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#step brother au
nastybuckybarnes · 6 months
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Training Wheels  -  Extra
Pairing: Dark!Step-Brother!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader
Summary: Your stepbrother would do anything for you. And he’s more than happy to prove that over and over and over again until you believe him. No matter what it takes.
Warnings: Language, Dark Themes, Age Gap, Angst, Kinda Fluff, 
Word Count: >1K
A/n: I wrote this forever ago but never posted it so here’s a little extra piece for training wheels. The first parts can be found below. I’ve got two other things queued up to be posted that I might just fire off right away for shits and gigs but who knows!
Part One Part Two Part Three
!!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT! 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
~*~
The line rings for a moment before connecting, a heavy breath filling the silence before- “Hi, Bunny.” 
Your insides melt, bottom lip wobbling as you look through the thick glass to those endless blue eyes that you’ve fallen in love with. 
“Hi, Steve.” 
He smiles softly, his eyes devouring your features. 
You haven’t changed at all since he last saw you. 
Well, you look more tired, and your face is the tiniest bit rounder, but other than that you’re the same. And just as beautiful as ever. 
“How’re you doing, sweet girl?” 
You swallow hard, fighting tears as you sigh. 
“I’m okay. I... I miss you.” 
He nods, knowing the feeling all too well. 
“I miss you too, honey. But I’ll be out soon, okay?” 
You nod, biting your bottom lip for a moment. 
“My mom doesn’t want me to come visit you anymore, says you’re dangerous. I tried convincing her but she doesn’t wanna hear it. Your dad drove me here though, he said he’s glad you have me.” Your eyes stay trained on his, sadness filling them. 
“I miss you,” you repeat, tears filling your eyes. 
He sighs, placing his hand against the thick glass separating the two of you. You lift your own hand, squeezing your eyes shut and wishing you could feel his warmth. 
“Hey, look at me, Bunny.” 
It takes you a moment, but you do, your eyes meeting his. 
“I’m gonna be out of here soon, pretty girl. Then we’ll be back together again. I’ll build us a nice house and your mom won’t have any say in it, okay?” 
You nod, taking a deep breath.
“I-” A hand falls on your shoulder and you jump, turning to look at the person.
“Time to go, girly.” 
You grind your teeth but nod at the security guard, turning back to look at Steve.
“I love you, Steve,” you whisper into the phone. 
His eyes soften and he gives you a soft smile. 
“I love you too, Bunny.” 
You hang up, eyes lingering on his for a moment longer before you’re being ushered out of the building. 
~*~
You shut the door to your apartment with a sigh.
It’s been a long day. 
You peel off your shoes then head towards the couch, freezing in your tracks when you see a figure standing by the TV. 
“Hey, Bunny.”
Your heart races in your chest, throat constricting and hand fluttering down to your stomach. 
Steve. 
He turns to you with a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 
“I thought you weren’t getting out for another six months!” You exclaim softly. 
“Got out early. Of course, I would’ve told you that, but you stopped coming to see me.” His eyes get dark, borderline hostile, and you swallow hard.
“I... Mom kicked me out when I tried to see you. When... when she found out. Bucky and Nat helped me find this place and I've been trying to save up money for when you got out.” 
His brows pull together and he takes a step towards you slowly, not wanting to scare you after all this time. 
“Honey, you didn’t need to stop coming when she kicked you out.” 
You sniffle, a stray tear sliding down your face. 
You did. 
He couldn’t find out. Not while in prison. He would’ve fought tooth and nail to get out and that would’ve only kept him from you for longer. 
“I... Steve I...” 
His eyes devour your figure, zeroing in on where your hand is protectively on your belly. 
“Bunny...” His eyes flash up to your face then back down to your bump. 
You only nod. 
“You... is that why you stopped coming? Why your mom really kicked you out?” 
You nod again, sniffling and scrubbing a tear off of your cheek. 
“I-I didn’t wanna tell you ‘till you got out. But...” 
He’s got you in his arms in the next second, lips pressed against your forehead as he whispers soft little words of reassurance.
“It’s gonna be okay, Bunny, I promise. M’gonna take care of you and our little one in here.” 
He pulls back a bit, eyes on your protruding belly. 
“You look so pretty like this, Bunny. All nice and knocked up. Got my baby growing inside you. Can't wait for you to have my baby, Bunny. Then m’gonna fuck another one into you.” 
You whine, tilting your head back to look up at him, and he finally, finally, closes the distance. 
His lips find yours after seven months of no contact. 
Seven long, torturous months. 
But now you’re here in his arms and he’s here in yours. 
He’s not letting you go. Not again. 
373 notes · View notes
mayullla · 2 years
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Lol. You can use part 2 and 3 for when mc legit learns how to bike because apparently Itto and Chongyun only taught her what NOT to do. They didnt even give her safety gear lmfao. I can just see Albedo having a stoic expression but actually holding mc (who just has this innocent chibi look) tightly to his chest with shaking hands because boi he almost had a heart attack seeing his sister riding down the hill on a bike without even a helmet. Also if Zhongli is the dad, Diluc is mom☆Starlight anon
Will do! TvT This is the continuation of this!
Albedo didn't know what happened really, he was just planning on going to the mart to buy something sweet what was he supposed to do when he heard a scream, shouts and cries that sounded so familiar looking to the side only to see you speeding up towards him on a bike that almost too big for you to properly use. Your expression was that of worry and confusion and when he looked at your back Chonyun and Itto's expression of full panic.
Nobody had time to reach when the bike hit the ledge sending you flying forward. Albedo didn't have time to think when he dashed towards you catching you in his arms before you could hurt himself yet the force pushed him to the floor.
His back was in so much pain but he can't think about it when he was worried about you. He forced himself up a little to take a look at you on top of him searching for scratches or bruises only to thankfully find none.
He heard someone yell his and your name but didn't bother to look placing his head back on the floor in relief with you still in his arms. "Albedo...?" His arms tighten when you tried to sit up, "Don't move." He told you his voice was soft yet a hint demanding that you didn't notice.
"Are you guys alright?" Kaeya asked worriedly looking at you and Albedo who just nodded. He wasn't sure what to do for a moment but just looked at you if got hurt anywhere.
When Diluc heard in the living room everything that happened he got so angry at the two boys. You could get seriously hurt, why did they let go you in such a stiff hill!! Where were the helmet and the knee and elbow protector? What about the gloves?? Itto and Chonyun were both looking down unable to say anything.
The whole time you stayed in Albedo's arms as the man refused to part with you except when you have to go to the bathroom, it was only when it was dinner did he let you go so that you could finally sit on your chair.
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muffinlance · 1 year
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Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.
Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes. 
He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—
He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.
“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”
They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.
* * *
They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.
They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.
The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff. 
His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.
“Thank you, father,” Iroh said. 
Lu Ten held his silence.
* * * 
Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.
She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.
There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne. 
Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.
Third, because father was, too. 
He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too. 
She was nine.
* * *
Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.
Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—
If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.
He was eleven.
* * *
Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.
On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.
* * *
Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.
Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last. 
Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.
* * * 
“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames. 
Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.
“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”
“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”
Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.
“We believe—”
“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”
Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.
“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”
‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all. 
His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?” 
The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly. 
“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”
“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.
“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”
Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face. 
“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
Iroh closed his eyes.
“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”
The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.
“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”
* * *
Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—
And they’d shaved his hair. 
* * * 
It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.
They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.
* * *
They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.
Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.
She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.
It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.
* * *
Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.
The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value. 
Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.
Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled. 
Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder. 
Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.
* * *
Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.
“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?” 
“Uncle said—”
“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”
The dumb ones had already been executed. 
“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”
“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”
They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited. 
Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.
They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.
Zuko had to find the Avatar.
* * *
(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)
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dreadsuitsamus · 5 months
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anyway imagine being yuji's best friend that flirts with both of his older brothers
yuji hates it (bc he wishes you'd flirt with him)
sukuna encourages it (bc he's a bastard man)
choso is flustered by it (bc he's a fucking virgin)
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onsunnyside · 2 years
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²⁴.⍭ 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝?
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Stepbrother!Curtis Everett x innocent!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | STEPCEST, college au, virgin!reader, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, somnophilia, oral (f), p*ssy spanking, dirty talk, elements of p*ssy worship, innocence/corruption kink, beard burn, overstimulation, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, squirting, the puffier the better.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Curtis has always protected you, and after a horror movie marathon, it’s no surprise you seek comfort in his bed.
𝗪/𝗖 | 6.14K
𝗔/𝗡 |  as we reach the end of our smutty october, here is dirty train daddy Curtis. No gifs/photos belong to me, check the Pinterest board on my kinktober masterlist, all credits go to the original creators. All mistakes are my own. [concept asks | fic asks]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Curtis hears you before he sees you. The hallway light switches on before your shadow appears at the bottom of his door. It opens silently, revealing you bundled in a sweater and a pair of fuzzy socks, dragging a blanket and your favourite stuffed animal. 
“C-Curtis?”
“What’s wrong?” 
“Can I stay with you?” 
Curtis glances at the clock on his nightstand, it’s almost midnight, and those red glowing numbers tell him just how long he’s been glued to his computer and how long your parents have been at that Halloween party. “It’s too late, you should go to bed.” 
“I can’t!” You squeaked, “You can keep playing your game and I’ll be super quiet, it’ll be like I’m not even there.” You beg, shivering as the downstairs darkness stares back at you. 
Your mind goes wild, forming shapes in the black abyss. Monsters with sharp claws and red eyes, or abnormally long limbs and jagged teeth, or a murderer who broke into the house hours ago and has been watching you all night, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. You don’t know if there’s something there—or if you watched too many scary movies tonight. 
Knowing your cowardly nature, it was probably the latter, but you couldn’t shake off that what if… what if there was something down there? 
“Please, please, please!” A shiver crawls up your spine and the darkness wraps around you, almost bringing tears to your eyes, “Curtis, please!” 
“Dude—what’s the wait up?” 
Curtis fixes his headset, his wrist cramping from being in this position for so long. “My sister wants to stay in my room.”
A series of sounds echo through his headphones, varying from disappointment, interest, and sympathy. He could name what noise came from which friend, simply because he knows how each of them feels about you. 
You weren’t a spoiled brat or a bitchy devil who turned his life upside down, you were far from that. You were sweet, too gentle and kind to survive by yourself. Clinging to his hands and clothes with your gentle touch and irresistible warmth, like sticky honey. Honey that rotted his teeth and only made him hungrier. 
Your naivety has led you to his bedroom many times, from asking him about things you’ve heard on campus—“what is teabagging?” When those words left your innocent mouth, Curtis choked on his saliva. Thankfully he didn’t have to answer you because it was dinner time. Don’t ask, don’t ask, Curtis repeated in his head while everyone was sitting at the dining table, he just knows your parents would find some way to blame him for corrupting you. 
If they only knew how much he was holding back from doing that. 
You were easily scared, so he expected you to be frightened this dark and dreary, rainy Halloween night. It wasn’t the family’s typical celebration, you were grounded after failing a test and Curtis was stuck babysitting you as punishment for a mishap involving a hockey puck and a broken window. 
At least his friends were in the same shit—he wasn’t playing hockey alone—that’s why they’re spending Halloween night playing videos and eating their weight in candy. 
Before your parents left for a party, the decorations were taken down because of the upcoming storm, and your jack lanterns were brought inside. Only a handful of trick-or-treaters came by, so the candy bowl by the front door was still full. Or it was until you started nervously snacking halfway through your scary movie marathon. Your tongue is sore from all of the sour treats. 
Curtis would be surprised that you didn’t sneak out, but he knows you’re too obedient and fearful to be that bold. Him, on the other hand, you had to cover for him whenever he left in the middle of the night for a party. There was surely an advantage to having a sweet stepsister, he had someone to back him up, or save him from difficult situations. You even let him hide his weed in your bedroom since your parents routinely checked his room after a neighbour caught him smoking in the park and practically dragged him home by his ear. 
And the neighbourhood still doesn’t know who egged her house last week—Curtis had the greatest friends in the fucking world. 
“—she can’t be that bad.”
“Huh?”
“Your sister, you should let her join our game.”
Steve groans. “Ugh, Buck, you just have a crush on her.” 
“No, I don’t!” 
“Is that why you sent her those love letters a few weeks ago?” 
His gaze locks on Bucky’s character as if that was really him and he could feel Curtis’ glare through the screen. “That was you?” 
Bucky makes an offended noise. “Thanks a lot, Steve!” He hisses, “Okay, maybe I do like her, but I wouldn’t try anything, she’s your sister.”
“And he’d probably kick your ass.” 
“That too.” 
“Nah, but he’s right. She’s probably dying of boredom being trapped in that house.” 
Curtis gnaws on his lip, staring at the glowing monitor displaying their stats from the last game. It’s steadily gotten better and he isn’t sure if he wants you to ruin that streak. Plus, you didn’t even like his games, you much preferred using his PC (that he built himself) for the Sims. He thought it was cute that you made a virtual version of him and put the two of you in a big purple and blue house with a dog and a cat.
“We could pick an easier map so she isn’t completely lost.”
Curtis exhales, “Let me think about it.”
“Uhm… okay.” You lean on his doorway, blinking down at the hardwood floor. “Can I still come in though?” 
“What?” He turns to you, suddenly remembering you standing there. “Oh, not you, honey. You can stay in here—for a bit.” He tags on, he didn’t want you to linger too much. Especially since he was still playing with his friends, at least you wouldn’t hear their endless profanities and arguing. 
You beam and scurry towards the bed, almost tripping over yourself before plopping on the unmade sheets. The mattress jostles and an empty pop can tips over and falls to the ground, joining the mess of the day, from candy wrappers and dirty dishes from when he ordered pizza for dinner. 
You giddily settle into his wrinkled sheets, snuggling under the duvet with your blanket and stuffed Care Bear, Grumpy bear. From here, you see his computer monitors and that war game glowing bright, you’ve watched him play a few times, and were always amazed by his quick reflexes and tactics.
“Tell your friends I say hi!” You wiggle your toes, Curtis’ bed was so comfy and warm. “But that’s it because I’ll be quiet now.” 
“Honey—now don’t get jealous, Bucky, green isn’t your colour.” 
“Shut up!” 
“She says hi.” Curtis runs a hand over his buzzed head, tuning out his idiotic friends. 
Steve whoops, “Tell her Bucky says he loves her.” 
“I live across the street, don’t make me come over and punch your teeth in.”
“Now, now, we all know honey doesn’t like violence. You’ll never marry her with that attitude.” 
“Alright, calm down, fellas.” Andy laughs, “Curtis, are we still playing?” 
He hums, “let’s fuckin’ go.” 
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Curtis doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, but he knows he’s a damn pervert. It’s been an hour since you came in, and Curtis had bid goodbye to his friends before he turned around and saw you sprawled across his bed, your sweater rolled up and exposing your cotton panties and an undeniable wet spot. Spot was an understatement. You were moaning softly and rubbing your thighs together, making the small spot into a full patch that clung to your folds. 
He gulps, clenching and releasing his fists until the heat in his belly dissipates. He busies himself with gathering the dishes, food wrappers and empty cans that litter his bedroom, avoiding your wet, clothed cunt at all costs because if he gets another glance, he’ll fall victim to his desires. 
After doing the dishes, he cleans up after you in the living room, picking up small candy wrappers and fixing the throw pillows and blankets to his mother’s liking. He checks all the doors and windows, peeking out the window at the pouring rain and strong winds. Thunder rumbles loudly as he creeps up the stairs slowly, preparing himself for spending the night next to you—and restraining himself from touching you. 
He places a glass of water on the nightstand closest to you and picks up your stuffed Grumpy Bear. A yelp erupts from his chest when you grab his arm, latching on with a death grip. 
His wide eyes land on you, shockingly awake and breathing heavily, “Honey, what—”
“T-The thunder. I—” You jump as another boom echoes through the sky, you try to tug him into bed, “Curtis! C’mon!” 
He slides under the sheets and immediately, you curl up against him, clutching Grumpy to your chest. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he rubs up and down your back, soothing each tremor rocking through your body. 
This isn’t the first time this happened, you hated storms with passion. From the dark looming clouds, harsh winds and gallons of rain, the cherry on top was the loud thunder and flickering lightning. Back in your hometown, there were terrifying storms that would tear roofs off houses, sweep away anything outside and knock down trees. 
Curtis knew how to deal with you when you got like this, so he distracted you. 
You’re okay, honey. Everything is fine. He repeats over and over again until you stop shaking, he plants a chaste kiss on the top of your head, “Why did you want to come in here?”
It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak, timidly meeting his eyes. “I had a horror movie marathon.” You shyly admit, “and just couldn’t be alone. I was too scared!” 
He didn't have to ask since he heard your screams and squeals from here, even with his headphones on, but hearing it from your lips boosts his ego. You have always run to him when you were scared, confused or both. He was your saviour in more ways than one, and he’s your first choice for comfort and safety. 
“What were you going to wear to the party tonight?”
You slump, remembering your plans with your new friends from college. “We were all gonna be the plastics from Mean Girls! But their Halloween costumes. I was gonna be a mouse.” You pout, “Don’t tell my dad, but I got a little nightie like what she wears in the movie. It’s really short and sheer… you could see almost everything underneath.” 
His eyes fall to your puckered lips, “Oh.” 
“Yeah, I know. I thought those dresses were only for home, not public, but Nat said all the girls dress that way for Halloween.” 
He sometimes forgets you weren’t from the city. Sweet, naive you grew up in a small town before your father married his mother a year ago. He recalls teaching you how to transit everywhere, telling you which trains and buses went where. You were so confused with all the names and routes, you called him every day to ask for directions. 
“Sounds like you’d get cold.” 
“I could show you!” You go to stand but another rumble of thunder has you clambering back into bed, to your safe soft bundle with your stepbrother. “Maybe later actually.”
Curtis laughs, “You a w’ittle sca’wed?” 
You shove him and he’s quick to return it, this time almost knocking you off of the bed. It isn’t long until it turns into a tickle fight, he pins you down and digs his fingers into your sides, straddling your kicking legs as you loudly cackle. You’re no match for his strength and are forced to lie there, laughing till tears are streaming down your face and your throat goes sore. One cough is all it takes for Curtis to release you and hand over the water. 
You gulp heartedly, droplets escape the corners of your lips and trail down your chin to your neck. 
He still feels the warmth of your body against his, so much smaller than him, and crying the prettiest tears and thrashing between helpless pleas for mercy—if he had it his way, you’d be acting the same way with far fewer clothes on. 
Thunder booms and you jump, the water spilling down your chest and legs, soaking straight through your sweater and the sheets below. 
“Ugh! Sorry, Curtis, your bed is a little wet now.” 
He watches the realization hit your face. 
You quickly close your legs, “I didn’t—oh god, I didn’t—I’d never pee in your bed.” Your hand falls between your thighs and your eyes widen, you don’t remember your dream but it must’ve been a dirty one, the kind you’ve only had a handful of times. “I-I have to go change!” You surge up, squeezing your legs together while pulling down the hem of your sweater. 
Embarrassment floods you until it pours out your mouth in stuttering excuses, dutifully ignoring Curtis’ offer to walk you to your bedroom if you’re scared. 
You don’t even grab your stuffie before shuffling out of his room, yanking the sweater over your ass to savour any bit of pride you have left. 
Curtis was seconds away from grabbing you and taking care of your little wet problem. He’d dive headfirst into those sinful delusions and indulge in the pleasure you’re so cluelessly withholding. He rubs over his pants and the wet spot that was more than just water, imagining just how slick you were. He’d bet your arousal was sticking to your panties. 
And now it’s all going to fucking waste. 
When you come back, he’s comfortable under the sheets with a pillow strategically placed over his crotch, but of course, you don’t notice a thing. 
You take shy little steps, your legs never spreading too far until you’re standing at the foot of his bed in a fresh new sweater. 
“This is it.” 
It is a sheer babydoll dress, thin and delicate with a bow at the collar and a frilly hemline. You hold it against your body, swaying cheekily. “Isn’t it cute? Now imagine me with mouse ears, nose and whiskers.”
Curtis gulps, daydreaming about your glowy skin draped in that airy fabric. “Very cute, honey. But I don’t think that’s appropriate at home either.” 
You deflate, “No?”
“Not when our parents are home anyway…” he trails off, “but you can wear it when it’s just us. It’ll be our little secret.” 
You nod eagerly, “I’m good at keeping secrets. I haven’t said a word about you sneaking out—or the weed, and I never will!” 
That’s why he loved you. So positive and enthusiastic, a breath of fresh air in his normal, boring life. He’s so glad he convinced his mother to go on a second date with your father. And to think he just wanted her out of the house so he could throw a party, and now he has unlimited access to the sweetest, prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 
Your gullibility was just a plus, and it’s thanks to that innocence that he’s able to convince you to wear your new nightie to bed. 
“It’s Halloween, you should still wear it even if you aren’t going to a party. That way when you do wear it out, you’ll already have broken it in.” 
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Curtis finds out why you were walking so strangely after you fall asleep again. That demonic little voice wins and convinces him to dip in his twisted curiosity.  
The lamp is on the dimmest setting, barely illuminating, but it’s sufficient in this pitch-black darkness. It’s enough, he repeats in his head, he doesn’t need brighter light or a fucking camera, although he wants to immortalize you from this angle. 
Curtis is lying on his stomach between your legs. The blanket is slightly pushed to the side and your sweater is rolled up. His hands stroke up and down your inner thighs and his eyes are locked on your too-small panties. The cotton cups your core firmly, outlining your slit and deliciously falling victim to your slick just like the last pair. 
You beguiled him, pushing him over the edge and into the dark forbidden depths—from the sheer lingerie to the tiny panties, to fucking grinding against his thigh when he was dead set on not corrupting you tonight. 
Now, look what you did.
You were so needy and wet, he’d be a monster to abandon you in agony. Curtis refused to let this gleaming opportunity fade away, he’s saved you countless times, and another wouldn’t be so bad. He’ll put you out of your misery just like any big stepbrother should. 
He carefully removes the rest of the sheets from your body. From the drift of cool air, you squirm then settle on your back again, legs splayed wide open. The moonlight fuses with the yellow lamplight, bathing you in an exquisite, irresistible flare. It calls to him like a beacon, pulling him by the throat to your most precious spot. 
He mouths against the cotton, soddening the fabric with his saliva. At first, he’s discreet, cautiously licking, as if he isn’t starving for you. Once he’s certain you weren’t waking up, he seeks your clit, the delectable button that has been on his mind all night, and licks it through your panties. 
The minimal light might be enough, but this wasn’t. He tugs the gusset to the side, nosing along your inner thigh as your smell drills into his head. 
“So fuckin’ pretty.” The words are spoken in a whisper, his dark gaze glued on your folds that glimmer with your arousal. You’re so fucking sticky. He can’t resist breaking the string of your slick between your panties and your slit with his tongue, the minuscule taste instantly makes him addicted. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” 
He rubs your clit slowly, just enough to make your breath deepen as you sleep soundly, beautifully unaware. Your nub swells under his touch and your arousal leaks down your cunt to your rosebud. Curtis refuses to let a drop go to waste. 
He groans as your taste floods his mouth, your warmth satisfying every craving he’s ever had, fulfilling every ache while leaving more in its place. The demand for more and more fuels him on, just like your soft snores as wet sucking noises float into the air. With his eyes shut in bliss and he grabs your hips, tugging you closer. 
He’s only fantasized about this. Never daring to commit to corruption. The guilt should be eating him alive right now, remorse should be wrapping around his neck and yanking him away from you—his sweet, innocent, sleeping stepsister. But it doesn’t, if anything, it excites him. The illicit nature and stark boundaries he’s leaping over. 
Your soft whines edge him further, kissing your clit on his way down to your weepy hole. His tongue swirls around before breaching, piercing deep until his nose rubs against your button. He licks into your virgin hole, nuzzling your folds with his prickly beard. 
This is far better than shamefully jerking his throbbing cock with your panties to his nose. 
Your high hits suddenly, catching him off guard when your hips rise and your panties snap back into place, ridding him of the opportunity of watching you come. He can’t say he hates what he’s gifted anyway, your cream gushes out and soaks the cotton. He rushes forward, enveloping your clothed pussy in his mouth and sucking your orgasm through your panties, hearty groans rumbling in his chest. 
He’s so rough and loud that you stir, but that only plunges him into a fervid hunger. Your cunt pulses under his mouth as he cleans you up, greedily taking any drop of your essence like he’ll never have you again. But he will, he knows he will. 
Lewd noises draw you from dreamland into a confusing reality, following the trail of the strange fluttering heat between your thighs. “C-Curtis?” 
He should pull away, he should apologize and beg for forgiveness but Curtis has played nice long enough. 
“These are so thin, I could just—” he rubs his nose along your clothed folds, nudging your swollen clit. “So fuckin’ tight too.” 
You squeak, attempting to shut your legs but he forces them open, mouthing against your core like he’s been wandering the desert for days and you’re a stream of water. 
Shaky breaths tremble your frame, the sheets wrinkled in your fists as his tongue glides down your slit to your untouched hole, “What—what are you doing!” 
“You were rubbing against me, honey.” He’s intoxicated on you yet hyperaware of every tiny movement of your face, reading your reactions effortlessly. “I’m just helping you out, that’s what big brothers do.” 
“Is this okay?” You ask, “A-Are we, can we do this?”
“Yeah, baby. You think I’d lie to you?” He licks his hand and reaches under your sweater, tracing up your warm skin. He pinches your nipple, his saliva making you squirm from the sudden cold. He fondles your tit, switching between both until your rigidness fades away and you quietly moan. 
His attention falls back on your pussy, inches from his face and begging for him. He’s quick to yank off your panties and fully expose your centre to him once more. 
“Are you sure, Curtis?” 
He huffs, “I’m sure. It wouldn’t be very kind of me to leave you here to suffer, now will it?” He traces down your folds, taking pride in the hitch in your breath, “And this feels good, right? So it can’t be bad.” 
You sleepily process his words, “that feels—oh!” You watch as he lightly licks your clit, his tongue is hot and soft, just grazing over your bundle like it was a saccharine treat. 
He hums, closing his lips around it just to make you feel his heat and wanting you to know how good he can make you feel. He pops off tenderly, “It’s sensitive, huh?” He circles the erect nub with his thumb, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be gentle. You trust me, right?”
You shakily exhale, struggling to hold his dark gaze with the unfamiliar tingles darting through your body. “S-So much, Curtis.”
“Don’t call me that.” He kisses your mound, his breath puffing against your warm skin as his eyes lock on your face. The moonlight shines over your features, bathing you in the glow. You look pure, untouched and vulnerable, and Curtis wouldn’t have it any other way. “Say daddy.” 
You stiffen, fisting the sheets with wide eyes. You shake your head but your body has a mind of its own and jerks up, desperate for his touch. 
“Say it, baby.” 
“I can’t—”
He pulls back and swats your cunt, making you gasp sharply. He repeats it again and again, aiming for your most sensitive spot and getting rougher each time. Curtis leans up, spitting on your puffy clit, he should feel bad for torturing your button, but you weren’t obeying him. “Say it, or I’ll get a lot meaner.” 
His saliva smears down your wetness and you squirm, before his hand lands on your belly, pressing you down to the mattress. Uneven breaths shake your frame, and the ceiling fan spins slowly, almost putting you in a trance. “Dad—daddy.” 
“That wasn’t so hard.” He murmurs, peppering kisses along your trembling thighs. His lips ghost your folds before his tongue flattens and licks a firm strip up your slit. “That’s my girl.” 
Now that you’re awake, he could have some real fun. 
He makes out with your pussy, rubbing your petals raw with his facial hair and sending vibrations up your spine with his deep groans. “So wet for me. Grinding on my leg, moaning in my damn ear.” Curtis exhales, “You didn’t even let me sleep, you know that?” 
“I’m sorry!”
“Pardon?”
You mewl as his flat tongue licks up your slit, fucking into your hole. “Da-Daddy! I’m sorry, daddy!” 
You were learning so well. “And calling me daddy, I wonder what your real daddy would think of that.” He lets a heavy dollop of saliva drip from his bottom lip to your swollen clit, “He wouldn’t like that I’m eating his daughter’s virgin cunt, huh?”
You feebly attempt to pull him closer, but with his buzzed hair, the best you can do is push him down. Pitifully whimpering as he teases you, licking everywhere but that one spot. As a last resort, you just force him down and squeeze your thighs around his head. 
Sparks dance on the inside of your eyelids when he takes that spot—that bundle between his lips with open-mouthed kisses, fueling the shocks coursing through your body. You liked this better than when he slapped it. He alternates between locking the throbbing nub in a suffocating kiss—suckle? And dipping down to noisily slurp at your juices. 
This tsunami of impressions and senses brings you to a state of unfamiliar euphoria, a wave crashing within you and releasing an array of passions you’ve never felt before. You mutter nonsense, confused about your body’s response as Curtis works you through it, soothing your pulsating bundle with his skilled tongue and warm mouth. 
Curtis is more robust than you and easily escapes your hold, hooking one arm around your thigh. “You liked that, honey?” A smirk plays on his slick lips, “This is your clit, it’s your special sensitive button,” he blows over it and chuckles mockingly when you whimper, “And I fuckin’ love it.” 
His thumb pulls back the hood, exposing the delicate bud, erect and swollen, begging for his touch. He can’t resist swirling his tongue over it, your moans music to his ears. 
He leans back with the bundle between his lips, pulling lightly before releasing it. A string of spit connects his lips to your core, his saliva coats you and combined with the cream leaking out of your fuckhole, you look like a feast. “So pretty and tasty. So fuckin’ messy.” He groans, “You’ve been keeping this from me, baby?”
You can only blink at him and squeak when he tongues over the exposed nerves. You feel every bump of his wet muscle and his hot breath on your skin, the sensations have your back arching high with unsteady moans. 
“What a bad girl, you know how unfair that is? I give you so much, I keep you safe, I’m so nice to you, and you keep this pretty pussy from me.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down. 
“I’m sorry, daddy…” You barely manage and entwine your fingers with his, “didn’t mean t-to!” 
“You didn’t?” He repeats, lazily mouthing at the crease between your thigh and warm cunt, his blue eyes locked on your face covered in a sheen of sweat, “but you still hurt me, baby, you made me so upset.” 
“I’m sorry!” You yelp when his palm collides with your inner thigh in quick succession, getting awfully close to your centre. “I’m sorry, Curtis!” You apologize again, “Please don’t hit m-my button—” 
“—You know what would make me feel better?” 
You shake your head, dread sinking deep as he traces down your core, from your puffy clit to your rosebud. He circles the rim, smearing your leaky excitement. 
“If you let me play with you.” He lightly spanks your cunt, wet noises flooding the room alongside your choked squeals, “are you gonna let your big brother play with your pussy to feel better?” He doesn’t relent, nor give you the chance to respond, he only slips his fingers down your slit to collect your stickiness and smear it back over your stimulated cunt, paying extra attention to his favourite part. “And you’re making a mess on my bed, dummy. You have a lot to make up for.” 
Shuddering from wild nerves and unfamiliar sensations, you give in. He was right, he does so much for you without being asked, he’s your hero in every sense. “You can, uhm… play with me, daddy.”
A bright smile appears on his wet lips, and you’re too blinded by his radiance to notice the rotten roots of his happiness, the utter wrongness of it all. You’d follow recklessly on whatever path he makes, trailing after him like a lost puppy without any thought. 
“That’s my good girl—my best girl, actually.” He rewards you with several sweet kisses, pushing up your sweater to give your tummy some love, he trails up higher until your sweater is above your breasts. 
You rise towards his comforting touch, biting your bottom lip as he lightly tugs and twists your nipple. He massages your tit, squeezing it gently in his fist while swirling his tongue over your hard nipple. “Have you ever been kissed?”
Your heart thumps loudly, almost muting his low voice. “N-No.” 
Curtis cocks his head, blue eyes gleaming fondly, “I’ll make it special for you, honey, but no one can know. I’ll take you out, treat you real nice, and make it like one of those cheesy movies you love so much.”
“Will you?”
“I’ll do anything for you.” He speaks with so much conviction you don’t care about keeping it a secret, a part of you knew how wrong this was, but you’d give up everything before giving up Curtis. 
Your hands fall to the back of his neck as you go slack onto the pillows, his chain is cold against your palm, a stark contrast to his heated skin. 
“I love you so much, baby.” He kisses down your body until he’s snug between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit, “and Daddy loves you too, pretty button.”
Your face heats up hotter than the sun as burning desire prickles at your skin, he’s gazing lovingly at your most private spot, and talking to it. That only makes you want him more.  
“You like when I play with your button, baby?” Curtis asks, speeding up and adding pressure, “You’ve never felt this way before, huh?”
Your eyes water out of pure want and overwhelming pleasure. Your previous highs give you tunnel vision, putting your senses in overdrive. Everything feels unbearably stronger, even his breath on your throbbing centre. “N-No.” 
“Never even touched yourself?”
“I’ve had dreams—and woke up sticky, but no.” Even though you can’t remember any of those dreams, you know they’re nothing like this. The heat, desire and pure debauchery are new territories for you, those dirty dreams were just messy blurs but now Curtis is the one to make you feel all those things. 
He growls, growing harder at the fact of being the first to taste you and to touch you like this. “You want my mouth on your clit again?” He asks lowly. “You want daddy to suck and lick your pretty, puffy clit, honey?”
“Y-Yes, but please be gentle… it’s really tingly.” 
His tongue swipes over his lips, “But I think she wants me to be rough.” He pulls back the hood, spitting down, “she wants me to be mean. That’s why she’s all tingly.”
“Re—” You’re cut off by a whine when he licks the exposed nerves, “Really?”
“Really.” He echos, “your body wants to be ruined, used and stretched around me. This ass and soaked cunt want to be pumped full of my cum, and this fuckin’ clit—she wants me to make you cry ‘cause it feels too good.” His mouth waters as you swell up before his eyes, the smallest stimulation makes your sore button fill with blood, “But that’s a good kind of cryin’ for a good kind of hurt.”
He laps over your petals before latching onto your clit, suckling harshly while his thumb circles your virgin hole. He digs deeper until his facial hair rubs into you, coarse and prickly against your delicate folds. You whimper, caught between grinding against his face and crawling away, bouncing between pain and pleasure. 
He pulls back with a deep breath, he could suffocate himself with you and it’d be a joyous end. “Doesn’t it feel good when I’m mean? When I just bully your cunt like I hate it?” When you don’t respond, he glances up to see that lost glazed over your eyes and the stupidest look on your face. 
Peaceful is what he’d call it, peacefully divine—but he doesn’t want you peaceful, he wants you ruined and crying, weeping his name like a prayer, he wants you to plead for salvation, a fucking break, just so he can say no. 
“Don’t you like it when I do this?” A harsh slap lands on your clit, making your legs flail before he hooks them over his broad shoulders. Prying you open for his ruthless touch, he spits on his thumb then harshly rubs your bundle. “Or when I do this?” He pinches your button meanly and rolls it between his fingers. “Dumb little sister, you like when your big brother is a damn bully, huh?”
“Yes, I do!” You mewl, unable to lie still as the elastic in your belly tightens painfully, stretching you so thin you could shatter with a breeze. “I-I do, I love it so much, da–ddy!” 
You’re so pretty when you cry. 
“That’s right, you just gotta remember that daddy always knows best.” He dives forward and messily tongues at your creamy hole, eagerly swiping up any juices you have to offer. “Wanna know a secret?” He suckles, pressing deep between your folds and shaking his head, burning your sore skin with his beard. “The puffier it is, the better it tastes.” 
He thrusts his tongue in your hole while rubbing your clit, the bottom half of his face is a mess. Your previous orgasms and his spit coating his beard and down his chin, your cream collecting around his swollen lips. You aren’t any better, hot tears streaming down your face and drool seeping out of the corner of your lips dumbly. 
You can barely think—your mind is flooded with him, his smell, his soft bed under you, and his touch. 
“Have you ever squirted before?” He asks, but all you can utter are incoherent words, he takes the benefit of the doubt and settles on a squeaky pathetic no. “Fuck, are you gonna make a stupid mess on daddy’s bed, dumb baby? Gonna get me all dirty, fuckin’ soak me with juices from this virgin cunt?”
You make confused noises, stuttering out his name between heaving breaths as the wave builds and builds, threatening to crash over and flood you from the inside out. 
Curtis grins madly, eating up every one of your helpless mewls, bullying your sensitive nerves with his thumb as if you’re his damn controller. “It’s okay, honey, your body is gonna thank me for being so mean.” 
You squeal so loudly that your voice cracks, breaking off into mindless babbles as you squirt, your orgasm shooting out into Curtis’ awaiting mouth. His torturous touch on your swollen bundle never yields and only gets more intense. 
You’re caught between horrified and amazed as Curtis ferociously sucks your burning clit, prolonging your orgasm until you try to get away. He pulls you back and secures your quivering thighs around his head. He’s merciless and dives forward, roughly tonguing your pulsating bundle until much weaker, final spurts escape your body. 
He doesn’t stop until you’re a quivering mess, covered in your arousal, sweat and his saliva. Even then, he spits down on your thoroughly ruined pussy with your juices that still filled his mouth. He meets your watery gaze, flashing you a wide smile. “You okay, honey?”
“That—Is that it?”
“It doesn’t have to be.” He raises to his knees, your juices shining in his beard and around his lips. “But I don’t want you to get overwhelmed, I know that was a lot.” And he didn’t even kiss you yet. 
“But you… doesn’t that hurt?” You blink down at his hard bulge, your legs still spread wide with your wetness seeping into his bedsheets. “I don’t want you to hurt.”
“So fuckin’ sweet.” He exhales, cupping your cheek. “You can watch me, okay?” He tugs down his sweatpants and boxers with one swoop, and his cock smacks into his lower abs, flushed an angry red and leaking pre cum from the mushroom tip and down the prominent veins. “Just spread your legs and keep looking at me.” 
You subconsciously lick your lips, spreading your legs wide as he crawls forward on his knees, squeezing his thick base.
“Good girl, why don’t you spread your pretty pussy for me too?” His jaw tightens under his beard, eyes bouncing between your dazed face and your ruined clit, “show daddy your puffy button so I can come on it.” 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ehem... a very special eun @comfortcap made me this way with button play. I'm also very tempted to make a part two. But i already have a full series with stepbro!ari coming [fraternal instincts] BUT CURTISSS😖🫶
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check my kinktober masterlist for the rest of my fics
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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jtl-fics · 8 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 36
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The Smiths had been a happy family.
A happy couple and three happy healthy children. Their first born son 2 years into a blissful marriage, a second born son 4 years in and the third, a first born daughter 7 years in.
They spent most holidays with his Mother’s large rambunctious family but his grandma on his father’s side and her mother were always invited to any family event.
“The more the merrier.” He had heard more than one aunt or uncle say. “We know that Gavin is an only child, we don’t want to leave you alone.” They would say to his Gran. Cousins playing, laughing, rough housing, and screaming. Family friends with their own kids stopping in. The adults who could cook cranking food out happy to feed people.
The more the merrier is something FF believed with all his heart.
FF loved being an older brother.
He loved them from the moment he knew they existed. Had wanted to meet them instantly. Waiting to meet Jay and then Robin had been the longest time of his life. Meeting both of them were two of the happiest moments in FF’s entire life.
Robin had loved to reach up and pinch at his face.
Nose, ears, or even cheeks his little sister had loved to clamp her fingers around it. He used to talk when she’d do it on his nose, purposefully sounding more nasally as he talked to her as she giggled wildly. It was her favorite game in the entire world and FF had always been willing to play it with her.
Jay fell asleep against his shoulders without fail on every single car ride.
Slight weight, drool, and tiny hands that always wanted to hold his arm like a pillow. He was getting big had denied that he did that with pure horror every time FF would ask him if he was going to take a nap. Yet FF very rarely made it to a far off destination without a little bit of drool on an outfit. FF had never cared, trying not to laugh too hard with Robin as she giggled so that he wouldn’t dislodge Jay.
His gran would pinch his cheek and tell him how good he was.
A good older brother.
The happy couple wanted more kids. Wanted a bigger and bigger family. His mom wanted what she knew, his dad wanted what he never had, FF wanted more siblings.
He always felt like he had gotten his wish, but only in the worst way he could have.
His mom and dad were fighting. They were driving home from the supermarket; he vaguely remembers that. He doesn’t remember what started the fight but he remembers how Jay and Robin moved in close to him. She was pointing at him and FF doesn’t remember what she said but he remembers her hands reaching and then-
His face hurt, his ear hurt, he looked over and Jay was asleep just like he always was but he doesn’t look right. He looks and Robin is there reaching for him but she can’t reach him. “I’m scared.” She had said his name, pleading and terrified. Her face was bruised, cut, and she had a burn that looked painful.
He lied to her.
He didn’t know it at the time, but he did.
He reached out and he couldn’t touch her face, but he held her tiny hand in his own, looked her in the eyes, and lied.
“It’s going to be okay; I promise.”
Then he woke up and that hand wasn’t the one in his anymore. The world is muted but somehow his grandma’s red eyes and pale skin stand out to him. He asks what happened and she tells him.
Things don’t get better.
His mom swears his dad tried to kill them all that he swerved so they’d all die together. He can’t corroborate that story; he just remembers her hand reaching and-
How do you ask your mom if she tried to kill you?
She must see the question in his eyes regardless. Must figure that if he can’t feel anything, can’t cry, can’t emote, can’t go and lay between his sibling’s graves in the middle of the night then maybe he’ll never ask the question and she’ll never have to answer.
He learned to live not knowing and maybe his mom learned that he was a coward.
His mom’s family don’t treat him the same. He won’t denounce his father and they look at him with pity and Daniel whispers poison into his cousins’ ears until they act like he killed Robin and Jay personally.
He can’t react.
Can’t plead with his cousins to understand.
Daniel would spin it and FF would find himself on the meds again. So, he got good at pretending. He got good at faking. He got good at everything that was needed to pretend like he didn’t have a care.
Then Coach Wymack and Captain Dan Wilds were there.
He’d been getting better.
Now Daniel was here.
Nicky tucked him into bed and he tried to sleep. Even feigned it well enough for Nicky to leave and to get startled by the shouting that shortly followed.
Daniel was going to stay.
Daniel was going to try to be on the same team.
Daniel was smart, strong, and very athletic.
Daniel was going to be on the same team.
He hears when Abby and his Gran come back, and someone must have mentioned that Daniel was there to his Grandma because she comes in and tells him that it will be okay. He puts on a brave face for her, and she kisses his cheek.
He lays there in bed and stares at the ceiling feel flushed and hot with anxiety.
He gets up and walks to the fridge and finds himself frozen there.
“Smith,” Bee’s voice rings in his ears as he had tried to keep pushing everything down. “Smith, there is only so much you can bottle up and repress.” She reached out and held his hand comfortingly because touch always made him feel like he was on earth.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” he had asked, ashamed.
“Smith, you’ll have to process it. Feel what you repressed and then after you’ve felt it maybe you can let it go.” Bee had said.
He had avoided taking her advice so far, it hadn’t felt safe, and it had been too much, too scary.
Nicky’s face comes into his vision, “Smithy?” he asks and there is concern that FF hadn’t felt worthy of. “C’mon bud. Let’s get you under the covers.” His friend says.
They get to the guest room and FF crumbles. His face in Nicky’s shoulder and when Nicky asks if he can hold him while he sleeps FF nods and holds on as tight as he can. Nicky’s hand finds his back, “It’s okay Smithy, I’m right here. We won’t let that asshole mess with you. You’re safe.” Nicky had promised and-
and it’s enough.
He relaxes against Nicky and he feels safe.
So, he decides to process it.
“Dig in!” Abby said not bothering with grace. It was good. FF still missed his grandma’s cooking. It was nice to have this loud Thanksgiving like he used to get but there was something special about helping his grandma in the kitchen and the two of them sitting down to eat. He missed events with his mom’s family. Loud and boisterous and his Gran welcomed and loved by everyone there. It was special to have his time with his grandma, but he wishes it could be with his cousins and his siblings still.
It’s okay to be nostalgic.
He lets himself process it.
Captain Neil was up front and had started  to play some music. Nicky and Aaron were conked out before they had even reached the entrance to the interstate. They had also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder as Nicky drooled into his hair. “You can just shove them off.” Andrew said. “It’s fine.” FF said and had reminisced about the last time he’d had something like this. How maybe Jay would be this big, would he be tall like Nicky or shorter like Aaron? Would Robin be big? Would she still want to squeeze his nose and ask him to talk?
It wasn’t a bad thought, just one that hurt to consider.
He lets himself process it.
Aaron looked at him with a twisted mouth for a while before he relented, “Fine they’re not that bad. It’s a big brother thing.” Aaron rolled his eyes. FF swallowed down some acid in his throat and had pushed the smiling eggs and bacon over to Aaron who smiled back at the breakfast and proceeded to eat it. A big brother thing. FF used to be one of those but, unlike Aaron, he hadn’t managed to protect his siblings. Aaron was a good big brother and FF only had the memory of being one.
It hurt and maybe it wasn’t just his great grandma he had reached out to when he had baked those brownies. They had always always been Jay’s favorite.
Two kids hadn’t moved as the rest of the world continued to. He watched as they clung to one another, and no one seemed to take notice of them. He didn’t understand how anyone could mess them with the bright orange children’s jerseys they had on. One sporting 01 – Josten and the other 10 – Josten on the backs. He had said something to Nicky and then he was squatted down in front of them. A big brother and a little sister with a burn. He’s glad to see them off safely. Glad they’re safe and that Millie is smiling at him like he hung the stars because he got her an autograph from Captain Neil. Glad to watch Brandon be lifted up by his father. He hopes they get home safe.
They didn’t even look that much like Jay and Robin but it had made him happy.
There were other moments, small moments that had hurt that he bottled up but those didn’t take much time to process though.
He finishes processing and lets himself come back to the present.
Something tastes good in his mouth.
“…put the knife away!!” he hears Nicky yelling and looks up to find that Nicky is hiding behind Matt Boyd in Abby’s backyard.
“Just tell me where my car is Nicholas!” Andrew says advancing on Nicky with a knife drawn.
“Can we not do this with me in the middle?” Matt pleads.
“He won’t stab you so you’re the safest thing to hide behind!” Nicky exclaims.
“Where. Is. My. Car?” Andrew hisses.
“Look, I’m just saying that until that asshole is off the campus….maybe it’s for the best that you don’t have access to your car?” Nicky asks pleadingly.
“What the fuck is he drinking?!” He turns as he hears Kevin nearby.
“Milkshake, it’s fine. Doesn’t Smiths deserve something that is not one of your dogshit smoothies?” Aaron asks and he’s standing between Kevin and FF. He sees one of Kevin’s smoothies in the starting striker’s hands.
“It’s not fine!” Kevin hisses. “I didn’t approve of it!” he flails one arm.
“Kevin,  you’re not actually his doctor.” Captain Neil says, “Andrew, maybe put the knife away before people call the cops on you?” Captain Neil asks pleadingly.
“I’ll put it away once Nicky tells me where he put my car.” Andrew demands.
“We just barely avoided you going to jail a couple weeks ago Andrew. I just don’t want you to do something that would result in you being there on vehicular manslaughter charges!” Nicky pled from behind Matt.
“I wouldn’t crash the Maserati just to kill him.” Andrew is facing towards them, and FF can see him roll his eyes.
“I think they’re more worried that you’ll just run him over if you see him dude.” Matt says.
FF realizes belatedly that he’s sucking on a straw to an empty milkshake only when a wrinkled hand takes it from him and puts a hot drink in his hands instead. He looks and sees his grandma smiling at him.
He looks down and-
Oh, hot chocolate. This is nice.
He takes a sip.
Oh, his grandma’s hot chocolate.
Delightful.
He watches as his Grandma makes her way towards where Andrew and Nicky were continuing to run around a resigned looking Matt.
Andrew is stopped as his Grandma hands him a cup of hot chocolate filled to the brim with marshmallows. He blinks at the offering but takes it stopping his hot pursuit of Nicky.
“Jesteś moim ulubieńcem” she says. (“You’re my favorite now.”)
Nicky makes a noise like he’s dying. “Aras!” he cries dramatically.
“Got something to say about the drink from his Gran?” Aaron asks.
“No…” Kevin says petulantly. “…but he should leave room. I formulated a new healthier smoothie that tastes good.” Kevin says holding up his smoothie.
“Doesn’t taste like ass is more accurate.” Matt says walking over now that Nicky was immobilized by his despair and Andrew was enjoying hot chocolate. “Sorry Smithster, we’re still working on getting it up to ‘tastes good’.” He says apologetically clapping FF on the shoulder.
“Fat chance of that with Kevin’s sensibilities with flavor.” Aaron says rolling his eyes. “More accurate to say lack of sensibility.” He adds after a second.
“Don’t be rude, you ran off without even warning me.” Matt points at Aaron.
"You ran off?!" Kevin demands.
FF can’t help it.
He laughs.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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loki-ioki · 4 months
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Give it up for the Twin Champions of Sinnoh!
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threedaycharter · 10 months
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something about those s1 aus where five is actually 13 and viktor being his older brother and then them being brothers stops the apocalypse
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flamboyant-king · 7 months
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King back at it again with yassifiying indie game characters! *backflips into a running washer*
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descendant-of-truth · 2 years
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Consider: Sans shows up to Snowdin from another world along with Papyrus, but soon realizes that this isn't his Papyrus; it's the one from this new dimension. He eventually assumes that the Sans of this world must be dead, so he continues playing along as "Papyrus's brother" for his sake.
HOWEVER. Papyrus is going through the EXACT SAME THING. He's from a THIRD PLACE. So now we have two skeletons thinking that they're going undercover in this household
They're both so concerned about being "believable" as their counterpart but it doesn't matter because every time they display a trait that the original didn't have, the other just goes "well maybe that's normal for him in this universe" and doesn't question it
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socksandbuttons · 7 months
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Question, is Bean Bloodmoon even allowed near the kids inside the daycare?
So far it seems:
Bean Lunar is adorable...
Bean Eclipse is a menace...
Bean Bloodmoon is a whopping Holy #@$&
You know you pose a good question. Something tells me he's probably not allowed in the daycare when its OPEN. Just a safety precaution, more or less. Sun would like it if he wasn't at all but also I wanna take these two. and Make them unlikely friends. But later maybe. Please do NOT have Eclipse and Bloodmoon at the same time in the daycare while its open. It's not good for anyone. Killcode learns the hard way.
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hotmessmaxpress · 1 month
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Hello!
If Marc were to ever get pregnant in the omegaverse, how would that impact his abandonment issues regarding Vale? Since a whole child is the most certain way of actually never ever separating (forever bound by the antichrist child of motorcycles racing).
Also how do the pack dynamics change?
🎤
(your writing is absolutely delightful and as addictive as crack cocaine, got me hooked and following you)
okay so this is hard to answer because there are sooo many good rosquez baby au's. (@its-always-silly-season has a rosquez baby au that lives rent-free in my head, @shooters4yuki has Baby Boots and Riding Suits where Vale is the mother-- an absolute must-read) Also as a child of divorce I must say a child does not prevent two insane people from separating lmaoooo
I think that in this specific au marc being pregnant would give him some amount of anxiety. It's the totally irrational feeling of 'now that vale will have a baby what if he doesn't need me anymore? what happens when I'm not the center of attention?' which is actually a super normal fear with new parents on both sides!!
On the other hand the pack and vale are so so insanely supportive. vale has never been more in love with marc and he has more than enough love for marc and their baby. Vale will not shut up about marc being pregnant and how he's going to be a dad and how he got marc pregnant (*pervy old man eyebrow wiggle*) and how hot marc looks pregnant. Vale is one of those guys. If it wasn't so adorable and exciting for everyone then it would be sort of gross.
The pack are out of their minds supportive. Bezz is the one who maybe has the most emotional crisis about it because he's the other omega and suddenly he's learning about how much marc and vale are happy about his pregnancy and marc is glowing and bezz is like "well fuck who is gonna knock me up now??? I want one". (obviously Bezz is still racing and isn't mated yet so getting pregnant is still pretty far off for him but that doesn't mean he doesn't start fantasizing just a little).
The pack are fully preparing to spoil this baby. They love her before she's even born (I love girl dad vale so I have decided they have a girl). She's going to have so many uncles ready to spoil the fuck out of her and take her on rides and generally endanger her life in cute and lovable ways.
Even with marc's anxiety it's sort of hard for him to ignore the support of his pack and his mate and his family throughout the pregnancy. By the time he has the baby he's sort of chilled out about his feeling of being replaced and he's soooo happy to have their itty bitty little baby that he doesn't even know what to do with himself. He loves getting to see vale be a dad and see the rest of the pack step up and help out.
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trivia-yandere · 11 months
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paid in full
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"all debts must be paid in full." says jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired. masterlist | @darkuni63 @momnomnom writer: lyse word count: 10.116 warning: step-siblings, smut, blackmail, kissing (f on f), nipple sucking, wet dreams, alcohol intake, intake, kissing (m on f), fingering, dirty talking, praising, squirting,
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“Sit straight.” your mother hisses quietly to you but her smile never falters. “They’ll be here any minute.”
You do as you’re told quietly, seething in your seat. You feel uncomfortable in the dress you were forced into by your mother and your feet are killing you - also thanks to your dear mother.
Your mother - back a few months ago - had met a man. You were less than surprised by that fact. Your mother has never not been single throughout your life. She assured whatever she or you needed that a man would be the one providing it. Boyfriend #19 had taken you to a father-daughter dance before she left him for the next.
Your father was once in the picture, but was later chased off by your mother; her claiming that neither of you needed a man with less income than her. It was laughable - because her income was never her own.
Now, the two of you are seated in a lavish restaurant with high ceilings equipped with chandeliers and classical music. Your mother is now going to introduce you to one of her latest catches - a man named Joon-sik. You rarely remember the names of such men, you would rather categorize them by Boyfriend, Fiance and Husband and whatever number they were. Your mother was married only twice, both marriages ending after a year. She was engaged a handful of times and the boyfriends were endless - and you counted the ones after you were born.
“He’s here.” your mothers tone is one of excitement and nervousness. “Stand up.”
You’re robotic. Your eyes scan whoever was strolling towards the two of you - and you’re left confused. A man is walking towards the pair of you, a light smile on his lips. He fits the part - elegant suit tailored to his size, dress shoes that you’re sure you can see your reflection on and light jewelry but not enough to be flashy. 
“Who is that behind him?”  you murmur the question to your mother and she only giggles in response, waving at the man.
“His son.”
Your throat goes dry when both men approach closer. Joon-sik’s son is tall, even taller than him. He stands out in this environment. Tight fitted black shirt with light blue jeans. Hi. His compact boots stood out just as the rest of his appearance did. Your initial thought was that he wore an undershirt with graphic sleeves, but as they came closer to your table, you realized that it was a sleeve of tattoos. 
You gulp at the sight of the taller boy - man, because a boy could never look like him. His hair appeared soft; black and wavy. Was that a lip piercing?
“Joon-sik.” your mother cannot contain her excitement when he reaches the table. She rounds it and engulfs him into a hug, but you don’t watch. It’s difficult to remove your eyes from the unnamed man behind Joon-sik.
“This is my daughter.” your ears hear your mother say and finally you’re released from your trance. 
Your reactions are robotic once more. You’ve been through this countless times. You smile at the man and bow slightly. 
“This,” the man turns slightly to his son. He ushers him closer. “Is my son Jungkook.” he introduces proudly. 
Jungkook offers a smile and you feel hot. His teeth are straight and pearly white and his lips appear gloss-like - not a crack in sight.
Your mother appears happy. You’re unsure if it’s genuine or if Joon-sik has a large enough bank account and will that causes her to smile. Nonetheless, Joon-sik is seemingly a nice man. He’s speaking with the two of you normally, asking you questions about your life - even if your mother does answer for you.
Jungkook doesn’t speak much but the relationship with his father was pure. His father speaks of his achievements proudly and you feel envious. It was obvious that Jungkook was not forced to be someone he wasn’t - forced into fancy clothes like you and to “sit politely” or “engage in the conversation”. 
“Y/N-ah.” Joon-sik speaks. “I heard you’re applying to several universities.”
You nod your head while sipping your water. 
“She applied late.” your mother sighs. “She wished to take a break after high school.”
You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your mother didn’t approve of the couple of years you took off to focus on yourself and gain work experience. But of course, this is a woman that hasn’t worked in years and opted in having others pay for whatever was needed. 
“Jungkook had, as well.” Joon-sik smiles at you. “He’s actually going in the next few months.”
You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you. Panicked, you looked away.
“Oh!” your mother clasps her hands together. “You should apply to the same one.”
“It’s an amazing art institution.” Joon-sik nods. “Jungkook is into photography mostly, but he also dabbles in dancing from time to time. Paintertry, videography.”
You’re impressed and allow your eyes to glance at Jungkook. You wouldn’t take him for a man that dances, but you don’t wish to judge a book by its cover..
Jungkook chuckles lowly, a soft tint on his cheeks.
“That’s amazing.” your mother compliments and you want to scoff. She told you from her own mouth that pursuing art was a waste of time - but that couldn’t be said to the man she was pursuing. 
“What are you into, Y/N-ah?” Joon-sik asks you.
“Y/N also into…art.” your mother giggles and gently taps your thigh. She doesn’t know what type of art, she hasn’t bothered to ask or appear interested. 
You nod your head and your ears pick up on light chuckling.
You feel your body grow hot with embarrassment. Was he laughing at you?
“I see.” Joon-sik's smile doesn’t falter. “If you’d like,” he glances between you and Jungkook. “You can go to the same institution. I know people and getting you in wouldn’t be an issue.”
Your eyes widen and you turn to your mother. She slightly nods her head and you return your eyes to Joon-sik. “That would be amazing.” you respond.
Jungkook takes a sip of his drink and hums lowly to himself. His eyes flicker between you and your mother and he’s positive that you were nothing but a puppet and had been since your childhood; possibly even birth. You hadn’t had the chance to speak until now with permission.
“Now that introductions are out of the way.” Joon-sik raises his glass - a wine glass that had gone untouched since a server had poured it. “We have to tell the two of you something.”
You swallow.
Joon-sik grasps your mothers hands. “We’re getting married.”
You weren’t shocked at the news, but Jungkook stiffens visibly.
“And we’re moving in together!” your mother squeals.
That was new in a way. The men your mother dealt with never had children, and if they did you never met them. You moved from house to condo, apartment back to house throughout your life. But never with a “sibling” figure.
“That’s kind of fast.” 
Jungkook’s voice is deep, but not shockingly so.
“It is.” Joon-sik agrees. “But I’m not as young as you, son. When you find the one…” he nods at your mother. “...you do what it takes to keep her.”
You’re uncertain how Jungkook feels. This wasn’t new to you. You dealt with your mothers shenanigans your entire life. However, you’re unsure how Jungkook spent his life. Was his mother involved unlike your father? Did Joon-sik have countless girlfriends, fiance’s and wives?
Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently. 
“Y/N begged me for a sibling once upon a time.” your mother giggles. “Now you have a brother!”
You’re embarrassed once more but you don’t allow yourself to say anything.
Jungkook connects his eyes to yours. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, it’s pink and wet and you’re disturbed that you’re even watching it coat his lips.
“Step-brother.” Jungkook comments low and you’re positive it’s more to you than to your mother’s comment.
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The large estate Jungkook and Joon-sik called home was massive and the biggest you’ve ever seen; and you’re seen a lot.
By the following month your mother and you had moved into the estate and called it your home. 
The estate was so large that you rarely saw your mother - she and Joon-sik occupied the right side of the estate while you and Jungkook occupied the left. The two of you shared a kitchen and dining area, a large sitting area and you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom connected to your room. It was as if you had your own apartment away from your mother.
Your eyes follow the amount of cereal options displayed and hum. You were hungry and wanted nothing but a quick and light snack - you decided on cereal.
You decided on a box of marshmallow cereal. You grasp the box and pry it open, licking your lips with anticipation. 
You’ve come to realize that everything in the estate was fit for a tall man such as Jungkook. The bowls are inside of a cabinet high up. You always need to climb the counter just to get it, which is what you do. Your knees are planted onto the cold marble counter tops and your hand reaches for the bowl when another one shoots out and grabs the same bowl you were reaching for.
You yelp in surprise, body turning until you’re seated on said countertop.
Jungkook stands behind you, dangerously close. He holds the bowl in his hands, eyes watching your face for a reaction. 
You swallow.
“Good girl.”
You feel hot at his words, but you shake your head. “W-what?”
“Your nickname.” Jungkook mumbles. “Good girl suits you.”
Jungkook places the bowl beside you on the counter, but he doesn’t step away from you.
You open your mouth to speak, but you cannot release any response.
“You’ve been here for a month now and you do nothing but stay home.” Jungkook continues. He comes even closer and now, he’s directly between your legs. “You allow your mother to speak for you constantly. Even as an adult, you listen to her commands.”
You’re taken aback. Was Jungkook…reading you? He had met you a month ago at dinner and since then, had clocked everything that has happened in your life - and he kept it to himself until now.
“You’re a good girl that does what she’s told.”
Your eyes stare into Jungkook’s, neither eyes blinking. His words replay in your mind nonstop.
“Cat’s got your tongue?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Or do you need permission to speak?”
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond to your question.
“It’s easy for you to say.” you quip. “Your father lets you do whatever you want.”
Jungkook furrows a brow.
“You don’t have expectations to live up to.” you continue.
“Good girls talking back now.” Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. “Have you ever done anything she didn’t like?”
You don’t respond but instead ponder on his question. 
No, you haven’t. Your mother was strict when it came to her rules and you’ve done your best to always obey them.
“That’s a no.” Jungkook snorts. “There’s a party tonight.”
You raise your brows at his words.
“At a college that a friend of mine attends. You should come.”
You have never been to a party like that. You’ve gone to birthday celebrations and business gatherings with your mother - to mingle, she says - but never to a college party. 
Jungkook watches your face twist and contort in confusion. You were struggling and now he understands this is probably your first real party - not something your mother would be there for. 
“Or do you need mother’s permission?” Jungkook teases.
You gulp, feeling your cheeks redden. He was teasing you and you didn’t like it.
“I don’t…have a way there.” you attempted to turn down his invitation. 
“You can come with me.” Jungkook shrugs. “I want to introduce you to a few friends.”
Seems like you need them, Jungkook wants to say, but he keeps it to himself. He never met anyone so sheltered before. Sure, he heard a mouth full from his father that he needed to become more “brotherly” towards you, but that didn’t mean his intentions were counterfeit. 
“Would there be…” your words trail off and Jungkook waits for you to continue. “...drugs?”
Jungkook is silent at your question, but at your serious face and large curious eyes, he cackles.
“W-what’s funny?”
“You watch too much TV.” Jungkook laughs. “I don’t take drugs…but if you-”
“No!” you hiss with a head shake. “I don’t-”
“Relax.” Jungkook places his hands on your thighs - you're soft, he notes, bare thighs sitting against the counter. “No drugs. Alcohol and weed, yes. But there's water and other refreshments.”
You nod your head. You were skeptical of agreeing to this party. You and his friends had to be different and you were more than positive that Jungkook pitied you more than anything. But, this would possibly be your chance at a real college party. With drunk party goers and dancing with loud music - maybe even the police would come and shut it down because of how intense it would be. 
“No.” your mother scoffs and walks around you. “We don’t do college parties.” she shakes her head once more. “How would that benefit you?”
You had gained enough courage to ask your mother for permission to go to a party. Jungkook had insisted that you didn’t need to because, of course, you were an adult. However, you had never gone against your mother before and there couldn’t be a reason for you to suddenly start now.
“Exactly.” your mother quips. “Instead of a party, why don’t you mingle with someone that can elevate you?”
You gulp at her words. 
Your mother doesn’t dwell on the question and you don’t bother to answer. Nor do you bother to dwell on the party. You ate dinner alone in the large kitchen, not bothering to occupy the dining room. 
You decided on a late night shower to hole up in your own misery.  You should have listened to Jungkook when he stated that you didn’t need your mothers permission, but going against her terrified you. It peaked your anxiety that there would be a chance that you’d disappoint her.
A knock sounds at your door when you turn off the shower faucet. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer it, and Jungkook is standing behind it. His arms are crossed and he offers a slight smirk when you open the door. He’s sporting a dark shirt with a matching dark leather jacket. His jeans are light washes with rips at the knees with a pair of compact boots - you ponder if they’re the same one or a different pair.
“I’m glad you’re getting ready.”
You release a shaky breath.
Jungkook frowns. “Oh.” he hums. “Mother dearest said no.”
There’s a tone in Jungkook’s voice, you note. A teasing tone, a “I told you so” tone.
“I’m saddened, Good Girl.” Jungkook places a hand above his heart. “I told my friends that my step-sister will be making an appearance.”
You feel small beneath his gaze. Your hair is wet and droplets of water are dripping down onto the robe and onto the floor.
“I-I…I’m sorry.” you apologize, having nothing else to say.
Jungkook licks his lips. “Don’t be.” he assures. “There’ll be more parties. This one was going to be at one of my friends' homes. Taehyung is his name.” Jungkook uncrosses his arms. “Well, goodbye Good Girl. I’m having the drivers take me now.”
Jungkook turns away from your door and you call after him. “You don’t drive?”
“Of course I do.” Jungkook calls back, not bothering to turn around. “But I don’t drink and drive, Good Girl.”
Jungkook’s words replay in your mind. He told his friends about you - that you’d be coming. You were amazed that you truly wanted to go to this party and see how people your age were. You didn’t have many friends, mainly acquaintances that your mother deemed “profitable”. You only ever had one boyfriend who, again, was chosen by your mother and that ended horribly. 
You dry your hair and add a product, a leave-in conditioner so your hair wouldn’t become frizzy. You take a deep breath while adding lotion to your exposed skin while watching your reflection.
An hour had since gone past and you were tip-toeing outside of your room and outside of the estate. It was quiet and the sky was dark and starless. Your feet dragged you outside the estate and towards the large gates.
You knock on the large SVU window, the tints made it hard for you to look inside.
The window rolls down and an older man sits behind the wheel. He furrows a brow at you.
“Can you take me to…Taehyung’s house?” you ask, unsure how to ask the question without becoming more confused. “Where Jungkook is.”
“Get in.” the man nods his head and unlocks the door. You quickly got into the backseat and put your seatbelt on. Your heart is racing and your eyes watch the estate as if your mother would be coming out any moment.
You never snuck out of your home before. There wasn’t a reason to, not until now. 
You were a young adult and cannot say you’ve gone to a party or had a taste of alcohol. Your mother assured you that you always appeared on guard, that someone was always watching even when you assumed they weren’t.
The drive pulls up to a large estate and now you feel even more out of place than before. Loud music is playing and hundreds of people are outside of the estate.
You thanked the driver and made your way towards the estate. You stood out like a sore thumb - you wore a loose fitted button up shirt and a skirt that stopped a few inches before your knees. The party goers dressed more scandalous than you and there was evidence of drinking. The girls swayed with the music while the men stood close behind them.
Your eyes trailed around for a familiar face - Jungkook didn’t appear to be anywhere. 
You were just glad to be here, even after 30 minutes of not finding Jungkook. You held your cup of juice close to you and lightly nodded your head to the music. 
“Good girl.”
Jungkook catches you from up the stairs. He was tipsy when he caught your figure - the only person dressed as if she was going to the library. He had left a drunk Jimin nodding off against the wall to make his way towards you.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, a sigh of relief releasing for your lips. “I…I made it.”
Jungkook snorts. “You did. Mother dearest decided to let you leave?”
You shake your head. You lift your head higher. “I snuck out.” you murmur, a sense of pride.
Jungkook fights back his laughter. He doesn’t want you to think he is laughing at you, because he’s not. Or he doesn’t want to, at least. But sneaking out to go to a party as a young adult appears completely childish. But here you stand, eyes shining with such mischief and delight that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel your excitement.
“What are you drinking?”
“Apple juice.” you raise the cup slightly. “I never had alcohol.”
“Never?” Jungkook raises a brow and whistles lowly. “You’re actually a good girl.”
It doesn’t take long for you to be drunk. Five shots to be exact. You were introduced to Jungkook’s friends, the majority of them already drunk and overly friendly. They were kind to you, speaking with you as if they’ve known you just as long as they’ve known Jungkook.
Jungkook doesn’t hide his laughter when it comes to you any longer. You’re loud - louder than he’s ever seen you be in the last month - and you appear happy. You let loose, no longer uptight and constantly checking to see if your mother is around the corner to scold you.
Ji-ah, a friend of Jungkook’s, wraps a hand around your wrist once she see’s you stumbling off. She’s tall with a slender build. Her hair is long and dyed a rose-gold color and you envied how confident she was upon meeting her.
“Where are you heading?” she asks. She’s drunk, but has enough liquor throughout the years to know how to function just fine.
“I have…to pee.” you sigh out and Ji-ah laughs.  
“Follow me.” Ji-ah keeps your wrist in a firm hold. “I’ll transport you there safely.”
Ji-ah speaks as you’re peeing, her face in the mirror to check her makeup all the while you’re a few feet away. You met her tonight, as well, but she was comfortable enough to accompany you inside the large bathroom. She talks to you; so fast that you miss a few words - or sentences. But you’re just glad that you had to experience your first college party.
You’re washing your hands when Ji-ah asks you. “What do you think of Jungkook?”
Your mind is blurry and appearing to be in slow motion, yet fast paced. 
“He’s cool.” you murmur to her, shaking your wet hands. “Hot.”
Your eyes widen dramatically at your words and at this, Ji-ah cackles. She’s seated on the bathroom counter and hops off of it to stand besides you.
“I won’t tell.” she winks and lifts her index finger to her lips. “Jungkook calls you good girl. Are you a virgin?”
Your cheeks redden but you shake your head.
“Ah,” Ji-ah moans. “You slut!”
You’re taken aback by her tone. Once more, Ji-ah cackles. “I’m just kidding.” she assures. “You reach slut status when you’re on my level.”
You blink a few times. “What’s slut status?”
“Depends.” Ji-ah responds. “What have you done sexually?”
You feel like you’re under a microscope at Ji-ah’s intense stare. “Okay. How about this,” Ji-ah leans against the counter. “I’ll ask yes or no questions.”
You nod.
You haven’t done a lot, Ji-ah notes, and she’s astonished that she’s met someone that hasn’t. She notes that you had a boyfriend who you lost your virginity to back in high school, but the things you’ve done with him were limited.
“So you went down on him but he didn’t do the same?” Ji-ah hisses with a head shake. “This is why I’m a lesbian now.”
 Ji-ah had heard you speak of your past sexual adventures and needless to say, there wasn’t any adventure. Or excitement.
“You need to live a little.” Ji-ah exclaims. “Luckily for you, you and I are going to be best friends.”
Your eyes widen at her words. You never had a best friend, as sad as it was.
“And I can teach you the in’s and out’s of sex.” Ji-ah places both hands on your shoulders. 
Jungkook opened every door in sight, not bothering to apologize if someone was behind it enjoying their privacy. You were gone and he had not seen you for close to an hour. You were obviously drunk - and already being an inexperienced, shy and naive person, you were bound to be taken advantage of. You were exposed to this world and if anything happened to you, he’d be ridden with guilt.
Jungkook pushes open another door and sighs in relief before knitting his brows. 
Ji-ah and you were both seated on the floor of the large bathroom, lips placed upon one another.
“Are you two making out?” Jungkook asks, genuinely questioning. He didn’t know you were into women, yet Ji-ah also had a habit of having women in her grasp that never went that way.
You turn several shades of red and Ji-ah only giggles. 
“I was teaching Y/N how to kiss.” Ji-ah declares. “Can you believe such a hot piece of ass has never had a good sexual experience?”
“J-Ji-ah!” you hiss. You were already embarrassed upon having Jungkook find you in such a position. You were positive that he thought you were nothing but a loser that hasn’t experienced the basic life like they had.
Jungkook flickers his eyes between you and Ji-ah. He was glad you’re okay and not (seemingly) taken advantage of. You were safe with Ji-ah and now he and you could go home before your mother found out. 
“Good girl.” Jungkook places a hand for you to take. “Let’s go home before mother dearest comes searching for you.”
Ji-ah frowns. 
“You have hundreds of girls here to kiss, Ji.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once he helps you up from the bathroom floor. 
“I was just helping out your sister.” Ji-ah scoffs. “You men could never satisfy a woman like a woman can.”
You wish Ji-ah would shut up. Jungkook didn’t need to know anything else about your sex life - or lack of.
Jungkook snickers at Ji-ah, but he turns and takes a step out the door. “Step-sister.” was all he responded to her.
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You and Jungkook stumble through the door. Your mother was asleep still and that was good - not like she would have noticed. She occupied the opposite end of the estate and you and she didn’t speak unless it was necessary. Still, your anxiety of her finding out lingered on your sober mind and only when you began to drink was when you felt safe.
Jungkook opens up the freezer and takes out a large tub of ice cream. He grasps two spoons from the cupboard and makes his way towards you. Opening it, he doesn’t hesitate in digging his spoon in and downing it.
“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asks after the third scoff of ice-cream. 
You nod your head, humming when the cold sweet reaches your throat. “It was so much fun. I don’t really remember it all.” you scoff. It hasn’t even been a day yet and your mind is already hazy.
Jungkook chuckles. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ji-ah and her words. You didn’t look like the type to have sexual adventures - not like Ji-ah at least. But now he finds himself wondering what you did experience - he cannot imagine seeing you in such a way. You, a shy girl who blushes at everything and has to ask mother dearest for permission for nearly everything.
“What would mother dearest think if she found out you snuck out?”
“She’d kill me.” you respond without missing a beat. Of course not literally, but her wrath would be insane. It would bring out her disappointment in you and that’s not what you desired to experience.
“I see.” Jungkook places the spoon of ice cream in his mouth and swallows. “What if I told her?”
You freeze in your spot, eyes slowly lifting to Jungkook.
Your breath hitches.
“What?” you murmur.
“What if I told her you snuck out and got drunk?” Jungkook questions, voice deep and serious. You feel your heart beat outside your chest. 
“Why would you?”
You were beginning to think that Jungkook and you could form a friendship. That the two of you could be close as he and his friends were, that maybe even his friends would soon be yours.
But that’s not what Jungkook wanted - that was never his intention.
Was his intentions were to trick you into sneaking out so he could blackmail you? To publicly embarrass you to your mother to see what she would do to you.
“I won’t tell your mother. But you’d be indebted to me.” Jungkook eats the sweet without hesitation. “And all debts must be paid in full.” says Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wouldn't tell your mother of you going against her wishes and sneaking out if you allowed him to have you the way he desired.
Of course, Jungkook wasn’t an asshole. He wouldn’t take advantage of you in the slightest - but he wanted you to live. He wanted to see the same woman he saw last night; the woman who laughed and danced without looking over her shoulders.
Jungkook also had no plans on telling your mother anything, but in order to see the you he saw a few hours prior, he would hold this “debt” over your head.
You inhale, dropping your spoon. Was Jungkook blackmailing you?
“I-I-”
”I want you to have fun and be a normal young adult. Come to more parties with me. Hang out with my friends and I. Stand up to mother dearest.” Jungkook explains. He didn’t need you thinking he wanted you to offer yourself to him in exchange for loyalty. “Live your own life the way you want to and not the way she does.”
You cross your arms, ears ringing as they replayed his words over and over again. 
You enjoyed your time at the party. Jungkook’s friends were good people and Ji-ah appeared genuine and true to herself. For the first time, you felt content with going somewhere not having to mingle and social climb - to just be yourself and have fun.
“What do you say, good girl?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I know you had fun tonight. There’s always something to do.”
You slowly exhaled the breath you were holding. Jungkook’s words were convincing and he didn’t seem to be a bad person.
You nod your head in agreement and it causes Jungkook to smile. He nods his head. “Good. Starting first thing tomorrow.” he drops his spoon and claps his hand. “You should drink some water and get some rest. You might have a hang-over tomorrow.”
A hangover was correct. You woke up with your head pounding. Details of the night before replay in your head - the little you remembered. You decided that a hot shower would have to do the trick before you swallowed any medication. You were a mess, dried up saliva on your cheeks and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was a mess, appearing more like a bird's nest than anything.
The water was hot against your skin and it was exactly what you needed. Steam surrounds the bathroom and you begin to hum low to yourself as you lather your skin with body wash.
“Good girl.”
You yelp loudly at the words. Your eyes open to find Jungkook outside the shower - a standing shower with see-through doors. You go to hide your body, but there isn’t much to hide without a towel or curtain.
Jungkook is shirtless, arms crossed over his bare chest as his eyes rake your body.
“J-J-”
Jungkook makes his way closer to you and you feel yourself ready to die. He opens the door to the shower and pushes himself inside. He takes off the sweats he wore along with his underwear and throws them aside.
You push yourself away from him, your back hitting the cold stonewall of the shower. 
“You’re such a beautiful, good girl.” Jungkook’s words murmur. He comes closer, his body getting just as wet as yours. “Such an innocent girl. Tell me, are Ji-ah’s words true?”
Jungkook’s hands reach out to you. He places both of them onto your shoulders, his chest against yours. He’s close, so close that you could feel the vibrations of his chest inhaling and exhaling. 
“I…” your throat tightens at the closeness.
“Have you ever had an orgasm, good girl?” Jungkook asks you. “Has a man ever made you cum so hard you screamed and begged them to stop?”
Jungkook’s words are dirty. You feel hot being so close to the naked man. Jungkook’s hands begin to travel down, engulfing your bare breast. His thumbs play with your nipples as his palms grope them.
“Such lovely nipples.” Jungkook hums. “You have such a slutty body. Good girls like you always have the sluttiest bodies.”
Jungkook brings a nipple into his mouth and sucks. You moan out, the feeling of his teeth tugging at your nipple sends shockwaves through your body.
Jungkook is moaning now. His left hand lowers to between your legs, feeling your throbbing clit. He rubs at it at an alarming pace, but you don’t tell him to stop. You never felt a sensation like this before, you swear you can explode.
“Good girl.” Jungkook hisses, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. “My good girl. Say it.”
“Your good girl.” you moan out, eyes snapping close at the feeling. 
“Good girl.”
Good girl.
Good girl.
“Good girl!”
You snap your eyes open, jolting out of your slumber.
Jungkook’s eyes are wider at the sudden outburst.
Your throat is dry, your head is pounding and you feel a sticky feeling between your legs.
Jungkook is holding a glass of water in his hands and a bottle of medication in another. He places them down on your nightstand. 
“I tried knocking to wake you.” Jungkook says. “But you weren’t awake. You were tossing and turning when I walked in.”
You cough. 
DId Jungkook hear you and your wet dream of him?
You felt sick to your stomach. You were a slut - an idiot slut to have such a dream of a man you barely know. Your soon to be step-brother at that. 
“Thank you.” you murmur quietly to Jungkook. You take the water in your hands, trembling with nervousness.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions. “Did you have a bad dream?”
You wanted to laugh. Your dream was a bad one - as bad as a wet dream can be.
“Something like that.” you say after you take the pills. “I feel like I've been ran over by a truck.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Hangovers are always like that.” he places a hand on your forehead and you freeze. “Breakfast should cure your hangover. Ji-ah is coming over, too.”
Ji-ah. You remember the tall beauty of a friend Jungkook had.
“Maybe you and her can make out again.” Jungkook teases.
You widen your eyes in horror.
“Kidding!” Jungkook laughs, eyes squinting as he does so. “I’ll let you freshen up for breakfast.”
Jungkook makes his way out of your bedroom, but he stops at the doorway. “You sure you’re okay, good girl?” he asks you. 
You nod your head, trying to smile for reassurance but you’re sure it came out more of a grimace. 
Jungkook nods his head back at you before walking out of your room and closing the door behind him. He would pretend - for your sake - to not know that you were moaning in your sleep, calling yourself his good girl.
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Ji-ah lifts up a shirt to show you. “This is cute.” she says and you nod.
Two months had passed since your mother and you had moved in with Joon-sik and Jungkook. You had come out of your shell more when it came to Jook-sik. He was different from your mother’s last partners. He engaged more in your and Jungkook’s lives. He assured that there was a family dinner at least once a week where he’d often asked questions.
Ji-ah and you had become closer and you saw her nearly everyday after meeting her at the party. She would come over most nights and the two of you would talk and laugh for hours until Jungkook would infiltrate the scene.
Jungkook and you had also become close as friends. Most mornings you would come out of your room and stroll down the hall to find Jungkook cooking in the large kitchen. He would have two plates - sometimes more if his friends would be attending - set down on the island. If you weren’t eating dinner with your parents, he would bring in take-out and the pair of you would binge watch whatever tv show was on.
You tried to keep your mind at bay when it came to Jungkook. You couldn’t control your dreams, and the wet dream you had two months prior wasn’t the only one. It disgusts you each time you wake up sweating with the familiar wetness between your legs. Jungkook was attractive, of course, and that frightens you. There were too many times in which Jungkook would walk around without a shirt and it takes everything in you to not stare too long.
“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Ji-ah waves a hand in front of your face. “You’re spacing out.”
You blink a few times. Ji-ah has a handful of clothes in her arms - dresses, shirts with graphic designs and some crop tops and even the shortest shorts and skirts you’ve ever seen.
“Try these on.” Ji-ah pushes the clothing into your arms. 
“I thought these were for you?” you exclaim. 
Ji-ah shrugs. “We need to change up your wardrobe, Y/N. You promised.”
You sigh. You did promise that Ji-ah could add a few pieces to your wardrobe, but the amount of clothes she threw into your arms were more than a few pieces.
You and Ji-ah are the only two in the dressing room. You try on a few pieces, all in which Ji-ah forced you to do a walk and turn so she could see it fully. 
You were growing exhausted after 30 minutes of trying clothes on. You took a seat inside the dressing room to take a quick break.
Jungkook takes a seat besides Ji-ah who’s gently tapping her foot waiting for you to come out. 
“Jimin went to grab our tickets.” Jungkook says. “Are you two still shopping?”
Ji-ah nods. Her stomach churns and she stops tapping her foot to rub her stomach. “Shopping always makes me hungry.”
Jungkook snorts. “Tae’s at the food court. If you go now you’ll make it before he leaves the line.”
Ji-ah's eyes widen and within seconds she’s strutting out of the fitting room and out of the clothing store.
The door opens and Jungkook's eyes trail up to greet you. 
“I think this skirt is too short.”
Jungkook hums, you have not noticed him yet. Your eyes were in the mirror. You wore a skirt - a short fitted skirt that hugs your body. Your shirt was just as tight fitted with a deep v-neck cut.
“What do you think about-”
You turn and freeze seeing Jungkook behind you where Ji-ah should be.
“I think it’s nice.” Jungkook responds. “Are you getting it?”
You feel small under Jungkook’s gaze. 
“I-I’m not sure.” you respond. “It’s too…”
“Tight?” Jungkook snorts. “Mother dearest wouldn’t approve. More reason to get it.”
Jungkook stands from the chair in the fitted room. 
“I don’t think I have anywhere to wear the clothes Ji-ah gave me to try on.” you admit with a short laugh.
Jungkook tilts his head. “I wasn’t going to go,” he begins. “But there’s a group performing at a club. You can wear it there.”
You widen your eyes slightly. “I never-”
“Been to a club.” Jungkook finishes your sentence. “Good girls don’t go to clubs.” he teases. 
You rolled your eyes but you were offended. 
“I guess I can go.” you say. “Are you sure it isn’t…to much?”
You didn’t want to be an odd one out. You weren’t one to show the amount of skin, and though your mind told you that you looked hot, you still felt conscious. 
You turn to look back into the mirror.
“You women do that a lot. You over analyze everything until you no longer think you look good.”
Jungkook is behind you now. Your eyes connect with his in the mirror.
“Do you think you look good?” Jungkook questions.
You nod slightly. 
“Say it.” Jungkook quips. “Gain that confidence. Say “I look good.”
“I look good.” you repeat robotically and Jungkook shakes his head. 
“Say it like you mean it!”
“I look good.” you repeat, a little louder. 
“Good. How good do you look?”
You inhale deeply before exhaling. 
“I look…”
Jungkook waits for your response. 
“...hot?”
“Is that a question?”
“I look hot!”
You do, Jungkook notes, but he doesn’t want to have his eyes linger on your breast in the reflection.
Jungkook's lips twitch in amusement. “That’s it.” he nods. “That’s my good girl.”
Those words cause you to freeze once more. Your eyes connect to Jungkook’s through the mirror. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you, but the both of you know the power of his words.
You gulp, flashbacks of the wet dream of you and Jungkook in the shower.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench at his words, but he’s unsure what he’s doing. He didn't forget you the following morning when he came into your room. You were a moaning mess, hair disheveled and voice low and raspy. “I’m your good girl.” replays in his mind over and over again that day - so much so that he had to pump his cock in the shower to just get his cock to deflate.
Ji-ah enters the fitting room loudly, munching on a large pretzel.
Jungkook and you push away from one another.
Ji-ah watches with a raised brow as neither of you say anything. You enter the fitting room and Jungkook excuses himself.
Ji-ah’s mind wanders and slowly, a smirk forms onto her lips, ideas flashing into her mind.
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Jungkook downs the shot effortlessly, eyes wandering to the club entrance. You and Ji-ah had yet to arrive and the majority of the group was already tipsy. The music is loud and the lights are flashing non-stop. He sits at the bar with Namjoon and Hoseok, both men chatting amongst the group.
“Waiting for someone?”
The voice belongs to Taehyung that is shouting over the loud music. He leans against the bar, eyes following Jungkook’s line of vision. “Maybe that sister of yours?”
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Step-sister.”
Taehyung scoffs. “You say that a lot.” he notes. “Would it be weird if you did call her your sister?”
Yes, it would be-  because Jungkook doesn’t constantly think about any of his family members like he does with you. You being his sister would mean he couldn’t jack off to the thought of you calling yourself his good girl anymore - no matter how creepy it sounded; because technically, you were asleep. His eyes couldn’t linger on the way you’d lick your lips or the slight way your breast would bounce when you’d laugh.
Damn, Jungkook was a creep. But it was only justified (slightly) because he doesn't consider you his sister.
“I met her three months ago.” Jungkook shrugs. 
“True. But Y/N is always around.” Taehyung adds. “You two hit it off quickly.”
Jungkook agrees. You were slowly coming out of your shell and made friends with his friends. Ji-ah and you were growing closer by the day and he was thankful that you didn’t shut down completely with her outgoing personality. 
But, that’s all you and Jungkook could be - friends. He couldn’t allow his desires and intrusive thoughts to take advantage of your shyness and naivety. 
“So you don’t think of her as a sister?” Taehyung leans closer to Jungkook. “So it would be okay for me to…dance with her?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes glance at Taehyung's face that’s illuminating in the light. His eyebrows are raised, waiting for an answer.
Jungkook lowly hums to himself. Was Taehyung interested in you? Were you interested in Taehyung? Did Taehyung ever make advances on you before?
“Are you asking for my permission?” Jungkook questions. “Y/N is her own person.”
Taehyung nods. “She is. But she is also someone who you introduced to us in the guise of her being your sister.”
“Step-sister.” Jungkook murmurs.
“Yes.” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “So as your friend and she as your step-sister. Would you be alright if I danced with her?”
Jungkook wanted to say no. That you were far too innocent for the likes of a Taehyung - someone who had girls in his bedroom nearly every night and never settled for a relationship. But that would make him a hypocrite. He also brought home women from time to time and rarely thought of seeing any of them as more than a simple fuck.
“Do as you please.” Jungkook shrugs and Taehyung offers him a boxy smile.
“I’m going to talk to her now.” Taehyung points towards the door and Jungkook's throat tightens. He instantly regrets his decision to be nonchalant.
Ji-ah and you had just gotten through the door. You sported a short tight dress, stropping at your thighs. It was black as were the heels you were wearing that tied perfectly up your calf. Your hair was in a ponytail, brushed back so smooth that no flyaway would be present.
Jungkook feels his heart tighten when your eyes catch him and soon you’re strutting over to him.
You don’t make it. Taehyung has gotten to you first.
“What do you think?”
“Huh?”
Ji-ah has taken a seat beside Jungkook and had been for the last ten minutes. She watched as Jungkook seethed as he stared at a laughing Taehyung who tried to get you to dance with him.
“Does she look hot?” Ji-ah wiggles her eyebrows. “Took me almost an hour to get her into that dress.”
Jungkook looks away from you. “Good. I guess.”
Ji-ah sighs. “It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to her.”
Jungkook’s head snaps to Ji-ah. “Who-”
“I’m not an idiot.” Ji-ah interrupts with a wave of her hand. “The sexual tension between the two of you are killing me. I say fuck and get it over with.”
Ji-ah was always blunt.
“You’re insane.” Jungkook hisses.
“You’re insane for letting Taehyung beat you to it.” Ji-ah retorts. “But what do I know?”
Jungkook bites his lip. What did Ji-ah know? You surely talked to her about your former sex life. Have you talked to her about him? Did you have the same intrusive thoughts as he did?
“What do you know?” Jungkook caves and Ji-ah smirks. 
“I know enough.” Ji-ah shrugs.
Jungkook seethes. 
“I know our little good girl thinks you’re hot.”
Jungkooks eyes widened.
“But she’s far too afraid to act on her attraction.” Ji-ah groans. “I’m sure she thinks it’s taboo.”
Jungkook swallows. You thought he was hot - that was a start. 
“That’s all you’re getting from me. Girl code.” Ji-ah stands from her bar stool. “Jimin and Taehyung are coming. Jimin’s fucked. I’m not going to be on babysitting duty.”
Jungkook groans as a drunk Jimin sits beside him, slurring his words. 
“It’s my turn, isn’t it?” Taehyung questions, a look of sorrow on his face. Taehyung was put to be the “sober” one of the group tonight. Jimin was already drunk and Hoseok was close behind him. “I’m taking him home and coming back.” he curses beneath his breath at his unlucky night.
But for Jungkook, this was his lucky night. Taehyung was gone and now you wouldn’t be another one of the women who he brought into his bedroom.
“Good girl.” your ears catch the voice instantly, even with the loud music. “I’m glad to see you’ve made it.”
Jungkook is behind you when you turn. You smile and nod your head. “Where has everyone gone?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Jimin is done for the night and Hoseok is on his way there.” he snorts. “Ji-ah is probably looking for someone to makeout with as we speak.”
Jungkook comes closer to wrap and arm around your shoulders. “Shot?”
Ji-ah claps her hands together, Taehyung and Jimin huddled in the corner with her. “Okay, the first part of the plan is in motion.”
Jimin nods as does Taehyung. 
“I’m not really sure what the plan is.” Jimin adds. All he recalls is Ji-ah texting him to act drunk and he’s done that part thus far.
“Ugh, you didn’t fill him in?!” Ji-ah snaps at Taehyung.
“I thought you were doing that!” Taehyung snaps back. “This was your plan after all.”
Ji-ah sighs in frustration. It was her plan - to get you and Jungkook to hook up. If anything else blossomed after that - like a relationship or even a “friends with benefit” (or step-siblings with benefits) - then it’d be a win-win for the both of you. Jungkook was attracted to you, even if he would never admit it aloud. You had already admitted your attraction towards Jungkook, but your shyness and obliviousness would get you nowhere without her help.
“She’s trying to get Kook and Y/N to fuck.” Taehyung explains vulgarly. Jimin widens his eyes. “Oh.” he hums. “Is that why he was giving you death eyes earlier?”
Taehyung nods with a cackle.
“Idiots to lovers.” Ji-ah shrugs her shoulders. “They’ll never get there without my help, of course.”
“Are you sure we’re not just interfering?” Jimin questions. “I mean, they are step-siblings who have to see their parents in a relationship.”
Ji-ah shrugs. “They aren’t related nor were they raised together as brother and sister. I say they fuck and get it out of their systems.”
Jimin nods in agreement.
“What’s the other part of the plan?” 
Plan B - get both parties tipsy - not drunk. You were looser when you had a little bit of alcohol in you. You danced freely like no one was watching and you were more social. Jungkook was already there but you needed to match his cool.
Ji-ah poured you two shots after shots until she noticed your flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. That was her cue to disappear again into the corner of the room with Taehyung and Jimin. 
“I think Hobi and Joon are actually drunk.” Jimin notes, eyes flickering to the dance floor where both men were dancing - Namjoon appearing more disorientated.
“Shit.” Taehyung hisses. “I’m on sober duty.”
“Plan B is in fruition!” Ji-ah cheers. “We can leave them be. If anything happens tonight I can pry it out of Y/N tomorrow.”
“So that’s it?” Jimin ponders aloud. 
“Yes. We let them do them for now.” Ji-ah takes her phone out of her crossbody purse. “I’m telling them we’re leaving to take the drunklings home. The rest is up to them.”
“I hope they’ll be okay.” you say to Jungkook after receiving the message from Ji-ah.
“They do this all the time. Get drunk and act a fool.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry if this isn’t the night you expected.”
You shake your head. “I’m having fun!” you declare. Your eyes wander to the sea of people dancing without a care. 
“You should go dance.” Jungkook says. “No one is going to be watching you like your mind tells you.”
You don’t feel nervous as you once were. Your body is hot thanks to the alcohol in your system and your mind is repeating Jungkook’s words. 
“Dance with me.” you say, getting up from the stool and making your way towards the dance floor. 
Jungkook follows you. The flashing lights illuminate your skin and he finds it difficult to take his eyes away from you. The music is energetic and it’s easy for you to follow the floor of everyone else's dance moves. 
It was fun, you note, dancing with Jungkook. The both of you laughed as you nearly tripped on your heels and he had to catch you swiftly. You would take your hands in his and bring him closer, especially when the area became stuffed with even more people - all dancing carefree.
You’re close to Jungkook, so close that you can smell his cologne mixed with another smell.
“You smoke?” you shout at him and Jungkook nods hesitantly. 
Jungkook had smoked before he came alongside Taehyung. 
“Have you ever smoked?” Jungkook leans down to say into your ears, but he knows the answer. Mother dearest would never allow you to smoke.
You shake your head and suddenly, Jungkook’s mind wanders. “Do you want to try?”
You watch with curious eyes as Jungkook rolls the greenish purple substance onto the small paper. You and he sit on his bed as he does so. The club was long forgotten about and there wasn’t a need to stay when you were offered to smoke - it felt scandalous in a way.
Jungkook brings out a lighter and passes you what he had just rolled.  “You can try first.” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.
You’re nervous, palms sweaty and heart pounding with excitement. Jungkook places the joint between your lips and lights it. “Inhale.”
You do as you’re told, and suddenly you’re a coughing mess.
Jungkook cackles. “First time is rough for everyone.” he assures.
Your throat burns and it’s difficult to stop yourself from coughing. Luckily, Jungkook was preparing for this. He recalls his first time smoking and how he was sure he was going to die. 
Jungkook hands you a water bottle that sat on his bedside table. You down the water hastily, moaning in satisfaction as it heals your throat.
“Better?”
You nod, but your throat burns still. But you’re glad Jungkook allows you to smoke with him. You watch as Jungkook smokes, inhaling the smoke and exhaling it with ease - no coughing or choking like you had. You wonder just how long he’s been smoking for but you don’t ask. 
“Want to try again?” Jungkook passes you the joint, raising his eyebrows. “This time try not to inhale so hard.”
You do as you’re told and you’re surprised to find that you do not end up coughing as hard as you had.
Jungkook and you take turns smoking until the joint is gone. You lay beside him on his bed, feeling euphoric and free. Your anxiety is long gone and you remain relaxed. This feeling was not the feeling you thought being high was like - and you were certain you’d want to feel this way again. 
The bed shifts and you’re finally remembering where you’re at. You turn on your side to face Jungkook, who had already turned to face you. 
Jungkook studies your face. Your eyes are slightly red and low. You look tired and ready to sleep at any moment but your eyes blink constantly to not do so. You were having fun - even if it was just relaxing and not doing anything in particular. 
“I’ll have to give you a new nickname.” Jungkook murmurs.  “I’ve corrupted your good girl image ever since we became friends.”
You giggle. “I can still be your good girl.” you say without a thought. It goes past you, but not Jungkook. 
“My good girl.” Jungkook hums. He likes how it sounds, but he’ll blame his intoxication for now. “Tell me…”
You feel a hand upon your cheek and your eyes open slightly wider. 
“Is what Ji-ah said true?”
You’re unsure which part Jungkook is speaking of. You’re said a lot to Ji-ah and only could imagine what she’s told him.
“That you’ve never had a good sexual experience?”
You mentally curse at Ji-ah. You almost forgot that she had told him at Taehyung’s party. 
You slowly nod your head. There wasn’t a point in denying it. It had to be obvious - hell you never touched a drink until recently. How would you know how to pleasure a man the correct way or had a great sexual experience?
Jungkook’s thumb traces the outline of your lips. He’s silent for a few moments, possibly pondering on his next statement. 
“Has anyone ever touched you?”
You release a shaky breath. You want to pinch yourself to see if this was another dream, but you’re positive that you have not fallen asleep.
You shake your head. 
Jungkook halts outlining your lips with his thumb.
“So you don’t know what cumming feels like.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Ashame.”
You and Jungkook are close - so close that you can hear him breathing. 
“Have you ever made someone cum?”
Jungkook likes you like this. You aren’t shying away from him in embarrassment.
“Of course.”
You lick your lips. You’re unsure where the two of you were going with this. This isn’t a conversation you should be having with him, but it’s as though you’re paralyzed.
“How’d you do it?”
Jungkook leans closer. “I could show you.”
You gasp lightly. The room is completely silent and still. Jungkook and you are even closer, nose touching as you and he speak. 
“Push me away.” Jungkook commands suddenly. “If you’re uncomfortable…push me away.”
Jungkook wasn’t sober, but he was coherent enough to know right from wrong. You were clearly under the influence more than him and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though he was taking advantage of you.
Your hand clenches Jungkook's shirt and you push your lips upon his. It causes Jungkook to flinch as if you burn him, but he doesn’t dwell on his shock. He deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He can taste a bit of alcohol on you, but he doesn’t mind. 
The kiss becomes hotter - more dominant. Your tongue dances along his and you can say you feel content. This feeling was euphoric and unreal - a feeling you never wish to end.
“Let me make you cum.” Jungkook heaves when the kiss is broken. His tone is needy - he was begging you. He wanted to feel you, to taste you. He desired to watch you cum undone because of him - for your first time.
“O-Okay.” you agree.
Jungkook and you continue to kiss. His hands trail lower and lower until they reach the hem of your dress. Your dress is already dangerously short so it doesn’t take him long to reach his hand upward inside your dress and feel the cotton underwear you wore.
“My good girl’s already wet.” Jungkook breaks the kiss to moan into your ear. Your underwear was soaked through and he hadn’t gotten the chance to touch you the way he wanted yet.
Jungkook rubs his fingers against your clothed clit. He needed you to be comfortable first.
You moan, buckling your hips against his fingers. You bite your lip just as Jungkook trails kisses along your neck. 
“I’m going to make you cum.” Jungkook nibbles into your neck, biting and sucking gently on the skin.
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dip into your underwear. He moans along with you when he touches your wet clit - how could you be this wet already? He shivers. The thought of you being this wet excites him. He ponders how it would feel if his cock rubbed against your bare pussy - how it’d feel if he fucked you into oblivion. 
Jungkook’s fingers stroked your clit. He was becoming rougher with how he handled you. His free hand yanks your dress down so that a breast could fly it. He catches a nipple into his mouth, suckling on it like a madman. He had a desire to do so since you strolled into the club with such slutty attire.
You arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook showed your nipple no mercy, nor did he show any to your clit. He rubbed at a ferocious pace and sucked and nibbled on your breast. The scene before you felt dirty and taboo - but you didn’t want him to stop. You had never felt so great in your life.
“I’m going to fuck my good girl with my fingers.” Jungkook grunts, fingers already dipping inside of you. “You’re so wet that they fall easily inside.”
Jungkook’s dirty words mixed with his deep voice is music to your ears.
Jungkook pumps his fingers inside of you. Your pussy squelches as he does so, but he doesn’t mind. The only thing on his mind right now is getting you to cum all over him.
“How does my good girl feel?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper.
“I…I feel good.” you moan out. Your stomach feels tight and you feel as if you’re about to explode. “I feel something coming.”
Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re about to cum.” he says to you. “Let go. Cum all over me, good girl.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You’re breathing heavily and Jungkook shows no signs of stopping until you’re cumming.
You do, a gush of liquid squirting out and onto Jungkook’s wrist and bed. You’re jolting, cursing lowly under your breath all the while attempting to catch your breath. 
Jungkook revels in the sight of you squirting all over him. You were truly a beautiful sight - so innocent and new to this life. He wants to make you cum over and over again - but there will always be a next time.
Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you and brings them into his mouth. He licks them and sighs, wishing he could sink his cock into you right now.
“Let’s go to sleep.” you hear Jungkook say. “My good girl looks tired after cumming so hard.” he teases but you don’t have it in you to deny the slumber that consumes you.
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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 5 months
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Trust Him Like a Brother Chapter 2 Update!
You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Lily Potter and Molly Weasley.
Harry is just hoping he can get through the entire day without his new family realizing he has been sleeping with very soon-to-be step sister. Unfortunately, Ginny never makes anything easy for him.
Read on AO3 here. Read the first chapter on AO3 here or on tumblr here
this chapter was lightly inspired by the song Dress by my girl Taylor Swift
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ayyy-imma-ninja · 1 year
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but it's true tho
you should have known better
since he asked YOU to guard the door and keep him from going in there in the first place!
but no you didn't
you had ONE job.was keeping him out
"That's enough." "This was a long while ago. It's over and done with." "Leave him alone about it. Please..."
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autumnfangirler · 6 months
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Becker family shenanigans >:) (ft. @villainsidestep's fawn becker and @idlenight's river becker! this was also inspired by their posts)
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text is in the alt text, and click for better quality because tumblr is apparently determined to kill the quality of everything i post
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