the three faces in front of him.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Touya refuses to have you and Shouto in the back seat alone, and Natsuo insists that he sits in the passenger seat, to make sure Fuyumi doesn’t hurt his baby, he explains, which is how you end up smack in the middle of the oldest and youngest Todoroki children.

It’s cramped—they’re both too big to be in the backseat of such a small car—resulting in the three of you being squished together, your body packed in tightly—practically wedged—between theirs.

It’s nearly impossible to keep your thigh from brushing against Shouto’s, but you try anyway, leaning into Touya as much as you can. A strong, possessive arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers fisted in the material of your little sweaterdress, sapphire eyes hyper-focused on the way Shouto’s corduroy clad thigh keeps knocking against your bare knee with every gentle jolt of the car.

But when Shouto idly drops his large hands heavily to his lap with a sigh, long fingers splayed casually, just the very tip of his pinky resting against your thigh—well.

Touya sees fucking red, yanking your body away from his little brother immediately with a vicious growl caught in his throat, the movement so sudden and unexpected it has both you and Shouto gasping, heterochromatic eyes wide and alert as they snap to his eldest brother’s face,

He hadn’t even noticed. Truthfully, you probably wouldn’t have either if it hadn’t been Touya’s suffocating, overbearing presence beside you—engulfing you, causing you to be excessively aware of every miniscule movement, every jostle and touch and bump.

“Don’t fucking touch her,”

It takes Shouto another half a second before the realization hits him, eyes darting down to his thighs, finally taking note of the placement of his fingers. Then he’s scoffing, rolling his eyes as he huffs to himself, quiet and under his breath, something about Touya being absolutely ridiculous and childish and insecure.

Yet Shouto’s legs spread a little more every time Touya pulls you a few centimeters closer to him, ensuring that your thighs can never quite escape his, his strong muscles constantly nudging against yours.

It isn’t until you push your knee back against his, hard and purposeful, giving Shouto a sharp look, that this behaviour finally halts.

“Who’s being childish now?” you hiss, eyes holding his sternly, widening a moment later as if to say, Stop aggravating him.

Shouto’s face falls, lips tugging down into a frown as his gaze searches your face, head shaking a little. He opens his mouth—to apologize, you think—but is cut off by Touya’s immature snickering, his chest vibrating against your back.

“Fuck you,” he seethes instead, eyes narrowing and mouth snapping into a firm, unimpressed line.

“Watch it—”

“Play nice, you two,” Natsuo warns from the front seat. “I won’t hesitate to pull this car over and beat both your asses on the side of the road for everyone to see,”

“Okay, dad,” Shouto snorts as Touya simultaneously responds with, “I’d like to see you try,”

Nevertheless, Natsuo’s little warning does manage to shut them up for the remainder of the ride, Shouto crossing his legs, knees pressed up painfully against the door in an attempt to stop touching you. You’re practically in Touya’s lap by the time you arrive at the Ena Skating Rink at Crystal Park, seatbelt uncomfortably biting into your flesh through your clothing.

“I don’t understand why we had to drive an hour just to go skating,” Shouto grumbles just as Fuyumi turns into the parking lot, face set in a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed as he glares out the window. “There was a perfectly fine lake like, ten minutes from the cabin,”

“Shou, you sound like a petulant teenager,”

“Technically, he is a petulant teenager,”

“Not for much longer,”

“That’s right, your birthday’s coming up,” you say automatically without thinking, words slipping from your mouth as Fuyumi circles the lot in search of a parking spot. In the past, Shouto would’ve ignored such a slip-up, figuring the politeness of providing you an answer not worth Touya’s wrath, but now he turns to face you with a small smile, heterochromatic eyes almost twinkling, mask of irritability burning off his face in an instant.

“Yeah, in a few weeks,” he shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll be twenty,”

Do you have any plans?

The question lingers on the tip of your tongue, words frozen at the back of your throat as Touya’s hand curls protectively around you, strong fingers digging into your plush waist hard enough to make you wince.

But Shouto has become pretty good at reading you over these past few years, no longer needs you to voice your thoughts—the two of you have become accustomed to communicating through looks and expressions alone, to keep from sending Touya into an absolute rampage, to keep the both of you safe.

“Not sure what I’m doing yet,” he answers, keeping his voice light, though those mismatched eyes are sharply trained on your face, ready to analyze and decode whatever expression your features morph into.

This is the first time he’s ever verbally answered, though, and it hits you like a bag of bricks swung at your chest, the realization that this is something the two of you have built up together, something the two of you have spent years doing, working together silently, quietly, subtly, to keep Touya placid, something the two of you have been subconsciously doing to protect each other.

The thought inspires an odd feeling in your stomach, chest tightening with something akin to anxiety, something bitter and heavy rooting in the pit of your belly.

Touya saves you from having to answer, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt for you the moment Fuyumi’s finished reversing the car and nearly hauling you out  before she’s even cut the engine.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“You’re not coming?” you ask Touya as he slips your foot into a skate, beginning to lace it up.

Touya shakes his head. “No,”

“Touya never learned how to skate—refused to, actually,” Natsuo informs you, sitting down next to you on the bench and playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

Tilting you head, you stare at him, a soft little oh slipping from your lips. Touya avoids your gaze, jaw clenching rhythmically.  

“It’s for the best. He really shouldn’t be near any sort of blade for an extended period of time, not while Shouto’s in reach,” Natsuo jokes, though no one laughs, because it’s true.

Touya spends most of his time leaning against the boards, bright sapphire eyes trained on you, glued to you, cataloging all of your movements, each of your cute little giggles and soft little smiles, every hand on your shoulder or waist as it steadies you.

It’s hard for him to watch.

It’s hard for him to watch the way your eyes twinkle as Fuyumi speaks to you, the two of you gliding around the ice nonchalantly, hard for him to watch the way Natsuo pulls endless laughter from your throat as his gloved hands hold yours, pulling you along with him, hard for him to watch when Shouto appears beside you, slowing his stride to talk animatedly to you, the two of you absorbed in whatever discussion you’re having.

And yet, he can tell something isn’t right. Your eyes are twinkling, but they don’t gleam the way they do when you gaze at him. You’re laughing, but it isn’t as bubbly and pure as it is when evoked by him. You’re talking, but you aren’t wholly and completely captivated by whatever it is Shouto’s saying to you, gaze constantly drifting just over his shoulder, connecting with Touya’s.

Those ten little words from the night before echo through his mind again, and his molars grind together, but the look in your eyes, the way your face positively lights up when you skate towards him, past him, blowing kisses and giggling behind mitten covered hands, stomps them to little pieces, to dust, your fleeting presence blowing them away. He feels like he can fucking breathe again, each time you glide by him, resolve hardening a little more with every lap past him.

No, he knows he’s the best for you, absolutely is without a doubt the very best for you— and you confirm it with that loving, adoring, doting look every single time.

Despite this, he keeps disappearing intermittently, your heart sinking just a little bit more every time you look over to see him nowhere to be found, a sour taste settling on the back of your tongue. This is only the second day into the trip and you’re already terrified, knowing that he’s filling his nostrils with that fine white powder the moment he begins to feel his high fading, the moment he feels himself beginning to come down.

And by the third time he vanishes within a single hour, you decide you can no longer stand by and do nothing, say nothing—he’s gone for more than usual this time, an uneasy sense of dread flooding your body, making your limbs tingle as your heart begins to race, plopping down on the wooden bench and bending down to quickly unlace your skates. Your voice shakes as you tell the others that you’d like to take a short break from skating, claiming that your feet are sore, and that you’d like to rest for a while.

In actuality, you’re sure they all know what you’re doing, itching to go search for Touya, heart pounding painfully as several scenarios flash through your mind, but they say nothing, nodding with those polite smiles they all plaster on their faces any time something like this occurs.

The muscles in your thighs ache as you jog across the snow-dusted field, eyes frantically darting around the large open space in search for a man with ivory hair and azure eyes. Your feet take off the moment you spot him, an instinctual reaction, breath ragged and burning in your chest as you barrel into him, winding your arms around his waist tightly and burying your face in his strong chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he’s murmuring softly, arms encircling you and squeezing you against him, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “What’s going on, princess?”

Pulling back, your eyes study his face, stomach plummeting when you see it.

“Out playing in the snow again?”

Cobalt eyes narrow, Touya tilting his head in question as he stares at you. A frown mars your face, deep sigh leaving your nostrils without your permission, and Touya bristles. A tender thumb swipes across his nose, showing him the pure white powder it gathers.

“Slow down,” you say softly, gently, cautious eyes watching him carefully. “I don’t want a trip to the ER for Christmas,”

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you can see it, the blue fire simmering deep within them, but because it’s Christmas—and only because it’s Christmas—he blinks twice, extinguishing the flame to dull embers.

Chest heaving once, deep and heavy, he sighs out of parted lips, holding your hand to his cheek. Sapphire eyes close briefly as he nuzzles his face into your touch, and for a moment—just for a second—you think he’s about to apologize.

But that would be a Christmas miracle.

“Keep me in line,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping a little in defeat, a tiny sardonic grin on his lips as his eyes open again, searching your face. “Okay? Can’t let my best girl down on Christmas, now, can I?”

And although his shoulders are straining under the weight of this new responsibility—to try and restrain himself a little more, to not solely rely on the drugs to numb him to everything, to give up autonomy, power, to you—a weight feels like it’s been lifted off of yours, regardless of the fact that he’s asking you to control him, and you inhale deeply, able to breathe again.

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side. The thought produces an inexplicable lump in his throat and he blinks hard, glittering eyes sweeping across your face before he seizes it, large hands cupping your jaw almost painfully as he pulls your face towards his, lips capturing yours in a crushing kiss.

Niichan! You try to squeal, muffled by his lips, Touya using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, down your throat.

Traitorous as ever, your body melts into his only a second later, fingers latching behind his neck, trying to pull yourself closer.

“I need more,” he mumbles against your lips before pecking them again, eyes still closed. “I need more, baby, I need more right now,”

“Then take it,” you whine breathlessly into his mouth, echoing your words from the night before. “Take it, it’s yours,”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

It smells like damp rubber and stale snow, with a hint of year-old hard candy crushed beneath snow boots, releasing faint scents of artificial strawberry and orange.

The restroom is filthy, but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to pay much mind to the grime on the walls, or the flaky rust on the faucet—which is quietly dripping intermittently, covered in little droplets of condensation that gleam under the harsh florescent light humming above, tubes exposed.

The cement wall is cold against your bare skin as Touya rucks your dress up around your waist, hands under your ass supporting your weight as your legs wrap around him obediently, praising you for listening to him and never wearing pants, even in weather like this, because god, it makes everything so much easier, baby.

In the past, you would’ve been in a rush, positive you didn’t have much time before someone noticed your absence.

But your family is used to this now, completely unphased by the two of you disappearing for twenty, sometimes thirty minutes and returning with swollen lips and freshly fucked hair.

It’s not like they can say anything, anyway—it’s not like anything is going to stop the two of you now; it’s not like anything would’ve stopped the two of you before, either.

Despite this, Touya still doesn’t exactly take his time with you, large hands pawing at your breasts, your waist, your hips, fingers dipping into the elastic waistband of your panties just to let it snap back against your skin, reveling in the little yelp it conjures from you.

“Already soaked,” he sneers in your ear as two fingers skim over your lace-clad cunt. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I expected any less,” he huffs out a chuckle; a mean, harsh sound that ghosts over the shell of your ear before he captures it with his teeth, biting down hard and forcing a high-pitched squeal from your throat. “Because my baby’s such a Goddamn slut, isn’t she,” his lips are against your ear as he murmurs in that low, sultry voice, hot breath contrasting the cool air of the restroom, and you shiver violently.

“Only for you,” you whine out, already breathless.

And you’ll never get over how easily he knocks the air out of your lungs with just a few dirty words and prodding fingers, stroking your slit through drenched lace in a way that’s almost gentle, careful, purposeful, sure to keep his touches as teasing and not nearly enough.

Still, those three words have more of an effect on him than you would’ve thought, a possessive growl ripping from his chest as he grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh, the denim rough against your soft skin.

That growl in particular is your favourite, and you tell him so.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, pulling back as sapphire searches your face rapidly, wide and bright and alert with the cocaine rushing through his body.

“Makes me—” sharp teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, just above your shoulder, a loud gasp cutting you off and bouncing against the walls of the small room. “Makes me wet, niichan,”

He groans into your skin, tongue wet and warm and caressing the skin in little licks back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as he sucks, branding you with brilliant violet.

“What’s this? My princess talking so dirty without being prompted?” he pulls back to look at you, and you can see the amusement dancing in his deep, deep eyes, endless pits of cerulean smothering everything their gaze touches, almost voracious as they soak it all up, feeling like they’re sucking the very life from you in the most delicious way.

A pitiful squeak escapes your lips in the form of an answer, heat seeping into your cheeks. He’s mocking you—you can tell. Those three words uttered from your lips aren’t even that dirty, are nothing compared to some of the things that have come out of your mouth while you’re delirious on his cock, begging for his cum.

Still, you’re unable to find your voice, staring at him in an almost helpless manner, a little kitten in the clutches of a jaguar, claws beginning to close in on you, trapping you between heavy, sharp paws.

“Ah,” he smirks, eyes darkening dangerously. “Not so bold when niichan’s actually looking at you, are you?”

Front teeth dig into your bottom lip, chewing on it a little as you hold his gaze, feeling heat gush between your thighs, the symphony of your combined slightly ragged breathing ringing in your ears.

“Say it again,”

And you try—really, you do, lips separating as you try to force the words out, a nasty combination of frustration and shame eroding your chest, burning and acidic, then shaking your head a moment later.

“Just,” you whimper as you try to pathetically rock against him. “Please?”

“Nah, nah, nah,” he’s shaking his head, that stupid grin etched across his face, pulling back even more but keeping you up against the wall, hands still cupping your ass, hips pinning yours. “Niichan isn’t gonna fuck you now unless you ask for it,”

Your forehead creases with a deep frown. You usually ask him to fuck you, don’t you? “I alwa—”

“No, no, you don’t,” he says simply with a tilt of his head. “Niichan wants you to really ask for it this time,”

You blink rapidly in confusion. “I-I don’t understand,”

Little breaths are beginning to leave your mouth, speeding up with the racing of your heart, terrified to upset him. Yet he looks amused, looks like he’s having so much fun as he torments you.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos with a false pout, mimicking your own. “You’re not that stupid, are you?”

A little whimper leaves your lips, chin twitching, threatening to begin trembling as you shake your head at him, unable to find words. Heat floods your face again, little pinpricks under the skin of your cheeks, a physical manifestation of your humiliation as he tuts his tongue.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, though you can feel his cock throbbing through the thick denim of his jeans. “Just ask for my cock, babygirl,”

Although oozing with patronization, his voice is soft, blown pupils gazing at you with so much love it’s nearly overflowing from his eyes, slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass almost tenderly as he waits.

And that’s all the encouragement you need, really.

“I-I want your cock, nii—” you begin, voice fading as your eyes meet his unimpressed gaze, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say Really? That’s the best you got?

A fierce need to prove yourself, to make him moan again, to make his stomach tense from just your words alone, blazes in your chest, burning through your veins and giving you another surge of confidence.

Gazing at him through your lashes, you pout a little more. “Niichan,” you whine out the honorific, back arching a little as you do. “Please, niichan, give it to me, I’m begging, my pussy is aching for your cock, T-Touya-nii—I need it filling me up, need it right now, f-feels so empty without you stretching me wide open,” the sentence fades off into a little whimper, but his lidded, glazed eyes, and the way his tongue runs along his bottom lip as he stares at you spurs you on, more dirty words spilling from your lips. “Feels—Feels wrong without your f-fat cock inside of me,” you nearly weep. “Please, niichan, make it right again,”

The gentle tremble in your voice only adds to it, somehow manages to make you seem so fucking innocent as you whine out such filthy words, and Touya can barely handle it, rubbing against your thigh, the repetitive motion of the denim dragging across your soft skin causing it to chafe.

“Fucking Christ,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes slip shut. “I wish I had recorded that,”

A cute, shy little giggle bubbles up your throat, face still burning. “I-I can say it again, if you want, niichan,”

He laughs—a genuine laugh deep in his throat, paired with a smile that meets his eyes—and presses a chaste kiss to your nose.

“One day, I’ll film us,” he vows, and the thought alone makes your stomach swoop. “But now, niichan’s gonna make you feel right again, okay, princess?”

“Oh, please, please,” you’re whimpering, body quivering against him.

“Shh, niichan’s got you,” he murmurs as he fiddles with his belt using a singular hand, your tiny fingers wandering down between your bodies to aid him.

Shoving your panties to the side, the head of his cock presses against you, and you wince in anticipation of the stretch—the stretch you so lovingly begged him for, he reminds you, sapphire eyes soaking up every single one of your expressions as he pushes in; reveling in the way your shut lids tighten, face screwing up in pain as the softest little yelp hitches in your throat.

It burns unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, abused cunt still sore and raw from the night before, from being fucked so ruthlessly less than twenty-four hours ago.

But you’re so wet, he breathes, rolling his hips slowly, stretching you little hole out just a bit more with each unhurried rock of his hips against yours. The wetness does nothing to stop the sting that accompanies his motions, though, reopening the tiny superficial fissures in your sensitive skin, quite literally tearing you apart, again, as your cunt yields to his girth.

“Niichan, hurts,”

“Yeah, baby?”

Little fingers curl in his thick sweater, and you whimper out an affirmative, head nodding lethargically against his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted niichan to fill you up?” he speaks as though he’s confused, a hint of condescension sown into the question, never halting his thrusts.

“I-I do!” you say quickly, head shooting up to gaze at him with glassy eyes, thick shield of unshed tears causing them to gleam in the harsh light. “I do,”

“Well then,” he smirks at you, hips pulling back, slow and controlled, before thrusting back in, sharp and fast, so hard it shoves your body up the wall, head whacking against the concrete with such force it sends agonizing pain shooting through your skull like lightning strikes. “Stop being a fucking brat, and take what niichan’s giving you,” he scolds over the piercing cry that falls from your lips, voice rough, deep, rumbling the way thunder does, buried in thick clouds on a humid summer’s day.

“Ungrateful little slut,” he snarls out, panting a little as his hips set a punishing pace, rapidly slamming into you, his jutting hipbones digging into the fresh bruises from the night before.

And you’re powerless to stop the noises you’re emitting, catching in your throat in time with his harsh thrusts, little mewls of niichan! and broken whines bouncing off the solid, cold walls, each one reverberating in his skull, forcing his hips to drive faster, harder, deeper.

But it’s fucking intoxicating, the way he’s pulling those needy little sounds from you as tears slip down your cheeks, pompously spitting demeaning words at you, sugarcoated in a thin, gleaming layer of praise. He’s a goddamn drug, words invading your mind and casting a thick haze over it, and during that moment all you can see is him, hear is him, taste is him—you swear you can feel him rushing through your veins, his heady scent of expensive cologne mixed with hickory campfire and a hint of Marlboros filling your lungs, the organs swelling painfully as you hold him inside your chest, trying to keep a piece of him close to your heart.

He stops to readjust your position, grunting as hooks an arm under your knee and yanks, ripping it from around his waist and forcing it toward your torso, your ankle nearly resting on his shoulder, his hand splayed flat against the dirty wall, using it as leverage. Your other leg clings to him, wrapped so tightly around his body that the muscles are beginning to quiver. Still, this brief pause affords you a much needed moment to catch your breath before his hips piston into you again, harsh, strong, fast, cockhead slamming against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

Each thrust forces another yelp to tear from your throat, your voice hoarse and raw, as he bruises your abused cervix, sharp spikes of pain shooting up your lower back and down your trembling thighs. He’s a watery blur at this point, eyes overflowing with tears, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders as you clutch him, arms beginning to ache from holding yourself up.

Tufts of white hair stick to his neck and forehead, clumped together with sweat. He’s almost whining out curses, slipping from between clenched teeth as his thrusts continue to pick up speed, although you can barely hear him over the sound of your own ragged breathing, peppered with pitiful little sobs that leave your chest heaving.

“Look at you,” he gasps out, wild sapphire eyes searching your face. “So fucking beautiful, taking my cock so well,”

And even in such a position, inebriated from the potent combination of pain and pleasure and him, his praise still makes your heart soar. A little pink tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, bitten raw by him and salty with your own tears. Strand of hair stick to your puffy cheeks, though you’re unsure if they’re coated in sweat or tears.

“C’mon, baby,” he nearly keens. “Want you to be a good girl and cum for me,”

And those two tiny, four letter words are the magic words, like they always are, your head nodding vigorously, incoherent babbling bubbling past your lips; yes niichan, of course, wanna be a good girl for you, touya-nii, the best girl, your best girl.

He gives you permission to touch your clit, swollen and aching from neglect, your fingers sneaking between your bodies to rub at it, pussy clenching almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Yeah baby, just like that, milk niichan for all the cum he’s got,”

The praise, mixed with a direct command, has your fingers speeding up, moving in rapid circular motions, that cord of heat in your stomach coiling tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until it finally snaps, your little cunt throbbing as you gush around his cock.

He follows immediately after with a dark growl of your name, hips stilling as he finally cums, pinning you against the wall, cockhead pressed tightly against your sore cervix.

It’s thick, scalding, and copious, wrecked little noises getting caught in your throat as his cock pulses, filling you with endless spurts of cum; so much, too much, and you’re sure your womb isn’t nearly big enough to take it all, positive that it’s leaking out of you, running down your ass and down his balls.

You still haven’t caught your breath by the time Touya’s releasing you, hands firm on your hips as he places you gently on your feet, keeping you steady as your legs shake. You can still feel his cum leaking out of you, and you wish you had something better than your thin panties to keep it inside of you. With a pout, you tell him so, voice absolutely ruined as you wheeze out, “I-I wish I had a-a plug, niichan, to hold all of your cum inside me,”

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes twinkling as he gazes down at you, brushing his slender fingers through your sweaty hair. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

You don’t remember much of the drive home, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids from falling shut. Touya’s half dried cum is sticky—now practically gelatinous—in your panties and the mere thought of it makes you whimper, wiggling your hips a little, trying to shuffle closer to him.

It makes you feel needy. It makes him feel wanted.

“Niichan’s here, baby,” he’s murmuring into your hair as he readjusts his arm around your waist, pulling both your legs over his lap, your side still pressed firmly against his. “Niichan’s here,”

A pitiful whine slips from your lips, little fingers curling in his hoodie as warm hands travel up your dress, kneading the supple flesh of your thighs. Fingers press into the bruises he knows are there without even having to look, smirking at the way you hiss, contrasted by the way your thighs spread just a bit more, giving him more room to work, to play. The pads of his fingers graze the tiny raised cuts that the rough denim of his jeans left behind, tracing the raised little scabs.

“Sleep,” he tells you softly. “You did so good today, such a good little girl for me, my best girl,”

And his voice is the most soothing lullaby, smooth like melted platinum and quiet enough that only you can hear it, undoubtedly drowned out to the others by the staticky car radio.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The dark bedroom is bleary, as if you were gazing at it though a thick slab of glass, eyes scanning the room slowly, mumbling out something that’s unintelligible even to yourself.

You’re not exactly sure how you got here, sitting on one of the twin beds in yours and Touya’s shared bedroom, propped up against the tiny headboard like a doll.

Touya’s murmuring to you softly as tender hands find the hem of your dress, tugging it up slowly, slowly, slowly, a low whine getting caught in your throat as your soft skin is exposed to the cool air, until he’s removed it from you completely. The clasp at the back of your bra snaps, and you want to tell him to be more gentle, this is your favourite bra, but you can’t seem to make your tongue move, the muscle sitting slimy and heavy in your mouth. Your vision disappears entirely for a second as something soft is slipped over your head, your body engulfed in the scent of hickory wood and Marlboro smoke.

Then large hands are all over you, maneuvering you onto your side then rolling you onto your back, gently prying your thighs open a moment later as he kneels between them, the springy mattress dipping with his weight.

“Touya-nii,” his name escapes your lips in a jumbled whine of protest.

“Shh, baby,” he hushes you, pulling your soiled panties down your legs.

Every muscle in your body aches, weighted down with fatigue from the long day, a few weak kicks—more of a fluttering of your legs, really—being all you’re able to manage in resistance.

“Hurts, niichan,” you whimper, through your eyelids are already falling shut again, exhaustion tugging at your consciousness gently.

“I know, princess,” he responds, and you’re just awake enough for the words to register, brow furrowing. His body heat disappears for a moment from between your thighs as he leans over to grab something, then returns, waves of comforting warmth rolling off of him.

Your body flinches ever so slightly as you feel something cold and smooth being spread across your swollen folds and puffy little hole. Cream, your mind supplies feebly.

“Niichan—”

“Quiet now,” he says, voice firmer than before. An order, this time. “Go to sleep, baby, and let niichan take care of this,”

Hot, tingling sparks blossom deep in the pit of your stomach, making your entire body buzz, like you’re high off him again, the sensation causing your chest to swell. This is what love feels like—Touya rubbing cool, soothing cream into your raw skin as he murmurs soft praises to you—you’re absolutely positive about it.

“I love you,”

The words leave your lips as a dreamy sigh, body finally relaxing against the mattress again.

He presses a tender kiss to your inner thigh, the soft skin a mosaic of crimson and violet from his previous ministrations. “I love you more,”

And that’s the last thing you feel, the last thing you hear as your mind slowly drifts into unconsciousness, filled with hazy images of a pretty boy with glowing sapphires for eyes and ivory for hair, of slim veiny hands decorated with the most magnificent black ink, the pads of their fingertips dancing along your skin, of a deep, sultry voice smoother than satin murmuring how much it loves you as lips crawl up your body—up your thighs, over your stomach and ribs, along the curve of you neck, until finally, they reach yours.