#... if not then that's my top answer and screw all the other things
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seyaryminamoto · 6 months ago
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If you could change anything in the original ATLA storyline (besides making Sokkla happen) what would it be?
Uhhhh well with all my complaints across the years pertaining ATLA I don't think there's just one (1) singular thing I'd change.
Off the top of my head, I immediately thought I'd make Zuko's character and story more coherent :'D but then there's ALSO Iroh, who also needs to be more coherent.
I'd make the White Lotus an active faction throughout the war rather than just being Iroh's connections, initially, only to become the Avengers at the last minute. Hell... I don't even think I'd make Iroh part of the White Lotus, a group that's fighting for what's right should not readily spread its arms and embrace Fire Lord Azulon's warmongering son, much less let him be their leader :'D If anything, they can be a mystery Iroh spends the whole show trying to reveal, and we'd watch him prove himself to them in order to ever be deemed worthy of joining the group because NOW he has the right beliefs and is hoping to do right by the world. His membership there would not be a done deal from the get-go.
I'd also gladly make Ozai a more complex character, far worthier of being a final villain.
I'd give Toph an actual, challenging arc.
I'd make Katara learn from her mistakes so much more than she ever did.
I'd make sure Mai and Ty Lee actually learn to question what needs to be questioned rather than redeeming them just because they sided with Zuko one time.
I'd flesh out Suki way more too.
I'd give Aang more respect when it comes to his tragedy, and make his morals more consistent (which is part of respecting him and his culture that the OG show just... did whenever it suited it).
I'd absolutely rewrite every romantic relationship (I mean, even if Sokkla is canon in this dream scenario here, Maiko and Kataang still would be canon too, right?) so that they're nowhere near as unbalanced as they feel in the OG.
I'd hint at energybending all along rather than just keeping it as a last minute secret.
I'd most likely not kill Jet nor imply I killed him. Just don't see the need for it.
Probably would either give Hama a different approach or not have her around at all.
Combustion Man would also need a full rework or be deleted.
Zhao would also get more depth and complexity rather than just being around to make Zuko look better.
Sooooo... there are a lot of things worth changing if you ask me :'D but as far as priorities go, I think I'd definitely fix Zuko first out of all these things. I haven't ranted about his character for so many years in vain, even if Iroh were to stay the same, I'd love to see a Zuko who learns to think for himself and doesn't just rely on Iroh's guidance and on doing whatever he thinks Iroh would want him to do. :'D
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tonycries · 6 months ago
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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stephobrien · 9 months ago
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Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.
Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.
Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.
To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.
And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.
Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)
So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:
Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.
Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?
Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?
If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.
Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.
On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.
Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.
And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.
Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.
By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.
But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.
Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.
And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.
Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.
Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.
Be prepared to accept criticism.
You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.
What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.
If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.
Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.
After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.
And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.
I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.
They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.
I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.
I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.
Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.
Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.
This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.
I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.
I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.
I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.
EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:
While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.
This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.
If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.
Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.
Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.
But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.
So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:
A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.
B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.
C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren’t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.
@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.
Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.
In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.
THIS IS NOT OKAY.
I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.
Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.
Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”
It should be BASIC DECENCY.
And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.
By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.
But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.
Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.
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burntoutdaydreamer · 1 year ago
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago
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Best Thing In The World : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: a little healthy competition never hurt anyone, but when you start to let your little competition with the other wags get the better of you, lando is there to help
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Your last message had left Lando in a state of confusion, he reread your message over and over, unable to piece it all together. He scratched over his head several times, even asking Oscar if he was sure that he read it right, heart breaking as the reality began to set in. He didn’t understand, you left him with so many questions, questions that he was desperate to make sure were answered.
You knew as soon as you told Lando you were too sick to be at the paddock with him that he wouldn’t believe you. Your heart had been racing for most of the day, you’d seen a few of the other driver’s girlfriends around the paddock and to say they left you speechless was an understatement. It killed you inside that you couldn’t push aside the feeling that you needed to compare yourself, but being the one by Lando’s side only added to the pressure that weighed you down, ultimately leaving you a crumbling mess in your hotel room all by yourself.
As expected, it didn’t take long before your hotel door was being knocked on. Your eyes screwed tightly shut only to hear the door opening a few moments later, cursing yourself for giving Lando the spare key to your room.
“Babe? What’s going on?” Lando called out through the room, glancing in every room. You stood nervously in the bedroom, anticipating his presence any moment. The hotel room was eerily quiet as he moved through, leaving Lando wondering if maybe he had got the wrong end of the stick and that you really were tucked up in bed feeling sick.
However, as he entered the bedroom, he knew that his instinct was right. “Love, are you alright?” Lando whispered, kneeling down in front of you where you sat on the edge of the bed.
Your head nodded, keeping your eyes staring down at your lap. “Y-yeah, it must just be something that I ate at the restaurant last night.”
Lando’s head shook as he brought his fingertips to under your chin. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?” He asked you.
When you didn’t look, Lando tilted your chin up so that he was able to meet your eyes. “You’re going to think I’m stupid,” you huffed, having already played the conversation over a thousand times in your head. “I guess I’m just not feeling up to it.”
Lando smiled weakly, knowing you well enough to know that you weren’t sharing everything with him. “Is there a reason why you’re suddenly feeling this way?”
A heavy sigh escaped from you, unable to keep yourself composed. “I keep seeing all these amazing posts about the other girls at the paddock, they’re all so amazing, and I guess I’m just me…I’m nothing like them.”
Immediately Lando brought his hands to your waist, holding onto you tightly. “I’m so sorry you feel this way,” Lando hummed, berating himself for not noticing sooner.
Your head shook as tears threatened to spill, “I should be the one apologising, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with something like this, with someone like me.”
“I’m not dealing with anything,” Lando instantly insisted, kissing against the top of your nose. “In my eyes you are amazing, in fact, you’re better than amazing, you’re the best thing in the world.”
Lando’s voice was soothing as he trailed several kisses against your neck. His grip was tight as he felt you hiccup, trying his best to soothe you as best as he could, reassuring you constantly whenever he heard you let go of a shaky breath.
After a few moments, Lando pulled away from you. “How about I stay here tonight? It’s stupid having separate hotel rooms anyway, don’t you think?”
You nodded straight away back to him, “I’d love nothing more than that.”
“I think this is where I’m needed tonight anyway,” Lando smiled as he stood up from where he knelt, taking a seat beside you.
After intertwining your hand in with his, Lando counted down from three before throwing himself back, dragging you with him as both of you crashed onto the bed, your legs tangled in together as you made yourselves comfortable.
A conversation about the paddock could happen another time, right now Lando’s only focus was cheering you up. He understood better than most how hard people could be on themselves sometimes, but he wasn’t going to sit back and let you be hard on yourself.
“Do you want to know something?” Lando asked you, capturing your attention. “Cuddling with you has always been my favourite thing to do.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Lando gushed, hearing his loud laughter beside you. He bit down on his bottom lip as you scoffed, the smug charm of Lando’s was something that you had come to expect after so long together.
“You’re an idiot,” you joked, “but luckily for you, I happen to love idiots.”
“I know, and I love you,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “luckily for me I only fall in love with the most incredible human beings.”
Your eyes continued to study Lando for a few moments, reminding yourself of how jealous you were of him sometimes. Sure, he could doubt himself, but Lando always did a great job of pretending that he was fine. He had it all, yet just like you he struggled, and what you admired about him the most was how open he would always be with you whenever he was feeling down, something that you always tried to do with him too.
“Stop beating yourself up again,” he spoke, breaking your daydream. Lando could tell from the look on your face what you were thinking, shutting you down straight away.
You couldn’t help but smile as he sent you a knowing glance. “It’s always going to be in the back of my mind Lan, I’m never going to think I compare.”
Lando nodded, understanding where you came from. “And I’m always going to be here to remind you that you do compare, and that in my eyes, if I did compare you, then you would always easily be the number one spot on my list.”
His words brought great comfort to you, if there was ever one person who knew exactly what to say to you, it was Lando.
“What did I do to end up with someone like you?” You quizzed, turning your body so that you were facing Lando.
“You just got extremely lucky,” he teased as he turned to copy your movements.
Your eyes rolled once again as Lando left you stuttering over your words, “how am I ever supposed to compete with someone like you?”
“See, if nothing else, at least you’re the person on the grid with the best boyfriend,” he tried his best to argue, knowing from the smile on your face that his job was done.
“I can’t even argue with that.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
831 notes · View notes
yestrday · 9 months ago
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― YANDERE! GENSHIN ACADEMY AU. pt one | two | three | four | five
⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno + ayato, baizhu, mika / gn! reader
introducing! from sumeru hails teyvat's brightest minds, and it's no surprise that many of the academu's smartest are true-blood sumerians. a lesser known fact is that these are less skilled in the workings of the heart, and therefore, a bit more unstable than the average lad.
warning! yandere, obsessive & possessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, master-pet dynamics, mentions of bullying, physical wounds
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— STOIC ACADEMIC TYPE. alhaitham | الهيثم
[ “if you’re looking to get my help, i’d rather you just outright say it than dilly-dallying around.” ]
⇢ one of the geniuses in your second year, haitham is a no-nonsense type of guy that has that air of arrogance around him. he’s quite hard to approach, and he doesn’t care to socialize with any of your circles. he has, however, taken a liking to you, and will usually just drag you around whenever he feels like it.
⇢ expect forced study sessions with him in the library. he’s very keen on making sure your grades are in tip-top shape, even though you never asked him for help. it’s obvious that he takes a bit of sadistic pleasure when you ask him for his help. when you ask him on how to solve a problem, he stops whatever he’s reading and scrutinizes you with those stoic eyes, before a small and smug grin forms on his face. sometimes you’re not sure if he truly wants to help you or he just likes to hear you plead and beg.
⇢ kinda likes to see you screw up as well. seeing you excel (because he helped you, after all) is all nice and good, but he likes to see you fumble it every once in a while. sometimes you get a bit arrogant, refusing his help and insisting that you can do it by yourself, only for it to backfire in your face. when you run back to him with your begging and pleading, he puts on a show of being nonchalant about it. didn’t you say you were fine? so why bother him now, and especially in the middle of a good book?
⇢doesn’t hide the fact that he sort of treats you like a pet, with the way he drags you to and fro. his blunt everyday tone makes everyone feel like he’s looking down at them, but even more so with the way he talks to you. stay, he says when you start approaching him. sit, he tells you. whether you follow or not is up to you, and while he does love having an obedient pet, there is some fun to be found in keeping a bratty one.
⇢likes to see you rely on him. is it out of genuine care or because he sees you as a complete fool who can’t do anything on their own, time will tell, but he’s strangely insistent about you depending on him. he doesn’t make it very obvious, especially when he acts like he could give two shits about anything, but when you mention having troubles, he says things like “that is what you’re having trouble with?” without offering his help, you usually start nagging him for the answer.
⇢haitham isn’t one for praise but… he does get a kick off you praising him. not because he’s starved for it (he’s had heaps of that ever since he showed his academic prowess) but because it felt just right. he does help you a lot, doesn’t he? taking the time out of his busy day to help you with whatever silly thing you need. the least you could do is thank him for it.
[ “honestly, you ought to be more grateful with how much i’m always helping you.” ]
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– PASSIONATE TYPE. kaveh | کاوه
[ “oh yeah, uh, i guess i did win that! do… do you like it?” ]
⇢ your senior kaveh who’s been all over you ever since your first year. he’s a bit clingy with his touches, holding onto your arm while you walk and greeting you with hugs ever since the two of you got close. whenever the two of you see each other in the hallways, he immediately latches onto you and doesn’t let go. will drag you around while chatting your ear off.
⇢ often starts to show off when you’re around. he tries to be really nonchalant about it too, like casually trying to slip in his accomplishment in the middle of a conversation to make it seem like he’s not trying too hard. when you smile and compliment him, he starts to stutter and blush, losing the cool composure he tried to maintain just moments ago. the others tease him for being a senior who wants to impress his junior and he quickly denies it (“they’re just saying what they want!” he’d huff to you), but you can’t deny the red blush and the pleased smile on his face.
⇢ always trying to help other people out, even if he’s too busy. while he’ll drop everything he’s doing when you ask him a favor, he also doesn’t have the heart to say no to others. some days, he gets a bit disheveled by dismissal after helping out so many people at once. when he starts whining to you and he becomes even clingier, be understanding and let him. he’s had a rough day, after all.
⇢ everyone knows the shenanigans that occur around you in school and kaveh is no exception. so he’s made a bit paranoid every day, wondering when of your crazed suitors will snap and just kidnap you. he could just do it himself and not worry about being separated from you, but he thinks he’s above such things (true, but only without the proper motivation). to compensate for this, he spends every second with you like it’s his last.
⇢ did you just hold his hand?!? that must mean something, right?! he conveniently forgets that you’ve held hands with numerous other people in this academy, but you can’t blame the poor dude, he’s the type to overthink stuff like that. he’s gone over seemingly normal moments between you two countless times in his head, wondering if any of that meant something. at the back of his head, he knows he’s overreacting. but then he remembers when you gave him some papers and your fingers lingered for some seconds then he starts squealing in his pillow, absolutely deluded by his fantasies.
⇢ he’s not the jealous type…! really! he knows how kind and sweet you are. he knows that the praises you have for him are genuine and the way you look at him in admiration is all real. you’re not the type to fake those after all…! even so… even so, you continue to look at others with that same look, and praise them with the same praise. it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… is he not just good enough? to have your praises reserved for only him… was he just not worthy of that?!
[ “did i… did i do something wrong…? please, just talk to me, look at me!” ]
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— SASSY TYPE. tighnari | الطغنري
[ “those idiots… honestly, they could at least treat you with a little more care!” ]
⇢ straightforward and no-nonsense, tighnari is well-respected among his peers for being an academic with an honest personality. especially in a school where anything can just tip anyone off, tighnari does not care about who he has to offend to make them back off. as such, many suitors can’t just do their trickery to you whenever he’s watching, lest he call them out on the spot.
⇢ he’s very concerned about your wellbeing. he’s often warning you about the dangers of the men you surround yourself with. whether you believe him or not is up to you, but that won’t stop him from trying to prevent anything from happening to you. obviously, he can’t just say that someone’s killed someone— he doesn’t want to ruin your life like that— but he’s often cryptic, hoping that you’ll figure it out for yourself.
⇢ very naggy, though he nags like a disappointed mother rather than a caring one. you and cyno are often at the end of these rants when you two do something stupid (either together or as individuals), but it’s a sign that tighnari truly cares about you. he could care less whether haitham cut himself on one of his books, but when you do he’s immediately all over you and berating you for being stupid and careless.
⇢ becomes too smug whenever you show a preference for him. he loves feeling when you choose him over anyone else and the suitors stew in their anger when he shoots them a haughty grin. cyno often has to remind him that he’s being too much, but he knows how much tighnari delights in defeating the other harem members without even having to do anything. you chose him out of your own free will, and that says a lot more than having you forced to pick him.
⇢ being raised on botany and all its properties, tighnari’s almost an expert in all things plants and that includes their… chemistry. it’s no surprise that he’s one of the suitors who are capable of concocting their little mixtures. when using it on other competitors, he’s not one to dirty his hands. he often has cyno slipping a thing or two in their drinks (or in special cases, an overly desparate kaveh). but when it comes to tampering with your drink? well, he reserves that special privilege for himself, all for the pleasure of watching the chemicals slowly affect you.
⇢ a smart guy, who knows that the way to your heart is not intimidating you into it but instead playing the nice and concerned friend. poor you, always being chased around by these unstable men. why have them who will only hurt you, when you can come to him, someone that you can trust? even if your vision is slipping away, your body becomes heavy… you can trust him, no matter what~
[ “feeling sleepy already? dear me, your body is really fragile… and cute ♪” ]
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— GUARD DOG TYPE. cyno | κύων 
[ “if they’re bothering you again, talk to me. i’ll be the one to handle it.” ]
⇢ serious cyno who amuses you with his corny jokes delivered with a stoic expression. despite looking so mature, being with cyno often gets you two into trouble that he didn’t foresee. it has something to do with that intimidating expression and the way he’s ready to fight anyone who nears him. people mistake him for challenging them to a fight, and more often than not you’re left watching cyno beat down opponents in self-defense.
⇢ when people aren’t busy trying to fight him, cyno’s always seen patrolling the campus halls as head of the security committee. you can tell who’s been caught by him before by the way they flinch and avoid his piercing gaze. even many of his admirers are a bit terrified of him, and all they can do is just watch him walk over to you and whisper in your ear. they think you’re in trouble, but in reality, he’s telling you to meet him at the same meeting spot because he wants to show you this rare genius invocation card he just bought.
⇢ no one in his friend group takes him seriously anymore, not when he’s busy challenging all of them to a tcg fight every get-together. they tend to get roped up into his antics, and you can see how boys really will just be boys as the four of them begin to one-up each other into petty competitions. and cyno’s always been the most competitive out of them.
⇢ cyno seems to have a habit of suddenly showing up moments before one of your suitors plans to do something. they might start to sneak into your lockers to steal something when they see cyno leaning casually against the wall with a knowing glint in his eye. or when one of them spikes your drink and cyno unhesitatingly takes your glass and dump it on the floor, without breaking eye contact with the suspect. the guard dog that you don’t know about.
⇢ part of the protective stalker group within your suitors who make sure to follow you from the shadows whenever he has free time. these stalkers are often chill with each other, nodding at each other in acknowledgment whenever they bump into each other in one of their stalking escapades. he keeps a close eye on you at all times, with your security purely his concern and nothing else.
⇢ indifferent to getting his hands bloody. he’s not unreasonable— he knows that he can’t kill someone just because he’s jealous or something like that. he can’t risk doing something that will have an impact on you. but justice has to be served, and when he sees someone hurt you or become a threat to your safety… he just can’t help it. whether it’s mixing nari’s poison or simply giving them a cold, swift death, everything he does is because he loves you so.
[ “hush, there’s nothing to cry about. they’re gone, no one will hurt you. i have served you justice.” ]
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— SCHEMING TYPE. kamisato ayato | 神里綾人
[ “oho? it pains me that you’re so wary of me, even after all these years!” ]
⇢ senior ayato who always has that gentle but calculating mask on, socializing with many people but never close to any of them. when people start realizing that you might have caught his interest, they have warned you about him and whatever shady motives he might harbor. but whenever he approached you, he was so kind and generous with his offerings… not that you were fooled.
⇢ he’s always showering you with gifts whenever you’re together like he’s trying to flex his wealth. bump into him at the mall? he tells you to walk with him for a bit, but you leave with a luxury item you eyed for a few seconds. bundles you up in his scarf when you’re feeling chilly, however when you try to return it to him on the next day he just tells you to keep it so casually like the fabric doesn’t cost you your life savings.
⇢ when class isn’t keeping them both apart, thoma is always seen attending to ayato’s side. it’s not a secret that thoma can go to school because the kamisatos are funding his education, so no one really questions it. they do get a little bit suspicious whenever the two seem a little… intimate, but in the end, who really cares?
⇢ you should really heed others’ warnings about ayato, because it’s clear that he’s a dangerous fellow. he seems to know everything about everyone. once, he had threatened your bullies off with a thinly veiled threat regarding their shady pasts. you don’t know how he got hold of such rare information, but it seems that he’s one of the many people at this school with an information network under their fingertips.
⇢ while he does view you with adoration, it’s clear with how he talks to you that he doesn’t view you as his equal. with the way he talks you down sometimes like he’s talking to a pet rather than a fellow student, you sometimes feel a bit… demeaned. but when ayato tucks your hair behind your ear so tenderly, you have to second-guess your apprehensions.
⇢ the difference between you two is clear. he is the elite of the elite and you are… you. and he takes advantage of this without guilt. it starts as off remarks, about how you wouldn’t survive a day in their society, then it transforms into something bigger. before you know it, he’s criticizing your clothes, your posture, your personality… anything to nail in the fact that you. are. different. till you lose your pride and self-worth. till ayato makes sure that you won’t have the willpower to fight back once he begins his schemes.
[ “but i’m not lying, am i? you are different, and we can’t really do anything about that, can we?” ]
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— SUSPICIOUS TYPE. baizhu | 白术
[ “another trip to the nurse, i see… if i didn’t know better, i would think you were here to see me.” ]
⇢ senior baizhu is head of the health committee and is often seen helping out at the nurse’s. his kind and gentle nature makes the sterile place feel a lot more comforting and he attends to each patient without complaint. but when you come over, the nurse remarks how baizhu seems a bit more stressed whenever he frets over you. you’re not quite sure… after all, baizhu has always been so caring towards you and everyone else.
⇢ he’s sickly himself, so sometimes he has to rely on others for help. he does seem to ask you for help more so than the others, but you really shouldn’t mind. after all, he’s done so much for you! he’s prone to fainting, thankfully not that severe, but you have to catch him in your arms before he hits the floor. the way he thanks you and softly utters your name has you almost dropping him, and you swear there’s a cheeky grin on his face that’s gone a second after.
⇢ although his reputation is generally favorable, there are whispers that he and his family are involved in shady medical research. baizhu, when asked about these, will always only laugh and shake his head. ‘let them say what they want to say’, he would tell them. ‘what matters is that i’m capable of tending to them when they come to me for help.’ such thoughtful words often erase whatever doubts they have about baizhu and even make them guilty for even falsely accusing him.
⇢ but they’re right, though. they are a big pharmaceutical company, and every massive corporation has its shadows. a solo research that he’s been working on is in the area of immortality. in recent years, he’s been working on it with much more fervor now that he’s met you. back then, his goal for immortality was always directionless, only researching for the sake of curiosity. but now he has a clear goal: to spend eternity with you and for you.
⇢ he’s an expert businessman and your harem members are well aware of that. among them, he’s known to make many shady deals, especially since he’s so knowledgeable in… drugs. he makes a lot of profit from this, but another clear advantage is his time with you. though these rich students could just buy their drugs literally anywhere, no one quite provides the safety of not being caught like baizhu.
⇢ … might make those deals because more often than not, they end up with you in the nurse’s office. whether bruised from the bullying of another suitor or disoriented from some sort of poison, you rush to the nurse before things get worse for you. you’re so smart, he’d praise you as he tends to the wounds. there is a pleasure in bandaging you up, knowing full well that he could easily dig his nails into the cuts and leave you more in need of his help.
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— ANXIOUS TYPE. mika schmidt 
[ “they’re very cool but i… maybe i shouldn’t get too close…” ]
⇢ lil bro gets pushed around by the meaner people in his year and he doesn’t even question it. it’s just very easy to take advantage of him, with his eager-to-please personality and his notable ability to do almost anything exceptionally well. it takes him being adopted into the first-year harem group before the bullying dies down (mainly because most of the people there are well-known and powerful). he doesn’t quite understand how they could bond over a person (you) and was originally quite frightened at their almost fanatic worship of you.
⇢ no one would think he’s part of your harem, not with the way he desperately tries to avoid you. in fact, you could count the times you’ve talked to him on two hands. on all times he was a blushing and stuttering mess to the point that he was incoherent. xingqiu seemed to take a kick out of his embarrassment, while aether softly coaxed him into forming a full sentence in front of you. what stuck with you was how he refused to shake your hand, to which xingqiu bowled over laughing. 
⇢ when he got a little bit more comfortable with you, he was still shy albeit not much to the point that he wasn’t willing to offer you help. you’d often bump into each other while you’re on your errand, and he takes half the workload. most of the time, the two of you work in silence, with mika taking frequent glances at you. when you’re done, he says a meek ‘goodbye!’ and sprints off.
⇢ stalks you around school like a little creep, but thankfully not to the point where he follows you home. he’d peek from around a corner, watching you in the distance with wide eyes in admiration. you’re always so hardworking and excellent… it’s no wonder you have so many admirers! he was almost caught by you a few times, but thankfully you’re none the wiser. his stalking is painfully obvious to the other harem members, but they think him harmless enough that they don’t pay him any mind.
⇢ things that you need the most are always miraculously appearing in your bag, locker, table, etc. when you had complained to thoma about not bringing your lunch, later that day you’d open your locker to find a freshly made lunchbox. when you grumble to yourself about running out of correction tape, a pack with the plastic still on appears on your table. you’re perplexed, albeit grateful. after all, this isn’t the first time some creepy shit has happened to you.
⇢ he really really wishes he’d work up the courage to talk to you face to face without having to be so nervous… but he can’t help the jitters whenever you’re just in front of him! your voice has his ears ringing, your scent has him dizzy, and you’re just so, so cool that he feels so small compared to you! how could he ever talk to you like this…! maybe in the future, when mika would be more capable and dependable…
[ “a–aah… how could i talk to them! they’re too…!” ]
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ace-of-zaun · 1 month ago
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Kiss Me More. Pt. 1
silco x f!reader - 4.1k words - SFW
summary: “Whatever, all I’m saying is, I can teach you how to kiss,” Silco insists, before adding just a little too nonchalantly, “You know, if you want to.”
cw: first kiss, practice kissing, mild angst, fluff, jealous silco, first love, falling in love, friends to lovers, soft silco my beloved, young silco
-
You can always tell if Silco is home by the level of carnage that your living room is currently exuding. 
Honestly, it’s like the boy arrives home from work, stands smack-bang in the middle of the room, and shakes off all his belongings like a dog caught in the rain. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he did exactly that.
Vander, on the other hand, is at least a little bit more tidy. A little bit less chaotic. 
For example, you can tell that Vander isn’t home right now because his shoes aren’t lined up neatly next to the door (unless, of course, he’s come home barefoot which has happened before).
But, you know for a fact that Silco is home because his backpack is currently strewn across the sofa, his coat is somehow hanging off the lamp, and his shoes are leading an obvious trail through the room; one behind the other, like some abstract art of an invisible man walking. 
Oh, and also because you can hear him loudly cooking dinner in the kitchen. 
“Sil, I’m home!” you call out, toeing your shoes off and pushing them up against the wall by the front door with your feet.
“Hey! Just making us something to eat!” he shouts back.
Setting down your bag next to your shoes, you allow yourself to drop just as heavily onto the sofa, only pausing once to chuck Silco’s bag over the back of it, just so you can laugh at him when he can’t find it later.
A long day at work means you’re that kind of tired where you can’t quite tell whether it’s your muscles that are aching or your bones themselves. 
You’re completely still - head resting back, eyes glazed at the ceiling… for approximately two seconds before you realise your foot is tapping anxiously against the floor. It’s not long before your whole leg is jiggling, nervous energy building up until-
“Hey, Silco?” 
“Yeah?” he calls back, still in the kitchen. 
“How do people know how to kiss? Like how are you supposed to know what to do?” you ask, both still shouting somewhat to hear one another. 
There’s a pause. Then an incredulous-
“What?”
You’re not quite sure if Silco didn’t understand the question or whether he just didn’t hear you properly, so you ignore him until he finally pops his head around the open doorway of the kitchen to look at you.
His jet hair is mussed and a little wavy, probably from running his hand through it too much, and there’s a little streak of coal dust on his jaw. The thought of getting up and gently wiping it away for him flits through your mind but is forgotten entirely when he clears his throat, startling you back to his expectant expression. 
“I said, what do you think is the proper way to kiss someone? You know, so it feels… uh, good and stuff?”
Silco screws up his face in confusion.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” 
You huff a breath of annoyance and tiredly run a hand through your hair.
“It’s just…” you begin, trailing off as embarrassment begins to heat your cheeks. But it’s only Silco. You’ve known each other for forever, so you power through in hopes of getting the answers you want. 
“It’s just that I’ve never kissed anybody before and I don’t want to mess it up.”
You’d been asked out on your very first proper date today and out of all the things you’re nervous about, kissing is, without a doubt, at the very top of that list. 
So what if people might think you’re a late bloomer - you’ve just never gotten round to it before! You’ve been far too busy working your arse off to make sure you and the boys could keep the home you’d all worked so hard to afford, let alone keep putting food on the table.
Plus, growing up and living with two ridiculous boys of your own had put you off wanting to spend time with any more for a good number of your teenage years (seriously, do all their bedrooms smell that bad?)
But today a boy you’d met a few times in the shop you worked in had asked you out on a date.
And maybe it was because he’d looked at you in a way that no-one else ever had before (in a way that made you feel like the only girl on Runeterra), or maybe it was because you felt like it was high-time you started thinking of yourself for once, but whatever the motive, you’d said yes.
Which had promptly led you to this current dilemma: One, what if he wants to kiss me? And two, how do I kiss?
Hoping Silco had heard some tricks from some of his friends at the mine, you thought he’d at least respond with some useful advice. You’re decidedly not expecting him to gawp at you like he used to do at the fish in the Undercity’s scuffed aquarium (also known as, sneaking into the underground factories at night to see the big glass windows lining the river). 
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” 
A jerk of your head up to stare at him… 
He has?
“Wait, you’ve already had your first kiss?” you squeak, hopelessly trying to keep the wobble out of your voice.
He’s definitely never talked about having his first kiss before. Why wouldn't he tell you something like that? (And why is thinking about all of this making you feel so uneasy?)
Silco pushes off the doorway he’s leaning on and crosses into the living room, choosing to perch on the arm of the sofa next to you. He’s still holding a spatula in his hand, which you would have normally teased him for if you weren’t so caught up having a crisis over Silco’s apparent love life. 
“Yeah, when I was like, thirteen,” he answers flippantly, as if it’s common knowledge. Old news. Last week’s gossip. 
“What?”
You’re aghast. Stranded out in an ocean with no lifeboat.
There’s this weird feeling bubbling up inside of you and for some reason your brain is hissing the word jealousjealousjealous like a wretched, little goblin, but you’re not jealous, you have no reason to be jealous. 
Gods, it’s not like you and Silco even like each other, you’re best friends, always have been, always will be. 
“With who?” you demand, crossing your arms across your chest and then promptly uncrossing them when you feel ridiculous. 
“Gods, I don’t remember, it was ages ago,” he says, pure indifference just oozing from him. 
“Wow,” you exclaim flatly, your sarcasm nearly reaching slow-clapping levels at his gross attitude. “Woooow.” 
“What? I’m supposed to remember every single kiss I’ve ever had?” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. 
You think you might have pulled a kidney. Or maybe your ribs have come loose. 
There’s been more than one kiss? Too many to remember or even bother to keep count? 
You can’t help but fall silent, staring at the ground as a sick, uneasy feeling spreads through you at a rate you can’t even hope to control. 
Oblivious as ever, Silco doesn’t even notice your internal spiral. 
“Wait, why do you want to know how to kiss? Who are you planning on kissing?” he all but demands, concern creeping into his tone.
It’s matched by the frown that paints his features when you finally drag your gaze back up to his face. 
“Seven,” you tell him before mumbling shyly, more to yourself than to him. “And I don’t know for sure if we’re gonna kiss.” 
Now it’s Silco’s turn to blanch. 
“Who?”
“You know, that boy who comes into the shop sometimes,” you huff in annoyance. 
Janna, he never listens to you.
His reaction is to grimace and you’re not entirely sure why it warrants such a visceral reaction. 
“I thought you found him annoying,” he points out (rather unhelpfully, if you do say so yourself).
Okay, technically, you had said that. At first you’d found his hovering a bit stifling, especially when you were trying to work. But now that he’d asked you out, you think he can’t be all that bad. 
“Well, yeah, at first, but he’s kinda sweet when you get to know him,” you explain, unable to hold back the little smile that crosses your lips when you think about the moment he’d gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. It was probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. 
Beside you, Silco pretends to gag loudly. He’s gross. 
You’re just about to punch his leg as hard as you can in retaliation, but the exact moment you do, he reaches up to nervously push a hand through his hair. Except, he’s forgotten that he’s still holding the spatula, so instead he comically smacks himself in the face with it. 
Silco jolts backwards briefly before looking down at the utensil in his hand and you can just see the moment he remembers the food-
“Shit!”
He scrambles off the sofa and back into the kitchen, almost slipping on one of his own shoes in the process. 
“Idiot,” you mumble under your breath when he finally disappears from your line of sight. 
You cross your arms and slump back against the sofa, half in denial of the pout you know you’re sporting. That bone tiredness has been swiftly replaced with a strange, confusing feeling that you cannot for the life of you put a name to. 
Why would Silco care about who you go on a date with? If anything, you thought he’d be happy that you’re finally putting yourself out there. You know, exploring, having fun - something that isn’t just working and sleeping and yelling at Silco when he steals your tweezers. 
The sounds from the kitchen all cease in abrupt succession, silence ringing out when he finally steps back into the living room. 
His arms hang down awkwardly by his sides and he avoids eye contact with you, choosing instead to stare at the stain on the wall by the door. 
“Burnt it,” he announces sheepishly.
“Siiiiil,” you groan dramatically, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling as your arms drop heavily down against your thighs. “We can barely afford food as it is!”
“Oh, be quiet,” he hushes with a sneer. “I’ll give it to Vander when he gets back home and I’ll make us something else in a minute.”
Vander had been doing extra shifts in a pub most evenings, just to make sure you guys stayed in the green and didn’t lose the apartment or miss any unnecessary meals. Honestly, you have no idea how he does it after working all day in the mines. 
You roll your eyes at Silco but can’t find it in yourself to be truly mad. 
Instead of starting dinner again like he said he would, Silco carefully sits next to you on the sofa. You can tell he’s staring at you but you ignore him, keeping your gaze fixed on the window, eyes unfocused enough that all the neon lights blend together in a colourful swirl. 
It’s quiet for a little bit, bar the usual noise of the apartment building and Silco noisily fiddling with a clasp on his shirt, before he abruptly says out of the blue-
“You know, if you’re worried about not knowing how to kiss, you could always practise on me.”
A beat. Then you slowly tip your head sideways to look at him.
“What?”
“Well, you know what they say, practice makes perfect,” he begins, making brief eye contact before darting away like he’s been caught. “And if you want to impress this Six guy-”
“Seven."
“Whatever, all I’m saying is, I can teach you how to kiss,” Silco insists, before adding just a little too nonchalantly, “You know, if you want to.”
If you weren’t so tired, you might have laughed at him. Or smacked him up the head. 
But you must really be exhausted because you do neither of those things, instead squinting at him as the cogs turn sluggishly in your brain.
He’s not… wrong, per se. Practising would make you feel more prepared for it if it happens on your date. 
“I mean, I guess so,” you admit to him slowly. 
You shift your body to the side and really, properly consider him for the first time, trying to imagine yourself kissing Silco. 
And just like that, your stomach erupts into butterflies and you suddenly have no idea what to do with your hands. (Funny, you didn’t feel like this earlier when you thought about kissing Seven…)
To his credit, Silco allows you to consider his offer in silence as you try to figure out what you want to do.
You can’t really argue with his logic. It would be good to know what you’re doing beforehand so you can impress Seven, or at the very least avoid embarrassing yourself.
And Silco is safe. You’ve known him practically your whole life and he’s never truly let you down yet. 
The more you think about it, the more it feels like a good idea. (And it seems to pass you by that by kissing Silco as a practice for your first kiss, Silco himself will be your first kiss…)
You shift your body to face him a bit more, smiling up at him. 
“Yeah,” you say with a croak, before clearing your throat and speaking again just a little more confidently. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” he asks, searching your expression for any sign of hesitance. 
But you’re not hesitant. A little nervous, sure, but this is new, it’s normal to be nervous. 
You throw him a big smile hoping he understands. 
"Yep!" 
Silco offers you one of the softest smiles you’ve ever seen from him and it makes your chest feel all fluttery and nice. 
Then, he slides closer to you and gently takes your cheek in his hand. 
“What, l-like, right now?” you stutter, eyes nervously darting up to meet his. 
Silco freezes and his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. 
“I mean, there’s no time like the present, right?” he says, waiting for your confirmation before moving any further. 
He just caught you off-guard, that’s all. It’s not everyday you kiss your best friend as practice for when you kiss your first ever boyfriend. 
“Yeah, I guess.”
You take roughly five seconds to fully prepare yourself - yes, this is actually going to happen - before shifting yourself to face him properly. 
“Okay. Ready now?” he asks, unable to hide the little smile working its way onto his lips. 
“Yep, ready,” you confirm, smiling back up at him as your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest.
Silco leans down slowly, his hand still gently cupping your face, and your eyes close instinctively, suddenly giddy as his nose brushes your cheek.
Then, he closes the gap and presses his lips to yours.
For a second or two, you just get used to the feeling of him. How his lips are somehow dry and soft at the same time. How he tastes of peppermint gum laced faintly with cigarette smoke, even though you’ve told him repeatedly that he should stop and who the hell’s he trying to impress anyway?
You only just have the presence of mind to purse your own lips against his when he pulls back from you (and you force yourself to ignore the disappointment of that being it).
Luckily for you, that is not it. 
“Okay, not bad, now I need you to move with me,” he says, licking his lips and pushing back his hair only for it to flop back to the exact same spot.
Huh?  
“Move… with you?” you ask as if you’re in a daze. 
“Yeah, like, move your head and lips a bit more. Just follow my lead,” he explains confidently, almost indifferently. “And you can use your hands if you want.”
“What?” 
Okay, you’re baffled now. What do hands have to do with kissing?
“You could put them around my shoulders, or… or in my hair,” Silco tells you, briefly avoiding eye contact as he mumbles out the latter. 
The bashful way he says it makes you think that’s what he prefers. 
“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to take it all in. "Move my head and lips, use my hands. Got it." 
This time you're the one to move closer to him, leaning up to place your hand along his jaw.
Silco joins you halfway, meeting your lips once more with a slow, chaste peck before he dives back in for more, this time a little bit deeper. 
He tilts his head a little and oh wow, that feels even better. 
You try to heed his advice, this time actively moving your lips against his. Silco must notice the change because he kisses you even harder, pressing forward until you sway back with the motion. 
A hand snakes around the nape of your neck, pulling you back to him and you think your heart swoops in your chest as he does. That same hand travels lightly down your spine, fingertips dancing along the back of your shirt, bringing out the most delightful shiver.
Fuck, you get it now.
Your own hands trail up from his jaw and slide smoothly into his hair, until your fingers accidentally get caught on a little knot in the strands, causing a rough little tug against his scalp.
And Silco groans, travelling from the back of his throat into your lips and it makes you jump back in surprise.
But he doesn’t let you go far, one hand darting to the back of your head to keep you close.
His lips brush against yours as you both breathe heavily, neither one of you wanting to move away. 
“Do you want to stop?” he says, voice husky and low.
A half second to catch your breath before a vehement- 
“No.”
And then he’s right back at it, kissing you even harder. Even more urgently. 
Now, his hands snake into your hair, tugging gently until you gasp at the pleasurable sensation spreading through you. 
Silco takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you’re immediately overwhelmed by the heat that floods your body. 
It feels like your hands have a mind of their own because without even telling them to, they’re suddenly gripping at Silco’s shoulders, then his cheeks, and then yanking the short hairs at the back of his head. 
The noise Silco makes this time can only be described as a moan, low and throaty, and just when you think you couldn’t feel any hotter, Silco grabs your waist with both hands and pulls you towards his lap. 
You straddle one of his thighs, knees pressing into the sofa, hovering slightly above him as you continue to kiss, an ache building within you every passing moment. 
Gods, what is this feeling? You swear you’ve never felt like this before, like you could keep kissing him forever. 
But you don’t because suddenly Silco’s hand moves up the back of your shirt to land on the small of your back, and the feeling of his hot skin on yours makes you squirm in his grasp, breaking your kiss once and for all.
You lean back to stare at him, jaw slack. 
Did that really all just happen? Did you really just kiss your best friend and like it so badly that you want to do it again?
You’re both breathless, chests heaving like you’ve just run a marathon. And while your jaw may be slack, Silco’s is actually slightly agape, his eyes half-lidded as he stares at you. 
Heart racing, it takes you a few seconds to realise that you have no idea what he’s thinking right now. 
You’ve never seen him look like this before and you’re a bit scared to know what that means. It’s like he’s never seen you before. 
Of course, that’s when the panic starts to set in because, what if you’ve upset him? What if you’ve ruined everything? 
Physically unable to stand the thought, you begin to clamber up from where you’re still straddling his thigh when his hands instinctively dart out to grab your waist, keeping you in place above him. 
You look down in shock and only then does he let you go, almost as quickly as he’d latched on.
Dropping down heavily onto the sofa, you make an attempt to get your breath back, but don’t quite manage to calm your racing heart as you stare at the floor, hands curled around the edge of the cushion below you. 
Usually, round about now, Silco would say something witty, or make fun of you, but instead he’s eerily silent, avoiding eye contact like it’s the plague. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
Fuck, you can’t take it anymore. 
“Well, uh, thanks for the lesson,” you say awkwardly, shuffling off the couch and standing up. 
You need to go for a shower or maybe scream into your pillow for a bit. But Silco stops you in your tracks, grabbing your hand before you can barely take a step. 
“I don’t think you should go on your date,” he blurts out, the first thing he’s said in nearly a whole minute. 
Your head swivels to look down at him. 
“What? Why?”
Silco dares to look at you for a scant second before his eyes dart away like he’s embarrassed. He drops your hand, clasping his hands together as if your touch burned him. 
“Uh, ‘cause I need your help putting that shelf up.” 
He nods to the piece of wood currently lying up against the wall across the room, where it’s been for the last six months. 
“And someone needs to be here in case our parcel gets delivered,” he continues. You think he might be trying to look casual, but honestly, the way he keeps running his hands through his hair makes him look more insane by the second. 
You’re so distracted by it, you forget to point out that you haven’t even told him what day you were planning to go on your date. 
“Silco,” you huff, frustrated. “Vander can help you with the shelf and Mrs Oliver can take the parcel if no-one is in.”
You’ve never seen the old lady next door leave the apartment once in your entire time living here. 
“I still think you should stay in,” Silco insists. 
“You’re being ridiculous,” you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air. “Putting up a shelf and taking in a parcel doesn’t take a whole evening!”
His whole body language shifts as he changes tack. 
“Where’s he taking you anyway?” 
“I don’t know, he said it’s a surprise.”
Silco’s response is immediate. 
“That sounds really dodgy,” he exaggerates. “Maybe I should come with you just to be safe.”  
Okay, maybe that’s what this is all about. Maybe he’s just being overprotective and trying to look out for you. You can deal with that. 
“Silco, I’ll be fine, I know how to look after myself,” you try to reassure him. 
“Yeah, but I don’t like the thought of you going somewhere I don’t know with a complete stranger. It’ll be safer if I come as a chaperone, I know how to handle things,” he tries to say wisely. It comes across a little bit smug.  
“You can’t even cook dinner without burning it to a crisp,” you point out. 
“It isn’t burnt to a crisp,” he hisses. “And that was your fault anyway for distracting me.”
Alright, that’s it. 
You put your hands on the back of the sofa and lean over him slowly, Silco mirrors the action as he leans back with you, his eyes widening as his hand clutch the sides of his trousers until his knuckles turn bone white. 
Your voice drops, low and (hopefully) threatening.
“Silco. I don’t care what you say, I’m going on my date. Alone,” you say defiantly. There’s a brief pause where you realise that statement is nonsensical, so you add, “With Seven.”
His awestruck expression melts into a scowl, but you don’t wait for his rebuttal, pushing yourself off the sofa back and straightening up, ready to walk out the room. 
“Where are you going?” Silco calls, slightly breathless for some reason.
“For a shower,” you throw over your shoulder. 
“I used up all the hot water,” he says back. 
You’re far too frustrated to think of a reply so instead you just huff and stomp out of the room, leaving him to stare after you, as you wonder what the hell just happened.
535 notes · View notes
roanofarcc · 4 months ago
Text
THE ALCHEMY
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pairing. tyler owens x boone’s sister! reader
summary. the reunion of you and your high school sweetheart, years after your split, brings back all those long-lost feelings you tried to bury. (based off of taylor swift's "the alchemy")
warnings. ex-high school sweetheart tyler owens. fem!reader. reader was a pageant queen. bull rider tyler lives rent-free in my head (I need to write more bc oof...). a little bit of angst but with a happy ending!
word count. 5.3k || masterlist
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‘What if I told you I’m back?... I circled you on a map… I haven’t come around in so long,  but I’m coming back so strong.’ 
The sweet smell of rain filled your senses the second you stepped out of your car. The gray sky overhead spat little droplets onto the red dirt road, instantly causing the dirt to stick to your boots. You pulled your jacket closer to your body as the wind picked up.
“We couldn’t have met up at a gas station or something?” you shouted, cupping your hands around your mouth to draw the attention of the group huddled around a red pickup truck parked off to the side of an empty road, which was split between two freshly planted fields. 
“Oh, shit!” A wide grin broke out on your brother’s lips as he rushed towards you. He tackled you in a hug that quickly became him hooking an arm around your neck as he brought his knuckles down against the top of your head, screwing up your hair. With a huff, you shoved him off, playfully punching him in the arm as you mirrored his smile. 
“You could have at least told me we’d be meeting up in the middle of bumble-fuck,” you said. 
Boone rolled his eyes. “Everywhere around here’s bumble-fuck,” he said. “We’re waiting for a storm to come through here and the closest building is school fifteen miles north.” 
You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before it was Lily’s turn to tackle you in a hug, nearly knocking you to the ground. The rest of the Wranglers surrounded you excitedly, all talking over each other, but you had gotten good at following their chattiness from the years Boone had been a part of the internet famous storm chasing group. 
“I can’t believe Boone finally talked you into chasing with us,” Dani said. 
“He didn’t tell me you guys were chasing this weekend until I landed,” you replied, glaring slightly at your brother. “It felt too late to back out.” 
“Damn right!” Boone said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna love it; right, Ty?” 
Compared to him in the group’s livestreams, Tyler Owens stood unusually quiet and lingered back in the group that swarmed you. Since you often tuned into their streams, he didn’t look too different, but it had felt like a lifetime since you’d seen him in person. The last time you met his gaze, he had just hit his last growth spurt as high school neared the end. He wore his tattered cowboy hat nearly every day and the same old pair of boots that you used to get excited about when you saw them discarded in your mudroom. The Tyler looking at you now was grown and broad, in a new hat and boots. 
“Yeah,” Tyler answered, sending you a quick, unsure smile. 
You returned it before turning to Boone. “Great. Can you help me with something first?” He nodded and followed you back to your car. You opened the driver’s side door and pretended that you really did need your brother’s help. “Did you not tell him I was coming?” 
Boone sucked air between his teeth, his tell-tale sign that you were right, but he was going to try to lie about it. You glared at him, and he sighed. “No, not exactly. Not until this morning…” 
“Boone!” you groaned. It was one thing being in awkward proximity to your high school sweetheart, it was another when he had no idea you were coming to crash his party. You two had kept it weird but civil, considering Tyler and Boone were best friends and had been since the day they met at the county fair, but you two had grown exceptionally good at avoiding each other, up until then. 
“I’m sorry! But you already planned to come out this weekend and Mother Nature had her own plans. It’s been years, can’t you two just get along?” 
It was more complicated than ‘getting along.’ You could get along with Tyler, probably pretty easily if you had let his presence slip from your mind since you ended things with each other before you split up for college. But you still found him stupidly charming through your screen; seeing him in person was a different ball game. You never outgrew the space you had carved out in your heart for him, and it was embarrassing. 
“I’m sure we can get along just fine,” you said. “But that doesn’t make it any less weird.” For you, probably not for Tyler. He seemed to be doing rather well for himself. If you were being honest with yourself, he probably hadn’t thought about you in years, not too deeply anyway. You were just some girl he dated in high school and the sister of his best friend who never came around anymore. 
“If it feels weird, just make that weird face you do when Grandad makes a bad joke and I’ll try to buffer it out.” 
You rubbed your temples. “Fine,” you huffed, peering around the door at the group invested in their conversation. You looked at Tyler, standing with his hands on his hips and a small, genuine smile on his lips as he listened to his friends. You couldn’t help the memories the sight of him dredged up. 
‘Call the amatures and cut ‘em from the team. Ditch the clowns, get the crown. Baby, I’m the one to beat.’ 
Cotton candy was sticky on your fingers as you plucked it from the stick. You resisted the urge to wipe them off on your brand-new dress, knowing your mom would have a fit even, though it was impossible to stay clean while doing your duties strolling around the fairgrounds, greeting guests, and getting pictures taken. A sash was placed across your chest, sparkly and bright, declaring you the winner of Fair Queen, a beauty pageant you’d been dreaming about since you were a little girl in 4-H, watching the pretty girls up on stage in their gowns and cowgirl boots. 
You walked with pride, head held high to keep your crown upright and a smile stuck on your lips. Just as you finished your cotton candy, you spotted your older brother set up a picnic table. He was with another boy, the two talking excitedly to each other despite you never having seen the kid he was talking to before. He sat opposite of Boone, dressed in a dirty pair of boots and a hat that covered wild blond hair that poked out from underneath. 
You absentmindedly fixed your hair, as you had been doing all day in the summer heat, before heading towards them. The blond spotted you first, sitting up a little straighter. 
“Boone,” you called out, gaining your brother’s attention. He waved at you with a mouth full of pizza. You noticed the spread of food between the two boys. “You didn’t spend all of mom’s money, did you?” 
He winced, swallowing his bite and slowly pushing a half-eaten basket of fries toward you. “I saved you these…” You narrowed your eyes, and he threw his hands up in defense. “You’re fair royalty! I didn’t know you had to pay for food!” 
“I’m not the queen of England,” you said. 
“Here,” the blond piped up, holding up a fresh slice of pizza. You looked at him, confused and a little dazzled by his soft smile and the smear of dirt across his cheek. You knew for sure he’d never hung around your brother before because you’d remember a face like that. The boys at school and that your brother hung around weren’t nearly as cute as the blond cowboy. 
“What?” you said after a beat too long. 
“You can have it; we can’t let the royalty starve, now can we?” 
You felt heat rush to your face but played it off with a shake of your head. “No, it’s okay.” 
“Technically, I think it’s yours. Boone bought it for me. Besides, I gotta get back. My dad will have my ass if I skip out on feeding the bulls…again.” The blond all but shoved the pizza into your hands.
Boone groaned dramatically. “Aw man, I was gonna say we should try to sneak onto the rides.” 
The blond grinned, standing up and stretching his lanky limbs. He was a head or two taller than your brother, and you noticed the paper pinned to the back of his shirt. 
“You’re one of the bull riders?” you asked, an impressed tone dripping into your voice. 
The blond adjusted his hat before he tipped it in a nod. “Yes, ma’am. Tyler Owens,” he said, stretching out his hand toward you. A little too quickly, you shook his hand, matching his toothy grin. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. 
“Right back at ‘cha, your highness,” he teased before turning to Boone. “I’ll be here all week. When I’m not practicing for the rodeo next weekend, I’ll get us those wristbands for free.” 
Boone gasped. “You got a double agent carnie?” 
Tyler laughed, patting Boone on the shoulder before he started walking away. You smiled sillily down at the slice of pizza in your hand, knowing there was no way that cowboy would leave your mind any time soon. 
‘What if I told you we’re cool? That child’s play back in school, is forgiven under by rule.’ 
As terrifying as it was, you had to admit, storm chasing was incredibly thrilling. Boone had been doing it for years, but you never tagged along. You’d been taught to run away and shelter in the face of storms, but that didn’t stick for Boone like it had for you. 
Racing down the backroads in the back of Tyler’s truck, you found yourself incredibly stressed and entertained at the same time. From the front seat, your brother hollered as he live-streamed, clearly having the time of his life. 
Tyler stopped on top of a hill, throwing the truck into park before everyone rushed out to snap some pictures as the tornado raged on across the wide-open fields. The deep gray clouds were captivating, swirling around in a dangerous but beautiful display. It hurried further from where you stood, taking your anxiety along with it. You held your camera up to your face, capturing the moment in a way you’d never before. 
You laughed in disbelief, riding a kind of adrenaline high that made you begin to understand why Boone loved chasing. “That was incredible!” you said, a little breathless. 
“Did it live up to your expectations,” Tyler asked, appearing beside you. You faltered, seeing him face to face up close. He had the same smile, one that made him look freshly seventeen again. Only he was no longer the lanky kid who used to pick you flowers before every date and entertained your family game nights with zero complaints. It was a hard pill to swallow, especially standing in front of him, but you didn’t really know that Tyler Owens. The internet-famous Wrangler was worlds away from the rodeo star you used to know like the back of your hand. 
“Yeah,” you replied, voice soft in the afternoon air. He turned his gaze out over the expanse of field that started at the bottom of the hill and stretched beyond what your eyes could see, staying quiet as the rest of the Wranglers excited chatted somewhere behind you guys. You didn’t look at him either, focusing elsewhere while your mind conjured up the pretty little memories of you and Tyler from high school against your wishes. “I’m sorry Boone forgot to tell you I was coming.” 
Tyler was quiet for a moment, letting out something between a sigh and a chuckle. “I don’t think he forgot. I think he thought I’d tell him not to bring you.” 
“Would you have?” 
You felt his eyes shift onto the side of your face, and you turned your head. “No, ‘course not.” 
Relief flooded your chest. You didn’t know why it was important to you if Tyler wanted you around or not. In hindsight, you had dated years ago, back when you were kids, so it probably hardly counted as a real relationship in his head. But it was more than that to you. As silly as it sounded, you’d always hold a soft spot for Tyler. That’s why you tried to avoid him face-to-face. It made you feel weird, plucking at the abandoned teenage heartstring you once tied to him. 
‘These blokes warm the benches. We’ve been on a winning streak.  He jokes that it’s heroin, but this time with an ‘e’.’ 
The fair week raged on in a wonderful storm of non-stop chaos and action. You were there every day, dressed up all pretty with a sash and a crown, grinning from ear to ear at every little kid who tugged on the skirt of your dress to get a picture and front row of every competition. 
When you eventually got a little downtime from your queenly duties, you met up with your brother, who had resorted to hanging out at the grandstands. He didn’t technically need to be at the fair all day, every day like you did, but he was your ride. Instead of making trips back and forth, he used you as if free entry into the grounds and spent his days bouncing between the food stands and his new friend, Tyler Owens. When Tyler was busy practicing for the big rodeo on the very last night of the fair, Boone cheered him on from the bleachers. 
“How’s he lookin’ today,” you asked, taking a seat beside Boone. 
“A shoo-in for stayin on that son-of-bitch the longest, which I think is the point but to be honest I haven’t been paying that much attention. Did you know all elephant ears are half-price if you order a lemonade? It’s a steal,” he said before taking an obnoxiously large bite, letting the cinnamon sugar spill onto his lap. 
You rolled your eyes before you turned your attention to Tyler. He was standing against the fencing, listening to the man beside him talk, who you assumed was his dad. He must have felt you staring because he turned around and squinted upward at you and Boone before a grin broke out across his face and he waved you over. 
“Shit,” you hissed, smoothing out the skirt of your dress and the fabric of your sash. “Is he calling you or me down?” 
Boone wiped his mouth. “You for sure. I was just down there, and he kept asking, ‘where’s your sister?’ ‘what’s she up to today?’” he said, a slightly mocking tone in his voice. Your heart quickened in your chest, a little flutter like a butterfly wing forming inside your stomach. “I told him you were so not interested in some wannabe cowboy; you’re welcome.” 
Your eyes widened before you smacked your brother’s arm, hard. He nearly dropped his elephant year. “Shit! What the hell?” 
“Why would you tell him that?” 
Boone looked at you like you had grown two heads. “Those were literally your own words when mom asked you about any cute boys at the fair!” 
If you weren’t in public, you’d strangle him. Of course you weren’t interested in most of the boys strolling around the fair with their high and mighty attitudes, but from the little you’d been around Tyler, he didn’t seem too much like them, and he was much cuter. 
“Idiot,” you muttered before you climbed down the bleachers to where Tyler was. 
“Afternoon,” you greeted him and the older man. 
Tyler beamed. “See dad, I told you I met her. She’s even got the crown to prove it.” 
Tyler’s dad chuckled and shook his head. “And here I thought my son was making up meeting the queen herself.” He extended his hand just as Tyler had when you first met him a couple days prior. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope my son hasn’t been causing you too much trouble.” 
“No, sir. Not at all," you said.
“Good.” He checked the watch on his wrist and seemed to contemplate something. “Ty, you got an hour and a half. Buy her and yourself some dinner, but don’t be late, got it?” 
Tyler nodded, a bit too enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir!” He snatched a couple of bills from his dad’s hands before he shoved them in his pocket. His dad wandered away while Tyler practically bounced on his toes. “How does a pizza sound?” 
Between you, Tyler, and Boone, you finished off a whole pizza, comfortably seated at a picnic table. Your bother offered to buy everyone a pop, leaving you and Tyler alone. You propped your chin up on your hand and gazed at him from across the table. 
“Boone says you’re a shoo-in for winnin’ the rodeo,” you said. 
Tyler ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders. “My dad wants me to win more than anyone, I think. I don’t know if I will though.” 
“Well, I’ll be rootin’ for ‘ya,” you said. 
“Really?” He looked at you all stary-eyed.
You’d had plenty of crushes on boys before, but there was something about Tyler that settled differently in your chest. Maybe it was his tinted pink cheeks when he talked to you, or the little creases by his eyes when he smiled widely. Maybe the summer heat and crown on top of your head made you woozy with confidence and flushed with admiration. Whatever it was, all you knew was that in the very short time you’d known Tyler Owens, you wanted to keep on knowing him. 
‘Cause the sign on your heart, said it’s still reserved for me.’ 
The Wranglers and you pulled off at a little motel a couple miles off the interstate, near where a cluster of storm cells were brewing over the next couple of days. Tailgating was all a part of the storm-chasing experience, according to the Wranglers, and you were happy to join them. 
You sat on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck bed, watching with amusement as your brother shot-gunned a beer with Dani. She threw the can down first, earning a round of cheers. Dexter offered you a beer, and before you could decline, Tyler appeared beside Dextor, returning from where he had disappeared to. 
“She’s not a beer drinker,” he said. “Unless you’ve had a change of heart?” 
You were surprised he remembered. There had been countless summer bonfires where Tyler’s friend had tried to get you to drink a beer, and every time you tried it you didn’t change your mind about the taste. You’d hand it off to Tyler for him to finish. 
“No, still can’t stand it,” you replied. Dexter moved on with the cooler while Tyler hopped up beside you, leaving a fair gap. He held out a pop that he must’ve gotten from the vending machine, offering it to you. “Thanks,” you said. 
As the night stretched on, you found your attention drifting away from the Wranglers and onto the sky. It was stunningly clear, putting the stars on display. You rested back on your elbows, peering upwards. You had missed catching Tyler's curiosity until he knocked his shoulder with yours. 
“What can we see tonight,” he asked, the same way he once had when you found yourself in a similar position as teenagers. Tyler would ask you about the constellations, but he often paid more attention to you than the sky. That wasn’t the case anymore, though; his eyes were actually fixed on the dark expanse of sky overhead, glittering with stars as far as the eyes could see. 
You pointed out the ones you could see, tracing them with your finger until you had run through all of the ones you could make out. The two of you continued to watch them, listening to the Wranglers’ conversation in the background. It was unnervingly peaceful, something you hadn’t been in a long time. Even when you’d visit home, there were too many differences to make it feel fully like the home you had left when college rolled around. You knew that was the nature of growing up, things changed; they had to. But there was something about the laughter of your brother that you could almost pretend was from a room just across the hall, and the presence of Tyler beside you that made you feel seventeen again. 
It lulled you into a false sense of peace that you were okay with. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fluttered closed, head resting on your crumbled-up sweatshirt as you lay in the bed of Tyler’s truck. The smell of spring and the hum of the wind put you into a light sleep. 
It wasn’t until someone gently shook your shoulder that you woke up with a little start. It was still dark, but the parking lot had emptied of tailgaters. You rubbed your eyes, unblurring the world around you until the face of Tyler came clearly into view. 
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, a flush of embarrassment crawling up your spine. “Sorry.” 
Tyler chuckled lightly. “You can still do that, huh?” You furrowed your brows, confused. “Fall asleep anywhere.” 
“Oh,” you said, sheepishly sitting up right. “I guess so.” 
He ran a hand through his hair, a smile softly playing on his lips that you found yourself looking at for a moment too long. He caught you but didn’t drop it. Instead, he outstretched his hand and nodded his head toward the building. 
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk ‘ya to your room.” 
You didn’t think before taking his hand, some kind of old muscle memory, but the second your fingers curled around his, you felt that stupid flutter reemerge in your chest. It made you feel childish; a crush you couldn’t kill despite having outgrown it. For a second, as he helped you off the tailgate, you thought you saw the same light blush that crept across his cheeks when he shook your hand the first day you met, but you wrote it off as a trick of the dim lighting. 
When your two feet were on the ground, you both let go and you let him lead the way to your motel room. Boone had left your keys with Tyler, and he handed them off to you as you approached the door. You hesitated for a second. 
“Tyler,” you rushed out. He hung back from where you stood, leaving a stretch of space that felt like a world apart. “Thank you for letting me tag along today.” You weren’t sure what else to say, how to voice the hot creep of old feelings refilling your gut. 
He searched your face for something, before he said, “I’m glad you’re here.” That felt like a step closer, even though you two maintained the distance. 
“Me too,” you replied. “Good night.” 
“Good night.” 
‘Cheers chanted ‘cause they said, ‘“there was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league.”  Where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me.’ 
The last night of the fair blew in with a light breeze and a clear sky. You and Boone had raced to the grandstands and sat as close to the front as you could to get a good view of Tyler’s bull ride. Energy swirled across the bleachers, painting you in jovial unease. You bounced your knee and kept a steady gaze at each bull rider who attempted to win the prize. 
When Tyler’s turn came around, you weren’t sure you had ever cheered so loud for someone. He still wore his dirty pair of boots and hat that was nearly too small for his head, but he claimed they both were his good luck charms. Under the bright lights, he glowed with pure determination and pride. The entire time he was out there, you held your breath. It happened so fast. One second, they’re calling his number and the next he’s being announced as the winner. 
You stood up alongside Boone, hooting and hollering at the top of your lungs as Tyler smiled in disbelief at his luck. Through the people lining the stands, you raced down toward the fence that circled the ring. The crown nearly toppled from your head as you climbed the fence just enough to stand tall among the crowd. The excitement that filled you was on par with your own win earlier that week. 
The announcers stood in the middle of the corral, announcing the prize as you locked eyes with Tyler. He broke out in a grin when his eyes met yours, even bigger than the smile of a winner he already held. As he was supposed to stay with the announcers to claim his prize, he took off toward you instead. 
He climbed the fence on the opposite side, meeting you eye to eye a couple of feet off of the ground. You threw your arms around him, a little unsteadily. Above the cheers from the crowd, you spoke into his ear, “You did it!” 
Tyler pulled back just lightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes shined, stary and bright, chest heaving with excitement and adrenaline. For a second, he just stared at you, looking for something until he found it in the twitch of your lips and the reflective shine in your eyes. He crashed into you, kissing you quick and sweet. 
All in a quick second, somewhere over the speakers the announcers laughed, the flash of a camera went off, and Tyler pulled away before racing back to claim his prize. You stood in a daze, fuzzy-headed and lovesick. 
‘Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?’ 
You still had the photo of your and Tyler’s first kiss. You kept it in the locket he got you for your birthday. You never wore it; it never left your jewelry box. But for some reason, it had found its way in with the other jewelry you packed for your trip. How, you weren’t sure, but as you got ready for the next day, you found it. You traced your finger across the small heart, almost missing a light knock at your door. 
It wasn’t until your name was called that you snapped out of your daze and rushed to the door to find your brother. Boone greeted you with a cup of coffee before he pushed his way into your room and jumped onto the bed with a tired huff. 
“Ready for day two? Rader’s lookin’ like we’ll have some good ones today,” he said. 
Sipping your coffee, you nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 
He opened his mouth to say something else, but his hand knocked against the locket you left on your bed. He grabbed it before you could, holding it up to the light before his face filled with recognition. “Holy shit, you still have this thing.” You knew he only recognized it because you had talked about it non-stop after Tyler gave it to you. But to confirm his suspicions, he popped the locket open to reveal the little picture of you and Tyler inside. 
“I didn’t mean to pack it,” you blurted out. “I-I don’t…” You sighed heavily, plopping down next to him. Boone handed the locket back to you. 
“You know, he asks about you, a lot,” he said after a beat of quietly contemplating. “He tries to be nonchalant about it, but I think he forgets that I’ve known him forever. He’s not nearly as smooth about it as he pretends to be.” 
You fiddled with the necklace in your hands. A part of you didn’t believe your brother, even though he’d have no reason to lie. You opened your mouth to retort, brush off his words, but another knock echoed from your door. You kept the locket held in your palm as you opened it to see Tyler. 
Wide-eyed, you faltered in a greeting. Boone beat you two it, appearing from behind you with a stupid smile as he patted your shoulder. “I’ll meet you two downstairs,” he said, slipping out of the door past the two of you quickly, but shooting you a smirk before he disappeared down the stairs and towards to parking lot. 
The morning sun caught the metal locket, reflecting off of it and drawing Tyler’s attention right to the piece of jewelry. Before a greeting left his lips, he said, “You still have that?” 
“Yeah,” you replied with a sigh. “I couldn’t get rid of it after…” You two broke up in what was disguised as a mutual split but didn’t feel as much. The second you were out of Tyler’s sight after the conversation that ended it all, you bawled the whole drive home. Your momma had tried to console you, and Boone threatened to beat up his best friend, but nothing mended the split in your heart. Even a college fresh start didn’t quite rid Tyler from your mind. He had always been there, a ‘what-if’ and ‘what could have been.’ Getting rid of the locket felt like a final nail in the coffin that you couldn’t, even after all that time, make. 
He seemed touched by the sentiment, smiling softly down at the object in your hands. “I remember that old picture you used to keep in it,” he said. “The one of us at the rodeo. You know, my ma still has it on our fridge? She says it was because the only picture he had of that day, but I know she’s lying.” 
You unclipped the little latch on the side of the locket and flipped it open with your thumb to reveal the same photo that existed inside. A rush of different emotions you couldn’t quite pinpoint flashed across his face he as stared at the photo. You two had been so young, so flushed with pretty emotions. Just two kids not sure what love was but found themselves at the start of it. 
“I don’t know why I packed it,” you admitted. “I didn’t even know I’d be seein’ you until I landed, and Boone suckered me into chasing with you guys. I just…I’ve thought about this lot, an embarrassing number of times.” 
“Thought about what?” 
“Seeing you again. What’d I say to you. But, I’ll admit, actually seeing you in person again I…” You weren’t sure where the sudden rush of words found the confidence to leave your lips, but you knew they needed to get out. “I don’t know how you do it.” 
Tyler stepped closer to you, lingering in the doorway. His brows were pulled in confusion, but his eyes shined with something between his usual starriness and softness. “Do what?” 
“Just being ‘round you,” you sighed. “I feel like the girl in this picture again.” 
You half expected him to look at you with pity, gently let you down in the way only he could. Maybe you could catch an early flight back home and spend the rest of your life avoiding the boy you fell in love with as a teen who never quite left you. You’re sure Boone would understand, and he wouldn’t suggest you go with them again. It would be fine, really it would be. 
But Tyler didn’t. He reached out, brushing a thumb across your cheek before he let it rest cupping your jaw. There was a slight hesitance in his movement, giving you enough time to move away if your words hadn’t meant what he thought they did. But you stayed, and the second you smiled at him he closed the space between the two of you with a hot rush of feelings. His lips moved against yours with familiarity mixed with a newfound excitement as his hands held onto the side of your face like he was scared you’d slip away from him all over again. 
It felt like something that only happened once in a few lifetimes; almost too good to be true but standing right there.
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sturnsdarling · 2 months ago
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teenage dirtbags, part one
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a small collection of the times skater!matt and overachiever!reader realised they'd never be friends.
vibe check: flashbacks to childhood and high school, general loathing
1.2k words
A/N: i had this idea and couldn't get it out my head...i was trying to think of ways to establish the bad vibes and this was my best option.
introduction, part two , part three
love and cigs, merc
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the first day of middle school
It was just gone 8, and you were walking down the beige path towards your new school, books tucked in your arms, hair tucked behind your ears and your cream sweater tucked into your pleated plaid skirt. You looked perfect, as always, and had spent hours making sure of it. This was a new beginning for you, the start of your real academic career (you were a very intense kid) , and you were taking it very seriously, despite being only eleven years old.
Your brogues splashed in the little puddles that had formed on the concrete, the shiny leather being undisturbed by the water as it rolled off its surface. From behind you, the sound of skateboard wheels rolled against the beige floor, broken up by periodical slaps of a van shoe against the ground.
The sound got closer, and you thought nothing of it, along with thinking nothing of the giant puddle that you were absentmindedly walking closer and closer to. A boy with messy brown hair, an ACDC t-shirt on over a white long sleeve and work trousers he definitely took from his dad was fast approaching behind you, headphones in and not a care in the world.
You approached the puddle at the same time, and just as you did, the boy sped through it, splashing dirty brown puddle water all over you, and partially himself.
you screamed in shock, it was everywhere, and you were filthy.
"oh, crap, I'm so sorry" Matt said as he halted his speed, the sound of your scream pulling him from his daze as he jumped off his board and ran back towards you.
"what is wrong with you" you screamed, looking down at your now filthy outfit.
"it was an accident, I didn't me-" Matt began to speak, brows furrowed like a sad puppy.
"get away from me" you spat, shooing him away as he attempted to pat out the brown stains with the sleeve of his top.
Matts face screwed up in annoyance, he placed his board back on the floor, and was gone in a flash.
8th grade History class
"The French and American revolutions were one and the same, they ran parallel to each other and were reflections of the worlds desperation to be free from British rule" Matt said, answering the teachers question.
your brows furrowed in disagreement, "thats not right" everyone in the class turned from Matt, to you.
"and why's that, y/n" Your teacher spoke up.
"because the french revolution started in 1789, ours happened over a decade earlier, so they couldn't have been parallel" You said, your teacher grinning at you "and the french revolution wasn't about the British, it was about peasant revolt, and the abolishment of the French monarchy" your cadence was thick with pride.
Everyone in the class turned to the teacher, waiting for them to confirm who was wrong and who was right.
"very good, y/n" She nodded, continuing with her slides on world revolutions.
Matt was glaring at you over his shoulder, face riddled with irritation, you simply smiled, raising your brows for a split second before looking away. Matt rolled his eyes, and turned his attentions back to the board.
Lunch, Sophomore year of high school
You were sat just behind the resident table of skaters, not your first choice but it was the only table left where you could sit alone and read without having to sit next to anyone.
They were being idiots, as usual, throwing stuff at each other and making awful jokes. One said something about how they wish food fights were still a thing, and another agreed, picking up their mash potato and humming it at Matts head. The whole able erupted into laughter, Matt included.
He took a hand full of his spaghetti, and pulled his arm back in preparation to throw it at his friend. Just as Matt let go of the wet, red noodles, his friend ducked out the way, and Matts handful of food was launched directly at you.
It splatted on your face, covering your clothes and book in red bolognese sauce. The whole cafeteria gasped, laughs erupting from every corner as Matts face was riddled with a shocked smile, trying his best to hold back his laughter.
"Matt!" You screamed, taking your fingers and raking them down your face, pulling the pasta off.
Matt chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, "sorry, y/l/n, my bad"
You clenched your jaw, slamming your book shut, squishing the spaghetti and got to your feet.
"you are the most insufferable, idiotic, stupid, worthless boy, I have ever known" you borderline screamed, picking up your bags and storming out the cafeteria.
All his friends turned back to face him with looks of 'oh shit' spread across their faces, all holding back laughs.
Matt smiled through the sting of your words, trying to play it cool and act like he didn't want to run after you and apologise. Who cares, he hated you anyway.
In the hall, Freshman year of college
Matt was leant up against the wall, talking to a girl he barely knew about skateboarding, or something else that you really didn't care about. He was obviously flirting with her, and she was relishing in it, peppering his arm with touches and twirling her hair round her delicate fingers.
You and Matt had somehow ended up in the same college, and you despised him for it. He never even had to try, he was effortlessly good at things, being handed your dream life on a silver platter with a smug smile and a nonchalant attitude. From a distance, your distaste for the sight ahead of you would look like jealousy, it obviously wasn't, it was pure hatred, and despite your better judgement, you found yourself walking over to them.
"what're you doin' here, y/l/n" Matt said, annoyed at the sight of you.
You ignored him, placing your arm round the girls shoulder and talking directly to her.
"I wouldn't waste your time, girl, I heard he gave half the volleyball team chlamydia" You said, the lie rolling off your tongue effortlessly as you tried to hold back your smile.
The girl scoffed in disgust, looking Matt up and down as she walked away. Matt tried to defend himself, shouting out that you were lying and that he swore it wasn't true. His efforts failed and he turned to you with a clenched jaw.
You couldn't help but smile, your tongue pressed to your teeth as he glared at you.
"what the fuck is your problem" matt spat
you shrugged, "I was bored"
Matt scoffed, "you were bored, so you told the only girl who's shown interest in me in months that I have chlamydia?"
You giggled, and with another shrug, you walked away.
Matts whole face tensed, and he stuck both his middle fingers up at the back of your head. You turned back, knowing exactly what he was like and returned the favour, flashing your perfectly manicured middle finger at him with a smug smile.
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taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch
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shadesslut · 1 year ago
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𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 DAY 6
(a/n: short but sweet)
Breeding
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MINORS DNI
Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)
Content Includes: (Car sex, breeding kink)
Main Masterlist
𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
(a/n: ALSO IF YOU HAVE SENT A REQUEST, I PROMISE I WILL WRITE IT (if comfortable with prompt) BUT IVE BEEN BUSY IM SORRY)
🦇
🦇
🦇
Ethan’s hips rolled smoothly against hers. Her fingers grabbed a fistful of his curls as she pulled. The position they were in was a tad awkward. Her back was arched against the car door, her ass held up by Ethan’s hands. His knee was bent on the leather car seat, while his other leg rested on the floor. 
His mouth was wide open against the crook of her neck. His cheek slid against her skin, allowing his sweat to drip onto her, clinging to her crop top. 
“M’ getting close,” he whimpered as he screwed his eyes shut. Her breathing was staggered, and she only wrapped her leg around Ethan’s waist in response. 
The thing about Ethan, is that he loved finishing inside of her. Even if she was on the pill, he loved the idea of fucking his cum inside her sweet, tight pussy. The slightest amount of chance he could have with getting her pregnant, trapping her with him. The thought got him off. 
“I’m gonna fill you up, all the way,” he grunted, snapping his hips. “Gonna give you my babies, make sure you’re full of my cum all the way to the brim.”
She whined at his words as she clenched around him. Ethan jerked his hips once more, and he came inside of her. He moaned her name as his hips slowly moved, both of them coming down from their high. 
He slid out, and part of his cum spilled out, to which he quickly inserted his fingers as he shoved it back in. He smiled tiredly at her, and pulled her panties back up. Pulling his fingers out, he shoved them down her mouth. 
“My cum feel good inside you baby?”
She nodded. 
“You think you’ll get pregnant? From all that cum coating your pretty little insides?” 
She didn’t answer, only popped her mouth off of his fingers, now licked clean. He hummed softly, before looking up at the condensation on the window. He drew a heart and placed his palm against the window. He yanked at her hand, doing the same thing on the other side. 
“We’re gonna make the perfect little family, just keep that cum inside you baby.” Ethan smiled, kissing her swollen lips.
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mavrintarou · 7 months ago
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[3:00 PM] Miya Atsumu - A/B/O
All I can tell you all is that it's long and dirty... hope you have a wonderful smutty Friday.
Warning: Full of smutty smut... A little different from most A/B/O au
.
Atsumu returned home early from a four-week-long training camp.  
He first noticed the unfamiliar pheromone in his shared apartment with Y/n.
Immediately his ears perked, and he could hear moaning and whimpering coming from down the hall.
Sighing, Atsumu contemplated going to Osamu’s place for the night. Now that he recalled, Y/n did remind him that she was going through her rut cycle soon. Normally, they respected each other’s boundaries and spent their ruts at the specialty hotel that was designated for ruts & heats. She had asked if he would be okay if she brought her partner to spend the night at their apartment since he would be out during that time, and he was okay with it.
Before Atsumu could put his shoes back on, he heard a door swing open.
“This is fucken pathetic, screw you!”
Atsumu froze and before he could hide, a half-naked omega stalked past him before stopping to glare at him. “Your roommate is a pathetic alpha!” She shouted before slamming the door after her.
Blinking, Atsumu was shocked at what had just happened.
“She’s just mad I lost my vibe. I didn’t know you were coming home early.”
Turning his head, Atsumu sees Y/n standing only in her robe, leaning against the wall. He could see red blotches along her neck.
He took a step closer to Y/n. “You okay?”
She shrugged and smiled, “don’t worry about it.” She walked over and dropped herself on the couch.
How could he not worry? Atsumu inhaled softly before sitting beside her. He noticed the oddness he had been feeling the last couple of days and couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
He glanced over at Y/n who had her arms crossed over her chest with her eyes closed, almost like she was sleeping.
Y/n was one of the few female hybrids, a special case of an alpha and omega. Hybrids were able to choose between either gender and could breed and be bred.
The setback for most hybrids was that they have a smaller physique than an average omega and due to that, oftentimes time they were looked down on as alpha hybrids. Like both genders, hybrids go through both rut and heat phases and sometimes both could happen at the same time. Hybrids were able to release alpha and omega pheromones yet unable to detect them like betas. They often have to carry with them a pheromone neutralizer to prevent unwanted attention.
Eventually, most hybrids will adopt the more dominant gender. The high percentage of hybrids become omegas due to the challenges of being an alpha.
But Y/n had no problem attracting both alphas and omegas.
Atsumu himself was physically and sexually attracted to her until he discovered that her preference was omegas.
He would take it to his grave that he had imagined how it would be to have Y/n below him, how she would take him…
But they were friends, roommates for three years.
However, things changed two weeks ago when the two of them were casually having a beer in their living room after a long work day.
“Hey,” Atsumu started, staring at Y/n sip on her fourth beer. She was one of the few ladies he knew who enjoyed a good beer and a lot of it. “Wanna play Truth or Dare?”
He could see she was thinking about it before she smirked and answered, “sure.”
Being the gentleman he is, he allowed her to go first.
“Truth or dare, ‘Tsumu?”
He felt a sense of nervousness for some reason and decided to play it safe and chose truth.
“Why are you so uptight?”
Atsumu frowned before letting out a laugh, that was her question? “Honestly, I haven’t had sex in three months. That’s the longest I’ve ever gone without sex since losing my virginity.”
Y/n’s face distorted humorously and she tried hard not to laugh, “okay, your turn.”
“Truth or dare, Y/n?”
“Truth,” she answered.
Atsumu smirked, wondering if she was playing it safe. “Which one do you like more, being top or bottom?” This was one question he had been dying to know the answer to.
Y/n consistently projected an aura of composure and ease, effortlessly connecting with everyone she encountered. It came as no shock that alphas and omegas alike gravitated toward her; there was an undeniable allure about her that drew them in.
She wasn’t surprised at his question at all. “My answer would be top because I’ve never been a bottom before.”
His eyes bulged out in disbelief. “I don’t believe you, you have never…” Atsumu’s voice trailed off as he tried to connect the dots in his head. “But you’re a… hybrid…” his tone was filled with nothing but confusion. “Don’t you get heats?”
Y/n shook her head, gulping her beer. “No, I have never gotten through a heat before. I know, it’s odd. My doctor doesn’t know why either and just continues to tell me to monitor myself.” She shrugs her shoulders, “so, I only know how to top.” She narrows her eyes at him playfully, asking him that nearly makes him choke on his saliva. “Why? You want to do you want to show me how it feels to be a bottom?”
The fun and playful mood Atsumu was in suddenly turned him sober and serious. Was she joking? He swallowed, trying hard not to make it obvious that his cock had gotten excited and was semi-hard.
Their game of Truth or Dare came to an abrupt end before neither had a second round as the fire alarms in their apartment complex went off.
Neither spoke again about that subject and went on with their lives.
Or at least Atsumu tried to.
For days, he couldn’t get the subject out of his head, wondering and questioning how she had managed to go this long without having a heat, let alone that she had never been a bottom before! It had also bothered Atsumu about her question she asked him if he would like to show her, was she serious about it? It made Atsumu excited every time he thought about it.
Atsumu has been wanting to bring the conversation up again and suddenly had the urge to do so.
His mouth opened to speak when something hit his sense of smell, a delicate aroma. Blood began rushing down south and his mouth watered, his mind clouded with nothing but wanting to have a taste of this deliciousness that was taking over his senses.
Realization hit him as this was typically how he becomes when he is being affected by an omega’s heat pheromone.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at Y/n.
“Atsumu.”
He flinched at the way she called his name, not in a threatening way, but in a way that made him want to be nothing but possessive of her. His throat tightened as her pheromone poured more onto him.
“I… think I’m going through my first heat,” Y/n murmurs softly, opening her eyes to peer into his. They were a different color and most definitely very dilated.
He noticed her crossed arms tightening around her petite body. Realization hit him, the faint lingering smell he had detected was Y/n’s omega pheromone, something completely different from her alpha pheromone he was used to. It was no wonder he was not threatened by it because it still had a bit of her scent in it, keeping him calm.
“What?” he growled, trying to maintain his composure and sanity, he wanted to pounce on her. Atsumu stood up and distanced himself from her. “But you said you –“  
“I never had one before so I don’t know what to expect but I’m confident… enough that what I’m experiencing right now is my heat.” Y/n hunched over, her shoulders trembling.
The silence in the room was unbearable and she broke it by quietly asking, “would you – be comfortable to help me?” She bit her lower lip before asking, “I’ve – I’ve never been a bottom… show me. Show me what it's like to be a bottom, Atsumu.”
Atsumu’s eyes bulged out, “sh – show you?” He inhaled sharply as he closed his eyes to absorb her request. He paced back and forth in their living room before clarifying, “say that one more time? What are you asking me to do?” He needed a second confirmation.
“Atsumu,” Y/n called his name, it flowed like soft butter from the tip of her tongue. “I’m in heat right now and I want you to show me what it feels like to be a bottom…” she paused, “if that makes you feel uncomfortable I can go ask –“ She was suddenly tugged onto her feet and pressed against his chest. She felt his hardness press against her abdomen and her eyes widened, breath hitching.
“All you need is me,” Atsumu’s eyes suddenly become dark as he stares at her lips. “I will show you how to be a bottom, Y/n.”
.
“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/n,” Atsumu growled softly against her nipple. Three of his long and thick fingers have been thrust back and forth inside her pussy. “Am I doing a shit job that I can’t even make you moan for me?”
Y/n shook her head, her knuckles had turned white from gripping his comforters tightly. She let out a heavy breath, “no – no… it feels…”
“Feels?...”
“Fucken amazing…” she finished, opening her eyes. “I’ve… never felt this bliss before…” her back arched when Atsumu’s fingers curled and fastened.
“Nope,” Atsumu chuckled when she tried to close her legs. “Keep these beautiful legs open, wide open for me.” He shifts his large, toned body to fit in between her legs. He withdrew his fingers to stroke his cock.
Atsumu still couldn’t believe that Y/n has never had a heat before, let alone taken a cock before.
“’Tsumu,” Y/n whimpered, her fingers grazing over her wet pussy, her pussy ached to be stuffed, filled in ways she never imagined before.
Since finding out she is a hybrid at the age of 16, her gender has always been alpha-dominant. She has never experienced a heat since discovering her hybrid gender even though she was capable of adapting to both genders.
Unlike most, Y/n had no problem attracting either gender but she had preferred to be a top giver than a bottom receiver.
It wasn’t until recently, until the game of Truth or Dare with Atsumu that it had piqued her interest. She suddenly was curious about being a bottom but she did not know who she trusted enough to share that moment with. Unconsciously, she began manifesting it.
On numerous occasions, she caught herself staring at Atsumu, and it was then that she began seeing him in a different light. She considered the idea of asking him but was frequently reminded that it would alter their relationship forever.
Her request tonight was her heat speaking. During the few weeks of Atsumu being away, Y/n’s body began experiencing a change she had never felt before. Unlike the times she was going through a rut, her body was burning and throbbing at her pussy.
Y/n has never touched herself in such a way, never having to need to until now. For two nights in a row, she tossed and turned in bed until the temporary relief was her fingers dipping in between her legs and stuffing her pussy in ways she’s done to other omegas.
“Atsumu…” his name slipped from her lips unconsciously. Her eyes widened and embarrassment shamed her for calling out her friend’s name while imagining him, imagining it was his fingers stuffing her pussy.
And now three of his finger pump quickly in and out of her pussy, the mere thought of knowing it’s his fingers that is building up the pleasure is all Atsumu’s doing.
The following day, she snuck into his room and inhaled the scent in his room, filling her desire and yearning.
“Yes,” Y/n moaned, eyes rolling shut, “yes, Atsumu…”
Atsumu shifted onto his knees.  “I can’t believe you’ve never taken a cock before. I find that hard to believe,” Atsumu rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.
Y/n herself can’t believe she hasn’t either. It may be partly because she never had a heat to begin with. Y/n sat up and reached for his cock, her eyes bewitched at the size of his cock. “It’s so… big.”
She wasn’t big and she was aware of it. The first time she spent her rut with an omega, she thought it was a disaster, not knowing what to expect but the omega had expressed how good her cock felt.
An omega once told her with a wink, “it’s now how big, it’s how you use it.”
“I won’t deny that I’ve never wondered how you would look beneath me, Y/n.” Atsumu admitted, “surely you must know you’re fucken desirable, right?” He pushed the tip of his thick cock in her, groaning when her walls tightly refuse to let him in until he compel, shoving just the tip through. “Relax for me, Y/n…” he slowly pushed back and forth, pushing more of his thick long cock into her until she has lubricated his cock, taking him easier. His eyes were transfixed at his cock disappearing into her pussy until she’s taken all of him. Looking up he sees her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Reaching up he freed her swollen lower lip and smoothed it with his thumb. He pressed his thumb past her lips, “bite me instead…” His cock jerked when she clenched her teeth against his thumb. “That’s it, baby…”
Her teeth loosened and she wrapped her tongue around his thumb, sucking it.
“Fuck…” Atsumu swore before choking out a chuckle, “I’m going fuck your mouth afterward.”
Y/n freed his thumb, “promise?” her legs wrapped around his hips pressing herself upwards to him. “Hurry,” she pleaded, “fuck my pussy, ‘Tsumu…” She never thought she would hear herself say that phrase.
Atsumu didn’t need to be told twice. His body crushed her small one, sandwiching her to his bed as he hiked her legs and began thrusting into her pussy. The bed began to shake violently and the wooden bedframe creaked loudly.
Y/n’s arms encircled his neck tightly while her fingers weaved through his strands of dirty blond hair, gripping them firmly at the roots and giving it a gentle tug. Her hips rolled, meeting his powerful thrusts. She cooed and encouraged him, “yes! Yes… just like that… fuck… you’re so big, ‘Tsumu… you feel so good…”
Atsumu only hummed, his mouth busy sucking a perfect hickey against her neck. It has always made him jealous seeing other omegas mark her and now it is his turn and he is going to make sure his mark is engraved into her skin.
His hips fasten, cock repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. If it felt this wonderful already, he couldn’t imagine how it would be when he was in a rut, when his senses would be fully heightened.
“Y/n,” Atsumu groaned, sliding his tongue along her neck and to her jaw, licking along her cheek. He felt so high, in a state of bliss. Every thrust into Y/n’s pussy sent pure excitement and euphoria pulse through him. “Look at me,” he growled, and when she found his brown eyes, he leaned down and kissed her.
Their tongues tangled and eagerly danced as their mouth moved over each other hungrily.
Atsumu was finally satisfying a lingering curiosity within him, having Y/n beneath him and kissing her.
Y/n moaned his name breathlessly from his kisses, “my tummy… it feels tingly… I’m – I’m going to cum… please let me cum…”
The tightening of Y/n’s pussy and increased enhancement of her pheromone pushed Atsumu to the edge, losing the last of his control. He tightened his arms around her small body and pounded hard until the tip of his cock continue to stimulate her cervix. He badly wished he was in a rut so he could penetrate her cervix and knot her.
Breed her.
Y/n’s teeth sink into his collarbone as she comes undone, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body trembles.
Atsumu follows seconds later, filling her pussy with his hot cum.
There’s no going back, I can’t let her go now, he tells himself. He inhales her scent, feeling his cock already semi-hard once again.
.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you two in a long ass time, what have you guys been up to?” Their mutual friend, Ryuji said, gesturing to Atsumu and Y/n to take a seat in the two empty spots at the end of the table.
“Just the same stuff, training and tournaments,” Atsumu shrugged, pulling the seat for Y/n and pushing in the chair like a gentleman. “Season is wrapping up so I’ll finally get some relaxation.”
Atsumu and Y/n were oblivious to their physical intimacy, they didn’t see how their three other friend’s eyes widened as Atsumu’s body turned towards Y/n, his arm resting behind her chair and thumb rubbing circles on her upper arm. He fills her plate with food and continues updating his friends about his life.
Of course, he is keeping his relationship with Y/n out.
It has been two weeks since Y/n’s first heat, and it took almost two days for her heat to conclude and yet, neither of them has had their fill. They have fucked each other in every possible space in their apartment. Day and night, every possible moment.
They had even pulled a quickie in his car before meeting their friends.
“Be my good girl and keep my cum in you. I’ll reward you later,” Atsumu murmured breathlessly. Y/n could only nod as she squeezed her walls and slip off his cock. He assists by slipping her panties back in place before lifting her and placing her gently back in the passenger seat before slipping himself back into his pants.
Aside from Y/n’s lightly pink cheeks, he didn’t think anyone would notice their coupling.
“Are you two… seeing each other?” Their other friend Yuma carefully inquired.
Y/n was the first to calmly deny it and laugh softly, “no, why do you ask?”
The three friends, Yuma, Ryuji, and Masachi, exchange glances, silently acknowledging a shared thought but opting to not broach the subject further.
They didn’t need to.
No one would be stupid enough to even dare look her way with the way that she reeked of Atsumu’s pheromone. It unmistakably screamed she belonged to him, and him alone.
.
The minute passing was only making Atsumu anxious.
Y/n promised to be home thirty minutes ago and it was past the promised time by ten minutes.
Atsumu was aware of his behavior, the possessive behavior he harbored for Y/n. He couldn’t deny it and it only continued to manifest each passing day.
He couldn’t even blame it on his upcoming rut that only seemed to have enhanced with Y/n’s change of pheromone as of late. Atsumu couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something about her has changed and it only made him more addicted to her.
There was one thing that he knew for sure and it was that he was in love with Y/n and wanted her and only her.
.
Y/n was fully aware of Atsumu’s perilous fixation on her.
She had not meant to let their fling go on this long, or at all. It was all a mistake and now… she couldn’t undo it.
She acknowledged that he wasn’t the only one going through this change alone. Y/n too has become possessive of Atsumu. When he would come home with the scent of another omega on him, she would feel her mood turn sour.
Y/n refused to accept it but since having sex with Atsumu, she has not wanted an omega again. She came to terms that she had officially adopted the omega gender, a lot sooner than later for other hybrids. It was inevitable with the amount of sex she was having.
Studies have shown that the more dominant gender would manifest with the amount of climax and chemicals released each time. Whichever gender they possess during their highest climax constantly, their body will begin to adapt to that gender.
It was an addiction, once Y/n had a taste of being an bottom, there was no going back. She craved for Atsumu, his pheromone, his cock deep within her. She craved feeling his thick cock graze and stimulate her pussy walls. She craved being filled to the point her belly bulged.
Y/n began to be delusional. She has never wanted to be knotted so badly, she wanted Atsumu’s knot. She wanted to be bred.
Aware of her behavior and obsession with Atsumu, Y/n tried to meet other alphas… hoping any alpha would do but when she was approached by an alpha at the bar, her nose crinkled in disgust.
It was undeniable that Atsumu was all she wanted.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to be greedy, to give in and savor all the seconds she could have with Atsumu. She convinced herself that if she took as much as she could from him, she could let him go and move on with their lives.
She fueled his obsession and possessiveness, allowing him to have his way with her, and ravish her body, mind, heart, and soul to his content. After all, she not only wanted something to remember him by but the same for him, even if it was just her body. She’ll make it so that he would only think of her when he would be with future omegas.  
They were constantly having sex everywhere and at any time, morning sex, second-morning sex, before-work sex, after-work sex, shower sex, and bedtime sex. As if they were in a constant heat and rut cycle. She was not blind to Atsumu’s attempts to mark her. Every time he took her from behind, she would freeze when his teeth would graze over her scent gland, where his teeth could puncture the sacred spot that should be reserved for her mate. Her hand would cover the spot but Atsumu has now locked her wrists together above her head.
Y/n has become weak for him, submissive per se, and allowed him to do what he pleases.
But she needed to put an end to it.
Whatever they were doing was unhealthy.
.
“Why – why are you doing this?” His voice wavered, his tone laced with pain.
She waited for him to return home from his daily training and as soon as he entered through their apartment doors, the bright smile he always had faded slowly as he felt the heavy atmosphere in the room. Y/n called for him to take a seat across from her before breaking both their hearts.
“We shouldn’t have even started this in the first place, ‘Tsumu.”  Y/n said calmly, but she was anything but calm.
“Don’t call me that, if you don’t want to be with me anymore you have no right to call me that!” A tear slid down his cheek. “Only the woman I love can call me that.”
Y/n held back her tears and swallowed hard before forcing the words out again. “Atsumu, this thing between us should not have even happened in the first place.”
“Why not?” he argued, “it was like you forced me or I forced you. Everything up until now has happened because we both wanted it, and both needed it. We needed each other!”
“Look at us, we know what happens when you cross that line between friends!”
“So what, we can be lovers now?” Atsumu shot back, roughly wiping his tears away. “We can be boyfriend and girlfriend and whatever more if you want, I don’t care. I just want to be with you. I just want to love you!”
As if a veil lifted, she suddenly realizes he loves her.
Y/n blinked, the tears that filled her eyes slipping down her cheeks as she heard his confession.
“You – you do? Like in a real relationship?” Y/n clarified with a careful tone. She didn’t want to misinterpret his words.
“Fuck yes. Do you want to be in a relationship? Then let’s make it official. Do you want to get married? Let’s get married. You want me to mark you, I’ll be glad to mark you to let the whole universe know you are mine…” Atsumu took steps until he was in front of her. When did she look so fragile, so small? He wrapped an arm around her back while his other hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped down her rosy cheek. “I want whatever you want, just as long as you are by my side. Whatever title you want, you can have it all.” He rests his forehead against hers. “But if you are to ask me, I want you as mine in every possible way.”
Y/n shut her eyes tightly. “Say it again,” her voice was barely above whispering, “say you love me again.”
“I love you, Miya Y/n.” Her eyes snapped open and Atsumu grinned, “you didn’t ask but I’m going to give you my last name, so no backs.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, “tell me, Y/n… tell me you love me too.”
“I love you, Miya Atsumu. I love you.”
His life felt 99% complete, there was only that 1% left.
“Now, tell me you’re going to stay by my side for the rest of our lives?”
Y/n pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m going to stay by your side for the rest of our lives.”
.
Her fingers tremble as the third pregnancy test reveals the same thing, a positive result.
“No… how…” she muttered to herself. She dropped it into the garbage can and massaged her temple.
She began experiencing symptoms that she couldn’t avoid and excuse any longer.
Craving, tenderness, and fatigue.
Everything that was pointing to what she was afraid of was pregnancy.
But how? Atsumu has never knotted her.
“Pregnancy can happen without a knot, it is not as common but it can still happen if you are extremely sexually active.” The doctor raised a brow, questioning, “especially if you are not using protection. Are you sexually active? Having unprotected sex more than four times a week?”
Y/n’s ears burned and she was embarrassed to answer the question.
She and Atsumu did use condoms but would forget, losing themselves to the feeling of skin on skin. Y/n was weak to Atsumu’s begging to always cum inside her. It was to feed his ego of knowing she had a part of him inside her at all times.
Her silence and flushed cheeks were all the doctor needed to know. “The chance of conceiving is much higher if you and your partner are extremely active, which is the case since you said your partner has yet to knot you?”
“That is correct,” Y/n answered meekly.
“With this confirmed pregnancy, there is a high percentage of you becoming an official omega.” They explained that Y/n would no longer be a hybrid, and would no longer have any alpha traits.
The doctor placed a booklet before her titled New Mommy and What to Expect and went through it briefly.
Y/n cleared her throat before asking, “my… partner is due for his rut soon… would it be okay to be knotted while… pregnant?”
Her doctor nodded and flipped to page 8, with big and bold letters at the top: Knotting during pregnancy. “You should be fine, if anything, your body will need your partner’s semen to nourish your pregnancy.”
.
Y/n shivered feeling the heavy pheromone throughout the apartment. Now, it made sense as to why she had been sensitive to his pheromone lately, her pregnancy hormones had enhanced all her senses. “Atsumu?”
Before she could check the kitchen, strong arms enveloped her in a tight bear hug. His hot body heat penetrated through her clothing and she was swallowed wholly by his pheromone at straight physical contact.
His nose buried into her neck as he inhaled sharply, “what took you so long?”
He knew of her appointment but it did run slightly longer than she anticipated.
Before she could answer him, he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulders and carrying her to his bedroom.
Y/n blinked, hands pressed against his lower back to steady herself… and at the same time comprehend the sight in front of her.
Atsumu’s bare ass. He was completely naked.
She is dropped onto his bed and is immediately pressed against the mattress with Atsumu’s body which somehow feels larger than usual, she feels so small under his body.
His mouth is hot and heavy on hers, his fingers already pulling and ripping off her clothes just to feel her naked flesh against his.
Y/n gasped, feeling his cock pressed against her abdomen, it sent a jolt to her pussy and she instantly felt herself wet.
Atsumu straddled her small body but kept his weight off of her. The only weight he had on her was the weight of his cock and heavy sacks against her lower abdomen. His eyes are glowing gold and dilated, a trait of an alpha in a rut cycle.
“Y/n,” he groaned, rocking his cock against her bare skin, seeking any sort of physical touch. He was fighting against losing control, he didn’t want to scare or hurt her. “I don’t want to hurt you… but my rut cycle… it can – I’ve been told I’m too rough… I might hurt you…”
Y/n cupped his cheek, “you will never hurt me, ‘Tsumu…”
He nuzzled against their palm, pressing a kiss to it. “I’m happy to hear… You’re made for me... right? You can take my everything I give you, right?”
She nodded her head like an obediently, eager to please. “Yes. Yes, I am made for you. I will take everything you give me, ‘Tsumu.” She widened her legs, offering herself to him, “hurry, give me your knot.”
Her approval and request are all Atsumu needed to hear to be tipped over the edge, to allow his rut cycle to take over and please Y/n.
He flipped her over onto her tummy and lift her ass, his palm came down onto her left cheek, making her yelp before moaning. He rubs his more than ready cock along her slits before pushing it deep within her warm pussy, stretching her to accommodate his rut-size cock.
Atsumu leaned over her, his whole body wrapped around hers from behind as he pressed a light kiss below her ear, murmuring, “relax for me…”
Y/n’s buried face against his comforters helped her control her breathing as she tried to accommodate the size change of his cock, something that was march larger and thicker than usual. Atsumu was already large and thick in the first place, but his rut-size cock was on another level.
“That’s it baby,” he cooed, feeling her ease up. He wasted no time ramming his cock, groaning as he nudged her cervix opening that immediately began spreading. “I’m going to knot you, baby. Give you the knot you deserve.” He leaned back, straightening himself before scooting them to the edge of the bed. He stepped off but kept Y/n remaining at the edge of the bed with her ass still in the same position, with that, he ram his knock repeatedly.
The bed squeaked along with the clapping of their skin on skin.
Atsumu’s fingers dug deeper into Y/n’s hips, pulling her back to meet his thrusts hard and fast, his cock stimulating quickly each time the tip of his cock would touch her cervix opening.
It wasn’t as common to knot on the first time but Atsumu is positive he will knot her. Her cervix has already propped open, encouraging and readily welcoming his knot.
And he will happily oblige.
He withdrew quickly, smirking at her whimper of emptiness. Flipping her onto her back, he smiled down at her and swiftly filled her with his cock once more. “I need to see your face the first time that I knot you.”
Her eyes enlarged, knowing knotting rarely occurred on the first try, at least for her during her rut cycle days.
“Your cervix has already opened for me,” he whispered hotly, fastening his hips. “Your body is ready for me, for my knot.”
Her eyes rolled back as he confirmed it, the tip of his cock pushed past her opening and locked in place. A loud moan escapes from Y/n’s lips as she tightens and curls against him.
His sack emptied its load of cum deep, filling her womb, breeding her.
Atsumu has been impatient, wanting to impregnate her soon, wanting to see her full and round. Wanting to meet their children who will take after Y/n.
He groaned in pain and pleasure. It was true to the rumors, knotting the person you love was different in all the best way possible. The intimate bond was indescribable.
His thumb massaged deep circles into her hip, trying to distract her from the pain of his knot. “You did so well, you’re taking my knot so well…” he murmured, pressing light kisses all over her face.
Atsumu is suddenly hit with a self-awareness of being selfish. He had never even discussed it with her about children yet, here, he had knotted her. It was a 99% chance of guaranteed pregnancy.
He dropped his head beside her and muttered an apology.
“Why are you sorry?” Y/n asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
He rolled them onto his back with her above him. He avoided her eyes, “I knotted you without asking if you would be okay with… being pregnant…” His eyes closed, unable to witness the expression she might give him.
“Atsumu, look at me.”
His eyes snapped open at the tone of her voice, one he had never heard her use on him. Panic surged through him as he searched her eyes. His eyes suddenly fell on her tits, noticing they looked slightly bigger than he remembered.
“My eyes, Atsumu, look at me.”
With flushed cheeks, he reverted his gaze to hers and swallowed. She shifted over his cock, his knot already begun to deflate.
“I had wanted to announce this much differently but… there’s no better time to announce it than now,” she giggled and reached for his hands and pressed them against her belly. “You see, I’m already pregnant.”
Atsumu’s world froze as he processed her last sentence. “Come – come again?”
Leaning down, she pressed her lips to his, “I’m already pregnant, Atsumu. We’re expecting.” Her eyes widened as she squealed, pressing her hands against his strong muscles. “Atsumu!” she shrieked. Atsumu’s cock that was still inside her had instantly become erect once again.
He groaned and pulled her down flushed against him. “My cock is just as excited…” That meant he would get to have all the raw sex, knowing his duty now is to supply her body with all his cum. Rocking his hips he slowly thrusts into her, ignoring how each time he withdrew, his cum would leak.
Y/n pushed against his chest until she settled on her elbows, trapping his head in between them. Her face hovers over his, “the doctor says my gender has officially changed, I’m an omega now. So, no more rut-cycles for me.”
“Good, you’re my omega now,” Atsumu thrust upward, his hand came around the back of her head and pressed her lips against his, “only mine.”
. . .
E/n: :)
>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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lovebugism · 11 months ago
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SAYING UGLY THINGS ON CHRISTMAS EVE WITH STEBE PLEASEEEEEEE
let's just pretend it's still christmas ok? hope you like it angel! — steve gets cruel when he's anxious, and with his parents coming to town, he's practically a timebomb (ditzy!fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort tw for toxic parents, 2.1k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
You were only trying to help. 
Really, you were. 
Steve’s been stressing himself sick about his parents coming over, and you’ve been following him around with your heart in your throat, trying to help him before he totally implodes.
He’s always a ticking time bomb when his parents are in town. He doesn’t know how to be anything else when it comes to them. He doesn’t know how to be anything other than perfect because he’s terrified of his mom’s backhanded compliments and his dad’s sneering replies. 
He always turns into his teenage self when he’s scared — and there’s nothing more terrifying than being a teenager again.
You know all this, so you try your best to be supportive when he gets in moods like these. When he’s on edge and fussing over every little thing. You help him dust the top of the fridge and organize the spice cabinet and wipe down all the windows — even though you know his parents won’t notice, or otherwise care, about any of it.
And then, when you finally get the buzzing ball of anxiety to cuddle up with you on the couch, you manage to screw everything up all over again.
His head is on your chest, wild hair still drying from his shower. You hear him sniff once, then twice. “What’s that smell?” he wonders, not entirely apprehensive ‘cause the TV’s got most of his attention.
“What smell?” you ask, more distracted than he is. 
His weight on you is a comforting one. You pet him like a cat accordingly — one palm rubbing up and down the length of his back and the other curling in his hair. With your nose among the chestnut strands, you don’t smell anything other than his floral shampoo.
“It smells like something’s burning.”
You pull back from him and sniff hard once. It smells a bit smoky, like cooking something over a campfire. Because something is burning. Your heart plummets to your stomach at the realization. 
“Oh…” you hum under your breath, blood running ice-cold.
Steve only tenses up because you do. Your warm hands on his body go suddenly rigid. His scruffy chin rubs against the chest of your sweater when he turns to look at you. His honey eyes twinkle with confusion and concern. “Oh, what?”
“I think that might be the turkey…” you answer in a tiny voice because you know what’s coming.
“The what?”
“I put it in while you were in the shower, ‘cause you were so worried it wouldn’t get done in time—”
“Shit, babe!” he blurts and pushes himself off the couch. He rushes towards the kitchen without another look your way. You follow behind him like a puppy and hopelessly try to explain yourself. 
“—And then you wanted to cuddle after, so I laid down and totally forgot about it!”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault?” he scoffs and swings the door of the stove down. He flinches at the billowing gray smoke. He rises again and rummages through an adjacent drawer, in search of oven mitts.
Your face swirls with confusion. “No!”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I forgot!”
“That’s not an excuse, babe!” He grimaces as he reaches into the hot oven. The tray clatters to the stove with a smoking turkey on top. It’s not totally burnt, but it’s hard as a rock and charred all over. Neither of you are chefs, but you could probably guess it’s less than edible. 
“Shit…” Steve huffs under his breath. His hands fall to his waist and he cocks a hip to the side, blinking at the molten turkey before him because he’s at a loss for what to do now.
You stand just behind him, cowering as you wring your hands together. You feel small, like a child moments away from getting scolded. “I’m sorry, Steve,” you murmur, voice wavering. “I just wanted to help—”
He laughs loud. A bitter scoff, at most. “Well, you did a great job of that, didn’t you?” he says with a sour smile on his plush pink lips.
Tears burn the backs of your eyes. You decide to blame it on the lingering smoke. 
“I said I was sorry,” you insist in a tiny voice, trying your best to stand up for yourself. You fucked up. Both of you know it. Rubbing salt in the wound doesn’t help anything.
“That doesn’t fix it, baby!” he argues, hands gesticulating wildly when he turns to you. His chiseled features are sharp with anger, but you decide to count your blessings ‘cause he’s still calling you baby. He only uses your real name when he’s really upset.
“I’m gonna have to go all the way to the store and make it all over again!”
“I’ll pay for it, Stevie, it’s okay—”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?”
“My parents are coming over tonight! And if everything’s not perfect, I will never hear the end of it,” he agonizes, voice fragile and close to breaking. His honey eyes go glassy when the red emotion slowly turns blue. “About how I can’t make it on my own, how I moved out too early— how I never should’ve moved in with you.”
His words sting a little bit, in the most literal sense. The very center of your chest starts to ache, like he’s shoved a red-hot knife into your sternum. 
You try to shrug it off as best you can. “Well, who cares what your parents say?”
“I do! I have to, ‘cause I’m the one that’ll have to hear about it every goddamn day!”
His misplaced anger begins to build, like the looming shadow of a boogeyman. The weight of it starts to suffocate you. At a loss of how to make any of it better (because you’ve got a record of doing the exact opposite) you try to bring your high-strung boy down again.
“It’s just a turkey, Steve. We can make another.”
You prepare yourself for an argument, but Steve only huffs — so deep it makes his chest rise and fall. His head tips back as he rubs two wide palms over his face, down to his chin and back up again. He swipes his fingers through the still-drying strands of his unstyled hair and doesn’t say a single word. 
His teeth are clenched tight. You can tell by the sudden sharpness of his jaw and the way his temples are slightly shifted. His eyes are still shut as he breathes in deep, rhythmic patterns. You can almost hear him counting to ten inside his head in attempts to calm back down again.
Steve is painfully self-aware of how hotheaded he gets when he’s anxious. Every little thing feels like the end of the world when he’s cranked up to one hundred. Problem is, he only realizes how cruel he’s being after he’s hurt someone with it.
That someone in question is you now. The sweeter-than-sugar you, the brighter-than-sunshine you, the well-meaning-but-sometimes-totally-careless you. 
And Steve, on the other hand, is utterly troubled. He’s harsh, and he’s hopeless, and he loves you so much he’s not totally sure what to do with it all. Sometimes it scratches him like barbs. Maybe that’s why he confuses love and anger so often.
He thinks of his parents — how they were supposed to love him, how maybe they do, how they have a terrible way of showing it, and how he isn’t at all deserving of the way they treat him — and something inside him seethes. It burns somewhere deep within his ribcage and squirms like a feral animal trying to break free.
He feels trapped and he turns violent, like some kind of hurt dog. ‘Cause if he can’t be loved, then he might as well be feared. And sometimes he bites you, the warmhearted stranger willing to love something that doesn’t know how to love itself. And maybe that’s why he snaps at you when he’s so high-strung. 
You love him the most, out of everybody in the whole entire world, and no one could understand all this quite like you do.
“You’re right,” he sighs when he comes down to earth again, arms falling to his sides when his shoulders are no longer tense. 
The shades of red give way to something more golden when he looks at you. It makes his heart twist because you’re still looking at him the same way you were ten minutes ago — like you’re looking at the rest of your life in the flesh.
One more breath, and the worry slips away.
“Yeah, you’re right— it’s just a turkey— everything’s fine.”
You want to comfort him. Your wringing hands ache with the longing to hold him like you were before all this, with his cheek to your chest so your heartbeat can keep him grounded. You’re just not sure if he wants that yet.
So you linger in place and try not to implode with your yearning.
“I can get a storebought one before they come over if you want,” you offer meekly, peering at him beneath your lashes. ���I don’t think they’ll know the difference if we just lie and say we made it.”
He laughs again. One snorted breath, but much more genuine this time. A grin blossoms like a pretty flower on his rose-petaled mouth. It’s impossible not to smile back at him.
“Or we can just, like, not say anything, and watch my parents pretend to like it,” he jokes.
“That’s evil,” you say, hiding your giggle behind your palm. “But then we’d probably have to eat it, too— to make it believable and everything, you know? And I don’t think I can put that in my mouth without gagging.” You snort a laugh at yourself, then grow strangely serious as you mumble, “That’s what she said.”
Steve laughs, loud and boyish. It paints the kitchen golden and makes your chest feel all sparkly. “C’mere,” he hums with a grin, throwing his arms out for you. 
You gravitate towards him instantly, like he’s the sun and you’ve just suffered a terribly long winter. You hug him tight accordingly — suffocating, warm, and tender. He holds you back the same. 
His arms curl around your back, wide palms spreading along the length of it. He noses at your hair and presses a gentle kiss there. “Sorry for yelling,” he apologizes, mostly muffled from where he’s holding you so intently. “You forgot. It’s okay. I overreacted.”
It’s still hard for him to apologize sometimes. Even when he’s in the wrong. Especially when he’s in the wrong. He grew up with parents who fought and then acted like nothing happened the next day. There was never any closure. Just bottled up feelings.
It feels good to be wrong — to acknowledge it and to still be loved after.
“I really was trying to help,” you mutter, burying the words into his chest.
Steve nods against you. “I know.”
“I didn’t mean to make it worse—”
“You didn’t make it worse, don’t say that,” Steve interjects before the words can properly leave your mouth. He squeezes you tighter, in hopes it’ll make his words stick more. “You know I’d stress myself to death if you weren’t here.”
“Yeah. And if your parents came home to a corpse, that’d be really morbid,” you murmur gently.
Steve chuckles when he pulls away from you. He unwraps his arms from around you, just to hold your face in his hands. His palms are warm and softly calloused against your cheeks. He swipes his thumbs over the warm apple of them.
“It would be,” he concurs with a nod and a big, dumb grin. His honey eyes sparkle as they melt for you. “I’ll tell them that when they come over— that you singlehandedly saved their son. They’ll have to love you, then.”
He says it like it’s a joke, but it isn’t really. It’s true in a lot of ways. Way more than you know.
“Think they’ll still like me even if you don’t say all that?” you wonder meekly and with your nose scruched, peering up at him with a hopeful gaze.
“Oh. Yeah. Totally,” Steve scoffs without thinking twice. He shrugs like it’s obvious with his face twisted like he’s confused why you’d even ask. “They’ll fall in love with you the second they see you.”
“Well, that’s just dramatic,” you mumble, laughing under your breath. 
You’re not nearly as confident as he is because you have no idea you’re made of flower petals, sunsets, and winter skies — all things delicate, tender, and impossibly loveable.
“I’m pretty sure it’s impossible not to be in love with you,” Steve insists, still cradling your face in his palms. It’s easier than saying that he loves you so much that he’d follow you anywhere — or that the rest of the world could fall apart, and he wouldn’t care as long as you were standing with him. 
“I think you’re biased,” you tease with a quiet smile.
“I know from firsthand experience, babe,” he argues with a rosy smile. “I’m pretty sure I’m an expert on the matter, actually.”
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love-anddeepression · 1 year ago
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STOP I LOVE YOUR PLATONIC!MIGUEL FICS <333
would you be okay with writing smth where teen!reader makes him something?? like maybe reader loves making things out of paper (like paper flowers, butterflies, tiny stars, etc.) so they decided fo make smth for miguel?
and maybe reader is nervous he won't like it?? :(
I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS<333
Origami and Suit Malfunctions- Miguel O' Hara x teen!spider!reader
See, the thing with being a part time employee of the spider society meant that you had a lot of free time compared to other spiders. Normally anyone would go back to their own universe, but yours was sadly destroyed.
Sad. Anyways, it meant that you had a lot of free time. Free time to annoy Miguel, to conspire with Lyla, to practice your techniques..... and to hone your previously horrendous origami skills.
Like, no joke, you had absolutely no talent when it come to folding paper into intricate shapes. But hey, bored and borderline insanity works wonders for the brain.
So, slowly but surely, you taught yourself to make paper stars and flowers and boats. But you wanted to make something for Miguel. Why?
Who knows? Like I said, boredom does things to the brain.
Miguel wasn't exactly an open book and he'd probably die of a heart attack if you gave him flowers. You didn't have time to make hundreds of little paper stars so that was ruled out-
"What're you thinking about?" the older man's raspy voice reaches your ears.
"How to get your suit to malfunction." you quip back.
"Why must you torture me so?" he replies in a monotone voice as he sits on his seat, opposite you.
"I'm your employee, it's my job."
"Your job is to be a pain in the ass?" he raises an eyebrow.
"Precisely." you stick your tongue out and he rolls his eyes.
After a few seconds, you clear your throat, "Hey, uh, what's your favorite sport?
He's silent for a while and you can see his eyes gloss over, his reply is shaky, "Soccer."
You nod with a thumbs up, "Thank you Bossman Bosserson."
"You call me that again, I'll throw Lyla at you." he threatens as you go to leave the office.
"Jokes on you, I'd love that!" you shout back you walk out.
-----
Finally, he thinks, Finally this mission is over. Now he can go have a hot shower and a good meal and some of the amazing chai you make and he'll be in a somewhat good mood.
When he enters his office, he stunned at the silence.
Normally he can hear the sound of your feet tapping against the floor or your humming and the the fact that he can hear nothing is unnerving.
"Kid?" he calls out, Answer me.
He swings to the top of the platform, and you're not where you normally are. You're not sitting there, zoned out with your foot tapping incessantly like a little child. You're not where you're supposed to be.
"Miguel, your heart is racing, you okay?" Lyla asks him.
"Where's my kid?" he asks her.
"Oh baby Mig's hanging out with Hobie!" she says cheerfully.
"What?" he all but growls.
"Hey! Chill! She's fine! In fact, " the AI smirks and nods towards his desk, "She left something for you."
He turns and his heart skips a beat.
There's a little paper soccer ball on his desk.
It's tiny in his palm, but it has your initials and a post-it stuck on top.
"You said you liked soccer, so this is for you :D. I would never try to screw with your suit, don't worry ;)"
The ink smudges as a tear drops onto where you've signed the post it.
"God, this spider, I swear." he grumbles and wipes his eyes.
"This spider...what?" he jumps and turns at the sound of your voice. You're standing behind him with your hands behind your back and a sheepish smile on your face.
"This spider is my kid." he pats your cheek softly, "Thank you, this means a lot."
You nod with a smile, "You're welcome."
He narrows his eyes at you, "What have you been up to? Why are you being so nice?"
You slowly back away, "Pfft, what are you talking about? I've done nothing wrong"
A hologram pops up and Miguel watches as the T-Rex bellows at Pavitr's retreating form, and his head whips to you.
"Bye! Love you!" you shriek and jump off the platform, disappearing as he tries to follow you.
With a start he realizes what you just said.
"I hate that kid." he groans and then notices that he's grinning like an idiot.
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kekaki-cupcakes · 11 months ago
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Hi could you please write one where reader gets assigned as Leo's tutor cuz he's failing math so they go to his house for her to teach him math but they just end up making out instead (like, HEATED making out, like, very intensely)
I'm sorry but the Bad Boy Supreme is not failing his maths classes. So I changed it to English :] enjoy the 2.6k of golden hour! &lt;3
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Studying no longer means student dying---Leo Valdez x Tutor!reader [making out. a lot]
»»————- ★ ————-««
You sipped your apple juice and set the cup down, watching Leo continue to rest his forehead on the textbooks spread out in front of you on the cold concrete floor that you were sprawled across to fight the summer heat. “Are you just gonna go to sleep, or?”
“Why,” he said with a voice that was definitely smirking. It made your stomach feel funny. “You tryna get into my-”
“No, I’m trying to get into your mum’s wallet, actually,” you shot back, and finished your drink, the ice clinking around the bottom of the glass. You knew you’d won the argument and just waited for Leo to remember that he actually needed to pay attention if he wanted to not fail his class instead of bugging him. 
The flock of birds in the sky around your balcony both squawked and swooped at each other, acting a lot like you both this late afternoon as Leo tried to put off studying for as long as he could and you made a new playlist as he groaned and flopped about on the pillows you’d brought in from the couch. 
You were glad you weren’t the one having to concentrate because you didn’t think you’d be able to if Leo insisted on sitting there in the light of golden hour.
“All you have to do is read this one act, and then answer a few of the questions your teacher set. Then you’re done, okay?” You said a few minutes later when Leo hadn’t moved. “It’ll take twenty minutes at most. Besides, you’re a genius.”
Leo sat up with eyes squinted against the bright and then glared at the dog eared energy drink stained paperback sitting on the piles of worksheets and your laptops. 
You glanced at the streaks beneath his eyes and then down to his hands. He had very pretty hands, only his finger-nails had been bitten down til the skin around them was red and torn. You wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but you just tried for a comforting smile, “you really don’t want to do this, do you?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t…” Leo said, staring out at the powerlines and tops of trees in front of him. He grinned and waved a hand, “anyways, I’ve got a much better id-”
“If this is another sex joke I’m pushing you off the balcony,” you said bluntly, and then let your tone soften. “Don’t just change the subject, because you can’t change your subjects. You have to do this.”
“I know!” Leo burst, his voice breaking, and then pulled his knees to his chest and screwed up his eyes, arms around his legs. “I- I’m sorry. That was loud.”
You gave him a moment to slow down his breathing and rub his face tiredly before you spoke. “If you can tell me, why do you think you can’t read?”
“I can do it, like, I’m not dumb.” he said defensively, and turned away a little, his chin on knee. “But it’s so hard to just start reading when I know that it’ll take me ages and give me a headache and I won’t get what they’re saying anyway. It’s stupid-”
You reached out and grabbed his hand at that last part, watching him whip around with a red face. “You’re not dumb, or stupid. And, Leo, not everyone’s good at everything. You’re just so math-y that you need a weakness. And it’s not your fault your brain is doing that self preservation thing, it knows that you’ll hate what you’re about to do, so it’s trying to protect you.”
Leo sniffled and nodded quickly, his little grin hidden by his arm as he hunched over. You squeezed his hand. “Don’t be mean to your brain when it’s just trying to look after you.”
“Okay… okay.” he said, and sat up, face red while he grinned harder. The sun glowed behind him like a halo and made his dark curls light up. “...Thanks.”
“All good,” you said, pretending not to notice how he didn’t stop clutching your hand. It made your chest light so you smiled at him. “Now, how about I read one character and you read the other?” 
»»————- ★ ————-««
“I brought Starbucks!”
You looked up from your laptop and pulled your headphones out of your ears, the white cords tangling round your fingers as you stuffed them into your pocket. “Hey Valdez.”
“Hey yourself,” Leo said, doing that thing with his face where he tried not to smile. It was endearing, but his smile itself was just as cute. He put the drinks down on the ground next to you and collapsed onto the cushion he’d claimed, digging through his bulky backpack full of robotics club things and pulled out a few pieces of paper stapled together. He was waving it far too happily for you to read anything so you waited for him to burst. “I got a C!”
“No way,” you breathed, and then leapt up and grabbed the paper. It was his essay response you’d helped him study for last week. He got a C. “No way! Dude, that’s amazing!”
“Who knew I could be so good at English,” he smirked, hands in the pockets of his green army jacket. Then he let out a little yelp when you pulled him into a tight hug that smelt like machinery grease and incense and his laundry detergent. 
You sat back down and let him pull out his things a minute later, sipping the drink he’d brought over once your fridge had started to complain about its empty shelves. You couldn’t help that snacks were just great for studying. And the chocolate wafers seemed to motivate Leo greatly. 
“I thought your English teacher hated you,” you said, not really knowing how that situation had gone down. You didn’t know any of his teachers really, except the principal that had contacted you first, after you’d done tutoring for a few of her other students. 
You went to the school a few blocks from Leo’s, but you’d gone to primary school together and only lived a street apart. Teachers preferred tutors from other schools, because then they knew that their students weren’t just copying each-others work. It wasn’t a very full proof plan, but you hadn’t complained when Leo had shown up with a bag over his shoulder and equally as large ones under his eyes.
It’d been a semester and they were still there, but when he grinned at you, it wasn’t fake. 
He waved his hand away, “nah, she got fired cause she started selling weed to the year twelves before their exams or something, I dunno. I got a new one, Mr Blofis, he’s kinda weird, but he’s nice. And he brings swords in sometimes.”
“Why didn’t we think of that before?” you scoffed sarcastically, moving your books away as Leo dumped a binder as thick as the dictionary in front of you both. “I should’ve brought weapons to help you concentrate.” 
“Shuddup,” Leo muttered, picking up his drink that he probably shouldn’t have considering how much caffeine was in there, but he started sculling it anyway, and handed over the new book his class was studying. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
Leo glared at you.
It wasn’t a look you were used to, so you lowered your laptop screen and raised your eyebrows. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He fumed in the doorway leading to the balcony you’d spent endless hours on together, his shoulders bunched up and his bulky backpack slipping from his grip. Then he stormed forwards and held out a sheet of paper in your face, “I found this, today.” 
“Huh?” You asked, sitting up and taking the form from him, assuming he’d failed an assignment, but then he’d be mad at himself, not you. You’d hug him and he’d complain about teachers for a little bit then you’d go inside and play Mario Kart and eat chocolate wafers that would get stuck in his teeth. 
Your eyes widened as you scanned the document. “...Right.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Leo snapped, “I’ve been wasting your afternoons for ages when my tutoring was over months ago!”
You looked down at your socks and wrung your hands together while you tried to think of what to say. It was true, though. Leo’s mum had stopped paying and the school had stopped sending emails, but apparently no one had told Leo that. Including you. He stood above you, shaking with anger. 
Leo screwed his face up, “I’m not a charity case, I don’t need you to lie to me about-”
“You were never a charity case, Leo,” you interrupted before he went on a misplaced tangent as he tended to do. Then you rolled your eyes kindly. “And you never wasted my afternoons.” 
“But-”
“It was selfish,” you said bluntly, and tried for a smile. “I just really like you.”
Leo’s shoulders sank, and he blinked stupidly. “Huh?”
“I pretended you had to come over longer than you needed to so I could keep hanging out with you, but I get that I was just forcing you to do schoolwork, it was mean.” You understood that he was going to leave now, he had no fake reasons to stay and lay his legs over your lap and make stupid jokes until dinner time. 
At least he’d know he was never a charity case. “You’re getting C’s and B’s in all of you essays now, and you’ve got that grammar checker too, so the school ended the contract.”
He didn’t say anything. You sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“You really like me?”
 “That’s what you got from that?” You raised an eyebrow. Then you patted the cushion next to you and Leo plopped onto it immediately, eyes wide. Then you squinted at him. “What were you even upset about? At the end of the day, you were getting free tutoring anyway.”
Leo shrugged, “I’m sure there was a reason.”
“You’ve forgotten, haven't you.”
“But you like me?” 
“You get very fixated, don’t you?” You smiled, and turned to afternoon sun fading over the powerlines and birds flitting around. Then you opened your arm over his shoulder and hugged him. “Course I like you, Valdez. Even if you eat all my food.” 
“Not my fault you’ve got good food.”
He was incredibly close. It made you face heat up because his hair was tickling your shoulder and his fingers tapped randomly on the space between you. Maybe it’d been selfish to not tell him, but god, it was sort of worth getting to see him a few times during the week. 
Leo was just so pretty. 
He glanced at you, “what?”
“Nothing,” you answered quickly, looking away from the little spatter of freckles across his nose and the warmth of his eyes. 
Then he poked your side with a curious grin, “what?”
“Nothing!” you shot back, wiggling away from his nimble fingers that tried to tickle you as he laughed. You kicked at his legs gently to scramble back through the pillows, laughing as you did so. “Hey!”
Leo slipped and made an odd yelping sound, then he managed to crash into you. 
You rubbed your face, chuckling, at his clumsiness. You sat up. Leo stared up at you with a red face, his shaky arms holding himself up on either side of you. He gulped, eyes moving between yours quickly. 
It was at this point that you both should’ve pulled away and laughed, going back to finding snacks and laughing over nothing, but then that window passed and Leo was turner redder by the second. His eyes moved away from your eyes slowly, and you reached to slide your fingers next to his slowly.
Leo’s chest rose and fell quickly. “I, uh… I really like you too.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s-”
“Yes!” 
You paused for a moment as his eyes crinkled and he grinned, ducking his head. Then you lifted his chin up a little bit and you watched his pupils visibly expand. 
“God, you’re so-” You cut yourself off, using his soft cracked lips to do so. The first thing you registered was Leo’s hands moving closer to you instantly and the way your eyes fluttered shut without warning. 
You pressed your lips to his harder and pulled back, breathless. He blinked up at you, eyes wide, and you reached out to pull him closer again, your fingers sliding along his jaw and holding his face. He scooted closer, kneeling between your legs and clutching the belt loops of your jeans while you pressed kiss after kiss to his lips.
He tilted his head and you gave him a second before you opened your mouth against his, realizing that you really were kissing the boy you’d been daydreaming about for months. Holy shit. It was better than you’d imagined, the way his breath fanned out over you when he kissed your open mouth back, tasting like strawberry gum and softness. 
When you took another breath, stealing a glance at Leo’s puffy lips and red face, but he pulled you back into the embrace, your shirt balled up in his fist. 
Teeth clashed together. You jerked back at the awful feeling and began to laugh, wiping at your mouth. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god,” Leo choked, blinking rapidly. He looked around and a grin spread across his face. He was panting. “I’d be getting A’s if you kissed me instead of yelled, y’know.”
“I beg to differ,” you said, letting go of his jaw. Your fingernails had left little dints in his cheeks, but he didn’t look like he cared at all. You rested your hands on his waist and smirked. “I think you’d fail all your classes.”
“True,” he squeaked, breath catching.
You narrowed your eyes at him and slowly moved your hands up a little bit, fingers tracing his sides cautiously. 
You’d asked to kiss him, not pull weird sounds out of his throat and have him bury his head in your neck, but that’s what happened. As your fingers caught on the edge of his shirt, you whispered quietly to him. “Is this okay?” 
Leo just nodded frantically, his hot breath landing on the patch of skin where your neck and shoulder met. When your fingers touched his warm skin he grinned, his mouth brushing you. You felt the shiver that ran up him under the pads of your fingers, and you decided you liked it. 
He pressed his face tightly against you, hands curling around the back of your collar. 
Your chest tightened at the feeling of his lips and you dug your nails into the squishy part of Leo’s hips. It was a bad habit but it got you a firm kiss on your neck, even if it was accidental. 
Leo pulled back enough for him to look up at you, cheeks dusted with pink and lips puffy. He smiled the tiniest bit, but you could see a question in it and you answered by moving your hands to his back, rubbing circles. 
It was only at this point did you realize that he had sharp teeth, but as he chewed at your skin softly and licked it afterwards like an apology, you weren’t complaining. 
Neither was Leo, obviously. He left sore spots and his hair brushed your ear. His teeth picked you apart. You felt like rubber under his warm hands and wide grin, but then your hands traced his ribs because he’d begun sucking on a tender spot beneath your jaw. 
He insisted on leaving bruises you would have to cover up later. Maybe he’d take it as a challenge. Hopefully.
He pecked kisses along your kissed out skin until he reached your lips again. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
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witchybitchycrybaby · 4 months ago
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And they were neighbors...
Benjicot Blackwood x modern!fem!Bracken!reader
Warnings: none, it's just pure fluff, modern au
Words: 1,3k
✨✨✨
Benjicot Blackwood groaned as his alarm buzzed on the nightstand, effectively interrupting his sleep. He slapped it off and lay back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His thoughts, as usual, drifted to his best friend, his next-door neighbor, his... whatever you were to him. The Bracken girl, on top of that.
His parents would probably go bananas if they knew he had feelings for you.
Sure, your families couldn't stand each other, everybody in your small neighborhood knew that, but for Benji that war no longer mattered when it came to you. He thought about the way you looked at him, the way you always had an answer whenever he said something unhinged, and that smile… oh, that smile. He was whipped, completely and utterly.
How you managed to get so deep under his skin was beyond his understanding.
He'd had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. He never said a word about it before, though. He liked being your friend and he was afraid of ruining your relationship. The thought of you not reciprocating his feelings was always in the back of his head, so he simply kept quiet.
Today, however... Oh, screw it, it was high time to take the risk.
Benji rolled over and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. With his hair tousled on the pillow, eyes still half-closed, and a lazy smirk on his lips, he snapped a picture. He looked exactly how he wanted to feel: confident, yet charming. Perfect. He added a caption: "So, what’s it like living next to the most handsome guy ever?"
With a deep breath, he hit send. He quickly tossed the phone away as if it burned him. You two were used to each others smartass remarks, but flirting was an entirely different level. Seconds felt like hours, and he started to question his impulsiveness. What if you didn't get the hint? What if you thought hr was being weird? What if you didn't respond, choosing to ignore him? His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind creating the worst-case scenarios wasn't helping at all.
Finally, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, expecting the worst. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message.
"No idea. I'm pretty sure there's no one in our neighborhood that matches the description."
Benji's heart raced as he read your reply. It was good, really good even. You didn't make fun of him, you just took the chellange. He could work with that. His finger hovered above the screen, trying to come up with a response, when another message from you popped up.
This time, it was a picture. You were also still in bed, your hair a mess, eyes half-closed, looking even sleepier than him. You were clutching a pillow with a playful smile on your lips. His breath hitched in his throat. You were stunning.
"I figured I'd return the favor," you texted then. He grinned as his heart did a little flip.
"Cute," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. "But I still look better."
"In your dreams, Blackwood."
"You are in my dreams, Bracken."
There was a pause before you texted back: "Cheesy much?"
"For you? Always."
He stopped for a second. Biting his lip, he thought of doing something riskier. The only thing he was worried about was your reaction.
"Speaking of dreams," he started again after a minute. "I dreamt I stole your pillow. I guess mine's just not as comfy."
There it was. He sent it. And you read it.
There was a brief pause before you answered, but when you did, relief poured over him
"Of course you'd want my pillow, my bed is generally way better, you know. It's not my fault you can't get some decent pillows."
"Nah, it's just the pillow. I've got the coziest setup, Bracken. You'd fall asleep in seconds."
"You're delusional," you texted, and he could imagine you laughing in your room. "I'd show you real cozy, but my bed is off-limits to annoying neighbors."
"I think you meant 'annoyingly charming'", he typed, his smile growing wider. "Admit it, Bracken, you'd let me join you if I asked nicely."
Your reply came quickly, "If you weren't so annoying, maybe, I'd have to think about."
This was it, the opening he was waiting for. Benji took a deep breath and went for it. "Alright, I promise to be on my best behavior. Now, would you be so kind, my lady, and open your window?"
That threw you off a bit. "Why?" You texted, your eyebrows furrowed.
Only seconds after you sent your message, you heard a soft rustling outside. Moving to the window, you pulled back the curtain to see Benji, climbing up to your window with a mischievous grin. Your eyes widened in shock at the sight.
"What the hell, Benji?" you whisper-shouted, quickly opening the window.
"Good morning to you too, y/n," he whispered back, there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the smile creeping onto your face. "Are you crazy? If my parents find out you're here, they'll kill you. And then my dad will resurrect you just to kill you again."
Benji chuckled softly. "They'd have to catch me first. Now, are you going to help me in, or are you going to let me fall and have my ghost haunt you for the rest of your life?"
"You're insane", you said but grabbed his arm and helped him climb into your room. He landed softly on your carpet, glancing around your room. "Cozy," he said, sitting on your bed and bouncing slightly on the mattress.
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"
He stretched out on your bed, hands behind his head. "Testing the coziness, of course. You did say your bed was better, remember?"
You shook your head, sitting next to him. "You know, you could've just walk through the front door? Like a normal human being, Benji. Climbing through my window is a bit... dramatic."
Benji turned to look at you. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I needed to make sure I had your full attention."
You sighed, but there was no hiding the smile that appeared at your lips. "You've got it. Now what?"
He sat up, closer to you now, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by something more serious. "I like you, Bracken. A lot. More than a friend should like a friend. And I get it, our families, the whole feud thing... but I don't care about any of that when it comes to you. I just... I needed to tell you."
You stared at him, your eyes wide in shock and surprise. You though your mind glitched, trying to process his words. He looked so vulnerable now that he had exposed himself and his feelings. "Benji, I..."
But before you could say something more, he cut you off with a nervous laugh. "I know, it's crazy. I just... I needed to tell you."
Your hand reached out and grabbed his. You gave it a soft squeeze and intertwined your fingers. "No, it's not crazy. Actually... To be completely honest, I feel the same way too."
"You-you do?" He stuttered.
"Yeah. I guess I was just scared to say anything because of our families and all that. But... I’m glad you did."
A slow smile spread across his face, lightening it up. "Me too."
He leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. "So, does this mean I get to stay? Not just for the comfy bed, I mean."
You laughed, the sound filling the room. Oh, he could listen to it for eternity. "Yes, Benji. You get to stay."
He grinned, closing the distance between you. "Good," he whispered, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was brief but for Benji it was enough.
For now.
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felis-rach · 6 months ago
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This world needs more bowsareach! So here's a little something I wrote for them! (It was part of a bigger fic I didn't finish, but it doesn't need context)
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Mario was starting to think that all the “hero” thing made him forgot how to deal with mundane challenges.
He realized that when he saw himself using the cat-bell to climb up the wall and get a book from the top of the shelf. And when he tried to explain the claw marks to Peach, saying, “but what ELSE could I have done?” Her answer was silently pointing to a chair.
Bowser thought this was all hilarious, of course. And Mario had to remind him of who breathed fire into the oven when it wouldn’t turn on. And the reason they had to eat microwaved food for a week.
It was just a simple memory of some random day, but it made Mario feel so nostalgic. Their little home, hidden in a hill on the edge of the kingdom and accessible through a warp pipe they built, was no less than a dream come true.
After all, dating two monarchs meant that the three of them couldn’t simply rent an apartment together. Peach had to stay at her castle, and Bowser, at his, and when they eventually arranged the marriage that would unite the two kingdoms, it would be time to live together and Mario would come along.
But for now, the three of them settled in getting a little house to be the place they could run away to when Peach and Bowser got a moment of peace. It was great, especially when they managed to spend a whole weekend there.
Mario had the time of his life watching The Royals get used to the cottage. Peach, as a regent who always placed herself at the same level of her people and hated to be perceived as superior, gave her best to act naturally, so Mario tried to hide his laughter when they sat down to eat and her face just read “Oh, indeed, this table has but four chairs and doesn’t occupy the whole room.” He could see her dying inside a bit when all the plates and cups got too cramped up.
Bowser, on the other hand, being made of ego as he was, absolutely made sure he was seen as superior by his subjects (which never prevented him from being a caring ruler, going personally to a civilian’s house if they had any trouble, and screw his schedule). So he didn’t even pretend to be comfortable there. It was such an ordeal to prevent him from turning the house into a second palace. The most that Mario and Peach gave in was to make a living room big enough to fit a grand piano. Even so, he complained at every possible time about the house’s size.
“Pff. The fifty-second heir to the mighty koopa empire, living on an ant’s house like this… Of course, we left it to Mario to lead the project. He measured the house based on his own size.”
And Mario simply answered by sitting on the table in front of him. “Truly, I am so very small.” He placed Bowser’s hand on his back. “Look, I even fit on this huge and scary koopa’s hand. Oh, my stars! I sure do hope he doesn’t take advantage of all this size to grab me and kidnap me to some dark castle. Poor me!”
His voice was casually innocent, and Bowser’s face was on fire since he was still a mess whenever Mario and Peach gave him attention like that (and the two of them abused the heck out of it).
“Don’t you tempt me, plumber.” Bowser warned, holding his breath.
“Your hand is still around me.”
“…”
“Oh, no! That terrible monster is kidnapping my Mario!” Peach entered the room, and Mario fondly smiled with the “my”, dumb as their playing was. “Will I have to rescue him? But what if he kidnaps me, too?” She threw herself at Bowser with a hand dramatically at her forehead.
“STOP THAT!” Bowser jumped out of the chair, like Mario and Peach were contagious. “You two, you’re… you’re unfair, that’s what you are!”
“Weeeeeee?” They got closer, blinking innocently at the koopa, who got all the more red.
“…Dddddon’t you blame me when I actually kidnap you.” He turned to leave, visibly wanting to die in some corner and regain his dignity before he could even think about flirting back. And hit the doorframe with his shoulder. “STUPID small house! That’s YOUR fault, Mario!” They heard, as he ran to the room. And just laughed together.
“I definitely won’t mind if he goes through with this threat.” Mario smirked. “What about you, Peaches?”
“Not at all.” She agreed, before placing herself in front of her boyfriend, pinning him to the table with both arms. “Just beware, or I might take you first, sweetie.”
And she kissed his nose. Yeah, he’d definitely not mind that too.
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