#boi yo family is FUCKED UP

[bespectacledbun]

more Obsidian!Yves nonsense that I cooked from the brainworms I've shared with my friends in dms before (⚠️ SPOILERS FOR GIL'S MAIN ROUTE IN JP!! ⚠️):

yves who loses his nanny and is told that he has to leave rhodolite to go back to his mother's family. yves who arrives in obsidian alone, scared, and unable to speak the language because he grew up only speaking in rhodolitian and not his mother tongue obsidianite

yves who meets his grandfather and he seems nice, but he's very strict and has a bunch of rules that he has to follow all the time. yves who quickly learns to stifle his cries until he's alone and makes sure to never show weakness in front of his grandfather

yves who doesn't really trust his cousins, except for gil. the rest of them always try to get him to trust him by talking badly about the rest of the family to him, but gil is nice. gil gives him sweets and takes him into town and even showed him a photo of his mother and aunt when they were young, but he gets sick so yves can't see him often :(

yves who quickly learns his uncle is terrifying and definitely not to be trusted. yves who keeps his head down, keeps his mouth shut, keeps to himself and avoids interacting with the emperor at all costs. if gil doesn't like the emperor, then neither does he, he decides

yves who is barely 10 when one cousin dies of bad food and the other in a "riding accident" and he learns how truly brutal obsidian can be. yves who is told it's a mistake the castle cooks and stablehands made, but late at night he hears his grandfather talking about a poisoning and tampered saddles. yves who sneaks around to hear the maids whisper how all the workers at the royal residence were slaughtered and their bodies put on display outside the gates

yves who notices his grandfather gets increasingly stressed over the years. yves who starts helping with with for the kloss household more and more, until he ends up taking over the duties entirely while his grandfather does.... god knows what. yves who manipulates the household business to suit gil's needs instead of the emperor's after gil confides in him that the emperor was the one who murdered his mother and older brother in cold blood

yves who is there right alongside gilbert when his oldest cousin mocks gil to his face about his mother's death, who says her and their brother were too weak and deserved to die as they did. yves who turns away as gil stabs him through the heart in rage and then helps hide the body later. yves who joins gilbert's plans for a coup d'état cleanse the empire of all its corrupt nobles

yves who is 16 when he learns of his grandfather's plans to eliminate gilbert on the emperor's orders, who skewers lord kloss before he can even try to hurt gil, who watches from behind as gilbert finally kills the emperor and throws the body off a cliff

yves who helps find and eliminate all those who are still loyal to the bloodthirsty politics of the previous emperor so that gil can achieve his goals of cleaning the country faster

yves who finds and brings roderich into the court, so that when if gil dies he can replace him and yves won't have to. yves who refuses to let gil die after everything he's done because he doesn't want to be left all alone again

yves goes to the border on gilbert's orders, who finds an injured little boy unconscious under a collapsed building and brings him back, so that even if he's too far gone to be saved he can at least get a proper burial along with all the other civilians who died in the war

yves who finds out this unconscious little boy could possibly be his half brother, who looks at his scrapes and injuries and wonders what kind of hellish family would have left him to die on the battlefield like that

yves who spends months nursing and training the boy–– luke, as he will later learn–– and teaches him how to fend for himself before gil sends him back to rhodolite

yves who spends years growing the power and influence of house kloss in order to support gil, until one day he is summoned to the palace for no discernible reason. yves who is told by his cousin that his father has died, and that in a month the court of rhodolite will send ambassadors asking for his return for the selection process

yves who spends that month reading up on the history of the belle system and scoffs at the sheer naivety of it, because what would a commoner know about the dangers of the royal court? how much could they possibly learn in a month that would equal the experience of a lifetime in danger?

yves who is told by gil that he is to be prince, liaison, and spy all at once, that luke and another prince in the rhodolite court will help him while he is there. yves who practices his rhodolitian again after years, so that he doesn't need that airheaded translator assigned to the diplomatic party. yves who introduces himself in stilted, but fluent rhodolitian to the group of strangely dressed men that greet him in the throne room, the men that are supposedly his brothers

yves who gauges all of the princes one by one, wondering which might be the prince gilbert mentioned that would help him. yves who's eyes barely flicker when they see luke, because they aren't supposed to know each other at all

yves who is both surprised and suspicious when Leon reaches out first and invites him to dinner, who shows up not expected to be welcomed with a feast in the domestic faction's office. yves who keeps his guard up, not wondering if this is some sort of ploy to get him to spill his secrets, but by the end of the party realizing leon is just that trusting of him (he can't tell if his older brother is stupid or kind-hearted)

yves who is already used to the stares and contempt that townsfolk and nobles give him so it just slides off his back like water. yves who is surprised when jin and licht both step up to defend him from a particularly loose-lipped noble that was barraging him earlier

yves who sees leon and jin and licht and clavis having fun together, who can't help but feel a kernel of resentment sprout when he sees them truly happy with each other. yves who remembers his cousins before they died, who recalls those years of just him and gilbert working alone because it was them against the world

yves who has completely settled in by the time he is allowed into the round table room, where he meets the commoner that will apparently decide the fate of the kingdom. belle. yves who learns her name is emma, and that she's apparently one of the townsfolk and works as a local bookstore's employee.

yves who remembers gil's orders–– 'you must be chosen as the king for our plan to work'–– and meets her bright eyed gaze, innocent gaze. this will be way too easy

#ikepri #yves kloss #obsidian yves au #louise cheering in dms when I made yves stab grandpa kloss was so fucking funny actually #the way i had to triple check gil’s route and family lore for this tho omfg #boi yo family is FUCKED UP #as a suitor i absolutely despise him but damn is his route rich in plot and character lore #also im remembering i made like a character design for how his yves would differ from rhodolite yves and it was so sexy #yves and gil with matching piercings. okay? okay #they like a lil bit of body candy on em dont talk to me okay #obsidian yves my deranged feral meow meow. i can give him trauma he dont even know about

[fizzseed]

this is insane actually

#do i hate myself for doing a repost thing #yes #did i need to have this on ym blog?? yes #dear evan hansen #deh #generously dear evan hansen is an interesting story about a boy who creates a reality out of sheer desperation #like evan is kind of ridiculously unlikeable as a protagonist #but also so endearing in a way???? #there’s something so fucked up but so human about it #how all these people in the show are just so desperate #that they’ll cling to this SO unlikely reality that evan creates #evan is so desperate to BE something to be SEEN #and connors poor family is so desperate for his memory to be something GOOD #and it all just comes together to be something so painful #and horrible and weird and strange #like evan is clinging desperately to this idea of someone BEING there when he falls. he creates this illusion #of looking up and seeing connor after he breaks his arm #instead of being alone #and jared is just like "yo this dude fuckin SUCKED i'm gonna make this benefit me #and alana??? like yes she means well but she's ALSO making shit up to scrabble for purchase #noone deserves to disappear etc etc

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #smut #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #mha smut #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut

[urbanfiltered]

being a 25yo single mother is so hard 😔

#heehee #no but really #i know there are tons of stupid overly cliché tweets out there about how hard it is to be the oldest sibling blah blah blah #but honestly something has to be said for how i truly have NO FUCKING IDEA what i am doing with my life and yet #i somehow have these two young boys looking up to me for guidance #i witnessed my 21 yo brother cry yesterday for the first time in my life and it fucked me up so bad #it's like #i get all of the maternal feelings and none of the agency #i want to help SO MUCH and i care so much and so deeply that it's a constant ache and worry inside of me #but i do not have the time or money or wisdom needed #and it sucks!!!! #i cant protect this sweet innocent baby from Life! he has to learn his own lessons! but god i wish the world treated him kinder #he has to learn how to fight his own battles too #he's having a sort of delayed adolescence where he suddenly and angstily realizes that my parents are flawed and do not always have his #best interests at heart #and i'm so MAD on his behalf #i'm so fucking angry #but these aren't my fights to pick and he needs to find his own way and his own balance between #living his own authentic life and also pleasing his family #anyways it's really bad he's been a wreck #tw: death #our cousin died a few weeks ago and he hasn't been the same honestly #and then he has issues with psychosis and some of that has flared up recently #his friends have abandoned him due to some of the uglier symptoms of mental health that we dont like to talk about #the paranoia and the hallucinations and the unhealthy coping mechanisms mostly #my parents are running him around the bend with some of the ridiculoous and unreasonable requests they constantly demand from him #he's running himself into the ground and all i can do is watch #it feels FUCKING horrible #and it's not like watching a friend undergo shit #it's so much worse

[saturniolos]

besties (matt sturniolo x reader) ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

notes: this took me days. i am going BLIND plz show sum love &&&&& hey——— come talk to me ! (btw this type of editing/social media aus have been around for ages- credit goes to the person who came up with it first!!)

yourusername

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yourusername happy 20th my boys. thank u for driving me around and feeding me and being the greatest airbnb hosts when i be acting up … 🦌🦌🦌🤍 love you always.

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matthew.sturniolo

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[ashersanity]

— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”

— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.

— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little. a second part to this mess can be found here — and third part here.

— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.

— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”

Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.

Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.

“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.

“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.

Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”

Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.

“Bailey.”

“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.

“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”

One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.

“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.

“Hey freak, its your turn.”

Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?

“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.

“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.

Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.

The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.

As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.

The walls here felt unbearably bare.

Like the people that lived in it.

Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.

Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.

Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.

You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.

Were you?

Whitney was the first to change that.

From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.

The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.

Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.

Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.

Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.

You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.

Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.

Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.

So why not make it happen?

It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.

A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.

“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.

“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.

Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.

Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?

How cute.

“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”

“..What?”

Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.

So, fuck it all, right?

With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.

Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.

Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.

Fucking fuck, you were hard.

And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.

“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”

No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.

But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.

“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.

It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.

Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.

All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.

A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.

Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.

“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.

It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.

That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.

All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.

Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.

A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.

It suits you, really.

“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”

“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.

Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.

For that, he should be properly training you then.

“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.

So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”

Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?

—

Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.

Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.

‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.

..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?

Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.

So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.

So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.

Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.

Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.

“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.

Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.

“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?

Would it?

Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?

“Ky—?”

Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—

“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”

As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.

The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.

“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.

So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.

“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.

“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?

Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”

“B-Big brother—“

As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.

“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.

Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.

“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“

And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?

“..Good.”

#fuck #..fucking never. ever. writing this much within the span of a few days. ever. #FUCK SCENES WERE NASTY!!!! FUUUCKKK!! #I’m not beating the siscon allegations with this one #off to blow my brains out now #dol #degrees of lewdity #ITS ALL IN THE FAMILY. #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #bailey the caretaker #robin the orphan #big brother whitney #little sister kylar #daddy bailey #bottom male reader #top male reader #x male reader #character x male reader #asher writes

[idkfitememate]

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 (You are here!)

You thought that the interaction you had with the boys would be enough to satiate you for a long while.

Well you were wrong.

Because now all you wanted to do was go into Mondstadt and see everyone.

There was one thing holding you back, however…

…And that was wondering where the story was.

Now, you unironically had been getting “vIsIoNs Of ThE fUtUrE”, or rather the updates and current story as it continued in your world.

Your world…

Shaking off the slight homesickness, continued on your mission. Finding out where ever which ever sibling was in the story.

What you weren’t expecting however was to watch a Paimon being fished out by a hungry looking Aether.

Oh Gods.

Oh Fuck.

THE STORY HASN’T EVEN STARTED????

This is new, considering that in nearly every fic about the SAGAU the story was up to the current update or it had stopped all together.

… Did you mention that you were a vivid reader of fanfiction? And player of Genshin? Because you were.

Tiptoeing backwards, you suddenly hear the shrill voice of a certain fairy… as in fairly large pain in your ass-

“Oh! If you’re really hungry you should go hunt that boar right there! I’ve never seen a painted one though…”

OH SHIT OH FUCK-

You ran away before the blonde could even turn around, hearing Paimon’s voice call out for you to stand still. No you weren’t gonna stand still!

You continued to run, cursing yourself out in your head for being noticed.

You were happy where you were! With your family! You already interacted with Mondstadt in the form of Razor and Bennet, that was enough!

You rushed deeper and deeper into the forest, stopping when you noticed your family ahead. Trotting before them, you laid down in front of the fire.

Ever since finding you, they refused to eat boar meat, switching to fox and bird so you wouldn’t have to sit and watch them cook something that looked like you, which was nice.

Right now they were roasting a bird over the fire, spices filling your nose as you curled up around it. Another change was the increase of Mita and Lawa and samachurls at the camp. Two of each element for each type of churl to protect the camp, and you.

This was also true for other mobs. Slimes and Whopperflowers, anything else in the immediate area. The number was upped.

And with your heightened heart rate?

The number only went up.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

By now, Aether and the small girl he had come to find was named Paimon had already cleared out a Hilichurl camp with the Outrider of Mondstadt, Amber.

Wiping sweat off her forehead, she turned to the duo.

“For some reason, the number of Hilichurl camps has been growing rapidly in the past year, even more so than before. Your help is immensely appreciated!” She said, sighing.

Aether only stood by before speaking up.

“Have you seen a painted boar around here?” He questioned.

“Oh! Yeah! The Boar of the Wilds! Yeah, quite the trouble maker they are. They’re a weird boar too, sticking around Hilichurls and the such. But they help the kids so we don’t see them as too much of a threat. Why?” Amber smiled as she turned around to face the Traveler, who was glaring at a now heavily sweating Paimon.

“No reason…” He said through grit teeth, making Paimon shake and mutter something about ‘not knowing’ or something of the sort.

“Well anyway, let’s get you into the city Traveler!”

And with that, the trio continued on their walk, unaware of the slime watching them.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

So you really are at the start of the story.

You paced around the fire as your family watched sitting cross legged.

You had two options:

1. Travel with Aether and see all 7 nations.

Or

2. Stay where you are and live with your family till the story ends.

Your first instinct was, of course, to stay with your family. You had built a life here, no matter how crude.

Your family cared for you and you them. These specific mobs were going to live on in your heart and you’d be damned if you’d leave them. Because if you did, the odds of travelers and others of that nature might find them and…

Well you didn’t want to think of what’d happen.

You shook you head and snorted, pacing faster. You ignored the worried cries of those around you as you continued to think.

Now that the story started, that meant that shit was about the hit the fan.

You had noticed a lack of Divalin, and more windstorms. With how happy things had been, you tired to ignore it.

Ignore the signs.

But a small voice in the background of your head had told you.

It told you that the story had started. That you’d have to do something.

But if you did you’d mess up the whole story, and then you wouldn’t be able to predict what happens next and you’d loose all sense of control you felt you’d had.

The abyss.

You glanced back at your family.

One thing you made sure of was that there were no Abyss Mages around. Without them, your family was more than docile around humans, not truly seeing a reason to hurt them without cause.

When they would try to reverse the curse… if you left your family…

…

…

… You rammed into a tree.

Small screams erupted from them as the tree tilted over and fell, the top splintered from the bottom where you rammed it. Letting out a loud squeal, you rammed into another.

Why was this so difficult??

On the one hand, with your knowledge you could probably make so many lives better and easier!

But on the other, after you help one, it could cause a ripple effect and make you loose your grasp on what was happening, leaving you unable to help.

And with cautious you were, you didn’t even know if you’d come back if you’d die!

Would you be willing to die for these people?

Another tree fell.

You’d die easier than a human, what happens if you die.

What happens if you’re forced to leave your family?!

You rammed another tree.

Your breathing quickened and your eyes started to water.

The wind began to pick up.

When your hooves made contact with the ground, the earth rumbled.

You could no longer hear the shouts and cries of those around you.

What would happen when you died?

Would your blood be gold?

More trees fell.

Your eyes were blurred with tears.

You were barreling through the Forrest at this point, mind of every type crying out to you.

Crying out for you to stop.

You didn’t want to die.

But others would die for you.

You could stop so much.

… You could’ve stopped so much.

When the thought hit that while you’ve been messing around for just over a year, people were getting hurt, you ran faster, and hit harder.

The wind whipped harder. When you looked up you noticed Stormterror and Aether fighting above the city.

Had you been so caught up in your own stupid emotions that you failed to notice the city closest to you was under attack?!

How fucking STUPID could you be?!?!

You rammed harshly into a large tree, being stopped by both the winds of Teyvat and the sheer thickness of the tree.

Shaking your head you looked up.

… The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero.

You had ran all the way to Windrise.

Hiccups forced their way out of snout and tears poured out of your eyes.

You sobbed.

Everything was blurry and your ears were ringing. You were tired of thinking.

You barely registered the Pyro Samachurl laying a churl blanket around your back while warming it.

More and more mobs surrounded your sobbing form and slowly cuddled around you. Warming you.

And eventually, you fell asleep under the large and warm pile of Hilichurls, Mitachurls, Lawachurls, Samachurls, Slimes, Whopperflowers, other boars, foxes, and birds.

You were safe. You were loved.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“You have to check it out! I understand that the main issue is The Stormterror, but Miss. Jean! It’s a large pile of monsters and animals! This could pose a great threat!”

The distressed traveler continued to rant at the Acting Grand Master, causing her to sigh.

Everything lately had been so stressful, even with the help of the Blonde Traveler. Currently they were with Lisa at The Temple of the Lion.

She genuinely, truly didn’t want to ask them to help with this.

So she decided to check it out on her own.

Standing from her desk, she walked around to shake the hand of the now silent traveler.

“Don’t worry. I’ll check it out and do what I can to help in the situation.”

She was met with many thanks from them as they shook her hand up and down with vigor.

Lord Barbatos she was tired…

Making sure she was all ready to go and had her trusty Aquila Favonia, and headed out.

Nodding at everyone she passed, she quickly made her way out of the city and towards the place of interest.

The place said to be the historical ground of her hero, Vanessa’s ascension to Celestia.

The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero, Windrise.

Running her way over, it was very apparent that the Traveler was not kidding. She could see the large multicolored blob from where she was, though it wasn’t moving.

The thing had just recently appeared, but that didn’t change the fact that this was still dangerous.

Creeping towards the pile, she was met with the cacophonous sound of snores from monster and animal alike.

And she was now confused.

Never in Jean’s life had she ever seen a fox curled around a Sawachurl. Or a bird sleeping peacefully on a Lawachurl. Or boars cuddled up with Mita and Hilichurls.

Wait.

Boars cuddled up with… oh.

Sighing she readied her sword to attack and find where that boar was under all this, before a Frostarm Lawachurl shook itself awake. The sudden movement startled her and she was met with the blank carved eyes of its mask boring into hers.

The two stared for a bit, before it huffed and laid back down, cuddling into a Blazing Axe Mitachurl who was… well… cuddling it’s still-red-but-put-out axe.

Jean was bewildered at the interaction, standing from her attack position. Looking more, she took a risk.

She stepped forward.

She was met with whirrling of a Ruin Guard starting up.

If what she was thinking was true, then why was anything of Ruin here?! The boar hadn’t been known to wander into any of the shrines or otherwise where they may have been found!

She was met with a Guard turning to her. Again she readied for an attack.

Only to be met with small ‘beeps’ and ‘boops’.

It, like the Lawachurl only glanced at her, before lying back down.

Okay, what was going on?!

Now she just decided to walk through the large crowd, though through is a strong word. On was more like it.

And as she got closer to the large Oak tree, she noticed the dip right at its trunk. The pile only got larger, and when she got to the trunk, there was a large divet. Jumping down, she was met with the culprit she thought she’d meet.

The boar.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Being shaken awake was not what you wanted right now.

Groaning and huffing, you tired to push the hand off, only causing it or come back and push harder.

You continued to shove it off until it finally stopped. You sighed in relief and snuggled back into the warmth around you, falling back asleep.

At least, until you heard the scared cries of a Sawachurl.

Cracking your eyes open you immediately notice an angered(??) Jean standing over you and a Pyro Sawachurl. And she was directing that anger(???) towards the small churl.

Oh. Hell. No.

Jumping up you lightly but into her. Though your ‘light but’ sent her crashing into the large wall of bodies behind her.

Which started to wake up the large pile.

Animals and monsters grunted and groaned as Jean stood in shock at the ripple effect of your actions.

You were just watching a fox climb up the tree in interest.

The whole pile had woken up, standing confused at you and the only human. Jean was noticeable tense.

Shaking off the blanket, you snorted, grunted and oinked into the crowd. And after a moment, they began to disperse, much to Jean’s amazement.

“How did you… anyway. You can’t do… this anymore, alright? I don’t understand how you got these monsters and otherwise to not attack humans but I’ll have you know that you gave passing travelers quite the scare. You understand, right?” Jean asked.

You stood and gently nodded, still tired and slightly overwhelmed by past thoughts.

She sighed and made a decision.

Walking behind you - making you look at her with interest - she wrapped her hands around your midsection and picked you up, causing you to struggle.

Your distressed squeals filled the air as she began to explain. “I just - ngh - need to keep an eye on - hey watch it! - keep an eye on you - ow!” Her words were interrupted by your squirming and moving in her arms, but at her words you slowed.

… Right. The Stormterror situation.

She looked down with concern when she noticed you no longer struggling - she was expecting a fight the whole way - and was startled by the far off look in your eye.

Sucking it up, she began to carry you back to The Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Seeing you in the office was not what Kaeya was expecting.

Having never met you personally but hearing stories around the city, seeing you in Jeans office sat beside her desk was a surreal experience.

The only reason he was here and not waiting for the Traveler was because he had been told the Jean had left, and with Lisa also not there, he was in charge for the moment.

Was he just a bit pissy that he was the only asked after they realized Lisa was gone?

… No comment.

But by the time he got back it didn’t matter because Jean and… you were already there.

He barely got a word in anyway because the door swung open with the Librarian and Traveler in tow.

“We’re back!~” Called Lisa. Aether stood behind her, red in the face. Kaeya wasn’t shocked with how… sultry she could be.

She was definitely an acquired taste, that was for sure.

But the moment of peace was broken by your loud squeals and oinks of distress, and the blue-coded man noticed you were looking at their new blonde friend.

And when you got up to start running, he made a split second decision.

He dove for you.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

A sharp crack was heard when your hoof made contact with Kaeya’s face.

You stood startled for a moment, before making eye contact with Aether again and panicking all over again.

You hadn’t made your decision!

You thought you’d at least get until he finished the Main Story Quest to make your decision!

Your panicking and running form was confined to the room as Jean commanded the doors be shut and locked from the outside.

This choice was made clear after you made a b-line for the door and rammed into it. You stumbled a bit for a second before running around again.

Using any kind of Vision or otherwise was immediately out of the picture due to the confined space and bunches of important documents and books in the vicinity.

Jean also tried to make a grab out you, which worked for a second… until you infused your body with Electro, shocking the shit out of her.

Now they had no clue what to do.

Well wait… nevermind.

Trying to coral you was the best bet.

And that’s what they did. But that just made you more wild.

Didn’t they ever hear the saying “A cornered animal will fight twice as hard.”?

Because that’s exactly what happened.

You rammed into walls and windows, no longer squealing but screaming.

It sounded sickeningly human to them.

You rammed past them and into the desk, causing a sharp letter opener to fall onto you.

Slicing your skin and making you bleed.

Gold.

It shined as you collapsed to the floor. Shaking and crying. Tired and hungry.

Those who were awake - you knocked out Kaeya - stood in shock as you continued to cry.

Lisa silently traced the paint on your fur. It’s swirling patters that, now that she saw them and was analyzing them anyway, looked like the patterns that lined the statues of their Creator.

Jean finally thought about your odd relationship with the creatures of Teyvat. How they listened to you and became docile in your presence. How they payed attention to only you and never harmed humans when around you. You calmed them. Like the Creator.

Paimon - who watched the ordeal from a corner in fear - put together how the fauna blocked Aether from reaching you and how the wind seemed to boost you away from the duo. How Teyvat seemed to help you. Much like it would the creator.

Jean and Lisa turned to each other. They just thought you had a weird mutation or something of the sort! Maybe even a vision! Would be the first time an animal got given a vision but that’s what they chalked it up to!

But this… they thought of who they thought was the Creator who was sitting on their throne right now, enjoying the finer things in life.

They were… lying?

The person they had been worshipping for.. years now.. was FUCKING LYING?!?!

Jean dropped to her knees and Lisa shook.

A whispered murmur left Paimon’s lips which startled Aether.

“The Creator…”

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Waking up in the med bay of The Knights of Favonius Headquarters was not what you were expecting.

A bandage was wrapped around your midsection and a guard was stationed at your door.

The most shocking thing however, was that every Vision Holder in Mondstadt - including the Traveler - was in your room.

Even Albedo and Eula.

Shaking and coughing alerted them to your now awake status. Those who were seated now stood.

You noted the bandage on Kaeya’s chin and felt bad.

Though that quickly turned to confusion when everyone - again, including Aether - bowed.

Then that confusion turned to fear as they spoke in unison.

“Our humblest greetings, O’ great Creator.”

…Shit.

And that is Pt. 3! The reason I’m gonna leave it like this is because I like open to interpretation stories, plus requests are still very open! So endings are entirely up to how you, my readers, want it to be! I have a hyperactive imagination, and love stories like this, and I want to see what you guys could come up with because I love you guys’s ideas! Thank you all who have joined me on this journey of Boar!Creator!

♡    ♡   ᕬ  ᕬ  ♡    ♡

+   ♡   （⌯'-'⌯)   ♡   +

┏━♡━ U U━♡━┓

♡  I love you guys! ♡

┗━♡━━━━♡━┛

Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @iacunaanonymoused, @resident-cryptid , @reemthetheme , @wichiwachi , @atsukawolfcat , @starlightdreaming, @time-shardz , @novarowan , @justyoureader , @undecidingfate , @neverending-animelove , @nishayuro o, @angstylittleb1tch , @soluzere , @mmeatt, @shirasakai, @kapitankarate, @leafanonsforest , @silverstarred , @lucienbarkbark

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator

[normansnt]

Almost got you, bitch

(Hazbin Adam x fallen angel!Male reader)

No warnings I think perhaps cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a fallen angel.

You questioned heavens doings after finding out about the extermination, and of course heaven didn't like that.

When you fell, your best friend, Adam, was the most pissed off. Granted he was the one who told you about it one night when he was drunk and you had to get him home but he didn't know you were gonna make such a fuss about it.

You were in heaven, everything was fine you had your friends there, no one important to you fell before you, and most importantly you had him there, your best friend. Why would you care about those misfits in hell??

All though he shouldn't have been surprised, even though you put on a hard shell and make very similar jokes than himself you are a kind soul, a very kind one at that always helping others. But still, you fell, you are not here with him anymore. That sucked.

*flashback*

Heaven was a pretty new invention and adam and eve were trying to settle, for that god sent an angel, you.

When you knocked on the door adam went to open it.

"Who the fuck is here this early?" Was the first sentence he ever spoke to you.

Now you aint gonna take shit from nobody.

"Im the fuck who is here get you asses moving cuz we're going to heaven" you said with an equally annoyed tone.

Thats when Adam knew he liked you. And with the same amount of sass to each other the two of you became fast friends.

"I Almost got you, bitch" yelled Adam. You guys were playing flying tag cuz he just got his wings and they were completely new to him.

"You wish, fucker" you answer with a shit eating smirk. You were the one to teach him how to fight, the one who helped him through his divorce withe eve, you were his best friend.

*end flashback*

"...Shit" adam called seraphim, an idea occurred to him, how about they move up the next extermination, that way he has a reason to get down there sooner and bring you back, also slather some demons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in hell, the first thing you saw was someone trying to cut out your organs.

"WAAHH...MOTHERFUC-- WHAT THE HECK R U DOING??" You jumped up and started yelling at the demon.

"Calm down pretty boy, the cannibals pay good money for fresh organs like yours."

"Well guess what jackass I dont give tiny rats ass how good those fuckers pay you my organs aint for sale" and with that sentence you quickly kicked him in the nuts and when he fell to the ground brocke his neck. Yeah...you were kind but god help people who mess with you...literally.

"Well shit, never had to fight without wings."

"...Interesting, and here I thought I would have to come to your rescue in exchange for your soul." Came a...static voice from behind you.

"Uhhh...thank you?? I guess, but there will be no taking my soul." You looked at the grinning man in a red suit.

"Such a shame, you'd be my first fallen angel"

"...Ok, listen can I help you with something ooooorr??"

"Not particularly I just wanted your soul, but alas that ship has sailed, however since you just fell I assume you have no where to stay" his grin stretched a bit as he said that.

"Well, you assume correctly but Im not gonna agree to any deal you have to offer just for a place to stay"

"Well, well, you are smart one even though angles can be so gullible, but no there is no deal the only thing you'd have to do is perhaps act nice"

"I can do that." you answered finally smiling at the strange man.

"They are coming" you whispered to yourself. After you arrived in hell, Alastor offered you a place in the hazbin hotel and you were happy to take it. This was over 7 months ago, in that time you grew close to everyone who was there, they were your found family and now you will protect them even if its against you first family.

Today was the day of the extermination, the day you'd have to fight heaven, the day you's have yo fight Adam. Even though you never admitted to yourself you had deeper feelings for him than friendship, but since he literally went around fucking bitches that kind of lowered your hopes.

The fight was raging on. Since you were the one who literally trained these exorcists they were no match for you. However Alastor was supposed to take on Adam, and that worried you. You knew how powerful Alastor is supposed to be but you have seen Adam's powers first hand.

Just as you suspected Alastor couldn't take on Adam. So Charlie had to take over which made you even more worried. You climbed up and saw Adam hitting Charlie into the hazbin hotel sign.

"NO" you yelled

Adam turned towards you with a smile that said he was ready to kill, that disappeared however when he saw that it was you.

"(Y/N)...."

He looked at you for a moment when someone punched him out of no where.

"Oh shit" you said while looking at Adam flying away and than back at who punched him. Lucifer.

"Lucy?" U asked baffled. You met him when he was still in heaven. Personally you loved his creative ideas while the making of earth so you guys would talk a lot. You also found it highly unfair when he fell and considered going after him, but Adam held you back.

"...Who--? SHIT (Y/N)? Omg why tf are you down here??" He asked half pissed half happy to see you.

"Well a little this, a little that, you know, also I fucking fell so." You replied while hugging him.

"How many of you fuckers do I have to beat before I can take (Y/N) home with me" said Adam very pissed after crawling out from the window he was punched into.

"What?" You asked

"I'm the only one that matters, you messed with my daughter and now Im gonna fuck you" said Lucifer proudly smirking. Everyone went silent while you were trying to hold back your laughter.

"Khmm...its fuck you up, dad" corrected Charlie

"Wait what did I say?" Asked Lucifer confused.

After this a kind of...fight started between Lucifer and Adam. Well, only adam was fighting Lucifer was mostly changing forms.

It was quite funny to watch.

At the end Lucifer won over Adam and he wanted to kill him, but your body moved on its own and you threw yourself at Adam.

Charlie also told his dad to stop.

You stood up from Adams body.

"Take your angel army, and go home" you told him in a soft tone.

He painfully stood up and looked at you with sadness...and something you couldn't quite place.

"(Y/N)..." come with me, please. Is what he wanted to say, but he knew you are still mad at him and that your answer will be no. Or he just didn't want to seem vulnerable in-front of demons.

"I Almost got you, bitch"

Your lips twitched upwards a little bit.

"You wish, fucker"

And with that the angel army and adam flew up to heaven.

When adam arrived in heaven, something downed on him.

"Fuuuuuuckkk..IM GAY-"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is he an (at best) mid white man who thinks he is the shit?

Yes.

Is he a fucking loser though and a lil bitch

Also yes.

BUT YK WHAT.

HE IS FUNNY AF I LOVE HIM AND HIS SONGS R FUCKING AWSOME.

HOPE MY FELLOW ADAM ENJOYERS LIKED IT THOUGH😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam #adam x reader #gay fanfiction

[spaceycowboys]

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader

summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?

notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 5.3k

The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.

You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.

An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.

You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.

“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.

Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”

Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”

“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.

You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.

“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”

Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?

Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”

She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.

“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.

“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.

Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.

As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.

The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”

And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?

Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”

Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly

“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”

Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.

“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.

“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”

                                                        εїз

Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.

Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.

You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.

Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.

You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.

Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.

His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.

His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.

You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.

He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.

Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.

“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.

“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.

“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.

You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”

Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.

His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.

Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.

His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.

Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.

When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.

You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.

“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.

His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.

Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.

He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?

“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”

You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.

“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”

Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“

His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”

His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.

“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.

Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.

You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.

You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.

After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.

When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.

Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.

“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.

He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”

You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”

He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.

“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.

Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.

You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.

Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.

“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.

This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”

His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”

Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.

“Oh, gods.”

It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.

A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.

“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.

His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.

Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.

“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.

You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.

Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.

Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.

“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”

You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.

The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.

A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.

There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.

A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”

“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.

“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.

“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.

It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.

“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.

“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.

“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.

“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.

His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.

Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”

He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.

“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.

His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“

“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.

With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.

Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.

He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.

He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.

“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.

His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.

He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.

An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.

The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.

When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”

A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.

With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.

His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.

You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“

His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”

His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.

He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.

“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”

He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.

He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.

A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.

He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.

Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.

His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.

“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.

You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.

“I don’t think-“

Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.

His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.

You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              

He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.

His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.

Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.

#aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x y/n #aemond imagine #aemond smut #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #aemond x reader smut

[magics-neptunes-things]

Open your eyes

Hi guys!

A new one, you can find the ask in here, from the prompt here :) For this one it's the number 2 and 9.

Alexia I miss you :(

Enjoy ♥

______________________________________________________________

Alexia. You’ve known her since you were a little girl. You met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father. Yours gave it back to them and the first look you exchanged with her was separated by the two pairs of legs of your fathers.

Over the years you have developed a flawless friendship, even if the life paths you have chosen are different. Alexia is a world-famous footballer, and you decided to follow your dream to become a photographer. You studied for that and you work for an agency that offers you mandates that allow you to live in a very comfortable way. And over time you have made your own customers who don't hesitate to contact you directly. Not to mention that, thanks to Alexia’s influence, the Barcelona football club calls you whenever they need official photos.

You have been present for Alexia during her career, attending her ups and downs. You were there during her various operations and Alexia convinced you to agree to participate in the report made on her, "Labor Omnia Vincit". You even gave an interview, some of which was broadcast on that occasion. The title "Childhood Friend and Photographer" made you laugh, because Alexia is much more than that to you.

The truth is, you’re completely in love with her.

You couldn't say how long, but in your opinion always even if you didn't understand the signs right away in your teenage naivety. Lost in your sexuality, you first tried to date boys, before turning to girls. Alexia never showed any signs of attraction to you, so you desperately tried to stifle your feelings for her in other people’s arms when Alexia was cooing with someone else.

It never worked out.

In fact, you’ve been single for about four years now and you’re resigned to ending up an old maid in your apartment with your two cats.

You had the misfortune to confide in Mapi about your feelings during an evening a little too alcoholic in which Alexia didn't participate, And since, she reminds you regularly that you should do something to get out of this situation. Alexia never being very clear about it, the tattooed doesn't really know what are the feelings of the blonde for you. But she told you that anyway, if Alexia has romantic feelings for you, seeing you with someone after so many years could make her react.

You don’t believe it for a second, it never has before so you don’t see why it would change today.

********

"You have to do something Y/N, it’s no longer possible" sighs Mapi.

She’s been watching you nibble the black straw of your cocktail for longs minutes, looking gloomy. Alexia has obviously caught the eye of a girl tonight, with whom she has been talking for quite a while.

"What?" You mutter mechanically in return, not listening to her at all, without leaving Alexia’s eyes.

"I feel like I’m having a drink with Wednesday from the Adams Family" complains Mapi

"Let me guess, I should "Try another girls"? "

You use your fingers to mimic quotes, making Mapi’s rolls eyes.

"Clearly. I can feel your tension from here, you need to get laid."

"Oh fuck off Maria" you sigh as you let yourself go against the backrest of your chair. "Just go with your girlfriend and leave me alone"

You finally turned your eyes away from your best friend, but that’s only because she started looking at you. I’d rather swallow your straw right away than be caught looking at her.

After raising her middle finger in your direction, Mapi actually decides to join Ingrid on the dance floor. This doesn't prevent her from fondly tapping on your shoulder when she gets up.

You sigh and decide it’s time to go home. Alexia is no longer where she was and you’re not sure your nerves will stand to see her exchanging kisses with someone else. But when you get up, you are suddenly face with young woman who looks at you with a hesitant look.

"Hi" said the young woman timidly with an uncertain air.

"Hi?"

Her timid smiles is strange, but you let her explain the reason of her sudden presence next to you.

"Um… it’s probably a little weird, but your friend over there told me you haven’t stopped looking at me all night, and you're like kind of cute so…"

You follow the direction she shows you with her head, but you figured it out before your eyes fell on Mapi. The spaniard addresses you a big smile and a sign of the hand, then a wink too exaggerated. You hold back a sigh and turn your attention to the young woman in front of you. Blonde, with some tattoos, taller than you and green eyes. You weren’t looking at her, but you see very well what Mapi wanted to do. She is unbearable.

"Were you going to go home?" continues the blonde, looking at your purse in your hand and your jacket on your shoulders.

"Um… I was, to be really honest with you"

"Would you mind staying while I offer you at least one drink? Not for long, I swear."

You hesitate for a split second, looking at her thoughtfully. She looks nice and deep down she's not responsible of you being desperately in love with your best friend. You briefly bite the inside of your lip before deciding to accept.

"Great!"

After taking your order, Erika (who just told you her name) hurries to the bar. You sit back at the table, waiting for her return and you thank her with a big smile when she's back. You realize with a certain surprise that you actually get along pretty well. Erika has an easy conversation and you catch yourself laughing at what she tells you. If you don’t notice Alexia watching you from the bar where she’s leaning, Mapi doesn’t miss that little detail. Despite Ingrid who asks her to take care of her affairs.

You’ve been talking to Erika for 30 minutes when Alexia comes to sit beside you, putting her hand on your shoulder when she sits next to you.

"Oh hi. I wondered where you’ve been" you smile at her

"At the bar" mumble Alexia.

"Hum, okay" you answer before turning to Erika. "Ale, this is Erika. Erika, this is..."

"Alexia Putellas. I know" Erika smiles in a friendly way before reaching out to Alexia.

Alexia grabs her hand and smiles, but that’s not the kind of smile you like about Alexia. It’s the same kind of smile as when she forces herself on photos, not those that make her eyes shine. You wish you could question her, but you don’t see yourself doing it when Erika is with you.

"Do you want another drink?" Erika offers, putting her hand on yours.

You accept with a smile and she smiles back before getting up from her chair to go to the bar.

"Is everything okay?" You take the opportunity to ask Alexia.

"Why wouldn’t I be okay?"

The answer surprises you, you didn't expect a question back to yours, to be completely honest. Her gaze plunges into yours and you have the impression that it pierces you. You have well understood that something bothers her and as you are about to ask her if it's in relation to the girl with whom she was talking, Mapi lets herself fall loudly in a chair beside you.

"Well then? Where’s your pretty blonde, Y/N?"

"She went back to get us a drink. Besides, wait until I take care of your case" you add pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Oh, no need to thank me, it’s all natural" grins Mapi.

"I hate you" you mumble

"Besides, if I were you, I would join her rather than let her come back to the three of us. Kind of weird to find herself with your two friends."

You also don’t see the annoyed look Alexia gives her, but you’re not sure it’s a good idea. But Mapi doesn’t give you much choice again, forcing you to get up from your chair and push you in her direction. You end up going there and Mapi doesn't wait a single second to turn in Alexia's direction.

"What was that?"

"What?" Alexia groans.

"Your behavior Ale. You were in a good mood until Y/N started talking to Erika"

Alexia answers nothing, shrugging her shoulders before crossing her arms over her chest. Now she's the one looking gloomy.

"Wait, where did she go?"

Alexia’s frenetic gaze travels through the room without being able to find you, which annoys her as much as it worries her. While she's about to get up from her chair to go looking for you, Mapi puts a hand on her arm to prevent her from doing so.

"Alexia."

"You don’t know who this girl is and you’re pushing her in her arms," Alexia abruptly says. "She’s probably not good enough for her, since when do we meet great people in nightclubs? Y/N need someone who bought her flower, take her on romantic dates and who will take care of her. That's not the kind of person you met in here."

Mapi remains silent, for so long that Alexia ends up ripping her eyes from the room to report it on the tattooed girl. Who looks at her with a perplexed look.

"I can’t tell if you’re lying to me or if you’re lying to yourself"

Although Alexia’s jaw is tight, Mapi sees her move distinctly when she looks for the right words to respond.

"I don’t know what you mean"

Mapi snorts at such bad faith, gently shaking her head. Since the captain decided to be stubborn, Mapi decides to talk the facts.

"You’re in love with her, Alexia"

Mapi’s tone is accusatory but Alexia answers nothing to it, her gaze stubbornly fixed somewhere in the room and her arms still crossed.

"Why are you reacting like this? Why is this a problem, Ale?"

"She’s my best friend, Maria. She’s known me since we were six"

"Yes, and what?"

"She’ll never look at me that way. I don’t know when my feelings have changed, but I can’t tell her."

"But why not?" Mapi almost shout

"Forget it" Alexia warns.

Mapi rolls her eyes and decides to let it go for the moment, plunging the two friends into a silence for several minutes. If Alexia remains silent, always looking for you everywhere in the establishment, so Mapi takes the opportunity to check that no one tries to approach Ingrid.

You end up coming back about thirty minutes after Alexia lost sight of you. You’re alone, but she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. At any moment you'll tell them you’re going to leave with Erika.

"Where were you?" asks dryly Alexia, looking at you

"Um… in the bathroom?"

"What? With Erika?" Mapi smirks, almost jumping in her chair. "Did you sleep with her?"

"In the bathroom of a bar?"

You bow an eyebrow with a grimace and the shadow of a smile is born on Alexia’s face, despite her arms still crossed on her chest. Mapi shrugs her shoulders with an innocent face and you don’t want to know what kind of things she made in nightclub's bathroom.

"Where is she then?" insists Mapi

"She’s gone home" you shrug

"Without you? Do you even have her number? Did she kiss you at least?"

You blush and it's finally Alexia who puts an end to your ordeal. You are grateful to her, even if you don't know that it's also to put an end to hers that the Catalan decides to intervene.

"Mapi, stop. Now. I’ll go home too, I’ll take you home, Y/N?"

"With pleasure" you smile affectionately at her.

You get your jacket and purse back for good this time and say goodbye to the other girls before following Alexia to the exit.

You smile when you feel her put a hand between your shoulder blades to guide you to her car, even if you know perfectly where it's parked since you arrived together. It's in silence that you sit in her car and Alexia starts it.

"You didn’t answer Mapi’s question earlier"

Alexia’s observation makes you turn your head in her direction, whereas you were lost in the contemplation of the buildings of Barcelona by night.

"And you blushed. You kissed her?"

You sigh softly before shaking your head negatively. You’re not sure that talking to Alexia is the right thing to do, since it’s exactly because of her that things didn’t go further with Erika. When she tried to kiss you, you panicked and left.

"No" you end up answering, looking out the window with a new found passion.

You miss the relief that passes on Alexia’s face when she hear your answer. She doesn’t need to know why, just to know that nothing happened is enough for her. So it's with a little more joy that she brings you home and with a real smile that she accepts when you offer her to sleep at your home again that night.

"What about you? You didn't tell me what happened with your beautiful stranger" you point out once installed on your sofa with a bottle of water in hand and a shit telenovela on TV.

"Because there is nothing to tell. We just talked"

You just hums, leaning your head against her shoulder. You sigh with happiness when she puts her arm around your waist and you don't hesitate to cuddle up against her. If you have to keep your feelings quiet, at least you have the chance to find some physical comfort from her.

"So it wasn't because of her you were upset?"

You feel Alexia lean slightly against you and you cross her eyes when you raise your head to be able to look at her. There is something special in her eyes and you can't say what it is. It's a first in your life, you like to say that you're one of the people who knows Alexia the best.

"No" answer simply Alexia at first. "I just... I don't know. It was weird seeing you with another girl again"

You shrug, not realizing what she really mean. You are too used to silence your feelings and it has been many years since you have well integrated that Alexia sees you only as a friend.

"I’m not sure I’ll see her again anyway"

"Good. She’s probably not good enough for you"

You answer with a simple shrug again, putting your head back on her shoulder. You don’t realize that Alexia is frying her brain, trying to extricate herself from the conversation you’re in. Seeing you with someone else made her realize that it was time she tried something before it was too late. But she doesn’t know how to make you understand things without being too shocking or surprising for you.

"Maybe I should try Tinder or something" you mumble.

"Don't be stupid. You're better than that"

Alexia’s answer is dry, but you don't even react, imagining that it's only the disgust that this kind of application gives her that speaks. And not the idea of imagining you in the arms of someone else who annoys her prodigiously.

"I don’t have many other solutions left" you point out to her when you stand up to put your bottle of water on the table.

"Maybe you should just… open your eyes?"

"What do you mean, open my eyes?" you ask while arching an eyebrow.

Suddenly, Alexia decides that she's tired of this conversation that goes around again and again. That seems to lead you nowhere. She doesn't want to rush you but gently make you realize the reality of her feelings for you. But she feels like you will never understand.

So, she takes advantage of the fact that you are sitting and no longer lying against her to catch the necklace that she offered you for your birthday, using her index finger to attract you against her. Without you really understanding how, her lips are against yours and the way you feel is even better than you’ve ever imagined.

Alexia’s lips are soft, as you dreamed about it. They taste like her lip balm and not alcohol since she has not consumed it all evening. You briefly wonder if yours tastes like mojito, before this question evaporates when you feel her tongue caressing your lower lip.

From there, the kiss becomes a little more intense and you forget everything else. You’re not even sure you can identify yourself if you’ve been ask when the kiss stop so you can both breath again. You keep your eyes closed for a few seconds, to soak up as much as possible of this moment and not forget the slightest detail.

When you open your eyes, Alexia’s eyes are looking at you with a multitude of emotions. She seems to be as breathless as you. Which is probably a good news, thus testifying that you aren't the only one to be under the blow of this kiss. Moreover you don't fight yourself for long before you let your desire to start again. So you bend in her direction for a new kiss.

Alexia answers it, but takes off from you too fast for your taste. You hear her giggle softly when you whine and your lips chase hers, but you step back when you feel her hand resting on your stomach to stop you. Frowning, you look at her wondering what is more important than enjoying these new sensations.

"I just… before I go on… I mean… it’s not just like that, right? Does it mean anything to you too?" ramble Alexia.

"Of course you do" you smile softly at the blonde’s hesitation "You always meant the world to me, Ale."

"Perfect" smiled Alexia before leaning over you for a new kiss. "Now we can kiss again."

And you do. This one won’t be interrupted by thoughts of one or the other. After all, you’ll have plenty of time to discuss all this tomorrow.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

[etfrin]

↳ ❝NSFW Alphabets | Mike Schmidt❞ˎˊ-

Mike Schmidt x female! Reader

| masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune | request |

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

— would bring you towels and clean you up, a glass of water if your throat gets sore from moaning so much, and cuddle while praising you softly.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

— his eyes because you compliment them so much (HIS EYES ARE SO PRETTY AHHH) but for you, it's your hands, loves to hold them during sex or just in general. It's very comforting for him.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

— loves to cum on your pussy, just something about your folds being smeared with his hot seed gets him going, it's sexy for him.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory)

— would steal your panties to jerk off at work (like in the pizzeria while he's bored out of his mind staring at the cameras)

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

— He had a couple of flings and that's it, his experience is average, body count is perhaps six. So it's a complete 50/50.

F= Favorite position

— RIDING. He gives me a pillow prince vibes sometimes he just wants to lay down as you take your pleasure while riding his cock without him doing much of the work. Also because he loves to suck your tits and see them bounce as you ride his cock so well.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

— hmm, I don't think Mike is the type to be goofy during sex but sometimes he would say something that would make you cackle and he doesn't even know what made you laugh so much.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

— every couple of months he trims.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

— would take his time while fucking you. His way of fucking is sensual, he's relieving so much of his stress while he's thrusting into your cunt. He's making sure to do it nice and slow, taking his time, until his muscles are completely relaxed when he cums.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

— mike would masturbate whenever you're not near, he usually masturbates at his work when he's missing you so much. He takes his phone out and pulls out a picture of yours he had taken or carries one of your used panties on him at all times.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

— edging, bondage (him getting tied), breeding kink, overestimation (receiving and giving), praising kink (receiving), cockwarming. He's so submissive and breedable. Tie him up and ride him until he's shooting loads after loads all the while he's begging that he can't cum anymore but his cock is hard and throbbing inside your walls. You reassure him while saying that a good boy could and would cum once again so who is he to deny you? Nobody, that's who.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

— bedroom or at his work (since it's an abandoned pizzeria who would care), on the days when Abby is in her school, he would fuck you all over the house, the kitchen, the couch, the floor, no place is safe.

M= Motivation (things that make them tick/turn-ons)

— your interactions with Abby. You would talk to her so sweetly even when she's too focused on her drawings. You coax her to talk and eat and just be so sweet and patient with her. You remind him of his family before everything. He wants to have a family with you and rest assured your cunt is gonna be filled tonight.

Honorable mentions: You holding his hand, you praising him or helping him with anything in general. He has been alone for so long, trying to keep everything on his shoulders, even you bringing him breakfast in bed is enough, he would fall for you harder and fuck you even better.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

— anything that's too messy like watersports.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

— he would be so messy while eating pussy. He would suck at your clit too harshly, nipping at the sensitive swollen bud while his digits thrust into your walls. He takes his fingers out and licks them clean off your juices. He would lav at your pussy but he would always give special attention to your clit, he loves it as it swells up and how sensitive it can get so quickly and you have tears falling because you're just so overwhelmed and he repeats the process again and again because something about keep sucking your clit just does it for him.

When you're sucking him off though, he's so gentle about it. In complete contrast while he's eating you. He murmurs your encouragements and he strokes your hair. Giving your mouth shallow thrusts, making sure you don't gag, and warning you before he would cum, letting you decide whether he should cum in your mouth or on your face.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

— unless you beg him to go fast or you're the one controlling the pace, he fucks into you in a sensual, lazy manner. Sex is less about the sexual pleasure for him and more about letting his stress go. Letting off his tense muscles while each thrust just makes him melt in you.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

— unless he's desperate, like in the mornings minutes before he has to drop Abby to school, he isn't much for quickies. Would rather just take his time, if he can't have you at the moment then he would wait until he can.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

— mike is willing to experiment, just not that much. He's very vanilla.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

— since his pace as I mentioned would be pretty darn slow, he could last for hours, he would ignore your pleas to cum with an annoyed sush or his palm over your mouth so your begging is muffled and doesn't influence him. And since he could last for hours, he wouldn't do more than two rounds of sex in one day. He would keep his cock inside after finishing just so he can slowly fuck you again when he stops feeling like jelly.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

— oh! He would use a vibrator on you, especially while eating you. Him sucking on your clit while the vibrator is at its highest setting. He only does it when Abby is having sleepovers with Vennesa (I have obviously decided to ignore the canon events of the movie roll with it) You would be mewling and moaning so much that the neighbors would complain the next morning but it doesn't matter to either of you, not when you squirt on his face and he laps your cum as it flows down past the vibrator.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

— not much of a teaser but would love getting teased when he's in a much more submissive mood. Just keep giving him praises, love bites, and body worship him, he would be such putty in your hands if you knew what to do. He can even cum untouched just from being teased.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

— HE'S A GROANER, HE MOANS AND WHIMPERS AND WHINES. he's a loser so it's canon, he tries his best to stop his sounds, biting his lower until it bleeds, or stuffing his face into the crook of your neck, his mouth onto your pulse, sucking the skin to stop his whines or stuffing his face into the pillow to stop a whimper.

W= Wild card (random sin canon of any sort)

– he had a threesome once with you and Vanessa. He hadn't touched her, not even a kiss, too busy giving you attention. He would fuck your ass as Venassa fucks you with a strap-on. He would get jealous but he cum so hard after seeing the two of you kiss. His ex-crush with his girlfriend, never in life that he thought that would be possible.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

— average girth but a bit tall. Six inches with a brown mushroom tip. Uncut.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

— i wouldn't say he has a high sex drive but at least thrice a week, you're getting dick down by him.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

— after aftercare, it wouldn't take him much longer to sleep, five mins max, he's just so relaxed, he's gonna get the best sleep ever with you in his arms.

A/N : make sure to reblog if you make it till the end!

#scenario #oneshot #character x reader #x reader #x you #fem reader #x female reader #x reader smut #smut #x you smut #mike schmidt headcanons #headcanons #mike schmidt x reader #mike x reader #mike schmidt #mike #michael afton #michael schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf smut #five nights at freddy's #thriller movies #horror movies #josh hutcherson #established relationship #reader smut #video games

[absolutebl]

Best 23 of BL 2023 - Quirky Awards

SHOCK & AWE AWARDS

1. Biggest BL surprise of 2023:

The last 3 months of 2023 in general got my biggest WTF award.

GMMTV fielding OffGun AND TayNew in the same quarter while also airing Last Twilight (arguably one of their best BLs ever)

That they ALSO optioned 3 JBLs

That there's a high heat omegaverse BL staring Pavel

That there were 20 BLs airing and none of them Korean.

With 5 VAMPIRE BLs announced for next year

But my prize in this category goes to My Dear Gangster Oppa.

It's just crazy:

Thai talent, Korean money + IP (this is adapted from a manwha) airing on a Chinese channel (iQIYI). Plus it was GOOD and made smart reuse of a pair who richly deserved it. I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production. And wonder if any other film genre could even do anything like this.

2. The “that country did WHAT?” award:

The 8th Sense from Korea?!

I mean, seriously?! Dealing with metal health, suicide, darkness, therapy, age gap, & first time love BUT FROM KOREA? And then openness and casual boyfriend physical affection? What's next? An actual hard fought coming out narrative with an HEA? Gay domesticity and families?

Careful Korea, you'll strain something. Possibly your own culture and film industry.

I should stop having expectations of Korea, they keep surprising me.

Runners up: Korea letting OnlyOneOf do Bump Up Business not to mention that OmegaX thing. AND Korea adapting Why R U? What are you up to, Korea? Qua? Is this a coded message? Should we send help? Do you need snacks?

3. Biggest casting whoa! where did you come from? award:

GeminiFourth in My School President.

Seriously? Babies what? How did GMMTV find you? How do you exist? How is BL this lucky?

4. That studio did WHAT now? award:

GMMTV putting EarthMix into Moonlight Chicken.

And then doubling down with G4 as the damn sides.

Fucking genius.

5. I’m sad you were ignored award:

Destiny Seeker.

It's just a really fun little Thai pulp, the pairs were good, silly dialogue, plus consent and other good rep. I enjoyed it. No one talked about it AT ALL.

6. 2023 BL That Actually Made Me Lose My Mind Award?

Laws of Attraction. -The casting, the crazy story, the soapy drama! But specifically: Film playing Charn - the range of his smiles alone. GLORIOUS

I mean I Feel You Linger in the Air also sparked something in me, but LoA drove me actually nuts.

NARRATIVE AWARDS

7. Best story 2023:

La Pluie

I know, you're surprised, right? At the time I didn't chat much about it but I really enjoyed the discourse others were having. I love anything that really examines the fated mates (soulmates) trope and the idea of "the one". What a clever way to do that. (This is one reason UWMA is my favorite Thai BL.)

This one reminded me of the way Color Rush approached allegory and that's no bad thing. Such an impressive little piece.

8. Best narrative structure 2023 award:

Unintentional Love Story.

I know this may seem a simplistic pick. But I love the tidiness of this no frills contemporary romance, how the culture of work and personal ethics and corruption fight against the main character's affection and integrity. Poor baby boy is driven into a corner and then punished for it. But it is punishment he feels he deserves, and so it is up to his (now) ex to figure out what went wrong and why.

It's just great. I love it when no one is stupid or wrong, it's just impossible circumstances and unintentional love deeply felt.

9. Best 2023 dialogue (script) award:

Jun & Jun

Never before has Korea laced a BL with that much perfectly executed innuendo. It was a master class. I didn't know you could be that lascivious in Korean, quite frankly. Plus the way the 2 Juns constantly seamlessly transition between formal register (work, public - where they are boss/employee) to informal register (when they are alone and age mates + childhood sweethearts).

Beautiful to hear and watch.

10. Favorite scene 2023:

The dub con scene in I Cannot Reach You because I AM TRASH for an out of control seme. I'm sorry I just AM.

I have said it before, I will say it again, NO ONE DOES THIRST like Japan. And when that thirst bubbles over, it is heart-clenching and very hot.

11. The most rewatchable BL of 2023 award:

Our Dating Sim

That scene where they lie on the floor + the stolen kiss + giggle? Come on, it should be on comfort repeat in war rooms. It could bring world peace.

ACTORS & CHARACTERS AWARDS

12. Best performance of a queer actor in a leading role, 2023:

Fluke in Make a Wish.

It was fun to see him as an irreverent immortal and while I love OhmFluke I also really enjoyed this new pairing. It was a genuine pleasure to watch.

13. Best pining 2023:

The moot pining in Tokyo in April is...

Boys, seriously? Japan must you destroy us like this? Hurts so good.

14. Best wingman 2023 (The Namgoong Award)

Tiw from My School President

I mean, come on, of course it's him!

(Also can you believe Mark went on from this to do fricking Only Friends!? To Last Twilight! Come on GMMTV GIVE HIM A LEAD!)

15. Biggest OMG I LOVE you boys together, YAY!

Dimpled McMafia & Feral Bunny Foo Foo from Kiseki Dear to Me.

They were feral for each other.

We were feral for them

It was a whole delightful THING.

16. Most unexpected return of a BL pair? award:

The Private Lessons pair showing up in Love Class 2.

I know it was only a cameo, but SERIOUSLY? Thank you SO MUCH Korea! A big studio picking up a Strongberry pairing? I love you.

Seriously tho between them, Taiwan & Korea tried for ALL THE CAMEOS this year.

17. Well aren't you two just the prettiest? award:

NetJames in Bed Friend.

Need I say more?

18. LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

Bah Vinh in Vian & Mr Cinderella 2. I did like either show but I loved him in them. Especially the make outs.

Yes you have chemistry with all the boys in Vietnam and you kiss beautifully. But it's okay now honey, you have the crown. Relax, you're stressing us out.

RANDOM PICKS

19. Favorite Linguistic Moment of 2023:

Our Dating Sim

Caught in the act by the elevator scene. OMG it's so funny. They're being such boyfriend shits to each other, and to be caught in the act by THAT character, and try to manifest formal language whole cloth? Hilarious.

Honorable mention to War Peanuts in Destiny Seeker.

20. Biggest disappointment of 2023:

You Are Mine

Seriously Taiwan, AGAIN you disappoint me with an Office BL? You're Taiwan, land of offices and suits. This should be YOUR SETTING TO WIN. And yet... argh. I mean it wasn't bad. But it wasn't good either. Stop it Taiwan, do better.

Runners up? Between Us, Chains of Heart, Dangerous Romance - this was a HOTLY contested category.

+ 2 Winners in the sub-category of FUCK YOU FOR THAT ENDING award:

The Director who Buys Me Dinner - I mean this nicely but: you have your lane now Korea, stop hurting us, that's Japan's responsibility and they do it better.

I Feel You Linger In the Air - I'm just hugely disappointed. Thailand ALMOST got its second 10/10 from me, but that damn ending.

Argh.

21. Best Wardrobe/Prop Use 2023

The shower of packaged bedsheets in My Personal Weatherman

Amazing. Brilliant. No notes.

22. Best Queer Rep 2023

Chot in Step By Step

In fact, all the queer characters in this show were treated with great integrity.

AND props to this cast for refusing to do fan service. GOOD FOR YOU! Fuck those sasang wankers.

Runners up? The found family cast of Love in Translation and the Rainbow Rice Cakes in The New Employee.

23. Best Meta Trope call out

Tin Tem Jai

Come on, what a zinger, but at themselves (and Taiwan)

Final question: which of the 23 was the hardest for me to pick?

Honestly? Question #1 this year. But also question #20.

(Last year: 2022's Version) 

Remember I only pull from shows that were completely finished by the end of 2023. Or The Sign probably would have taken multiple categories. But it will fall into 2024 offerings.

(source)

#best BLs of 2023 #end of year BL awards #my favorite BLs of 2023 #I think this will be my oen awards list this year #My Dear Gangster Oppa #Thai BL #the eighth sense #Korean BL #GeminiFourth #My School President #GMMTV #Moonlight Chicken #EarthMix #Destiny Seeker #laws of attraction #La Pluie #unintentional love story #Jun and Jun #I Cannot Reach You #Japanese BL #Our Dating Sim #Make a wish #fluke natouch #Tokyo in April is... #kiseki: dear to me #Love Class 2 #NetJames #Bed Friend #My Personal Weatherman #Step by Step

[daddyricsdoll]

Benefits ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: Going to Ollie's home for dinner is easy. But being friends like this, has its benefits. In this case Ollie wanted his time home to be better than it already was, starting in his sim chair.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. I think that's all, I don't know if hickeys along breasts count as well.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Based off of this lovely request.

“Hey, welcome.” Terri opens the door and pulls Ollie in for a hug, me seconds after. “It’s been so long. Dinner is still cooking but for now Ollie can show you around. I know you've been here a million times but it’ll give you guys something to do.” She smiles, walking us out of the foyer. We both say hi to the rest of his family, his sister questioning if we’re dating yet. 

“No, of course not. We’re just really good friends.” A grin arises on my face as I look toward Ollie, enjoying the view of him laughing with his younger brother. He seems like such an innocent and sweet boy, which he can be, but then the filthy words he groans in my ear and the way he uses my body says otherwise. 

“Come on, let’s see if they've changed my room yet.” He leads me away, everything getting quiet except for the light padding of our feet against the floor. We both walk in, noticing not a single thing has changed.

“Well that isn’t too exciting. I was hoping they changed it all so I could act sad like they do in movies, and then I’d see an old picture in a frame and all the memories would come rushing back.” I laugh as I walk closer to his sitting body. Grabbing his cheeks and then smacking a kiss on his lips. It was fast and quick, an impulsive decision. But could I say I regretted it? No.

I turn away from him and walk into my favourite room of this house– the simulator room. It’s where we would usually hangout. He would be on the sim and I’d watch, it went on for hours which makes me think how I even managed to stay there for long. 

“I knew you’d be here.” A familiar British voice emits into the room.

“Well where else would I be? I’m not going into your parents room.” His chucklee fills the silence of the room as he walks toward the sim. m as he makes his way to the sim chair. 

“Still feels the same.” He sits back and stretches his arms out to the steering wheel. I walk closer to him sitting in it he lets out a sigh. “Still feels the same.” 

“Is that good or bad?” I walk closer to him, legs brushing against his body and the chair. 

“I don’t know.” Ollie grabs me by my thighs and pulls my body onto his. “Would you like to make it better?”

I drag my finger down his face and neck, trailing down his chest. “And how might I do that?” I bite on the side of my bottom lip, keeping it tugged between my teeth as my eyes roam over his face. Ollie doesn’t say a word, instead he grabs my hips and adjusts my body so I straddle on his lap.

His mouth makes contact with my skin, lips lazily parted as he drags it along my skin, forcing my breath to hitch and head to incline toward the ceiling. Going down my throat and toward my cleavage, hands along my sides before he starts undoing the button and zip of my pants. I lift my hips to help him take it off easier before he mirrors his actions on himself. 

“We’ve got to be quick, and quiet.” He says in advance to capturing my lips with his. Ollie grabs me by my thighs and holds me in the perfect position before he helps lower me onto his dick. Easily sliding onto him. I begin to take control, letting him lean against the chair and watch me as I try to control my moans.

Biting my lip and sliding my hand up my top. Ollie holds my hips then waist, moving higher each second and lifting my top. Quickly removing my hand so he can take up the job, rolling my nipples with his thumb.

“Fuck. They don’t know, their sweet little boy is getting fucked on his sim chair.” I manage to say between pants. Rolling my hips and feeling him hit the spot endlessly. Groans and moans coming out of his mouth. “They don’t know I’m gonna fill you up and the only thing you’ll think about is my dick.” I become speechless at his words, only moans leaving my lips. 

Oliver steals the control from me, leading my body as it moves up and down, meeting his and making our skin slap together. He pulls me in closer, attacking my neck with kisses, trying to control himself from marking my exposed skin. So instead he lifts my shirt and covers my breast with his lips, planting love bites and claiming territory that isn’t his. 

My nipples so sensitive and climax creeping up on me, all it takes is his tongue teasing my breasts and the roll of my hips to knock me off and release. 

I hide my face in his neck, with hopes the sounds that come out of my mouth become muffled. Ollie pushes my body into him. My unclothed skin rubbed against his clothed. 

He holds my ass tightly as he releases; Coming with a groan from deep in his throat.

I ride both of our highs out, the room smelling of sex and the sound even louder. 

Ollie helps me off him before going to the bathroom to grab a cloth. I sit on the sim chair with my legs wide open as he cleans me with precision. The only thing on my mind being his dick– oh I hate that he was right– and how amazing it would be if he were mine.

“Friends do this… right?” I ask, watching him look up at me with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” Words uncertain, but I’ll trust him. 

He finishes cleaning me, soon doing the same with himself.

“Guys, dinner is ready!” Ollie’s mum shouts, making us both realise the situation and rush to aim to look normal. 

“Ok, we’re coming.” Ollie says back, running his fingers through his hair and waiting for me before walking down the stairs looking like two friends, who have lost the definition of friends and call it benefits.

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman smut #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman #oliver bearman #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x y/n #f1 smut #f2 smut #f2 fluff #f2 fanfic #f2 fic #f2 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 2 #formula 1 smut

[bookshelf-dust]

all the time

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 7,206

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, family drama, best friends to lovers type beat (lemme know if i missed anything, as always)

a/n: this got pretty long, and i’m sorry about that. i put a steve option in my 1k celebration poll, and i haven’t been able to get over it, so that’s what this is. i thought i could try it out. i haven’t really had this much fun with a fic in a long time. i know my steve audience isn’t as big, but i guess there’s a chance someone might like it.

————

The crumbs from your crackers drop into your lap, the crease of your book catching them. You set your spoon back down, flipping the hardback over to ensure no crumb will be left lingering in between the pages. 

You’re curled into the end chair at the table, just as always, legs crossed and book nestled against your bare legs. Your parents sit across from each other, talking about whatever, but you aren’t listening. 

You dunk a cracker in your soup, holding it there for a moment to let it soak up the broth, before tossing it into your mouth. You continue on this way—alternating between scooping up noodles or chicken and drowning saltines—until you have nothing left but the dregs in your bowl. 

You mark the page in your book, tuck it under your thigh. You’re tipping the bowl backwards, drinking the rest of the soup, when your mother says your name loudly enough to tear you from your stupor. 

You swallow and wipe your mouth haphazardly with a napkin. “What?”

“Your father and I were just talking about your sister’s wedding.”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering if she’s actually being serious. 

“No shit.”

Your father sets his cup down, glaring at you. “Language.”

“Sorry,” you say, though there’s no real meaning in the word. 

Your sister has told practically every goddamn person in Hawkins that she’s getting married at the end of the month. Everyone is talking about her wedding. A wedding that you don’t give one singular fuck about. 

She’s marrying her high school sweetheart, they’re moving into a sweet new house in the suburbs, blah blah blah. She’s doing the same shit every other peaked-in-high-school woman her age is doing. And you can’t be bothered to care. 

Not only that, but you have to be a bridesmaid. You’re not very close with your sister, so her choosing another friend as her maid of honor really didn’t hurt you. Frankly, you would’ve been fine if she’d left you out of the bridal party completely. 

None of this is really as spectacular as everyone’s made it out to be. 

“Anyhow,” your mother begins, “you know she’s allowing her guests to bring a plus one.” She pauses, and you raise your eyebrows again, not understanding the need for dramatics here. 

“Well, she asked if you were going to bring someone, and I told her that you were.”

You push back from the table, entirely too confused. “What?”

“Honey, don’t get so frantic. I didn’t think you would want to be alone, especially considering your attitude towards the entire function.”

You take a deep breath, pressing your fingers into your eyelids. 

“I thought you could bring that boyfriend of yours. Actually, that’s what I told her. She’s already put in the name for a place card.”

“Mom, are you out of your mind?” 

She gasps, taking a sip of her wine to gather herself. Your father chooses this moment to begin clearing up the table. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” you exclaim. 

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean? I told her you’d bring that boy, Steve. You spend an awful lot of time with him for him to not be your boyfriend.” 

You feel like you’re choking on air. Like your dinner is going to come up if she doesn’t cut this out. “That’s because he’s my friend!” 

“You’re always with him, sweetie. Much more than I ever was with any of my male friends.” She clearly doesn’t believe that he’s not your boyfriend. Like it’s impossible that he isn’t.  

You shove past her and into the kitchen, utterly exasperated. Why are people making decisions for you? Why is your mother suddenly proclaiming to everyone that you’re in a relationship you didn’t even know you were in?

When you turn around from facing the sink, both of your parents are staring at you. “What now? Something else you’ve told the whole damn town about me?” 

Your mother reaches out to you, but you brush her off. You’re a little too pissed for any sort of cooing right now. 

“I’m sorry I assumed he was your boyfriend, honey. But you have to bring him, or else the family will ask questions and there will be an empty space next to you. Personally, I’d find that embarrassing.”

You push your way out of the kitchen, more than done with this situation. “You’ll be lucky if I even go to the damn wedding. And, personally, I wouldn’t go blabbing about things I’ve just assumed about my own daughter rather than just talking about them with her.”

When you turn down the hall, your father is rubbing his forehead, and your mother is looking at you like you should be grateful for her having assured you have company for the big event. 

“This could be good for you!” she shouts, and your only response is the slam of your bedroom door. 

In hindsight, of course the slam was childish, but you really can’t believe your mother. 

You’ve never been so frustrated with her in your life. And yeah, you’ll go to the wedding, but what gave her the right to do that? This is your life. Not hers. 

Normally, you would call Steve about something like this, but shit, you can’t. 

Steve. As your boyfriend? 

That’s too much for your brain to handle right now. You throw yourself on the bed and call it a night. 

————

“So, let me get this straight,” Robin begins, holding up her hands so as to count off your main points. “Your mother just told everyone that you have a boyfriend, that this boyfriend is Steve, of all people, and that he’s your plus one to your bitchy sister’s wedding?” 

The countertop is cold when you press your forehead against it. “Yes,” you whine. 

You’d gotten up first thing this morning and head to Family Video, needing to spill your guts to the one and only person who would surely match your energy and try to help you handle the situation. 

Your arms are laid out in front of you, hands dangling over the edge of the counter and reaching for Robin on the other side. She grabs hold of them and squeezes. “That’s one hell of a pickle you’re in. But! Lucky for you, I’m gonna help you figure it out.”

You squeeze her hands back, only to jerk your head up at an alarmingly fast rate. Robin cringes like you’re going to give yourself whiplash. You’ve just had an absolutely terrifying thought.

“Steve’s not working today, is he?”

Robin tries to think off the top of her head, but there are too many thoughts rambling around in there, so she’s quick to consult the schedule pinned to the wall behind her. She probably could’ve told you the times of each of his shifts if only you hadn’t asked. 

“He won’t come in until this afternoon. Three-thirty, to be exact.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank fuck. I’m not ready to see him yet. He’s going to notice something’s wrong and then he’ll want to talk about it and then it’ll just be a big fat shit show.”

Robin props her chin up with her hand, elbow resting against the green countertop. “You know, maybe that’s a good thing. He already knows you so well that he’ll probably make a great boyfriend.”

“Robin, what?” 

She’s plotting and you’ve never felt more afraid. 

“Well, you can’t just not take him to the wedding after all of this, right? It would be ten times messier now that your mom has told all of Hawkins that Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. And you know he’ll agree to go, being ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ and whatnot. Besides, you’ve gotta admit that there’s chemistry between the two of you.”

You go to speak, but she holds a hand up to stop you. 

“So you tell him about your little predicament, and maybe he can just act as your boyfriend for the night?” She smiles nervously, shoulders rising in slight fear of your reaction. “You two are best friends, no one’s bound to be the wiser.”

“Robin, are you suggesting that I just fake-date the man?”

She raises her hands in a don’t-shoot-the-messenger gesture. “What’s the harm in it? It’s just a one time thing. You go, you get it over with, and Steve will be there the whole time. It’ll be totally fine.” 

You drag your hands down your face, peeking at her through your fingers. This is insane. This is fucking delusional. But it could work, couldn’t it?

A customer comes in, and you step to the side while Robin helps them at the counter. Chemistry? Maybe Robin’s right. Not that you’d ever tell her that. 

Last Valentine’s, Steve showed up at your place after dark, flowers in hand, knowing full well that you hate the holiday. “I just wanted you to feel special,” he’d said. “And I love you and everything.” You’ve been saying that to each other for forever it seems. And you mean it. He’s your best friend. But now you’re wondering if maybe he means it in a different way. Or if that’s just what you want to think. 

Steve doesn’t know that you pressed a few of the flowers to keep, or that you’ve saved the stubs from the movies you’ve seen together. You think about how he holds your hand on the way up the theater stairs, keeping you from tripping and spilling popcorn everywhere. How he offers to go out with you when you need to be away from home, not wanting to leave you alone. That he takes your bag from you the second he notices you adjusting it, straps digging into your shoulder. 

Your hands start to sweat, and you feel like this could either go just as Robin’s told you, or it could go really fucking badly. 

“Hello? Anyone home?” Robin’s voice breaks you out of your stupor. She’s waving her hand in front of your face. 

“Listen honey, I can see your brain working from here. I know you’re coming up with every possible way that this could go wrong. Just talk to him! It might go really well. You never know.”

Robin boops you on the nose and starts to walk towards the staff room. It’s her way of signaling that you need to get your shit together. 

“Good luck! I love you!”

You grab your keys and make for the door, flipping her off as you go. She only blows a kiss in response.

————

You’d been pacing your room when Steve called and offered to take you to the bookstore. Really he just wanted to spend time with you, and you needed to spill your guts. You spent an hour contemplating calling him, going over to see him, maybe even just cutting yourself off from him as a whole. In fact, cutting yourself off from the world had crossed your mind, but he’d since prevented that. 

Now Steve hovers behind you while you wander down an aisle filled with mystery novels. None of them are catching your eye.

There’s a warmth behind you, and you look up to see Steve. He reaches above your head, one hand on your waist, and pulls something down. He flips it around in his hands before holding it out to you. “What about this one?”

Surprisingly enough it does sound vaguely interesting. “You have to read it after I do.”

He grins. “Yes ma'am.” 

And we will read it. You know that he will because he’s done it before. He’s sat on your couch and blabbed about books to you, whining about this character, asking you a question about that plotline. Robin’s voice chirps in your head. Chemistry. Shit. 

Steve takes the book back from you. He never lets you carry anything. 

You walk further into the store, your feet carrying you to the same places they always do. You end up in a quiet corner, and your heart rate picks up. Not telling him is only hurting you more. You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I gotta tell you something.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the end cap. “Shoot.”

“You know how my sister is getting married?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’d say I’m familiar with the event.”

You’d smile if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you might puke at any moment. “Well she decided that guests could have a plus one.” Steve hates the way he warms up at that. At the fact that he wants you to take him. He nods, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well my mother decided to tell everyone that I’d bring you. As my boyfriend.”

Steve coughs, and your head jerks in his direction. “Your boyfriend?”

You press your hands together. “Yeah. She said she assumed that we were dating because we’re always together, and when my sister asked if I’d be bringing someone, she just told her that it would be you.”

You make eye contact with Steve. His cheeks have gone red. “So naturally, she’s already had your nameplate printed. And now, what I’m saying is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to my sister’s wedding with me.” The last part spills out of your mouth faster than you’d intended. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you start to panic. It’s as if you’ve been sent into overdrive, like every sense in your body is on high alert. If this goes wrong, Robin’s ass is grass. 

You back into the corner of the aisle, book spines pressing into your back. “I realize I said I need you to do this, but I should have prefaced it by saying that of course you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to–”

“I’ll do it.”

Steve pushes his hair back from his forehead. 

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

“Steve, are you sure?”

He’s moving into your personal space bubble, hands grasping for your arms where you’ve tucked them behind your back. He pulls them out, hands sliding down your forearms until he’s got your hands in his. His palms are warm, and you can’t help but notice how big his hands are. There’s a ring on his pinky finger too, and it takes you by surprise, considering he’s not usually one for jewelry. You’ll have to ask him about it later, assuming you survive this. 

“I’m sure. I’m not just going to let you show up after your mom did all that shit. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, if you ask me. But I promise, I don’t mind. I’ll go and be your boyfriend. I don’t know how good I’ll be, but hey…we’ll see.”

You pull your hand away to smack him on the arm. He winces like you’ve brutally wounded him. 

“Don’t you dare say that, Steven. You’d make an excellent fake boyfriend. And a kickass real one. Don’t let me hear that shit again.”

You let go of him and start to walk away. 

Steve chuckles. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll beat your ass, Harrington. And you’d definitely lose that one.”

He catches up to you and his hands find your waist again, though he struggles to hold on when you’re continually moving.

“Hey,” he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out at you. “Not fair.”

You look back up at him and reach up to pat his cheek. It’s warmer than you’d expected, and still all rosy. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s not very nice of a fake girlfriend.” 

You snort. “Ha! I guess my fake girlfriend skills aren’t up to the great Steve Harrington’s standards.”

“You’re being so mean to me today.” He rests his chin on your shoulder while you pick through a sale pile. 

“Only yanking your chain, dearest.” 

He chuckles, and you can feel his breath against your neck. 

You start to wonder if maybe everyone has a point. You do spend the majority of your time with Steve, and you are touchy, but that’s just the kind of person Steve is. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed physical touch from another person, even when it’s the most mundane action, until him. Robin is the same way, always holding your hands or leaning on you. They’re spoiling you. 

But the more you think about it, the more you realize that you’ve started to crave Steve’s touch when he’s not around. At night when you feel lonely, when you’re staring at the ceiling and letting your thoughts engulf you, you wish he was there to give you a hug. You wish he was there when you’re eating lunch alone and his leg isn’t pressed against yours under the table. You miss the warmth and the weight of him beside you on the couch. It’s like there’s a part of your brain that’s reserved for him, and suddenly you’re worried that this fake dating Steve thing might be the worst decision you’ve ever made. 

————

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, and I’m going to leave this with you until the masquerade is complete so that both of you morons have a reminder of your agreement.”

Robin sits on Steve’s couch, white board in hand. She’s brought way too many markers with her. She decided it would be best if you and Steve had a list of things that are acceptable for your temporary fake romance. She also insisted she be moderator. 

“Masquerade? Is that really what we’re calling this?” Steve looks at you.

“No. It’s not.”

“Both of you! Focus!” Robin uncaps a marker and throws the lid at Steve. He catches it. “Now, what kinds of things are okay to do during this little performance? I’m talking, hugging, handholding, kissing, the lot of it. Now shoot.”

Steve looks at you again. “What do you think? This is your family that we’ll be around.”

Your knee starts to bounce.

The majority of your little charade will be during the reception, and having to stand during the ceremony is saving you much more trouble than you’d realized. You never thought you’d be grateful to be a bridesmaid. But now there’s the added pressure of knowing Steve will be watching you then, that your family will be watching the both of you afterwards. 

Steve catches your shaking leg and is quick to put a hand out to steady you. He knows you’re nervous. 

“See? That’s good. Believable.” Robin is staring at the two of you, or more specifically, at where Steve’s hand rests on your knee.  

Steve pulls his hand back. “Okay, so we can hold hands?” you say, questioning yourself already. “You can touch me, like that or like you usually do.”

“I can do that. Hands, arms, back. That alright?”

You start to warm up. “Yeah, that works. What about you? I don’t want to be too handsy or anything but it might be weird if I don’t touch you at all.” 

Steve sits back in his chair while Robin scribbles away, her bulletpoints little stars. There are two sides, one for each of you. 

“All of that is fine with me too. I really don’t mind, and I think you know I like physical affection. But you know when you like, hang on my arm sometimes? I really like that.”

Robin smiles brilliantly. “That’s good! Makes you look super lovey-dovey.” She jots it down under Steve’s name. 

You try not to let it show, but Steve’s words are running rampant in your head. I really like that. He does? You hadn’t realized it before. 

“What else?” Robin asks. “Kissing? How do we feel about that?”

“Uh—I hadn’t really thought about it,” you tell her. And you hadn’t. The thought of Steve kissing you at all, other than the top of your head like he’s done before, makes you feel like your heart has just dropped out of your ass. “But I suppose it’d be weird if we didn’t at all, you know?” 

You’re looking at Steve, hoping he’ll feel the same way, searching for some sort of consolation. 

“No, yeah, that’s a good point.” He’s quiet for a moment before continuing, “What about your cheeks and forehead and stuff? Maybe the face is fair game? And you can do the same for me.”

You wipe your palms across your thighs. Kissing Steve. Steve kissing you. You’re losing your shit. 

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. That works.” You’re amazed that you’ve even managed to get the words out. 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you know?” Steve’s expression is soft. You know he’s being serious with you. 

“I know. And I don’t want to make you feel that way either. I want this to be a perfectly comfortable evening.”

“And I’m sure it will be!” Robin claps her hands together, setting her board down against the couch cushions beside her. 

She stands abruptly. “Basically you’re just behaving like you normally do, but with a little more hands-on action, you know?”

Steve quirks a brow, taking a furtive glance at you. “What do you mean, like we normally do?”

Robin moves towards her best friend and crouches, taking his hands in hers. “Uh…what are you doing?”

“Listen, little Stevie, you’re a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you’re always all over the lovely lady to our left. You can’t deny that.”

“I mean—yeah.”

Robin nods her head. Steve struggles to keep eye contact with her, knowing you’re watching the interaction.

“And you’ve rubbed off on her! She wasn’t really like this before you, Harrington.”

This time he jerks his head towards you. “Really?”

He’s thinking about your hugs, how you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze. About how you always take his hand when he offers it, or how you'll toss a leg over his on the couch. Any other sort of behavior would feel strange.

You feel yourself go all warm. Feel your chest squeeze. You’re forgetting how to breathe. She’s completely right. Steve has brought out a side of you that you swore you didn’t have. The side that longs for affection. Maybe more. 

You nod your head at him.

“Yeah,” Robin says, “Most I’d get out of her was some hand holding before you came around.” 

She releases Steve from her grasp and rises once again. 

“But my point is, you two are going to make a fantastic fake couple. And maybe even an excellent real one.”

Steve face palms. “Robin.”

“Sorry, sorry! Make sure to take pictures for me, alright? I’ll be so sad to miss this happening in person.”

Steve stands, grabbing Robin’s bag for her. “Yep. Alright. See you later, Rob.”

He looks at you with what you’re quite positive is fear in his eyes. He leads her to the door, and you can’t help but chuckle, even if you’re nervous as shit, as he reassures her that there will be pictures, and that you’ll tell her all about it. 

————

“Just hang it up on the doorframe, and then you can hold stuff up to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

You sit cross legged in the center of Steve’s bed, watching him rummage through his closet. He’s going to knock your dress on the floor if he doesn’t quit his frenzy. 

You’d told him it wasn’t necessary that he coordinate his outfit with yours, but he insisted, so you brought your dress over for him to see. Steve has a feeling that when he sees you in it he’s going to lose his shit, not that he can tell you that. 

“You know, I never thought these would be useful. But I guess your asshole dad dragging you to business events pays off sometimes.”

Steve lifts a bunch of hangers from the rack and pulls them out of his closet, setting them on the bed beside you.

“Fancy,” you say, smirking.

He rubs his hand over his chin, the other braced against his hip. “Yeah.”

You can tell he’s a little frazzled at this. The reminder of dressing himself up to be paraded around by his father—a father who doesn’t spare Steve a second when not in the public eye. 

You hate that you’ve made him dig up all these memories. 

“They all fit okay?” you question. 

He nods, that one insistent lock of hair slipping free. He pushes it back before you have the chance to. 

You slide off the side of the bed and stand. You gesture for him to sit and that gets a smile out of him. 

After he’s settled, you lift each suit up one by one, seeing which matches the blue of your dress best. You’re only glad that your sister picked a nice shade: a dark, rich midnight blue. The kind you’d be able to spot from far off in a department store and need to take a look. 

You get to a sort of soft gray one, and Steve stops you. You hook it up on the doorframe beside your dress. 

“I think that looks nice, yeah?”

You walk backwards until your spine meets Steve’s knees. You brace yourself, hands on his calves. His chin meets the top of your head because of how high up the bed is. 

“I like it a lot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and you can feel the puff of air against your scalp. He’s warm, his presence all around you. His cologne, maybe his shampoo if you let yourself fall in between his legs. But you don’t. You stand. 

“Looks pretty solid to me,” you tell him, though your grin falters just slightly enough for him to catch it.

He puts a gentle hand on your cheek, making sure you keep your eyes locked on his. 

“Hey. It’s gonna be great, okay? You’re going to kill it in that dress. Probably kill me, actually,” he laughs. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

“Alright, Steven.” You’re trying not to over-analyze that comment. This is not the time to get sweaty. 

He stands up, hand sliding down from your cheek to cover your collarbones. You wrap your arms around his back on instinct, and you swear you see him blush as he moves to encircle you in his own. 

“Does being your fake boyfriend mean your incessant picking has only gotten worse?” 

You rest your forehead against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. You think about how nice it might be to do this all the time. What it might be like if he weren’t your fake boyfriend, but your real one. 

“Mhm,” you mumble. “I plan on continuing it, too.”

Steve’s hands run up and down your back. 

“I look forward to it,” he whispers. There’s a part of you that knows he means it.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped looking at you since you met him at the door to the wedding venue. 

You’d run down, more than happy to have company that wasn’t your sister's bitchy bridal party. 

He stands with you now, waiting until he’s allowed to take his seat, and you can feel his eyes burning into you. 

Not that you’re any better than he is. 

His suit fits him just right, and every time he pushes his hair around, you watch his shoulders move under his jacket. It’s driving you insane. And he’s wearing that fucking ring again. Except this time, there’s also one on the middle finger of his opposite hand. 

The sun is hitting him just right, turning his eyes this amber color. It’s mesmerizing. You notice then that his tie is the same blue as your dress. 

“Steve?”

“Hm?” 

“Did you have that? Just lying around?” 

He follows your gaze to his chest. No, he absolutely didn’t. He ran out and picked one up in a shade as close as he could get it to yours. Wearing something that felt like a piece of you had his mind abuzz. Abuzz with you. 

It’s the same way he feels about these rings Robin bought him. She said you were into them, always talking about Steve’s hands or something. He’s started to like them, but really it’s for you. Most things are. 

“Yeah. I found it in a drawer.”

Robin would slap him if she were here. He doesn’t know why he lies, but he does. And then you’re blushing and he’s got to sit down. He squeezes your hand one last time, an encouraging gesture, but one that has so much more buried beneath it.

The ceremony thankfully goes quickly for you, and you’re grateful, hating having to stand up there like you give a shit, like your sister is some saint. 

For Steve, it’s the slowest wedding he’s ever been to. You look so fucking gorgeous and he can’t keep it together. He barely even pays attention to the wedding, too busy looking at you. The way your indifference shows on your face, even if you know you’ll hear about it later. The way your hands wrap around the little bouquet you’ve been given. The way the setting sun sets your skin alight, and he thinks that you might truly be the death of him. 

When the ceremony has concluded, when Steve is looking for you in the reception hall, he realizes he has to tell you so. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are. He’s beating himself up for having said you looked ‘great,’ and that was all. 

You spot him first, and rush to him like you had before, anxious to be near him. 

“My mother is looking for me,” you tell him.

“You want to get some air?” His hand finds the small of your back, already leading you away from the crowd and just outside the doors. 

“You’re such a good fake boyfriend.”

You suck in a breath of cool air, shake your hands out. 

Steve smirks, hands moving up to massage at your shoulders before he even has a chance to give the action a second thought. “Just knew you’d like to get away is all.”

Knew. 

The word hits you and you feel like you’ve been slapped. Goddammit, Robin. She’s been in your head all day, and you’ve done nothing but pick up on the little things Steve does for you, the things he seems to know about you, that make him so much more than just a best friend. 

You’re fucked. 

“Thank you, Steve. For that, and for coming to this. It means a lot to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’d do it again.”

He’s looking at you with such fondness, and you have a feeling he wants to say more. You grab hold of one of his wrists, locking your eyes with his in hopes that it will communicate the message. Go ahead. 

He exhales. This sort of thing used to be so easy for him, but it’s never been that way with you. He knows it’s because you aren’t just some chick he wants to take out. You’re everything. And he’s fumbling for words. 

“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” You squeeze his wrist, and he continues, albeit with a shaky voice. “I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful.”

A smile creeps up and onto your face before you can stop it. 

“I mean, you always look beautiful, b-but tonight you’re just—stunning. Like, totally breathtaking. Don’t let anyone hear this, but I’d even say you look better than the bride.”

You let out a laugh then, the kind that comes straight from your belly, rich and sickly sweet. It makes Steve laugh, too. He can’t believe you. You’re unbelievable. 

“Sorry, Steve, I just–fuck that was so funny.” You straighten up, putting your serious face back on. “Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m serious, you know. You’re gorgeous.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lips warm and plush against your skin. 

You go all warm and fuzzy inside. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, just because he can. 

“You look pretty too, you know.” 

Steve blushes at your comment, and it’s at this very moment that your mother’s voice rings out, “Sweetie! Come in here, people want to see you!”

Fear flashes across your face, any trace of the sweet flirtiness there seconds before having vanished. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve says, watching you gesture towards your mother, telling her you’re on your way.  “Let’s do this, yeah?”

You make eye contact with him, and he grabs hold of your hand, weaving his fingers between yours. “Yeah.”

————

“So, how’d the two of you meet?”

You’re surrounded by a crowd of women, some are your family–your mother and sister–some women you’re not even sure you know. 

“School.” Steve saves you from having to speak first. “We went to high school together, but we met through a mutual friend.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “Robin,” you tell her. 

“Oh! What a lovely young lady.”

Steve snorts and you slap him on the back. Not that anyone could’ve seen it with how close he’s got you pressed to his side. “Yep,” Steve coughs, “She’s great.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hoping it’ll give him a moment to suppress his smile. Your sister steps away from her friends, catching the action. 

“So, Steve, does she treat you okay? I know my sister can be a bit frantic sometimes.” You watch your mother down the rest of her wine, and you know she’s hoping nothing breaks out between the two of you like it has plenty of times before. 

Steve’s arm wraps more firmly around you, his hand coming to rest on your hip. Everyone has their eyes locked on you, waiting, hoping that Steve will spill some sort of secret that they can spread throughout Hawkins like wildfire. Nothing beats good gossip around here. 

He squeezes your hip, and for a split second you think the gesture might be possessive. Protective, even. 

“She does. Your sister is considerate and thoughtful, and she’s the best woman I know. I’ve never felt more comfortable than I do with her. And if she’s ever frantic, it only helps her deal with me when I’m the same way.”

You feel like you could pass out. Because you know he meant every damn word of that. You know he isn’t lying. 

Your sister looks between the two of you. “Well, I suppose that’s good to hear.” Her smile is nothing but insincere when she walks off to greet another wedding guest. 

One of your aunts swoops in, and Steve feels you clutch his side a little harder. He has a feeling you’re about to be ridiculed. 

“Such a lovely day, isn’t it? You two ever think about tying the knot?”

Steve pinks and your hand slips under his suit jacket, clutching at the fabric of his shirt instead. Is this really the time?

“No,” you pipe up. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

The woman frowns at you. “Well, isn’t that silly? You better get around to it sooner than later, honey. Take after your big sister. You won’t be young forever.”

You go to speak, but Steve’s already begun. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have to get married on anyone else’s terms. Hell, she doesn’t have to get married at all, and I can say that in utmost confidence. Maybe back off, okay?” 

Your aunt looks absolutely scandalized, as if she cannot bear to accept what just happened to her. 

Steve starts to lead you away from the group. “Come on, baby.”

Baby. 

Steve called you ‘baby.’

You don’t have time to analyze that though with the way he’s escorting you back outside. He parks you on a bench and starts to pace in front of you. 

“I can see why you didn’t want to do this now. Jesus, are they always like that? I thought my dad’s colleagues were dicks, but my god.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wait—can you call judgmental ladies dicks?”

You snort and bury your face in your hands. “Yes, Steve, I think so.” It comes out muffled, but he hears it all the same. 

When you look up, Steve is staring at you, and he’s much closer than he had been. He starts to say something, but both your mother and sister have shown up, looking for you. 

“Sweetie! What are you doing out here?” Your mother looks frazzled, and maybe a little tipsy. You knew your sister would be a bitch on her wedding day, but apparently your mother hadn’t yet realized.

“Escaping the mob.”

“Your aunt isn’t entirely pleased with your behavior, I’ve been told.”

You stand up then. “Honestly, mom, I don’t really give a shit. I came to this wedding, like you told me to. I brought, Steve, like you told me to. And I just don’t care anymore. I’m sick of your bullshit.”

She looks aghast, way more than your aunt had. 

You look at your sister, who’s clearly hoping to see you fuck up. 

“Congratulations on fucking yourself over. You’ll have a severely depressing marriage.” 

“C’mon, Steve.”

He takes your hand, and he can’t help but giggle as he follows you out. 

————

“Sweetheart? You comin’?”

You’ve stopped halfway up Steve’s stairs, a far off look in your eyes. He’d brought you back to his place to stay the night, and now that you’re here, it’s like every thought you’ve had about him is fit to burst. This cannot just be a tonight situation. You can’t let this end here. 

You drop your dress where you’d been holding it up to prevent yourself from tripping. 

“Maybe Robin’s right. About the chemistry.”

Steve’s hands go to his hips. He’s got no idea what you’re on about, but the way you’re looking at him is enough to have his heart rate kicking up a notch. “Chemistry?”

“Yeah. She pointed it out. And she said we’d make a fantastic couple, remember?”

He blushes. He hopes this is going where he thinks it is. Tonight has made him realize how much more you are to him than just a friend. He wants you all the time. “Yeah, I remember.”

Your heart is pounding and you feel like you can’t really breathe, but if you don’t say this now, you’re not sure you ever will. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He’s never been so stressed in his life. He’s actually starting to sweat. 

You exhale and push the words out. “I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend. I want you to be my real one.”

He coughs, chokes really, and you move up the stairs towards him to make sure he’s okay and not actually sick over the matter. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprising himself with the ability to speak considering how raw his throat feels. 

“Wouldn’t have said so if I felt otherwise, Harrington.”

There she is, he thinks. You really want him. Just like he does you. He can’t believe it.

“Again with the picking. You’re so mean to me.”

You smirk, your hands finding his sides again. You seem to have some attachment to them, and Steve wonders if it’s because you know there are scars underneath. If you’re telling him more than what you can bear to say. Giving him a glimpse of all you have to offer him, all the love you might hope to share. 

“I’ll show you mean, you little shit.”

You press your lips against his before you can second guess yourself, before you let that little voice win. 

Steve hums in surprise, but it’s clear he’s not upset by the gesture with the way he responds to your touch. His hands find your neck, thumbs stroking over your cheeks. 

He’s kissing you back, and fuck if he’s not trying to tell you everything he’s been feeling. 

When you pull away for air, Steve’s too greedy to let you go. He pecks your lips once, twice more, and when he really can’t breathe, he peppers your face instead. Now that you’ve given him the chance, he seriously can’t get enough of you. 

“Damn.”

You laugh, and push that strand of hair back where it goes, this time getting to it before he can. 

You take Steve’s wrist in your hand. It’s late. You hadn’t realized how worn out you were, but you are. 

“Can we go to sleep?” you ask, searching his brown eyes. His lashes are unfairly long, but you’ll have to berate him about it later. 

“Do I get another one of those before bed?” He’s already hauling you up the stairs, wanting you settled. 

“If you’re good.”

————

���So when did it happen?” Robin’s voice is almost accusatory.

“What?”

You’re standing close enough to Steve to ensure that you can hear Robin on the other side.

“When did this love confession take place?”

“That’s not what it was—”

“Just tell me when, dingus!”

“Last night, after we got home. She told me she didn’t want it to be fake anymore.”

“Shit!”

Steve rolls his eyes. You fuss with the belt loops on his jeans, trying to figure out what she’s been up to. “What did you do?” he asks. 

“I owe Dustin twenty.”

“You bet on us?” Your voice is loud enough that she hears it, and you know she’s cringing even if you can’t see it.

“Maybe? Yes. I bet that you’d give up the act later than that, that you two would be cowards about it. Figured you’d both wallow in self pity for a while before you just came out and said how you feel.” 

Steve looks at you, and mouths: Are you hearing this?

Robin keeps going. “Dustin said you’d come to your senses quicker than that. He bet on the wedding day specifically. Goddamnit!” 

You take the phone from Steve, and his forehead meets your shoulder. You can feel the way he shakes with laughter. 

“Thanks for having so much faith in us, Rob.”

She chuckles. “What? You’re both extremely good at lying to yourselves. I expected this to be much more dramatic.”

“Mhm,” you start, a plan forming in your mind. Steve can almost feel it. “Hey, Robin?”

“Yes?”

“Just for that, I’m calling in sick for Steve today. That shift is all yours.”

“No. Nononono—”

You hang up the phone. That means there won’t be the buffer that is Steve Harrington to prevent Robin having to interact with Keith. She’ll be stuck with him all evening. 

“That was just cruel,” Steve laughs. 

You cross your arms. “Oh, so you wanna go in then?”

He smiles at you and holds his arms out. You move into the circle of them. His hands find your waist and squeeze. “No, I didn’t say that. I haven’t had a day off in months.” 

“So quit whining.”

“See? I’ve only been your real boyfriend for like, a matter of hours, and you’re still being so mean to me.”

You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his lips. It seems to appease him. 

“Was that mean?”

“Not at all.” 

You grin and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mean and a tease. Wow.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Only for you, Stevie.”

He takes your face in his hands, fingers pushing gently into your skin. 

“Damn right.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

#savannah’s fics #steve harringtion #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #robin buckley #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington comfort

[chocsra]

"Gentleman, you say?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Reader is implied to be fem!, could still be gn!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Contents: your mafioso roomate being annoying, fifteen era, mafia! reader, pre-relationship, idiots in love, teen romance, fluff, ooc? chuuya (idk)

Sorry for grammar! Not proofread!

Working in the Port Mafia wasn't so hard.

You were granted a new family, money and status. There were a select few members who were noteably young, as young as teenagers. This was mainly because of the gifted, limiting manpower into making criminal organizations choose children as their subordinates.

You didn't really mind it--being a kid in the mafia. It had it's ups and downs, yes, you did murder; but what would you have been really doing if you tried to live as a civilian as a gifted?

One thing you didn't like though--even hated, was the Port Mafia dormitory.

Constant parties, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and cigarettes in hallways, and don't start on the drama. Your only source of peace was the empty unit next to yours--at least that gave some sort of silence in the dreadful nights of Yokohama. Cramped in the tight apartment that secretly held mafioso teenagers, ones which the other residents thought of as school delinquents.

Until that asshole took it; the short ginger boy with a permanent scowl on his face, the boy who had the best style you had ever seen. And you hated it. Ever since you were fifteen, he and his smelly bandaged friend would storm into his apartment; have the loudest arguments--no, fights in the middle of the night.

Before, if you couldn't sleep, a nice cup of hot milk and basking in the night's breeze would do the trick. Now, there was a 50/50 chance he was there smoking on the balcony next to you, alone or with that annoying mummy boy.

It's been a few months since then, and you were sure that he hasn't even recognized you once as his neighbour; and it pissed you off, considering the amount of sleepless nights he caused you. It was safe to say you had one-sided-beef with the boy who used screaming as his fight or flight response.

And because finding someone absolutely insufferable meant asking numerous people about them, you asked a few of your subordinates who were into drama about said boy, eager to learn more information about him. Because he pissed you off, is why.

"Oh, you mean Chuuya? He like, used to be the King of the Sheep before he joined the mafia, I'm pretty sure." Your friend chided, you and a few other girls were standing in front the doorframe of Kouyou's office, all surrounded in a circle. "Really? That's wild." You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. "Yeah, and the guy who recruited him is that emo guy; he's supposed to be Bosses successor, right?" She asks, twirling a strand of her hair. "His name is Dazai, and yeah. They're called 'Double Black' or something." Your other friend joined in.

Just as you were talking, a tall woman with ginger hair and pale skin stepped out of her office; her elegent hands clasped together under her pink kimono.

"What are you girls talking about?" The woman questioned, her hair tightly held up by long gold pins. "[Y/N] was just asking about Chuuya, sis." Your friend replied, you scoffed in response. "I was just asking because he's an annoying neighbour!" The other girls laughed. "Oh, Chuuya, I was recently requested to take him under my wing." Kouyou responded, revealing more information. "Actually? What do you think of him?" One of the quieter girls asked enthusiastically, the woman only chuckled in response.

"He's quite the gentleman, I'll say."

Kouyou's words only echoed in your ears as you lay in bed, a pillow ontop of your chest. "Gentleman.." You repeat, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. "Gentleman my ass!" You kick the wall next to your bed to no avail, tightly wrapping your arms around the pillow. "If he was, he would've seen how tired my eyes are from not sleeping.. and finally shut the fuck up.." You mutter with heavy eyelids. It was around 2 am. And it was one of those quiet nights, thankfully; but you still had trouble falling asleep.

As you were about to finally drift off to sleep, cradling your pillow in your arms; a loud strum of a guitar sprung you awake. It sounded like a electric guitar, and the person playing it had a shit ton of energy. A sultry voice sang melodically as loud waves of music crashed from his guitar. You had an idea of who it was.

Storming out of your cramped apartment, only in a thin t-shirt along with loose shorts, you scrammed over to Chuuya's apartment door angerly. "I swear to God.." You curse under your breath, the damn guitar still audible. Closing your fist, you firmly knock on the boy's door.

Knock, knock

The fast-paced strum of a rock song quickly stopped, light footsteps could be heard behind the steel shaft, before he finally unlocks it.

"Yeah?" The boy cracks the door open, he had his short ginger hair down; and he wasn't wearing the black fedora and choker like he usually did. A red and white electric base guitar slung lightly over his shoulder and stomach, the cord connected to the bottom, leading to what you assumed was his bedroom. Chuuya was wearing loose black sweatpants along with an oversized white t-shirt. Even though the boy was small and lean, you couldn't help but notice the exposed muscles on his forearms. 'Shit.' You cursed at yourself, before meeting his stormy blue eyes once more.

"You're so damn loud all the time, can't you play that at another time of day?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "There are people trying to sleep." It wasn't the safest option to yell at a criminal who had possible connections you had no idea of, but you were also a criminal, and would definitely kick his ass if he tried anything, right?

Chuuya looked at you with a slight frown, but you were right in the end, so he sighed and ran his lithe fingers through his ginger locks. "My bad." He mutters, feeling a bit embarrassed. "That's all you can say?" You murmur, you felt a little bad, but he was the waking cause of your terrible eyebags. "You could be a little more quiet next time." You add on, looking off to the side.

"Yeah, I know. My fault." The redhead said, apologizing begrudgingly. You only sighed and assured it's okay now before you soon left. Knowingly storming off into your apartment as the boy watched you with guilt yet irritation on his face.

Although the next morning, you rubbed your eyes and opened the door to take out the trash. Only noticing a small box infront of your doorstep with a yellow sticky note on it, you crouched down to properly read it.

'Sorry we had to meet that way, neigbour. Take this as a peace offering.

- Chuuya N.'

As you opened the box curiously, it was homemade packaged bento, along with a small corgi made out of rice on the side. The stupidity of it made you laugh a little. Even though his handwriting made you question if he knew how to write at all before this; a smile still crept on your face as you took the box and note inside.

"Quite the gentleman, huh?"

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #15 chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #pm dazai #teen romance #romance #fluff #15 light novel bsd #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd fifteen #dark era bsd #Spotify

[nieceeee]

"SPEED RACER..."

P/S: You and your boyfriend are headed to his brothers' graduation out of town. He was tense about you meeting his family for the first time but you knew the perfect way to calm his nerves...

W/C: 1.7k

A/N: smut, minors DNI, drive safely...please, nicknames (sweet, love, dove, baby, babyboy ) oral m!receiving, I wanted to go ahead and give yall this before I drop the next jjk fic and before yall go off on my about this babydaddy eren angst im dropping next.......so yeah enjooyyyy

“Baby boy?” Your voice calls sweetly from the passenger side of the car. Choso felt his heart jump slightly as he swallows the small lump that formed in his throat from hearing your siren’s song of a voice lure his attention. You were headed out of town for the week to celebrate his twin brothers’ graduation. It would be the first time you were going to meet his family after dating for about a year now and it was obvious that he was nervous about it. Choso wanted everything to go perfect and the anxiousness had him left feeling tense. But luckily for you, you knew the perfect way to ease that tension from his body. 

His eyes shifted to you slightly to catch your gaze before turning his attention back to the road. “Chooo…” you repeat softly, voice coated with a teasing tone. Gentle tingles formed at the base of his spine. He knew that voice all too well. His jaw clenches as he shakes his head slightly to keep his eyes from fluttering. The gentle click of your seatbelt coming undone made his ears perk up as he struggled to maintain his calm demeanor. “My sweet chocho…” you sing song as your fingertips softly run down his forearm. He jolts as your touch leaves a trail of goosebumps prickling up to the surface of his skin. 

“Y-yes my dove.” He responds, gentle voice shaking as anticipation rises like fever in his body. “How well can you focus on the road baby?” you ask innocently, pressing your lips together as you see his brows furrow in confusion. “I-...” he took a moment to process what you were asking. Honestly he wasn't exactly sure how to answer the question. Considering your name being embroidered into the passenger seat, he was sure that you were well aware of his driving capabilities. Still you asked the question and he would never leave any question of yours unanswered.

“Uh…” he starts, “Well, my sweet dove, I would hope I drive fairly well. I’ve never had any traffic violations as you’re aware of. Is there something I’ve done to concern you?” he asks. You smile gently to yourself, “Of course you haven’t baby.” you reassure him as you shift around in your seat, turning your body towards him and leaning closer. “L-love, I…I don’t think that's the safest way to sit right now.” he tries to keep a calm tone but you could hear the gentle panic as his concern for your safety rises, voice shifting half an octave as he steals small glances over at you. “Don’t worry baby boy.” you plant a little kiss right underneath his ear before pressing your knees into the seat. “I just want to do a little bit of an experiment. That’s all.”

“An experiment? I’m not sure what - oh fuck…” He breathes out, his sentence broke off by your hand grazing the crotch of his pants. His lids flutter again as his mind tries to catch up and register what you were doing. You loved the fact that you could lift the arm rest all the way up giving you additional space in the front seat to get closer to him. “Baby…” You shush him with another gentle kiss. “Just focus on the road for me baby.” you whisper in his ear, your voice meant to soothe him only provides more shivers down his spine. 

Choso lets out a shaky breath, nimble fingers wrapping tighter around the steering wheel as he lengthens his spine and focuses his attention forward. You turn the nob on the radio to lower the volume on the radio before turning your attention back to the bulge underneath his slacks. “Why’d you turn the radio down?” he questions. He couldn’t truly understand where you were going with your actions. Surely you wouldn't try to straddle him while he was driving…would you?

“Because baby, I want to be able to hear you.” you say innocently. He opens his mouth to rebuttal but you speak before he gets the chance. “ Now,” you start, your hands tugging at his zipper. “Just make sure you that you focus on the road in front of you.” You work him out of his pants, cool air blowing against the tip of his already swollen dick causing him to tremble under your touch. 

“Oh and Cho baby?” You sit up, hands still holding him softly. “Y-yes my sw-sweet dove?” He studders. “Keep your eyes open for me.” He has no time to ponder your response as the feeling of your heavy, wet tongue sliding across his slit severs any thoughts from his brain. “Oh my..fuck” he whimpers foot pressing gently on the gas and revving the engine. A small smirk pulls at your lips before you pull the mushroom shaped head  through your thick lips. A gentle moan escaping your throat as you savor his taste. It was true what they said about being in love, you obsess over their natural flavor. 

Your tongue swirls his tip gently forcing a strangled whine from his lips. Choso squirms in his seat as he tries to maintain focus on the road in front of him. You smile around him before taking another inch in your mouth. “Baby.” He laments, your teasing causing his arousal to coat the air with a heavy fog. You suckle on his tip, hand lazily stroking his length, squeezing gently from time to time. You release his tip, peppering gentle kisses up and down his shaft before licking from his balls up to the tip. Choso cusses under his breath as he shifts in his seat again, foot pressing again into the gas. “Fuck.” he mewls. 

Your delicate teasing is never ending, pulling shortened breaths from his chest. He tries to laser focus on the road but it was useless. Fuck this is dangerous. He thinks to himself but for some reason that turned him on even more. Your tongue trails the veins in his dick as your fingers pulse against him. “Y/N.. Baby please.” he pants. “Focus.” you warn. “You’re not making this easy on me.” he whimpers. “You’re right baby boy I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease.” you apologize. The truck pulls to a stop at an intersection as Choso leans his head back to catch his breath, eyes closed and hands loosening around the wheel. 

His break is short lived as the warmth of your mouth captures him completely, his tip slipping down your throat. Broken cries leave his throat in shock as he feels the muscles of your throat constrict around him. His eyes dart over to the car next to him as he feels a pair of eyes on him. He shifts back quickly hoping they didn't see the way he recoiled at your lips on him. His hands pale against his grip of the wheel as the light changes to green. “Y/N, love…fuck baby. Please.” he begs trying to keep the speed of the truck at a steady pace. But each time you sucked him back down your throat, head bobbing in his lap, the speedometer went up at least 5 miles per hour. 

You gag against his dick moaning around his length as you feel him brushing pass your uvula. Choso feels his toes curling in his dress shoes, jaw clenched tight. Unballing his foot only causing him to accelerate the car further. His eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head. You were being ruthless. Lewd sounds of your throat closing around him mixed with the wetness of the saliva dripping from your lips and your combines moans sing out over the murmur of the engine. 

That all too familiar coil of energy sparked in his body as you fed on him, the burning thirst for his secretions overpowering all other thoughts in your mind. “Fuck, s’good baby. Shit…close…fuck m close…” Choso’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace as he did everything in his power to maintain some type of composure. That all came to a halt as you slid your hand into his boxers, fingers curving around his balls and massaging them in gentle circles. 

Tears slipped from his eyes as he calls out to you, his body jerking as he felt his release overtake his body. “Cum…fuckimmcum…cumming” he babbles, words slurring together. Your pace was steady and consistent, before leaning down and pressing until your lips kissed his pelvis. He was sheathed down your throat with nowhere to run. Choso cries out to you, one hand releasing the wheel as it gripped the back of your head, fingers tangling themselves in your curls. He holds you close as his body spills down your throat. You drink it up greedily allowing the milky substance to trail down your throat and into your belly. 

Choso’s body spasms underneath you and he whimpers out your name repeatedly. 

When you were sure he was finished, you take your time licking him clean. His body still jerking as you raise up and grab the wipes from your purse and clean him up. He stays focused forward after you readjust his clothes and plop back down into your seat. He takes a moment to process the series of events that just happened, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right words to say. 

After a few minutes, he glances over at you. You sit int he passenger seat calming reapplying your makeup, a gentle smile on your lips feeling his heated gaze on you. After a few more moments, he finally speaks. 

“Why?” he strains. 

“Because I wanted to see how much control you could really have.” you respond sweetly, holding in your giggles. A gasp of shock leaves his body as he blinks a few times, completely taken aback by your response. You can't help the fit of giggles that escape your boyd at his reaction. “Princess,” he whimpers, “I was speeding.” he emphasizes. The giggles turn into a full blown belly laugh at his concern.  “Seriously! I was doing at least 100 miles per hour. Do you know how hard it would’ve been to explain that if we wouldn't gotten pulled over.” he pouted. Your laugh wouldn't stop and eventually he joined you, the air in the truck light and airy.

“Okay, okay.” you calm yourself down, “I’m sorry chobaby. That was dangerous. Next time I’ll just make you pull over.” you tease him. He shakes his head. “You are trouble you know that?” he sighs, hand reaching over to you. You smile leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek before leaning back and intertwining your fingers with his.

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