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500 Follower Part 1
Sex Education
[Bangchan/Maknae Line x Reader]
MDNI!!!!

Word Count: 6,554 😳
Not proofread
SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend Bangchan decided his Maknae need a little lesson on intimacy… you say yes to helping him.
WARNINGS: Sex, unprotected P in V, F!Recieving and M!Reciving Oral, Rough Fingering, Nipple Play, Degradation AND Praising, Choking mentioned like one, Voyuerism and HEAVY Exhibitionism, Begging, Munch!Han, Male masturbation, Use of Pet names, i’m sure i forgot stuff im sorry
NO TAGS DUE TO CONTENT
My Library HERE :)
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"Hyung?”
Chan groaned, rolling his eyes as the youngest members of his group came running up to him, Seungmin, Felix, Han and Jeongin murmuring to each other with flushed faces.
"Can I help you?"
The older sighed, closing his phone as the four stopped in front of him. He was sat alone on the couch, everyone else doing their own thing and preparing for bed after a long day of practice and work. He wanted nothing more than to go up to his room, take a nice, warm shower and sleep the night away with you.
But his boys seemed to have other plans.
"We just wanted to know..." Jeongin started, looking over at Seungmin and fidgeting with his hands. "...How do you get a girl to sleep with you?"
"What."
"I mean," Seungmin piped up. "How do you get a girl to be willing to have sex with you? We're trying to figure out how to do it."
Chan blinked, unsure what to make of his bandmates words. Did they think he had some sort of secret knowledge that would give them the ability to bed any girl they wanted? That he was some sort of Casanova?
"What makes you think I have any idea?" He asked, leaning forward to place his phone on the table before them.
"Because you have a girlfriend." Jeongin huffed, clearly frustrated that the older man wasn't understanding what they wanted.
"And? You think all I do is have sex with her?"
"Well, yeah!" Han spoke up, gesturing to the door. "I walked in on you guys just last week fucking away on the couch like animals.”
Chan flushed red, recalling the time they had been caught and how quickly he had pushed you off his lap and pulled his pants back up, hiding the both of you from their curious gazes.
"You guys... You're young, okay? You don't have to worry about anything like that. Don't worry about things like sex until you're ready."
"We’re in our 20’s old man." Seungmin said, voice firm and resolute as he crossed his arms over his chest. The other maknae nodded in agreement, shifting their weight from foot to foot as they avoided the older's gaze. “We just want to know how. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Chan groaned, looking at his phone with a frown before looking back up at the group before him.
He couldn’t tell them everything he knew. They were still young and inexperienced, and the last thing he needed was them trying to put their hands all over you.
But he couldn't let them keep thinking that the only way to a girl's heart was through her vagina.
"I'm not gonna give you a full list, but I can give you some tips."
A few days later, Chan approached you with the idea. “Hi Channie, how was your day babe?” Your voiced cooed as he walked into the kitchen of the dorms.
You had a towel in your hands and were busy cleaning the mess the boys had left behind after a meal, humming to yourself as you moved around.
He didn’t respond at first, instead approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"My day was fine, just thought of something interesting. Wanna help me teach the kids a lesson?"
"A lesson?" You asked, turning your head slightly to look up at him. He hummed, kissing your cheek before speaking again.
"Remember a few days ago, when the kids asked me how to get girls to have sex with them?"
"Yeah, they said you didn't give them any real answers, though."
"That's because I didn't want them trying to seduce my beautiful girlfriend." He purred, hands sliding up your shirt to feel your bare skin. You giggled, reaching back and placing your hands over his.
"I think that's a great idea." You hummed, feeling him squeeze your breasts. "I think we should have a bit of fun with it. I have this weird desire to take this entirely too far.”
"That can be arranged."
You had taken the rest of the night and the next morning to prepare yourself. You had told Chan that you were going to make the most of the situation and have a bit of fun. You all gathered in you and Chan’s bedroom that night and went over some ground rules and boundaries.
But it had taken Chan no time at all to have you pinned beneath him, both of you naked. His deep voice was purring in your ear as he hands began roaming your body. You could sense the four pairs of eyes watching you two, but the sensation of Chan’s hands was entirely pulling your focus.
He had begun slowly, fingers gently ghosting over the curve of your neck, then the top of your breasts. His hands cupped your chest, squeezing the flesh as he pressed his lips against the spot where your neck met your shoulder.
Your hands lifted and grabbed his, and he watched you as you guided him to touch the soft buds on your chest. He didn't need much direction after that, his thumbs and forefingers coming up to pinch your nipples as he spoke to the four Maknae. “The key to having sex with a woman is finding what makes her tick. She has to feel good, she is your priority.”
You let out a soft moan, squirming beneath him as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. You could hear the four men to your left breathing hard, and you wondered what kind of faces they were making. Were their cocks already tenting their pants, or were they trying their hardest to maintain composure?
Chan didn’t stop, his lips traveling across your shoulder and to the other side of your neck, pressing light kisses across your skin as his fingers continued toying with your nipples.
"When she feels good, she's more likely to want you to fuck her. It's better for the both of you if she's wet and excited. You know how to find her clit, right boys?"
They didn't respond, and Chan stopped moving. One of the little perks you and him thought up. If the Maknae didn’t behave, then he’d punish you. You both knew the guys would get off on the imagery of you coming undone over and over, so why not use it to make them behave?
"Answer me, kids."
"Yes hyung."
“Good. I’ll make you guys show me later.” All four boys audibly gulped at the realization.
Chan removed his hands from your breasts, sliding his fingers down to press against your already soaked core. Your breath hitched, and you bucked against him.
"If you wanna please a girl, make sure to find her clit. It'll make her come a lot faster and harder than if you just start putting your dick in."
His fingers pressed against you, rubbing at the bundle of nerves, sending chills up your spine. You whined, legs spreading further on instinct as your eyes fluttered shut.
"Don't forget about the rest of her body, though. Girls like to have their breasts and nipples played with."
You whimpered as he began grinding against you, his hard cock pressing against where you craved it most. You reached down between your bodies, hand gripping his hip tightly.
"And, when she's getting close, make sure to give her something to hold onto. Let her dig her nails into you, or have her grab the sheets. If you really wanna have fun, let her nails paint your back in scratches.”
He pulled away, leaving your body cold as his hands slipped under your thighs. He yanked you forward to turn you towards the four other men, causing you to fall back and brace yourself with your hands. You watched with wide eyes as he got comfortable on his knees, his hands gripping the back of your thighs tightly.
You felt a surge of embarrassment wash over you.
You were spread for the four of them, dripping wet and wanting, your boyfriend between your legs.
"Now, I want you to watch this." Chan instructed, leaning forward and latching his mouth onto your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves.
He was always so good at this.
Chan's hands slid from the backs of your thighs, and up your sides. He didn't hesitate to grab handfuls of your ass, and squeezed hard enough for you to let out a whine.
"Fuck, babe go easy!" He did just the opposite. Something primal awoke in him, as it always does. He was gonna ruin you, and when he was done, the four men watching would do the same.
His grip tightened, and you were sure his hands would leave bruises. He sucked at your clit, swirling his tongue around the little nub. Your hands came down to grip his hair, and you couldn't help but grind your hips against his face.
The sounds of his tongue working your pussy were absolutely filthy, and the way he was groaning into you was making the coil in your stomach wind tighter.
You didn't care about the audience, or how lewd the situation was. Your sole focus was the man between your legs, and the pleasure he was giving you.
"C-Chan! I'm gonna cum!"
"Then cum, baby." He hummed against you, and the vibrations sent you over the edge. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back and curling in on yourself.
You were panting, chest heaving as you tried to regain control of your senses.
"Now, did any of you see what I did?"
"You licked her pussy." Han blurted out, his face flushed and his hands shaking.
"Yeah, no shit. Did you notice anything else? Like, how I moved my hands, or where I put them?"
There was silence, and Chan let out an irritated huff.
He turned his head and looked over at the four Maknae, noticing their flushed faces and fidgeting hands. He was sure the four of them had hard-ons, and that they were aching to touch themselves.
But the thought of any of them being between your legs and eating you out?
Chan almost wanted to call off the whole thing.
Almost.
“Han get up.”
He stood, turning around and facing the four Maknae. He took a seat on the bed beside you, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. He kissed your temple, and whispered into your ear. “You’re gonna take a turn.”
Han slowly stood, trying to shift his weight to adjust the achingly hard cock pushing against his pants. The poor guy looked like he was gonna be sick, but there was a sparkle in his eye that made you excited.
Chan was a bit nervous. You had agreed to this, but was he willing to actually share you? Was it worth seeing the four maknae come undone?
Chan decided it was.
"You're gonna do exactly what I did, okay?"
"What if I fuck up?"
"I'll show you what to do, idiot." Bad cop.
“You’re gonna do great honey, I’ll help you.” Good cop.
Just another little perk you and Chan had decided on adding. Who doesn’t like getting degraded or praised?
Han kneeled between your legs, his eyes looking down at the mess between your thighs. You could tell he was nervous, and his shaking hands did little to reassure you that he could handle himself.
"Hands." Chan barked, and Han quickly placed his hands on the backs of your thighs. Chan reached over and gripped his wrists, moving his hands closer and forcing him to squeeze the supple flesh.
"Make sure you can reach everything."
Han gulped, nodding his head.
"What if I do a bad job?"
"If it doesn't feel good, she'll tell you."
He nodded, his grip tightening and making you shiver. He leaned forward, his warm breath fanning across your exposed pussy.
"Start with little licks, work up to the big stuff.”
“Wait!” It came out breathy, but all five guys looked at you. “You four feel so covered…please, don’t make me and Chan look so exposed.”
Seungmin, Jeongin, Felix and Han all shared a panicked look. It was true, you and Chan were completely void of clothes and the four of them were still fully dressed.
“Don’t want you to get messy now do we?” You cooed as you ran a hand through Han’s hair, him still kneeling between your legs, almost frozen.
One by one, they all got undressed.
Their hard cocks all bobbed and swayed with their movements, and the sight of their naked bodies sent a pulse straight to your pussy.
This was the best decision ever.
Han took a deep breath before he leaned forward, his tongue pressing lightly against your core.
You moaned softly, encouraging him.
Han seemed to get a bit more confident, his grip on the backs of your thighs tightening as he continued to lap at your pussy.
He wasn't very good.
His licks were a little too soft, his tongue moving in slow, wide motions. You let out a fustrated groan and Chan knew exactly what that meant. He fisted the hair at the back of Han’s head and guided his head deeper into you. Han’s nose pressed against your clit and you let out a loud moan at the sensation. “Get in there, don’t be gentle.”
You could tell Han was panicking. The younger was squirming against the harsh grip Chan had on his hair. His hands slid further up your thighs and grabbed a hold of your ass, squeezing roughly.
It was almost cute.
Chan didn't loosen his grip, though. If anything, he just held Han tighter.
"Make sure you pay attention, boys. When she's squirming, you know you're doing a good job."
You whimpered and rolled your hips, feeling his nose bump against your clit again. His grip on your ass was getting tighter, and the way his tongue was moving was making you see stars.
"Han, baby, you're doing so good."
Chan growled, his free hand moving up to grip your hip.
You could sense the tension coming from the older man.
Was he getting possessive?
You couldn't deny the thrill that sent up your spine.
"She's getting close." Chan growled, his grip tightening on the both of you. "If she tells you to stop, listen. She'll need a minute."
Han's pace sped up, and Chan released his hold on the younger, his hands going back to gripping the sheets.
You whimpered, squirming under his touch. You could feel the coil in your belly winding tighter, ready to snap.
"Han! I'm so close!"
Your orgasm hit you hard, and Han was quick to pull away. His chin was glistening, and he had a smug look on his face.
Chan’s breathing was tight as Han spoke. “I wanna do that again.”
Chan didn’t waste a moment. He reached out and grabbed the younger by the neck, pulling him close. He leaned forward, growling in his ear.
"You wanna taste her again? You think you can handle it?"
Han nodded his head, swallowing thickly. Chan hummed, letting go of his neck and moving to lay on his side.
"Good. Felix, come here."
The younger was quick to stand, walking around the bed and settling between your legs.
"You're gonna learn how to do this right, okay?"
Chan leaned up and placed his hand on the back of the youngest's head. He leaned forward, forcing the maknae's head down between your legs.
Felix's lips and tongue were a bit rough, and his technique wasn't the best, but he was eager to please. He would lick and suck at your clit, only stopping every once and awhile to take a breath.
"She likes her clit played with, not sucked on." Chan hissed, moving his hands to your hips. Felix pulled back and you whined, rolling your hips.
"Sorry, hyung."
"That's okay, sweetheart. You're learning. Here, let's try something." You sat up a bit and signaled to Chan.
Chan gently pushed him back and slid between your legs.
"Watch."
He didn't waste a moment, latching his mouth onto the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a high pitched squeal, squirming and grabbing his hair.
"You're a fucking tease, Channie." You breathed, grinding your hips against his face.
He didn't say anything, instead sliding his tongue down and pushing it inside of you.
"Fuck!"
Your back arched, and Chan pulled his mouth away from you. He looked at Felix and the maknae nodded.
"Don't suck, play with it with your tongue. Make sure to get her dripping wet, then push your tongue inside. And move your head with her, or you'll hurt her."
Felix nodded, his hands grabbing your thighs. He was eager to start again, and leaned forward. His tongue pressed against your clit, and he started moving his head like Chan told him to.
"Felix... baby, that's so good."
His tongue was a lot gentler than Chan's. His licks were shorter, quicker, but it was making you feel good as hell.
He wasn't hesitant about it, and the fact that he was doing what Chan said was a major turn on. You had always loved a man who followed orders.
You could feel his nails digging into your skin as he continued lapping at your clit. The pressure was building in your core, and you knew that you were going to come hard.
"I'm gonna come, baby."
"Good." Felix's voice was low and muffled against you.
You let out a loud moan, your body arching off the bed. Felix's tongue kept moving, even when your body went slack.
You were panting, and you could hear the others talking.
"That was really good."
"You think?"
"Yeah! It was really hot."
You rolled over, pressing your face into Chan's chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling against him.
"Chan... I need a break."
"Okay. We're taking a break."
The two of you got comfortable, laying down next to each other. Your head was resting on his chest, his arm around your waist and his thumb rubbing small circles into your side.
"What about us?" Seungmin spoke up, looking at the two of you with a pout.
“C’mere.” You sat up and gestured Seungmin to stand in front of you as you laid on your stomach, his cock in your face.
Your boyfriend had a firm grip on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Seungmin was hesitant, his hands shaky as he placed them on your head.
You opened your mouth, looking up at the boy.
Seungmin was the biggest of the four Maknae, but his size wasn’t gonna scare you off.
"I'm gonna suck you off, okay?"
Seungmin's breath hitched, his grip on your hair tightening.
"O-Okay."
"Tell me when to stop."
You took him into your mouth, your hands grabbing the backs of his thighs.
Seungmin whimpered, his grip tightening on your head. He was careful not to push you, though, and the fact that he was letting you lead the pace was a huge turn on.
You could feel Chan's hands slide up your back, his fingers brushing against your spine.
"Keep going." He whispered, and you moaned, closing your eyes and sucking Seungmin's cock.
The taller let out a loud moan, his hand grabbing your head. His hips began bucking forward, and his cock slid deeper down your throat.
"F-fuck, you feel so good."
Chan's hands squeezed your hips, pulling you back a bit. "Slow down."
"But she feels so good."
Chan hummed, leaning forward and kissing your neck. His hands moved up and cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.
You moaned, and Seungmin let out a loud groan.
"I-I'm close."
"Good." Chan purred, his hands sliding back down to your hips. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against your back, his cock rubbing against you.
You whimpered, rolling your hips. You could feel his cock slipping between your legs, his shaft rubbing against your pussy.
Seungmin's grip on your hair tightened, his cock pulsing in your mouth. You sucked hard, swirling your tongue around the tip.
"Gonna cum."
"Do it, baby." You purred, looking up at him through your lashes.
Seungmin's cock twitched and he let out a loud moan. His hot cum spilled into your mouth and you swallowed, moaning at the taste. "Fuck, that's so hot,” he mumbled.
You pulled back, wiping the back of your mouth with the back of your hand. "How was that?"
"That was amazing."
You smiled, sitting up and kissing his cheek.
"You guys wanna get back to it?"
They nodded eagerly, and you giggled, leaning forward and kissing Chan deeply. He hummed, his hand reaching up and cupping your cheek.
"I love you." You said against his lips.
"I love you, too." He smiled back.
You were the first to get into position, laying down on the bed and spreading your legs. Chan spoke up, “The next thing I’m gonna show you is how to fuck her with your fingers. You gotta be careful, you do it wrong and she gets hurt.”
Seungmin was the first to step forward, his face flushed as he got between your legs.
He was shaking slightly, his fingers twitching as he brought them closer to you.
Chan moved behind him, placing his hands on top of Seungmin's.
"Start with one finger. If she says it's too much, add a little bit of spit and try again. You're gonna wanna curve them upwards, and move them in and out."
Seungmin nodded, his finger pressing against your entrance. You let out a soft whine, biting your lip as his finger pushed inside.
"Now move it in and out, slowly. Like I said, if she says stop, stop."
"O-okay."
Seungmin moved his finger in and out slowly, his gaze focused on your pussy.
You whimpered, rocking your hips.
"Seungmin, that feels really good."
"Does it?"
"Yes, baby."
"That's good. You're doing a good job, Minnie." Chan hummed, moving his hand to his shoulder. "Now add another finger."
Seungmin nodded, pulling his finger out and adding another. He pushed them both inside slowly, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.
"Good. Now move them."
Seungmin's fingers began moving, the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers was making you dizzy.
"She likes it when you curl your fingers a bit. That spot is a girl's best friend."
"Curl?"
"Yeah, like this."
Chan's fingers curled up , demonstrating the motion and the younger's eyes went wide. He mimicked the motion, curling his fingers and brushing against your g-spot.
"F-Fuck! There!"
"There?"
"Yes, fuck, keep doing that."
You reached down and began rubbing your clit, moaning loudly as the pleasure was starting to overwhelm you.
Seungmin continued fucking you with his fingers, his pace speeding up. Your moans were getting louder, and your grip on the sheets was tight. You could sense the more Seungmin got comfortable, the more he got into it.
"Minnie, I'm gonna cum!"
"Go ahead. Cum."
Your orgasm hit hard, and you cried out. Your entire body was shaking, and you were gripping the sheets tightly.
"That was so good." You breathed, looking up at him.
Seungmin beamed, pulling his fingers out and then tapped your chin with his other hand. “Open up.” You obeyed and he shoved his fingers in your mouth as you sucked them clean of any trace of you.
"Fuck." Jeongin mumbled, his cock twitching.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Han asked as Seungmin began to go back to sitting down.
“I saw it in a porno once.” He shrugged.
"Don't worry, Innie. You're next."
"Wait." Jeongin spoke up, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting away from the scene before him. "I don't know if I can do this."
Chan and you shared a look, before Chan responded.
"Why not? Do you not want to?"
"I just, I'm scared. What if I hurt her?"
"Then she'll tell you. If she doesn't feel good, she won't be shy about letting you know."
"But what if I do something wrong?"
"I'll guide you. Come here."
Jeongin hesitated for a moment before walking towards the two of you. Chan guided him, pulling him closer and placing his hand between your legs.
"She's still a bit wet. That's a good thing."
"Really?"
"Yes. It means she's turned on. It's a good thing." Chan gently pushed two of Jeongin's fingers inside, and the younger let out a soft gasp.
"She's warm."
"It feels really good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah."
Chan began guiding his fingers, pushing them in and out slowly.
"This is how you fuck a girl. Slow, deep thrusts."
"Okay."
"And don't forget, make sure to hit her g-spot."
"G-spot?"
"Yeah. It's a super sensitive area. Curve your fingers, like this."
Chan guided his fingers, showing the youngest how to curl them. He brushed against your g-spot, and you let out a loud moan.
"Found it!” He looked to Chan, shocked and semi-proud of himself. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.
Jeongin's pace picked up, his thrusts becoming faster.
"She likes it when you're rough. She's not made of glass, Innie. Go as hard as you want, but make sure to give her a second to breathe."
"Yes, hyung."
His pace sped up, his thrusts getting rougher.
"I'm close, Innie." You gasped, grinding your hips against his fingers.
"Come for me." He said in a breath, his thrusts becoming harder.
Your orgasm hit you hard, and you threw your head back. Jeongin's pace didn't slow, his thrusts growing more aggressive.
"Innie, fuck." He pulled his fingers out and moaned as he licked them clean.
"You're doing so well, baby." Chan hummed, kissing the your cheek.
"Now, I wanna watch you finger her." Jeongin spoke up, shy despite what he just did.
Chan and Jeongin switched places, Chan’s fingers pressed against your entrance, pushing inside and curling immediately.
You whimpered, grinding against his fingers. Chan’s pace was fast and rough, and it was making your head spin.
"She likes it rough. She loves it when you fuck her hard."
Jeongin nodded, his hand wrapped around his cock. His hand moved up and down his length, and his breathing was ragged.
"Channie." You whined, rolling your hips against his fingers.
"Come on, baby. Come for me."
You let out a loud moan, grinding your hips against his hand as you came.
"Fuck." Chan purred, pulling his fingers out.
"You wanna taste her?" He signaled to Felix.
"Y-Yeah."
Chan brought his fingers to the younger's lips, and Felix eagerly licked them clean.
"God, she tastes so good."
"You can have more later.” Chan hummed, standing up and moving over to the youngest.
“What’s next?” Han said, his hand lazily stroking his cock, the head red and angry.
“You’re gonna fuck her.”
The two of you shared a look and you smirked, laying back down and spreading your legs.
Chan helped the boy line himself up, the head pressing against your entrance.
"Take it slow, okay?"
Han nodded, pushing his cock inside slowly. You moaned, throwing your head back as he slid inside.
"F-Fuck." He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
"Good?"
"So good."
"Don't be afraid to fuck her. She can take it."
Han didn't hesitate. His pace was quick, and he was hitting all the right spots.
"God, you're so fucking tight."
"Han...you're doing such a good job."
Chan was still beside the two of you, his eyes dark and his expression hungry. “Baby-“ You reached your hand out to him and grabbed ahold of his cock. Your hand made work of your boyfriend while Han fucked into you at a delicious pace.
"She feels so good."
Chan chuckled, his cock throbbing in your hand. "I know she does."
"Fuck, I'm close."
"Come on, baby. Cum for me."
Han's thrusts became harder, his nails digging into your hips. His cock pulsed and twitched, and his breathing was erratic.
"C-Can I come inside?"
"Yeah, baby. Come for me."
Han's cock pulsed, his hot seed shooting deep inside you.
"God, that was good." He panted, pulling his cock out.
"You think?"
"Yeah." He laughed, ”I really wanna eat her out again.”
Chan's gaze darkened and he growled, "It’s my turn to show you how it’s done first.”
Chan's hands grabbed your hips and pulled you down the bed. He stood between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance.
"You ready for me, baby?"
"Always, Channie."
Chan hummed, and pushed himself inside. You gasped, your hands flying to his arms.
"Fuck, Channie."
Chan began pounding into you, his pace rough and brutal.
"Look at you. Taking me so well. You're such a good girl." His chest was pressed against yours, his words of praise tickling your ear.
His hand reached up and wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently.
"You're mine."
"All yours."
"That's right. Mine."
Chan's hand squeezed tighter and his thrusts got harder. You were quickly becoming a whining mess.
"You're not gonna last long, are you?"
"N-no."
"That's okay. You can come whenever you want."
"W-What about you?"
"Don't worry about me. Just come."
You let out a loud cry, your orgasm hitting you hard. You clenched hard around his dick, and he visibly jolted at the feeling of you gripping him.
"Such a good girl. I'm almost there."
"Come for me, Channie."
"I'm so close."
"Please, baby."
Chan's cock pulsed and he let out a low groan, his hips stuttering as he came.
He stayed inside you for a few moments, his forehead resting against yours.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm great. Are you?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
You hummed, turning your head to look at the boys. They were all staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
"Did you guys enjoy that?"
"It was awesome." Felix looked like he was about to combust.
"You looked amazing." Seungmin cooed as he began approaching the bed.
"I didn't know you could be so dirty, hyung." Jeongin ran a hand through his hair as he ran his eyes over your body.
You chuckled, turning back to face your boyfriend. He kissed your cheek and pulled out, laying beside you.
"I'm not sure I could get hard again for a while, baby. Give the boys some attention.”
"Okay." You sat up and grabbed Jeongin's wrist. "I want you."
Jeongin didn't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and pushing himself inside.
"Oh, fuck. You feel so good, baby."
"So do you."
Jeongin's hips were sharp and quick, his pace fast.
"I'm not gonna last long."
"It's okay sweetheart, just keep going-Fuck!”
Chan's voice filled the room.
"Wait a second." Jeongin slowed his motions as Chan grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your clit. “If you know you aren’t gonna last long enough for her to finish, help her get there faster. Play with her clit.”
Jeongin nodded and his thumb started rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. Your eyes fluttered shut and your back arched off the bed, the feeling of both sensations beautifully overwhelming.
"I'm close. So close."
"Me too."
You felt another hand join the one between your legs. You opened your eyes and looked up, seeing Seungmin kneeling beside you. His cock was in his hand, his strokes quick and erratic.
"C-cum with me, sweetheart." You placed your hand on Jeongin’s arm. "I'm close, just keep going."
"Fuck, me too." You could feel his thrusts becoming harder, his breathing ragged. His pace was brutal, and his grip on your thigh was painful.
"Seungmin."
"Yeah, baby."
"Kiss me."
"As you wish."
Seungmin leaned forward and his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and messy, and his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, your orgasm quickly getting ready to snap.
"Gonna cum." Your orgasm hit hard, and your whole body shook. Jeongin's cock pulsed, and his hot seed spilled inside you.
"Shit." He pulled out, and collapsed beside you.
Seungmin didn't stop kissing you, his grip tightening on your waist as you sat up. “I wanna ride you. Sit against the headboard.”
Seungmin nodded, sitting up and positioning himself. He gripped his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and you both groaned.
"She feels so good hyung." Seungmin looked to Chan.
"Fuck me, Seungmin." Seungmin's hands rested on your hips and he slowly pushed himself inside. Seungmin began rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out.
"God, I've wanted to do this for so long."
"What?”
"You were with him." He gestured towards Chan.
“You were having fantasies about my girlfriend?”
Seungmin nodded, biting his lip.
"I was jealous. I wanted you."
"And now you have her, but one night only. She’s mine, don’t forget that.”
"Yes, yes I do."
His pace picked up, his hips slapping against yours. You could feel his cock hitting deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix.
"You're so tight. Fuck."
"You're so big."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"I'm gonna come."
"Do it."
"Fuck." Seungmin's thrusts got faster, and his grip tightened. His cock pulsed and twitched, and his eyes fluttered shut. He cried out, his orgasm hitting hard.
"Oh my god." You cried out, collapsing against Seungmin as he rode out his own orgasm.
“Okay, she needs a break.” Chan helped you off Seungmin’s lap, but you interrupted him.
“Han, come here, please. Want you- to eat me out again.” Your words came out in pants, but Han looked more than eager to oblige.
You laid back on the bed, and Han crawled between your legs, his tongue running over your sensitive flesh.
You whimpered, the sensation bordering on overstimulation. Chan noticed your discomfort and he reached his hand down to rub slow circles on your hip, the feeling helping ground you. “Are you sure baby? You can stop at any time.”
“I’m fine, I promise.” You let out a moan and then signaled to Felix. As he came over, you turned your head to take him into your mouth.
While you were focused on Felix, Chan spoke up.
"Han, you gotta be gentle. If she says stop, you need to listen. Do not push her."
Han nodded, his tongue continuing to explore your pussy. He was gentle, his tongue gliding over your clit.
"Oh, fuck." You moaned around Felix's cock, your hand wrapping around the base. You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard.
"She's amazing." Felix groaned.
"I know. And she's all mine."
You whimpered, feeling another orgasm building up. Your hips rocked against Han's mouth, and he seemed to notice, his movements speeding up. "Gonna cum." You moaned, grinding against his mouth.
"Come for me."
"Yes!" You cried out, your orgasm hitting hard. Your hips bucked wildly, and your back arched. Han lapped at your cunt, cleaning you up before pulling away and licking his lips.
"That was the best meal I've ever had. I could do that all day.” Han stepped away as you continued to suck Felix’s cock.
“Stop- wanna fuck you.” He groaned.
Felix pulled out and then quickly lined his cock up with your entrance, slamming into you.
"Fuck." You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets.
"Fuck, you feel so good."
Felix's thrusts were hard and fast, and his grip on your thighs was almost painful.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." His hand shot down to your clit to help you along as Chan said earlier. Always following instructions.
"Come for me, Felix."
Felix's cock twitched, and he cried out, his cock pulsing and his hot seed spilling inside.
You let out a soft groan, and he pulled out, falling to the side and catching his breath. Each of the Maknae looked entirely spent, dicks limp and eyes closed.
"I wanna see her get fucked by Changbin." Felix looked at Chan, and the eldest nodded.
"Changbin? Why?” Chan questioned as he moved towards you.
"He's the biggest. I wanna see her stretched around his cock." Felix was dazed on the bed next to you.
Chan's gaze shifted to you, a wicked grin forming on his face. "Oh? Is he now?”
"Mhm." Felix nodded, biting his lip.
"Is that what you want, baby? You wanna be stretched around his cock?"
"I wanna be stretched around yours baby.” You could tell Chan’s possessive side was coming out.
"Good answer.”
Chan made his way over and settled between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance.
Chan slowly slid inside, and you moaned, your back arching off the bed.
"You feel so fucking good, baby. I love you.” Chan’s thumbs were rubbing circles against your hips.
“You fit so good, I love you too. Fuck!”
His pace was quick and rough, his cock hitting deep.
"I love you so much." Chan leaned down and looped his arms under your back, holding you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck.
"I love you, too." Tears were lining your eyes as sheer pleasure flooded your system, the overstimulation starting to hit you.
You moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck." He growled, his cock throbbing.
"Fuck, I'm close."
"Come for me, baby."
"Chan..." Your eyes were squeezed shut, and you were barely able to breathe.
"That's it. Come for me."
You let out a strangled moan, and you came, your walls clenching tightly around his cock.
"Good girl. Such a good girl."
"Come for me, Chan. Come inside, please." Chan's grip tightened, and he groaned, his hips stuttering.
"Fuck." You both stilled, your breathing ragged.
Chan slowly pulled out, his forehead resting against yours.
"How do you feel, baby?"
"Sore, but I'm good. I'm happy."
"Me too. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Chan helped you stand, and he held you tightly.
"Alright boys, we need to get cleaned up. We have practice tomorrow and a few of you have vocal lessons and a photoshoot."
You chuckled and kissed his cheek.
"Alright. Go shower, we'll clean up the room." Han offered with a lazy smile.
"We?" Felix whined, sitting up.
"Yes, we. Come on." Seungmin said, slapping Felix on the shoulder.
"Thanks, guys." Chan grabbed your clothes and carried them into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
You smiled and joined him, letting the hot water wash away the sticky evidence of your activities.
The boys did an excellent job at cleaning the bedroom. It was spotless, and it smelled clean.
You and Chan were in his room, him snuggled against you as you ran your fingers through his hair.
"I think we need to have them all over for dinner. Or a movie. Something." You said softly.
"I'll ask if they want to. Why?" Chan was running his hands through your hair gently.
“I feel like I owe them a thank you." You couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Yeah, they would probably like that. I'll talk to the manager tomorrow and see when they have open schedules."
"Thank you, baby."
"No problem, love." Chan kissed your cheek and snuggled closer.
"Hey, Chan."
"Yeah?"
"What was all that about earlier? About not touching me because I'm yours?"
"I was just playing, baby. You know I'm not really like that, right?"
"Of course. It was really hot, though."
#skz#stray kids#skz fanfic#skz x reader#skz smut#bang chan fanfic#bang chan#felix yongbok#han jisung#seungmin#i.n skz#jeongin
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transatlanticism | chapter seven
masterlist ao3
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Series Description: The past, present, and plausible future. Knowing Steve in the in-between. Or, as you grow up in Hawkins, parallel to Steve's rich kid bubble, you fall out of favor with expectations, and end up abroad for the rest of highschool. In light of an abrupt return, you try to rekindle a friendship with someone you don't know anymore.
Tags: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, angst, severely poor communication.
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steve harrington / reader Warnings: mild sexual content (so ig MDNI but it's really not that graphic), smoking, smoking, description of injury. Words: 5.3k
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You were exponentially escaping his footnotes, and it was December. Still, Steve didn't want you to come over to his house for Christmas dinner. It was an adamant declaration under a late-night glow. You furrowed, incredulous.
You had always been in the Harrington's hesitant favor. There was always a fifty in your purse, and your hair was always done, and your clothes were always new, and your family never did anything unsavory for the vipers to consume. You wore a painted-on perfection that pleased them immensely. Despite this adoration from his parents, he feared them innately, and maybe, in some subconscious sector of his mind, feared what they might presume from your attendance. A really bitter sector of your mind, which was a mind of all-consuming, tortuous self-destruction, thought that maybe he just didn't want to face the obligations of commitment so soon. You frowned.
"Your parents love me," you pointed out, folding an old blouse on top of your dresser. "Our dads play loser-old-man-poker together, like, all the fucking time." Steve groaned from behind you, sinking into your comforter.
"I know, I know." He placed a weighted hand over his eyes. "Isn't your family doing something?"
"Well, my dad hates me, and everyone else lives in Michigan, so probably not."
"Yeah, right." He sighed and grew quiet.
The month was a slow descent.
-
Movie store girl (the longer you expressed reluctance towards her name, you figured, the less she existed) didn't like your whole thing. With a squint and a strain, you were quite sure you remembered her from high school, albeit vaguely, and albeit with little kindness. She was in band, you knew. She was still in school, you also knew, which discouraged the thought that Steve was secretly and madly in love with her, but didn't diminish it completely, for if you knew one thing most of all things, he wasn't very wary of imbalances. She spoke tentatively. You didn't know it, but only assumed it, or simply inferred that Steve had told her about the fight you'd had. This was the ultimate catalyst.
"He doesn't work today." She avoided your eyes, straightening punch cards behind the register.
"Oh, I know. He takes Thursday afternoons off to watch sports and be lame," you replied, elbows resting on the counter. You teetered securely on your heels. "And I totally didn't come here for him, anyway. I wanted to talk to you." You smiled, plasticky. "Robin," you emphasized, showing her your teeth, a sign of faux congeniality, something she'd come to know you for.
"Hm?" She moved to the other side of the counter, and you followed swiftly, shuffling alongside her with a manic pep that forced a grimace and a glance as she fiddled pointlessly with the computer.
"Well, I guess I just figured, since you and Steve are so close and all, we should get to know each other." The statement reeked of high school. You had thought, a little idiotically, maybe, that you had long since abandoned whatever devil resided in your bones, and that you were a fairly nice, decent sort of lady in your current state. Your thoughts were volatile, and your conversations were imploding, every word another nuke sent down too late.
"Yeah, and how exactly do you wanna do that?" She just wasn't his type. She was too young, you recalled, and sort of hyper, and she looked like a dork, and she dressed like a dude, her hair short and her eyes all smudgy. She just wasn't his type, really, but you weren't either, not after Nancy. The more the idea lingered, the more you sunk, and so you brushed it off, flicked your hair back, and grinned harder, pointed toe and popped hip incredibly poignant.
"Brunch?" You shrugged as you suggested it, a glee plastered onto your expression that made her scoff real subtle, something crueler than you'd have imagined.
"You want to have brunch? With me?" She turned to face you, arms propped up against the counter, face a little closer, competitive in this juvenile, mocking sort of way. She was poking and prodding at your weakening resolve. She was taunting Schrodinger's bitch.
"Yes. I said that." For a moment, she fell into the know and softened.
"Look, I'm busy right now," she nodded at a customer, "but talk to Steve. We'll, like, meet up or something."
The month was a slow descent, but it was also fast, and it was also mostly your fault, mostly your bizarre conscious that decimated your short-lived peace. You rented Alien and crashed at seven PM.
-
Parked in the woods, futilely flipping through radio stations, Steve was idyllic, and he looked like he could be sixteen, of course, only in the dark, and only if you looked at him from the corner of your eye and maybe fibbed a bit about the comparison. You liked to pretend that you were both still young and nothing had ever happened at all. He landed on George Michael, yet still seemed displeased, frowning as he flopped back into his seat.
"We don't need music, you know," you pointed out, unbuckling your seat belt, re-tucking your shirt into your pants.
"I always have music. Never not had music. It's like a-" he paused, lips all thin and forehead all wrinkly, "lucky charm. It's like a lucky charm." You smiled, kissed him slow, and said he didn't need one, not with you.
Steve always fucked girls in cars. Sometimes, and this was a shoddy reference, knowledge from a dying era, he'd call up a girl, and then he'd take her out to dinner, and he'd tell her she's pretty, and he'd offer to take her home, but he'd say he knew a place, and this movie-like ruse would only escalate, clothes off, mouths on. You wondered when the last occurrence was. You wondered if he'd cleaned his car since then or if, sliding your jeans off, you were sitting where another girl had sat, and that invisible sheen of nostalgia on the interior that only you could sense was, in fact, sex from another time.
He peeled you like corn. Hand on your back, hand pulling you closer, the other fumbling with your jeans around your ankles, shucking them down your legs and onto the console. You were wearing your blue Campuses, a bit worn on the edges, a little smooth on the sole, and your pants caught on them, and he whined, pulling at the ends. You knocked of your shoes and your jeans and your inhibitions, too. He kissed like a dog. He'd been drinking, hands sweltering on your sides.
He pulled you into his lap, fumbling with his own seatbelt as he raised up his hips to meet yours. He faltered once you were on top of him, pulling back just to look at you, letting go just to let you settle. He cleared his throat. He breathed out heavy, dim and abruptly untrained. He eyed the robotic unbuttoning of your top, your fingers working mechanically, efficiently. You were looking down, sniffing a bit against the cold, and he couldn't pull you quite close enough, make you warm and melty, even as you touched him and wanted him and made soft, sex-esque sounds into his air.
There was a prying longing for the way it used to go. When you were young, wistful and angry and curious about it all, he would do it for you, hands awkwardly orientated around you collar as he hovered over you. There was a taboo in your modern roboticism. There was a thing, a lurking, garish, ugly thing that you refused to address, refused to acknowledge. It came in soft swipes of air over your collarbone, heavy breaths and heaving chests. When he was above you, maybe in your room, maybe somewhere more obscure, and he was moving hastily, and you were so lucid that your vision blurred, leaving your sightline with just a shoulder or a slice of abdomen, that is when it appeared and began to infest your mind. It was the years you had lost in England. It was the time you spent away at parties, the time in bedrooms or bathrooms or coat closets, but only once there, just like only once in the pool, once in the garage.
You wanted him, he knew. He must've known. Often, you kissed him like it was a wedding kiss, the pastor smiling all soft as he dipped you down in a puffy dress. Even in your occasional urgency, there was a blasé element, a detached edge that found itself lost in the flurry of his affections. Still, the kissing was the extent of the sexual indulgences. Often, and contrastingly, you fucked him like an old woman, maybe sixty or so, welcoming her husband to an early grave with a beer and a lasagna, doing what she figures she must. You reached for the button of his jeans. He choked on his own contemplations.
"Hey." He grabbed your wrist. "Hey, what's the rush?" He laughed. You straightened and didn't smile.
"We don't have to," you retorted, figuring it a calculated rejection. You leaned back, going to re-button our shirt before he reached out to stop you. "Steve, its okay if you don't want you," you assured, glaring, dim and obscured, a little disheartened but a lot empathetic. Brow furrowed, he grabbed onto your hands, pulling them away from your chest.
"I want to, of course I do. Just--" he winced at his own girlishness. "You never let me touch you." He sighed out something extraordinary, and he shrank, squeezing your hands in his. You broke out into the cruelest of grins, winding your fingers in-between his, dancing with the unshed skin of his knuckles, poking at his sensitivity.
"You are touching me," you jested, scooting back a bit. He scoffed.
"You know what I mean." He seemed reluctantly genuine about the whole thing. It was a toothache in itself.
"Steve, are you actually pissed that I won't let you finger me?" His hands felt like little, burning stars; he was best at touching, often touched like it was a competition, made it better than sex, sometimes. Still, the daydream had you shifting in his lap, the ideal, melodic movements that always seemed to evade you coming across as perfectionistic in your head. Of course, there was the want, just as there was the air and the heartbeat, but it faded easily into the swell of returning inhibitions that consumed you.
"Not pissed," he murmured, hand moving up your thigh, a little sloppy, a little high school. "Just wondering why. I mean, you think I'm not, like, good at it, or something?"
You laughed: "Come on. How many girls have you successfully fingered? Like, five, six bajillion?"
"More like three or four, but sure." His humility consumed you. The desire to absorb him only intensified, your spine going mushy against his trailing fingertips. "Really, though. I wanna know." He seemed to wonder endlessly, and his baby eyes implored (pretty, by the moon, looking young, smiling a little).
"It's not that you're bad or anything. I just, like, don't want you to feel obligated, you know? Like, I don't want it to be one of those things you do even if you don't really like it that much, you just do it because you have to, or you should, or I guess you think you should." Your face went hot, and his hand, wavering, slipped from your thigh to your hip, your spine to your waist, encasing you, holding you together a bit. "I don't know, it probably sounds stupid. I mean, you can do whatever you want. I don't care, is all."
"You don't care?" It struck a chord in him, a low, tentative one that shivered at the light rain that began to hit the window. You shook your head. He pulled you closer.
"Whatever you want," you murmured, but it got lost in the way he kissed you, the way he pushed his mouth against yours, fighting a little, the mental spar overtaking the rain and the night and the George Michael. In some ways, it was the cruelest thing to say. You were a constant guilt trip, a nagging reminder, like always and before, and you never changed, and you never apologized. He put his hand in your underwear, and it was the sort of thing you would've readily avoided with anyone else, too slow and too good, really. Sometimes sex was bad, and it was for the best. This unbearably morbid view faded right along with the moan you bit into his shoulder.
"Whatever I want," he repeated, forcibly, a tone that made you wiggle like an animal, too mean. He put his hand on the side of your neck, pulling you away, forcing you up, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he smiled with a part in his lips, mockingly proud. Fingers and sounds and heavy man breaths, all everywhere, all on the seats and the windows and the wheel, even, seeping into the engine. "You're so pretty," he whispered, jutting another finger inside of you, but you furrowed as the air grew thicker. You frowned. You wished you were plastic; it felt too stuffy, too much.
When you tightened, and you said his name, and you fell into his chest, he held you there, and that was the sort of touching he'd been waiting for, the real type. He liked your sweaty neck. He liked your sticky hair, your smudged makeup. Sometimes sex was good, and it was for the worst, and it felt like flying. He tucked your hair behind your ears, pressing his nose into the side of your head, shifting against your weight.
-
"I missed you so much," he said, and it resonated all the way into the backseat, maybe even into the town over. Contrastingly, he lifted up his hips, rubbing himself against you, groaning into your skull. You didn't think he'd ever understand why you cried into his collarbone, but didn't say why, and kissed him anyway.
Everything was rotating. The push and pull was reductive. It was worse when he wanted you, better when he was distracted. Your dad took another trip. The maid took the holiday off, and so did the gardener, and so did the rest of the world, so everything was just snow and unfolded sheets, all melting into the month.
Steve slept at least thirteen hours a day. If he wasn't working, he was hanging out with children, hanging out with you, eating with either you or the children, or he was just sleeping. That day, very post-coitally, he took up more than half the bed, and he started to snore. You wondered if this was what marriage felt like, and you pulled out a cigarette. He liked to say that his emotional turmoil made him tired. When you exhaled he shifted, and so, feeling performative, you blew a puff of smoke right above his nose, forcing out a jolt and a cough as he groaned himself awake.
"Fuck you." He slammed his hand over your alarm clock, tilting it into view. "God, its late. Put that shit out."
"You'd rather I smoke during the day like a beer-gutted deadbeat?" You nudged his leg with your cold foot. He laughed all dry, pushing the hair off his forehead.
"I'd rather you not smoke." He shoved you off, sitting himself up. His eyes were puffy and there was this sheen of sweat on his face that reeked of domesticity.
"Hypocrite," you mumbled, murdering the small attempt at release as you pressed the cigarette into your jewelry dish. "You gave me my first one, remember?" He groaned again, this time with a little less malice around the edges. "And I coughed, and you laughed and then you said it was cute, but I was so embarrassed. Actions have consequences," you taunted, your faux attempt at humor falling flat underneath the implications of the situation; nothing was now anymore, only memories.
"Yeah, and I meant it, but now its gross." You nudged him again, but he only grunted uncomfortably, rolling out of the bed to pick up his clothes from the floor. "You want me to go?" he asked, pulling on his boxers. "You know, so you can smell bad in peace."
"I wanna go out." You looked over to him, but he didn't return the gesture, pulling on his jeans, which he struggled to button up after all that leftover sloppy joe. You knew, then, that it was what marriage felt like. "I think there's a show at the lounge tonight. We can still catch it." He sighed, turning slow like cattle and pulling his lips taught. With an incredibly cruel, paternal sort of movement, he came around and sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, his hand over your knee from above the comforter.
"Baby, I'm tired, okay?" He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, but it didn't linger. "Next time, alright?" It didn't mean anything at all to you at the time, and you nodded like a bitter child, your chin reaching down to your chest. He jarred you consistently, jerking you in all directions. "Promise." He pecked your mouth. It felt like an insult, but you worried you were being over-attentive. You grabbed at his wrist.
"You don't have to go." His skin was hot and alive and dissipating, still, even as you refused to let it leave.
"My dads been getting on my case about my sudden absence in the household. Don't wanna piss him off too much." You ran your fingers over the top of his hairy man chest, which aged him a bit, but still felt symbolic of the person you'd always figured him to be, albeit a bit more homely. Even if this was like marriage, and even if you felt sort of dull whenever he bailed on you like this, the idea was innately romantic. You liked waking him up in bed and watching him put on his clothes. You liked listening to him snore, because you couldn't sleep half the time anyways, and he looked so funny when he did it, mouth open and all.
"I like it when you stay," you admitted, fingers sliding up to his neck. "Helps me sleep." A sense of naiveté peeked through your pores, and he gripped it tight, pulling you into a real kiss with a surge and a scooch; he liked you all soft and wavering, shivering under his fallen superiority, mostly because it made you seem younger and a little bit because your whole persona stung, cut him good and bleeding. He pressed steadily against your mouth, breathing in roughly, and when you tried to open up to him, he pulled away, stopping you short of yourself, keeping you decent.
"I know," he whispered, letting his breath coat you all drowsy. You memorized his sympathy, and in your dreams he'd never leave.
-
"Movie?"
"Well, probably Sixteen Candles, but maybe Heathers if i'm feeling depressed or something."
"Music?"
"I'm a radio zombie. Don't care too much. Madonna?"
"Dare I ask, book?"
"I liked The Catcher in the Rye."
"You did not!"
"Yes, I did, swear. We're both wanderers."
"You're not a wanderer. She's not a wanderer."
Dustin was tiny and had big greasy hair that reminded you of a pre-pubescent Harrington, still attempting to tame the beast attached to his scalp. He turned to Steve, shaking his head, waiting for some grandiose explanation about why he was slumming it with a prep-slathered richie, so untasteful and so uncultured. Steve shrugged. Maybe he was just happy you'd agreed to meet his strange child friend. Maybe this was marriage, too.
"She can be a wanderer," Steve argued, gesturing vaguely at your crossed legs and your navy blouse, your proper form. "If she wants," he added, grinning softly.
"What about you, Dustin? I mean, what makes you and Steve so wholly compatible?" He grimaced at your backhanded smile, stuffing a two hands of stubby fingers in his pockets.
"Huh?" he retorted, incredulous. Steve bit his thumb, leaning back into the booth (Salty's Diner, six PM).
"I mean, what is it about you that makes you worthy of his grace? That is what we're talking about here, isn't it?"
"Yeah, well, Steve and I, we get each other." His insincerity melted into his downturned expression, culminating in a soft mumble at the end of his statement.
"You get each other?" You glanced accusingly between the two, forcing down a mocking giggle. "Steve, a grown man, and you, a dorky freshman, get each other?" Steve kicked your foot from under the table, tilting and parenting, just a little bit, too.
"Hey, don't be mean. He's a cool kid." His mouth went flat, and you could see his hollow brain trying to configure Dustin's personality into a complementary frame. "Total smarty pants." He patted him on the shoulder assertively. It was charming, but guy pushing a stroller sort of charming, when you can tell he's soft because he holds a crying baby or doesn't kick a puppy.
"New topic," you teased, slyly bringing your glass for Cherry Coke up to your lips. Dustin attempted to mediate.
"What're you bringing to the Christmas party? Steve won't let me make my own pie. He says it's dangerous." A sharp string cut the table in half. Dustin ate a fry. The innocence eluded you, and a hankering for blood consumed your complexion; it all reeked of the sorts of ordeals you might get yourself in when you were in middle school, girls with secret hangs and boys with half-truths.
"Party?" you questioned, sharpening your teeth.
"Yeah, the Christmas Eve party, at his house," Dustin clarified, fitting in another fry. "His mom makes a great turkey," he managed out over his muffled mouth full. Steve sat silently, captivated by the wall art.
"Oh, I bet." Your unpleased expression swiftly fell, revealing a stained grin that had been copied over years and years of vapid hate. Steve shivered with his eyes, but didn't let his shoulders faltered, clearing his throat as he re-adjusted his position in the booth. You would've gutted him if it had been a table for two, but then this wouldn't be the case at all, you supposed.
"It's a small thing," Steve coughed out, shifting again. "Not a big deal."
The month was a dreadful descent, one that leaked into your bones and made you terribly mushy with the worry. It was carbs and sweat upper lips and poorly fitted jeans. The daydream proved to be a temporary fix.
-
You knew why, of course. Why he wouldn't tell you, or invite you, or tell you but not invite you, disregarding your distress with a fatal apology. Maybe this was the most marriage thing out of all the marriage things. It was ironic in that way, because all of this was emblematic of a drastic non-commitment, but still somehow indicative of the behaviors that commitment invites into a relationship. You figured he wanted a rest from you, and you figured that his parents must've heard about the specifics of your escapades. You figured you were being shunned.
You knew why, but you didn't mention it, and you let him drive you home and you let him kiss you at the door. You let him hold his hands in fists and be quiet on the road, too, because his unwavering anticipation was his punishment. There was hardly any kindness left. You wanted him to burn as well.
-
Your unkempt Christmas eve was another party, which was so unbearably predictable that you refused to tell Steve it was happening, no matter the repercussions for such an omission. Carol was there, of course, as she was everywhere, judging without restraint. Tommy came, and he brought his Ohio friends, and they brought their friends, and so there was a guy, twenty-three or so, called Dick, or Rich, because he said he liked either, and you said that was rich (funny girl, flirty girl), and he liked you in a very party way. You played suck and blow, and he kissed you then, which felt so raw, so intangible, that you nearly puked again.
Steve got you a tennis bracelet. He gave it to you a few days early, wrapped in paper that was blue and green and like the sea, and he said he'd been saving up for something imaginary anyways, so he thought it would be best to spend it now, for you. It wasn't diamond, of course, although the one you had that was diamond, a gift from a previous romantic escapade, hardly compared, not in sentimentality. Still, you left the bracelet on the jewelry tray beside your bed when you went down to set up for the party; the event itself felt like a betrayal, after all. You got him a sweater, but you hadn't gotten a chance to give it to him yet.
So, suck and blow. This guy, Dick or Rich or Richard if you knew him well, ironically, was cute, and even worse, had the hair, the Steve Hair-ington hair. He stuck his tongue in your mouth, and you choked on it, and everyone laughed, but he gave you the sex look, so you shuddered, too. Since you'd never had a real actual boyfriend, you'd never really actually cheated. This was morally debilitating. You didn't think the lack of freedom that monogamy inevitably granted would bother you, and maybe it didn't, maybe it was just the guilt that came with promiscuity instead, not the desire for it, that wrecked you so completely. Whatever it might've been, it ached and ached and fissured, up your arm and down your neck, contracting and expanding and pulling you together a bit too tight.
Carol asked about Steve again, whether or not you had invited him, but it was only a series of "no" and "duh" that followed, your wallowing increased by tenfold.
Dick or Rich or Richard or Dickard had a foot in his mouth and a dog in his brain. He touched your shoulder. He came like a ghost up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, breathing beer into your collarbone. If you closed your eyes, his hair tickling your ear, it could maybe be Steve, and you softened at that. You felt like ice when he tried to kiss you again, your body stiff as he pressed into you. It had never felt so gory before. You thought of Steve again, missed him, and figured yourself a baby for that, too.
You had another drink, another beer, another shot, or something strong, and then you let Richard take you to your room. He liked your frilly throw. He liked your old pictures. He pointed at one of Steve, and then he kissed you like it was real. It felt like when you eat a sour candy for the first time when you're real little, five of six, and it blows your head off and makes you want to cry, but then you get lost in that, even if your tongue bleeds and your mouth purses all funny. He said you were serious hot stuff for a Hawkins party. He said he'd seen you before, back in high school, and he'd always regretted not saying something.
"Is Steve your boyfriend?" he asked, looking away as he undid his jeans. You fiddled with the ankle of your sock, legs pretzeled over each other. "I mean, I heard you talking about him earlier, with Carol."
"No." You shook your head adamantly, but the drinks made it oddly exaggerated. He turned back, pushing his pants to the floor. "No," you affirmed, straightening yourself out before moving over to him, smiling and reaching for another sloppy kiss.
He fingered you for a minute or so, and then he pushed you back and tried to make it real some more. It hurt in a way that it never did. You were aware that it was biologically correct, but there was a sting in your limbs and a blister on your heart that made it feel so glaringly wrong. He wasn't even that large. You wanted to laugh, but when he asked you how it felt you just made a breathy noise and pulled his head into the crook of your neck, spurring him on.
You were too drunk to argue for a condom. You were too drunk to move by the time he did that ugly man groan and fell down on top of you. It hit you like a nasty flu.
Without a second word or a "thank you" or a "never again", you dressed yourself and left him on your bed, reeling.
In the dark pit of the night, it was Charlotte Street, and you were absentminded, a loose grip on the wheel. It was the shittiest of the family cars, the one with the wide turns and the occasional stall, but it was small, and it was dim, and it was the first one in the driveway that evening. You were speeding. You thought that maybe you were crying, but you couldn't have been sure, wet face slowly numbing. Steve was in the passenger's seat, and he was in the back, in the trunk, a floating, disembodied head in the rearview mirror, a carcass on the road. He was on your lap, but you were on his, and it was 83, and you were kissing and kissing and then he was grabbing your throat and then you were dead, but he didn't stop kissing you.
And so the road is thin, and so the drive is hesitant, wobbly and weaving. That same self-destructive brain from all previous exploding conversations was the one to urge you to jerk the wheel, to drive into the forest and never wake up.
At the age of thirteen, riding your bike down the neighborhood drive, your wheel got hooked on a rock on the road, the vehicle skidding to a halt as you lost your balance, leg getting caught in the mechanism. A few scratches, a bump on the head, and a skinned knee; you still cried. The world ended on the pavement, and it was born again in the kitchen, bandaged and reassured, with a cough and a shrug. Other than this incident, you had trotted through life generally unscathed. Most of your major injuries were purely emotional, a few select moments from parties or concerts when things went awry, and your optimism was snatched up without a second thought.
There was a deer, large and foreboding, frozen and wide-eyed, an omen. Your legs became solid, icy, and they melted, and you had no limbs.
You were thirteen, your ankle caught in the mechanism, but you weren't crying, possibly unable and possibly unwilling, but still felt a surge, a jolt and a slam, your nose going straight to the dash. It passed it, though, your nose scraping against the wheel as your unbuckled waist lifted from the seat, head surging forward, scalp threatening the windshield. Your emerged through the car in a birth-like scene. If felt anything at all, you felt an immense pressure, a swift hammer to your skull, as you immerged, glass cutting into your skin as you landed face-first into the hood.
The impact hit your nose like a brick, the cartilage bending, fissuring, flattening, and you heard the rebel yell of your limbs following close behind, your wrist bending awkwardly beneath your chest. You slid across the hood, the windshield scraps digging harsh into your skin, drawing lines down your arms and your cheeks and your neck; this was like the months in England, the slow deconstruction on the plane. But pain hit slow, and all it was at first was noise, crashing and bending and halting, the night's children whispering around you.
The deer laid misshaped in front of the car, and it cried before it died. From your face-first position, lifting up your chin slightly, you saw it fall limp.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x you#steve x reader#steve harrington imagine
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Lisle Route Overview in Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem
Per a request on the discord, because my brain is only 7kpp now 😍
Character Creator/Personality Notes
You cannot be a Tomboy Countess
Personality MUST be noble as opposed to selfish.
(You can get away with starting out indifferent & immoral if you're manipulative enough to hide it.)
Generally speaking, choose eloquent options. Make jokes! He does have a good sense of humor, since that's pretty much the only break from duty that he allows himself.
Acknowledge and respect the responsibilities of rank.
Welcome Feast
First impression is likeability (beauty, charm, charisma, etiquette). I'm not sure if it's been re-balanced for Early Access, but for the demo the guide broke it down that you got +5 friendship at 60 likeability, +10 @ 100, and +15 @ 120, so as long as you don't tank all four stats, you should be fine.
+5 friendship for "friendly" greeting. (A polite greeting won't bring anything down if you want the etiquette boost.)
Insight check & +5 friendship choice is "compliment his sister"
The best 'tell him about yourself' option is "engaging" which requires 30 eloquence. (Possible with the "introduce yourself politely" option at the end of the CC, if you didn't take a full eloquence boost to get you to 50.) Either the charming or becoming (charisma) options will also get you friendship, but only +5 instead of +10.
You must also successfully greet and get along with Penelope!
Her first impression is also likeability.
Her ideal first dialogue choice is "make her laugh" which requires 30 charm; next is "reassure her" which requires the same 30 eloquence as Lisle's best answer. I think 'inspire' requires leadership.
The default "smile" for the greeting choice is still fine though, just not as many friendship points.
Be "glad she's there" for the insight check.
Rescuing her from Jarrod maybe helps? But I may be making that up because it feels like it should narratively but it's not in any of my guides.
Hosting
Lisle will attend all three of the potential hosted events for week one (tea / musicale / history) if you make a decent impression at the welcome feast. I think you can still unlock his route if you just invite Penelope however, and she will attend both the tea and the musicale but not the lecture. You do get a higher +Wellin Approval boost for the musicale as long as you invite either of them, so that's usually the one I do when I'm planning on playing Lisle's route.
For week 3, Lisle can't attend the ladies' night, while Penelope won't attend the Onvu Tournament, but you can get both of them to the midnight picnic. I think they both give better boosts for the picnic too, but I didn't write it down, so I'm not sure.
Week 1 Invite
Don't be insulted that you're kept waiting for the ride with Lisle.
Either greeting is fine once he gets there, (if you have enough etiquette to see the "polite" one), but he laughs if you rant about last night's sleep which is great.
"Adore" that he brought Penelope
As long as you don't complain about the horse your relationship won't go down, but animal knowledge or persuasive will get you a higher respect bonus than either defensive or quick thinking.
IF you have at least 20 politics, 50 insight, and are ethical, you can ask Lisle about his goals for the summit.
Otherwise, as long as you're not all greedy/overt and asking about getting to be queen, the other two options (holding up/something about yourself) are both fine.
Formal Introductions
Don't have your ambition be "my best future"
Between nations/best serve my nation won't *hurt* but only give bonuses to your BG nation's approval
"Katyia" gives approval & respect bonuses
Don't lie about your ambition unless you're at least at 300 persuasion/50 manip.
Weeks 2 & 3
Request Penelope join your team for the ship race. (She's ideal for the morale check so it's a good pick regardless.)
For Penelope's breakfast, I don't think it matters? (I mean, don't be mean to her, obviously, but I don't think it effects any Lisle stats there.)
The best gift for him is the Pirate book.
For the MM date, start with either "Penelope" or "spent some time"
"Of course" is the best answer to 'bother you?' but 'rather be here' will also work.
Pick trust or communication for the 'most important' question
"Far worse fates" is the best answer to his confession, but "thank you" will also work.
Talk to the matchmaker about him and make it clear you know what you're doing
BE TACKLE-HUGGED BY PENELOPE AT THE FEAST, 🎉
TL;DR Be a responsible adult, be nice to his sister, have a sense of humor, and you should be fine!
I don't have as much of a breakdown for how to *continue* his route (and also I don't remember where the demo cuts off vs the Early Access which isn't quite public yet) but basically you can get more respect & friendship by being eloquent and dutiful and encouraging Penelope when you get the chance.
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#beautiful things list in the tags#so i can remember a day that seemed full of them#going to the religious bookstore and finding lots of things (the beautiful advent wreath!)#quick trip to the library and picking up a couple of middle grade books on a whim#(short things that don't add much to the overwhelming tbr but add a bit of joy into the options list)#going to wendy's and getting a lime coke#listening to fascinating religious history things that opened up new ideas and made new connections with what i'd been reading#wedding dress shopping with my sister#in a cute little shop with nice staff#where i felt like my input was helpful#wandering a bit in a city we never go to#in a rainy chilly late night atmosphere that felt very hallmark christmas movie#(in a good cozy way not in the over-the-top christmas decorations way)#thrift shopping and finding a lightweight sweater that fills a need in my wardrobe#(since we've had a warm year that limits me to only a few of my sweaters)#coming home and finding that a book i ordered had arrived#lots of lovely poem recommendations and conversations#some sights on a rainy day that filled me with that fantasy sort of awe and longing#seeing a distant shore through a fog that looked like an ancient castle rising up out of the mist#a hill of plants topped with crimson leaves that looked like a fabric or wallpaper pattern come to life#it was just a day filled with a lot of beauty#and i made a conscious effort to notice it#one of those days you want to keep
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9 lines 9 people
ok confession these games scare me bc tagging people still intimidates me but i'm being brave today here's some lines i wrote a while back from the dragons of kiltide. just fabin having a little teenage angst. also this is 9 (11 but shh the context!!) paragraphs bc i still don't know how to shut the fuck up. thank you @space-writes for the tag <3
the raedoran cycle
[Fabin] tilts his head, pressing his forehead to the window frame. “What are dreams like?” he asks quietly.
Emilia sits across from him, watching how his eyes stare through the window but see nothing. She thought he'd left that behind in the weeks and months after their parents were killed, thought the long silences were finally over. She tucks her arms against her sides. “They're...like memories. Only more vivid.”
His fingers close around the hilt of his sword. “What do you dream about?”
She rolls her shoulders. “Places I've never been. Things I've never seen.”
One of his hands presses against the glass. “Do you ever dream of...of humans?”
She studies him with a worried frown. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
He recoils, his expression twisting with anger before it closes off. “No. I'm fine. I don't have dreams.” He turns away from her. “Never mind.”
Emilia sighs. “I talked Muiris down. He doesn't want to kill you anymore.”
“Good for him.”
“You should apologize for breaking his foot.”
Fabin turns to face her again, his eyes wide. “I actually broke it?”
tagging @oh-no-another-idea @zmwrites @akindofmagictoo @writinglyra @k--havok @lyssa-ink @aether-wasteland-s @ink-flavored @avrablake to share 9 (or more or less or however many you feel like!) lines of writing <3
#oh fabin......who are you dreaming about??#could it be.......a pair of grey-eyed sisters..........and a man in a purple cloak...............and a cottage at the edge of the forest???#no obviously it's none of these things. he doesn't have dreams dragons don't have dreams!!#emilia does but that's because she's /weird/ and has that whole red moon thing going for her. fabin is a NORMAL dragon#who has NORMAL feeling about humans. obviously#writeblr#writeblr community#tag game#original fiction#fantasy novel#the raedoran cycle#dragons#fabin#emilia#muiris#(pronounced like “more-eece”)#rb original#fabin dropped a cart of wheat on muiris's foot. muriris is his mentor the local miller and is a grumpy asshole himself#he's the one who gives fabin his sword and teaches him how to use it. this scene takes place about three years after that#anyway one of the reasons i've been struggling with dragons is because the plot is not super action heavy--it's rlly more an emotional dram#it's about two siblings grappling with the aftermath of an ethnic cleansing/massacre that they survived#but not before witnessing their parents' murder#and it hits close to home in a lot of ways that (esp recently) make it very hard to write#but slowly i am getting my head and heart around the plot#(sort of) unrelated but i remember coming up with keelan's general backstory in mid 2023 and then at the end of the year being completely#unable to work on the first chapter of lacuna at all because i would break down crying anytime i tried to put the massacre to words#realizing that's why dragons has been so hard for me is. difficult. because the story feels even more important now. but g-d at what cost
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I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain
Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it
i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)
really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!
undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.
i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.
people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.
peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.
it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."
so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.
people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.
autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.
#a lot of my traits have been exacerbated lately and i remember it was much easier for me before#and some of my friends have said “oh it's because you've been masking too long and now you're facing autistic burnout.”#and that made sense to me i think.#but then i found out about the stress thing. me overproducing stress hormone. and that's a very physical thing.#and that explains why i've been overstimulated more than usual lately. and why everything feels like too much.#and i wonder how many of these traits of mine are going to subside once i have lamar removed#and it makes me wonder a lot of things. and it's so weird how much your brain is tied to your biology.#i wonder how much i'll change. i wonder how i'll feel. i wonder if i'll still feel like me. i wonder how much me is me right now.#and how much of me is being altered by weird freaky hormones. who am i?? who will i be??#i'm almost looking at this as like. a superhero origin story of some sort. like this is my spider-bite moment. maybe.#will i be different? will i cope with things differently?? now that my body isn't fighting something anymore??#maybe i'll be normal. i don't know. i don't know.#i don't know what it'll mean for me.#but all of these things mean i relate to peter parker in a certain kind of way#i don't think you have to be diagnosed with autism to recognise and empathise with those traits i think#i think everyone can see themselves in peter. and i think that's the benefit of having characters that aren't diagnosed.#because there's so much overlap in the human experience. and certain feelings aren't exclusive to just one group of people.#peter has such a rich identity actually. it's an autistic thing. it's a queer thing. it's a jewish thing. it's a trauma thing.#there are so many overlapping parts of peter's identity that inform who he is and how he behaves and it's never just one thing.#it's a product of all of his things.#just like me! just like everyone.#so me? i guess i can be a million things. you can explain what i am in a million different ways.#a hundred different psychologists can all come up with different ways to explain why i be the way i be.#i don't think it's something that can be simplified.#sorry wow. i'm really going off here in the tags.#i hope people don't think i'm stupid. i don't know brain science. i'm just philosophising as usual.#sci speaks
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Hmm.
..What if I just made one massive document that holds all of the key information for each of my selfships, so that it all can be accessed from a single link?
("key information" here would include: tags on the blog, a paragraph about the respective F/O and self-insert, then how we meet in-story, key events in the selfship (confession, significant plot points, etc.), then probably a section about fankids if I have any for that selfship)
#i don't have enough element space to do this on my carrd. and my toyhouse wouldn't quite work because that's meant to be character-specific#plus I remembered that google docs (of all things) has the ability to add tabs to one document so it's like sub-documents almost#and wouldn't that fit what i'm looking for in terms of organisation/layout?#since I want one separate page for each of my selfships.. but all accessible from a central point/easy to flick between each one#so if someone wanted they could read a bit of info about any of my selfships without having to trawl through individual tags necessarily#I don't know I just think this might be neat to have! so.. maybe if I have the time (and motivation) I might try this#what do you think? is this something that might be useful?#heart of the void#selfshipping#blog logistics#..sort of#I don't know I just use that tag for all sorts. it helps that i'm not 100% familiar with the actual definition of the word ''logistics''#but this sort of ''posting about posting''/things like blog layout and tag formats and whatnot all feels like it fits under that umbrella#so yeah
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A big problem with the way Nora handles the diversity is that it only matters in the story when the characters in question are getting called slurs or generally being victimised. Outside of that it has no influence.
Like when Laila (I get them mixed up too, so maybe not her, but Cat) gets called the n-word. When does her identity ever matter in the story outside of that? Because I can't remember a time it ever did.
If Nora doesn't have the time in the book to unpack what it would've been like for Laila in that time period properly, and truthfully I think it's okay if she doesn’t, then I think she should opt for it to not matter at all. In my opinion, it's better for it to not matter at all than for it to only matter when a character wants to be racist.
But then I would also then say there's the issue of nobody but the two main white characters having any depth. If Laila did have depth, I'd probably be more forgiving about this.
Even more so, it's not helped by the fact that the excuse for slurs in the original was often that it's accurate to the time period - which is true and, I think, fair. And while that is also true in the new book, she also doesn't stick to the time period fully in the new one like she did in the old. You can't have time period accuracy as a reason for slurs if you're okay with having group chats in the early 2000s.
i don't entirely agree with your first point: the diversity also comes to the fore when characters are cooking or eating traditional foods from their cultures as well as when they are speaking different languages. in the og trilogy the multilingualism is more so a plot-related contrivance but in jean's books each of the main characters beside jeremy has a native language that isn't english. even so, none of the languages beside french are really focused on. and as for the food idk this is my personal pet-peeve but due to having limited interest in culinary arts irl i also couldn't care less about what fictional characters cook or eat and i'm annoyed when authors try to use that as a character-building device. so when coach rhemann's husband, our token slavic character who otherwise entertained me by some lively dialogue, served jean the obligatory traditional dish it made me roll my eyes. stop overcompensating, nora😅
the slurs thing i would categorize not as a diversity writing issue but as a villains writing issue. the slurs and different flavors of bigotry are nora's way of having her bad guys kick a puppy in these new books. jeremy's conservative family are racists and homophobes so we hate them - no particular depth there. riko is also shown to have been a raging homophobe - it just makes sense, you know, on account of him being evil and all. except in the og books he and nathan didn't need to kick any queer puppies to be successfully and convincingly evil. i'm not posthumously defending riko lol i just think it was more compelling when problematic words used to be said by the characters we're generally meant to root for and the bad guys used to be more fucked up and scary. to come back to your point: i agree that nora's best option would be to forgo the bigotry and focus on other ways how to make her villains evil. (maybe even some plot-related ways who knows who's to say)
(lol this reminds me when i first read son nefes it was so jarring to see the f-word in the scene where nicky and the twinyards are first introduced to the team - not bc it's a problematic word but bc it's signaling a completely different level of discourse. like we were just fighting for our lives with murderous sociopathic mafiosi and now this? oh you sweet summer children😅).
and yes, as per the previous tgr diversity ask, i do think that the real issue is that poc characters in jean's books just aren't interesting enough / lack depth / however you want to put it. like, nicky is biracial. yes, his mexican identity isn't foregrounded much and yes, nora might have tapped into some problematic stereotypes - but despite all that nicky is undeniably a whole ass character. he has a function in the story, he influences the plot and the relationships around him, he has iconic lines and dedicated scenes. he's totally the comedic relief archetype but also i'm never in any danger of mixing him up with any other character - bc all of them are distinct and help each other stand out even more. i can't speak to how satisfactory this rep is but given a choice between a whole ass character like nicky and someone like laila who i can't tell apart from the rest but who does cook traditional foods, speak her language to her parents and get called slurs - aka the trifecta of poc rep written by a white author lol - i will always prefer the former.
totally agree with the last point. if we're in a trans inclusive 2000s sports au other utopian time period inconsistencies can be allowed. i would have preferred it the other way round tho. i enjoy the 2000s vibes of aftg and i don't like how the new books feel as if they take place in 2024. i want to escape into the distant past (2007) thank you very much
#aftg mine#aftg ask#book tag#i forgot to mention one thing in my first tgr post#i remember from my hayday as an aftg discourse blog that neil discourse was about fanon neil#and andrew discourse was about him being Problematic#whereas my recent perusal of the tag showed that people embrace neil's canon personality much more readily#neil the godfather josten etc etc#whereas andrew posts are like. he's just a normal guy!! dating a freaky hot mafia man!!#(also neil's deminess is more accepted i think)#anyways i'm delighted by these developments and i was wondering if the shift in the fandom perception of andreil was caused by the new book#on the one hand by their new canon appearances that reaffirmed their canon personalities and reminded people what they actually are like#on the other hand by the simple fact that people who were into fanon andreil now have more jerejean content to play with#and to live out their grumpy/sunshine opposites attract fantasies through#i noticed this on tumblr - it's harder to say on ao3 bc i don't sort fic chronologically#is nature healing?#please share your thoughts
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looking at the people in my life who are doing the things i gave up to be here and thinking god i could have been happy
#not in a social media posting thing in a#they're part of activities i gave up for this??? really????#sort of way#or studying things i wish i wasn't so quick to turn away from#doubted the whole oh you'll be happy doing whatever schtick you're so good at enjoying everything#but still went with it anyways#i don't know if I've ever actually enjoyed anything other than winning#im so good at winning at school and that's it but no one asks you why do you want to be at school :)#except for college apps and guess what i sucked at that too#don't think I've ever really wanted to be anything why is that so wrong#i just don't know where it happened was i born with it?#result of parenting?#schooling?#peers?#the media i consumed?#was it all my own fault and if so which choices did i make get me here#it's been that way since i can remember i don't *know* how to want to be something#it's not a thing they taught in school#eggsistential speaks#tag rant
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hi I would really like to hear the story of you getting kicked out of a museum for being a 9/11 fan
Okay, so lets set the stage here. 9/11 happens. I'm pretty young at the time, and I don't remember shit about it.
Several years pass. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wasn't even 10 yet. I develop an absurd obsession with Aviation Disasters. I watch a lot of Seconds from Disaster about this, eventually learning that Human Error is my least favorite cause of incidents because nothing funny happened to the plane.
However.
I learn about 9/11 in school and my first thought is "this is fuckin rad" because there was a big aviation disaster. I love that shit. I learn that this happened because it was deliberate. I then discard this information because it's no longer necessary. Queue the start of my 9/11 Simulation Era.
I use everything. Boxes, cans, whatever is stackable. A few times, I make a cardboard airplane. My parents are none the wiser because they just think I love airplanes (which is true, but only part of it). This goes on for some time.
Now, the museum I mentioned in those tags was called the "Imaginarium" or something like that. Childrens interactive museum. Lotsa fun stuff, and my family took me there often. One of the things they have here (which is, of course, my favorite exhibit) is a flight simulator cabinet.
One day, my obaachan takes me to the Imaginarium. I take my time, perusing through all the exhibits, making the big bubble, playing with the air cannon, all that jazz. All the while, I'm SUPER excited to get to the end, where the flight sim is.
The flight sim is running some version of microsoft flight simulator and is locked on a cesna of some sort. It has fully functioning foot pedals, throttle, and flight control. I eat this shit up every time for as long as whoever is taking me will let me. You probably already know the shape of this.
The space they have you fly over is like, a small city with surrounding countryside. As luck would have it, the city has two buildings of remarkably similar height next to each other. Sure, I'm piloting a cesna and not a passenger liner, but I don't care. I'm in the moment, I'm fucking crazed out of my tiny child MIND about 9/11, and I can do ANOTHER simulation. In my head, I'm the second plane. I get close enough to the ground (having played the simulator a lot, certainly enough to be familiar with the controls), and I set course, full throttle, for the Second Tower.
As I collide (and the plane bounces around because the game doesn't do exploding planes for some reason lol), I say aloud, and very audibly, "Oh my god, they hit the second tower." Or something to that effect.
It's maybe been 5 or so years since 9/11, so while it's not 100% fresh in peoples memories, it's near the surface of a lot of people's minds. The attendant at the counter not far from where I'm sitting looks at me after I say this, makes a 100% correct read on what I'm fucking doing and what's going on, looks at my obaachan and tells her in no uncertain terms that we need to leave and that "this disrespect cannot be tolerated here."
I don't go to that museum again for many many years, and when I do finally return (for a field trip or something), the flight sim is gone.
But it's okay because I pestered a great many of my caretakers (including my foster parent at one point) with my 9/11 sims, and I'd do it again in a fuckin caffeinated heartbeat.
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at this point I'm down to following only one tag on tumblr dot com and it's on really thin ice
#I know there's more than one post per month in the 'painting' tag tumblr#why do you feel the need to show me the exact same image every twelve posts. repeatedly. for days and days#sometimes they are good and nice paintings but sometimes (even if I appreciated them the first time) I am receiving psychic damage#I feel like there used to be some sort of 'don't show me this particular post again' thing you could click#but now it's gone?? idk I don't remember#I'd love to see posts about my interests outside of just who I follow in theory#but this feature is not working very well? and this is what they're trying to transition the site to????#lol I remember in that one post from staff a while ago#they were talking about how they were trying to make dashboard content less repetitive#implied that shifting more towards 'for you' and away from 'following' would somehow accomplish that?#just saying that the tiny taste of that I have on my following dash is...by far the most repetitive
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Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep
There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.
I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.
Forums
The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.
Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.
This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.
Tumblr
You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.
There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:
Jcink Tinder
RPG Adverts
RPings
There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.
Reddit
Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -
Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:
r/DiscordRP
r/RoleplayPartnerSearch
r/roleplaying
r/Roleplay
Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.
Discord
In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:
roleplay partner hub
Rockin Roleplay
The Roleplay Garden
roleplay help
the roleplay connection
RP Central
Roleplay Central
Roleplay Hub
Barbermonger also has a Discord server
Roleplay Meets: Reborn
RP Hub
The Scribes Guild
DM Rp Village
cherry blossom! roleplay hub
DM-RP
Roleplay Round Table (21+)
The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)
The Roleplayer's Directory
If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.
Other
The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.
Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!
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Little Sister ( Sullyoon x Male Reader )
tags : angst smut

"Hey, Sully," I called out as I tossed my backpack onto the couch, the jingle of keys and the thud of textbooks echoing through the quiet house.
My sister looked up from the TV, a half-eaten bag of chips in her lap. "Oh, you're home," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Want to watch 'Friends' with me?"
I hovered in the doorway, my thoughts racing. The rumors at school had been persistent, and they painted a picture of her that was so starkly different from the little girl I remembered playing hide and seek with. But as she sat there, in her oversized sweatshirt and shorts that barely covered her thighs, I couldn't help but notice the way her legs curled under her, the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was nervous.
"What's up?" she asked, sensing the shift in my tone. She sat up straighter, the bag of chips falling to the floor unnoticed.
I stepped into the room, my eyes never leaving hers. "I've been hearing some…stuff, about you at school," I began, my voice measured. "Things that are a bit, you know, personal."
Sullyoon's expression froze, and she swallowed hard. The TV laugh track played in the background, a bizarre contrast to the sudden tension that filled the room. She looked down at her hands, playing with the hem of her sweatshirt. "What stuff?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
I took a deep breath, my eyes traveling over her body, taking in the way she'd grown, the curves she'd developed. "They say you're really…good at something," I said, my voice thick with the effort of keeping it neutral. "Something that's got all the guys talking."
Sullyoon's cheeks flushed, and she bit her bottom lip harder. "What are they saying?" she asked, her eyes darting to the side.
I stepped closer, my heart racing. "They say you know how to make a guy feel…really good," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "That you're…exceptional at it."
Sullyoon's eyes widened, and she swiped a strand of hair from her face. "It's just…stupid rumors," she protested, but her voice wavered, and she couldn't hold my gaze.
I walked over to the TV and turned it off with a sharp click. The sudden silence was deafening. "Is it?" I asked, my eyes never leaving hers. "Because if it's true, then you're pretty popular."
Sullyoon's cheeks burned even redder, and she squirmed in her seat. "It's just…I don't know, it just sort of happened," she mumbled, looking away.
I stepped closer, unable to believe what I was hearing. "How?" I demanded, my voice a mix of anger and fascination. "How did you become the school's…expert?"
Sullyoon took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt. "It was at a party," she began, her voice small and shaky. "A bunch of the senior guys dared me to suck off the school's jock. It was just a stupid bet."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the revelation. I stared at her, trying to process the image of my baby sister doing something so…adult. "That's all it was?" I managed to ask, not quite believing the simplicity of her explanation.
Sullyoon nodded, her eyes still downcast. "Yeah," she murmured. "It was just that one time. But then, people talked, and it just…spiraled."
I stared at her, taking in her delicate features, the way her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. Her plump, pink lips, the same ones that had apparently been wrapped around the jock's dick, now trembled slightly with apprehension. My mind reeled, trying to reconcile the innocent girl I knew with the brazen teenager she'd apparently become.
"You're not going to tell Mom and Dad, are you?" she asked, her voice a desperate whisper. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading.
Without a word, I took a step closer and reached out my hand. Gently, I brushed my thumb along the bottom part of her lip, feeling the softness of her skin and the slight dampness from her nervousness. She didn't pull away, but she did look at me with annoyance
"Oppa," she said, her voice a warning.
Ignoring her, I leaned in closer, my hand still hovering near her face. "You know what, Sully?" I said, my voice low and serious. "I'll make you a deal. I won't tell Mom and Dad…if you do me a favor."
Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled away slightly. "I'm your little sister oppa" her voice filled with suspicion.
"I know," I said, my tone unyielding. "But you're also the one who's got all the guys at school whispering about you."
Sullyoon's eyes darted down to my hand, and she took a sharp intake of breath as I slowly pulled down my shorts. My cock sprang free, semi-erect from the tension of the moment. The room grew even quieter, the only sounds the steady beat of our hearts and the occasional rustle of fabric as one of us moved slightly. She stared at it.
"I'm your little sister" she repeated, her voice a mix of confusion and fear.
"I know," I said again, my hand resting on my cock. "But I want to see if you're as good as they say."
For a long moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of my proposition hanging between us. Then, with a heavy sigh, Sullyoon leaned back into the couch cushions, her eyes never leaving mine. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and I could see the internal battle playing out on her face. The curiosity in her gaze grew stronger, and she licked her lips, unconsciously mimicking the action she knew was expected of her.
Slowly, she slid off the couch, her bare knees hitting the floor with a soft thud. She leaned in closer, her breath hot on my skin as she studied my cock with a newfound fascination. I watched as she reached out tentatively, her small hand wrapping around the base, her grip tightening slightly as she began to stroke it. My eyes fell closed, and a low groan escaped my lips.
Her movements grew bolder as she took me into her mouth, the warm wetness enveloping me. Her tongue swirled around the tip, teasing and probing, exploring the contours of my shaft as she took more and more of me in. I felt her throat constrict around me, and my hips bucked slightly in response.
Sullyoon's eyes remained locked with mine, watching for any sign of approval or rejection. Her cheeks hollowed with each suck, her mouth moving in a rhythm that was surprisingly skilled for someone so young. Her hand kept working the base of my cock, her fingers playing with my balls as she took me deeper into her mouth.
I could feel the tension in her throat as she took more of me, her eyes watering slightly. Yet she didn't gag or pull away, her mouth moving steadily, almost as if she enjoyed the feeling of having me fill her. My hand found its way into her hair, guiding her, setting the pace. Her cheeks flushed, and she made soft, muffled sounds of effort that only served to turn me on more.
The room grew warmer, the air thick with the scent of our shared arousal. My eyes fluttered shut, and I leaned my head back, lost in the sensation of her mouth on me. Her tongue danced around the head of my cock, teasing the sensitive spot just under the tip, and I couldn't hold back the groan that escaped my lips.
Her hand, which had been stroking me in tandem with her mouth, stopped moving, and she focused all her attention on deep-throating me. The feeling was exquisite, and I felt myself getting closer to the edge with each passing second. My grip on her hair tightened, and I gently rocked my hips, pushing deeper into her mouth.
Sullyoon's eyes watered more, but she didn't break our eye contact. Instead, she took it as a challenge, her eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and excitement. She started to bob her head faster, taking me in deeper with each bob. I could feel her throat contract around my cock, and the sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
With a sudden urgency, I pulled out of her mouth, my hand moving to grip the base of my cock. She looked up at me, slightly surprised, her mouth open and glistening with spit. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"I'm going to cum," I told her, my voice tight with need.
Sullyoon's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't move away. Instead, she leaned in closer, watching with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as I began to stroke myself. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, her eyes never leaving the hand that moved up and down my shaft. She was so close that I could feel her breath against my skin, hot and eager.
As I stroked myself, I felt the pressure build, my balls tightening, the base of my cock swelling. I took a deep breath and let it out in a hiss, and with a final, powerful thrust of my hips, I painted her face with ropes of cum. She blinked as the first shot landed on her cheek, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned in even closer, her tongue darting out to catch a drop that slid down from my cockhead to her lip.
Sullyoon's eyes remained fixed on mine, a strange mix of curiosity and desire swirling in their depths. She licked her lips clean, swiping up every last bit of my cum with a greedy flick of her tongue. Then she reached out and wiped a strand of cum that had landed on her cheek. She held it up to show me before slowly sucking it off her finger.
"Happy?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm as she wiped the last of my cum from her cheek with the back of her hand.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "More than you know," I replied, my voice gruff with arousal.
I took a step back, my cock still in my hand, and grinned down at her. "I want you to come to my room tonight," I said, my voice low and demanding. "When everyone's asleep."
Sullyoon rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards slightly. "Fine," she said, her voice laced with resignation. "I don't want you to tell Mom and Dad."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of tension. We avoided each other's gaze, the unspoken promise hanging between us. Dinner was a silent affair, our parents oblivious to the secret we now shared. Every time I looked at her, I couldn't help but think about the way she'd looked up at me from between my legs, her eyes filled with a mix of anger, fear, and something else that I couldn't quite pinpoint.
Later that night, after our parents had retreated to their room and the house had settled into darkness, I heard the soft click of my door opening. I lay on my bed, stroking my already hard cock as I waited for her to come in. The mattress dipped slightly as she sat down beside me, the quiet rustle of her pajamas the only sound in the stillness.
"You're really going to do this?" she whispered, her voice a mix of annoyance and resentment. I didn't bother to answer, instead choosing to guide her head down to my erection with a firm but gentle hand. She resisted slightly before letting out a huff and wrapping her lips around me once more.
Her mouth was a warm, wet heaven, and she applied just the right amount of pressure as she took me deep into her throat. It was clear she'd had practice, her technique smoother than any girl I'd been with before. The way she moaned around my cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body, was something I never knew could be so erotic.
I could feel her hesitation, the slight tremble in her hand as she held the base of my cock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she took me in deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she worked me over with a fervor that surprised me. The feeling was indescribable, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation, my grip on her hair tightening as I pushed her head down even further.
"Sully," I gasped, my voice tight with lust. "Want me to fuck you?"
Her eyes darted up to meet mine, an eyebrow arching in annoyance. But she didn't pull away from my cock, didn't stop the steady bob of her head. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and took me even deeper, her throat tightening around my shaft.
I paused, my hand in her hair. "I'm serious, Sully," I said, my voice low and intense. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
Sullyoon pulled back, her mouth slipping off my cock with a wet pop. She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "No, this is as far as we go oppa" she hissed.
I grabbed her by the arms, pulling her up onto the bed. She squealed in protest, but I ignored her, my desperation overruling any sense of propriety I might have had. I pushed her back onto the pillows, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.
"Oppa, stop!" she protested, trying to wriggle away, but I held her firmly in place. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Her legs felt warm and smooth beneath my hands as I spread them apart, revealing the damp cotton of her pajamas. I leaned in, my breath hot against her skin, and whispered, "I don't think you're being honest with me"
Sullyoon's eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't resist as I slid my hand up her thigh, my thumb grazing the fabric of her pajamas. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her nipples pushing against the thin material of her top. I could feel the heat between her legs, and it only served to make me harder.
"You're wet," I murmured, a smirk playing on my lips. "Does sucking me off make you hot?"
Sullyoon's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, and she glared up at me. But she didn't deny it, her body betraying her true feelings. I slid my thumb under the waistband of her pajamas, feeling the slickness of her arousal. She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back a whimper, but the sound still escaped, music to my ears.
I leaned down, my mouth inches from hers. "You like it, don't you?" I whispered, my breath warm against her skin.
I pushed her pajama pants down, revealing her bare, shaved pussy. It was pink and swollen with desire, and I couldn't help but groan at the sight. "So beautiful," I murmured, my voice thick with lust.
Sullyoon's eyes widened with a mix of shock and excitement as I leaned down to kiss her inner thigh, her legs trembling slightly. "Oppa," she protested weakly, but her body was already responding, arching towards me.
My mouth watered as I took in the sweet scent of her arousal, and I knew that she was lying. She liked this, she liked the power she had over me, and she liked the way I was making her feel. I kissed my way up her thigh, closer to her wetness, and she gasped when I finally reached the apex.
Her pussy was glistening with need, and I couldn't resist the urge to taste her. I licked her slit from bottom to top, savoring the tangy taste of her. She tasted like sin, and I was eager to devour every inch of her. Her protests had turned into whimpers, and she was now grabbing fistfuls of my hair, urging me closer.
I parted her folds with my tongue, finding her clit and flicking it rapidly. She squirmed and bucked her hips, trying to escape the intense pleasure, but I held her down, eager to hear the sweet sounds of her climax. Her breath came in short gasps, her chest rising and falling as I worked her closer to the edge.
"Oh, fuck," she whispered, her voice strained. "Oppa, please…I'm going to…"
Her words trailed off into a moan as I increased the pressure, my tongue circling her clit with a practiced skill that seemed to surprise even her. Her legs quivered around my head, her thighs tightening as she approached the peak of her pleasure.
"Don't hold back," I murmured against her wetness, feeling her body tense up. "Let it out."
And with that, she did. Her back arched off the bed, and she let out a keening cry as her orgasm washed over her. Her hips bucked, pushing her pussy into my mouth, and I greedily lapped up every drop of her juices, feeling her pulsate against my tongue. Her nails dug into the back of my head, and she shuddered, her legs finally going limp.
I sat back on my heels, watching her as she lay there, panting and trembling. Her chest heaved, and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. I couldn't believe it - she was so responsive, so eager for more. And the look on her face - it was a mix of anger and lust that only made me want to fuck her even harder.
Without a word, I stood up and kicked off my pants, my cock standing at full attention. Sullyoon watched me with a mix of trepidation and excitement, her legs still spread wide, her pussy glistening with arousal. She didn't protest as I climbed over her, settling my weight between her thighs, and she didn't fight as I lined up my cock with her entrance.
Her eyes searched mine for a moment, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all she found was a burning desire that mirrored her own. With a gentle push, I slid into her, feeling her tight, wet warmth envelop me. She gasped, her nails digging into my back as I pushed deeper, filling her completely.
Our movements were slow at first, both of us savoring the newness of this forbidden act. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and she pulled me closer, urging me to move faster. The friction was exquisite, and I couldn't help the low growl that rumbled in my chest as I began to pick up the pace.
"Show me your tits," I grunted, my voice gruff with need.
Sullyoon's eyes flashed with excitement as she reached for the hem of her pajama top. With a quick pull, she exposed her breasts to the cool air, and I couldn't help but groan at the sight. They were smaller than I had imagined, but the perkiness of her nipples and the way they bounced with each of my thrusts made them seem so much more tantalizing.
"Like this?" she asked, her voice filled with a coyness that was entirely new to me.
Sullyoon reached up and pinched her own nipples, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. I could see the pleasure rippling through her body, her breath hitching as she tugged at the sensitive flesh. "No," I said, my voice thick with lust. "I want to see them in your mouth."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't hesitate. She leaned back, her back arching beautifully, and took one of her nipples into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, her hand still playing with her other breast. The sight was intoxicating, and I couldn't hold back a groan. "More," I urged, my hips driving into her with more force.
Her teeth grazed her nipple, and she moaned around it. The feeling was unbelievable, and I found myself getting closer to the edge much faster than I'd anticipated. "You like that, don't you?" I whispered, my voice strained with effort. "You're such a little slut."
Sullyoon's eyes shot to mine, anger and arousal swirling in their depths. But she didn't deny it. Instead, she sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing even more as she played with herself. The sight of her doing something so taboo, so dirty, was almost too much to handle.
I picked up the pace, my cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy with ease. Each thrust brought a gasp from her, her body writhing beneath me in a delicious dance of pleasure and pain. Her eyes never left mine, challenging me to go deeper, to push her further.
"Harder," she murmured, her voice a needy whine. "Fuck me like you mean it, oppa."
Her words sent a bolt of lust through me, and I did as she asked, pounding into her with a ferocity that surprised even me. Her pussy clamped down around me, tightening with every thrust, and I could feel the beginnings of her next orgasm building.
"Yes," I hissed, my hips moving faster. "Take it, take it all."
Sullyoon's eyes fluttered shut as she focused on the sensations building inside her. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps that matched the rhythm of our fucking. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, echoing off the walls like a carnally charged metronome.
I could feel myself getting closer, my balls tightening with the promise of release. "I'm going to cum," I grunted, my voice a mix of warning and triumph.
Sullyoon's eyes snapped open, and she met my gaze, her own eyes dark with lust. "Cum for me, oppa," she breathed, her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down my spine.
Her pussy tightened around me, and I knew she was close too. My strokes grew more erratic, my breath coming in harsh pants as I felt my climax building. The sensation was overwhelming, and I threw my head back, letting out a roar of pleasure as I emptied myself inside her.
Sullyoon's nails dug into my back, her body taut with tension as she met my thrusts. And then she was there too, her orgasm crashing over her in waves that made her whole body shake. Her pussy spasmed around my cock, milking me dry, and I couldn't help but groan as she came apart beneath me.
We lay there for a moment, both of us panting and sweaty, our hearts hammering against each other. I pulled out slowly, watching as my cum leaked from her and pooled on the bed. It was a mess, but it was the most beautiful mess I'd ever seen.
Sullyoon rolled onto her side, her eyes closed, her chest heaving. "What now?" she murmured, her voice laced with a mix of satisfaction and trepidation.
I leaned over her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Now, we keep this between us," I said, my voice gentle but firm. "Our little secret."
Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at me for a long moment, processing my words. Then she nodded, her expression unreadable. "Okay," she murmured, her voice still laced with the aftermath of her climax.
With a smirk, I leaned back, letting her catch her breath. The smell of sex filled the room, a heady mix of sweat and arousal that only served to make me harder. "You're going to love this," I whispered, the promise in my voice unmistakable.
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Winters with Winter
AESPA Winter x M Reader
Tags: SMUT, some fluff, blowjob, missionary, virgin
3.6k words
There was a nip in the air. Winter's arrival was faster than expected. You realized this was going to be yet another winter you were going to spend being a little more lonely than you wished. It wasn't all too bad. Winters weren't completely horrible. The opportunity to snuggle with a hot cup of coffee or chocolate was comforting. You just wished you were snuggling with someone, that's all.
It was yet another chilly morning as you made your way to work. That particular morning, winter had carried with her some generous showers, and fortunately you didn't forget your umbrella that day. In fact, you had two. You forgot an umbrella the previous day and bought an extra one from the store, and now you just travel with 2 umbrellas, because why not.
As you got off from the metro train, you fidgeted with the tight button, trying to open it, before a young woman catches your eye. She was maybe a couple years younger than you, it was hard to tell her age with how strikingly cute she was. She was in a simple blue tee, with a hoodie for protection from the cold. Blonde hair flowing down her neck, and bouncing off the shoulders of her petite body.
She was extremely beautiful and all, but the reason she caught your eye was because she seemed to be extremely nervous, biting her nails as she kept looking outside at the pouring rain, as if she could wish it away to go from 100 to 0 in 2 seconds. You didn't know what it was for, but she clearly needed to be out there. Something made you walk up to her.
"Hey, need an umbrella?" you asked.
She looked up to you, freeing her nails from her mouth.
"Umm, Yeah! Yes I do! OMG I've got an interview and I was so stupid to forget my umbrella." She paused for a moment, seeming to get over the initial excitement of getting hope. "Wait, if you give me yours, what will you do?"
She looked even cuter close up, her hair almost magical and making her look like some sort of angel.
"It's alright, I've got another one. Yesterday I forgot mine and bought an extra," you replied, for some reason wanting her to take it and almost pushing the umbrella in her hands.
"Thank you, I wish I could thank you more but it's already really late for the interview. How do I return this to you?" She put her hands in her handbag. "Maybe I can pay you something..."
"No no, just go do well in your interview. Don't worry about all this."
"Thank you again, I hope you get all the good things in life," she replied before rushing away into the rain with your umbrella in the air.
The small interaction made you feel better. You lost an umbrella. You might never see her again. But it made you feel good. In fact as fate would have it, you would see her again. But not the umbrella.
A few nights later, as you were going home in the metro, couple of fingers tap your shoulder. You look back to see the same girl, in a pretty pink dress this time, surrounded by a thick hoodie. The dress only came down to her thighs, and you were wondering how she went out in this chilling winter with exposed legs.
"Hello, umbrella man. Do you remember me?"
"Wha- Umbrella ma-? Miss I've got a name."
"I bet you do, but you haven't told me it."
You tell her your name and offer her your hand, covered in gloves. Unsurprisingly, her legs weren't the only unexposed skin, and her bare palm meets your gloves.
"Winter."
"Yeah, it's cold. That's why I've got them on."
"No, my name's Winter," she replied, giggling, making the cutest noise.
"Huh? Cute name. No wonder you seem to be handling it so well."
"Yes I was born with the powers to handle winter, which my parents sensed so excellently," she joked, giggling again. "Oh wait your umbrella, let me return it." She shoved her hands in her hand bag, searching for a solid 2 minutes before she looks up at you with a dejected face. "Sorry... I forgot it again."
"That's alright, I didn't hope to retrieve it anyway. How did your interview go though?"
"It went great, I was offered the job. The least I can do is return it for you. Which station do you get off on?"
"Antarse Street"
"Oh that's my stop too. My house is a 3 minute walk from there. If you come with me, I can return your umbrella," she replied, excited at the possibility.
You weren't sure if you wanted to go. It was late in the evening and you didn't really want your umbrella back, it was an old one which you would have thrown away in a while anyway. You hesitate to reply.
"I'll even make you some coffee. Though I can't attest to how good it is. No one else has had my coffee," she continues, hoping to win you over with coffee.
The thought of being the first other person to have Winter's coffee was enough to convince you. You continue talking with her till the stop comes. She yaps a lot. You listen. She likes that. She talks about how she’s been so desperate for a job, until she finally found one at the interview after your chance meeting. She had just graduated college and was more or less alone in the city, which made you a bit sad, but also made you feel she was in a way, like you.
She's clumsy, but endearing. Her hair was tied up today. The hoodie covering up most of her dress. You wonder how she'd look in just her pink dress and her hair flowing free again. She would look like spring flowers, you thought. Winter.... an ironic name for her. You step off the station with her, and start walking with her. She begins blowing into her hands as the chill gets a bit more intense, late in the night.
"You alright?" you ask, a bit concerned. She was clearly not a very forward thinking girl.
"Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my gloves as well," she replies meekly.
"You can have mine if you want. I'm not very cold."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah your hands seem to be freezing."
"Alright.. maybe you deserve a bit more than just coffee," she said with a smirk.
You weren't sure what that meant, but you removed your gloves, tapped it off a couple of times to get rid of any dirt and offered it to her. She put it on and smiled. It felt intimate. It was your gloves around her hands and not your hands. But it felt just as intimate as holding her hands. The look in her eyes said she felt the same.
Her apartment was more than a few blocks away, more than the 3 minute walk she promised. But it felt nice to be walking in this weather with her. It’s been a while since you’ve walked alone with a girl like this, even though the cold made her less talkative. Soon, the two of you reach her building. The apartment building wasn't anything to speak of, and her house less so. Things were a mess, even the living room.
"You live alone?"
"Yeah, it's a 1 bedroom, recently moved here for the job. Sorry for the mess... I just forget things." That much was clear to you already. She continued sheepishly, "You see, I wasn't expecting visitors."
"Yeah? Bet it would have been spic and span if you did," you reply, mocking her.
She stares at you, pretending to be offended, and hits your shoulder. "Meanie. Now wait here as I go make your coffee," she says, shoving some clothes off a seat in the couch to create space for you. You sit there awkwardly and look around the rest of the room.
There’s a table and few chairs, but not where they’re supposed to be. Table in one corner, and chairs in the opposite corner, also filled with clothes. The table has a strewn collection of random items, among them a picture of what looks like a younger Winter with her parents. She’s posing cutely for the camera near a Mickey Mouse cutout, with her parents standing behind the cutout.
“Do I look cute in that pic?” Her voice calls out, catching you surprised.
“What- I mean yeah, yeah, baby you is a cutie. These are your parents?”
“Yeah.. they passed away in an accident last year. I’ve had this photo on my table ever since,” she replies in a silent tone.
“Oh I’m so sorry Winter...” you reply.
It made you wonder how she really was doing, she mentioned she didn’t really have any friends in the city, and with her parents not being here either.... must have been rough. She really didn’t show it if she did, always having a cheerful and playful tone, except for this one instance. You wondered how well you were hiding yours.
“Enough being sad, you came here for coffee so let’s have it.” She breaks the silence, and presents two cups with generous amounts of coffee. Actually, you came here for your umbrella, but you decide not to remind her of that fact and just accept her coffee. “So moment of truth, let’s find out if my coffee is actually good or I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the past 2 years.” Both of you take a sip of her coffee.
“Well... it’s certainly coffee,” you reply, then immediately wondering if you should have just lied.
“Huh? I didn’t expect that,” she says, a bit dejected, but continues, “Well, you’re gonna have to make do with it.” The two of you finish drinking down the rest of your cups.
“Let me remove my hoodie, it’s already hot enough in here,” she says and takes off her hoodie in front of you, and frees up her hair, now in just her pink dress and flowing hair like you were imagining earlier. She looks more angelic than you were expecting somehow, even with minimal makeup after what seemed like a long day at her work. You couldn’t help but stare a bit too long.
“What are you looking at? Want me to get you one of these dresses? I think you would look good in this too.” She teases you, as you break away from staring and reply to her. “Why not just give me this one? I gave you my gloves and umbrella after all.” She moves closer to you. “How about I give you something else in return?” she says, in a low whispering, almost erotic tone.
“Hmm, like what?”
She leans in even closer, and her lips catch yours in an expected kiss. You are taken aback, as she pulls away. “Wait... was it not okay? I’m so sorry...” she stumbles, before you reply to her by kissing her back, erasing all suspicions from her mind. The kiss is innocent initially, but quickly turns lewder. Your tongue entering her mouth as her lips part, your tongue playing with hers in a lewd dance, as you taste all of her.
She tastes like sweet honey, and makes you let out a soft moan as you throw an arm around her neck and pull her in even closer to you. Her hand begins at your chin, and travels down your chest, slowly caressing you, before finally resting on your bulge, which was quickly growing harder and harder for her. Your other arm travels down her back, then catching her cute ass, which you squeeze softly, making her moan.
Pulling away from the kiss, you ask her, “You like that baby?”
“Yes I do," she replies in a very soft, submissive tone, which turns you on even more.
“If you’re gonna give me the dress, we’re gonna have to take you out of it."
“That seems logical,” she replies and begins to fidget with her zipper, before you help her and get it all off her and throw it on the chair, adding to the already big pile of clothes. She’s in a soft pink bra, matching her dress, and black panties. You bring one hand down to her panties, and can see that it’s already dripping in her wetness.
With your other hand you tease her boobs over her bra, before unhooking her bra and throwing it off into the unknown. You circle your fingers around her nipple, and then bring your mouth near it. You start softly sucking on her nipples, as the slightest touch seems to stimulate her a lot, making her moan loudly and suppress various curses.
“Let’s head for your bedroom~ Look like we’ll defenitely be needing one tonight, and not just for sleeping.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs your hand and pulls you towards her bedroom. Entering, you lock the door, and the room is somehow even more of a mess than her living room.
You just push away the clothes, then softly push her on the bed. She tugs at your shirt, indicating she wants you out of clothes too. With her help, soon you’re out of your shirt and pants, with your cock almost wanting to burst out of your boxers already with how hard it is. She rubs her hand over your boxers, teasing your cock.
“My my~ You’re so hard already.”
“All because of you, baby.”
“Yeah baby? Why don’t you show me exactly how turned on I’ve gotten you.” Even the way she said baby in a sing-song voice made you feel like it was laced with honey, or maybe it was poison, but it seemed to make you addicted to it either way.
She continued rubbing your cock over your boxers, almost wishing it would come out like magic if she did. You fulfill her wishes and pull down your boxers swiftly, as your cock pops for her.
“It looks very pretty,” she says.
“Since when do cocks look pretty?” You laugh.
“Since today,” she says and wraps her fingers around your cock slenderly, and begins softly stroking you up and down. It was clear she didn’t have much experience with this, as she seemed to be doubting herself while doing so. “You’re doing well baby, you can hold it tighter if you want~” You encourage her. That instantly makes her more confident and her face brightens up.
She responds so cutely to praise, you think. She starts stroking faster and holding you tighter. She spits on her hands, and gently rubs it all over your cock, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her hands just glide over your cock now, making you feel even better as you begin moaning for her softly.
She brings her mouth closer to your cock and starts licking you with her tongue, going up all the way from your balls to your tip, spreading her saliva all over your cock. You place a hand on her head, caressing her hair, which makes her release another cute moan, and she places her lips around your cock. Firstly sucking on your tip, before taking the entirety of your length inside her mouth.
It hits the back of her throat, making her gag a little, although she quickly recovers. She bobs her head up and down on your cock, her tongue swirling around it as you moan louder and louder. Every moan you release and every time you caress your head it makes her more confident, as she sucks on you faster and faster.
After sucking for a while, she releases her mouth from your cock and stops for a pause, catching her breath. “You’re tired already baby? The night is just starting.” You tease her.
“Not a chance,” she replies before taking your cock back in her mouth, for another round of sucking.
Her spit now drips out from her mouth, dripping down to her chest, making a mess. Her face and your crotch are both wet with the same thing now. She takes a break for the second time, more out of breath now as she takes heavy breaths with saliva still stretching out from your cock to her mouth.
“That’s enough babe~ Let me return the favour now,” you say and push her down with her head on the pillow. Your fingers reach her panties, and now they have no semblance of ever being anything but a wet dripping mess of her juices. You slide those panties down, exposing her pussy which looks just as cute as her, glistening with wetness.
You slide one finger in, as her juices coat your fingers. You shove the finger in your mouth and taste her juices. “It tastes like sweet nectar,” you tell her.
“Don’t you want more of that where that came from, baby” She teases you.
You do, so your mouth goes down to her panties, and you spread your tongue across her pussy. Licking all across, getting a taste of her juices directly, as it makes her moan. “Fuck.” You slide a finger in her pussy at the same time, and start fingering her pussy, your fingers slick with her juices.
You reach her clit with your tongue, and every lick on it stimulates her to the point that she’s screaming. “Fuck! You’re doing so good! Don’t stop... Please don’t stop...” You can feel the neediness in her voice. Her neediness to cum for your mouth. You insert one more finger, and you’re alternating between sucking and licking on her clit, with two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.
You could tell she was getting close with how she was twitching and basically grinding her pussy on your tongue faster than you could lick her. You don’t stop, listening to her desperate moans begging you to keep going.
You insert a third finger when you sense she’s about to cum. She begins squirting as she finishes, her liquids bursting out from her pussy and making a mess on your face, and wetting the sheets of her bed and the clothes around with her liquids. She holds on to your hair indicating you to keep going, and you do it till she’s made the entire bed wet with her juices.
“Fuck... you are so good at that...” she remarks, breathless. “Seems like you wanted to make an even bigger mess on my face than my cock did on yours.” You tease her. She just giggles before replying. “I hope we’re not done yet though.... I still need to feel your cock somewhere else.”
“Yeah? Where do you need to feel it?”
“You know where.. dont act silly” she says, blushing and looking down.
“Winter miss I think you’re well beyond the point of acting shy. Say it or you’re not getting it.”
“I need it in my pussy. I need it deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every inch of your cock in me.”
Hearing her say the thing you wanted to do most to her made you gather all your energy for perhaps the last round of the night. You get on top of her again. Lining up your cock with the pussy you just made squirt all over. She looks in your eye with lustful desire. Her eyes conveying all her deepest wants with nothing hiding it. Yet she somehow managed to look like the cutest girl in the universe. You weren’t sure how. You move your hips forward. She was so wet that your cock slipped right in.
Her pussy was tight, and she wraps her legs around you, not willing to let you go till you give her what she needs so badly. You comply, beginning to move your hips with a rhythm. She places one hand on your chest and pulls your body closer to her. She wants your body close to her. She wants your body on her.
You catch her lips with yours as you continue thrusting. By this time both your faces and mouths are messes, but neither of you could care less, and the kiss is more intense than last time as you continue fucking her pussy.
She moans through the kiss, her moans escaping into your mouth and she gets loud for your cock in her. As you pull away from the kiss you can hear just how much moans she’s been suppressing. The sounds of your thighs clapping against hers was loud, but her moans easily blow over all of them.
“Fuck baby, your cock feels so fucking good.” All the honey in her baby is now gone. This one is driven by pure unadulterated lust.
You could listen to her moans for years. But you couldn’t keep going for years. All good things come to an end, and you could feel you were close to cumming. “I’m close Winter.” You let her know.
“I want it IN ME. Please. Please.” She begs and wraps her legs tighter around you. Not willing to let go either way. You wanted to cum in her anyway.
She intertwines her fingers with yours and holds on to your palm tightly. “Cum in me baby. I want you.” She clenches her pussy around your cock tightly, which makes you release. Your load flows into her pussy filling her up, cumming more than you thought you could cum. As you move your hips back you can watch how much you came in her, with it now dripping out of her.
The two of you try to clean up (as much as you could after that tiring session) and cuddle into each other’s arms trying to fall asleep. You remember what she told you at the end of your first meeting. “I hope you get all the good things in life.” You think you already did.
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Saw you asking for requests^^ been thinking about spencer and his fear of dogs, what about reader who had a dog before they met and the dog like, saved her from some sort of assault so shes obviously very attached. The dog is really well trained and stuff, but hes still a bit afraid of it?
Idk i just see cat dad spence all the time and i love dogs sooo



tags: fluff, established relationship, bau!reader, I totally pictured this as early season spencer, mentions of death related to dog attacks
w/c: 1k
a/n: I'm so so so insanely sorry for having taken so long to do this req and also for not having posted much recently, school's been killing me and I'm just not doing too well, but whatever I'm sorry. also I don't know if this is exactly what you meant sorry if it's not. ALSO I've never had a dog before, so I'm sorry if this is out of... character... for the... dog..?
“why have i never been to your apartment?” your boyfriend asks as you walk out the bullpen, having just made plans to drive you both to his, “you're over at my place all the time, but you've never let me come over. why is that?”
“i have a dog, spence.” you answer, wrapping a hand around his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder as soon as the elevator doors close in front of you.
“i've seen the fur all over your sweaters, i know you do. why would that be a problem?”
“she's a hundred pound rottweiler and you were scared of petting a baby golden retriever a while ago.”
“i wasn't scared. i was just… careful. do you know how many accidents happen each year because of poorly trained large dogs?”
“that poor puppy clearly wouldn't have been able to hurt you if he tried his very best. you were scared.”
“people really shouldn't trust puppies as much as they do. they're rarely ever as well trained as adult dogs can be, and their size doesn't–”
“that's why i didn't think you should meet cupcake, honey.” you cut him off gently with a small chuckle.
“she's named cupcake?”
“yeah, like, formally. but we just call her baby or something, no one does the full name.”
“you do realize that dog is able to kill you at any given point, right? rottweilers are one of the most dangerous dog breeds in the world. she's almost your size, and her name is cupcake?”
you look at him with a smile as you start walking towards the parking lot, “i could also kill you at any given point. doesn't mean i can't be cute like that.”
“you couldn't kill me with your teeth like a dog could.”
“don't be silly, sweetheart. she's the biggest sweet little baby in the world. she'd never kill me or anyone i don't seem to not trust.”
“oh, so you do think it's okay for me to meet her?”
“well, no, i didn't say that. she wouldn't attack you, i just think you'd be scared for your life.”
“i wouldn't. i'm not scared, i won't be. please, i want to meet her.”
before you can deny again, he looks at you with those big, brown, pleading eyes, and a pout to which you can't say no, that face that scares you if you think about what it could get you to do.
with a roll to your eyes as you get into the car, you start telling him the directions to your apartment—he already knew and remembered them from when he'd pick you up or drop you off and you'd never let him in, but he wouldn't point that out when you'd cut off what you were talking about to say oh, take the left right here.
even though you want to not like this, to not want him to be in a situation you know he's fearful of, you can't help but find it heartwarming. spencer reid, your favorite man, meeting your favorite girl, in your apartment, your favorite place, for the very first time.
it's exciting, and it only got more so when you start telling him about how and when and where and why you got cupcake, and all the funny or sweet things she does.
“how do you even sleep with a dog that big?” he asks with a chuckle after you tell him about how cuddly she is.
“uncomfortably so.”
────୨ৎ────
turning your key on the lock, cupcake's excitement is audible from outside, her long nails hitting the floor as she walks around in front of the door and pants loudly, waiting for you to come in.
as soon as you're inside, the poor dog is running up to you, trying to lick kiss all over your face when you kneel down in front of her to pet her. meanwhile, spencer stands in the hallway, awkwardly clutching his bag strap as he watches you and the dog in visible fear.
“come in, sweetheart.” you say to him while you laugh, not looking back at him, but knowing he's afraid of walking in, “she won't even mind you, i swear.”
almost falling back as you get attacked by her kisses before you stand up and turn to look at him, she sits at your feet while you pat her head and give him a smile.
despite you pretending not to be bothered by it, some part of you is, too, now actually scared of your dog lashing out and attacking him like he said she would. she's always been so sweet to your friends when you have girl nights, but just like her mother (you), she doesn't trust men.
spencer takes a careful step toward the door, and when she notices his presence, cupcake stares at him for a moment during which you're foolishly convinced she's about to jump at him.
however, when you look down at her with a smile and take his hand as he walks in, she immediately relaxes and it's clear that whatever threat she saw coming from him isn't there anymore. within a second, she's at his legs, panting again as she begs for his own attention.
almost stumbling over her, he walks into the apartment completely so that you can close the door, and he chuckles as she follows him to the couch, “i'm suprised she hasn't started barking yet.”
you go to sit down next to him after locking the door, but cupcake takes your spot at his left before you can even try it. instead, you sit at his other side with a scoff after he mumbles, “dogs never like me like this.”
he awkwardly gives her the pats she's so desperately begging for, petting her head in the same way a kid sits at the oven and tries to cook something while mom watches so no one gets burnt, “well, she's never really liked any man before, so i'm surprised, too.”
“i've never had any sort of animal be so eager about me before.” he mutters as you lie your head on his shoulder.
you let out a small hum in response, giving one side of her face gentle scratches as he does the same to the other side.
“she trusts you because she knows i do, i guess.” you say after a beat, looking at the two of them with a small smile, “loves you almost as much as her mommy does.”
he glances back at you with a flustered chuckle, shaking his head before looking back at the dog who's just laid her own head on his lap.
“and she seems to see you as her daddy, now, so...” you add softly with another quiet giggle, “i'm afraid you'll have to become a pet dad, as well.”
“mm, not complaining”
after that day, it was only a matter of time before he moved in with you two, and from then on, you weren't the only one cursed with the fur-filled sweaters, and he became a bit less afraid of all the other large animals he was previously terrified of.
#fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds#fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#fluff#love u#my stuff
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hii could you write castlevania nocturne alucard x fem!reader💗maybe the reader is a vampire or speaker/witch
enchant me, lover. ♡


featuring: adrian fahrenheit ţepeş / alucard x f! vampire, speaker & witch! reader.
summary: you're stargazing with your husband, and he doesn't get the chance to wish on a shooting star. you know just what will cheer him up.
warnings: minors and ageless blog dni regardless of content. i made the line dividers, so please don't use them. | support divider: @cafekitsune | wc: 2.3k | ao3
tags: fluff | hurt/comfort | domestic fluff | one-shot | stargazing | established marriage
a/n: i'll do you one better, friend, and combine ALL OF THEM!! >:D i'm trying to make my way through my requests, so there will be lots of castlevania stuff for awhile! this is set a couple of years before adrian left to track sekhmet. i hope that i did you justice, anon, and please enjoy, dear friends!!
date started: 7:08PM, february 16th, 2025. date finished: 8:45PM, february 25th, 2025.

The moon cloaks itself amidst the twilight to leave room for the stars to illuminate the sky. Thousands gather closely together to observe the night's events, and whisper gossip that the breeze tells them. A castle, tall enough to hold the heavens and older than most museums, resides within the forest. Its worn stone enjoys the scenery's tranquility, and the surrounding wildlife serves as a reminder of its reason for standing.
There are two occupants in this castle; The legendary Alucard, A.K.A Adrian Țepeș, and you, his lovely wife. You have been married for almost two-hundred years, and there is nothing that you would change about the life that you have built together. You both enjoy travel, so the adventures that you go on together are eternally endless. Adrian has solidified himself into your soul, and he is part of you that you never wish to do without. In moments where you felt like you couldn't go on, his face came to mind and you remembered just how strong you are.
Adrian knows that the connection that you share will last far beyond the relevance of your immortal lives. Not even at the chance of death will your love's resilience waver, for it is a force stronger than any enemy that you have vanquished together. If you were not in his life, then he would not laugh, smile, ponder or explore as much as he has in your company. Adrian Țepeș is not a man who fears much, but the idea that plagues his mind into restlessness is how much darker his world would be without you in it. Imagining a reality where he lives without your rants about all of the things that he wouldn't think twice about, paired with its angelic echo chanting off of the walls of your home would send him into madness, if not for the comfort of your body lying asleep by his side in your shared bed.
Every day that you spend together is a day that you both cherish, and today has felt particularly special. From dawn 'til dusk, you walked through the forest and discovered things that you hadn't noticed before; The different flowers blooming within the grass or unfamiliar streams, for instance. You have lived in this area for some time now, yet when journeying with Adrian, all sorts of new encounters appeared. It was very fulfilling to wander out with him to see what awaited you.
Now, your exciting day has come to a close, and both of you agreed that the best way to wind down before bed was to stargaze together. You stand on one of many bridges of the palace, your hands resting on the cold stone railing while your eyes sparkle just as brightly as the stars you stare at. Adrian stands not far behind you, a smile gracing his pale lips as he admires the great darkness above. Every once in awhile, he will look back at you and treasure the warmth that pools within his chest. Your joy while looking up at the stars is more beautiful than any twinkling light in the sky, and if he spent his night watching you like this instead, then he would be just as content.
Occasionally, you'll point out an exceptionally bright star, or a constellation, and Adrian's eyes will follow where you lead them. You'll tell about the story behind how the constellation was named, and anything else that comes to mind in relation. Being born into a group of Speakers has left a lot of room for you to acquire all sorts of knowledge about a variety of different subjects, and at one point in your life, you found yourself very fascinated with everything related to space. As a result, you did a lot of research on the subject so that you could share it with your family, and anyone crossing your path willing to listen.
Both of Adrian's parents were people of science, so he gathered quite the bounty of information himself, but he would always make an effort to listen to you. No matter how many times you repeat the same tales and facts, he will nod along and asks questions as if it's the first time, just to prompt your endless, passionate rambles. Gaining the opportunity to share your wisdom grants you an ethereal, excitable glow that he will gladly blind himself with, if it means that the last thing he ever sees is your smiling face.
A comforting quiet lingers in the air while you both gaze up at the stars, cherishing the night's delightful weather that provides you the freedom to enjoy this moment together. Sky's stillness suddenly dispels when a star swiftly descends from the shadows, and immediately, it catches Adrian's attention. A blissful, child-like smile graces his lips as he takes a step forward, then points above while announcing, "Look, a shooting star!"
Instantly, your head whips into the direction where Adrian's finger follows, and you see it. Fortunately, before it leaves your view, you are able to make a wish. Many would see it as silly for an over three-hundred year-old vampire to believe in wishing on stars, for you have lived long enough to know that not all myths are true. Regardless, you like the hopefulness that the idea brings; That someone, somewhere is listening, with the goal of helping you achieve your dreams.
Wherever this comet is going, it's in a hurry, for it's leaving as quickly as it came. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath, thinking about what you want most in the world. When you open them, you release the wind trapped inside your throat at the realization that the shooting star has disappeared over the horizon. Disappointment dwells in your heart and on your shoulders briefly before you spin around to look at your husband, whose arm has lowered. His face illuminates with a gentle joy as he gazes into the distance, a display that lightens your disheartenment and replaces it with bliss.
Long ago, you swore that you would commit all of Adrian's smiles to memory, so you take this time to do just that. The radiant expression that he wears is one of wonder, faith and longing, as if he wishes to chase that star to the ends of the Earth. You think that he looks so adorable like this, and you would hate for him to stop, but you become curious as to if he made a wish too, so you ask him, "Did you make a wish, Adrian?"
Blinking out of his awestruck state, golden eyes meet yours. You are so glad that during all of this time, the color of Adrian's eyes never changed. You think that it gives him individuality, and they remind you that through every hardship, you will always have someone at your side to endure it with. Sunshine dims into a soft sadness, which rawly clenches at your heart. Adrian's eyes glance to the ground, a frown on his face while he admits, "Oh, no. I didn't get the chance to."
The vessel which keeps you standing feels like it is being brutally mauled through at this response. Now, Adrian gazes out into the sky with furrowed brows, and your own face falls as his does. While he is skeptical about the idea of wishing on stars, he does find it fun to do sometimes. It didn't even come to mind when he saw it passing by, and seeing just how disappointed he is hurts more than any wound you could ever receive.
You use your quick-thinking skills to come up with something to cheer the dhampir up, when it hits you. You have been studying human magics for one-hundred years, and while you are quite skilled, you do not practice enough to fully achieve your true potential. Typically, you only use your magic on occasion when you're bored to make fun shapes, or when you're in combat with no other choice, but this is just as vital- no, even more-so. This is more dire than any foe that you have vanquished, more monstrous than any beast you have slain; Your sweet husband is sad, and as his wife, you want to make him feel better!
So, you cup your palms together and hold them out in front of you. Adrian notices the shift of your body, and turns to watch as you close your eyes. You focus on your desire, and think about the way that a star feels. You feel a tickling sensation spring its way up your back, as if stardust brushes your skin. Slipping into a deep state of concentration, you reflect on your early studies of magic when a yellow spark erupts into your hands. Adrian watches with fascination while the spark begins to brighten; It begins to take shape, until a thin, golden diamond glows in your grasp.
Adrian is completely blown away by your demonstration, his mouth hung open and eyes gawking widely at what you've just created. You open your eyes and smile at the dumbfounded look on your husband's face, giggling. "Make a wish, Adrian."
Realistically, you both know that this isn't what a star looks like, but that doesn't matter to your man. What matters to him is that it's yours, and it's perfect. For a moment, Adrian is silent, too bewildered by your manifestation to summon his voice. He knows that you are a very talented magician, and he has seen your capabilities at their finest. The fact that you have forged something so precious just to make him happy deeply touches Adrian. A smile adorns the man's face once more, eyes holding a love that is reserved only for you. He reaches a hand over to the side of your face to allow gloved fingers to graze your skin while he leans forward, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
You watch as he melts before you, your smile growing wider when seeing that he's happy again. Unexpectedly, he gives you a kiss, and this makes you feel even better. Adrian's lips have a very dastardly power to make you weak; One brush of them, and you feel like you could faint on the spot. His lips are soft, and he tastes of the most captivating spell. You would have dropped the illusion and wrapped your arms around him to properly relay your passion, if you didn't know how meaningful this was to him. Heat crawls its way into your cheeks, and your shoulders have hiked up from surprise, but they slowly lower themselves as you allow your body to relax. You return his kiss and tilt your head slightly to enhance the experience for both of you, and you stand like this for a moment to cherish how perfectly your lips mold together.
Albeit regrettably, Adrian is the one to back away. The sun of his eyes shines brightly with admiration, and the smile on his lips is tender. "I don't need to," He murmurs sweetly.
Seeing this look on the dhampir's face is everything that you could want out of tonight. You have shared a wonderful day together, but this has been the best part of it by far. A crooked grin curls its way your lips, and you give him a knowing look when you decide to tease him, "If you say it's because you have everything you could wish for right here, I'm going to hit you."
Adrian's posture straightens as he throws his head back to laugh. Light blooms within your chest at the sound, one that you would listen to every hour for all of your days if given the chance. Tilting his head upright, he meets your eyes and responds, "Alright, I hear you." Then, he leans over to examine the star in your hands more closely, asking, "Could we save it?" Your husband aligns himself upright again, reuniting your gaze to his while adding, "For my next wish."
You smile at the man, head slightly tilted while fondly gazing at him. Any request of his is one you will gladly satisfy, so you tell him, "I think I can do that."
The look on your face causes Adrian to soften, his shoulders noticeably relaxing a bit more at the sight. "Good." He then turns so that his side faces you, and offers an arm for you to take. "Shall we head to bed now?"
You squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips together harshly, charging all of your energy into the little splendor in your hands before hopping up. With your little bounce, the star shoots up into the sky, stardust hot on its trail, before it lowers down to settle itself floating slightly above you and Adrian. The dhampir turns around to recognize what you've done, that same stupefied expression on his face. You see it and laugh, an arm coming over your stomach as you take a step back and point at him. You gather yourself shortly after, and brush away any lingering dust on your clothes before you turn to face where Adrian is to take his arm. "Let's go."
It's only when you make contact with him that your husband comes out of his shock, his face relaxing when seeing yours and a smile decorating his lips. "As you wish."
With that, you head into the castle to begin your nightly routine. The star you created twirls around you both the entire way, and you laugh at mystical friend's enthusiasm. Love has brought you two a long way, and you guarantee that it will take you even farther. In every life, you know that Adrian would do anything to make you happy, and he knows that you would do the same.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3

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