#and it's also less weird and also fun if he calls you the name of his adopted brother mid coitus

[kiseiakhun]

You literally already know who I'm gonna ask: GARTH

I have already answered this but I will answer again. I would smash Garth. I would ride his fish dick. I would put on a strap and fuck his fussy (fish pussy). I would fertilize his eggs after he lays them in the communal titans pool. I would take his side in every argument with Arthur, which I would do even if I didn't want to fuck him because Arthur is usually wrong. All it takes is one look from his magical anime eyes and my legs will open by themselves. You KNOW Garth would treat you right.

[lamentfulwarbler]

Was meant to be writing and ended up doing a sketch thing for my au,,

For those who can’t read the text, it reads ‘Canonverse Chuuya’, and ‘Backstory Swap au Dazai’

Edit: attempted to space them out better bc tumblr killed the quality 💀

[alastor-simp]

Alastor X Reader - Dressing Up As Him

"Hum hum hum~♫" Alastor was walking around the hotel lobby, humming a tune to himself as his eyes scanned all of the inhabitants at the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie were putting up more banners and decor in the lobby, Nifty was sweeping, and Husk and Angel Dust were at the bar. Alastor kept looking around to spot you, but he had no luck. Heading over to the bar, he leaned over the counter, smiling his signature grin. "Ah, Husker my good friend! Having a good day?" Alastor said, as he gazed at the grumpy cat, wiping a glass with a towel. "F*** off." said Husk, as he glared at Alastor, not wanting to deal with him. "Hey smiles~ Looking sexy as always." said Angel Dust, as he leaned back slightly on the bar stool, winking at Alastor. "Please refrain from flirting with me Angel.” Alastor said, extending his mic towards Angel, trying to move him away. "Ah your no fun." said Angel as he pushed Alastor's mic away from, and crossed his arms, placing them on the bar stand. "Anywho! Have any of you seen y/n? I didn't happen to see them in the lobby." Husk just shrugged his shoulders, as he didn't really know where you were, but he also answered quickly as he just wanted Alastor to leave. Angel dust was nice enough to answer as he told Alastor that he had heard you, rummaging around your room along with music playing in the background. He was gonna bother you, wondering what was happening, but he decided not to, and left you alone. "Thank you Angel! I will go find them now!” said Alastor as he walked away from the bar, missing the wave from Angel and the middle-finger from Husk.

Heading towards your room, Alastor was hoping that you were alright. Before, Alastor didn't really care much about you when he first met you as he though of you as another simpleton staying at the hotel, but after talking and hanging out with you a few times, he slowly started to care about you as he found you to be a rather sweet soul that wasn't common to see in Hell, with the exception of Charlie. Of course, he would hide that from the others as he had a reputation to uphold as being "the radio demon", so the less the people knew he had a kind heart, the better. Arriving at your door, Alastor knocked a significant beat, calling out your name, hoping for an answer. He could hear what sounded like electric swing playing in your room, but no response from you. He wanted to barge in, but he thought that would be rude so he continued to knock until you answered.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were eyeing yourself to make sure everything was set in place, and your outfit was fitted perfectly to yourself. You were wearing a striped red coat on top of a red dress shirt with a black bow tie that matched with the dress pants and black shoes, along with the outfit, you had on a red wig with a deer ear headband on top of it. Yes, you were wearing Alastors exact outfit. You really loved Alastors look, and you actually wanted to cosplay as him, but you would never tell Alastor that, as you didn't want to weird him out if he had caught you wearing his outfit, thinking you were some type of creep. You did remember that Alastor was very close to the overlord, Rosie, who owned the big emporium, so you had confided with her if she could help with your cosplay idea. Rosie was very surprised, but found your efforts cute and she actually was able to connect you with the tailor that designed a lot of Alastors clothing. It took a while, but you were able to get the whole outfit from the tailor, and you couldn't be more excited and happy to try it out. You had everything fitted to a T, but the only thing missing was the microphone, but you could think of an idea for that later. Staring at your reflection, you stretched your mouth into a wide smile, trying to match Alastor. The smile looked great, but holding that smile all day was going to be very difficult as your cheeks started to ache. Sighing, you turned away from the mirror and headed towards the radio to turn the music down. As the music died down, the thumping beat from the door, alerted your prescence: "Yes, who is it?", you called out. "Hello, Its me, darling. Are you well? I noticed you were not with the others in the lobby, so I decided to pay you a visit!” Oh No! Alastor was here, in front of your room. You couldn't bear for him to see you, wearing his outfit. "Um, I'm okay. Just tiding a bit, don't worry." You lied, as you were hoping Al would head back to the lobby. "Ah, I see! Well you wouldn't mind if I come inside, do you? I would very much like to have a nice chat.", Alastor said, as he continued to stand at the door on the other side. Oh Satan, he was not planning on leaving. Panicking, you run towards the door, unlocking it, to signify to Al it was open, before running towards your bathroom, closing the door.

Entering inside Y/N room, Al looked around your room, but didn't spot you anywhere. "Darling? Where are you?," Alastor called out, as he made his way further into your room, standing with his hands behind his back. "I'm in the bathroom, Al. Just washing up a bit. You can sit on the bed and we can chat from here." He had heard you call out. Arching his eyebrow, Alastor found it a bit strange, but he didn't question anything further, and made his way over to the bed, and sat down. As he gazed around the room, Alastor happened to spot something on the floor. As he gazed closer, he recognized it was a bow tie that was similar to his. Reaching out and picking it up, he eyed it and questioned to himself why this was in your room. "Darling?" "Yes, Al?," you said behind the door. "I found a bow tie that is similar to mine in your room. Do you know why this is here?"

Panicking, you looked down and saw that the bow tie was no longer on your shirt. "Sh**!", you whispered to yourself, as you tried to come up with another lie to tell Alastor. "M-maybe you left it here by accident." you said, mad at yourself that you stuttered. "I would happen to remember losing something like this the last time I visited you." Alastor said, as he kept eyeing the bow tie, turning it around to eye it. You stood on the other side of the door, realizing that he didn't buy it. "T-hen umm-", you froze, stuck on what to say next. Alastor noticed your change in tone, getting up from the couch and making his way towards the bathroom door. "Darling~, is there something you are not telling me perhaps?", Alastor said, smirking to himself, as he stood in front of the bathroom door. "N-no.", you said, as you heard voice more clearly now. "Then why do I sense such nervousness in your voice?", he said, as he continued to stand in front of the door, inching closer to hear you. "I-I." Stuttering, you couldn't think of another thing to say as Alastor figured out you were acting odd. "Darling~, What are you hiding? Come on out.," Al sang behind the door, as his smile got wider, enjoying the situation you were in. "OKAY! ok. I'll come out, but could you back away from the door a bit and also close your eyes please?", you said, letting Al know you were ready to come out. Al raised an eyebrow that you wanted him to close his eyes, but he said nothing, as he walk backwards, and shut his eyes.

Opening the door, you saw Alastor standing in the middle of your room, hands folded behind his back, eyes shut, and his signature grin on his face. Standing a few feet from him, you told him to open his eyes, while you cast your eyes down to the ground. Alastor opened his eyes, and he was put back for a second as he saw you dressed to the nines in what look to be his clothes. Everything you were wearing was matching him, and the only thing that was missing was his mic staff and the bow tie, that he was holding in his hand. Looking up, you noticed Al's face was stunned, but he was still smiling. "Before you say anything, just know that I'm wearing this for cosplay reasons. I'm not a freak and these were custom-made for me, they are not from your room, I swear." you blabbed all of this out, twiddling with your fingers, and looking back down towards the floor. Silence filled the room, after you were done talking. You were afraid to look back at Al, as you were expecting to see radio dials in his eyes.

"HAHAHAHAHA! My my, how dapper you look, darling!” Alastor laughed out, along with his mic that started playing a laugh track. Looking back at him, you weren't expecting a reaction like this from him. "Y-your not upset?" you questioned Al, as you continued to twiddle your fingers. "Upset? Why no, darling! Is that why you were hiding from me? Cause you figured I would be upset?" said Alastor, as he tilted his head at you. "Well, I didn't want to disturb you if you saw me wearing your outfit." "Well, I must admit I was surprised, but I am not upset. But I do have to ask, why are you dressed up like me?", he said, as he approached you, red glowing eyes staring at you, and his award winning smile on his face. Sighing, you explained to Alastor that you really enjoyed his look and outfit, so you wanted to cosplay as him. Alastor smiled softly at you, and hooked his finger under your chin, raising your head to look at him. "You are quite adorable aren't you, my dear." he said, as he then let your chin go, and began tying the bow tie back onto you, finishing it quickly and taking a step back. "There we go, dear! All set! Now we just need a smile! Come on dear, smile!" Alastor said, as he leaned closer towards your face, smiling wide. Blushing, you looked away for a second before giving Al a smile as big as his. "Perfect! I must say you make a good me!” Alastor said, as he placed his hand on your head, giving it a rub. "Thanks Al." you said, as you blushed and looked down again. "Now, since you want to be like me, we could engage in some carnage in the city! Imagine, the radio demon and his doppelgänger causing mayhem to the denizens of the Pride ring! Quite a premise!" said Alastor, extending his hand out like he was giving a performance in a play. "Um, sorry, but no thanks. I know we are in hell and all, but I'm still not use to all the violence and carnage yet." You said, as you looked at Alastor shyly. "Aw, don't be such a wet blanket , my dear." Alastor said, as he looked at you again, still smiling, but his ears were dropped down, signifying that he was a little sad. "Sorry , Alastor. Maybe we could do something else instead, like head to a cafe or go to one of Mimzy's shows?", you said. "Hmmm. Fair enough." Alastor said, as his ears perked up after he heard you say that. Hooking your arm in his, he pulled you next to him, as he raised his fingers up, ready to use his powers to teleport: "Lets go, my dear! I feel like this is going to be very entertaining!”

[afterglowsainz]

fresh out the slammer | max verstappen

summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max

warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max

the tortured athletes department series

it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.

on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.

“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 

during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.

once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.

“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.

“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.

“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.

“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.

“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.

“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”

you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.

“hello.” he answers.

“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.

“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”

“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”

“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”

“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”

you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.

“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”

you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.

“okay.” you answered and finished the call.

when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.

“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.

“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.

“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.

“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 

“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.

“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.

you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.

“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.

he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.

“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.

“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.

“we broke up.” you answer dryly.

“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.

“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.

it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.

“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”

“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.

“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”

“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.

“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.

“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”

“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”

he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.

“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.

“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”

“why do you think, y/n?”

he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.

before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?

“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.

you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.

“you could stay.” you whisper.

max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.

“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.

“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.

“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.

“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”

his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.

“come inside.” you ask.

he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.

[toxicanonymity]

Best friends dad Joel x innocent reader

Reader is sleeping over at her best friends house. Best friend ditches her for a party/bf which leaves her alone with Joel. Joel makes fun of her innocence and pressures her into drinking/having sex with him

Night Talks

2.8k words / best friend's dad!Joel x innocent!f!reader

NSFW 18+ / joel master list

gif from @serenaxpedroo , ask from @subby-bottom

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ big girthy legal age gap, it's 2008 so 41-19 lmao, first time marijuana use, light drinking, pressure, dubious consent, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, depraved praise. reader can sit in joel's lap. haphazard editing.

-

"I know your parents are strict as hell, but you’re an adult." 

You feel uncool enough without Mr. Miller acting like you're such a square.  He takes “Cool Dad”  to the extreme.  Yeah, you're an adult, but you don't really party and you didn't feel like going. Yeah, your parents are strict. That's why you regret going to a commuter college. It's also why you didn't go home when Sarah left.  You didn't realize her hot dad was awake when you came down in your skimpy pajamas to get a drink of water.  Now your eyes are drifting to his biceps as you have this weird talk in the kitchen. But if you're looking at his biceps, at least you're not looking at his PJ pants. 

You feel defensive even though everything he's saying is true.  "I just don't like to party," you say. "Plus, they smoke weed."

He squints at you judgmentally.  "So? . . . What, you’ve never tried it?" 

You're not sure how to respond to that.  Mr. Miller is older and hot.  His judgment carries a lot of weight because of it.  You've seen him after a construction job before, sweating, arms bulging.  

"Damn, you're brainwashed as hell. . . ." He looks like he feels sorry for you.  "C'mon, let's have a beer. I've at least seen you with one of those before." It's flattering that he would notice, even though you probably didn’t finish it.

"I should probably go home"

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head as though to say "really?” Then he gets two beers out of the fridge and starts to open them.  “Let’s skip to the part where you take a sip and relax."

"Mr. Mill-"

"Oh. . ." he waves his hand dismissively. "Mr. Miller sounds creepy.  You can just call me daddy."  Your heart jumps to your throat.  Mr. Miller is creepy. 

Then he laughs. "Damn, the look on your face.  Nah, call me Joel.  Look," he hands you a Coors Light.  “Practically water."

You accept the beer. He takes a sip of his IPA, then teases, "We can watch somethin’ pg-13 if ya want.”

-

You watch Saturday Night Fever on DVD.  You think it's just gonna be dancing, but it's far saucier. He glances at you, watching your reaction to the most intense scenes.  You're embarrassed but try to ignore him.  After Joel goes to get a second beer, you’re startled when he sits down next to you on the sofa instead of back in the recliner where he was.  Your skittishness must show.  

“Relax,” he says and squeezes your knee.  His demeanor has changed. He has a whole different voice.    “I don’t bite. . .‘less you’re into it.  Can’t imagine a good girl like you though . . . Fuckin’ Miss America over here.”

Your cheeks burn.  “I’m not that good,” you protest. You're not sure why. 

“Yeah? Prove it,” he says and begins lightly stroking circles around your knee.  The challenge quickens your heart rate and sends a rush of blood to your loins before he continues, “let’s get high.” 

You're unsure if you're relieved or disappointed that's what he meant.  You resist, but he offers, “you don’t even have to smoke it.”

“What, brownies?”

“No, baby.”  The pet name makes you tingle. He reaches into the end table drawer and retrieves a small glass pipe and a lighter.  

“C’mere, I'll show ya.”  His free hand grabs yours and he leads you to the tiny bathroom.  You can't help but notice the way his soft pants hug his ass.  

-

He shuts the door behind you, then closes the toilet lid and sits down while you awkwardly stand there with your arms crossed.  You lean against the 6” of available wall space.  It’s a very, very small bathroom.   

His biceps stretch his t-shirt as he holds the pipe to his mouth and flicks the lighter on.  He moves the lighter around the weed in small circles and the glow spreads as he sucks the air through the pipe.  He closes his eyes and a sensual expression loads on his face as he inhales.  It’s a face of pleasure. His brow furrows and his eyes open.  He slowly exhales, politely pouting and pointing his lips away from you, but keeping his eyes in your direction,  shamelessly scanning your body. 

As the stench of the weed creeps into your nostrils, you reflexively reach for the exhaust fan switch on the wall and he says, “Nope. Can’t hotbox with the fan on.  That’s the whole point."

-

When the second-hand smoke starts to hit you, you feel a little woozy.  Good, but woozy.  You start to sit on the counter and he stops you.  “Sink’s not braced yet.”  

He pats his lap.  There’s nowhere else to sit unless you leave the bathroom, and you don’t want to.  So you sit on Mr. Miller's lap.  His pants are soft and his legs are warm.  You’re hesitant to put all your weight on him until he says, “Relax, I can handle it,” and he does have meaty thighs.  He strokes your bare thigh, making you wet and self conscious that you hadn’t shaved in a week.  

He looks around at the smoke in the bathroom.  “How’s it feel?” 

“Um, good,” you say.  He looks back and forth between your eyes and smiles.  

"Good, good. . ." 

You look at each other for what feels like a few minutes, playing chicken about who will finally talk next.  Then he asks, "ready for the next step?”

“Nah. . . I don't wanna smoke.”

“Don’t have to.  Just breathe out when I squeeze once."  He squeezes your thigh once to demonstrate.  "And breathe in when I squeeze twice."  He demonstrates again.  "And keep your mouth open."

You don't say anything, trying to envision what he's going to do. 

"You’re gonna love it.”

“Okay,” you say.  Why not? You’re feeling pretty relaxed. 

“Gotta face me though,” he says.  He nudges you to stand up, then he urges you back into his lap, but straddling him.  

You hesitate and resist a little. 

“Only live once baby”

-

You go ahead and straddle him, but you're very aware of how short, loose, and flowy your shorts are. You can feel the air between your legs. He takes a deep, horny breath as you settle in and his eyes darken.  

"God, you're hot," he mutters.  That's the moment you're certain he wants to fuck you.  You shyly look down and away.  

"I'm serious," he says.  

Then he spares you the need to respond, leaning back to make room between you for his muscular arms before he brings the pipe to his mouth.  He sucks in and holds the air in his mouth then turns and puts the pipe on the back of the toilet behind him.  When he faces you again, his large hands slide up both your thighs.  His chest expands as he inhales the smoke in his mouth, then he holds it in and squeezes your thighs once.  

You breathe out. He leans in, cradles your head  with one hand and opens his mouth, not exhaling yet, smoke curling between his lips, then squeezes your thigh twice.  As you begin to inhale, he blows the smoke right into your mouth. And he keeps his face close to yours as he watches you turn your head and exhale. 

“Attagirl,” he says and your heart flutters. 

Every part of you wants to kiss him right now, and it looks like he wants that, too.  He leans in a little.  

But the smoke burns, and you turn your head and cough. Joel pats then rubs your back.  "Damn, I shoulda gone slower."   When you stop coughing, your watery eyes meet his, and he cracks a smirk.  You're super high and very wet. He looks entranced by you. 

"Guess you're right," he murmurs.

"Hmm?"

"You're not that good a girl. . ." You feel conflicted hearing these words, until his hands return to your legs and he says, "Only one thing I like more than a bad girl." His hands slide all the way up your thighs and his eyes follow his hand.   His thumb easily nudges its way inside the inseam of your shorts - it happens so fast - and before you know it he lightly strokes the apex of your folds.  Your hips tilt into his touch and he strokes lower, feeling how wet you are.  With his other thumb he pulls the shorts to the side to see your pussy.  He inhales deeply through the nose, looking you in the eyes.  "Only thing better than a bad girl?  A good girl gone bad." 

His hands find your ass and pull you into his crotch where the stiffness of his warm length takes your breath away, and you softly gasp. 

“Yeahhh,” he says.  “You like that?”  

Yeah, you do, and he clearly knows you do.  But you’re super high and too embarrassed to say it.  

“Bet you're a virgin, too.”  

“I-"

“You don’t have to say it,” he whispers, to your relief.  Then he leans forward and his facial hair brushes your cheek as he brings his mouth to your ear and says, "Cause I know you don't wanna be." 

He leans back, pulling you into him harder and his arousal swells into you, making your walls twitch and your clit throb.

He wets his lips then wraps one arm around you and cradles your head with the other hand.  His lips press into yours and a wave of arousal ripples through your body.  Your nipples harden.  His tongue brushes yours and he grinds into you with a soft grunt into your mouth. You've never been more turned on. 

Your lips tear away from his as you literally swoon. He easily catches you as you slump to the side. 

"Whooaa, okay."  He holds you in one arm and reaches to open the door.  "Let's get you some fresh air."

-

He puts a hoodie of his on you and you go outside for a few minutes.  You're embarrassed.

"Sorry," you say, unsure what you're sorry for. 

"No, no, don't be sorry baby.  That was all me." He puts his arms loosely around you and you rest your head on him.  "Couldn't think straight cause you're so goddamn hot." 

You smile shyly into his shirt.  "I think I'm okay now."

"Good." He strokes the crown of your head with his whole palm. 

You ask, "Think Sarah will be back soon?"

"Doubt it.  Usually sneaks back in around dawn. Wanna watch another movie?"

"Um, sure."

"We can do whatever we want." 

-

It’s not long into the movie before things heat up again.  You’re at the end of the sofa and he has his arm around you.  He caresses you with that hand, starting with your arm, then your shoulder, then your collar bone.  Out of the corner of your eye, he adjusts himself.  “Lord almighty,” he says under his breath.  

“Why dontcha bring those pretty legs up here?”

“I haven’t shaved in-”

“Think I care?"  he urges your legs into his lap, pulls them all the way into his crotch, and presses them down on his solid wood with a soft grunt.  Your eyes go wide and you take a deep breath.  He stops pretending to watch the movie and eases your legs down flat on the sofa, scooting himself out from under them, getting on his side. 

"C'mere," he growls. He watches his fingers trail up your leg all the way to your breast as he lays down facing you, slightly on top of you.  His gaze remains fixed there as he slides his hand up your thin pajama shirt and palms a breast.  Your mouth falls open and he grinds his hard package against your hip.  Then he lifts your top up to see both your tits. "God damn," he says.  

He slides his hand into your shorts, brings his face to yours, and starts kissing you again, hard and slow, his tongue claiming your mouth, your lips softly accepting every movement of his while he gropes your dripping seam desperately and moans into your mouth.  His movements intensify, becoming more urgent as he gets between your legs.  Sweat is blotching his shirt.  He slides an arm under yours and a whiff of his armpit opens your legs. 

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes as your hips tilt for him.  He urgently tugs down your shorts, breathing heavily.  He expertly fingers you, making your toes curl.  He inserts one, then two thick digits.  Three is a stretch but not too bad.  “perfect,” he murmurs.  He fingers you for a minute, both of you getting hornier. 

-

Then he frees himself from his waistband and his thick arousal falls heavily against your slickened clit, sending a bolt of need to your chest. He drags it down and nestles his tip at your entrance, then his large hand lifts your thigh and you wrap your leg around him. He looks up at your face, reads your eyes and says in a low rumble, "yeah, you're ready for it. . . couldn't be more ready, could ya?" Maybe he’s right.  Maybe. 

He grunts as he begins to push into your tight, wet hole and you gasp at the stretch of his tip.  "C'mon now, you can do it baby."  He inhales deeply, then pushes further.  "Yeahh." It hurts, but the pain is nothing compared to the incredible feeling of being filled. He's pretty slow and gentle, but never asks if you're okay.  He pushes harder until about half his shaft is sheathed by your warmth.  "Perfect fuckin' pussy" he breathes. "Tight as hell. Wet 'n ready for this cock."

"C'mon, baby."  He retreats halfway before plunging to the hilt, parting your insides and bottoming out with a shudder.  There's an unfamiliar, primal look on his face that stirs something deep inside you.  He stays there, all the way inside for a moment as though trying not to come instantly at the feeling of you wrapped around him.  He pulls back again, all but the tip, then pushes forward, a little smoother but still a squeeze.  He does it again and groans "Yeeahh," he bottoms out.  His face makes him look like he's in pain.  

-

He lowers his chest over yours and the way he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.  He slowly backs out and fills you up again, saying "Good, that's it baby" as you tilt your hips.  He kisses you and his cock slowly recedes then pushes in again.  Your ample slick allows him to slowly pump in and out of you even with you being so tight.  

He kisses you aggressively, then plants his lips on your neck as he buries his length in you again and again.

Slower, then at a moderate pace. He kisses you.  He looks at you. "Hot as hell, baby." He gropes a breast.  Then his lips graze your throat as he fucks you. 

You’re looking over his shoulder with his face in your neck.  Never imagined this would happen tonight.  Or here, or with him, but he feels incredible.     He fills you up harder, then a little faster.  The way his back stretches his tight t-shirt is a vision.

“God damn." Your whole body is rocking with this power of his cock slamming into you.  "You’re a natural, baby." He thrusts hard with a grunt.  "Already takin’ my cock this good?” He brings his filthy mouth back to yours and keeps filling you with his thick cock. "Ohh yeah. . . " His breathing changes.  "wanna come in this tight pussy so fuckin bad" 

"You can't, I don't-"

It looks like it kills him. He mutters, "fuck," holds his breath,  then pulls out, "Ahhh," he releases the breath with a loud sigh and spills his cum on your bare stomach.  His anguished face, his cock in his hand, his cum shooting out onto your stomach, it’s the hottest scene.  You feel it searing into your mind.  

-

He tucks himself away, lies down at your side again, and starts fingering you, circling your clit.  “Look even hotter with my cum all over ya.” He’s making you feel things you thought only a toy could do, not even your own hand.   “C’mon, baby, come for me.”  It doesn’t take long before your back arches and you’re seeing stars, jolting into his big, veiny hand, his dark eyes watching you in a trance.  

As your orgasm fades, a smirk spreads across his face.  “Damn, didn’t think it’d be that easy.” 

The blood drains from your face. 

“No, no, makin’ you come, baby.  Makin’ you come.”

He cups your face reassuringly.  “You’re real damn hot, you know that? Fuck.”

-

Thank you so much for reading and interacting 🖤

This Joel evolves into the menace that is night walks!Joel.

I have a NEW dads' best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader series Left in Lincoln.

Night Walks : @tehweeana @blackvelveteen1339 @cutesyscreenname @ele-meno-p

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

please lmk if i missed you!

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things you didn't notice (probably)

Finally, I am watching a good K-BL and can enjoy multi-layered meanings within language, culture and translated subs altogether (unlike with Thai series where I need to learn a new language again xD)

So I'll be pointing out some fun things that I noticed for fellow foreign viewers =) Beware of a long post!

Disclaimer: I'm not fluent in Korean, but I've been learning and using it for years + lived and studied in Korea for a while so I'm offering my perspective and knowledge but it might not be the Ultimate Truth

Episode 1

«I prefer lonely supporting characters instead of happy protagonists. Cha Yeowoon is still unhappy. ... - Where are you going? - To see my main (최애). I mean, Cha Yeowoon.»

The word Tae Myungha used to described Cha Yeowoon, as I heard, was actually 최애 (choe-ae). It's a slang that can be translated as "my favourite" and typically is used for K-pop group members, meaning "my bias" (think One True Pairing but One True Person instead). Then, as his fellow classmate gets confused, hearing such word referring to a popular student in their school, Tae Myungha changes to "I mean, Cha Yeowoon", and it works because the word and the name sound similar.

Myungha uses this word because in the intro he stated that Yeowoon is his favourite character in the book out of all. So basically, his first reaction was "- Where are you going? - I'm gonna run to find my blorbo<3", which is so admirable. I'd also get obsessed with making happy my fav side character that was treated unfairly by creators :D

«Kids like chocolate, right? ... (Yeowoon grabs an icecream, Myungha grabs the same, adding with surprise:) Didn't see that coming. Bi-Bi-Big (비비빅)? You eat like an old man.»

What surprised Myungha there? That Yeowoon chose this icecream->

It's a traditional icecream that is made out of red beans. This taste is usually associated with older people (because typically kids like sweet things and older people like less sweet/bland tastes), also red beans or read bean paste is used in many traditional desserts in Korea. Yeah, who would've thought that a high schooler would choose this icecream out of all options?

Later, Myungha gets the message "You can compare Bi-Bi-Big to big Ba-Bum-Bar (another icecream with "old man taste" from chestnuts), why the hell would you eat it?" and gets confused as the message seems missent. I am confused as well, because Myungha wasn't the one choosing this icecream and Yeowoon wasn't typing in his phone. Considering that the phone number is unknown, I can guess that it might be a commentary from the book's author who's watching Myungha playing his story game? Let's figure it out in the next episodes!

«- You eat like an old man. - Do you play sports? - No. - Weird. You're a whiner like I've always heard. - Kids these days have no manners.»

My quick translation->

«- You eat like an old man. - Sunbae, do you play sports? - No. - Strange. You sound like one of those older jerks (꼰대). - Kids these days have no manners.»

More on the differences between Tae Myungha and Cha Yeowoon:

Myungha tried to poke Yeowoon about his "old man tastes", and Yeowoon called him out for his conservative/stereotypical thinking.

Yeowoon keeps calling Myungha sunbae (because he knows MH's a senior in their school so he must be polite), and Myungha REALLY TALKS LIKE AN OLD MAN to him ("Kids these days" in the subs does translate this style of speech correctly! I'm glad). We all know he's much older before he was thrown into high school times (~25-30yo?), but his words and intonations really make you feel like he's 50-60yo or something xD

Yeowoon doesn't like this at all, though, so he calls Myungha a sort of derogatory term 꼰대 (kkondae), which is used to described old conservative people who are set in their ways and keep nagging and scolding young people for not behaving properly. And, as a runner, he implies that there are senior sportsmen that are hazing or nagging younger sportsmen like this as well, that's who Myungha reminds him of. No wonder the affection stats fell down in the minus zone so hard!

There you go, guys, these are my comments on the first episode of Love for Love's sake! It is filmed so well, I like the idea, and I really enjoyed it (if this one gets really popular just like Semantic Error, we might get more BLs about gamers or gamedevs and I WILL LOVE IT I am so here for it, hehe)

Stay tuned for more as I watch next episodes :]

[sixosix]

BABY, CAN WE DANCE THROUGH AN AVALANCHE? | LYNEY

notes 1.5k words, aether and lyney have a talk :o

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

They watch in stunned silence as you storm off, ice materializing where you go. To Lyney, it’s an all-too-familiar sight. He’s seen it before: your back turned on him, and his body frozen from not just the frost but fear. Why didn’t you say it back?

Aether is able to snap out of it quickly, wiping off his hurt for the sake of chasing after you.

“Y/N!” he calls out, moving to run, but he couldn’t get too far.

Lyney whips an arm in front of him. “Don’t.”

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Lyney who says it. Lynette stares at her brother, bewildered—how, of all times, does he choose to surrender now? If anything, they expected Lyney to be the one to chase after you first. Why didn’t you say it back? But Lyney has his eyes trained on Aether, cold and calculating.

None of this would’ve happened if I never met you.

“What did she mean by that, Traveler?”

Lyney tips his head as far as it can go, blood rushing to his head and leaving him a little dizzy. To his dismay, the loveseat stays firmly in place. It would’ve been better if he fell—perhaps it would’ve hurt less than whatever the hell you two have going on.

“Are you still sulking?” Lynette asks, sitting beside him and jostling the seat.

Lyney grunts.

Lynette sips her tea, her tail flicking against his arm in a gesture of comfort. The air no longer held the tense chill in the warmth of their home, but they could still feel it. Lynette could hide it with her face, but her ears were tucked—she was nervous.

Aether’s in their home. Lyney is unhappy about this arrangement and is not afraid to show it. He doesn’t spare the Traveler a glance, doesn’t give him words of comfort. Aether has been obediently silent so far, which was somewhat weird. Lyney had been expecting Aether to rub it on his face that Lyney had been—for a lack of better words—dumped. Instead, he sits there by the chair they pulled from the dining table, looking like a distressed puppy.

“Are we not going to do anything?” Aether asks, which is the question they’ve all been thinking in their heads.

“We will,” Lyney says. Of course they will. Just not like this. He has watched you leave before, and you have returned to him eventually—he can be patient again. This is just far too delicate right now.

It has only been about thirty minutes, at most. Lyney already has a plan, and it’s not his most favorite, but he can’t face you at the moment. Or, instead, it’s you who can’t face him at this moment.

Lynette is aware of his plan, even without him saying anything. Aether obviously doesn’t have the advantage of twin telepathy, so he sits there wondering, distressed, and confused.

“I know it’s a little too late to ask this, but who exactly is Y/N to you two?” asks Aether, his voice loud in the room's dead silence.

“It’s a long story,” Lynette says.

“Would it change anything if I told you?” Lyney challenges.

“To me, it would change something,” answers Aether, open and frustratingly honest.

Lyney lowers his gaze. “Then listen. At least now you’ll understand what you got yourself into.”

When you left the House, you also left an unsettling silence that jarred Lyney even to this day; he can’t visit so freely and not bear the weight of your disappearance. It was eerie and dark, and everyone was afraid to even speak your name for the first few days—like you were dead, like you weren’t to be seen again, and even the thought of that pained Lyney like no other.

The House was no longer your home; he had to accept that eventually. But it was fun and beautiful when you were still a part of it, and he would never choose to forget nor act like it never happened, as fleeting as it was. 

When Lyney first saw you, he felt childlike wonder. At first glance, it was nothing special—just curiosity. You were beautiful and stood out amongst the other orphans, like a glow, and Lyney was just a moth.

Before the House, magic was just a means of survival. He performed for the money, hoping that he and his sister could live another day. But when he saw you, striking the air hard and fast, Lyney thought you wore it like it was something special. You were performing, too, for the eyes of praise, but he understood that you weren’t the same. You were bright, lit up with a smile. You were enjoying it. Maybe that was what Lyney lacked; maybe that was what drew him to you.

He could be wrong. Maybe it was already love by then, or at least the beginning of it.

Lyney remembered moments that he’d bet you wouldn’t. Like when his sister got her Vision, and he was left behind. He was crumpled on the floor, a pathetic mess, while her sister was thrown into the face of danger. He couldn’t sit still, but he couldn’t do anything either.

“Are you still sulking?”

Lyney whined pitifully. “How can I protect her when she’s so far away?”

You glanced at him briefly, then traced the dull tip of your weapon. “You’re twins, are you not? Have you considered that Lynette was thinking of how to protect you, too?”

“What are you getting at?”

“You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love. The least you could do in return for Lynette’s hard work is to stop whining and keep up with her, no?”

Lyney blinked, offended and furious, but his anger was washed over by the warm feeling he sometimes got when you talked to him like this. “Are you also working hard?” he asked, settling beside you.

“I have to.”

You felt so much older than he was. So goddamn beautiful that it felt like Lyney was forced to never look away, painfully captivated. 

But as he learned more about you, he realized a few things: You were his age; you were never older than him; you were just trying to survive; you were more alike than he first thought. It felt like when it was just him and Lynette, and he had to act brave for his sister. Only it seemed you were doing it by yourself, for yourself.

Still beautiful, but in all the wrong ways. He found contentment in this pattern of pursuit, of pushing and pulling—it was the kind of thrill that he relished above all, and he could tell that, in some part of you that you wouldn’t admit, you liked it, too.

Lyney wonders to this day where it all went wrong.

Lyney finishes his story. Lynette sits quietly by the side, both of them watching Aether curiously. Aether has his head hanging low, frowning, no doubt surprised that the children of the House have deeper stories than he expects. They are not just Fatui. They were children, too—orphans trying to survive.

Lyney hopes Aether understands.

They are orphans who have hopes and dreams and hobbies. Orphans that had motivations and banter and dumb crushes. Orphans like you and Lyney, a complication, a commotion: something that Lyney wouldn’t trade for the world (until you did). Orphans that just happened to be Fatui.

“If you had a choice, would you still be a Fatuus?” Aether asks.

”It was never a choice for me; it was simply the path we were meant to take,” Lyney says.

Aether sinks into the couch, and Lyney thinks he finally gets it.

“Tell me what she meant by saying all this is your fault.”

Aether winces. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair, right?”

And so Aether tells them both about how he really met you. It was a devised plan, albeit a failed one due to the complications of their relationship and your unfinished business with ‘Father’ and the one next in line for the throne. Even now, you have to lie about yourself and run from the backlash.

“So you were doing it because of… us,” Lynette trails off.

“And look where that got me,” Aether sighs. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I really am sorry. I underestimated all of you.”

Lyney snorts. “At least you’re right about one thing.”

Aether’s gaze sinks to the ground guiltily.

Perhaps, to Aether, savior of regions, known worldwide as a hero, it was difficult to comprehend. Perhaps he met too many Fatui that had been out to get him, and stabbed him in the back, but Lyney needed Aether to understand that the Fatui was a large organization—you have The Doctor, then you have Lyney and his siblings. Lyney could only hope that Aether wouldn’t become so hostile after meeting you, too bright for this world, that you got snuffed out.

“Why did you do it?” Lyney asks. For whose sake was Aether trying so hard for?

“My sister.”

Lyney’s brows raise. “Your sister?”

“I’m doing all of this for her.”

You’re not the only one working harder to protect the one you love.

Lyney supposes he can’t hate Aether that much for that. And selfishly, Lyney supposes he can’t truly hate Aether because he brought you back to him. In a vague sense of camaraderie, Lyney understands.

Aether scratches at the back of his head. “Well, you have a plan, right?”

Lynette nods. “We’re waiting for him.”

“Who are we waiting for?”

Lyney directs his gaze to the ceiling, beyond it, to the sky. If any Archon was listening…  “The only person Y/N probably trusts right now.”

a/n this chapters very short i know but the next one is going to be posted in a few hours so theres going to be more

TAGLIST moved to comments bc tumblr is being annoying :(

[teyamsatan]

stepbro!netayam x reader???

this did something to me, ngl. hope you enjoy anonnie.

Neteyam and reader are aged up. minors dni! 🔞

Warnings: stepcest, strong language, mentions of smut, cursing, blood, violence

wc: 850 words

⤷ stepbro!neteyam would be so good at hiding his true feelings and intentions, as he has had to do with every other aspect of his being. he would give you fleeting looks, and lingering stares when no one is looking, and hope they couldn't see the hunger and desire in them, that no one could smell it in the way precum stained the loincloths that he now had to change every fucking day.

⤷ stepbro!neteyam would let moans of your name slip past his gritted teeth as he wraps his fingers around his thick cock, pumping himself harder, faster, thinking of your frilly loincloths and your beaded tops that left very little to the imagination, and how he would die and kill to rip off of you, how he aches to bend you over his father's desk and do to you what he was doing to his hands. with you in mind, and the thought of you, sprawled like that, your cunt fully on display for him, whining and writing as he rutted into you, it takes no time to for him to come, thick spurts of iridescent cum dripping down his fingers.

⤷ stepbro!neteyam would let out his anger and frustrations with the situation by bloodying and bruising anyone who dared get too close to his beloved baby step sister, the only time he ever lost his precious composure. he would have no shortage of excuses for why another man ended up needing stitches and ointments in the Tsa'hik's tent.

"'teyam, why did you do that?"

"Because he gave Kiri a weird look."

"Because he called Lo'ak a freak behind his back."

"Because he's just a dick."

what he wanted to say, but couldn't, was that they all looked at you, undressing you with their heathen eyes, fantasising about scenarios that they shouldn't, that would never happen, not while he had a say in it. because you were his, and fuck it, he'd gladly go through each one of them to prove it, if he had to.

⤷ stepbro!neteyam would finally take it too far when he punched a guy that you liked, while he was running his fingers up and down your thighs at one of the clan celebrations.

the air was warm and filled with sonorous laughter and electrifying music, with faint traces of alcohol and arousal. it was mating season, and you could feel it in the air, the love, and passion, the excitement and fervour overtaking the young Na'vi. you were not immune to it, and definitely not right now, as Luanu, one of the most well-respected warriors in the clan, who also happened to be gorgeous and obviously into you, was touching you, his fingers progressively further up your thigh, and you hoped he wouldn't stop, that nobody would come and interrupt, at least not until you did. he wasn't your first choice of someone you wanted to fuck you senseless, but he'd have to do, since you very well couldn't have him.

the him that was now standing in front of you, fangs bared and shaking his fist furiously in the air, Luanu's blood on his knuckles matching the one currently splattered on your face from the force of the blow.

"what the actual fuck, Neteyam? are you out of your mind?"

he didn't answer you as he pulled you forcefully away from the crowd, not until you reached a secluded part of the home tree, not until he pushed you back, your back getting scratched painfully against the rough bark.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? acting like a slut for everyone to see, for our parents to see?"

"you need to lighten up, teyam. it's a celebration. the beginning of mating season, no less. there's no harm in a having a little fun while we're at it."

his eyes were wild and feral, his lips curled in a snarl as he approached you, until his breath was fanning over your ears, his voice barely above a whisper.

"sis, if you wanted a little fun, you don't go to grunts like Luanu. you come to me."

his tongue licked a stripe from you collarbone to behind your ears, and you shuddered, slick pooling in your tewng, cunt throbbing in need. you've imagined Neteyam fucking you for so long. it was so immoral, so wrong, and you didn't know whether you were more shocked, scared or eager that your wildest dreams were now manifesting themselves in front of your eyes.

his nose scrunched up, inhaling, and he smirked at what he sensed.

"little sis, already dripping for me, huh? i have wanted to feel your tight little cunt around my cock for so long, and you're saying I could have had it all this time? that you wanted it, too?"

you said nothing as your breath laboured and your eyes closed, just letting his words pierce through you, allowing them to wash over you, allowing them to float around you, filling you with need and deep, deep craving.

"you have to use your words, pretty girl. do you want your step bro to fuck you dumb?"

"fuck, yeah."

tewng - loincloth

maybe part 2? maybe not? 👀

taglist: @fanboyluvr

[alphajocklover]

Can we see the Alpha turning a couple of gay betas who used to be boyfriends into pussy obsessed straight bros?

Someone clearly saw my post about Alphas and sexuality. When I talk about Alphas I usually talk about them in general terms, since getting close and personal with an Alpha is practically begging to get turned into their beta. I usually don’t name names or get into specifics. But since you asked…

Meet Alvin and Benny. They’re boyfriends, or at least they were when this photo was taken. They used to be a loving couple. Alvin, the bigger one, loved to travel and dreamed of taking a trip to Paris. He was an outgoing, friendly guy who was always very kind. Benny, the shorter one, was slightly less social, being painfully shy. Still he had a good heart, loved to write, and once you got to know him he was the funniest person you’d ever meet. Alvin and Benny were great together, being an ideal couple. They brought out the best of each other and supported eachother in everything.

And then they met Cal.

Neither of them really remember how Cal came into their lives? Was he their new neighbor? No, that wasn’t right. Was he Alvin’s new coworker? That didn’t ring true either. Maybe he was Benny’s childhood friend who had come out of the woodwork? Whoever he was, he quickly integrated into their lives. It started off with small things, like skipping drag brunch with their other gay friends to hang out with Cal, or eating a salad instead of a donut because Cal suggested they try to eat healthier. But things escalated quickly, as they usually do with Alphas. Soon Al and Ben, as they now liked to be called, were working out like crazy because they wanted to keep up with Cal. They started talking differently, using words like bro and dude almost constantly, because Cal talked like that, and they were Cal’s bros. They quickly started to forget they were ever anything but Cal’s bros, his betas. Still, through it all, they stayed a couple. It was… weird. Cal was kind of impressed honestly. Usually by the time someone became a beta they lost all interest in relationships with anyone but their Alpha. But these two… they had hung onto it, despite everything. It was impressive… and it pissed Cal off. He didn’t mind that they were gay, but he fucking hated that they were still resisting him. He was their fucking Alpha, and they were his Betas. He should have complete control over them. But he was confident in his powers, like all Alphas are.

So he made a game of it.

He decided to see how far he could push them, how many changes they could handle while still being a gay couple. It wasn’t hard to increase their libidos, nor was it hard to give them an intense urge to fuck pussy. It took 3 months for the changes to finalize, and Cal found it hilarious to watch the two former fags slowly transform, how they’d insist they were gay while also bragging to eachother and Cal about all the pussy they were getting. How they were still convinced they were boyfriends when the closest they’d get to being intimate now is when they’d spit roast a bimbo together on their cocks. In the end there never was never an exact moment where they went from gay to straight. Overtime they just slowly forgot that that was what they used to be. They didn’t think about it anymore. Their relationship with their Alpha was far more important than their relationship with each other after all. And if their Alpha wanted two pussy obsessed straight douchebags, that was what he’d get.

Maybe Cal would let them be a couple again one day. Or maybe he’d make them both into his personal cock suckers. But for now Cal was happy to watch the former fags act like a couple of straight bros. All for him.

**Another Gay to Straight story, this time taking place is my ‘Alpha with a Capital A’ world. I love it when people ask me to expand on the stuff I’ve made, and I had fun writing this. Hope you liked it! If anyone ever wants to see me expand more on anything I’ve written before, just ask!**

[rorja]

today it seems i can’t stop thinking about neurologist!suguru… i came up with the idea for fun while i was watching a show and now it is haunting me with silly scenarios and stuff.

so please sit here a minute while i try to explain the vision i had this afternoon…! —🐣

neurologist!geto who quickly becomes the talk among the nurses of the university hospital he started working at last month. sure, he’s an excellent doctor and a great person and of course so polite and kind with his patients. but no, that’s not the only reason why he began to attract people’s curios stares.

neurologist!geto that is on duty the very next day after a troublesome night shift. visiting each patient of his ward dutifully while being accompanied by a nurse— who, coincidentally enough, is the one that seems to notice that odd little detail first.

neurologist!geto who becomes the center of the rumors that same afternoon. he’s a thirty years old beautiful man, and yet he seems to not have a ring on his finger! that’s shocking, a huge news! who would’ve thought that an amazing man like him was yet to marry. it was also weird considering the many people that got a crush on him, too…

neurologist!geto who shocks every doctor and every nurse in that hospital once again when the “bring your kids to work” day eventually arrives. showing up to the reception area of the main building gently squeezing the hand of a small and shy brunette child on his left while holding close to his chest a more enthusiastic and energetic blonde kid, who points her tiny finger around the decorated entrance. it takes less than one hour to discover that doctor Geto Suguru is a dad of two twins named Mimiko and Nanako.

neurologist!geto who happily answers questions about his daughters and encourages them to greet his friends, Satoru and Shoko, in the main hallway of the hospital building next to a coffee machine and a snack one. visibly ignoring the widened eyes of all the nurses passing by. he doesn’t care if they are shocked, what is important for him is that he got to opportunity to change the routine for his daughters, hoping they’ll have a wonderful time while prioritizing their comfort.

neurologist!geto who calls your name loudly while sitting in the cafeteria once he spots you looking at the menu. and you immediately light up once you see the two little girls eating their lunch boxes and talking about how cool their dad is while working. for an instant you hear Mimiko say ‘i want to be a doctor like him when i grow up’ and you can feel your gaze instantly softening. looking at geto with a fond smile as he tells her that he’ll happily support her if she wants to study medicine, but that he’ll be proud no matter what she chooses in the future.

neurologist!geto who surprises everyone in the hospital the day after. a silver band sitting comfortably on his ring finger that the nurses swear wasn’t there before. and when questioned about it, his only answer is “oh my wedding ring? i lost it about a month ago. me and my daughters were playing on a boat we’ve rented for their summer break, when it accidentally slipped from my finger into the water. i had to wait a bit to get a new one, but it was worthy. i’ll pay more attention to it in the future” with a polite smile before resuming his paperwork.

neurologist!geto who every day after work finally is free to come home to you and the twins you’ve adopted a week after your wedding. enjoying a simple evening watching a movie on the couch or playing some card games on the carpet of the living room, before helping you tucking the twins to bed. laughing with you when he recalls the odd questions about his ring from your colleagues of the pediatric ward back at the hospital, while helping you preparing the bed to go to sleep too.

neurologist!geto who is tired from his work, and yet focuses all the remaining energy in pulling you to his chest gently. holding your half asleep figure just as tenderly, a hand easing the knots between your hair and the other hugging your waist to keep you close to him. leaving a kiss on the crown of your head before closing his eyes with a content sigh. both of you eventually falling asleep before the loud melody of the clock wakes you up for a new day of work.

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[silencesscreams]

be my mistake

steve harrington x f!reader (smut)

“steve, how could i avoid you? it’s impossible, you’re everywhere i look!“

a/n: also i slipped in a little amy march reference in the discussion part, its my steve fic, sorry in advance if you dont like it and its shitty!! english isn’t my first language so sorry about any grammar mistakes

warnings: angsty-ish, best friends w the scoops troop (i love them so muchhh), afab reader, crying, swearing, kissing, praise, oral (f receiving), begging, a bit of degradation, penetration, unprotected (do not do this pls.),

MINORS DNI

you could say that working at the local family video had its perks.

specially when your two closest friends worked with you but, of course, none of them knew about your recently resurfaced crush on one of them.

steve was not the same guy he was when you met him, sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, and with you, but he was nicer. he was sweet to customers, he even occasionally 'babysit' (that was how robin called hanging out with the kids he was friends with).

recently, steve had become more touchy towards you, he was constantly giving you hugs, he even held your hand at the movies once! sure, you and steve had become best friends, but did he know the effect he had over you? he must know. you blushed whenever he barely touched you, and you felt like your feelings were pretty obvious, you never knew how to hide them properly. he must know, right?

something else, which robin had noticed and commented on with you, was that steve hadn't flirted with any girls in a while now. sure it was weird, because thats basically the thing he did the most, but you didnt really bother, it actually made you a bit less insecure.

you, steve and robin started to watch movies every late monday, since you had less customers on those days, so you'd usually 'work late' and get some takeout and watch some shitty movie you'd probably talk through and make very bad jokes about later.

“ladies! im going on a second date tonight!” he said, barging in with a smile on his face. you could feel your heart fall to the ground, you didn’t even know he had a first date with someone recently.

“what? with who?” robin asked confused.

“her names camila, she goes to state college, i think”

“hm, and did you tell her you have no dreams for the future and work at a family video?” robin teased him.

“oh please, i have a lot of dreams!” he complained, putting on his vest.

“sure you do, stevie” you commented, rolling your eyes playfully. why were you feeling so stupid?

you could feel your stomach fall to the ground, god, that hurt.

it was not like you ever even kissed him. so that meant he was just flirting with you for the fun, then, god, that hurt even more.

and plus, it was steve harrington.

you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship ever, specially not because of some crush you had, if you could even call it that.

it lasted so long it was probably a free fall at this point.

and so steve went on the date.

and with that, steve had a new girlfriend.

and you hated every single cell in her body.

camila was mean, evil, sick, twisted, a bitch, disgusting and she had this god awful breath. her perfume left you with headaches. and did i say she was mean? because she really was.

but you couldn’t help to not be at least a bit angry at him, and so you found yourself avoiding him at all costs. mostly because he was always with camila and you found her insufferable, but it was also because, yes, you were hurt.

then steve and camila broke up.

so you found out, you had no excuse not to hang out with him anymore. you had no excuse to skip movie sessions, outings, or anything else.

and so whenever a hang out would come up, you suddenly had a sore throat, a headache, a fever. and you don’t know why, but robin wasn’t judging you for it.

you told her about your crush and told her that was the reason you weren’t hanging out with them outside of work, and she understood. she didn’t even question it, and that made you feel worse about it.

“okay, whenever you’re ready to hang out again, feel free to come over, alright?” that was all she said. and it hurt deeply, because you missed your best friends.

but being around steve was unbearable.

and you still, gave it a shot.

monday came around, and robin invited you to hang out at steve’s and watch friday the 13th. for the first time in 2 months, you said yes.

punctually, you were at steve’s, it was 7pm and that was half an hour later to what robin scheduled with you, but her car wasn’t on the driveway. that definitely made you nervous. one thing was hanging out with steve AND robin, the other was hanging out with steve.

took a while for steve to answer the door, once he did, he was standing there in all his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and shirtless. you could feel all your dignity (which was very little) leave your body. you were feeling your body get hotter by the second and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

“hey, come in” he smiled awkwardly, looking around his house nervously.

“sorry i didn’t answer the door earlier, my family’s out of town and i forgot and assumed someone else would answer it.” you smiled at him.

“no problem” you said, trying so hard not to look at him.

“hm, i’m gonna put something on, sorry about that. feel free to sit on the couch, eat, whatever you want to do is fine”

“okay” you smiled, heading over to his living room. there was popcorn on the coffee table, the vhs tape on the table and there was a half filled dr pepper bottle on the floor. you thought it was sweet steve put this together, why aren’t you that mad at him anymore?

when he came back, he was wearing a old t shirt, stained with something that looked like ketchup. he was smelling good. had he put on perfume? god, you missed his smell.

“you wanna start now?” he asked, putting the tape in the vcr.

“maybe we should wait for robin, right?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“she’s not coming. didn’t she tell you? she got caught up with something at work.”

“oh, right.” she didn’t tell you, and you were sure that was written all over your face.

“y/n?” he called.

“yeah?” you looked at him, your ears flushed.

“have you been avoiding me?” oh shit.

“what do you mean?” you decided to lie shamelessly was just the way to go.

“you know what i mean. you never go out with us anymore, and now i’ve just mentioned robin isnt coming, i realize its because of me.” oh shit.

“what?” you laugh anxiously. “no, i just wanna see the movie, its not like that.”

“stop it. you havent been able to look at me for weeks now and i dont get it. goddamn it! im your best friend!” he sighed, rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was nervous.

“steve, how could i possibly avoid you? you’re everywhere i look!” you blurt out, he was looking at you now. “you’re at my job, you’re near my house, you give me a ride home, you’re in my fucking friend group!”

“i just wanna know what i did, because i never meant to hurt you-“

“steve, stop it, you’re being mean.” you were looking at his hairline, not actually being able to see his eyes in that moment, you were about to do it. “you know how i feel about you and you always have.”

that was probably it, that was the death of the friendship.

“what?” he lowered his head, trying to get something out.

“you dont get to do this to me, okay? you don’t. not when you desperately flirted with me for months just to get a girlfriend. not when you tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. not when i’ve been in love with you since middle school.” you felt like you just had a knife shoved into your stomach because of the way he looked at you. brows furrowed, eyes empathetic, but not looking at you directly.

“im going home.” you managed to get that out, with eyes watery and cheeks flushed. you got up, trying so hard not to look back at him, counting your steps to the door.

one,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven.

you felt a hand gripping your shoulder.

“stay.” he whispered.

“what?” you turned around, looking up at his hazel colored eyes.

“stay.” his hands were on your waist.

“okay.” you answer, looking directly into his dark pupils and that was probably it for you. someday this man might just kill you, your heart was beating faster than ever and you could feel your stomach knotting and knotting and knotting, it was so silly. you felt so incredibly silly.

until he pulled you in. until he was just a few centimeters away from your lips.

it all happened way too fast.

his lips were touching yours, his hands all over you. you ran your hands through his hair, your mouth parted as his tongue slides into your mouth, licking over yours. his hands on your waist.

your hand goes under his shirt and he felt so warm, until he pulls away. you look up at him, doe eyed and he smiles at you.

he doesn’t even have to say anything, and neither do you.

he takes you up to his room, his hand pressed against your lower back, leading you upstairs with the biggest smile on his face.

he opens the door for you, as you head in you notice he’s just looking at you, blushing and shifting from foot to foot. he gives you a look you had never seen before and it makes your heart pound faster than ever. you can’t bear to hide a smirk.

he stood still in the doorway, but he quickly steps forward once you go up to him and peck his lips, giving him a perfect view of your bra.

holy fucking shit.

then, like it didn’t drive you insane, you pull away, grinning at how he went forward with you.

you were sat at the edge of the, bed legs crossed and eyes observant as he locked his door.

with a speed that drives you crazy, steve lifts you and pulls you into his lap, so you’re straddling him. he does that so quickly, it makes you yelp once you land comfortably, instinctively grinding your hips down, making him groan, the low tone of his voice making heat shoot between your thighs.

“such a tease.” he was toying with the hem of your skirt. “this is hot.” he whispered, voice thick as he lays his left hand on your overexposed thigh.

you go over to kiss him again but stop in the middle of the way, liking the way he looked at you. you lift his hand, from the fabric of your skirt up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. the action feels so intimate and sweet it makes him smile a bit (he also gets a bit hard but that’s not the point).

you look down at him from where your sat, eyelashes batting as you stop kissing his knuckles when he pulls his hand from you, slipping his fingers between yours and gripping your thigh with the spare hand. you kiss down his neck and he can’t stop thinking of how pretty you looked, really.

that shirt, that bralette he knew was under it.

its not fair you looked like that. he just couldn’t help himself at the sight of you.

his hands coast up your bare sides under the shirt, that made you shudder and rock a little in his lap, the relief of the friction ended suddenly as he grabd your hips and pins you down firmly onto him, so you can’t move.

it was useless to try to roll your hips, specially with his hold pinning you down.

he hums, hand sliding further up your top and squeezing just below your tit.

you can’t help but moan a little as he palms your skin, his voice low and thick as honey,

“you look like…” your head tips back at the feeling of his hands on you and he takes that as an opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck “like you’re mine.” you mewl weakly as his hand cups your breast, his touch clouding up your brain.

“you’re mine, right?” you nod eagerly, pushing up against the hand tucked under your shirt. he clicks his tongue and rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, “not an answer, hun.”

he had barely touched you and you’re already shaking, breathing heavily and face flushed.

he started kissing your neck, nipping at it.

“answer or you’re not cumming tonight.” the timbre of his voice was incredibly low once he said that, it made your eyes round and your hips buck into air.

“steve, yes, i’m yours. i’ll be so good, please.” you whined.

he squeezes your breast in approval, humming at the way your eyes shut when he touches you.

“good girl.” he lifts you up, manhandling you as you’re being laid down on the bed, his hand leaving you and making you whine. you can feel him moving downwards, trailing kisses down your neck, stomach, before arriving between your legs.

he chuckles ad you whines, trailing soft kisses down your body.

“don’t be greedy.” he looked up at you from where he’s kissing, the waistband of your skirt, eyes wide as he takes in your already fucked out and needy expression.

“my greedy girl” you nod at that, head tilted up as your back arches up a bit, his mouth still pressing messy kisses to the inside of your thighs, “practically begging for me, huh?”

he’s mocking you, nipping at your inner thighs, marking up anywhere except where you need him. his hands are gripping and rubbing soft circles into your thighs, feeling you go lax and needy under him.

“steveee” you say, blushing at how desperate you sound, “please.”

you feel him smile against your inner thigh, looking up at you, “what it is it, princess? can’t even speak and i’ve barely done anything to you, huh, so needy.” his head drops down as he sucks another hickey into you hip, “use you words.” you grind upwards and he pins your hips down, tutting. he looks at you expecting something and you know he wont give you shit until you beg for it.

“steve, please,” your voice tapers into broken whines as your hips move on their own accord, missing his mouth. “need you in me, please, i’ll be so good for you. need you so bad, please.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby.” with that, his fingers push the fabric of your skirt up, showing your lace panties. he groans at the sight.

“shit, you’re so pretty.” he presses a kiss to your clothed core, making you moan, “gonna fuck you with these on, okay?” you nod lazily, the feeling of steve mouthing over your panties makes speaking very difficult. he grins,

“so fucked out.” he flattens his tongue over you, pushing your panties aside as he swipes his tongue over to your wet heat, lapping from your slit to your swollen clit, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re practically soaking.”

your hand has gone to his hair, your grip tightens. he knows that your pouting at that, even if he’s not looking.

steve pushes your legs farther apart, pushing your thigh up slightly as he lapped messily at your pussy.

your hands are tugging on his hair, stirring him on as he flicks over your clit in quick strokes that leave your legs shaking around his head. he looks up at you, your head thrown back slightly, shirt hitched up showing your bralette. he reaches up with one hand, helping you take of the shirt.

once its off, he sees your lacy bralette fully, straps falling down as your back arches. it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

he lifts your hips slightly, pressing two digits to your slick entrance, watching how you try and push against them, hips pinned down as you buck down mindlessly,

“steve!” you mewl, voice wrecked. he hums, flicking over your clit with his togue. “aw, doll, is that all you can say?” he gently fucks his fingers into your tight heat, feeling the way you clench around him as you let out another mewling main, legs thrown over his shoulders as he crooks his fingers upwards, pushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. your legs tighten on either side of his head, fingers fucking faster into you, “so fucked out, its cute.”

you blush red, eyes shut and lips parted in soft whines of his name. he liked the way you said it.

his fingers curl against your g-spot, fucking into you in tune with the quick movements of his tongue.

“fuck, steve, ju-just like that, please” he’s placing sloppy kisses over your clit, his fingers thrusting into you, picking up their pace as you clench around him, dripping over his hand.

“fuck, so pretty for me, baby” he groans as he kisses your clit, “such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to fuck you, gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” he watches how you nod weakly between your choked moans of ‘yesyessteve’. you clench around him, his fingers fucking rapidly in and out of your cunt. you were just about to scream once he leaned forward, taking you clit in his mouth, lips latching the sensitive bud and sucking hard, fingers still curling up against your overworked spot as you grind upwards into his mouth and hand, his palm grinding against your entrance.

his fingers fuck into you fast and rough, his free hand reaching up to palm your breast through the fabric of your bra, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer to your climax.

“i’m gonna cum, oh my god, i’m gonna cum don’t stop please-“ you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. your thighs were clenching around his head, your hands curling in his hair as he lapped at you clit, his fingers hooking against your heat, watching how you fell apart at his touch, hips bucking as you chased your high.

“steve- fuck- you’re so fucking good” you can barely finish a sentence, grinding against his mouth desperately.

he loves you like this, whimpering and so needy, talking through broken little whines. the way you’re begging has him working over you faster.

he groans, feeling the was you clench around him, your slick walls contracting around his digits,

“fuck, you like that, don’t you? being mine? only good for me, huh?” any coherent answers get lost in your pleas of yes, please. he chuckles, fucking his fingers harder into you.

“ohmygodsteve” you’re a moaning mess, legs spread wide and shaking, his tongue circling your clit after his hand dropped, gripping your hip to lift you up slightly, fingers fucking into you slightly deeper. you’re praising him breath;essay, making his fingers move faster, sucking harder on your clit. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight of you making him impossibly hard as he ground his hips into the mattress, taking in the way your head was tipped back, how your mouth was parted in soft moans of his name, how your fingers are gripped at his hair, grinding into his mouth and hand.

“aw, are you gonna cum already?” you nod as best as you can, his fingers are moving roughly in you, pulling you towards your finish. you try to hold off when he murmurs, flicking your clit with his tongue.

“cum for me, let me feel you squeeze my fingers with that thigh pussy.” you cum hard on his tongue, his digits still fucking into you, drawing you out of it. your climax crashes over you in waves, the feeling of being fucked open when you came making you whine.

you’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out of you. steve reaches up and pins your legs up to your chest, kissing you hard and rough. he nips ate your lips and murmurs,

“still need me, baby?” he’s rubbing your cheeks and you can’t help but push against his touch. your voice is broken and whinny,

“yes, please, need you so bad.” he kisses you again and you can feel his hair brushing over your face,

“good fucking girl.” you practically preen from his praise, as he sits up, taking off his shirt and lowering his sweatpants, he takes a moment to dip his hand below his waistband to palm himself through his boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad,” you whine in response, as he pushes is boxers down, his erection hitting up against his stomach. you moan then, seeing him stroke his cock at the sight of you, he chuckles, running his hand down his shaft at the way you’re whining for him.

“needy little slut, aren’t you?” you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance as he lines himself up to you.

“your needy little slut” you say, grinding against his tip, your slick coating him. he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his voice low as he presses himself closer to you, stretching your cunt around him.

“of course you are” he’s spreading your legs and kissing you. he rocks his hips forward, not fucking you, but enough to make you moan, “tell me if you want to stop, okay?” with that, he pushes into you.

pushing his thick length into you in one stroke, the sudden stretch making you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on that soft spot,

“still so tight” he wastes no time starting to ove, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. “fuck, feels so fucking good” he kisses your neck, cooing at you. “pretty girl, look at you, taking it like such a good little slut.” he’s pulling your bra down, the flimsy lace pushed back. he fucks you harder, your tits bouncing with each hard thrust into you. you’re moaning lewdly as he thrusted forward, his cock stretching you open. it feels so good, the feeling of him filling you up. you cried out and gripped at his arms, each hard thrust fucking you into the mattress.

“fuck, steve, harder” he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the lost.

“you asked for it, doll” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted harder. “can you take this?” he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard. “you said you wanted it harder, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burn at the way he degrades your his relentless thrusts making the heat in your abdomen start to build. you’re moaning soft chants of ‘yes, please and steve’, babbling nonsensically through your moans. his thrusts are hard and deep, pushing against your walls, filling you in perfectly.

the rapid slap of skins fills the room as his hips pick up pace, slamming against yours with each thrust, the base of his cock grinding at your clit, the friction making you moan.

“fuck, taking me so well” he’s kissing your neck and playing with your tits, “you were made for me” he groans.

“oh my god” you moan as his cock pushes into you faster, the brutal snap of his hips making you cry out, you start babbling again, chasing your high. he feels so good inside of you, the roll of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

he can tell you’re close, from the way your hips have started bucking upwards excitedly, grinding on his cock, the way your hands are gripping the nape of his neck. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper as he angles his dick perfectly against your g-spot, ramming against it with every thrust.

“please, need it so bad” you beg, steve hums, his pace unflattering as he pounds into you,

“need what, baby?”

“need to cum” your voice sounds destroyed, “please-! please, need you to make me cum, steve” he grins, grabs your hips and lifts you up, fucking into you faster than before.

“only i can do this, huh?”

“you! only you, steve!” you moan out, trying desperately to press yourself against his his harsh hursts. you clamped around him as you felt your high building again. he must’ve felt it, reaching down between you two and pinching your clit, thrusts getting faster as you cried out.

“i want you to cum” he says, fucking you onto his cock, “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

his thumb rubs your clit faster, moving in time with his rapid thrusts, hips pistoling into you, fucking you hard as you came with a loud cry of his name, this one harder than the last. walls clenched hard around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, face screwed up in pleasure as you cry out his name, has him groaning. head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

“fuck, so good for me, honey” he kisses your shoulder. “such a good girl” he murmurs. he pulls out slowly and takes you in his arms, laying you down.

he starts getting up and you tug gently at his wrist. he kisses your forehead smiling.

“don’t worry, i’m just gonna get some things in the bathroom”

when he gets back, he throws you an old shirt, which you quickly put on.

“i can go, if you want to.” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

“what? no, are you crazy? stay. come on, lets watch that movie” he smiles at you, opening the tissue case.

“okay, i will then.” you couldn’t help but smile.

“hey, about that thing you said earlier” he looked into your eyes. “i love you too.”

-

tag: @nix-rose

[sanemisstalker]

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

[nathaslosthershit]

[3] Who is Birdie Hughes?

Mat Barzal x Hughes!sister

Part of the Birdie Hughes AU

Here is the link for the Masterlist 

Summary: Why Birdie is out of the limelight and the 3 times the Hughes brothers talked about their big sister

The three Hughes brothers becoming huge hockey stars and seemingly getting those talents from their parents, was a story told over and over. 3 out of 3 Hughes boys ending up in the NHL at the same time truly showed the talent this family possessed. But there was a fourth child, the oldest and only daughter of the family, that wasn’t so much in the limelight. This was on purpose, Birdie never wanted too much attention on herself, and she thought that with three famous superstar hockey brothers, she wasn't interesting enough to warrant attention. It was shortly after Jack was drafted, and the family began to gain much more popularity, that they were all asked to be interviewed, when she sat them all down to talk.

“I don’t want to be interviewed.” She stated, firm but not unkind. “I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Well, Birdie, we will have someone there to help you out and talk you through it ahead of time.” Her dad said.

“I know that, and I know if I said anything stupid or whatever they wouldn’t include it. I just think I don’t need to add my input. They don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Sweetie, they asked you to do it because they want to know. They want to hear what you have to say as the oldest.” Her mom reasoned.

“Come on dude, you are part of the family, it would be weird if everyone but you were interviewed.” Jack argued. They didn’t understand, which wasn’t their fault. Birdie didn’t know how to articulate how she was feeling. She loved her family, she loved hockey, and she loved how her brothers were talented and had bright features ahead of them. What she didn’t love was the guilt she had always felt for quitting. She was good and she enjoyed playing, but she simply wasn’t competitive enough. She didn’t feel the need to practice day in and day out, she never stressed about whether her team was going to win because she simply enjoyed playing. After a particularly bad season had ended in high school, her coach had sat her down and berated her. Accusing her of not caring enough, of letting down her team. She vowed then and there that the only times she would be playing was for fun. She didn’t want big arenas full of fans and the best hockey equipment money could buy. She wanted the public rink and to play with her family for fun during the weekend and days they had off. 

When Birdie had finally told her family she was done, they were confused. After a bit of pushback they finally decided that if she wasn’t going to be happy, then there was no reason to make her continue. She missed it, of course, and she felt terrible for quitting, but over time she felt less and less guilty. 

She didn’t want to talk about that though, she didn’t want to explain. She also didn’t want to feel like she was less then because she chose a different life than what her brothers did.

“You can mention me, I don’t want to totally not exist from your lives publicly. I just don’t want to be interviewed right now.” She said firmly. 

Silence filled the room, till they all began to nod.

“Also, just call me Birdie. I don’t need my name out there so some crazy fan can dox me or something.” This she passed off as a joke, but they all knew she was serious at the same time. 

Ever since then, the public has known little about the mysterious first Hughes child. Comments here and there from the boys or their parents about their sister and daughter, but not much more. A childhood photo here and there, but since Luke’s draft day, there hasn’t been much of her, unless it was a hockey game she went to support her brothers at. 

Over time though, this began to change.

It started with Jack.

Out of everyone, Jack hated interviews the most. He knows it has become somewhat of a joke and over the years he just couldn’t bring himself to care about hiding his annoyance. Luckily, Jack was only doing a small sit down to talk about his family. Nothing about a game he had played where they would ask if he was sad they lost or some shit.

“Now your whole family is very close it seems. How have they impacted your career and helped you grow?”

“Uh yeah, obviously we are close and they all mean the world to me,” what the fuck is he supposed to say? “Growing up with three siblings has honestly really shaped me as a person. I owe so much to my brothers and sister. Beyond hockey even. Having three people you are sort of forced to love and grow with has been a blessing, even if they are annoying. Birdie, my sister, has had the most impact I think. She has always been kind of a, um, mentor, I guess- I don’t really know how to say it. She helped me become a better person, I don’t even want to know who I would be if I didn’t have her to somewhat keep me in check growing up. She lives not too far from me, compared to the rest of my family, so when I moved to New Jersey she helped along the way. She also did so much to help me when I was younger. Driving me to practice, driving my friends to practice too. Also school, she is the smartest person in the world, I swear. Always gave me shit for tests I would do bad on, but would always offer to help me study. And I gave her every single essay to proofread, which led to more bullying from her, but I never got too bad of a grade after she put her input in.” He was actually smiling and laughing, which is not common for Jack during an interview.

“She must be your favorite huh?” The interviewer said laughing.

“Oh she is everyone’s favorite. Although we all know Luke is her favorite. That's only because he is the youngest. She calls him ‘her baby’, which she has said since she was 6 and he was an infant.”

Luke

“So, Luke, a lot of talk from Jack about your sister. Something about you being her favorite?” The interviewer asked.

“Oh, of course I'm her favorite. Not even a question. She loves to tell me how I will always be her baby brother, despite how old I get, which is kind of annoying.” he laughs.

“Most people would find it endearing.”

“Yeah until she visits you in college and starts yapping about how you are ‘her baby’ to all your new friends. They all thought it was hilarious and I had to put up with them calling me ‘baby Hughes’ for like a month.” 

Quinn

“Tough game today, Quinn.” The reporter said, not really a question but he still waited for the captain’s response.

“Yeah. I have family here today so the loss is a little more upsetting.” He said somberly. He really hated interviews sometimes.

“Your brothers were here?”

“No, uh my sister. She surprised me last night. Didn’t know she was coming till then. She works in New York so I don’t get to see her as much as my brothers do. Something that I am jealous about.”

“Ah yes, the first Hughes child. You two being the oldest- are you guys close?”

What a weird question. But honestly, Quinn would rather talk about his sister than the game.

“Of course. It was just us for a little bit and I was more of her younger brother then, but once the other two came along we became each other’s confidant. I love it when she visits, and she is a better guest than my brothers so,” he laughs.

“You said she works in New York. Is she also involved in hockey like her siblings? Seems like a family trend so I wouldn’t be surprised.” The reporter said. 

This pissed Quinn off and he knew he had to be careful with how he answered this. Being so close, he was the first person she told when she was thinking about quitting hockey. He knew why she felt awful and he hated it. He also knew that this question would upset her, so he had to do something to make his answer one that wouldn’t hurt her even more.

“No, she actually works at a museum. She is easily the smartest out of all of us.”

“Ah so sort of a ‘black sheep of the family’, right?”

“Not whatsoever. We all love her, and since I was young she has been like the coolest person to me. It's honestly hard to explain what she does because it is much more sophisticated than me playing hockey or you asking stupid questions for a living.” Honestly, he would have dragged the interviewer more, but was soon let go because they could tell he began to have an attitude that wasn’t very good for a captain. 

“Fucking idiot” Quinn muttered after he left.

“What's wrong?” Birdie, who had waited outside for him to be done, had asked.

“Nothing, just- you are smart and talented, and everyone is so proud of you for what you do. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Quinn, what happened?” 

“The interviewer was just stupid. I had said you were here and they asked if you were involved with hockey. When I said no they were rude about it. Then I got mad. Fuck them though. Your museum shit is much cooler.” “Cooler than being a professional hockey player that makes millions of dollars? I don’t know about that, Quinn.” She teased. She was used to it. It was worse when people who actually knew her had added their two cents in, but some random interviewer wasn’t going to upset her. She wouldn’t let it. “But thank you. I am not upset, I promise.”

“Love you, B.”

“Love you too, Q.”

[amakumos]

CUPID’S CONFLICT — eight ; i see what’s happening

as the man behind cupid's corner, jungwon is responsible for getting majority of the couples at decelis together (namely, riki and his girlfriend.) but there's one person that always gets in the way of half of the couples that jungwon sets up together — you. you are the polar opposite of yang jungwon, affectionately called "evil cupid" by your friends, as you have the unfortunate ability to break any couple up within a couple of weeks just by taking a picture with them. it's not intentional, you tell jungwon. what's also not intentional, is when jungwon finds himself crushing on you.

“Have fun on your date,” Rei says to you, watching as you shove your books into a tote bag. “I’m going to work on a project.”

“Project, date, same thing. Take lots of cute pictures of Maeumi for me. ” Wonyoung says, and you roll your eyes. “We're actually going to be working. It's not a date.”

“Don’t get distracted, by his… face?” Wonyoung replies, and you give her a weird look. “What? You guys would be cute together.”

Yes, he’s good looking, and basically your exact type, but you don’t really know Jungwon well. Plus, you’re pretty sure he isn’t really fond of you.

You take the train to Jungwon's, and it's not too far away from Decelis. You don't know why he doesn't choose to stay at home instead of the dorms since he doesn't live too far. When you stand in front of the lift, waiting for those elevator doors to open, you suddenly find yourself feeling a little nervous.

You press the button to the 9th floor, watching as the doors close. It's just a project. You're not nervous. The doors open, and you step out of the lift. Jungwon says he lives in apartment 9B, and as you approach the door, you hear the sound of a dog barking.

You assume that's Maeumi.

Jungwon opens the door, wearing a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants. "Hey," he says, opening the door wider to let you in. You take your shoes off, leaving them near the entrance. "Maeumi gets really excited when he meets new people." Jungwon adds as he watches Maeumi jumping up on your leg to greet you.

"Ah," you say, smiling. "That's very cute."

"Come in," he says, and you walk into his apartment, Maeumi trailing behind you. It's very clean, and Jungwon's placed his laptops and books on his dining table. "You can just put your bag on that chair," he says, sitting down at the table.

You slide into the seat next to him, taking your own laptop out. "So... where are your parents?"

"They're working. They're a bit busy this week, so I've kinda got a lot of time for myself."

"Oh, I see." you say. It's a little awkward, with it just being you and Jungwon. In his apartment.

"So... should we start working on this?" he asks, and you nod. He opens his laptop, creating a new slideshow and sharing it with you. "We've just got to create a presentation about this poem... and analyse it. Then share it with the class. Super simple,"

"I think we can finish it in 20 minutes. I mean, we did do a lot of preparation in class - we kinda just have to type everything out now."

You find that you work well with Jungwon. He's easy to share your ideas with, and even when you find that you can't exactly find the right words to use to get your points across, he understands what you mean. The nervousness you felt before fades away, and you start to think that you were just overthinking everything, especially when it came to you thinking that Jungwon hated you.

The project's finished in less than 20 minutes, much to your surprise. "Do you wanna grab lunch?" Jungwon asks you, and you shrug. "Sure. Are we going to go outside?"

Jungwon walks towards the window, pushing the curtain aside. "Ah, it's raining. I'll just order takeout. Are you okay with fried chicken?"

You nod. "I'm not a picky eater. Order whatever you like."

You get up from your chair, making your way over to Maeumi. You sit down on the floor, away from the carpet (because you've seen Jungwon's tweets about Maeumi shitting on the carpet), and the dog comes up to you, and you give him a head pat.

You play with Maeumi for a bit, picking him up and settling him in your lap while Jungwon orders the food. "He likes you," Jungwon says, placing his phone on the table.

"Does he?" you ask, ruffling Maeumi's fur.

"Yeah, he does. Give me a second, I'm just going to get Maeumi some treats." he says, before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a container of dog treats, and he sits down beside you.

Jungwon takes one of the treats out, feeding it to Maeumi. "He's so cute." you say, and Jungwon smiles.

Jungwon's opinion of you has changed very quickly over the past few days. He supposes that it was a shitty thing to do, to hate you over the fact that you had broken up a lot of couples at the school unintentionally. He guesses that he takes his role as Cupid a little too seriously.

You're very nice. So nice to the point that Jungwon feels terrible for being mean to you on his private Twitter account.

Suddenly, Jungwon hears the door unlock. He furrows his eyebrows - his parents aren't supposed to be at home until 9pm. It's only 3pm, and he doesn't think he's expecting anyone to swing by.

The voice of Kim Sunoo rings out, and the boy stops in his tracks when he sees that you're in Jungwon's house. "Jungwon, Riki wanted to know if you're free- oh! I see what's happening."

"Hi, (Name)." Sunoo says, a smirk on his lips. "Hi, Sunoo. Nice to see you," you reply, still giving Maeumi head pats.

"What are you doing here?" Jungwon asks. "Riki sent me to see if you were free, since I know the password to unlock your door. But, I'll just tell him that you're not available." Sunoo says, wiggling his eyebrows at Jungwon.

Sunoo's going to tell everyone in their friend group. And now everyone will think that you two are a thing.

"Have fun on your date," Sunoo whispers to Jungwon, who elbows him. "It's not a date." Jungwon whispers back.

"Sure it isn't. Bye (Name)! See you tomorrow!" Sunoo says, waving at you. You bid farewell to him too, and before he leaves, Sunoo whispers one thing to Jungwon.

"Don't fall in love."

"I won't," Jungwon replies.

Jungwon doesn't know it yet, but he is very, very wrong.

eight －i see what's happening! previous ☆ next ♡ masterlist

author's note. first written chap of the series !! my entire body hurts cuz of badminton #lovemysport

CUPID'S CONFLICT! a jungwon smau. genre: smau, crack, fluff pairing: non-idol! jungwon x non-idol! reader warnings: swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is CLOSED!

[marzipanandminutiae]

you know, the Horrible Histories "Victorian names were WEIRD!!!!" skit leaves out some important info on some of the names (assisted by Ancestry.com searches):

Lettice Berger: "Lettice" was an anglicization of the Roman name "Leticia." Berger is just a normal German surname. Yes, they had the word "lettuce," and I'm sure the similarities occurred to them. But nobody named their child "lettuce" like the vegetable.

O.K. Johnson: Probably just the kid's initials. "O.K." as a slang term was invented in 1830s Boston, but without any evidence of when little O.K. lived (they don't cite any sourced for these names, how convenient), it's impossible to tell whether it would have crossed the pond by the time he was born.

Never [they pronounce the surname Rookrook]: I found a LOT of Nevers in the UK with Indian surnames. So uh. There's that. And a lot of census records online seem to have notes written by the census-taker mislabeled as names- "never opens door" was one I noticed. Just saying. I also found multiple "NEVA Rook" census entries- which probably would have been pronounced "NEE-vah" but sounds like "Never" with a British accent if you tilt your head and squint.

Toilet: Surprisingly common modern misreading of "Violet" on 19th-century censuses with bad handwriting.

Baboon: Found one census where it's a misreading of "Barbara;" others were non-Anglo names like Baban, Babyon, Babboni, etc.

Susan Semolina-Thrower: That's just two unfortuate surnames, I'm guessing? I can't find their sources, again, but I do find a lot of records of "Semolina" as a surname in the UK during the 19th century. The poor parents had no control over that, did they?

Happy: ...yeah, it's a virtue name. And? How is that weirder than Faith, Hope, Grace, Patience, Prudence, etc?

Evil: Another census misreading- usually "Evie."

Minty Badger: "Minty" is short for Araminta/Aminta/Arminta. Still sounds like a Discworld character, but nothing would sound normal with "Badger" as a surname. Araminta Badger at least makes more sense to modern ears, though.

Freezer Breezer: Breezer was a real surname, and parents can be cruel. I don't doubt that- my dad went to school with an "Emily Memily." that being said...I did find a "Fred R. Breezer" born in 1873 in England; see above re: census misreadings. Just throwing that out there. I found it as a corruption/misspelling of "Fraser/Frasier" too.

Scary Looker: I actually found this one. It was a misreading of "Jeany" on a census- the girl's name was Jane Looker, born 1841 in Lancashire to John and Elizabeth Looker. Nice research there, team.

Farting Clack: Fasting Clack or Clark, born 1863 in London. Another lovely misreading from the census. True "Fasting Clark" is not NOT a weird name, but it's a lot less horrible than "Farting Clack" and it makes sense under the Hyper-Christian Parents category.

Princess Cheese was real, not a nickname, and not a misreading or misspelling. Princess May Cheese was born in 1896 in West Bromwich. She married one John T. Brookes in 1914- possibly eager to no longer be a Cheese?

Multiple people really have been christened Bovril, most notably one Bovril Simpson, married in West Ham in 1911.

Incredibly, Raspberry/Rasberry/Roseberry is a real given name, and Lemon a real surname. Most people named Raspberry seem to have been men.

So that's only three of their Wacky Victorian Names that are actually 100% real. Nice job, there, team. I love Ghosts, but get your collective act together!

(They did once have a skit insisting that Victorians called trousers "the southern necessity" when that's actually a phrase from the writings of famously terrible 19th-century author Amanda McKittrick Ros, whose work her contemporaries loved poking fun at. So I shouldn't be surprised)