#so mad from work today the only solution was

[claycoded]

Here’s the thing…….. shrimps is bugs

[mrsbarnesblog]

personal pillow

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader

Summary: You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: established relationship, avengers tease bucky, he's a grumpy old man, fluff

Author’s note: soft bucky is my everything, and I literally cannot imagine him acting another way.

Bucky Barnes wasn't the most affectionate and nice person on earth. Always grumpy and with an attitude, didn’t like physical touch, and hated being vulnerable and soft. However, when you were alone in your room, he was a completely different man. 

The only thing that he loved more than you, food, and old music was sleep. He hated it right after the Winter Soldier program was removed because of the violent and dark nightmares, but you were the solution to all of his problems. 

He loved sleeping with you. On you, to be exact. 

He accidentally discovered it once when he just threw himself onto your bed and somehow laid with his head on your stomach. 

You didn't know why your boyfriend liked it so much, but since that day he always ended up on your stomach, your boobs, or between your thighs with hands wrapped around your body, and it was almost impossible to drag him away. You always ran your fingers through his fluffy hair in soothing motions to ease the tension in his body, and it worked every single time. Bucky slept like a baby in your arms. 

Today he left early in the morning for training with Sam, but then he had a lot of paper work and something that needed to be done in the city, so you didn’t really talk to or see him. He only left a kiss on your forehead while you were still in bed and sent you a few messages throughout the day. 

It was your day off, and you didn’t feel like doing anything special or being productive. So you brought a fluffy comforter from your bed, a cup of hot chocolate, and sat in the common room to watch a movie on a big ass screen that Tony bought to show off.

When the film almost ended and you were already kind of sleepy, you heard firm footsteps from the hall. The tall and big body was standing in the doorframe, but you didn’t see your boyfriend’s face yet; it was pretty dark in the room.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” You paused your movie and squinted to see Bucky. 

“Fucking amazing. A bunch of assholes and tons of reports that they sent me last minute.” He grumbled, coming closer to you. “Let’s go, I need my personal pillow or I won’t fall asleep.” 

You tried to hold back a laugh when you finally saw his face. Tired and frowned with pouty lips like a child. Bucky was painfully cute when he was a little bit mad and annoyed, and you didn’t want to do anything more than pinch his cheeks and kiss all of his face.

“You look so cute, gosh.” You smiled, biting your lip. “But I have only... fifteen minutes of my movie left, and I really want to finish it today. Do you want to lay on me here for now?” You opened the covers and pointed at your belly. 

Bucky stood there silently for a few seconds, still with a frown on his face.

“I don’t want these douchebags to see us here.”

“They won’t; Steve is on the mission, Natasha is already in her room, and Sam went on a date. C’mon, I’ll massage your head.” That was everything you needed to convince your boyfriend to give up. He took off his shoes and laid on top of you with his head on your stomach and hands around your waist. 

You covered your bodies with a duvet and stroked his hair, brushing it over and over again with your fingers. You felt that Bucky pulled up your shirt a little bit, and as soon as his cheek met with your warm skin, he heavily sighted, finally feeling safe and calm.

“That's okay, baby.” You cooed, massaging his scalp. “Do you want to talk about your day? What made you upset?” 

“No, just want to feel you, doll. Missed you so much.” He mumbled against your stomach and closed his eyes as your soft touches made his body almost melt into yours. 

“I missed you too. I’ll just finish my film and we’ll go to sleep, ‘kay?” Bucky just slightly nodded, already feeling too sleepy to actually say something. 

It didn’t take him too much time to fall asleep completely. Your gentle scratches and the way you rolled his hair around your finger, along with the muffled sound of the TV and soft cover on top of him, did their work, and Bucky was peacefully snoring on you in a span of a few seconds. 

You weren’t much better than him; your eyes started closing as soon as the credit scene began, and you didn’t have enough power in you to resist it, especially when a giant, hot human pillow was sleeping on top of you. 

So you just gave up. 

The first thing that you heard when you woke up was mumbled talk and laughter. Your eyes snapped open because your brain completely forgot that you, in fact, weren’t in your room or bed.

The common room was filled with almost everyone. For fuck’s sake, when was the last time you saw that many Avengers together in one room? And now all of them were sitting on the other couches and armchairs, looking at you and laughing. Well, they weren’t looking at you; they were looking at Bucky, who was still glued to your body. 

You quickly sat straight, now completely awake. The movements disturbed Bucky’s peaceful sleep, making him grumble and try to get you back under him.

“I didn’t know that Cyborgs could be so clingy.” The most annoying voice Bucky could’ve possibly heard in the morning filled his ears, and he lost every last piece of sleep in his body, sitting up on the couch. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Willson? All of you, in fact.” Bucky looked around the room, seeing Sam, Nat, Wanda, Tony, and Clint with shit-eating smirks on their faces; Thor, who looked just happy to be involved; and Steve and Bruce, who actually felt uncomfortable to be there.

“Sorry, Buck, they just...” Steve wanted to apologize but was disturbed by Tony.

“Sam just told all of us to come here a few minutes ago because he had something hilarious. And look! The strong and scary Winter Soldier is being a softie for his girlfriend.” Tony laughed, almost dropping his cup of coffee. You didn’t even expect that, but you felt a sudden wave of anger going through your body because you were already sick of everyone pushing Bucky’s buttons. 

“Or maybe all of you should just mind your own business? You both would actually know something about Bucky if you tried anything besides making fun of him or trying to get him angry. You don’t even understand how fucking hard it is for him to communicate after everything that happened, and all of you are getting on my nerves. Just a bunch of children, I swear.” You growled, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s hand to drag him away. 

Everyone was surprised by your words, and even Bucky looked at you with a weird expression on his face but still stood up, holding your hand. 

“Sweets, it’s just a joke—” Natasha started.

“No, it’s not. I love you, Nat, I really do, but it’s not funny.” You looked around the room. “Y’all probably don’t understand the effect that your words  have, but I see in private what none of you can. And when I tell you that your mockery and jokes make everything worse, I really mean it.” Bucky awkwardly shifted near you under all of the eyes that were glued to him. He felt exposed by the way everyone saw how he showed his affection to you and that he, in fact, was a really touchy and sensitive person. “C’mon, Buck, everything’s okay.” You looked back at him with your usual soft eyes, and his whole attention was now focused completely on you. 

Everyone saw how Bucky’s body language changed when you talked to him, and even if someone like Tony or Sam couldn’t admit it out loud, the thought of being too harsh on Bucky appeared in their heads. 

Without any further words, you lead your boyfriend out of the common room, leaving the Avengers in an awkward silence. 

The comfort of your and Bucky’s shared room made you deeply inhale as soon as the door was closed behind you two. Before you could even say something, two strong hands wrapped around you from the back, and Bucky buried his face into your neck.

“Thank you, doll.” Your hand reached behind you to gently stroke Bucky's hair. “You didn’t have to do it, really. I got used to their words.” He squeezed you tighter, pressing his chest into your back.

“That’s not okay, baby. I’m sick of that. You may not say it to me or even admit it to yourself, but I see that it hurts you.” You turned around in his hands, placing your own on both sides of his face. “But that’s okay that you want to cuddle, to sleep on me, to be held. Really. There is nothing wrong with it. I’m really honored to be the person who is allowed to see your soft side.”

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, doll, you can’t even fucking imagine,” Bucky whispered before leaning forward to kiss you.

“I love you, James.”

“Can we stay here today? I don’t really want to talk with anyone besides my sweet and protective girl.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his teasing tone. 

“Of course we can, Buck.” That was your last word before Bucky lifted you off the ground, put you on the soft blankets of your bed, and climbed on top of you, happily wrapping around your body and falling asleep. 

[likedovesinthewindd]

CLOSE TO YOU — a. donaldson

summary: your marriage to art has been on the rocks for months now, but he refuses to give up on it | content/warning: failmarriage au, arguing, undescribed marital issues, marriage counseling, mentions of divorce, angst to smut/fluff. | wc: ± 3370

For as long as you've known Art, you never knew him as a quiet person. He was perhaps a little shy at first, but he was known for his outgoing personality amongst his friends and anyone who had the opportunity to an exciting conquest with him back in Standford, which admittedly was a handful.

He's changed somewhat since then, settled down, and created a successful yet comfortable life for himself, but he still stayed that same charming, outgoing man you fell in love with back in college.

You never knew Art to be a quiet person, which is why the silence that filled the car unnerved you so much.

You spared him a look from where you sat quietly in the passenger's seat; he didn't look mad, just very deep in thought as he held the steering wheel with a stiff, white-knuckling grip, eyes dead set on the stretch of road in front of him.

Usually, the silence would be filled by mindless chatter, Art always finding something to talk about, and if it was quiet, it would feel comfortable and light. Right now, it felt like there was some uncomfortable tension in the air, thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

You sighed softly, resting your head on your palm as you chose to stare out the window, watching the various objects move past in a unanimous blur. Your thoughts circled back to today's session, your seventh one to be exact, and it felt like you have gotten nowhere with it. You'll also admit that it was partially because of you and your initial withdrawal to the whole situation.

Art was the one who suggested marriage counseling, in his way it might've been his last attempt at salvaging what was left of the marriage and because you were just as desperate for a solution, you agreed to it.

You had hoped that the tense atmosphere would dissipate by the time the two of you made it home, but by now you were getting ready for bed and he had still only spoken a few sentences to you. You were already underneath the sheets, rubbing lotion into your arms when he made his way into your bedroom, hair still wet and body still glistening from his shower.

You watched the way he moved around the room almost stiffly, watching the way his back muscles moved and contacted as he quietly dressed himself before he moved to sit at his side of the bed. He let out a soft sigh, and at the sound, you moved from beneath the sheets until you sat behind him, rubbing his back softly as your hand moved over the soft cotton of his shirt.

"Art," you said softly. He hummed, turning his head slightly as he looked at you over his shoulder. "You alright?" you asked, and he sighed again, nodding before he put his head in his hands. "I'm okay, just frustrated," he answered as he lifted his head again, hands smoothing his hair down before they dropped down to his knees. You moved back to your side of the bed, sitting on top of the sheets and crossing your legs as he turned his body, now facing you fully.

"I feel like the counseling isn't working," he said softly as he looked you at you, half scared at what your reaction would be. You bit the inside your cheek as he continued. "We've had several sessions, and it feels like we're still exactly where we started," he added, "It's also difficult when you're not cooperating." His voice was softer and tentative, like he was approaching a wild animal in distress with now idea of how it would react.

You frowned at his words. "What?" you asked. "You can't expect her to just know what's wrong if you don't talk. You're always so closed off at every session. What's the point of going if you're not gonna try and talk?" he asked. You sighed defeatedly, today's session (and those before) replaying in your head, making you cringe slightly at how uncomfortable and stressful the whole ordeal has been.

"I'm trying, Art," you said weakly, "but it's difficult just talking about our personal life to some stranger."

"Then how did you expect this to work? Why would you agree to this if you knew that's how you felt?" he asked, slight irritation now audible in his voice. "I don't know, I wanted to make you happy?" you said as you shrugged. A dry laugh left Art's mouth at your words. "To make me happy?" he asked in disbelief before he shook his head disapprovingly. "Y'know what would make me happy?" he asked, not waiting for a response before continuing. "I'd be so happy if you actually tried to fix our marriage, if you actually cared."

"I do care," you said, the same irritation in Art now reflecting in your own voice. "It doesn't look like it," he quickly retorted with a scoff. "How could you say that? That I don't care about our marriage?" you asked, watching as he angrily rubbed over his face, his gold wedding band catching your eyes. The sight of it made your stomach churn nervously, the idea that your marriage may be unsalvageable at this point, making you feel light-headed with anxiety. "I just miss the way things were," he spoke in a softer tone, "I just want us to be okay agian."

"I want that too, Art," you said softly as he nodded. "Then show it," he said, "show me that's what you want."

"How?" you asked, growing more frustrated at his defensiveness. "I want you to actually try with counseling," he answered, and you groaned loudly. "I am trying!" you said irritated, "I just need some time."

"We don't have time," he reasoned, "our marriage can't depend on whenever you feel like it." "That's not what I'm saying," you said angrily. "Why are you trying to make it look like I want our marriage to fall apart?"

"Because I don't think you're taking this seriously, this," he gestured between the two of you, "maybe it's beyond the point of fixing." As soon as Art saw the way your face changed at his words, felt the way the mood shifted completely, he wanted to swallow the words. But he was too angry, and now it was too late because he had already said it, and it already hammered the final nail into the coffin.

"What are you trying to say?" you asked softly, voice suddenly small. He didn't answer, his fingers nervously fidgeting with his wedding ring as he saw the hurt on your face. When it was clear you weren't going to get a response, you sighed defeatedly, grabbing your pillow before you wordlessly made your way to the guest bedroom.

⊹ ˚.

As you laid in the smaller bed that night, your head was reeling. The pit in your stomach made it impossible to fall asleep and every time you closed your eyes, your mind started torturing you with the sight of Art's exhausted and angry face staring back at you as he said the words you thought you'd never hear. The words both of you had feared for so long.

The door suddenly cracked open, light spilling in through the gap and shining onto your back as it faced Art, standing in the doorway as he watched your silhouette's soft breathing underneath the sheets. He quietly made his way into the room until he reached the edge of your bed, planting himself there softly as his hand gently rubbed over your arm.

He knew you weren't asleep, but he still kept his voice soft as he spoke into the quiet space. "Sweetheart?" he tried softly, hand gently pulling the blanket down your arm before he planted a kiss to your warm skin. A few more followed, his lips touching you tentatively. "Can we talk? Please?" he spoke against your skin, his breath tickling your arm and sending a shiver up your spine. Reluctantly, you turned around, propping yourself on your elbows as you looked up at him.

Art's first thought when he looked at you was that you looked so beautiful, the hallway's light catching your face and brightening your eyes as they stared at him with sadness still present in them. He could see the still wet tracks your tears had left behind, your eyes slightly puffy and nose stuffy. And even though he felt terrible — wanting the world to swallow him whole and banish him for ever making you cry, he still thought you looked so beautiful.

His hand held the side of your face gently, thumb wiping away the last remnants of tears as he stared at you wordlessly, silently rejoicing when you didn't push away his touch but welcomed it, eyes briefly closing when you felt the warmth against your skin. Art was always such a gentle lover, always so pliant ro your needs and caring, even now, after what you'd consider the biggest fight you've ever had.

"I'm so sorry for making you cry, baby," he said softly, watching the way you brows furrow at the memory of a while ago, willing yourself to not cry again. "I should've never said those terrible things to you. You didn't deserve that," he added, thumb still gently rubbing over the apple of your cheek.

You took a deep breath as you tried to find the right words in your head. "Do you really think I don't care about our marriage, Art?" you asked softly, voice scratchy from crying. Art immediately shook his head vehemently, frowning at your words. "No, of course not," he said, the other hand joining as he now held your face in his full grasp, "I was just— I was angry, and I wanted to get back at you. It was childish and mean, and I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I feel awful,"

You took ahold of his wrist, relishing in his warmth and presence as you felt yourself finally calming down. "I'm sorry too," you said softly, your thumbs rubbing over his wrists as you held him close. "No, you don't have to apologize," he said, pulling your face closer to yours and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You wanted to sob at how gently he treated you. "No Art, I was—"

"Let me show you how sorry I am," he spoke, kissing down your cheek, along your jaw and down your neck. His lips quickly found that special spot behind your ear that made you shiver. He moved impossibly closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body as you held the back of his head. Before you could completely lose yourself in the feeling of his body molding itself to yours, you found your voice of reason. "Art, we should probably—" you started in what would would've been a weak protest, but he interrupted you.

"Let me do this for you, please," he pleaded as he pulled away from your neck and gently placed his forehead against yours, big blue eyes set on you with an almost desperate look. His grip on you tightened ever so slightly, and even if you wanted to do the logical thing and rather sit down like two adults and talk things out, the dull ache between your legs was drowning out any reasonable thoughts you may have had.

You only nodded, and Art didn't waste a second more, lips pressing to yours in a kiss that was desperate and sloppy and filled with passion. He moaned into your mouth when you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to greedily lick inside your mouth.

Art lightly pushed forward until you were lying flat on your back and he found his place between your spread legs. The silky fabric of your nightdress rode up your thighs as you spread your legs further apart to make space for his broad figure, leaving him with the sight of your lavender colored cotton panties, the small damp spot in the center making him a little breathless.

He continued kissing you dumb, his hands feeling and grabbing every part of you as if he was trying to refamiliarize himself with the territory that is your soft body. His mouth once again found its place on your neck, burying his nose into the skin there and smelling the magnolia and coconut of your lotion. His mouth found your sweet spot once again, and he sucked and bit at the area greedily. Your legs clamped together at the feeling, obstructed by his hips that were steadily grinding down onto yours, creating a delicious friction that had you feeling delirious.

"Take off your shirt, Art," you managed through soft mewls, hands already lifting the material by his stomach. He rose quickly, taking the shirt off in one quick pull over his head. You were mesmerized by the way his lithe muscles moved, exposing himself to you as the ajar door cast his beautifully pale body in a soft yellow glow.

You propped yourself onto your right arm as your left hand moved up the hard plains of his stomach, enjoying the feeling of every ridge and muscles underneath your palm. He grabbed onto your hand, bringing it to his mouth as he planted a soft kiss to each knuckle, lips lingering on your wedding ring before opening your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

He kissed down your arm, his lips leaving a hot trail behind and setting your whole body alight. Your head dropped back down onto the pillow as his mouth was now on your collarbones, kissing and biting there as his hands moved up your body until they got ahold of your tits. He squeezed the soft mounds of flesh in his big hands, pressing them together before pressing more kisses to the sliver of skin poking out from the cups of your nightdress. You placed one of your hands over his, encouraging him to tighten his grip as you arched into his touch. He obeyed, giving them a harder squeeze this time and gawking at the way you moaned softly, nodding happily as he fondled your tits.

Suddenly, they were met with the cold air of the bedroom as Art harshly pulled down the straps of your dress, exposing your pretty tits to him before his mouth was your left breast and his left hand went to softly massage the other.

You further arched into the feeling of his mouth on you, holding him to you by the back of his head, fingers curling into the soft blond locks there and pulling on them whenever he gave you a particularly harsh suck.

"Art," you moaned quietly as your hips bucked into his, shivering at the just there stimulation to your clit. His mouth detached from your breast before he was moving up to kiss you again, almost doubling over at the way you moaned into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He pulled away too quick for your liking, looking down at you as his nose nudged against yours. "What do you want?" he asked breathlessly, hips still rolling into yours at a pace too slow to really get you over that peak but enough to keep you on the edge of it. "Tell me what you want, baby. I wanna give it to you. Y'know I'd give you whatever you need," he asked again. "Y'know what I want, Art," you practically whined, and he smiled, giving you another quick kiss before he was moving down your body.

Soon, he was face to face with your pretty panties, staring right at the now significantly bigger wet spot as you spread your legs wider. He placed a soft kiss over your panties, right on your mound before he placed another kiss right over your drenched hole, which clenched around nothing when he finally placed a kiss right over your clit. He looked up to find you already peering down at him, eyes desperate and pleading as you softly scratched the back of his back of his head, trying to urge him on.

He was quick to rip the ruined fabric off of you, throwing it somewhere in the half lit room before he grabbed your legs by the back of your knees to bring them over his shoulders. The first feeling of his mouth on you had you gasping, the sound ending in an abrupt moan as you felt him licking through your folds.

He ate you out like a man starved, moaning into your pussy every time you pulled at his hair, the vibrations only adding to the heavenly feeling. He licked into you like it was pure honey, tongue dipping into your wet hole and lapping up all of your juices.

When his mouth found your clit and sucked lightly, rolling the small pearl over his tongue, he had you seeing stars, babbling praises through broken moans. You were essentially just using his pretty face to get off, nose nudging against your clit as you basically rode his face, and he'd let you every time.

His own hips were pushing into the mattress below, looking for any bit of relief as he watched the way your face twisted in pleasure. The sight alone had him throbbing painfully, and he had to stop himself from coming in his boxes like a teenager.

He was absolutely starstruck at how beautiful you looked when you came, eyes still on you as he lapped at your pussy hungrily as you practically humped his face, riding out your orgasm before you went boneless and you pulled at his hair with a small whine, telling him you were overstimulated. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he planted kisses as he moved back up your body, up your sternum, and between the valley of your breasts before his lips found yours again.

"So fucking beautiful," he spoke against your lips as he kissed you sloppily, "prettiest girl in the world. I'm so lucky to call you mine." You smiled against his mouth, hand moving down his body until you softly touched him over the material of his boxers. He moaned, hips thrusting into your hand as you tightened your grip on him. "Art," you whispered, hoping he'd get the message, which he did, thankfully. He hastily pushed his boxers off before he was gripping himself at the base and lining himself up at your entrance.

The stretch felt otherworldly, just the right amount of pressure without it actually hurting, thanks to how wet you already were. His was knocking the breath out of you, but your greedy pussy kept sucking him in until you were full to the brim. The both of you took a few deep breaths as Art's head dropped to your neck, planting soft kisses there as he waited for you to adjust.

When you indicated you were ready, he pulled out just a little before he was pushing back into you again. He grabbed the backs of your knees as he brought your legs higher up on his hips. There was nothing too special about the position as Art slowly fucked you in missionary, but it still felt so good. Everything with Art always felt so good, he always made you feel so good, and you were already seeing stars as he slowly fucked into you.

You held him close to you, relishing in his warmth as he babbled mindlessly. "God, I love you so much," he said, "M'so sorry I was so mean to you. I don't deserve you. Love you so much. Love this pussy too, love everything about you."

"I love you too, baby," you said breathlessly through a small laugh that turned into a moan when he hit that special spot inside you. "Oh baby, right there. Right there, fuck," you exclaimed, "I'm so close."

His hand moved down your body until he reached your pussy, finding your clit and rubbing gently. He hissed when he felt you clench around his dick, sucking him right back in every time he pulled out. "M'gonna cum, please don't stop baby," you moaned, bolts of pleasure shooting up you spine as you arched your back, tits pressing against Art's taunt chest.

He was in complete awe of you; watching the way your mouth parted in a soundless moan as the last wave of plessure washed over you. He kept his eyes on you as you came, watching the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head as a few short breaths and then a gasp left your pretty lips. The sight beneath him paired with the way your pussy was sporadically tightening around him was enough to send him over the edge as well, and a few short thrusts later he cumming right along you.

He practically collapsed on top of you, still shifting most of his weight as to not crush you, but you welcomed it, humming happily as he laid his head against your chest as the two of you caught your breath. After a few moments, he lifted his head, planting a kiss to your damp forehead, watching the way you smiled with your eyes still closed. He pulled out slowly, apologizing softly when you gave light protest, before he made his way to the bathroom.

You opened your eyes, blinking away the white splotches in your vision as you took a deep breath. Art returned with a hot towel, quietly cleaning you up and fixing your nightdress before he was lifting you into his arms and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He held you close to him, arm wrapped around you as you as you laid with your head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. "I'm gonna try and open up a little more in our next session," you spoke up in the silence, "I want this to work out for us." Art kissed the top of your head. "We'll go at whatever pace, there's no rush. I shouldn't have made you feel like there ever was," he spoke against your hair before he pulled away. You turned your head so that you were looking at him.

For a moment you had almost asked him if he really thought you'd be able to fix this marriage, but you didn't want to disturb the peace, so you just gave him a small smile, kissing his chest before you placed your head back down, drifting to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

[signed-loni]

HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE. I was in class today, and yk, i just couldn’t help but be bored and thought to myself “hey, what about head canons for sal and brainiac!y/n?” Good idea if i do say so myself! I also thought about whether it should be todds sister, but i changed my mind since idk i just, idk. SOOOO HERES THATT and enjoy! :)

(Lets just appreciate this amazing work. Truly, props to the artist this is so, yes.) (@paint_soda on ig!)

How it happened HCs

Tbh, the school didn’t see this coming. A brainiac with a person like sal? No one saw it coming, not even Larry, and Larry knows everything about his best friend. From his measurements (not like that) to his least favorite kind of pasta

and you didn’t really see it coming either! You honestly just fell really hard one day because sal got one of the hardest questions you’ve come upon, right, before you

You gotta say, you’re a sucker for the smart ones

While you’ve never seen his face, you have seen him around school with his small group of friends

You have your little clique, but recently, they’ve been shit talking you.

Saying things about you, calling you names and starting rumors, things like slut and whore being tossed around since one of your friends ex boyfriend had a crush on you

Youre not the kind of stereotypical nerd. Oh no, you arent.

You are most definitely not

Sal fell for you, mostly because of YOUR brains to

He likes that in a person. Someone who’s pretty, and smart!? He’s on the floor.

General relationship HCs

You don’t know how to explain it, well you do, but you always say it in the same way

Sal is the best boyfriend ever.

Sal knows everything thing about you, and you know everything about him

He knows your least favorite way to solve a problem for goodness sake

He knows the way you play with your fingers when your focusing on finding the solution to a question

He knows how you sit when you’re uncomfortable

He knows everything

You know almost the same amount he knows about you, about him

You know how he hold onto his pigtails when he’s afraid, you know how insecure he is about his face

He’s glad he’s dating someone like you. Its not like he’s dumb or anything, but he knows you definitely helped Larry, and he knows that he helped you get out of your toxic friend group.

You don’t talk about it much, but he knows

He’s seen it

He’s seen them look at you and him holding hands in the hallways, he’s seen them whisper to each other while looking at you, laughing to themselves.

It makes him mad

You always tell him your a big girl and can handle it, but he knows it kills you to see your once friends, now hate you because of one silly thing

If having rizz was a crime, you would be arrested

Cause MAN can you make sal FLUSTERED

The compliments, the PDA, the PINKY HOLDING. Sal has stopped working once you hold his pinky for the first time

He doesn’t mind holding hands, but you know he prefers pinkies.

Its amazing how you don’t react when seeing his face to him. Larry didn’t react, but he barely got to see. You got to see for a full minute. And sal thought you hated him because of how much you didnt react

Which sounds silly, but to him, it wasnt

He thought you hated his face so much, you decided it was to horrid to even comment on

But all those thoughts were cleared when you kissed him

Kissed his lips

Kissed his scars

Kissed him

He knew right then and there, that you were the one for him. His and his only

[mitch-the-silly]

Could you write a nsfw Vox x fem!reader where Vox comes home from work, feeling really stressed and asks for the reader’s consent if he could relive that stress on her? Like he’s being really rough on her and maybe praising her too? 👉👈 Nothing too extreme though, and I find consent sexy.

HELL YEAHHH I CAN!! This is exactly what I was waiting for!!! A reason to write Vox smut. What can I say? I'm but a simple creature.

Vox would for sure do that relieving stress via sex thing. Especially since he's always pressed about something and because I like to think he's at least a bit of a manchild.

Anyway, thanks for the request!!

"Take a Breather or Two...?"

Vox x fem!Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI!!!

Warnings: NSFW, Stress relief sex, praise kink, rough sex

You sat silently on the bed that you and Vox shared. With your headphones on, listen to whatever it was that the shuffle button deemed fit for that moment. The feeling of the silky, dark grey sheets against your skin felt heavenly. Vox was going to be home any moment now, and you’d be there to greet him as always. It was simply the way things had been for a while now. He’d work, and you’d spend some much-deserved time with him at home.

You heard the door open and immediately sat up on the bed. However, the slamming of the front door was what made you raise a brow.

“I can’t fucking believe it!” Vox yelled from the living room. He finally entered your shared bedroom, untying his bowtie and sitting at the edge of the bed. He stared at the wall for a second then, covering his eyes with his hands, he kicked the air in frustration. “Ugh, you have no idea what a day I’ve had…” He sighed.

“What happened? Tell me…” You spoke, placing your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. He let out a small relieved breath as you did this. After that, he continued.

“First of all, Alastor fucking tried me again today! Not to mention that I had to cancel three of the ten shows that generated the most revenue because the lead actress was taken out in the last extermination and we didn’t know because she went on vacation and said she’d be back in a month. And on top of that Valentino has been throwing the most stupid tantrums. Ughhh!” He vented, “I need to take out some steam.” He gave you a bit of an unrecognizable look. He seemed to be generating an idea. However, there was no way for you to know without asking.

“That sounds like a good solution, Voxxie. You got something in mind? I can see the gears turning in your head~” You teased.

After pondering his idea for a brief moment, Vox continued proceeding to speak his mind. “I want you.” He spoke bluntly. “Yes, fucking your brains out would make me feel so much better.” He added, his breath shuddering slightly. He scooted closer toward you and caressed your face gently. “Can I do that baby~? I’ll only do it if you let me…” he pouted. Almost begging, but based on his tone, it was apparent he was willing to drop the subject if you did not want to do it.

You nodded softly. But that wasn’t enough confirmation for him. “No no, use your words.” He replied in a commanding tone.

“Yes, I’d like that. It sounds like fun.~” You spoke, this time telling him outright that you wanted this.

Vox nodded, “Ok, I’ll try not to be too rough. Just… fuck you’re so fucking sexy…~” He sighed, letting out a desperate little exhale.

Vox reached for your hips, instantly pulling off your pants along with your panties. He wasn’t one for teasing when he needed it. Without wasting a second, he split your legs open, gently tracing the inside of your upper thighs. He licked his lips desperately, determined to make you feel good before he fucked his anger out on you. He leaned his head towards your private area, giving your clit a gentle lick.

You shuddered in pleasure, letting out a small whimper. This drove him absolutely mad. So much so, that he could feel the need to continue this coming from within his core. So he licked along your labia, circling your clit hungrily until you were just as wet as he wanted you. The sounds of your juices gushing as he licked you up, oh it was making him want to do all sorts of things to you. And thus, after hearing how wet you were now, he stopped.

He sat up, looking at you with a certain hunger in his eyes. There was a primal need for more taking over him, not quite clouding his mind but filling him with a haze. “You’re being such a good girl for me.~” Vox cooed, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down to his knees. He scrambled to his waist area and took his cock in his hand. Needily aligning himself to your entrance. The sight of his cock on your labia made him shiver impatiently. He rubbed his tip on your clit, gasping out a small shudder

After getting a gasp out of you, he smirked, inserting himself into your entrance. “So tight for me~” He chuckled, very slowly moving in and out of you. You moaned relentlessly, wrapping your legs around him as he mercilessly bucked his hips into you. The sensation made you moan out his name. Reaching out to hold him, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He indulged in its taste, savoring your mouth with absolute ecstasy. The second he parted the kiss, he bucked his hips faster.

Vox’s screen began to lag, the image of his eyes freezing up as he looked directly at you. “Fuck~ You’re so fucking pretty like this~ So good for me~” Vox groaned, his voice distorted and sort of glitched out. It was way too obvious he was enjoying himself.

“Ahh~! V-vox, I’m… I’m close…~” You whined, bouncing back as he pumped himself into you.

“You wanna cum baby~? You want me to make you cum~?” Vox cooed, groaning, desperately chasing his own orgasm. You nodded desperately, whining, feeling a warmth pool up in your insides. He was making you feel so good that you couldn’t turn thoughts into words anymore.

Vox let out a laugh, an amalgamation of amusement and absolute arousal. The flat-screen television he had as a head began sparking as his strokes became more uneven and deep. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me~ So fucking good…~ You’re gonna make me cum so deep inside you…~” He slurred, seemingly so high on the pleasure that he didn’t seem to give a shit about the malfunctioning lights in the room. He took in the sound of your moans and pants, letting the vibrations course through his being. He had to feel you cum around his cock. He needed to feel it. So he reached his hand down towards your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. You squirmed under his touch, an orgasm approaching faster than before, and you bucked your hips into him. And as you began to get tighter and tighter, the lights began to flash faster. “Yes~… Yes…~ So fucking pretty all stuffed up with my cock…~ Look at that beautiful fucking face…~” he groaned in absolute adoration.

And suddenly, with a hard thrust and a loud grunt, Vox found the climax he so sought, darkness engulfing the once-lit room, his monitor showing the “ERROR” screen. Yet, he didn’t dare stop the way he was touching you. Oh no, he needed to feel you reach your climax as well. He rubbed faster and faster, enduring the overstimulation of keeping you around him, your walls pulsating. He began to whine a bit himself, in all honesty. Until, finally, you arched your back in, your hips spasming as you eventually reached that orgasm he just needed you to have. The sensation of your walls around him, driving him absolutely mad. So much so, that the room’s power returned, but only for the split second in which your walls squeezed him in the midst of your climax. He’d never felt this good before and he swore he wanted more of this.

He pulled out of you, wincing at the sensation and then collapsing next to you. He tried to catch his breath, looking at you doing the exact same thing. Once he felt his breathing was stable, he got up and looked around for a towel. Once he found one, he returned to your side and cleaned you up. “There you go…” He chuckled, “You know, I don’t think that in all the time I’ve been in hell or in the years I was alive I've had sex this good.~” He smirked, pulling you closer, holding you by the hips. Looking at you with that same look of adoration he gave you before.

“You’re not stressed anymore, huh?” You chuckled, gliding your index finger under the bottom part of his monitor; returning his playful little smirk.

“They can go fuck themselves. My steam’s been blown.” He responded, kissing your lips one more time. Needless to say, this might be his go-to when he gets this badly pissed off.

[cradle-quill]

Surrender, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (18+)

Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _

Daniel stopped typing and looked up from his manuscript. His eyes wandered to Isabelle, who sat at the other end of their shared table, supposedly chipping away at her latest work project. Her brow was stuck in a permanently furrowed state, and she was massaging her temples as she stared down at her computer screen. She had been at this for hours now. Every so often, a burst of inspiration would hit, and the sound of her acrylic nails tapping away at her mechanical keys would fill the room. Those bursts would not last, though. Before too long, Daniel would notice that the sound of his girlfriend working would disappear, replaced with a suffocating silence that lingered throughout the air, threatening to choke the life from him if he dared say a word.

It had been over thirty minutes since inspiration had last struck, and Daniel knew Isabelle was hitting her wall. He also knew she would be reluctant to admit as much. He looked back to his writing and saw he had hit his word count for the day, so he leaned back and took a deep breath. Daniel eyed Isabelle as he wondered if she was paying attention to his movements.

“You know, honey,” Daniel said with a hitch in his voice. “Maybe it’s about time for you to take a break. Relax for a bit and see if the solution comes to you.”

Isabelle shut her eyes, looking annoyed. She let out a hefty sigh. “I can’t take a break yet. I’m on the clock for another three hours, and I need to finish this by the end of the day.”

Daniel carefully considered his next words. He knew how she got when there were stakes involved, especially when those stakes involved her boss, Jim. He also knew Isabelle had a penchant for building these things up in her head and assuming the worst. “Do you actually need to finish this one today, or is it more so that you’re going to be mad at yourself if you don’t finish it?”

Isabelle shot two twin daggers for eyes at him, and he immediately got the memo. He leaned forward, and in his mind, he debated whether he wanted to continue speaking. In the end, his gut told him to keep going. “You know, honey,” he began, his voice as gentle and soothing as light rain tapping on a window. “It would probably be easier to get a lot more work done if you gave your mind the chance to rest. You don’t want to overwork yourself and fry those thoughts before they come to fruition.”

“And what would you know about that?” Isabelle snapped back. “It’s not like you work an actual job, anyway. I have deadlines, Daniel. People expect me to finish things by certain times, and I’m already behind as is. So please, lay off and let me handle it.”

By the time she reached the end of her little diatribe, she was nearly out of breath, huffing and puffing out of anger. Her cheeks were bright red, but they faded to a lighter shade of pink once she realized that her temper had gotten the better of her. Daniel just sat there, staring at her. There was no judgment in his eyes, not even pain. Isabelle struggled to read him, but as best she could tell, he was unbothered, though also very serious.

She knew she ought to apologize, and part of her even wanted to. It was the mature thing to do. Even if she had a point, she went about expressing that point in the absolute wrong way. At the same time, she could feel that another side of her, a more stubborn, petty side, had latched onto this little spat and decided it was unwilling to move an inch. While she sat there in her purgatory of mind, Daniel stood up from the table. She watched him close his laptop and wander over to where his coat was hung up next to the door.

“Daniel, wait…” She clambered out of her chair and onto her feet.

“Not another word.” Daniel’s tone was stern, but it held the same underlying gentleness as his earlier words. She knew he meant it. He did not want to hear another word escape from her lips, and as hard as that stubborn side of her tried to fight it, she managed to hold it back and keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. Instead, all she offered was a nod.

“I’ll be back soon. I won’t be long,” Daniel said before pulling on his coat and leaving through their apartment’s front door. On his way out, she heard the pitters and patters of his boots as he trailed down the stairs to the parking lot.

Minutes passed, and Isabelle had still not returned to her work. Her heart was nearly in her throat. She knew she had messed up, but she hoped it would not be as bad as it seemed. Daniel said he would not be long, and Isabelle would just have to trust that. He wouldn’t just leave her there, all alone, over one fight. If you could even call it a fight. It was more like a temper tantrum. She could hardly call herself a stressed out adult who had been snippy. It was more like she was a spiteful adolescent lashing out at a parent. It reminded her of her teenage years, and for that she felt deep shame.

When another few minutes had passed, and Isabelle still could not get her mind off of things, she forced herself to look back at her computer screen. Sitting there doing nothing would not help. At least if she got some work done, it would be a serviceable distraction until Daniel returned from wherever he had gone off to. He probably just went for a walk to clear his head, Isabelle thought. She hoped it was nothing more than that.

After around another thirty minutes, the familiar sound of Daniel’s boots trudging up the stairs to their apartment rang through the building, and Isabelle let out a sigh of relief she had been holding onto since the moment he left. When he returned through the door, Isabelle noticed something under his arm. Whatever it was, it was double-bagged in two white grocery bags, and she could not make out any signifying labels from beneath the coat of white.

“What’s that?” She asked, but Daniel did not answer.

“Come with me,” was all he said before making his way through the halls and into their bedroom. He had that same tone from earlier, the one that refused to be bargained with, so Isabelle did as she was told. She stood up from the table and followed him into their room, where Daniel was making the bed. He had opened their closet door and pulled out a black leather riding crop, which now sat beside him on the nightstand.

“No, absolutely not-” Isabelle said, but Daniel cut her off.

“You will not take that kind of tone with me. You know better than to speak to me that way, and you know better than to insult me.” He finished making the bed, ensuring it was nice and level for her to sprawl out on. “You also know that I was right about you needing a break. You would never have snapped at me like that if you weren’t so stressed. Now, be an obedient girl for me and lay flat on your stomach.”

Isabelle squirmed where she stood, clenching her legs together and trying not to show how obviously wiggly she was. Deep down, she loved when he got like this. She found him so… irresistible when he took charge. “I-I don’t think now is the t-time…” she trailed off, unable to finish her own thought. Her thoughts seemed to get lost somewhere along the way from her mind to her mouth, disappearing before she could bring them to life through her words.

Daniel simply ignored her. He wore that same unphased demeanor from earlier, and somehow, that made him seem even more threatening. With the crop and sheets all prepped and ready, he bent down and opened his mysterious package, revealing a large bag of disposable diapers, the kinds for little kids who still wet their beds.

“Absolutely not!” Isabelle declared. Her voice was forceful and unwavering. Yet when his eyes met hers, hers darted away. She could not hold his gaze.

“I’m not asking. Lay down on the bed, take your spanking, and then I’m going to put you into something more appropriate for the way you’ve been behaving.”

“I’m not… wearing that.” She folded her arms and gave her best pout.

Daniel turned to face her, not speaking for several seconds. Each subsequent second felt longer than the last, and with each one that passed, Isabelle felt her knees getting weaker, ready to give way. After a full minute of silent stillness, Daniel suddenly approached her. He got right up in her face, forcing her to stand at attention just to avoid him running into her.

Their faces were mere inches apart when he said, “I have seen your BDSMTest results. I know what you’re into. I know how you like to be treated.” He paused just long enough to let her mouth fall open, and for a breathless gasp to flee from her open lips. “You have a safe word. Use it. Or don’t use it, and lay down on the bed right this instant.”

Isabelle could not believe what she was hearing. Even less could she believe her legs started inching their way forward without her permission. Daniel was right. She had a safe word, but she did not utter it. Before she knew it, she was crawling onto the bed, sprawling out over it. Daniel came up from behind her and gave her a forceful push, slamming her stomach onto the bed as she let out a reluctant moan that refused to be held back. A familiar wetness dampened her inner thighs.

As she tried to compose herself, to gather her thoughts which seemed to float around aimlessly in the sea of her mind, there was a sharp sting against one of her butt cheeks, and then the other. The sound of the slaps came first, with the pain settling in whole seconds later. By the time she felt the pain from one, Daniel’s crop was already onto the next. She desperately clung to her physical presence, to keep herself grounded within the moment. She was an adult, a grown woman, someone who was self-sufficient and well adjusted. Except, she wasn’t any of those things.

With each strike of the crop, those illusions, those lies that she told herself, they disappeared bit by bit, until they had faded into nothing more than memories just out of reach. All that was left was herself. Her true self, the one she kept locked away where no one could see. In mere moments, Daniel had beaten it out of her. She could hardly even feel the pain anymore. Instead, it was as if she were floating in the middle of the ocean, with no land anywhere to be found. Or perhaps she was soaring through the air, diving between the clouds, with no rules or expectations hoisted upon her shoulders. She was free. In her bondage, in her submission to him, she was free.

When the spanking was finished, Isabelle’s bottom was bright red and sore. The earlier marks were even beginning to turn purple as her skin bruised. She just laid there, her mouth agape, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Daniel grabbed hold of her and pulled her into his embrace. “There, there, little one. It’s all over. I’ve got you now.” The sternness had left his voice. Now, there was just that same old gentleness, like the first autumn breeze of the year.

She sobbed into his shoulder, and all the while, he held her and cooed at her. He rocked her gently, careful not to exacerbate the pain coursing through her bruised bottom. Once she had settled down and centered herself right there in his presence, in his dominance, he laid her down on the bed. She went limp, ready to let him do whatever he pleased with her. However, Daniel did not take her as she thought he would. No, instead, he ripped open the package of Pull-Ups and slid one over her feet and up her legs. Isabelle’s hands shot up to her face to hide her humiliation, but the childish gesture only served to make her seem more helpless and infantile.

With little effort, Daniel hoisted Isabelle up and pulled the glorified diaper snug into place. She had to admit; it wasn’t so bad. The padding was soft against her princess parts, and the way the garment hugged her hips made her feel swaddled and protected. She was safe. Safe in her Pull-Ups and safe under Daniel’s thumb, right where she belonged. She needed it. She yearned for it.

Daniel wrapped her in his arms once more and laid her head on his chest. He rocked her gently, humming a soft little tune to soothe her. Isabelle closed her eyes and let herself relax, finally. For the first time in longer than she cared to remember, she was at peace. All her worries and concerns had drifted away, and despite her sore bottom and weakened pride, she could not help but smile.

“There’s my girl,” Daniel said. He aimed his own soft smile down at her, and as she looked into his eyes, she did not find disdain or malice there. Instead, she found only wordless comfort and reassurance. “I think someone was extra fussy today and needed an attitude adjustment.” She blushed even more furiously at that.

“D-Daniel…” Isabelle’s meek voice chirped out like a baby bird making its first call.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m s-sorry… for what I said… and the way I said it.”

“I know you are, sweetie. I know you didn’t mean it. You were stressed, and you lashed out. Little girls do that from time to time.”

“N-no but… I’m serious. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Hush, little one. I know you’re sorry, and I know you’re being sincere. I’m telling you it’s alright, that you don’t have to apologize. You don’t have to do or be anything right now. You can just sit here in my arms, and you can just be my little girl, if that’s what you want.” He gave her the kindest smile anyone had ever given her, and in that moment, the last of her reservations gave way. “That is what you want, isn’t it, baby?” All she could do was nod.

That night, she drifted off to sleep in her boyfriend’s arms. Come the next day, she wouldn’t think of him as her boyfriend at all anymore. Instead, she would see him as her Daddy. And by the time she woke the next morning, she would find herself filled with a sense of undeniable bliss, and a new sensation altogether. One of thickness and absorbency between her legs. One that would go on to define the rest of her life to come, and the way her Daddy would look at her as his good little bedwetter.

THE END _

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[teapartyprincess4two]

I’m begging you PLS make AT LEAST a part 2 for sturniolos older sister, I genuinely am so obsessed I’ve read it at least 5 times today. I need a series but- I’m a needy person so… PLS

Big Sister Pt. 2- Sturniolo Triplets

pairing: bigsister!reader x littlebrother!triplets

classification: fluff, sibling banter

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, VERY LONG

inspiration: request^^

summary: After visiting the triplets in L.A, the reader returns back home and works with her brothers to plan another get together. This time the triplets visit her, taking a trip down to the Lone Star State.

Big Sister PT.1, PT2, PT.3

—

“No, May doesn’t work for me. I’m still working in May, I won’t be on vacation until June,” you mumbled, scrolling relentlessly on your laptop in search of flights from L.A to Texas. The search seemed endless because you and your brothers couldn’t seem to coordinate schedules, all of you either being too busy with work or tied down to previous commitments. “Okay. So then we’ll go down in June,” Chris’s voice rang through the phone, stating it like it was an obvious solution.

Nick groaned at this statement, immediately thinking of how hot it would be in Texas during the summer, “it’s going to be so hot though!” He loved you, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to deal with the Texas heat for two entire weeks. Once Matt had heard Nick’s comment he interjected, “Stop being a baby, Nick. We’re going down in June.” You were only half listening to them, still scrolling away on your laptop trying to find 3 two-way tickets that wouldn’t completely drain your bank account.

In all honesty, you were surprised they’d even agreed to visit you. Usually it was you and Justin making the trip to L.A to visit them because they were always so busy. When you mentioned it to your husband Jack, he was equally as surprised but also extremely excited because he was never able to take enough time off work to accompany you on your trips to L.A.

“Fine. Y/n, we’re going down in June,” Nick said, defeat evident in his voice. He supposed he was just going to have to put up with the Texas heat because he could not find it in himself to argue with Matt or Chris right now. They awaited your response, but you were so immersed in the screen in front of you that you hadn’t heard a single thing they had said. ‘What the fuck are these prices?’ you thought, biting the inside of your cheek in determination to find the best tickets.

“Y/n! Are you still there?!” Chris shouted into the phone, the sound blaring loudly through your speaker. The sudden noise caught you off guard and caused you to jump in surprise, breaking you from your concentration. “What the hell are y’all blabbering about?!” You shouted back into the phone attempting to give them a taste of their own medicine.

Ever since you all were little, your brothers would always jump at the opportunity to tease and bully you. Sometimes it was funny, other times it was just annoying. Right now it was annoying.

“Y/n would be the type to say y’all,” Chris laughed, ignoring your question completely, opting to bully you instead. Even though they couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes at his comment, preparing yourself for the onslaught of bullying that you were about to receive. Before you could even think of a snarky remark Matt joined in on the bullying as well.

“My name is y/n and I live in Texas y’all,” he put on a goofy country accent as he said this causing both Chris and Nick to fall into another fit of laughter. You could only imagine what stupid facial expression he was pulling on the other side of the phone.

“Shut up you fucking doofus,” you grumbled, only half mad because you were happy you finally found tickets at a reasonable price. Without a second thought you purchased the tickets, doing a quick victory dance. “Shut up you fucking doofus,” Matt mimicked you, still imitating his corny version of a country accent. If you were being honest, he was pretty good at it, but you’d never admit that.

“Yeah, shut your damn trap before I send you out to the barn, you fucking billy goat” Chris joined in, throwing in random phrases into his sentences as he attempted his own version of a country accent. The three of them were laughing so hard that they had to lean on each other for support as to not fall backwards.

Considering you’d already purchased the tickets, your work here was technically done and you could easily hang the phone up, leaving your goofy brothers to their stupid jokes. If you weren’t so excited, you probably would have done that and texted them the information later, but you decided to forgive their antics just to share the news, “Y’all, I bought the tickets!”

You didn’t catch yourself say it, but your brothers sure did, completely ignoring the exciting news you’d just shared. “Again with the ‘y’all!’ We get it! You live in Texas!” Matt groaned, earning yet another round of laughter from Nick and Chris.

“Oh my God, I actually can’t stand you guys right now,” you rubbed at your temples, wondering if you should just refund the tickets. How were you going to survive two entire weeks of this?

“At least you didn’t say y’all that time,” Nick said. You sighed and hung up.

—

For the next couple of weeks you and your husband, Jack, worked together to prepare your home for visitors. You made sure you had everything you needed in order to be considered a good host. Finally, summer rolled around and you and your husband were on your way to pick your brothers up from the airport. “Stop changing the station, I like that song!” You swatted his hand away from the radio, causing him to chuckle in response. Before he could retaliate, your phone rang.

Quickly you grabbed your purse and dug in it until you found your phone. Nick was calling probably to let you know they had landed safely so you answered it, “Hello?” There was a pause on the other side, but you could hear Chris and Matt faintly bickering in the background. “Shut up, Chris. Just grab our bags so we can go find y/n,” Nick said, sounding far away. He was too busy trying to reel the other two in while grabbing his carryon to hold the phone to his face.

“Hello?!” You repeated louder in hopes that he’d hear you this time. Finally he placed the phone to his ear, using his shoulder to hold it in place as he grabbed his belongings in both hands. Although the flight was only 3 hours long, he still packed an unnecessary amount of things including a blanket and a pillow. “Hi, sorry. Chris and Matt are being stupid,” he finally responded as he slung his carryon over his shoulder and stuffed his pillow under the arm that wasn’t propping his phone against his ear.

“Did y’all land?” You asked while looking over at your husband as he struggled to find where to go, becoming lost in the maze that was the airport. He was going towards the East exit, but from your countless trips back and forth from California to Texas you knew he was meant to be going towards the South exit. Quickly you snapped your fingers in Jack’s face to grab his attention before pointing in the direction he was meant to be driving. Without a hitch, he shifted the steering wheel and went in the direction you were pointing.

“I wouldn’t be calling you if we hadn’t,” Nicks voice was laced with sarcasm as he scurried behind his brothers to make his way out of the packed airplane. You hummed in response, mostly just relieved that they had landed safely, “well I’m asking cause we’re here already.” There was a lot of background noise coming through your phone speaker, mostly the voices of people you couldn’t identify. “Tell her we’re grabbing our bags,” you heard Matt say faintly in the background, probably wanting to cut your conversation with Nick short so that Nick could pay attention to where he was walking and what he was doing.

“Y/n, Matt says to tell you we’re getting our-” Nick begins to say, but is quickly cut off by Chris shouting through the speaker, “WE’RE GETTING OUR BAGS Y/N!” You grimaced and held the phone away from your ear to avoid busting your eardrums. Jack chuckles at this, putting the car in park outside the South exit before chiming in on the conversation, “we’re waiting for you guys outside the South Gate.”

“Was that Jack?” Nick asks as he, Chris and Matt watch the conveyor belt of luggages intently in order to spot theirs. You put the phone on speaker and place it on the middle console of the car, wanting to allow your husband to join in on the conversation, “Yeah buddy it’s me.” Jack had always been like an older brother to the triplets even before you two started dating, especially because he was such good friends with Justin.

Finally the boys find their luggages, working as a team to grab them all before they wiz away. “Cool! I thought y/n was gonna come alone and we’d meet you back at your house,” Nick sounded slightly out of breath as he said this because he was trying to juggle the phone, his pillow, his carryon and now his luggage. “Why would I do that when I can quite literally be a passenger princess,” you shot your husband a knowing look which received an eye roll and a dramatic scoff in return.

“Can you believe this girl, Nick? She forces me to drive her everywhere,” Jack decided to play around with the joke, wanting to embarrass you slightly. It was true though, you were always asking him to accompany you places just so you’d have an excuse to sit in the passenger seat. “As much as I’m loving this conversation, I’m gonna hang up now,” Nick replied, the multitude of items in his hands becoming too much to carry as the three of them made their way towards the South exit.

“What? No! Nick don’t hang up, what if we can’t find you guys!” You grabbed ahold of the phone again, taking it off speaker and placing it on your ear. You shifted your body to face towards the window, peering outside to try and getting a better look inside the airport. Your brothers weren’t too far away, already having made their way outside, but they hadn’t spotted your car yet. Slowly, they came into view and you watched as they trudged in the opposite direction of your vehicle.

“Oh never mind, I see you guys,” a laugh escaped your lips as you said this. Hurriedly, you undid your seatbelt and unlocked your door before hopping out of the car. “What? Where? I don’t see your car,” Nick was now looking left to right, his eyes scanning his surroundings for you and your car. At the mention of this, Chris and Matt did the same thing. “The other way, dumbass,” you replied, hanging up the phone and shoving it in your back pocket so you could wave your hands in the air.

Jack was standing next to you at this point, also waving his hands in the air in an attempt to grab your brothers’ attention. “GUYS!” You shouted, watching as they looked around in confusion still unable to spot you. Mentally you face palmed at their stupidity before shouting their names. This is what finally caught their attention, pulling their gaze in your direction. A smile grew on your face as excitement bubbled up inside you.

Their pace quickened as they tried to get to you faster without dropping any of their things. “I’m so excited!!” You whisper shouted, doing a small dance before beginning to walk towards your brothers. They were holding a lot of things and it looked like they could use some help. Your husband followed suit behind you, making sure to lock the car. He was equally as excited as you, probably even more excited because he hadn’t seen the triplets in so long.

When you finally reached them, you immediately pulled Nick in for a hug. Chris and Matt, on the other hand, went in to dab Jack up. “It’s so hot, I’m sweating already,” Nick chuckled, pulling you into him. “It’s warm,” you agreed, pulling away slightly to get a good look at his face. He looked so much older from the last time you’d seen him, his face adorned with stubble. You also noted that he had dyed his hair, his blonde locks contrasting Chris and Matt’s black hair.

You pulled away from Nick so he could greet Jack and made your way over to Chris and Matt. Nick and Jack shared a side hug, Nick making the same comment about the weather. Before you could say or do anything, Chris was pulling you in for a hug. He held you tightly, rocking you two back and forth before letting go so you could hug Matt. Matt engulfed you in his arms just as quickly as Chris had, rubbing your back before saying, “where’s your car?”

You ignored his question, wanting to get a good look at the three of them before walking over to your car, “Let me get a good look at you guys first.” They were slightly confused at the sentiment, not understanding that they looked older and older every time you saw them. As an older sister, it was your responsibility to absorb these moments like they’d never happen again. Although they were confused, they huddled together and allowed you to examine their appearance.

Your heart swelled as you took a look at them, they looked so grown up. Each of them had stubble, Matt’s being more outgrown than Chris and Nick’s. You also noticed Nick and Matt’s arms were littered with more tattoos than last time. “You guys look so grown up right now,” you commented, a small smile growing on your face. They rolled their eyes at this, you were always so dramatic and sentimental. “What! Let me love you guys!” You exclaimed when you caught sight of their eye rolls.

“Love me by carrying my bag, kid,” Chris said, shoving the backpack he’d used as a carryon in your direction. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you snatched his bag and allowed Matt and Nick to hand you something of theirs too. Jack laughed at this, offering to help carry some of their things too.

“Aaaand now I hate you guys again,” you said jokingly, turning in the direction of your car and walking away. They laughed, shaking their heads and following behind you.

—

The ride from the airport back to your house wasn’t too long, but it seemed like forever for the triplets seeing as they had just gotten off a 3 hour flight. In retrospect, 3 hours isn’t long either, but when you paired it with the two hour time difference from L.A to Texas, the time it took them to get to the airport, and the long wait for their flight you realized that they must be tired of sitting around. “You guys hungry?” You asked, shifting to face them in the backseat.

It was 2 in the afternoon now, but because of the time difference, it was 12 in the afternoon in L.A so you figured they’d be hungry. They were all bunched up in the back seat, pillows and blankets squeezed between them. Nick’s head rested against the window, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar buildings that passed by. Matt’s head was down and his eyes were shut, chin resting against his chest with his arms crossed. He must’ve fallen asleep as soon as he got in the car, allowing himself to relax once in the presence of familiar people. Chris, who sat in the middle seat with a pillow on his lap replied, “I could eat.”

You hummed in response, waiting for Nick to reply. “Yeah, I’m getting pretty hungry,” he said, still looking outside. He noticed that the traffic here was nowhere near as bad as it was in L.A, you guys were flying down the highway and if he stared at one building too long it would become a blur. “You think Matt’s hungry?” You asked, not wanting to wake him up.

“Mmm probably, he was to nervous to eat this morning,” Chris replies, leaning forward in his seat so he can get a good look at Matt’s face. Chris grabbed one of the many blankets that were in the backseat, pulling it over Matt and tucking it snuggly against him. “Yeah, he couldn’t sleep last night either,” Nick says, finally averting his gaze from the window to look at Matt. You also look over at Matt, feeling a bit sad that he allowed his nerves to get the best of him.

“Awe, my poor little brother,” you whispered in sincerity. “Poor dude’s slumped,” Jack says, looking back at Matt quickly before looking back at the road. Matt’s eyes shot open, somehow sensing that all eyes were on him. “Oop!” You exclaimed, quickly facing forward again. All of you, with the exception of Matt, were laughing now. “What’s so funny?” His voice was groggy, a small yawn following his question.

“Nothing Matty, go back to sleep,” Chris replied, throwing a corny nickname in the mix for good measure as he readjusted the blanket. You all were still laughing, leaving Matt confused, but he decided not to question any further and shut his eyes again.

“Y’all want Whataburger?” Jack asks, he doesn’t wait for their answer as he rounds a corner and enters the parking lot of said restaurant. “Do we have a choice?” Nick asks, not knowing much about the restaurant.

“You do not,” you stated, knowing that this had become your husbands favorite restaurant since moving to Texas. “It was a rhetorical question,” Jack says, putting the car in park and smiling at Nick through the rear view mirror. “This place looks like it just got sentenced to 40 years in prison,” Nick comments, referring to the orange and white stripes on the roof of the building that resembled a prison jumpsuit.

“Team orange, for real,” Chris jokes, earning a laugh from the rest of you.

—

It’s 4 in the afternoon when you all finally arrive to your house, lugging all the bags inside and leaving some of them in the living room to be dealt with tomorrow. The triplets had never been to your house before so when they walked in they looked around, taking in all the little details. “Welcome to our humble abode,” you said in a dramatic English accent before beginning a house tour. It was typical for you all to put on funny accents to exaggerate the importance of a situation or to make the others laugh. They laugh at this, following behind you as you walk them through your house still speaking in your English accent. Your house wasn’t too big considering the only people who lived in it were you and Jack, so the house tour was over quickly.

“Follow me this way gentleman, let me show you where you’ll be staying,” Jack said doing the same accent you had been doing, motioning for your brothers to follow him. You laughed at this gesture, loving the fact that he played along. “Thank you kind sir,” Matt replied attempting to do the same accent, but accidentally doing his infamous country accent instead. “Well I’ll be damned, this Texas heat is getting to me,” he continued, still putting on the country accent as he played into his failed attempt at doing an English accent.

You all laugh at this, the boys following Jack to the room you’d prepared for them. In it was a queen sized bed, a blow up mattress, a television, and a closet big enough for all of them to put their things away. There was also a restroom attached to it, stocked entirely with clean towels, toilet paper, toothpaste, and any thing else they might need during their stay. The large window in the room brings in a good amount of natural light, a perfect view of the house’s backyard visible.

The triplets walk inside, throwing some of their things on the bed. Chris jumps onto the bed, sprawling his limbs out so he looks like a star. “We’ll let you guys get situated. We’ll be in the living room, okay?” you say with a chuckle, ushering Jack out of the room. “Okay, yeah. We’ll be done in a bit,” Chris replies, rolling over onto his stomach so he can look out the window into the backyard.

“Yeah, I just have to shower and I’ll be down,” Nick agrees, placing his suitcase on the floor and opening it so he can dig through his clothes for the perfect outfit. Matt agrees as well, joining Chris on the bed so he can gauge whether he wants to sleep there or on the inflatable. “Alright, I stocked the restroom with everything you guys might need. Use it all,” you assured, ready to close the door and to join your husband in the living room.

“Oooh I’m gonna make potions!” Chris says giddily as he rubs his hands together maliciously, causing you to roll your eyes and shut the door.

—

The next couple of days were completely adventure filled as you and Jack took your brothers to as many places you could think of. The five of you had also put together a list of locations you wanted to visit and so far you’d checked off quite a few. Considering you lived in a small town between many big cities, it was easy to compile a list of ideas. For example, on the first day you guys had gone to Six Flags, the Alamo, and had taken a river boat ride in San Antonio. The five of you must’ve gone on every ride at Six Flags at least twice.

On the second day, you visited The Galleria Mall and Color Factory in Houston, even taking a quick trip to Chinatown before heading back home. You guys took so many pictures on this day, making sure to pose as many times as possible in every room inside the Color Factory.

On the third and fourth day you guys decided to stay home, watching movies and getting takeout. You guys watched scary movies and took turns taking jabs at the characters on the screen, commenting on their poor decision making skills and how you’d easily survive every situation presented on screen. You and Nick had even baked cookies that day, not allowing Chris, Matt or Jack to help because they were sure to mess up the recipe.

Since they were only going to be here for a couple more days you wanted to make the most of it. So on the fifth day you guys were ready for yet another adventure. This time, you guys were heading back into San Antonio to go to the rodeo, an experience that your brothers had never had before. Jack unfortunately couldn’t join you guys today because he couldn’t get the day off which bummed you slightly, but you knew you’d have a good day regardless.

“Make sure you pack the water bottles,” you shouted towards your brothers, watching as they packed the trunk of your car with all the things you could possibly need today. “Oh! And the sunscreen, it’s going to get hot!” You called again, going through your mental checklist so you wouldn’t forget anything important. “It’s already hot!” Nick calls back in a sing-song tone as he shuts the trunk of your car.

All three of your brothers were super excited to go to the rodeo, but they were not excited for the blistering heat. You guys learned your lesson on the first day when you guys had gone to Six Flags and came back home extremely red and sunburnt. You locked your front door, your brothers piling into the car. Chris sat in the passenger seat with Matt in the seat behind him and Nick in the seat behind the drivers seat.

You ran over to the drivers side, opening the car door and jumping into the seat. Chris had already taken the aux cord, connecting it to his phone before scrolling through his endless playlist for the perfect song. “You guys ready?” You asked, adjusting your seat and fixing your mirrors before buckling yourself. A string of agreements came from your brothers, so you put the car in reverse and began your journey.

The drive into San Antonio wasn’t long, but for whatever reason Chris decided his current soda wasn’t up to his liking so he demanded you stopped at a gas station so he could pick something new. As annoying as it was, you agreed because Nick and Matt also wanted to stop and get something. “Fine, find something on Google Maps,” you said, not looking away from the road.

Chris grabbed his phone from the center console, where he had placed it so he could skip and search for songs as he pleased, before opening Google Maps and searching for the nearest gas station. “It says the nearest one is called busseys? I don’t know, I can’t fucking read that shit,” he said, clicking on it and allowing the phone to guide you towards the location. You listened intently for the directions, wanting to know what exit you’d have to take to get here. Nick grabbed ahold of Chris’s phone and read the name of the gas station, “Buc-ee’s?! You fucking dumbass?!”

Matt laughed at this, scooting forward in his seat to look over at the phone. He read the name, laughing at how Chris had completely butchered the pronunciation of the name. “Kid really said busseys,” Matt laughed again, sitting back in his seat. The three of them were laughing, you were giggling too but you were mostly trying to listen to the directions. “Chris! What exit is it?!” You used your right hand to try and grab the phone, but Nick was still holding it.

“Nick has the phone, how am I supposed to know!” He exclaimed, pointing at Nick like he was the culprit of a terrible crime. “Calm down, it’s the one after this one,” Nick replied as he dramatically placed the phone back on the center console. “Thank you,” you said sarcastically, shooting Nick a playful glance through the rear view to which he rolled his eyes.

When you finally pulled into the parking lot, Chris jumped up dramatically at the sight of the building. He inched closer to the dashboard to get a better look. It was the biggest gas station he had ever seen, complete with a mascot and everything! As he examined the building closer, he caught sight of a statue in the front of entrance. He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher what the statue was. When he finally realized what it was, his eyes opened in shock, “IS THAT A FUCKING BEAVER?!?”

“WHAT?! WHERE?!?” Nick shouted, moving closer to Matt for protection because he thought there was an actual beaver outside. Matt stretched his neck, trying to see over Chris’s seat to see what he was looking at. His eyes grew wide too, seeing the giant statue in front of the building. “Holy fuck that thing is huge!” He exclaimed, pushing himself up from his seat to get a better view. When he said this, Nick only became more flustered, “WHERE IS IT?!? DON’T SAY THAT!” He shouted again, causing you all to laugh.

“Nick it’s just a statue,” you said through laughter, attempting to reassure him. “Oh,” he relaxed immediately when you said this, finally looking over Chris’s seat and seeing the giant beaver statue. “He’s kinda cute,” Nick admitted, feeling silly for reacting so dramatically.

“Wait…” Chris said as he looked around suspiciously as if he was about to reveal something no one was supposed to know, “is that beaver… Bussey?” His voice came out in a whisper almost like he had just discovered a conspiracy. You erupted in a fit of laughter again, getting out of the car to make your way inside.

“Ha. Bussey,” Matt laughed to himself, unbuckling his seat and getting out of the car to walk into the gas station.

—

The stop at Buc-ee’s had completely sidetracked you guys and you all almost forgot about the rodeo entirely. It took you guys an abnormally long time to look through everything the store had to offer. There were food items you’d never seen before, a mini restaurant, a bakery, a section with house supplies, and even a gift shop filled to the brim with specialized Buc-ee’s merch. Chris was mesmerized by the drink station, wanting to try every single flavor. He had successfully talked you all into each getting a different flavor so he could try as many as possible.

When you finally checked out, you were each walking out with a bag or two of merch and snacks. There was so much to choose from including mugs, keychains, sweatshirts, t-shirts, and plushies all of it resembling or including the gas station’s mascot.

“Shout out to Buc-ee, man. This soda is so good,” Chris commented once you guys were back in the car, taking a long sip from his drink. “Wait let me try,” Matt said, trading his drink with Chris so they could try each others drinks. Matt took a sip of Chris’s drink, eyes widening once the flavor settled in his mouth. The soda was actually really good. “Stop, it can’t be that good,” Nick said, rolling his eyes at Matt’s theatrics. “Try it,” Matt replied, holding the drink out for Nick to take.

Nick takes a sip, eyes also widening once he realized how good it was. You watched them intently, now you wanted to taste it to see the hype. “This tastes like the time Matt threw the fork at the old lady!” Nick exclaims, taking another sip to make sure he was getting it right. “Yes! Yes!” Chris agrees, recalling the memory fondly.

“Let y/n try it!” Matt says, pulling the drink away from Nick mid sip, causing it to dribble down his chin a little. “Woah Matt, calm down tough guy,” Chris says, watching as Nick wipes the soda from his chin, mouth still full of soda. Nick tries hard to hold in his laughter so that he doesn’t spit the drink out in your car, the three of you looking at him fully expecting there to be a mess in the backseat in mere seconds. He calms himself down, breathing in deeply before swallowing.

Once the coast is clear and he’s sure that Nick isn’t going to spit his drink out, Matt hands you the cup. You take it and immediately take a sip, having the same reaction as your brothers. “It’s good, right!” Chris says, eagerly taking the drink back and taking another sip.

“That does taste like the time Matt threw the fork at the old lady!” you exclaim in excitement causing Matt to shake his head as he reminisces on the memory.

—

Finally you guys arrive at the rodeo, making sure to go up to every booth and ride every single ride. You guys even waited in the long lines to try the crazy food items being advertised like the fried oreos and boiled peanuts. The four of you walked around the carnival portion of the rodeo for what seemed like forever before deciding to enter the area where they had all the livestock.

“It stinks in here,” you commented as you guys walked into the building where the animals were in. You plugged your nose, leading the way through the building. “Ew it does,” Nick agreed, copying your actions and plugging his nose. Chris and Matt were either unphased by the smell or they didn’t want to be rude because they didn’t say anything.

There were so many different animals so you guys walked around the building to look at them all. After a while, you and Nick had become accustomed to the smell and took your time admiring the animals. The ducks were your personal favorite, but the cows were a close second.

“Look! They have horses over there!” Matt said, this was the most excited you’d seen him since you’d arrived here. He rushed his way over to where the horses were, the rest of you following behind him. You guys pushed through the sea of people, trying to keep up with Matt. “Matt, wait up!” Chris shouted, excusing himself as he pushed past people to try and reach Matt. Before you knew it, you guys had lost sight of him and were looking around trying to spot him in the crowd.

“I think he went this way,” Nick said, leading the way in a completely different direction. You and Chris follow Nick, careful not to leave too much distance between between the three of you as to avoid getting lost. “Nick, you’re going to fast,” you mumble, trying to grab ahold of his hand but fail due to being pushed out of the way by other people trying to make their way through the crowd. You stop dead in your tracks, not wanting to bump into anyone causing Chris to bump into you.

“Sorry,” he says, moving to stand beside you. When you start walking again, you look up to see where Nick went but you can’t find him anymore either. “Great, now we lost Nick,” you groaned, facepalming while Chris tiptoed to see over the crowd. You were too short to see that high up so there was no point in trying, but Chris had spotted Nick’s blonde hair in the distance.

“He’s over there, I see him,” he says confidently, grabbing your shoulders and turning you in the direction he saw Nick. He pushes your shoulders lightly, guiding you in Nick’s general direction. When he felt like you guys were heading the right way, he let go of your shoulders and began walking next to you instead of behind you. “He might have gone this way,” he says, turning right and walking in the direction his gut was leading him.

“Which way?” You asked, looking over to where he was just standing. Another groan escaped your lips, you had just lost Chris too. For a while, you stood in place hoping that one of them would somehow find you, but after about 5 minutes you realized no one was going to find you in this large sea of people. Panic was beginning to build up inside of you, but you took a deep breath and calmed yourself down, determined to find your brothers so you guys could leave.

Your inner monologue was going crazy, thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to your brothers. For all you know, they could’ve all walked out of this building and were somewhere across the whole venue. First you passed the pigs, not finding anyone there. You asked some people if they’d seen any of your brothers, trying to describe what they looked like before realizing they were literally almost identical and that asking people wasn’t going to get you anymore.

Secondly, you passed the chickens, still coming up empty handed. By the time you had circled back to where you started, you were actually beginning to panic. You felt the tears brimming, trying to hold it in so you wouldn’t cry in front of a room full of strangers. Everything was slowly becoming too much, the animals, the people, the noise, even the smell was beginning to bother you again. Before the tears could flow, you heard Nick, “Oh thank God I found you!”

You turned in the direction you heard him, an instant wave of relief washing over your body. “Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, noticing how scared you looked. His hands were on your shoulders, grounding you. Once you saw him, you weren’t as scared, but the built up emotions from before had shaken you. You nodded your head in response, wiping a stray tear.

“Let’s go find Chris and Matt,” he suggested with a small smile. He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him protectively. To your surprise, he was being very gentle with you. Ever since you’d shared your heartfelt story on the podcast, Nick had felt an urge to protect you like you’d always protected him, Chris and Matt.

You two did another lap around the building, making small talk along the way before deciding that Chris and Matt had probably left the building. As you two walked outside, you saw Chris and Matt walking in your direction each with a corndog in hand. They were too immersed in their own conversation to notice you and Nick.

“What the fuck?!” Nick shouted once they were in earshot, only saying it loud enough for them to hear. They perked up at this, looking in the direction of you two with confused looks on their faces. “We walked around that place like 5 fucking times looking for you idiots!” Nick exclaimed again. Matt shrugged, taking a bite from his corndog. “You’re both so annoying,” you grumbled, actually upset.

“We saw you guys, it looked like you were having a good time,” Chris commented before taking a bite of his own corndog, not catching that you were actually mad at them this time. “And we were hungry soooo… we got food,” Matt explains, offering you a bite of his food. You push his hand away in annoyance only causing him to offer Nick a bite. Nick rolled his eyes, but he took Matt up on the offer and took a bite. The corndog was good, but he was still mad.

“Let’s just go home,” you reply, feeling the exhaustion and anger ruin your mood. “Hmm yeah, it’s starting to get dark,” Chris agrees, dipping his corndog in mustard before taking yet another bite. Matt agrees with him, making a comment about how he hates driving at night. How could two people be so oblivious?

You decide to hold your tongue, instead humming and beginning to walk to your car. You’re quiet the entire ride home, not singing along to any of the songs Chris is playing and not engaging in any of the conversations surrounding you. Nick is the only who notices, both Matt and Chris still completely oblivious.

Finally, when you get home you sigh in relief and turn the car off. You unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car and slamming the door in the process. “What’s her problem?” Chris asks, taken aback by how hard you slammed the door. Nick mentally facepalms, how is Chris just now noticing you were upset? “That was dramatic,” Matt chimes in, watching as you disappear into the house without waiting for them to get off the car.

“Are you guys that dumb?” Nick asks, unbuckling himself and gathering the bags that you all had accumulated throughout the day. “What? She slammed the door, not us,” Chris said, also gathering his things from the front seat. Matt was about to interject, but was swiftly interrupted by Nick, “She was looking for us inside that building!” Chris and Matt couldn’t be more confused.

“What building?!” Matt asked, raising his voice to the same level Nick had. “THE ONE WITH THE ANIMALS YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Nick responded, unafraid to get loud. “Okay? We were looking for you guys too?” Chris responds sassily, not quite ready to raise his voice yet. “She was crying, though. I think she got really scared,” Nick’s voice softened a bit, remembering the scared look on your face and the tear that rolled down your cheek.

“Oh,” the other two mumbled, finally realizing that they had kinda ditched you two in there. “Let’s just go inside,” Nick sighs, opening his door and getting out of the car before walking inside the house. Chris and Matt felt bad now, but how were they supposed to know you’d get scared? Older sisters weren’t supposed to get scared. They got off the car and joined Nick inside.

—

The next morning you woke up bright and early, still a little upset from yesterday, but not as upset as you were when you got home. Everyone was up already, you could hear noise coming from the kitchen and the triplets talking with your husband. You got ready for the day before heading downstairs, ready to greet your family in the kitchen. As you neared the final step, you stopped because you wanted to hear what the boys were talking about.

“You guys need to apologize, she was really scared,” Nick said, referring to yesterdays events. Leave it to Nick to try and make amends and keep everyone happy. You were going to walk in the kitchen, but Chris’s voice stopped you, “What if she cries again?”

“She’s going to cry, she always cries,” you hear Jack say, followed by the sound of whisking. ‘I hope he’s making pancakes,’ you thought before realizing that he had just called you a crybaby. He’s your husband and here he is agreeing with your brothers that you cry a lot. “When she comes down, I’ll apologize,” this time it was Matt who spoke, feeling a little nervous, but also sad. You two had never had a falling out before. Growing up you would only ever have big fights with Justin, sometimes having an argument or two with Nick, even a slight disagreement with Chris, but never had you been actually mad at Matt. He felt like he had failed you.

You were done waiting, you took the last step and rounded the corner. “Good morning,” you greeted, offering everyone a small smile, including your husband. You walk over to Jack only to see what he was making, but he thinks you’re going over for a kiss. He leans down, ready to plant his lips on yours, but you turn your head to the side and let it land on your cheek. He’s taken aback by this, but doesn’t say anything. You might’ve let him kiss you, but upon inspection you realized he was making eggs. ‘Gross,’ you thought, before walking over to the fridge for something to drink. You liked eggs, but you were hoping for pancakes.

“Morning,” Chris says awkwardly, coughing right afterwards to try and sound casual. “Morning,” Matt greets, sounding extremely nervous as he watches your every move. “How’d you sleep?” Nick asks, pouring cereal into a bowl. “Mmm pretty good for the most part,” you reply, grabbing the orange juice from inside the fridge before closing it. Nick hums in response, grabbing his bowl of cereal and walking over to the kitchen table.

“How did you guys sleep?” You ask, look between your three brothers. Nick knows you’re really only asking Chris and Matt so he stays quiet, silently eating his cereal as he prepares for the events to unfold. “Um, pretty good?” Chris’s answer is unsure, he’s scared to say the wrong thing. Was he supposed to say he had the worst sleep of his life? Cause if he was it would be a lie. He hated fighting with you, but he wasn’t the type to kiss ass just to earn forgiveness.

You nodded your head, not saying anything before looking at Matt. Matt hates this, he quickly realized you were probably going to scold them after this. “Same, I slept- um- I slept good,” he’s stuttering through his words, so nervous that he could probably shit himself. Nick is still munching away, watching you all intently. Jack, on the other hand, was too busy stirring his eggs to care about a sibling quarrel.

“Hmm, okay,” you respond, slowly nodding your head. “I’m sorry?” Chris finally says, wondering if that’s what you wanted to hear. You smirk a little, looking over expectantly at Matt this time. He realizes what this is and goes from nervous to annoyed. You weren’t even mad anymore, you were just trying to get them to apologize to embarrass them. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your gaze in fear that he’ll go completely red.

“What was that? Sorry I couldn’t hear you,” you pushed, cupping a hand to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he replied again slightly louder than before. “I’m sorry, Nick could you hear him?” You look back at Nick who quickly shakes his head no, chuckling at the entire situation. “Go ahead Matt, we couldn’t hear you,” you had let go of Chris at this point to to get a better look at Matt.

“I’m sorry!” He’s almost shouting at this point, beyond annoyed with you. “Why didn’t you just say that the first time!” You ask innocently, hugging him dramatically. Matt attempts to wiggle out of your grasp making Chris, Nick and Jack laugh as they watch you two struggle like children.

“The eggs are ready!” Jack announces, turning the stove off and picking the pan up in order to serve everyone. “I wish they were pancakes,” you grumble, letting go of Matt to take a better look at the eggs. Matt sighs in relief, hating everything about the previous interaction.

“Yes, chef!” Jack salutes you like a soldier, turning the stove back on immediately. You laugh, finally giving him the kiss he didn’t get earlier.

—

The last week flies by quickly and before you know it you’re back at the airport dropping your brothers off with more things than they arrived with. “I’m going to miss y’all,” you whisper into the group hug, not wanting to let go. The last two weeks had been so fun and now you probably won’t be together again until Thanksgiving or Christmas.

“We can always come back to visit,” Nick suggests, not wanting you to cry. There was always an opportunity to visit, especially on the weeks when their schedules were flexible. “Yeah, don’t be sad. Plus we call all the time,” Chris chimes in, the four of you breaking from your hug. You nod at this comment, knowing it was only half true. The times you were able to call them were slim, the time difference playing a sight role in your ability to coordinate a good time to talk.

“Plus there’s still Christmas,” Matt says, becoming sad at how far away it seems. “Yeah, you guys are right,” you admit. This wasn’t the end of the world, you’d see them again soon. You were mostly sad that you were going to be alone at home now when your husband was at work. Plus, in a month you’d be returning to work. You groaned internally at the thought of returning to work.

“Good afternoon passengers. This is a pre-boarding announcement for flight 76A to Los Angeles, California. All those boarding this flight please make your way towards the gate 3 immediately.” You hear over the intercom. Suddenly it feels more real, they were really leaving.

“That’s us,” Chris says, looking in the direction of the gate before grabbing ahold of his carryon and slinging it over his shoulder. You smile weakly at them, nodding your head. Of course you know they have to leave, you understand that they have a life of their own. “Alright, I guess we gotta go,” Nick says, offering you one last hug goodbye. “I love you guys, be safe. Call me when you get home,” you say as you hug him.

“So bossy,” Matt chuckles, offering you a hug of his own. You laugh a little as you hug him, too sad to argue with him over this comment. “This is the final boarding call for passengers on flight 76A to Los Angeles, California. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately.” The boys grab their things in a rush when they hear this.

“Okay guys, we gotta to go,” Chris says, ushering his brothers towards gate 3 as quickly as possible. Chris hated goodbyes, he didn’t see the point in all the sappy hugs and kisses. It’s not like you were never going to see each other again. You know this, so you don’t press him for a hug. “Yes! Go!” You agree, waving them in the direction of their boarding gate. They hurriedly walk away with all their things in their hands, looking back at you and waving. You were a little sad you didn’t get to hug Chris goodbye, but you’d survive. You watch as they rush to make it to their gate on time.

Just as you’re about turn to leave you see Chris stop and you swear you hear him groan. He drops his things and turns back to you. Before you know it he’s running back to you and engulfing you in a hug. The guilt was eating at him the closer he got to the gate, how was he going to leave without hugging his only sister goodbye? “I should’ve just hugged you the first time,” he says, resting his chin on the top of your head. You smile, wrapping your arms around your brother and rubbing his back. Who knew Chris could be such a sap?

“CHRIS!” Nick yells from the gate as he tries to tell the flight attendant to wait for him. “Okay, I gotta go now,” he lets go of you and runs towards where Nick is, grabbing his things in the process. “I’m going!” He yells, almost tripping from how quickly he’s running. They disappear into the gate, the doors closing behind them.

You were going to miss them, but you were so glad you had the chance to spend time with them.

PT.3

—

A/n: you ask and you shall receive! I wrote a long story for you because I don’t really know if I want to turn this into a series, but I do want to provide you with enough content to hold you over haha. Hope you enjoy!!!! Also, for those just reading this story for the first time, go read part one for a better understanding of the little details.

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

[csuitebitches]

2024 Planning

I started planning for 2024 today. I’ve learned a lot this year, made mistakes, had some successes and now it’s time to take all my learnings, good or bad, and go to the next level.

I prefer starting next year’s routine from 2023’s November and December so that by the time January rolls around, I’m settled into the routine. If there’s any revisions necessary, I can do them without starting my new year on the wrong foot.

I maintain my goals on mostly short and medium term basis. This includes daily, weekly and quarterly planning (I don’t do monthly because it doesn’t work for me).

This may seem complicated (actually, it looks more complicated than it is but it’s just what helps me) but let me show you how exactly I do things.

I keep two diaries. One for daily and weekly and one for quarterly. I have a habit tracker on my phone for my daily non-Negotiables (exercise, meditation, reading and language).

The quarterly diary is my big big diary. Every quarter, it lists out all the big plans, what i want to do and who i want to be. It’s all the messy thoughts I have, all my dreams, my weaknesses, my strengths, etc etc. The only “practical” part of the diary is that there is one general plan made at the end of my mad scribbling. It has the general idea, feedback I’ve received from other people and compilation of all the advice I’ve gotten from my mentors.

2. The daily - weekly diary breaks the plan into manageable bits. I write out the week’s plan (who do i need to meet, who do i need to follow up with, any major presentation coming up, any assignment, what am i reading this week) and write a one sentence daily update on it.

I can’t use a habit tracker for this because i’m not tracking meditation or exercise on here. I’m tracking my career goals, my ambitious goals, into smaller goals. A habit tracker wouldnt cut it because I would have to elaborate more on certain things.

For example:

“20-27th Nov: Weekly list

budget presentation on Monday

1 event to attend on Tuesday. Topic: XYZ

Reading: the inheritors

reach out to mentor, schedule a meeting

7 language essays and 7 videos

Monday, 20th Nov.

work presentation: complete.

Feedback received: i need to work on XYZ.

points they raised that didnt cross my mind: XYZ

follow ups required and if yes, with who: XYZ

reading: complete. Interesting point they brought up: XYZ

essay for the day: complete.

Video complete:

Tuesday, 21st Nov

mentor meeting scheduled

event went well. Met: A, B, C who work in XYZ companies. Follow up with them next week for coffee/ drinks.

essay: complete

video: complete”

Having two diaries helps me because i can find my bigger goals without having to go through the daily entry mess. I like having the two separate.

Nov ‘23 + Dec ‘23 + Q1 2024’s goals include:

Social (meeting new people, maintaining networks)

Intellectual (biographies, documentaries, industry reports)

Personal (soft skills, language studies)

Work (presentations, courses, conferences)

A major change I’ve making this year is actively working on every single weakness I have that I know is a potential strength. I’m ignoring weaknesses that I know are 100% weaknesses like coding because there’s just no way I can sit in front of a computer and learn all that, it’s absolutely not my cup of tea and does not make me happy.

I made a list of every single weakness i have and I’m embarrassed about and ashamed of. 2024 is the year of NO shame. I’m not letting my intrusive thoughts win.

Next to each weakness I wrote out a potential solution.

Ex: not picking up the language i’m studying as fast as i want to -> write 1 short essay and a 1-2 minute video of me talking about anything in that language every single day

I’m not allowing any unnecessary negative self doubt or self talk happen. Constructive criticism is one thing, being a bitch to yourself is another. I plan to learn a lot next year.

I’ve created a manageable exposure therapy plan for myself - I aim to meet 3 new people every month and follow up with 5 new connections every month, whether it’s over chat or irl.

I’ve made a list of business biographies I’m going to read. This year I reached my reading target earlier than anticipated which I’m very happy about. Next year I’m focusing on books that are solely about business, technology and psychology.

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ CRAWL ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise. Crawling for the Devil is the least of your problems.

PAIRING: devil!yjh x reader (afab)

GENRE: fantasy | smut, pwp

TAGS: featuring: sub!ksy, artist!xmh, housemate!jww | auditory voyeurism, pegging (m receiving), fingering, hickies, face sitting, oral + face fucking (m receiving), tail play, degradation, crawling, spanking, swallowing, toys, manhandling, pnv

WC: 5.2k

A/N: hello! currently working on my thesis so writing this was a way to blow off steam. I also wasn't going to write another devil!jeonghan fic so thank you to @whenyourenothere for convincing me! this can be read as a standalone fic or a part two of red horn. special s/o to @junkissed for helping me figure out the tags for this fic bc there's a lot <33 - nu ♡ | tagging: @jjeongddol

himbocoups's masterlist

It is a rusty metallic foldable chair that you sit on that squeaks and creaks even with the slightest movement. You try to readjust your posture — definitely not sure if you should sit up straight with your back against the dusty chair or with your hands folded neatly on the edge of the devil’s table in front of you. In fact, you’re not sure whether or not you are supposed to touch the devil’s office desk, so you choose to lead with the prior option. And the metal chair reacts, drawing out a long and uncomfortable creeeeak as you shift your weight backward. 

Maybe you were just lucky last time, led by the Devil to believe that maybe you were worthy of being somebody special in this vast world. In this underworld where the universe’s menagerie of creatures visit with last hopes of finding a solution, you are finally coming to a conclusion that you’re only but a speck of dust in a world that knows no bounds. 

The small office room feels humid and stuffy; its previously supposedly beige wallpapers are now a darker shade of brown that peels in large patches to reveal dirty and white painted-over bricks. Splotches of mold line the edges of the patches, and you find yourself wishing that mold spores aren’t a thing that exists in Hell. But it’s Hell, and anybody who dealt with mold before knows that the process of treating mold is basically hell. The navy colored carpet looks old and worn out. Several flat and black pieces of gum stick to it, already dried and surprisingly shiny in color. 

On the desk and pushed to the corner is an old and vintage PC, the kind with the square monitors and the back that protrudes outwards. You can feel the heat from the computer console blow against your skin and leave a faint burnt metallic scent in its wake. Not sure what to do or if you’re supposed to do anything, you sit in silence as the devil behind the computer screen slowly types and moves his mouse on top of his mousepad to fill out the information he has in the giant manilla folder spread out in front of him. 

You retract your lips inwards and bite the gummy and smooth underside of your lips while you stare at the stack of business cards pointed toward you. Craig. His name is Craig with no last name. Demon. So you’re wrong. He’s neither a devil nor is he the Devil with a capital “D” whom you were previously introduced to. He’s just office worker Craig, the demon you were assigned today. 

“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He asks you while lifting his mouse from the mousepad before setting it back down to readjust the roller ball underneath. Not once does he turn to look at you or make eye contact with you.

“A little,” you reply feeling awkward and a bit burdened by the question for almost no reason at all. 

He nods his head while tracing his long and crooked finger against a line on the stack of papers in front of him before typing in the data in his computer. He sniffs and snorts his phlegm while clearing his throat. It was just small talk; there is no way an office worker in Hell would care about your wellbeing. You find yourself wondering if central cooling is a thing in Hell while trying to peek at the contents of your surprisingly large folder with no avail.

This room, this office worker, this situation…none of this is the same as the beautiful and luxurious office space you imagined stepping in for the second time. Long gone is the plush gray Persian rug and the mahogany desk that belongs to the owner himself. And your large file that is spread out before the demon you’re assigned, you cannot help but think about the event or even events that could have possibly added to the flimsy pieces of paper the Devil flipped through when he first met you. And the thought of Craig reading your file only causes your face to heat up in embarrassment. 

“Um.” You force yourself to break the awkward silence. “May I use the restroom before we start? You still haven’t asked me what I’m here for, and I think I accidentally came under the assumption that I would be assigned to the same person. I’ll be quick in case you need me immediately.” 

“Down the hall,” the demon mumbles while hunching his back to allow himself to squint closely at the screen in front of him. 

Picking yourself up from your seat, you basically fling yourself out of the office while thinking about the fresh air that awaits you in the hallway. No thoughts about the demon nor suspicions regarding the fact that the demon didn’t really point you towards a particular route to the restroom floated in your mind. Coming here was a mistake, and you are willing to face any repercussions for walking out of a meeting with a demon if it means having to save yourself from the embarrassment of having that demon read your file regarding your previous request with the Devil. 

However, what awaits you on the other side of the door isn’t the hallway from which you entered the office you were in. Instead, you find yourself in an oddly familiar bedroom. Light navy blue floor-length curtains cover the window with their original pleats from when it was first purchased about a year ago still intact. Pushed against the window is the full-sized bed with the orange-stained wooden headboard and the mess of frost blue blankets haphazardly strewn on the mattress. The soft and rotund tiger plush lays threateningly close to the edge of the bed, able to be toppled over even with the slightest movement on the mattress. 

The owner of this bedroom is in the middle of it all. Kwon Soonyoung kneels on his bed with his legs spread and his ass up. He already looks so fucked out. His left cheek is pressed against his mattress while he looks back at you with his hands tied behind his back. The position he’s in doesn’t seem comfortable at all, but his expressions, demeanor, and soft whimpers coming out of his mouth digress. 

“Please,” he practically begs you from his pitiful position. You can see how his lean thighs tremble while he struggles against his restraints. He wails with such desperation, “I want it. I want it so badly,” so much that it almost sounds as if he is going to cry from your lack of action. 

You don’t realize it until now, but an object manifests itself in your hands. A thick and ribbed silicone dildo, one that you’re too familiar with, is being stroked by you unconsciously. You feel the girth of it and how the lube it’s coated with prepares the toy for insertion. 

Then comes the teasing. You find the words naturally flowing out of your mouth: “Conciseness in your language, Soonie. What is it that you want?”

But the thing is, you know what comes next. You know what his response is as you slowly make your way over to him.

“Peg me. I’m ready,” he gasps while a tiny translucent pearl gathers at the tip of his dangling cock. “Blow my back out.”

You already know exactly how many times you will yourself to slap his ass to prep him before his legs give in. You already know how lewdly he would gasp as you insert the tip of the toy, how he would bury his face in his blankets as he moans out loud. You find yourself repeating actions as if being controlled by a machine, yet you don’t hate it. You’re magically stuck in a limbo between reality and déjà vu, presently recreating the past. 

You feel his walls sucking in the toy, taking it in so well. Like a special switch in an escape room, once you grab onto his aching cock to stroke him while you peg him, the scene immediately switches.

Naked and in the middle of a studio apartment that reeks of paint fumes and essential oils, you look at yourself through the standing mirror in front of you. Despite the fan blowing in the background and the apartment windows propped open, you don’t feel cold at all. Instead, your skin pricks with heat as the sensation of arousal gathers itself at your core and spreads to the tips of your fingers. Beneath you is a mop of platinum blonde hair of the artist who sits by your feet. 

Xu Minghao gently grabs you by the waist so that he can angle you so that you can get a better view of his artwork on your body. You remember that with him, you always felt safe and appreciated. He traces his slender finger along the length of your thigh, bringing it up to your ass. He makes you feel valuable through your soreness, the entirety of your right ass cheek covered in his carefully placed hickies. Your pussy throbs with eagerness, waiting to be filled before all of the juices run dry. 

“My work of art,” he mumbles before he brings his lips to your ass cheek. In the open space where the bruises connect, he bites it with his teeth and swirls the flesh in between his teeth with his tongue. His left hand makes its way to your opening, thumbing the smooth nub that immediately makes your knees buckle. So he positions himself behind you, strongly wrapping his long right arm around your legs to keep you steady as he nips and sucks while he takes your time to circle your clit before he finally slips his finger in your core as if the action is like second nature to him. 

Pleasure builds in your soul and makes your body scream with pleasure as Minghao meticulously massages your inner walls, stroking and tapping your spongy insides as you writhe in his arm. He adds another finger, filling you up and building your high, scissoring you while you moan his name as your liquid drips down his fingers and collects in his palm. 

“Done,” he breathes as he shifts his body so that he sits between your open legs. You can feel how his warm breath hits your skin as he speaks with his lips nearly on your cunt, “Flower on your ass. Sweet and puffy rose sitting on my face.”

Before you can re-experience all of what it felt like to sit on Minghao’s face like a chair, you find yourself in another room. This time, you’re in your own place in the room next to yours. From the placement of the desk to how the bed is pushed against the corner of the room, flush against the wall, the layout of this room directly mirrors your own. There are a lot more notecard art prints taped to the wall than you last remembered. The LED lights built into his mechanical keyboard softly pulses as it switches colors. And there is the all too familiar smell of his laundry detergent and dryer sheets that fills his room — he had just unloaded his laundry from the dryer, but didn’t have time to fold his clothes as they still sit in the laundry basket placed in front of his closet. 

You’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here at all. It’s not often that you find yourself in Jeon Wonwoo’s bedroom, but when you do, you’re usually near the threshold of his door. And to be sitting on his plush gray sheets, you think it feels too intrusive. Still, you’re not sure if you should move from your comfortable position despite the fact that you’re not close enough to him to enter his bedroom just to chill without him present. And the worst of all, you’re pretty sure you’re still soaked from your previous encounter with Minghao. And that you’re still definitely in hell because there is no way you would ever allow yourself to feel this close to coming on Wonwoo’s bedsheets without his permission. 

Two soft knocks on the door diverts your attention to the closed door. 

“Yn,” Wonwoo's deep and tender voice calls your name from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I’m coming in.”

The thing is, this occurrence with Wonwoo had never happened before. You’re stuck in a scenario far different from the other two. So, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are when you saw him walk through his bedroom door. Instead of the tall and built housemate that you sometimes find yourself secretly fawning over, is the sinister yet charming man you haven’t seen in ages. 

Yoon Jeonghan steps into your housemate’s bedroom with the irresistible charm of his while flaunting an oversized black t-shirt whose sleeves almost touch his elbows. The Devil is here, and he knows everything that you’ve been hiding from him.

He slams the door behind him and takes long and fast paced strides toward the bed until his figure towers over you. And the Devil himself smirks as he purposely leans down until his bangs dangle in front of his forehead and your entire upper body is pressed against Wonwoo’s sheets. His right hand presses into the space next to your left shoulder as he looks down at you with a pitiful look on his face. 

“What?” He almost scoffs at you in his beautiful light and airy voice. “You didn’t once stop to think that maybe all of this was my doing? That you would relive your memories with who was it? Kwon Soonyoung and Xu Minghao? You’re more fucking stupid than I remembered. Were you fucked too hard by Seungcheol that you lost a few braincells? Or was it with Joshua when you accidentally hit your head too many times against the inside of his car door?”

He cocks his head to the side as he grabs your chin with his left hand. Cold to the touch, this miniscule action has you struggling to catch your breath. He tilts your head left and right as if to carefully inspect what is his. 

“My pet,” he coos while letting go of your chin. Where his cool fingertips touched your skin now pricks with burning heat. And he takes his time to kneel on the bed while still hovering over your body. “This is the bedroom of the guy you get off to? You don’t think I know about how often you touch yourself while he fucks the people he brings over to this bedroom? And now you’re horny again? You want to fuck on the bed of the guy you want so deep in your gut?”

As stupid as you are, you find yourself shell shocked and in awe at the Devil on top of you so much that you unconsciously nod in agreement to every single humiliatingly detailed sentence that comes out of his mouth. The topic isn’t about Jeonghan and you, but the sexual tension established between the two of you knocks on your pussy and makes your mouth go dry. Fuck, maybe he is right. Fucking other men over the span of time since you last saw Jeonghan could never amount to what you felt when you were fucked by the Devil. Lost in your delusions, you could only get off to what you couldn’t have. And when the world’s most untouchable creature is currently so close to you that the collar of his black tee hangs so low that you can peek through the hole to see the expanse of his lean body, the warning signals your brain is desperately trying to send you are unfortunately dispelled by the eagerness of wanting to take a second dip. 

“How much do you want me?” 

“Enough,” you reply while staring straight into his eyes.

He wastes no time by pulling out his cock from his sweats as you sit up from your previous position. Cold and hard are the two adjectives you can use to describe the feeling of him tracing his cock along your open lips. But he won’t let you touch him. He won’t let you kiss him. He lets you starve as your eyes flitter between his cock on your mouth and his deceivingly beautiful face as he pumps his cock. And he taps his member on your lips, telling you to open your mouth wider. And you can feel him slip himself through the hole you made, how the veins on the underside feel against the smooth and warm inner part of your lips. You’re hungry. Starving. Basically wishing that he’ll let you close your mouth around him and suck him to the point you’re reminded that he had no soul to begin with. 

So when he commands you to suck, you do as he says. You lick the tip, wetting and coating it with your saliva. Swirling your tongue around the length, you warm up the member in your mouth as more of his salty taste coats your tongue. Then you close your lips around him in a perfect “O” while shifting yourself on your knees so you can take him better. 

You suck, hollowing your cheeks while gliding your mouth along his length. God, how you bend so easily for him. Your eyelids flutter as you continue to take him along his curved length. And moan while your mouth is plugged, a muffled moan of ecstasy when you feel him twitch while sandwiched between your lips. To make matters worse, whenever you look up at him as you edge yourself to take him in further, you see that he looks perfectly composed. 

“Wider, slut,” he tells you while pumping what you can’t take. His hand is on your jaw again, and he squeezes your jaw between his long fingers so that it stays open. Your pool of saliva escapes the corners of your lips and trails along your chin before it drops on Wonwoo’s sheets. And he fucks himself in your mouth by manually moving your head along his length, barely giving you enough time to flatten your tongue against the whole of his length. He pushes his length into your mouth and groans when you gag. 

He fucks your mouth to find satisfaction and get off on your uncomfortableness, watching you moan while struggling to keep up with his pace. His hand leaves your jaw and attaches itself to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair as he uses it to swing your head back and forth like the ping pong ball attached to a paddle toy. The two of you know that the rate in which he fucks your mouth is too much for you, yet you find pleasure in being used by the higher being while he fucks your mouth to the sounds of you struggling against his cock and the wet smack of your lips when you spit him out after he comes. You swallow what you have and hurriedly wipe the liquid white off your chin and lips. You watch him tearfully as he finishes with his cock in his hand and his seed on the bedsheets and your thighs. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you stutter as his angry red length bounces in front of your teary eyes. You want to lean in again to put him between your lips before he can punish you. You want him to call you names and make you feel bad about yourself. You want him to pump himself while he looks at you attacking the slit on his tip like how you want him to eat you out. You want to swirl your tongue around the spongy smooth surface before using the tip of your tongue to dig into the area in which his precum emits. 

Your thighs rub together to ease the unsatisfied throb of your core. You need stimulation from him in any way. Just a kiss. A touch. Anything from Jeonghan would probably edge you to completion, but he doesn’t want to help you. And you don’t want to give up this opportunity with him.  

“I’m s-sorry Jeonghan. Jeonghan, I’m sorry. Please…,” you plead as you watch him look down on you with a face of disappointment. You want to physically reach out to him to tell him you’ll do better, to tell him to give you another chance. But you see him take a few steps backwards and you’re sent into a state of frenzied lust and panic. You’ve never been so desperate to please, to complete a request from a man. You’re so deluded by the Devil that it feels as if your entire world will end if you don't please him or hold yourself up to his standards. 

Gone is the man who called you his Angel the first time he met you. In front of you is the Devil who willfully draws you in, who has you stumbling off of your housemate’s bed just so that you can crawl your way over to him in your blissful haze. The more Yoon Jeonghan steps backwards, the more your vision tunnels on his body as you crawl across the bedroom floor, not caring about how uncomfortable the hardwood floor is underneath your palms and your knees. 

When you come to your senses, you realize that it’s a different kind of hardwood underneath your body. Your naked body is displayed on all fours on Jeonghan’s large mahogany office desk like an object on display. You don’t even remember if you had your clothes on in the first place. But it feels as if the Devil suddenly wanted to bring one of the several trinkets he has displayed along his office wall to play with at his desk. You were confident that you could show him how much you’ve changed since you last saw him. Yet he has a way of proving how wrong you are. You’re no match for the Devil, and he intends to keep it that way. And in a way, to be displayed in front of him, it makes you feel as if you’re one of his prized possessions. 

Your eyes watch him as he circles around his desk while he looks you up and down. He’s no longer in his t-shirt and sweats, but in a classic white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black tailored slacks. Golden and thin-wired circular glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. Protruding from the top of his head are his red horns. And this time, the long and forked tail that he previously kept hidden swishes behind his back. He brings the length of his long tail up to his left hand before tightly coiling it around the palm of his right hand like a long red rope. And one look from him through his glasses, a satisfying smirk and an arched brow, you know that you’re done for.

He takes the tip of his tail and traces it along your naked body, causing your body to jolt and shudder in response. He uses it like a teacher’s pointing stick, the tip running smoothly along the curvature of your body. He’s purposely toying with you, watching you try not to squirm every time he traces his tail anywhere near your glistening cunt. 

“Do you think it’s too stuffy in here?” He jests while planting himself at the edge of his desk behind your ass. It hits you that you heard this question before, and only now do you realize that the Devil has been playing with you all along. You feel him trace his tail along your cunt, letting a prong trace along your folds as if it were his finger. 

“Fuck!” you gasp out loud. “That was you?”

You feel the stinging pain on your ass after you hear the crisp slap ring into the air. Your stomach tightens as your pussy clenches in response.

“Shut the fuck up Yn,” he grunts. “Cumsluts can’t talk.”

You moan when you feel his tail go underneath a fold, causing your thighs to go weak. But he pulls his tail away from your core to tap it against your outer thigh. Hold yourself up, the action seems to say. So you gather your strength to maintain your position, ignoring the soreness in your knees and the fact that he’s been with you ever since you stepped into “Craig’s” office. When you spread your thighs, your sensitive cunt opens up like a flower in bloom, warm and wet against the stale office air. Jeonghan doesn’t ravish its beauty like how Minghao often does. He doesn’t want to. 

Although your forearms are tired and your thighs burn from exhaustion, your pussy pulsates like it’s its own living entity — full of life and eager to be filled. Right now, only Jeonghan can grant these conditions. And you’re willing to wait even if your horniness drives you mad. 

He firmly grabs your ass, angling it so that your glistening pussy is in full view. 

“From this point on, I’m going to make you scream my name like a requiem made for angels.” He forcefully pulls your ass back so that it’s pressed against his stomach while he leans over your figure so that his mouth is near your left ear. “I’ll ruin you if you try to crawl away. But I’d like to see you try.”

You’re pretty sure you already soaked his shirt in the place where your core was pressed against the fabric. It amazes you how he easily flips your body so that you’re laying flat on his desk with your legs propped up against the wood. Any further back, you would be in a mating press. 

You wonder if he can read your mind, how much you want to ride him up and down his length and for him to coat you so much that you’re left with soft and silken skin. Even if he tied your hands behind your back, you would still go on your knees to unbuckle his belt with your teeth. 

He’s been sensing your urgency since you summoned him. Looking at your sopping cunt and dragging the tip of his tail along your clit, he decides to ease the heat in your stomach by slowly pushing his tail into your core. You moan in response as you slowly adjust to its size, feeling everything from the way it fills your walls to the way it is as smooth as a glass dildo. You shudder at the way he pulls it out of you for a mere second before pushing it back into you, causing your stomach to twitch and your thighs to close around his hand.

He leaves his tail in you while he pries your thigh apart. 

“What’s the use in thinking about mounting my cock if you can’t even keep your legs open? What’s an ego if you can’t even embody it correctly?” he mocks you before bringing down the hand that once held his tail against your heat. The impact feels as hot as the way your arousal burns. You cry out in elated pleasure; one convulsion is enough to push the tail halfway out of you. “Useless excuse of a human,” he laughs at you before grunting as he pushes his tail back inside, twisting it as he plunges it in and out of you. “You’re all talk, yet you bend at the thought of me.” 

Cock-deprived, you clench around his tail as you gasp for air. Your pussy sucks the tail in and refuses to let go, making you mewl for Jeonghan to fuck you hard while he thrusts his tail in and out of you. “Nn-nh. Jeonghan! Ah- Yes. Yes. Fuck me. Use me.” You squeal and moan out loud as your high builds at an incredible speed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back arches off the desk and you feel as if you’re levitating. “I’m gonna come.” 

“Come.”

You cream at his command, coating his instrument in a thick and white sheen. Your stomach folds inwards as you whimper from the pleasure. He pulls his tail out of you while coaxing more out of you by lightly tapping your nub as you convulse. Overstimulated, you come another time, babbling his name and telling him how good you feel as you squirt against his slender fingers. 

“Look at you,” he coos. “You made a mess on my table only from my tail. What’s going to happen when you take my cock? You’ve already folded yourself into a fucking fetal positon, Yn.” 

You can feel your liquid drip from your pussy to your ass before it pools on the table underneath you. You feel so relieved and relaxed from your high, but there is still this insatiable need for the Devil to fuck you.

When he does, his cock fills you and squeezes you dry. His head rubs against the top of your walls while his veins work like a ribbed toy — adding more pleasure than you have ever experienced. Fingers digging into your thighs, he pulls out and slams back into you, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You want to scream out his name as you clench around his length, sucking him in and never wanting to let go. But the image in front of you is a sight to behold, leaving you breathless as you watch it unfold.

You watch him through your half-lidded eyes, the scene of him as he throws his head back. You can see the way he swallows your cum that coats the tail he sucks in his mouth, how his Adam’s apple bobs when the liquid travels down his throat. You’re nothing but an instrument for his pleasure, and he sure knows how to show it. 

He bucks his length into you so that it kisses the deepest parts of you, causing you to gasp and quake in your stomach. And he keeps it there with his legs pressed against your ass and the underside of your thighs. Slowly grinding against you, he revels in how you choke from the size of him and how you clench and unclench as if you’re struggling to hold on. 

He pops the tail out of his mouth, a long string of saliva like a web between the tip of his prong and his tongue. He looks like a character from a lewd illustration, so beautiful yet so deadly. And you find yourself into another dimension as he thrusts further into you, grunting as he watches you scream for him.

“Fuck!,” you scream as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re going to tear me apart.”

“Gonna,” he grunts between every thrust, increasing his pace with every word. “Make. You. Feel. Everything.” 

Your entire body trembles with pleasure, your breathing erratic. He continues to thrust into you, talking with his sweet tongue about how your slick and puffy pussy drives him insane. 

“There’s nobody in this world who can fuck like I do,” he reminds you. “Now squeeze me hard as I cum in you. We’re going to be making a new type of liquid.”

Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[starstruckgrrl]

CAn u do one for dr stone

Senku tbh js do anything

a/n: i came out of hiding to make this 😛 also i did get another request at the exact same time for a senku x reader so i’m hoping this was also you bc i don’t wanna do 2 in a row 😭

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: you came to visit your favorite future nobel prize winning scientist in the school chemistry lab, but you were bothered on your way there.

~ warnings: smut, afab!reader, no pronouns used on reader, reader has a crush on senku, senku knows, kissing, oral (f receiving), seniors in high school, sweet!senku, confession

as you walked towards the grand science lab at the end of the hall (aka senku’s lair), you fished out a pocket mirror from your backpack to check on how you looked at the moment.

“checking your appearance before you see the mad scientist?” taiju asks you, and you nod in response.

“i’m gonna try to tell him today, so i need to look perfect.”

“good luck!” taiju shouts, “i’m gonna tell yuzuriha tomorrow!”

“i believe in you!” you reply as he runs off to find her.

you swing open the door to the science lab where you find senku writing notes as a solution bubbles before him.

“hello, y/n.” senku greets.

you greet him back and sit next to him, and he finishes his writing and closes the notebook. he turns to face you, looking at you seriously.

“y/n, we should talk.” he says.

oh no… isn’t that YOUR line? you’re the one who came to confess! is he mad you intruded on him? he looks so serious too… this can’t end well.

you immediately begin to worry, and he picks up on that.

“don’t overthink, i’m not upset with you!” he says to stop your train of thought.

“not even one millimeter?” you reply teasingly, looking at him through your lashes with a sly smile.

he grins back at you and shakes his head.

“y/n, you know i’m not one for formalities and tradition. i believe in innovation and science. having a partner always seemed like one of those stupid traditions to me…”

tears begin to well up in your eyes. he knew about your crush, and was trying to let you down easy, you thought.

“but, even so, i am human, i can’t deny how i feel.”

senku grabs your hands and holds them in his, a complete change for the usually non-physically intimate man he is.

“y/n, i… like you. i can tell you like me too, and you just understand me in a way other people don’t.”

senku cringes before he finally says, “will you be my partner?”

“of course i will, senku!” you reply, throwing yourself onto him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close for a hug.

he hugs you back, relishing in the moment for a while. he pulls back to look at you, face to face, before he says, “we’ve been together for 52 seconds.”

you smile wide and laugh, sweet and genuine.

“are you going to be keeping count from now on?” you asked.

“obviously. i will have to know when to buy you anniversary presents.”

you reach up to cup his face and leaned in to kiss him. it starts slow, experimental from the both of you. senku begins to get more passionate, though, to have confessed in the first place, he must be pretty passionate about you. he only involves himself in things he truly believes in or cares about.

senku breaks the kiss to breathe, your foreheads still connected as you inhale and exhale quickly. he let his hands rest on your sides, above your ass, and pulls him towards you, gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

the two of you kiss again, and you begin to feel the familiar heat pool in your lower half as you grind on his thigh, ever so slightly. however, senku being as attentive as he is, of course notices.

putting his hand on your inner thigh and rubbing your core through your pants, he says, “let me help.”

~

you end up laying on your back on an empty table in the science lab, with senku between your bare legs, your pants and underwear laid next to you.

senku is, for once, vulnerable looking as he sits on his knees. you don’t have time to tease him at the sight, though, because his fingers are working so well at your clit, rolling the sensitive bud and drawing circles on it. his mouth is too occupied to tease you for the way your face is so flushed, as his tongue is drawing figure 8s in your cunt.

the two of you are lucky everyone is gone from the school, as the moans you’re letting out would immediately notify anyone nearby.

~

[p0ckykiss]

every second is a highlight - lee heeseung

summary -> heeseung's always had a soft spot for you. it takes a little while longer for him to realise that it's actually something more.

genre -> fem!reader x heeseung, fluff, idiots in love, don't realise they like each other, tiny hints of angst

heeseung swirls the drink in his hand as he waits outside. he didn’t think things through, acted on impulse when he’d seen the flood of messages after his work. this is the only solution he could come up with, wanting to cheer his friend up. heeseung sighs softly, looking down at the melting drink. the tips of his fingers are frozen but he bears the tingling. he switches over, blowing hot air to keep himself warm.

it’s worth it though.

you come out of his building, beaming smile as you spot heeseung by the stairs. if it hadn’t been for the brick wall beside him, heeseung's sure he would’ve dropped the drink. all of a sudden, you run to him, enveloping heeseung in your arms. there’s a lot of squealing in his ear, but he pays it no mind. it’s normal with you and over the years, heeseung can say that he’s immune. he’s aware of the co-workers staring at them, so heeseung pulls away hesitantly. it doesn’t affect you, though. you intertwine your fingers, waving to the others before tugging heeseung away.

“you came all the way to give me my favourite drink?” you ask in between sips. “you didn’t have to, you know. i always rant about work.”

“how often do you end up in a fight with your superior?” heeseung rolls his eyes. you offer a sip of your drink then and without hesitation, he takes a greedy sip.

“ya, that’s like half the drink.” you scoff, grumbling under your breath. “you could’ve gotten your own.”

heeseung doesn’t like any of those drinks though. he doesn’t want to say no to you when you're offering sips of your own. can’t watch your crestfallen face upon rejection. he wonders how long he’ll be able to pull that off for.

“it tastes better.” heeseung grins through his lie. “maybe because it’s yours?”

even though teasing you is a second nature to him now, it goes both ways. heeseung has lost count of the number of times he’s caught you stealing his hidden gummies in the kitchen. he’s come to the decision of stocking that cupboard with all of your favorite snacks. because you love taking them away.

there’s a tug on heeseung's fingers and he realizes you are trying to point out to something. he’d forgotten you were holding hands. the cold from earlier has dissipated, the searing warmth from you is all that he can feel. heeseung keeps a tight hold, not wanting to let go.

“what is it?” heeseung squints.

“can we get some food?” you point to the shop by the road. “i skipped lunch.”

“you told me you ate lunch.” heeseung furrows his eyebrows. he remembers asking earlier and you had confirmed that you did. you've been so busy with work, heeseung has to make sure to remind you during the day.

“before you get mad at me, i was on my way to get lunch. but then, someone needed my help.” you mumble. “i would’ve assigned it to someone else. if only anyone else could do it.”

“i’m dropping by your work tomorrow. we’re eating lunch together.” heeseung sighs, walking towards their new destination.

“no, you won’t. hee, your work is twenty minutes away. by the time you reach me, you’ll lose half your lunch. there’s not enough left for you to return.” you shake your head. “i promise i won’t do it again. just this one time.”

it’s never one time, but heeseung lets it go. butting heads with you about this ends up with you both going in circles. maybe he’ll start organising a weekly meal plan for you both.

“oh, y/n, you’re back!” the elderly woman running the shop greets you first, smiling brightly. “you told me you were going to come last week.”

“i know, i’m really, really sorry. work has me busy.” you apologize. “i promise to eat whatever you recommend today.”

heeseung looks between the two, wondering how often you end up coming here during work hours or after.

“did you bring your boyfriend today?” the owner glances at heeseung. “i hope you’ve been taking care of y/n. she spends too much time working.”

the tips of your ears turn red and heeseung chuckles at your flustered state. he’s not sure if the reaction is about the insinuation of you being together or you over-working.

despite the craving to let you suffer a little longer, heeseung chooses to come to the rescue.

“i’m her good friend, heeseung. we grew up together.” heeseung introduces himself. “i’m trying to keep an eye on her but she likes lying about when she’s eating.”

“it was just today!” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest.

the owner laughs, shaking her head. “let’s go. there’s some empty seats on the other side.”

as soon as you sit down, heeseung notices you shiver. you rub your hands, hoping to generate some heat. your blue coat clearly not enough to keep you warm. heeseung pulls over his jacket, thrusting it in your hands. you look confused for a moment before shaking your head.

“i’ll be fine once i eat.” you push it back towards heeseung.

“you’re shivering. don’t make me zip you up.” heeseung threatens. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. you tend to stubborn about your own wellbeing, choosing to sacrifice it for some silly reasoning.

“won’t you be cold?” you frown. “what if you get sick?”

“living with you for so long has me prepared for your lack of foresight. i have another jacket.” heeseung quips, ignoring your offended gasp.

your bickering is quashed when the food is put down on your table. heeseung watches in amazement as you wolf down at least four pieces in one go. it leaves behind a trail of sauce all over your lips and heeseung grimaces. he wipes it away aggressively with a tissue.

“no one is taking the food away from you. can you eat slowly?” you grin at heeseung's comment.

for once, you listen to heeseung's advice. you take smaller bites and there’s less of a mess. you end up taking at least half of heeseung's bowl too, but there’s no complains on his side. as long as you are satisfied and happy, nothing else matters.

---

“heeseung, wake up.”

someone is shaking him. the tiredness in his body makes him crave more rest and he rolls over, ignoring the disruption.

“we’re going to be late.”

this time, the blanket is ripped off the bed and heeseung shivers as the chilly air hits him. slowly, he opens her eyes, squinting at the person towering over him. y/n? heeseung rubs the sleep away, sitting up slowly as he struggles to make sense of the situation.

“awake now? we have twenty minutes to make the next bus or else we’re screwed.” you help him off the bed. “how the hell did you sleep through your alarm? you’re better than me.”

he remembers briefly stirring in his sleep, but the late night yesterday had taken a toll. heeseung promises himself never to drink with jay and jake on a work night again.

“you could’ve gone to work. my stop is earlier than yours.” heeseung frowns as he looks at the time. you will be late. why did you stay back with him?

“i already called in about my lateness and it’s fine. sometimes over-working has its perks. they were nice about it.” you scrunch up your nose. “i’ll grab you something for breakfast. get ready, okay?”

nodding meekly, heeseung hurries off to get dressed. there’s something suspicious about the way you are acting. did something happen last night? his memory is foggy beyond the point of him downing shots with jake. he’s adding this to the long list of reasons to lock their wine cabinet in the kitchen.

“ready? let’s go.” you hand heeseung his bag, as well as his breakfast. “i’ll meet you after work so that we can go to the café together?”

“what café?” heeseung asks. he doesn’t recall having a conversation about anything of the sort.

you snicker, adding to heeseung's confusion. “i knew you were out of it from your second glass of wine yesterday. jay wanted to visit the café he’s been raving about for a week. you said yes to it last night.”

oh.

“right. i can come to you, if you want?.” heeseung says as you both reach the bus stop. “you’re already busy, plus you’re late today because of me.”

“i am late and we’re going to be on a crowded bus.” you sigh. “heeseung, the direction of the café is towards your work. there’s no point in you coming to me for us to go back.”

the point is made and heeseung realizes the logic behind it. even though he’d rather pick you up from work, there’s no use doubling the travelling.

he spots the bus at the stop, a sense of dread brewing in his stomach. peak hour public transport is the worst. there’s no place to sit, no place to stand. people don’t want to take the empty seats next to strangers. and heeseung hates crowded buses.

you reach out then, loosely interlacing your fingers. you smile softly at heeseung, squeezing his hand lightly. “it’ll be okay. you board first.”

heeseung hasn’t been able to figure it out yet, but somehow you know when he’s unsettled. you know when heeseung is nervous. know when he needs that extra bit of support. and even though he asks you every time, you just shrug your shoulders.

feeling the reassurance of your support has never been an issue. you're vocal about chasing away insecurities and love to show it too. that’s what heeseung appreciates the most. you ground him, anchoring heeseung in the times even he himself doesn’t realize how much he needs it. it’s taken the years of your friendship to realize that your habit is to put everyone else first and then yourself. you cater for the needs of others, their stories, their worries. it gives heeseung the push to do the same for you.

as you both squeeze through the people on the bus, your grip on heeseung only tightens. you let out a shaky breath only when you reach the back of the bus. heeseung glances over at the seats, perking up at the sight of an empty one. he ushers you over before you have a chance to argue. for a moment, heeseung swears he spots a glare on your face, but the bus lurches and you stumble, sitting on the seat.

heeseung giggles, inherently winning an unspoken argument. you will always be the priority in his eyes.

---

“oh, you’re out early.” you walk beside heeseung as you leave the building.

heeseung zones out as you start talking about jay. there’s a dull pain in his chest. one he wants to erase. is it the thought of losing you? heeseung can’t quite comprehend the reasoning. hearing you ramble on and on about jay's funny jokes at work is rubbing him the wrong way.

“–love it more. are you even listening to me?” you pause, crossing your arms over your chest.

no, he isn’t. heeseung opens his mouth to reply but you wave him off.

“we’re here. i’ll pay today.” you say, walking inside the shop.

you regret saying that later when you're at the cashier. heeseung smiles smugly at the long receipt being printed out. of course, he’d take advantage of the offer.

you bicker about it all the way to the café, neither wanting to relent. thankfully, one of your friends, mina ends up breaking your squabbling.

“you guys made it! did you buy me a present?” there’s a shine in mina's eyes as she glances at your bags.

“no.” heeseung deadpans, placing it on the table.

“so mean.” mina mumbles. “y/n, have a look at their menu. i know you like some of the drinks i like, so i can recommend a few for you.”

heeseung chuckles at the excitement brimming between the two of you. always wanting to try out new things. he can’t relate to appreciating the heavily caffeinated drinks. “i’m going to go to the bathroom. i’ll be back in a bit.”

“i’ll order something for you.” you say absentmindedly.

mina locks eyes with heeseung, a teasing grin on her face. before she can do anything with the information, heeseung scrambles to escape.

heeseung took some time to compose himself as he headed back to your table.

he sees confusion plastered on mina's face, busy staring at the americano on his spot. 

“that’s yours?” mina points. “you told me you hated everything coffee related.”

“no, i didn’t.” heeseung winces as he swallows a few sips. still just as bitter as he thought it would be.

“you hate coffee?” you are shocked as you look at heeseung. “but you drink half of mine whenever you buy it for me.”

there’s a hint of hurt laced in your voice and heeseung curses internally. this is exactly what he’d been avoiding. he flits his gaze between you and mina, not knowing how to answer. well, it’s not like mina didn’t know about his inability to say no to you. this isn’t news.

“his taste must’ve changed since we last talked.” mina smiles, chipping away on the pressure. “it’s been a while since we’ve come to a café.”

“that must be it. he never says no to me whenever i offer him sips from my own drink.” you chuckle.

heeseung chokes on his next sip, coughing hard. you didn’t have to say that out loud. his cheeks grow warm as mina looks over at him again. she’ll never live that down.

----

it’s your second bottle of wine you're about to finish between the four of you. you are huddled against heeseung, engrossed in playing with your threaded fingers. mina sits across, busy showing off something on her phone to jay.

heeseung's only had one glass himself yet his tolerance has always been low. you seem to be a bit soberer. his promise to himself about not drinking on weekdays flew out the window as soon as jay brought over two bottles from his father’s restaurant.

“are you okay?” heeseung asks, brushing your hair away from your face as you nod. “do you want to sleep?”

“i’m fine now. more worried about their state.” you chuckle at mina and jay. “how did they drink more than us but seem alert.”

“practice y/n.” jay quips. “don’t push yourself and you’ll build resistance. but i don’t think that’ll ever work with you. weak drinks are too strong for you.”

you grumble at the insult but don’t bite.

“do you guys think you can dance drunk?” mina challenges the three of you. “i bet heeseung can’t even stand on his feet right now.” she giggles at her phone.

heeseung's never one to back down and he leans over, plucking the phone out of mina's hands. what is this? a dance challenge? it seems simple to the eyes but requires a partner. he’s not doing this on his own.

you shift beside him, hooking your chin over heeseung's shoulder.

“that looks hard.” you squint. “why is it so fast?”

“do you want to try?” heeseung gets up, pulling you along with him. “i’ll guide you.”

“you watched it two times. i don’t trust you.” you shake your head.

“i’m offended. you should have more faith in me.” heeseung gasps. “just mirror what i do at the start.”

running through the video one more time, you nod. you stand in front of him as heeseung starts with his right hand up, left hand down. he intertwines his fingers with you, barely masks the sharp inhale that escapes his lips. he’s overwhelmed by your strong grip, but uses it to his advantage, lowering you for a mere second before pulling you back up. heeseung unwinds one arm, giggling as you squeal at the sudden movement. he tugs on your hand again, bringing you close. heeseung leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as your noses brush against each other.

even the darkness of the room couldn’t hide your gaze lingering on heeseung's lips. he meets your eyes, the confliction undeniably reflecting in heeseung's own.

“i don’t want to fight this any longer.” you sigh.

“then, don’t.” heeseung let’s go of your hands, cradling your cheeks between his palms instead. he brushes his thumbs across. “and just so you know, i don’t want to fight this either.”

you close the distance, pressing your lips against heeseung's. your eyes flutter close. it’s just as heated as it’s soft. not what heeseung ever really thought it would be like. it's so much more than that. he encircles your waist as you pull him by his shirt, keeping him near. it’s only when heeseung hears someone clear their throat that he remembers their friends are still there. he hesitantly moves away, kissing your forehead.

“god damn you guys. we didn’t need to see that. but finally!” jay shouts, cheering. “it seems like the plan worked.”

you and heeseung whip your heads back to jay.

“what plan?”

[inmyicyworld]

Personal pillow

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft.

Words count: 1.7K

Warnings: none

Author's note: idk how I feel about it, but i've been thinking about clingy/soft Bucky for way too long, so here you go🫡

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

Bucky Barnes wasn't the most affectionate and nice person on earth. Always grumpy and with an attitude, didn’t like physical touch, and hated being vulnerable and soft. However, when you were alone in your room, he was a completely different man. 

The only thing that he loved more than you, food, and old music was sleep. He hated it right after the Winter Soldier program was removed because of the violent and dark nightmares, but you were the solution to all of his problems. 

He loved sleeping with you. On you, to be exact.

He accidentally discovered it once when he just threw himself onto your bed and somehow laid with his head on your stomach. 

You didn't know why your boyfriend liked it so much, but since that day he always ended up on your stomach, your boobs, or between your thighs with hands wrapped around your body, and it was almost impossible to drag him away. You always ran your fingers through his fluffy hair in soothing motions to ease the tension in his body, and it worked every single time. Bucky slept like a baby in your arms. 

Today he left early in the morning for training with Sam, but then he had a lot of paper work and something that needed to be done in the city, so you didn’t really talk to or see him. He only left a kiss on your forehead while you were still in bed and sent you a few messages throughout the day. 

It was your day off, and you didn’t feel like doing anything special or being productive. So you brought a fluffy comforter from your bed, a cup of hot chocolate, and sat in the common room to watch a movie on a big ass screen that Tony bought to show off.

When the film almost ended and you were already kind of sleepy, you heard firm footsteps from the hall. The tall and big body was standing in the doorframe, but you didn’t see your boyfriend’s face yet; it was pretty dark in the room.

“Hey, baby, how was your day?” You paused your movie and squinted to see Bucky. 

“Fucking amazing. A bunch of assholes and tons of reports that they sent me last minute.” He grumbled, coming closer to you. “Let’s go, I need my personal pillow or I won’t fall asleep.” 

You tried to hold back a laugh when you finally saw his face. Tired and frowned with pouty lips like a child. Bucky was painfully cute when he was a little bit mad and annoyed, and you didn’t want to do anything more than pinch his cheeks and kiss all of his face.

“You look so cute, gosh.” You smiled, biting your lip. “But I have only... fifteen minutes of my movie left, and I really want to finish it today. Do you want to lay on me here for now?” You opened the covers and pointed at your belly. 

Bucky stood there silently for a few seconds, still with a frown on his face.

“I don’t want these douchebags to see us here.”

“They won’t; Steve is on the mission, Natasha is already in her room, and Sam went on a date. C’mon, I’ll massage your head.” That was everything you needed to convince your boyfriend to give up. He took off his shoes and laid on top of you with his head on your stomach and hands around your waist. 

You covered your bodies with a duvet and stroked his hair, brushing it over and over again with your fingers. You felt that Bucky pulled up your shirt a little bit, and as soon as his cheek met with your warm skin, he heavily sighted, finally feeling safe and calm.

“That's okay, baby.” You cooed, massaging his scalp. “Do you want to talk about your day? What made you upset?” 

“No, just want to feel you, doll. Missed you so much.” He mumbled against your stomach and closed his eyes as your soft touches made his body almost melt into yours. 

“I missed you too. I’ll just finish my film and we’ll go to sleep, ‘kay?” Bucky just slightly nodded, already feeling too sleepy to actually say something. 

It didn’t take him too much time to fall asleep completely. Your gentle scratches and the way you rolled his hair around your finger, along with the muffled sound of the TV and soft cover on top of him, did their work, and Bucky was peacefully snoring on you in a span of a few seconds. 

You weren’t much better than him; your eyes started closing as soon as the credit scene began, and you didn’t have enough power in you to resist it, especially when a giant, hot human pillow was sleeping on top of you. 

So you just gave up. 

The first thing that you heard when you woke up was mumbled talk and laughter. Your eyes snapped open because your brain completely forgot that you, in fact, weren’t in your room or bed.

The common room was filled with almost everyone. For fuck’s sake, when was the last time you saw that many Avengers together in one room? And now all of them were sitting on the other couches and armchairs, looking at you and laughing. Well, they weren’t looking at you; they were looking at Bucky, who was still glued to your body. 

You quickly sat straight, now completely awake. The movements disturbed Bucky’s peaceful sleep, making him grumble and try to get you back under him.

“I didn’t know that Cyborgs could be so clingy.” The most annoying voice Bucky could’ve possibly heard in the morning filled his ears, and he lost every last piece of sleep in his body, sitting up on the couch. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Willson? All of you, in fact.” Bucky looked around the room, seeing Sam, Nat, Wanda, Tony, and Clint with shit-eating smirks on their faces; Thor, who looked just happy to be involved; and Steve and Bruce, who actually felt uncomfortable to be there.

“Sorry, Buck, they just...” Steve wanted to apologize but was disturbed by Tony.

“Sam just told all of us to come here a few minutes ago because he had something hilarious. And look! The strong and scary Winter Soldier is being a softie for his girlfriend.” Tony laughed, almost dropping his cup of coffee. You didn’t even expect that, but you felt a sudden wave of anger going through your body because you were already sick of everyone pushing Bucky’s buttons. 

“Or maybe all of you should just mind your own business? You both would actually know something about Bucky if you tried anything besides making fun of him or trying to get him angry. You don’t even understand how fucking hard it is for him to communicate after everything that happened, and all of you are getting on my nerves. Just a bunch of children, I swear.” You growled, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s hand to drag him away. 

Everyone was surprised by your words, and even Bucky looked at you with a weird expression on his face but still stood up, holding your hand. 

“Sweets, it’s just a joke—” Natasha started.

“No, it’s not. I love you, Nat, I really do, but it’s not funny.” You looked around the room. “Y’all probably don’t understand the effect that your words  have, but I see in private what none of you can. And when I tell you that your mockery and jokes make everything worse, I really mean it.” Bucky awkwardly shifted near you under all of the eyes that were glued to him. He felt exposed by the way everyone saw how he showed his affection to you and that he, in fact, was a really touchy and sensitive person. “C’mon, Buck, everything’s okay.” You looked back at him with your usual soft eyes, and his whole attention was now focused completely on you. 

Everyone saw how Bucky’s body language changed when you talked to him, and even if someone like Tony or Sam couldn’t admit it out loud, the thought of being too harsh on Bucky appeared in their heads. 

Without any further words, you lead your boyfriend out of the common room, leaving the Avengers in an awkward silence. 

The comfort of your and Bucky’s shared room made you deeply inhale as soon as the door was closed behind you two. Before you could even say something, two strong hands wrapped around you from the back, and Bucky buried his face into your neck.

“Thank you, doll.” Your hand reached behind you to gently stroke Bucky's hair. “You didn’t have to do it, really. I got used to their words.” He squeezed you tighter, pressing his chest into your back.

“That’s not okay, baby. I’m sick of that. You may not say it to me or even admit it to yourself, but I see that it hurts you.” You turned around in his hands, placing your own on both sides of his face. “But that’s okay that you want to cuddle, to sleep on me, to be held. Really. There is nothing wrong with it. I’m really honored to be the person who is allowed to see your soft side.”

“I love you. Fuck, I love you so much, doll, you can’t even fucking imagine,” Bucky whispered before leaning forward to kiss you.

“I love you, James.”

“Can we stay here today? I don’t really want to talk with anyone besides my sweet and protective girl.” You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his teasing tone. 

“Of course we can, Buck.” That was your last word before Bucky lifted you off the ground, put you on the soft blankets of your bed, and climbed on top of you, happily wrapping around your body and falling asleep. 

[allthingscons1dered]

Like Brothers

Batbros x batsibling!reader, hurt/(some)comfort. Reader is going through it.

warnings: canon typical violence, tons of angst, lots of self doubt. I think this is pretty gender neutral, I apologize if not.

For the past few weeks, you’ve been miserable. It had started with a particularly hard case you’d worked on involving Professor Pyg, and the victims he’d taken hostage. You had caught him in the act of dismantling one of them.

It would have made you physically ill, if there was time for it. Thankfully, your muscle memory took over and you took him down— hard.

Writing the report had been excruciating. You had seen a lot of gruesome and evil in this work. But this… it was stuck in your mind, replaying over and over.

You couldn’t sleep the first night. It was there, in every dark corner of your room and every time you closed your eyes. And if it wasn’t playing out in front of you, the screams were ringing in your ears with every second of silence.

So you trained and tired yourself out, thinking it would be the solution. It would never be so easy, of course. In fact, it was almost worse.

Because now you were sluggish and you had a much harder time occupying your mind with other thoughts. And when you finally drifted off, the nightmares plagued every moment of your slumber.

Sleeping no more than two hours a night was wearing you down. And now, after multiple weeks of this sick game, you were starting to make mistakes.

The first slip is not on patrol, but during school. You fall asleep in the middle of algebra. Which shouldn’t be a huge deal, right?

A classmate decides to take a picture and send it to the newspaper, suggesting issues in the home. And the next morning, you’re featured on the front page titled ‘Bruce Wayne: Unfit Parent?’.

The Wayne family has had its share of unflattering and false news headlines, so it’s truthfully more embarrassing than worrisome.

“That’s definitely not your angle, kiddo,” Jason says as he snags an apple from the bowl in front of you before stalking out of the kitchen.

Bruce ruffles your hair. “Try looking a bit more lively today, okay?”

You smile and duck your head, acting sheepish, but you’re overwhelmed. Having hoped you’d get over this nightmare situation by now.

Instead, you wake every night in tears or sweating bullets. The nightmares are always changing. Sometimes, you’re the one being captured. Other times, you’re forced to watch as your loved ones become disfigured, unable to aid them.

Patrol is the only time that you can clear your thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Until you engage too early, with not enough backup. Spoiler bails you out. She assures you that it’s no big thing, everyone has bad days.

You try to believe her.

The next mistake is made when you’re unfocused against Two-Face goons with Red Robin. They’re lousy fighters and yet, you misjudge a hit, sending you flying into the wall behind you.

It was a rookie mistake. And one you wish had happened without an audience.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asks as he hands you an ice pack for your split eyebrow. “You’re not seeing double or anything, right?”

You’re mad and embarrassed.

“I’m fine, Tim.”

His brow furrows. “You’ve been acting kind of strange lately,” he says.

You give him no answer, picking at your nail beds.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You narrow your eyes and grit your teeth. “I’m fine. It was just a bad day.”

He looks skeptical and eyes you blatantly. “You’ve been having a lot of those recently,” he starts, but you don’t let him continue.

“Whatever,” you snap, jumping down from the bed in the med bay. “You know, I don’t point out all of your missteps.”

You’re irritated, and more than that— you’re ashamed. Everyone in this family has witnessed something gruesome like you had a few weeks ago, and they continued on just fine. Why couldn’t you?

“Wait,” Tim stresses, voice filled with regret. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

A piece of your heart aches. You hardly ever fight with Tim. Though you may not be super close to him, you value his opinion. But now you’re suspicious of what he thinks of you. He’s obviously taken notice of your shortcomings.

You pace a few steps away from him, not quite looking at him as you toss over your shoulder, “I’m fine, Tim. Worry about yourself for once.”

He catches your arm with his hand, turning you around to face him. “Okay, now I know you’re not fine.”

You laugh, though you don’t know why. Nothing about this is funny to you. “Why do you care?” You ask, your words laced with irritation. “You never have before.”

Stop, you think to yourself. You’re clueless as to where this is even coming from. Have you always had these insecurities?

There’s hurt on his face, and it’s clear he’s trying to analyze your behavior so you rip your hand out of his grasp before he has the chance to.

“I’m just stressed about that stupid headline, Tim,” you lie easily, not giving away any of the usual body language while doing so. “So, drop it.”

You stalk off and hide in your room for the rest of the night, hating yourself for acting so stupid.

Tim didn’t hate. You knew that. Right?

The next night on patrol, you end up getting pistol whipped by one of Black Mask’s men. Your movements were too slow to block the strike— your body exhausted from the lack of sleep. Which lands you on the ground and seeing stars with a gun pressed against your temple.

Luckily, Red Hood was there to prevent the making of sidewalk art composed entirely of brain matter.

Your brain matter.

“Jesus,” he whistles low, hands tilting your head towards the streetlight to look at the purpling bruises on your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take such an avoidable hit this hard.”

His comment burns you, even without intention. It’s a meaningless jab, one that’d you normally laugh at and return in good nature. Tonight is different.

“Yeah, he caught me off guard, I guess,” you dismiss him, shoving his hand away.

Jason rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Yeah, no shit. You’re lucky I was here tonight, or this would be an entirely different conversation.”

Shame claws through your chest, causing you to clench your jaw. You pull the hood of your cloak over your damp hair and grab your grappling hook, firing and swinging away before more can be said.

You don’t sleep that night, which is no surprise. The imprint of the cool barrel of the handgun has made a lasting impression on your mind. It’s a feeling you can’t shake, sending chills up your spine.

Even worse is the disappointment you’ve seen in everyone’s eyes recently. It leaves your skin crawling and your heart aching.

When you make your way to the Batcave the next evening, you find three of your brothers conversing around the mantle of the Batcomputer. Only Jason is suited up, but is maskless like the other two.

You briefly wonder where Bruce might be, before remembering that he’s on a JLA mission.

Damian is with Jon at the Kent Farm for the weekend, thankfully. You don’t think he’d let you live down one mistake after another.

The sound of your approach draws their attention to you, and each of them seems worried.

“Uh, hey guys,” you greet, a small awkward wave as you survey their body language. The smile on your lips is strained but you’re hoping it leaves a good impression nonetheless.

It doesn’t, of course.

Dick steps forward, the golden boy he is. “Hey, kiddo.” Kiddo, always ‘kiddo’ with him. “You seem a little run down recently. Everything alright?”

You could come clean and explain that you’ve been going weeks without proper sleep, earth shattering images haunting you around every corner. They might understand.

But then you look at the three of them and consider all that they’ve witnessed and lived through, and now you feel sick with shame.

How pathetic you are, for believing you’ve been having such a hard time when each of them has overcome major adversity.

So no, you’ll save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that you’re dealing with childish bad dreams.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you laugh with a shrug. “I’m fine.”

You catch eyes with Tim and you realize he must’ve brought this conversation about.

Dick reaches out a hand, setting it on your shoulder. “You know you can talk to us, right?” His tone is gentle and it’s almost enough to break your resolve.

Almost.

“Why are you all convinced something is wrong with me?” Lie, your mind says. Lie until you believe it too. “I have a few bad days and suddenly, I’m not good enough for you.”

“Woah,” Jason raises a hand in defense. “No one said that, kid.”

“No,” you agree, stepping out of Dick’s grasp, “but you’re all thinking it.”

“This!” Tim raises a hand and points an accusatory finger at you, looking from Dick to Jason with his brows raised. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

A breath heaves from your lungs as you huff, face pulsing red with your embarrassment. “Oh, so you’re talking about me behind my back now?”

Tim levels you with an intense look. “I asked you what was wrong and you refused to tell me.”

“Because there’s nothing wrong,” you shout, your voice echoing throughout the cave. “God, why won’t you just believe me?”

You hate the way your voice cracks with the last statement. It’s obvious that you’re slipping.

“Hey,” Dick approaches you again, raising a hand placatingly, “Tim is just trying to help. We all are.”

Your fists are clenched, crescent-shaped marks digging into your palms. The air is so thick with tension that it is difficult to breathe.

“If you don’t tell us what’s going on, we’ll have no choice but to bench you.”

The speed at which you look up at Dick is breakneck. His jaw is set, eyebrows creased. Everything about him screams that he means business.

He’s dropped the ‘approachable-and-friendly-older-brother’ gig, branding himself the adult in the room.

“You can’t do that,” gasping, you thread your hands through your hair.

Dick folds his arms against his chest, raising his chin slightly. “I can,” he affirms, strong in his decision. “Bruce left me in charge and I know that he’d agree. You need to work through your issues before you can go back out on patrol.”

“That’s rich,” you snap, “coming from you of all people.”

Dick doesn’t take the bait of your harsh words. Continuing to stand solidly against you, he only raises his brows.

Tears come forth but they don’t fall from your eyes. You look at Jason and try to silently plead with him, but he seems just as content with this.

You tear your eyes away and trace them back to your eldest brother, looking him in the eyes. “Fine,” you concede, voice flat. You look back to Tim and glare. “I hope you’re happy.”

Confusion breaks across his face before fading into annoyance. “If it means you’re not out there being reckless— then yeah, I’m thrilled.”

You can’t control your eye roll as you scoff. “Whatever. How long is this prison sentence supposed to last, anyway?”

Dick tilts his head, something close to disappointment etched into his features. “This isn’t a punishment. You need time to decompress. Something is clearly bothering you.”

You blink at him. Whatever answer he’s searching for, you’re not giving it to him.

“Look, kid,” Jason stalks forward, his hands on his hips. “You can either save yourself the trouble and tell us now, or we’ll just wait you out. Your choice.”

“Why would I tell you guys anything?” You spit, your words setting the air around you ablaze. “You’ll only judge me even more than you already do.”

Jason shakes his head, denying it. “You know it isn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Tim interjects. “When have we ever judged you?”

You sneer at him. “What do you think you’re doing right now, genius?”

“We’re trying to look out for you,” he snaps back, “like brothers.”

There’s a lump in your throat. And you can’t clear it. You face away from them, tears stinging your eyes. They were trying to help you and you couldn’t even let them in.

You shake your head, “You’ll be waiting awhile, then, because the only thing wrong with me is being suffocated by your constant worrying.”

The shock on their faces is evident as you take your leave, stomping up the stairs and into the manor. You regret your words, wishing that you had just come clean. It was clear that they cared about you, that maybe your insecurities were lying to you.

But what if they weren’t? What if they weren’t just insecurities?

“I know you’re angry with me,” Tim begins, following behind you down the hall toward your room— you had failed to notice his presence, “but we’re just worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

You stop at the door to your room but you don’t enter. Nor do you look at Tim.

“I hear you at night.”

That grabs your attention. Your eyes snap to him and his face is sympathetic, not judgemental. It’s worrisome, not hateful.

“What?” You ask, breathless.

“The nightmares,” he reiterates. “You aren’t able to sleep because of them.”

It’s not a question— you realize that he knows this to be true. It makes sense. He’s a detective, just like the rest of the family, but Tim is different.

He discovered the identities of both Batman and Nightwing, all on his own. Simply because he wanted to. And he obviously wanted to know what was causing you to behave this way.

“It started a few weeks ago,” you admit bashfully, voice barely above a whisper.

Tim frowns, brows lowered. “Professor Pyg.”

You nod, eyes vacant and unfocused. “All I can hear, when I close my eyes, are their screams. And then I think, ‘I could’ve gotten there faster.’”

A humorless laugh escapes your lips and your flies to cover your mouth, startled by it.

Tim reaches out, grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You did the best that you could.”

Your somber eyes meet his, just before tugging your hand away. “And it still wasn’t enough.”

His expression falls as you slip away and into your room, hiding from the shadows of the manor and from the guilt you couldn’t possibly hope to outrun.

A/N: Sorry for, like, a crap ton of angst. Okay, I’m not sorry. It’s what I’m best at, unfortunately. Would yall be interested in a pt2?

[caitchercatlady]

Not Having a Good Time

-Heartslabyul Version

Note: Hey, everyone. So I've had these stories on the back burner for quite a bit, and I do have intentions to work on more than just this one imagines series. I hope you guys like this one nonetheless first <3

Riddle Rosehearts

As much of a stickler Riddle is for keeping the peace, unless it's necessary not to, he can tell when someone is not in the mood for nonsense in the exhausted sense of the word. He will ask to speak with you in private, away from any snickering and gossip.

"Queen's Rule #568: Grievances must be shared over a cup of lavender tea and the griever's favorite treat."

You and Riddle will enjoy this occasion in the quiet side of the garden, where Riddle allows you to rant about your issues as he listens with open ears. Riddle always had Trey and Chen'ya who would listen to his problems, so it was only right as a Housewarden to act upon his position with you, even if you aren't his house student.

He knows it's not the permanent solution, but, while also warning not to tell anyone that this happened, he gives you a hug of comfort, lifting your spirits just a little.

Trey Clover

You have your head to the floor, so you don't notice Trey approaching when you accidentally bump into him and step on the tip of his shoe. Already distressed enough as it is, you apologize profusely. Trey smirks as he replies:

"It is just a shoe, not my mother's flower garden. Why don't you walk with me?"

As Vice Housewarden, the solver of the majority of the dorm's problems and the mediator of all squabbles, it is Trey's natural instinct to approach you the moment he sees the frown on your face. He allows you to express your grievances as you walk through the campus garden.

Trey believes the best way to release stress is a nice baking session. He even lets you do the kneading and taste testing steps.

Cater Diamond

Even though you just want to be alone in Ramshackle Dorm, prior to your return to your dorm, Cater couldn't help but notice how stressful you've felt all week if your account is proof of anything. He couldn't help but send you a DM on MagiCam.

Your latest pic is looking pretty gloomy. If you wanna talk, spam me as much as you like. -CayCay <3

You gladly take the offer since you felt comfortable ranting not face-to-face. You can tell that Cater is reading them by reacting to each message you send with an alternate sad or a heart emoji.

As a peacemaking offering, Cater tells you that if you are ever interested in doing a "Cay Cay pampering session," he'd be at your dorm in half a finger snap to help clear the stress from your mind.

Ace Trappola

When you're not feeling your best, the last you need is someone or something to make it worse. Ace didn't get on your best side as he pulled off the "dunk your face into your lunch" prank today. He didn't react so nicely when you told him off, but after realizing what had gone on prior to that prank, he finds you during flying class to try to make things up for what he did.

"Yuu...what happened at lunch today, I'm sorry. I should've just said, "Hi," and asked how you were doing. I didn't know you were already mad. Please forgive me. If you can't, let me make it up to you somehow."

If Ace wasn't sincere, you supposed he would've waited until after class was over to apologize. Now that he was listening, you let out everything that had been going on before Ace pulled off the prank. You also express the "I message," which Ace is more than willing to accept.

With Vargas busy with...whatever Vargas is doing, Ace offers you to go on a flying ride with him. A little entertainment screaming would do you some good to make you forget about your problems...even just a little.

Deuce Spade

Deuce finds it odd that you've been less chatty as of late. You barely even spoke when the professors pointed to you for answers to their questions. He catches you after class and asks what's happening. He's all ears to hearing you out. That's when you finally respond, and he feels the pain with every word that comes out of you.

"Ah geez, Yuu. I'm really sorry. I think I've been feeling it, too, and when I'm feeling that way, I need a Blastcycle ride. Wanna go on one right now?"

You don't find that to be a bad idea, so you guys head out and take a campus ride to let the issues out of your hair. The island is lovely enough for its wind to brush it right out.

[luveline]

if you’re ever in the mood to write for kbd again i’d love to ask for an argument fic! i’m a huge hurt/comfort fan and i feel like the arguments you write always feel so realistic and healthy(?) in a way? ily

thank you for your request! im glad u like how i write arguments bcos i find it so difficult, I hope this fills your hurt/comfort needs! kbd | dad!steve x mom!reader

You're tapping your foot on the kitchen floor, annoyed and upset and not sure if you should say anything about it. 

Dove said her first words today. And you found out through Avery, who sits on the kitchen table in front of you with her legs dancing over the edge, clearly unhappy that you're unhappy, her hands stroking your cheeks affectionately. She's only six. You feel terrible that she can tell you're upset. 

"Mom, how can I make you happy?" she asks.

It's something you've said to her a thousand times. She cries, and she's finally at the age where you can ask her what solution she needs. 

You love her, but your patience isn't very strong today. You remove her hands from your face gently and give her a weak smile. 

"I just need to talk to daddy, that's all." 

"I'll go get him!" she says, clambering onto your legs and down onto the ground. 

You don't really like the idea of summoning him for a scolding, and you've been with him long enough to know how to navigate a disagreement without a fuss. But you aren't perfect, and neither is he. When he arrives in the kitchen with a broken baby doll in his hands, he looks so comely, so homespun, and you're still mad. 

"Why didn't you tell me Dove said her first words?" 

His eyes light up, but he swiftly fixes his expression into a more neutral one. "I– sorry, yeah, she said daddy." He grins like he can't help it. He probably can't. "Oh, you should've heard it, she couldn't have sounded less excited to say it, what a doll." 

"But why didn't you tell me?" 

Steve seems to clock where this is heading, then, and puts the doll down on the kitchen counter. "It slipped my mind." 

"Really? Her very first words slipped your mind? Like, that's not extremely important to you?" 

"Of course it's important to me." Steve's eyes narrow, and his eyebrows start to rise. It's not an angry look nor is it cruel, but it rubs you the wrong way. It's sceptical. "But I'm busy all of the time. Which you know."

You're getting more and more irate. It's not his fault, but it feels like his fault in the moment, and you don't like how he's talking to you, and your head hurts. 

"I didn't say you're not busy, but I still think you should've told me when I came in."

"I just– I don't know, I had to give Bethie a bath, and then Dove was fussing. And now her doll's broken. I was busy." 

You sigh. "Sometimes," you say, more depressed than mad, "you act like they're not even mine. You act like they're just your girls. I'm their mom." 

"Do I do that?" he asks, incredulity leaching into his words.

"Steve, you should've told me straight away. She's my baby, I should've found out from you, and not Avery, like an afterthought." 

"I told you, I forgot." 

"I don't care if you forgot– actually, I do, because that's the problem. You shouldn't forget to tell me when my own daughter starts talking–" 

"You're acting like I chose not to tell you. I wasn't not going to tell you, but I have other things on mind! I have a lot to do, in case you forgot!" 

"Like I'm not busy too?" you ask. "Like I don't work all day every day to come home to you. To make sure there's a home to come home to." 

"You're throwing that in my face?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No! No, I'm just saying that I'm busy too, you're not the only one who has to do things, Steve, but the difference is that I would never forget to tell you something like that!" 

"Maybe if you were home, you wouldn't need to shout at me about it. You feel guilty and you're taking it out on me." 

You don't see red or anything so aggressive —no. You just feel like he's slapped you, like he's reached right into the centre of your chest and said the thing that's going to hurt you the most. 

You don't want to cry. You know how it looks, like you're losing, so you're crying, so he'll feel sorry and make you feel better. Steve has known you and loved you for years and he knows the look on your face before tears have even welled up. You twist away from him and cover your face with your hands, your skin hot as a burning hearth. 

And the tears are pathetic. Sniffling, quiet, high-pitched in the back of your throat. It's not fair. It's not fair, you want to stay home too, you want to see their first moments, and you don't get to do it and he's shouting at you and you just want to shrink into nothing right then and there. You're tired, and you're embarrassed at yourself for speaking to him like that. He doesn't deserve it.

"Honey," Steve says, all malice gone. "Honey, don't. It's okay." 

"I'm fine." 

"No, it's okay," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder. 

"Ignore me," you say, "I'm not crying to– I'm just mad." 

"Don't cry," he murmurs, pressing his lips to your crown. "Don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry." 

Love is so unfortunate, sometimes. He's the only one who you want comfort from, but you're so mad at him. Even if he's right. The anger is as illogical as the love; you want him to go away and you need him to rub your back as you snuffle. 

"It's not fair, Steve. You can't just say that."

"I know. I'm sorry. I know you can't be home. I know I'm the lucky one. I know how much you've given away to let me have what I want," he says, moving so he's face to face with you. 

"Now you'll think I'm crying just to be the one upset," you say with a sob. 

"Only a little bit." He laughs fondly at your frown. "I'm kidding!"

You cry so much he has to wrap his arms around you to keep you together. It's not his fault, but suddenly everything breaks the surface, how guilty you feel for missing out, how annoyed you are at him for knowing that and still giving you a hard time, how annoyed you are at yourself for shouting at him over something he can't control. You cry because you miss the girls, you miss him, and you're tired. There's hundreds of tiny reasons. 

Steve sounds a little emotional himself when he says, "God, I'm sorry." His cheek pressed hard to your ear, his hug tightening. "I'm a dick, making you cry." 

"I'm a dick. I'm sorry," you say, head heavy, tears slowed. 

"It's okay. I know why you're upset. I promise I know. I shouldn't have got so defensive… but I really did forget, honey. I'm sorry, but I did." 

"I know. I'm sorry for being a bitch about it." 

He laughs and pulls back to cup your cheek. "You are not a bitch. You got upset, you're not the antichrist." 

You sniff. Steve pulls the corner of your mouth into an uneven smile and then, slowly, leans in to dot a kiss there. When he moves back, his face is slack. An unhappiness lingers in his lips and his eyes where they're trained on your tacky cheek. 

He moves in for a second kiss. This one is firmer, longer, and you reciprocate with relief. 

"Do you really think that? That I act like they're just my girls?" he asks when he pulls away. 

You duck your head so you don't have to look at him, or face the mean things you'd said. Not just mean, either, but the things you're embarrassed to have thought. 

"Not really. Sometimes I feel like…" You don't want to say it aloud. You rub the skin of his wrist in a fidget. 

"Go on," he says. 

"I worry I'm not choosing the right thing. I would never ask you to give this up… I really wouldn't. But I worry I'll regret not being here."  

Steve wraps his hands in your t-shirt and pulls it toward him. You're becoming more and more intertwined as the conversation progresses, your faces much too close. 

"We've always said," he says slowly, "that you could change your mind. That you could come home, and that I would work. We've always said that. You don't have to be afraid to tell me you've been thinking about it." 

"I haven't." You sniff. "I don't even think I could do it." 

"Are you kidding?" Steve asks. 

A rogue tear races down your cheek. If you speak, you'll sob, so you shake your head and hold onto his wrist for dear life. 

"You're the best mom they ever made," he says, easing closer still, his face imploring, pleading with you, "why would you ever think you can't do it? It’s different to when you’re home, being alone with them, it's fucking hard, and I think you'd struggle to get used to it at first because I still struggle now, but you could do it. I know you could. You could stay at home and look after them if you want to, I want you to do that if it's what you need." 

"This is silly," you say. 

"It's not silly." 

"I've made this all about me. I was angry at you and now you're comforting me." You stroke his cheek with your knuckle. "I'm the one who should be comforting you. You race after the kids all day and then the wife comes home and grabs you by the ear."

"I think I'd kinda like it if you did," he says. 

You both laugh. 

"I'm sorry," you say. 

Steve nods. "Yeah, me too." 

You bite back everything that's hurting. It's only a temporary pain. You'll figure out what you want, and you have your best friend in the world kneeling in front of you, willing to do anything if it'll help. 

"I should be nicer to you," you murmur. 

"You're plenty nice. But if you're still feeling guilty, I'd die for a kiss, sweetheart." 

You wipe your face with your sleeves, wet cheeks, snotty nose, and brush your hair away so you look like someone worth kissing. "Do I look okay?" 

"You look beautiful," Steve says fondly, leaning in for a kiss. His hands bracelet your wrists. "So pretty," he says between kisses. 

"Don't," you chastise lightly, "this is why I keep getting knocked up." 

"In that case," he says against your lips. He deepens the kiss against your charmed laughter, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you still in the face of his ardency. 

You part before things can get heated and he lets you apologise again, though he insists it isn't necessary, your arms over his shoulders, your nose in his hair. He's always been so good like that —Steve doesn't hold a grudge with you (though others may not be so lucky). He stands you up, brushes you down, even wipes your cheeks with a washcloth. It's why you could never send him to work. He's a caretaker down to the bone. 

Bethie, sweet girl as she is, appears as he's wiping your puffy eyes. She's almost three and a half, and she's the cutest girl in existence if Steve is to be believed. He visibly softens at her entrance alone. 

"Hello, Bethie-baby," he says, "we were wondering where you were. Did you finish your crackers?" 

She's a daddy's girl and she always has been, so it surprises you when she pretty much ignores him and holds her hands up to you. You pick her up, let her settle against your chest. 

"Hey, Beth." 

"Missed you," she says. 

"Oh, you did?" you ask, overjoyed. You sniffle the last of your upset away and lock it down tight. 

She's a quiet baby. You worried she had developmental issues at first (which wouldn't have mattered in terms of love, but worried all the same), though these days your theory is that she doesn't want to speak very much. She likes to communicate in other ways, namely affection, and her face brushes yours as she hugs you. 

You pat her back like she knows she likes. Steve smiles at you from over his shoulders. You wear twin expressions —I'm sorry, I love you, isn't she lovely?

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hiiii your a great writer and can I please have a hug from luffy? I really need one tatey ❤️

Even though…my requests are closed…u called me Tatey and I thought that was very cute. So yes.

“Hug Me!” Luffy x Fem Reader (FLUFF)

“Where’s y/n?”

“Where’s y/n?!”

“Y/N!?”

He searched and search, checking every barrel, every cabinet, every closet, but you were no where to be found.

“Y/N!” Luffy’s Whiney voice began to come out ringing in everybody in ear shot to be a victim of hearing. He only got like this when he was frustrated. His flip flops pattered all through the huge ship looking for you.

He wanted to see you for something.

Luffy felt a bit

Off.

He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t sad or angry he just felt a bit not himself today

This has happened before and you helped him with a simple solution and now he believes you and only you can do it again.

He tried Nami. Didn’t work got slapped.

He tried Robin. It helped for a second, but it wasn’t the same.

He needed you’s specifically for this, but you were no where to be found?!

“Namiiiii did we accidentally throw y/n overboard?”

“No! Of course not! She’s probably in her room? She said she was feeling a bit tired today.”

He slaps his head, OF COURSE YOU’RE IN YOUR ROOM!

He rushes out the kitchen, scurring with his hand on his hat merely in giggles at the thought of you.

“Y/N!” His eyes lit up, there you were. Laying on your tummy drawing. Your face was a bit startled seeing as you were interrupted from the peace and quiet you’ve already adjusted to for the pst hour. Luffy snickers quick to walk to you, put his hat on your head and laid his body on your back like a blanket. “I was looking for you!”

“Luffy…” You groaned slowly moving your lower half side to side to wiggle him off, but that only signaled him to squeeze harder. “Ah! I told you I wanted to be in my room today.”

“Well I need help!” Luffy got from on top of you and dragged you by your arm to sit up, you couldn’t get mad entirely his smile was so contagious you caught yourself smirking.

You raise your eyesbrows to see what exactly he needs help with and he just extends his string like arms and wraps them around your entire body closing you in now chest to chest with your Captain.

It wasn’t too tight, but it still managed to knock the wind out of you, your face now in his neck inhaling his natural sweaty/musky/rubbery scent. His nape tickling your nose because his hair is still unkept and growing even faster.

Luffy rocked you back and fourth lightly humming, just what he needed! He felt warm and happy again!

You look up from his chest and he looks down back at you and you both smile and laugh. Of course…

“Luffy you just wanted a hug?”

“Yeah! You give the best ones.”

“Well let me hug you correctly, Lu.”

He nods and released you from his grasp, arms now regular length but open wide similar to his smile, exposing his small dimples you found so cute when he smiled that hard—waiting for it.

“Okay! Hug me!” Luffy laughed, and You smile, you get up from the bed, you were a bit taller than him so your arms wrapped around his neck and you gave him the best bear hug you could, swinging him back as you both hummed in unison, even finishing it with a tiny peck on the cheek making them just a very faint pink at the soft touch of your lips.

“Thank you, Y/N I feel better now!”

He pecks your cheek back so quickly you almost didn’t notice it before he fixes his hat back on your head.

Luffy was a simple man and you were a simple woman. And sometimes little things like hugs from you was all he needed to feel better.