#Sexy Trash (Self)

[slythernnn]

Decided to hop on the Hozier challenge bandwagon lol

[chanelpirate]

I hear y’all but also can we talk about how bellafrancesca clearly dommed dracula back to full power

[ghostfacetheballfondler]

delusions of grandeur are acting up again. except they're extra strong. calling them delusions feels like lying. because are they really delusions if i'm actually right?

everyone around me is so much less than i am. so fucking dumb. proving me right over and over again for the rest of their lives

even my friends, who i thought were better than the average person, ended up proving themselves to be just as inferior.

the only use humans have for me is to look cute while they stroke my ego. they're all the same anyways. replaceable things.

bleh.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?

✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?

✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!

✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!

✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡

✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)

✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?

✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?

✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.

✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)

✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."

[thornbutch]

One Night Only (Pt. 2) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡ | pics r not mine.

Part One | Part Two

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader, (brief) Andre Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Past experiences have wrecked Jordan’s perception of their true feelings. The pretty girl from a week ago isn’t making their situation any better. Cue angst and car sex.

Tags: Jordan Li x fem!reader, Gen V, Jordan Li is a toxic, jealous, sexy piece of shit, cursing, angst, sensitive reader, sapphic make out sesh, Corruption kink, smut, mature content, Jordan might be a little OOC? Sorry. I wrote this in two hours.

Word Count: 2.7k

Jordan Li was probably the most confusing human being she had ever encountered. Ever since that night, he had been ignoring her. She’d see him in the courtyard at lunch, wave, and be disappointed when he didn’t wave back. She knew he saw her. What was his problem?

A week went by since the night she entangled with Jordan. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Jordan didn’t see her as anything but a one-night stand. She couldn’t explain why she felt so hurt by this. Maybe Jordan regretted what happened. Or maybe she was some kind of revenge hook-up? She had dealt with that before; her body being used to make someone else jealous. But that didn’t seem like a thing Jordan would do. On the other hand, she didn’t know Jordan much. She knew he was number five on the list. She knew that he had been Dr. Brink’s TA, but other that, his story was a mystery to her.

The next time she saw him, she was determined to get his attention. She didn’t care if she embarrassed him. How dare he treat her like trash? He owed her an explanation. If she had did something wrong, she’d like to know. If he wished he could forget that night, she had a right to know. She doesn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. He didn’t have to fuck her again, but he could’ve at least waved or said hello when he saw her in public.

She had gotten information from Maverick, the dorm’s resident assistant. She demanded to know where Jordan’s room was in the sweetest way. She fluttered her eyelashes and put her hands together in a praying form, begging him over and over to tell her until he finally did.

“God, you freshman are so fucking annoying! Can’t a guy jerk off in peace?” She didn’t have time to wonder if he was jerking off in that moment, due to his invisibility. She’d question him again later on that, because ew.

She made her way to Jordan’s room, knocking on the door once, twice, three times.

“Coming!” She heard a feminine voice shout from behind the door.

Had she arrived at the wrong room? No, Mark was adamant on the floor level and room number.

Plus, she recognized that smell of hefty cologne from the night Jordan fucked her senseless.

So who was-

Oh. She had approximately five seconds to walk, no sprint, away from this situation. She could’ve made it behind a wall or scurried off into a communal bathroom. She had time.

But she stood there, dumbfounded and hurt.

The girl from the other side opened the door, “Can I-“

She stood there.

Her doe eyes brimmed with tears. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? She didn’t own Jordan. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Wrong door.”

Before the girl had anything to say, she was running down the hallway and exiting the building.

. . .

That was all it took for her to move on. Now, she was back to her normal self. Fuck Jordan Li, and fuck whoever that girl was at the door.

She was undoubtedly pretty, but also handsome at the same time. She kind-of looked like Jordan a bit, but she highly doubted it was a relative. Some guys were into shit like that, fucking the “girl” versions of themselves.

Ick.

She was tired of parties. They were fun, sure. It was nice to get out and get drunk and fuck here and there, but she needed an escape from that environment. She opted to go to a bar instead, one of the local ones near campus that served as a hot spot for the students.

She put on a black, tubed dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She chose one of her favorite leather jackets to match with it and similar-looking black leather boots that came up just below her knee. It was different than what she’d normally wear. The white dresses, jean skirts, and pink accents made her look cute, but it seemed like people took advantage of that. They thought she was naïve and not aware of their schemes.

She was smart, that much was evident. As pretty as she was, she was also sexy, and she’d be damned if she didn’t own that shit.

The bar was far quieter than the frat parties, but still loud nonetheless. Supes and normals mingled here. One thing they both had in common was their love for alcohol. It seemed to bring them together and offer peace against outside situations.

The moment came when she was asked if someone could buy her a drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair and deep black eyes. He was good-looking, she couldn’t deny that.

“I’m a freshman,” she stated. The man laughed.

“You say that like I’m old,” he said as he bought himself a drink, “I’m only a junior.”

She smiled, knowing that he was in her age range and a fellow student calmed her. “I’m (Y/n).”

He took a sip from his glass, “Andre,” he replied, “You have a coin on you?”

She nodded, reaching into her black velvet purse to retrieve a quarter. She handed it to him, and he examined it thoroughly.

“Look,” he held the quarter between his forefinger and thumb, “If I could make this-“ she watched as the quarter transformed before her eyes, the metal twisting and bending to create the shape of a bird, “into her drink-“ he looked over at a woman sitting down, holding a champagne glass in her hand, “then you have to come home with me.”

“Oh, I have to?” She smirked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he shrugged and grinned back, “Just enforce them.”

Before she could reply, she felt a familiar presence loom over her. She turned around, met with a firm chest and a heavy scent.

Jordan.

“She’s not into your lame ass party tricks, Andre,” Jordan said.

Andre scoffed, blistering a false offended look on his face, “Lame? C’mon, Jordan, don’t be like that.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “She’s not interested, got it?”

Andre rolled his eyes as well, his fists bawled up and the once floating medal bird turned into a dense ball, “It’s 2023. Women can speak for themselves.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at you, finally including you in on the conversation that he interrupted, “Are you interested?”

She was taken aback by the question. She sputtered a little, swapping glances between Andre and Jordan. Whatever this was, she did not want to be apart of it. Fuck Jordan for ruining this.

“No.” She said. Andre held his hands up in defeat, grabbed his drink, and walked away from the bar and into the crowd. She turned back to Jordan then and stood up. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said.

She pushed him then. “No, fuck you. Fuck you for being an asshole to me all this week and then popping up to ruin-“

“Ruin what, exactly? Where you going to go home with him, huh? Fuck him, too? Let him see you the way I saw you?”

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it. His grip was tight and bruising. A few bystanders gathered around them.

“Let’s go to my car.” Jordan tugged her towards the exit. She barely had time to register what was going on before she felt the cold breeze of the night air swift through her nostrils and blow on her exposed skin.

He opened the passenger door for her. A gentleman. What kind of gentleman would dare to ask to her that way? Just who did he think he was? Her fucking boyfriend?

She got in, and he slammed the door closed. She stared out the window as he felt the car dip a little with the weight of Jordan getting in on the driver’s side.

The car was silent.

“Are we playing the quiet game or something?” .

She nodded.

He sighed, “Look, you have every right to hate me-“

“I do.”

“-but I need to explain something to you.”

She could feel her anger bubbling up. Her knees bounced against the car floor. She continued to stare out the window. “Explain.”

“The girl you saw, she was-“

Oh, not this lousy and overused excused. He really thought she was dumb. It wasn’t just something she had made up in her mind. This was evidence.

She turned, tears just about to spill past her eyelids, “Your sister? Your cousin? Your best friend?” She scoffed, “You think I’m stupid. You ignore me for a week, a week, Jordan. Then you decide you can whisk me away like you’re some kind of Prince Charming?”

“That’s not-“

“You embarrass me in front a cute guy because what? You’re jealous? You don’t like to see your one-night stand hooking up with other people but don’t mind not bothering to wave back when she waves at you?”

“(Y/n)-“

“But maybe I am stupid. You asked if I was interested, and I said no. You opened the door for me, and I got in. You folded my panties and tucked me in and left and treated me like I didn’t exist.”

Jordan watched intently as she spewed all the horrible shit they had done to her. They didn’t think it would affect her so much. They’d hate to be ignored, too, but they’d get over it. They could tell she convinced herself she was over them, over the entire situation. If she was moved on, she wouldn’t have turned down Andre’s offer, and she wouldn’t have entered their vehicle.

“-and now you’re not fucking listening, great.” She folded her arms and dramatically laid back against the seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her makeup was ruined. Black streaks of mascara coated the skin.

“I’m sorry,” they said. “You’re right. Not about the stupid thing, the fucked up thing. It was wrong of me to ignore you, I just…” Jordan breathed in shakily. This was so out of character for them. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

She turned towards the window again, staring at her own reflection.

“And… the girl you saw wasn’t my sister, cousin, or best friend,” They could feel their chest tightening, “She was me.”

She watched in the reflection as Jordan morphed into the girl she had seen earlier. She turned back sharply, completely in shock at what she just witnessed.

“You-“

“Yeah. I’m bigender, or whatever the fuck,” Jordan sighed. They felt vulnerable in this form. They tucked a strand of their longer black hair behind their ear and looked beyond the front windshield, “I didn’t want you thinking that I-“

“That you’re into women who look like you?” She responded.

“Yes,” Jordan snorted, “But I was going to say that I wasn’t using you. Or- I didn’t use you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Do you normally fuck girls and abandon them?”

“I normally don’t get jealous when I see someone else flirting with them,” they looked at her then, “I didn’t like what I saw. When he flirted with you using his medal-bending ability. It was corny.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping away her tears, “It was kind of corny.”

Jordan nodded, “I was… afraid. I’m not used to feeling like this, but I am used to it at the same time. Girls, they fuck me in my masculine form and want nothing to do with me in my feminine form. Guys are vice versa.”

She listened to every word coming from their mouth.

“I guess I’ve grown accustomed to blocking people out without asking if they’d accept both versions of me.”

The car was quiet once more.

“Accustomed,” she whispered, “that’s a big word.”

Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I don’t mind,” she was no longer looking at them, instead focusing on her hands that she held in her lap, “I wouldn’t have judged you. I’m not judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“I think you’re the most handsomest and prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” she said.

They could feel their ears tint with red.

“I understand why you were nervous, but I wish you would’ve talked to me before doing all of this,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,” she faced them, bringing her hands to cup their soft jawline, “I forgive you.”

Their lips met with hers, but not like how they did at the frat party. This time was more passionate, sweeter, and less rough. She broke the kiss to climb over the armrest and straddle them. Jordan leaned the chair back as far as it would go to give her enough room to sit on their lap. She took off her leather jacket. Their hands held onto her waist, keeping her in place. She liked being on top and knowing that she had no control. They liked being underneath her and knowing that they were still the dominant one.

They began to kiss each other harder. More hunger. They craved her. She must’ve worn this black outfit in retaliation. She looked pretty in white. She looked pretty in black. She looked pretty naked. She was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen, and now they had her right where they wanted her.

She had been hogging their memory ever since that night. They’d slip their hands into their pants during late hours of the night, fondling their clit and breathing her name in heavy gasps as they imagined her touching them. They pinched their nipples, imagining her biting them. They wanted to see her between their thighs, eating them out with her back arched and her eyes closed because she was so into it.

“Am I doing good?” They imagined she would say.

They’d tell her she was doing amazing as they fucked their pussy onto her face.

They’d have to take a late-night shower, having soaked their boxers in their secretion. Their shirt would stick to their back from how hot they were and how much they were sweating during a simple masturbation session.

They wondered if she touched herself. Maybe she was so pent up with frustration that she couldn’t help but fuck it out of herself. She’d use two fingers right off the bat. Her legs would be spread open, and her clothes discarded into a heap at the edge of her bed.

“Jordan,” she’d moan.

“Jordan,” she moaned.

They were brought back to the present, pulling away from her lips. Both of their chests rise and fell with great intensity. They bought their hand up to her face, placing their thumb on her lip and parting them. She opened willingly, allowing their thumb to enter her wet cavern.

She sucked feverishly, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed. They could feel how wet they were in their stiff jeans.

She pulled their thumb out of her mouth with a barely audible pop!

“I want to touch you,” she said.

Yes, yes, please, yes.

She pulled up their shirt, revealing a flat stomach that had the shadows of their abs present. They didn’t wear a bra. She was very understanding of that, too. It’d be extremely uncomfortable for them to shift and feel the hard clasps of the bra digging into their back.

She cupped their breast tenderly, swiping her thumb over the nipple. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d been with women before. Was she an expert? Or was she just doing what she did when she touched herself?

She pinched and they shifted unexpectedly. She leaned back, her ass hitting the steering wheel and blaring the horn.

It was quiet for the third time.

They apologized for startling her. She told them it was okay.

Then, she busted out laughing, falling onto them. They laughed, too.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“A sign for what?”

“To take me back to your place.”

She didn’t have to say anything else.

[themareverine]

—worst!Logan x nameless!femOC

warnings: fluff, domesticity, absolutely self indulgent, mentions of a car accident, based on some limited Googling I’ve placed Logan and Deadpool in Hoboken, NJ.

car shopping with Logan torturing the salesman and being sexy, lol. can only imagine. absolutely no idea where this came from, took me 20 minutes on my phone. Enjoy.

“I just wanna know if the heads have been done, baby.”

Nervously twisting her foot against the stones and other used-car lot gravel has done little to sway Logan’s insistence on forcing the underpaid salesman to answer earthbending questions just short of torturous. Twice already the man had left back into the office to retrieve records—hasn’t been smart enough to just keep the file on hand. Kids these days, is all Logan had muttered. The man was no less than 55, at a wild hair guess—gray mottling his beard and once-copper hair was evidence.

Attention welded firmly to the top the motor humming quietly in front of him, Logan’s hands slip into his pockets as he studies. He’d been taking her to car dealerships all afternoon, for nearly five weekends in a row—money burning holes in the pockets of his Wranglers, no doubt.

Unable to find anything remotely worth his time, Logan had been nitpicking since she’d proudly waved the check from Geico proudly overhead. Like a battle flag staked in the survival of a car accident, it wasn’t a life changing amount of cash—meager, actually, considering the vehicle lost. She’d trashed the Tuscon on the backroads of Tennessee valley country, a tried and true companion with well over two hundred thousand on the dash and the Midwestern rust to prove it.

A wreck she’d walked away from. Logan had all but flown to her aid—he hadn’t slept the thirteen hours and thirty eight minutes it had taken to rescue her from hill country. With little warning, he’d packed a backpack, punched out of Jersey with his Jeep. Gas station coffee, cigars, and a stashed bottle of Jack Daniel’s under the front seat had found her, swept her up in a kiss and concern, and whisked her back to Hoboken.

And in true Logan fashion, he’d kept under wraps his intentions until that check hit the mailbox. Or, rather—a Snapchat had showed up on his phone. Ecstatic, a heavily filtered and stickered snap had made him smile—and she’d almost dropped her phone. Hadn’t been not a walking mess of flustered and flattered, doe-eyed and dreamwalking since he’d announced he would not only be helping her scout out her new rig, but paying the difference for whatever pink slip she came to acquire.

“It’s just money, darlin’—I got plen’y.”

Mistruth, she knew—Logan worked hard on a barely-livable wage working logs, but, despite any attempt to argue over shared chili cheese fries and rootbeer floats, she’d relented. Hands tossed in the air. He, after all, had money saved. Couldn’t think of a better investment.

“Gotta get my girl into something safer than a fucking Hyundai Tuscon.”

“Logan. I really think it’s fine—“ Hunger burns at the base of her spine. Her feet are near bleeding in wedge heels, and it may as well be sun surface degrees standing on the blacktop in jeans and a Greatest Showman Lip Sync t-shirt. The turquoise squash blossom necklace around her neck is heavy and slick with perspiration from the back of her neck—also a gift from Logan, for Hanukkah. Presented before her family as a grand gesture of vested interest and traditional courtship, it was as real as God. Expensive. Heavy.

His look is hard, wrinkled as his eyes scale over her. “You got somewhere to be?” Nodding to the phone in her hand, “You’re checkin’ the time like it’s your lover, honey. Secret boyfriend I don’t know about?” His brows wag teasingly for a second, pink flashing to life on her cheeks.

“I just think if we’re not gonna buy the car, we shouldn’t be making poor Phil run back and forth,”

They’d already discussed this on the test drive. Phil was two things, if not honest—a jackass, and completely incompetent when it came to the issue of Subaru Outback’s with the 3.6r. Logan and his copious amounts of obsessive access to Google, married with over 200 years of tinkering on anything with wheels, had determined every single known mechanical complaint about these damn wagons—and, once she’d decided which direction to go, had made it his life’s purpose to plague every single online forum to know. He’d asked questions. Googled schematics and blueprints. Had test driven no less than six vehicles, finding faults with all of them. Salespeople aside.

His nose wrinkles, snorting dismissively. “The fuck I won’t,” hands fall from his pockets to the frame of the Outback, Logan bending over the motor to consider the hum of the serpentine belt, “ain’t gonna kill him to make some steps when his ass is gettin’ fat in an office chair, darlin’. B’sides, haven’t decided if we’re buying this or not—not fully.” In other words, I’m having fun pullin’ his chain, baby.

Sighing, she drops her purse off her shoulder and reaches to unclasp the necklace from off her neck. Logan clocks her shift, brows furrowed—moves behind to undo it himself, thick fingers warm and calloused as they gently brush the curls on the back of her neck. Heat ebbs from him like a long black train, breath warm and heady on the back of her neck.

Handing the necklace over her shoulder, his arm snakes around her waist. Tugs her close. Smiling against her flittering pulse, his hand covers the necklace in hers as a low hum of approval rummages around the adamantium in his chest.

“You’re hot,” he hums. And she isn’t sure if he means overheated or otherwise, but opts into the adjective game.

“It’s a hundred degrees,” and that’s no lie. Gently tipping her head to the side, she smiles as his tongue gently lathes the spot behind her ear, “I’m in jeans and heels, Wolvie honey.” Her hand reached to brush fingers through his hair, tempted to pull. “And I know for damn sure you’re not buying this Outback. You don’t like Phil.”

Gut punched and pleasured, his growl is animalistic. Bestial. “How’d ya know that?”

Her lilt is light, teasing as her hips cant back against his pelvis. “You didn’t like him the second he slapped eyes on my tits in this shirt, that’s how,” her sigh is exaggerated, “and—for a guy over two centuries old, you don’t exactly have a poker face, Logan.”

His laugh is hard, rough around his chest. She can feel it rattle down her spine, chasing the heat that pools in the cradle of her womb. Every nerve is alive as he snugs up his arm around her waist, fingers tracing the buckle of her belt. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gently sways her back and forth.

She continues, “I am also waiting for you to cash in on that promise for lunch,” glancing down, “you can obviously see I’m withering away here, Wolverine.” Trying not to giggle as his hands move to her hips, nipping at her skin, his fingers gently slip into the pockets of her jeans as he angles his head to brush his nose against the shell of her ear.

“Got a better idea, sunshine—how about we screw Felony Phil and his clunker of an Outback, and I take you outback for some product research, huh?”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. Sold.

tags: @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @fandomxo00

[nightlyrequiem]

Hey there, I love your writing! (you may know because I'm always around hehe). You're smooth, set a good flow even with the one shots, I look forward every Saturday to read a new chapter🥺 It's definitely the best girls for the girls writing!!!

And, I have a request hehe, I just read 'Weeping Angel' and I had the thought about Valeria finding a girl that works in her cartel who is the opposite, instead of crying she gets on with Valeria atitude.

Something about Valeria been rude, that harsh and mocking tone she has that's chef kiss, she screaming with her crew? Barking orders with her brows narrowed? Reader LOVES IT, just staying around looking with doe eyes at the cartel mami being a sexy leader all day.

Hiii Infeeeerno!!! I see you in my notifs all the time. Always makes me smile 🫂

I'm glad you're enjoying my writing, as a self-proclaimed girl lover, I naturally like to write for them

I can't even lie watching scenes where Valeria is angry just does something unspeakable to me. Something about aggressive outspoken women is just so... I say I want her to yell at me like that but I'm probably more like Reader in Weeping Angel

That being said I wouldn't mind her making me cry anyway

Tags/Warnings: Valeria Murders a Man, Valeria is Mean to Reader, Reader is Into it

Yell For Me

Valeria is yelling again. Someone messed up a shipment and it was costly. She's all but throwing a fit over it. The two men responsible are forced to face the brunt of her fury. She's throwing things and cursing. It's the most beautiful thing you've seen. Raw passion and emotion clings to every insult and curse she hurls at them. Valeria waves her arms around as she rants, the muscles in her biceps flexing with each movement.

"-Fucking idiots! How do you mess up such a simple thing?"

You almost feel ashamed over how attractive you find her when she's angry.

The men try not to react when she prowls closer. The smell of violence is in the air. She doesn't even hesitate when she pulls out her gun and shoots one of them in between the eyes. So sure of herself and her decision making. Valeria is a woman that knows what she wants and isn't afraid to be vocal when she doesn't get it. Before the other man can process what happened she's grabbing him by the hair and dragging him back roughly. Throwing him to the floor. You hear the breath knocked from his lungs.

You watch, entranced, as she beats him. Balling up her fists and repeatedly pounding into his face and chest. It's quick and efficient. Though he's still left twitching. It seems Valeria is feeling merciful today. She leans down close to his ear and hisses out a warning.

"Fuck up again and you'll be drifting home in pieces."

You want her to hit you and threaten you like that. Please, lord, just once let it happen? She stands and steps over his body like it's trash on the sidewalk. Valeria stalks past you and you turn and follow her dutifully.

You two walk into the elevator and wait while you ascend. Valeria's gray tank top has a few specks of blood staining the front. Speckled just under her rosary. She's still tense which has her flexing her arms unknowingly. You want to run your fingers over them. At a closer look you see small, silvery ropes of scar tissue littered among her arms.

"What the hell are you looking at?" She snaps, breaking your focus. Your eyes snap up to hers. Meeting her glare head on.

"Nothing." You murmur. 

"Well cut it out, pendeja." She growls. "It's rude to stare. Ya deberías saberlo, imbécil."

"Sorry." Though you're not really sorry.

The elevator doors slide open and she's out. You follow close behind like an over eager puppy.

"You!" Valeria says harshly, pointing at a man going over inventory. He jumps and looks at her.

"What?"

"Go to the warehouse by fifth and make sure everything is accounted for." She demands. Brows lowered. Valeria has one of those voices that commands attention even when it's not barking orders at you. When she's not yelling, she's usually being sarcastic and sneering at whoever she's speaking to. Like they're stupid and inconveniencing her by talking to her. The man nods and scurries off. She rubs a hand over her face. Something she does when she's getting a headache - and you're delighted to be privy to that information. "We have paperwork to do." she says.

Valeria can feel your eyes boring into the side of her head. She tries to ignore you while she works. You're weird. Valeria thinks of you as strange. She's seen that look on your face whenever she's bitching someone out. Eyes wide and glazed over, lips parted like she's giving the most compelling speech to ever grace your ears. Even when she's yelling at you for doing something wrong you have that look. She suspects you're into that kind of thing. It's not like she purposefully puts on a show for you sometimes. Playing up her anger to worse than it is. Even if she was, so what? Valeria isn't the type of person to be looked at with awe, and while she does revel in the fear and hate, it feels nice to be looked at differently.

It's hard to find someone who is able to withstand her temper and sharp tongue. Not only are you able to withstand it, but you seem to like it.

"You're staring. Again." she drawls. Looking up at you with an unamused expression. Anyone else would look away under her withering glare, not you though.

"Sorry."

But you're not. She leans back in her chair and rests her forearm on her desk. Not subtly flexing it for you. "Did you do anything productive, or have you been staring this whole time?" She snaps at you. "You told me you could handle this work, but it feels like something as simple as paperwork is too hard for you."

"I can do paperwork." You reply. Your voice is quiet but not because you're hurt or scared.

"Then do it." she says dryly. You look down and return your attention back to your task. You're weird, but Valeria likes that you aren't scared of her. Valeria likes the way you look at her, like you're five seconds away from pouncing on her.

It's hard to focus on your work when Valeria is only a few feet away. The desire to look at her face, mature in a way that only age and stress can do, is strong. She's strong, and aggressive, and homicidal, and so, so hot. You need her to scream at you, then you'll die happy.

"When we're done, we're going to go bet something to eat." She says. It's a command, not a request.

"Like, you and me?" You ask hopefully.

Valeria sighs irately. "Do you see anyone else in the room I could be referring to?" She asks dryly. 

"Right." You smile.

Valeria shakes her head and mutters under her breath.

"So..." You pipe up after a few minutes, watching her scowl when you do anything besides work. "Are we going to dinner in a date way?"

"Did you inhale paint fumes as an infant?" Valeria retorts. "Yes, it's a date. If you keep asking me dumb questions it won't be anymore."

"Sorry." You reply, still smiling dumbly. Forever unperturbed by her words.

[cyber-night]

Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it. No smut today, sorry :(

Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...

You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.

You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.

True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.

You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.

He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"And?"

"...And I was wrong."

"About?"

"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."

Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.

You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."

You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.

[finniestoncrane]

As someone who is a clean freak with slight germaphobia and gets grossed out VERY easily (to the point that I wear gloves a lot LMAO), I would be MISERABLE with Digger. However. This goes not make him ANY less pretty-boy OR stop the fact that I'd make out with him sloppy style. ANYWAYS: Headcanons with him being with a clean freak? I'm nothing if not self-indulgent HGSHADGDHGAHDG ALSO HI FINNIE I HOPE YOU'RE WELL !!

Clean Freak Reader

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons literally couldn't be me, like literally, i am in awe of people who can keep things clean. unfortunately, digger and i would stew in our own filth, so we need people like you to come fix it for us (also i picked his nastiest face for this) 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course

this is EXACTLY what he needs, i am a big believer in opposites attract and balancing things out and all that jazz!! so someone who can bring out a... neater(?) side of him would only be a positive

it means he can be his authentic self with the added bonus of knowing someone's going to clean up after him, or at the very least keep him clean enough that he doesn't die

he'd struggle a lot with letting you clean up his van, or trimming up his facial hair, or forcing him into a deep cleansing bath, because he would believe you are washing away his natural, sexy musk (which you would be, tbh)

but if the reward is having you actually touch him without grimacing or swallowing your nerves, then he'll concede

also, obviously, having someone who is a clean freak means that you'll be doing most of the tidying up, yeah? like the dishes, trash, laundry, general getting-rid-of-stains?

if so, might he trouble you to don a little maid outfit? i mean yeah, you're already doing him a massive favour, and no, he hasn't exactly remembered to thank you for it

BUT the least you could do is make it a bit sexy for him!!

you are going to end up in a situation where you're not sure when the line between mommy/daddy and actual parent got blurred

he doesn't mean to take advantage of you, and he doesn't mean to be so manipulative, but a few blinks of his big eyelashes can have you cooking, cleaning and mollycoddling him after his failed attempts at murdering the flash or robbing a bank

the positive is that he is very easily trainable, like a puppy!!

you just have to find his motivation. some puppies like attention, some puppies like praise, some puppies are treat and food oriented. you just have to find his thing!

and it's fairly obvious what his thing is...

so if you need to give him a quick handjob to get him to wash behind his ears or put his empty tinnies in the bin instead of on the floor, is that really anything less than a win-win?

i don't think you would ever change him, and i don't think he'd ever truly be appreciative of all your efforts, because he would never ask for things to be clean and tidy

but he'd cherish the thought you put into keeping him from succumbing to several diseases, and any time you spend around him is a bonus in his eyes

[theplumsoldier]

money shot

summary: when recruiting you, pedro didn't realize he would get jealous from seeing other men fuck you, so he decides to pull your jobs, now only offering you solo scenes. you (dumb and dubious) ask why.

pairing: porn director!pedro pascal x reader

warnings: 18+: p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), vulgar language, pet names, dirty talk, lil self-doubt

word count: 2,9k

˗ˏˋ inspo ´ˎ˗ & @cannolighost for the idea (hope i did it justice babe!!;3)

When the man who approached you, talking about "star quality", handed you his business card, you glowered up at him. "Porn?"

He frowned and surprised you as his hands waved around in such animated gestures, which merely added to his charismatic demeanor. It also made the muscles in his tan arms protrude from his Versace silk shirt. "I prefer the term 'adult film director'."

Glaring at him with squinted eyes, you looked back at the card. Bubble productions. You snorted.

You had done this kind of work before. Amateur style, of course. With your old boyfriend, actually. At one point, he had convinced you to make a little home video, just for the two of you. You enjoyed the way you looked on the camera, which made it a whole lot easier for him to persuade you into letting him upload it. The two of you ended up filming yourselves regularly and sharing it online—and it gained a lot of attraction, too.

Now it had been a couple of months since your break-up, and frankly, you missed it. Not exactly the relationship itself, but feeling sexy, feeling admired, and worshipped by random people online. You had thought about it before, doing porn at a whole other level, but had dismissed the thought as quickly as it merely reminded you of him. The cheating bastard.

This time, with this man asking you to be "his new star", it was no different.

As you gave him your best smile, he thought he had reeled you in, but you then you kindly told him to "fuck off" and spun on your heel.

It wasn't until a few of days later, when you were scrolling through your feed and found a picture of your ex with a girl, that the thought occurred to you again.

You convinced yourself that it wasn't to make him jealous, simply for your own good, to give this thing a shot and do something fun for yourself. That same day you rummaged through your purse, certain you had shoved the business card away as opposed to throwing it into the trash, and sure enough—your eyes gleamed with a certain thrill as you dialed the number.

Of course, you couldn't just accept the offer right away. You needed to know what kind of thing you were getting yourself into, set some boundaries if you were to do this, and so you asked Pedro to meet you for a couple of drinks.

Pedro smooth-talks you all night and reveals what he's been thinking. Truth be told, you didn't have a lot of expectations, but he made his business sound just glamorous and the money was not too bad either.

He ensures you that you would be able to add input, requests, and such, and insisted that "it was all up to you". You told him that if you were to do this, you wanted to be able to turn down anything, anyone, no questions asked and he did not hesitate to agree.

At some point, you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. While feeling the soft alcoholic buzz enveloping your body, you felt his eyes on you and naturally became aware of the sway in your hips.

Pedro was certainly not bad-looking. With his brown hair, caramel eyes, and honey-dipped skin just begging to be licked, you began wondering if he himself had starred in any productions. You certainly would not object to a bite of him. While his charm had its wanted effect on you, you convinced yourself it was simply his eccentric persona, and not something directed specifically at you.

This charm he wields just so appears to comfort you, and welcome you to join his alluring lifestyle that it made you feel warm and fuzzy. It might be the alcohol, but he spoke with such passion, an intensity that it compelled you to take his hand and dive headfirst into his world.

Then came the dour reminder of your ex-boyfriend. He had been the one to put all these thoughts into your head in the first place, so you wondered what he would think. Would he reach out to you again? Would he be jealous? Or would he perhaps just think you for a slut?

A part of you wanted to provoke something inside of him—might be jealousy or even anger, a little possessiveness, just the right amount of toxic.

No.

This was not about him. It's about you.

With that inaudible dialogue with the bathroom mirror, you finally returned to Pedro. His skin was dewy from the heat and alcohol, and his enormous hand (which made the glass seem miniatures comparison) put his drink back down. He cocked an eyebrow as if quizzing you.

"I'm in."

The first day on the job was fantastic. There was time for the crew to mingle, the actors got to know each other a bit and you wrapped up with a nice cumshot on your tits. It was fun. You immediately felt that Bubble Productions were a safe space. The crew was focused on making the actors feel hyped up and confident, as you did your thing.

You figured it was quite normal to see a few boners here and there amongst the set crew, but you couldn't help but notice the tent in Pedro's pants as he directed from his chair. There was a point where he became unusually quiet, which made you think something was not to his liking. But as the cameramen flocked and closed in on you, you figured he was just concentrating on the money shot.

From then on, you found yourself with just three days of work in a week, trying different things with both guys and girls.

A couple of films later you began realizing Pedro had decided to take things down another road. Lately, he had handpicked you for several solo shoots, and you began pondering whether you did something wrong while performing with other people. While you enjoyed having to focus on just yourself, as well as being the center of attention (more specifically the center of Pedro's attention) you couldn't help but wonder.

Had someone complained about you? Did the audience not like you as much as they did in the beginning?

It prompted you to stay behind one time after the remains of the crew had left for the day, wanting nothing but to please the man with the vision.

It was the first time you had been alone with Pedro since that night at the bar and as you approached him with nothing to cover your figure except a dainty pink silk robe, he was ready to renounce every bit of professionalism left in him to take you right there, on the setup of fluffy pillows, wanting to see you teary-eyed as he fucked you into the Love-a-Lot Care Bear.

When you asked him if the audience did not like you, he immediately assured you: "they adore you!"

It should have lifted a weight off of your shoulders, but it did not—you were convinced something was wrong.

So you asked him if anyone had expressed aversion to working with you and Pedro realized he was the reason for your sudden self-consciousness.

It made him feel bad, for cutting your gigs down to a minimum and only offering you solo performances had been a very conscious choice. The jealousy brewing inside of him as he watched you do the job he had given you—he knew it was unprofessional of him but when the sin turned to downright anger, he just had to do something—what kind of director would he be to fire men for doing their job?

"Baby, everybody loves you! It's just—the audience doesn't wanna see a pretty girl like yourself bein' ruined, they want you all to themselves! Your solo's been a hit—"

You could see his lips move around the words, but you zoned out for a second. Of course, the audience wants to see you being ruined by filthy men, you thought, and once again, the thought that Pedro wanted you became dominant.

Did he want you all to himself?

"The audience..."

"Yeah!"

You frowned at him. "So this has nothing to do with what you want?"

Shit.

You saw right through him. He had hoped you were just pretty and dumb—that would have made his case a lot easier.

He gave lying a shot. "What? No!"

Pedro hoped you didn't notice that his voice pitched an octave. It was too obvious.

Really, you thought it was cute how flustered he got. For a man directing adult films, you would never have guessed he would find trouble flirting.

You put on a pout and sighed heavily, drawing your hand up his chest to toy with the gold chain framing his thick neck.

"S'a shame. Had kinda hoped you made me do all those, 'cause you were jealous," mused you, feeling confident as you leaned closer and twirled the hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue danced along the line of his bottom lip as his eyes trailed down to where your chest revealed itself beneath the robe.

"Jealous, huh?"

You nodded, pulling back to tilt his chin up so that you caught his eyes. It seemed as if though that had darkened, his pupils had dilated and you felt his cock had grown too.

"Wanted to know 'f it was 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

The coy smirk grew. "That somethin' ya want?"

"Dont know yet," you shrugged.

Pedro closed the space between you.

"Lemme help you find out."

His lips were crashing against yours the next second, rough and passionate, hungry and needy.

You moaned into his mouth as you felt him slip down the robe and as it pooled at your feet, you were about to trip backwards. He didn't let you and in a swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around him.

The feeling of his restrained member made you all the more excited, and as he maneuvered you over to the set you had been coming on a little earlier, you keenly pulled him with you, eager to finally have him.

You couldn't shake the thought of him limiting your scenes. Had it been anyone else, who had done it out of personal interest, you would have been furious.

Pedro had noticed the way your moans had changed recently. When you played with yourself, made yourself come, your cries had become much more authentic, less of a performer, more of an aroused insatiable woman. He couldn't help but strive to make you sing for him, make you writhe, and make you beg for him to stop while simultaneously keeping his hand in place because you would fucking kill him if he dared cease.

He didn't want those pornographic sounds you offered the mic, he wanted those greedy moans to tear through your throat as orgasm after orgasm ripped from your body.

The kisses are wet with tongues and teeth clashing, but it doesn't matter because as the pad of his index runs through your slit, every thought disintegrates in your mind and your brain becomes mush.

"So sensitive for me, baby. Pussy sore from working so hard for me?"

"Hmpff..." you mewled, acrylics clawing at his back as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck.

"Ya done so good for me, baby—you gonna lemme take care of ya, hm?"

You whined as Pedro's finger delved into you, the curious tip exploring and prodding at your walls. The combination of being touched by someone you wanted so badly as well as his significantly girthier finger made you gasp in a lower pitch, unlike that factitious moan his so-called "stars" had elicited from you.

It made him rock hard, hearing that genuine sound sputtering from your lips like you couldn't contain it.

He drew your slick through your folds, steadying your hips with his enormous hands as you began to squirm.

"Lie still, pretty baby," Pedro tsked, a devious smirk complimenting his face, and before you could protest he lapped his tongue through the wetness that had pooled between your legs.

Another moan, this untamed and frustrated, a whimper turning into a growl while your hips bucked upward, aiming to catch his mouth completely.

But he insisted—he was going to show you just how devoted he was to making you feel good, better than you did yourself. Pedro wanted you to know he had been schooling himself with those films of you, taking notes to make sure he knew exactly what you liked, and even what you did not know you liked yet.

You cursed when he inserted two fingers. Pedro's tongue occupied your swollen clit in such a way that it left you wanting more of him.

"Pedro," you moaned but as he hooked you with a third finger, curling them against your spongy walls, carving you perfectly for his cock, your pleads were punched out into cries.

"'S fuckin' tight, baby—who'd a thought such a little slut whorin' her body out would 'ave such a tight little hole?"

Under different circumstances, you would have punched the man calling you a slut in his teeth, but this, as Pedro claimed you, you found yourself desperate for the degrading behavior.

He pulled an orgasm from you before he allowed himself the pleasure of filling you with his cock, and as his member sprung free, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

A weeping head plastered on top of his thick, veiny girth, forged to perfectly destroy any woman.

It was almost sad to hide such a wonder from the cameras.

Pedro chuckled, cooking his brow, "impressed yet?"

Just to fuck with him, you put on an indifferent demeanor and turned on your stomach, pushing a pillow down under your stomach. He certainly didn't require an ego boost.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

His hands felt so perfectly hot on your hips when he dragged your ass closer to him, propping you on your knees and slotting himself by your entrance.

You expected him to ram straight up into you and wanted to fucking cry when he merely dragged his mushroom head along your folds, collecting your slick in a fine mixture with his precum.

"Pedro," you whined in a bated breath. "Fuck me already—"

And there it was the merciless fucking. He bottomed out only to smash back into you, heavy balls slapping against your cunt with every thrust.

The sudden movement made your knees buckle beneath you and you were back on your stomach.

The new position did not seem to face Pedro as he continued to plunge into you from behind. If anything it allowed you to feel him even deeper, a bulge hitting the deepest spot possible making you sob into the pink Care Bear.

"Mmpff—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Pedro caught your wrists in a harsh grasp, holding them steady on the small of your back to stop you from clawing desperately at him.

"'S the matter, baby? Didn't my guys fill ya up this good, huh?" It came out like a growl and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You couldn't help but love the way he called his pornstars his "guys" like he was some creep who had taken you prisoner, the sole purpose of your kidnapping being that you should be fucked day-in-day-out by him and all his ravenous men.

Pedro grasping at the roots of your hair, forcing you to bend back just enough for him to see your fucked-out expression, pulled you from your fantasy.

"Asked you a question, baby."

For the first time, the pet name sounded less affectionate; way too menacing to be loving as the cruel grip on your hair loosened, only to force your face down into the mattress.

"No, no, no!" you cried, barely able to form a proper sentence between his ruthless thrusts. "Ff-uck! Never felt this good!"

Pedro chuckled and abandoned his hold on you, his arm snaking under your body to skillfully locate your clit, deft fingers beginning a dance. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, heating up as you neared your release.

Pedro emitted a sound, something between a growl and a moan, as he felt your pussy clench so nicely around his cock. Feeling your cunt choking his cock, he gave you one command in that cocksure tone.

Fucking you through yours, he slipped into his orgasm as you practically squeezed it out of him. His brutal pace faltered only when he pulled out and as you mourned the loss in your throbbing cunt, you hastily rolled to greet him with your tongue rolled out for him to paint.

His jaw hang ajar, eyes dazed as he watched you hungrily await his seed. With a few more pumps Pedro coated your face in hot velvety strings.

He leans back on his haunches, admiring his masterpiece for a minute or so. He wanted to take a picture of you so badly. If Pedro asked, you would probably say "yes", but there was something about this moment—this was your moment, something just for the two of you.

Pedro muttered something to himself, something you didn't quite catch between your frenzied phase and the buzzing in your ears.

"Huh?" you hummed, looking so not innocent batting your come-coated lashes at him.

His large hand catches your jaw in such an affectionate manner it made your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. Just then, for a second or two, Pedro looked as if he was about to say three very specific words. He didn't.

Instead, he shook his head and cupped your sticky cheek as he planted an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your forehead, before moving away — to get towels for the mess he had made (you were equally responsible) — murmuring with a small chuckle, "ya gonna fuckin' ruin me, baby."

[ghostfacd]

LACY — QUINN HUGHES43

“smart, sexy lacy, i’m losing it lately.”

listen to olivia rodrigo’s lacy for better experience!

summary; you have always been insecure of quinn’s girl best friend, so what do you do? you swallow it down. it wasn’t until the jealousy started to eat you up that everything explodes all at once, and what comes out of it was never something you’d expect.

pairing; quinn hughes x fem!reader, implied oc x fem!reader

genre; angst, midlife crisis arc goes hard! reader gets massive self realization, lots of commentary (you see through reader’s brain with this one) quinn is confusing, everybody’s so confusing

Would it be mean for you to say you didn’t really like Quinn’s friend? Sure, she was one of his best friends and made sure to always compliment you whenever you were in close proximity. But why couldn’t you just like her?

Lacy Willers. According to Quinn, she had gone to Umich with him and they became inseparable after he accidentally fell asleep during class because he had ended hockey practice late and stayed up doing his assignments. He woke up with zero notes in his computer and had awkwardly asked the girl next to him, Lacy Willers, for help.

Lacy Willers was beautiful, inside and out. She was sweet to you, always keeping her distance with Quinn and respecting your boundaries as his girlfriend. She had long blonde hair before dying it brunette because according to her “YN looks so pretty brunette, I wanted to try it out.”

How could anyone hate her?

Her skin was like puff pastry, and you hated how perfect Lacy seemed to be. You just wanted one reason. One good reason to hate Lacy and not hate yourself for doing so.

“Babe?”

The voice of Quinn makes you snap out of your trance.

“What’s up Quinny?” You ask, shooting him a smile so he wouldn’t notice what was up.

“Are you still going to my game?”

Ah right. Quinn’s game. Shit—you had been so wrapped up in your thoughts these past few days that you seemingly forgotten all about it.

“YN..”

“No no, I’m going Quinn!” You reassure him, “don’t worry. I’ll get all my assignments in by then so I can go to your game.”

Quinn gives you one of his small smiles, the smiles that is only reserved for you.

Or does he give them to Lacy too?

“You okay?”

Curse Quinn’s big brother instincts. He always knew when you were feeling down, and you hated it.

“I’m fine Q,” you say, standing up to kiss him on his cheek. He’s so cute, you sometimes wonder what you did in your past life to deserve someone like Quinn.

“Okay,” Quinn doesn’t seem so sure of your answer but he doesn’t push. If there’s one thing about Quinn is that he knows his limits. He pulls, not push.

When Quinn’s game comes by, you find yourself sitting next to Lacy Willers and the youngest Hughes, Luke.

You excuse yourself for a few minutes, needing a breath of fresh air. Even past the seats, Lacy’s perfume lingers through the air. You swear that you see her everywhere.

When you come back, you see Lacy with her hand on Quinn’s back, a bright smile exchanged between them.

A knot forms in your stomach.

“YN! Hi!” Lacy waves you over, “Quinnier here made a winning goal last minute!”

Oh Lacy, it was like you were out to get me.

“Really?” Your face brighten up, eyes looking up to meet Quinn’s. In the corner of your eye, you see his hold on Lacy’s waist, but you don’t say anything, too tired to overthink or accidentally start a fight.

The familiar toss of keys and the turning on of the lights seem suffocating to you. You had no idea what was wrong with you. Quinn was a great boyfriend, Lacy was nice, so why does it feel like you can’t breathe?

“Lacy asked me to ask you if you wanted to have a girls night with her.” Quinn mentions as he takes a bite of his peach.

“Lacy asked you to ask me?”

“That’s what I said, baby.”

You don’t know why you feel so nervous. Lacy Willers asked you to have a girls night with her?

“I mean, yeah, I guess.” You shrug. Quinn throws the seed of the peach he’d just finish into the trash, making his way towards you.

He wraps his arms around you—a all too familiar sight from when he previously had his arm around Lacy, and placed his hand on your head, pushing it slightly so he could place a kiss on it.

Saturday night. Girls night with Lacy. You were scared shitless.

You clear your throat, pushing away the negative thoughts. It’s just Lacy Willers. Umich Lacy. Quinn’s Lacy.

“Hi!” The excited voice of Lacy sends you into a spiral of emotions. She’s in a pretty white silk pajama set with little hearts all around. Her hair looks so naturally perfect that you wanna curl up and cry. Lacy Willers, without even trying, can already take your breath away.

Smart, sexy Lacy. You remembered Quinn mentioning how Lacy was a nursing major. She was good at the arts too, you knew as soon as you stepped in her living room and glanced at the portraits on the wall.

“So,” Lacy sits the both of you down, the beautiful smile of hers never leaving her face. “You okay? Did Quinn’s dumbass do something?”

Your eyes go wide, “no! What makes you think that?”

She laughs slightly, eyes genuine. “Call it.. girls instincts. But really, you can talk to me. I know we aren’t that close but I’d love to become closer. I mean, you’re beautiful and so kind, doing Quinn a charity case if you ask me.”

Although Lacy’s so genuine and her compliments would’ve made anyone else drop to their knees, they feel like bullets on skin.

“Well I don’t know, I just feel weird.” You say awkwardly. “Quinn’s great, don’t get me wrong.”

“Yeah,” Lacy wraps her hands around her hair, making a quick ponytail and grabbing a ribbon from her cabinet to tie it up with. “I get it.”

Ribbons in her hair. She looks as pretty as ever. Almost as if she was made of angel dust. Your stomach is all in knots.

That night you slept on the bed fort Lacy had made, your heart thumping in your chest. Even in your dreams, Lacy Willers is there.

“How was the sleepover babe?” Quinn asks, placing a kiss on your head. He shoots a smile at Lacy who smiles shyly at him.

“It was good,” you say, looking between the two. It was as if they spoke to each other with their eyes, a language you didn’t understand.

“Quinn,” you say as soon as Lacy says her goodbye after dropping you off, clearing your throat.

“Yeah?”

“Have I told you I haven’t been feeling well lately?”

Quinn’s eyes shift to concern, his eyebrows furrowed. “You okay babe? Is it the flu?”

He reaches to feel your forehead, searching for a burning sensation, but to his surprise, you seem perfectly fine temperature wise.

“No, it’s not that.” You say.

It’s never been that. It has never been about you being jealous of Lacy being close to Quinn. It’s never been about you being scared she was gonna take him away from you.

It’s always been about Lacy. Smart, pretty, kind Lacy Willers. The girl who made your stomach turn in knots and your words into stutters.

Lacy Willers, the girl you seem to loathe lately. The girl that poisons your mind and everything that you do.

The girl who made you despise your own eyes for how hard they fell for her.

Lacy Willers, the girl you’re in love with.

[lovelytsunoda]

the cozy collection 2024

a collection of cozy fall-themed stories about our favorite drivers and assorted other characters!

for me, fall is synonymous with cozy university campuses and autumn colours, so expect college aus. additionally, expect the unexpected, as I’m a lover of halloween and am using that spooky energy to expand into grander projects than I ever have before.

shadows of the night | oscar piastri | smau

hiding in self-imposed exile after very publicly trashing bill skarsgaard's 'the crow' remake, horror final girl casper coolidge chances finding love, and returning to the spotlight

the scaredy-cat support group | logan sargeant | slice of life, comedy

after being dragged to see the scariest movie of the season, y/n is delighted that the blond next to her seems to be just as scared as she is

the sixth sense | jake “hangman” seresin | romance, supernatural, comedy

after a car accident leaves her with the ability to see ghosts, a police desk sergeant tries to adapt to life while managing her crush on the sexy pilot that lives across the street

heart to hot to hold | clement novalak | college au, romance, coming of age

breakfast club au about a group of college student stuck on campus over reading week and bonding over how bizarre they all are.

chateau (feel alright) | kyle kirkwood | college au, romantic

you’ve heard of only one bed, now get ready for only one blanket, in the middle of a campus-wide blackout.

from gas to solid | charles leclerc | smau

octoberfest is not for the weak. or those who have never seen one unfold before.

tbd | alex albon | comedy, slice of life

 “Put the chocolate bar down, i thought i told you those were for the kids!” 

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher | smut, romance

It’s flannel season and you look like a sexy lumberjack and it’s ✨ doing things ✨

the puppy bowl. | lance stroll | comedy, slice of life, satire

you misunderstood, this is a puppybowl party, we don’t do sports in this house

[changbinsboiledegg]

Girl your skz "another member walks in" reactions gave me intense Changbin brainrot and I need a full thing but where his gf is feeling insecure about herself so he fucks her and doesn't let her cum until she repeats the praises and compliments he tells her 🤤🥰🥰

No because why does he seem like the type?? Insecure?? Nope. Not on Changbin's watch. Also, in case no one told you told Anon; you horny mf. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :,)

AFAB! reader x SKZ Changbin.

MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI. MDNI!!!!!!!!

Warnings: Insecure reader, issues with body/self image, SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. Explicit, swearing, petnames, praise kink, edging?, cum lol, creampie, unprotected seggs, usage of the word 'dick' because I was scared to write 'cock'. Maybe a little dirty talking? I feel like I'm forgetting smth but y'all get the gist.

Note: Please don't blacklist me lmao I'm only here to provide for anons and smut readers alike. Longer than I intended but I don't think y'all care lol. Anyways, ily, I hope you enjoy, and I'm going to log out for a day because I'm nervous. And obviously if smut makes you uncomfortable, SKIP. any grammar/typos, look away 🫶 I tried.

btw, Changbin is my ult lol. Okay adios.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

You tried on way too many outfits within the past ten minutes. Each one leaving you with a sinking heart and a frown that grew the more you overthought how you looked.

You felt yourself on the verge of tears from the frustration. You and Changbin were supposed to go out on a date later that night and nothing looked right on you. The insecurities were eating you alive and you even went as far as to think, ‘why is he with someone like me?’

“Baby?” You knew Changbin was coming over but you lost track of time. He saw you frowning in disgust at yourself in the mirror, noticing the glint in your eyes from the tears about to give out.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Changbin wrapped his arms around you.

“Why are you with me? I can’t even make an outfit look good on me! People are going to see me with you and wonder why you’re with someone so—”

“Nope. No. No. Stop that. Look at me.” Changbin’s tone was stern, turning you around to face him.

“You are beautiful, gorgeous, a Goddess. If you don’t think these outfits look good on you, then it’s the outfits fault.” He started, lifting a hand to your cheek and wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs.

“If you need me to take your shopping for outfits that won’t make you feel like this, I will. But Just know that I think you could make literal trash look sexy.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his statement, now wiping your own tears. You looked back at the mirror again, feeling your heart sink. “But—”

“Take off this dress.”

“What?” You were taken aback by his interruption. Changbin stood firm where he was, crossing his arms as he looked at you in the mirror. ”Take off the dress. I want to show you something.”

You did as he said, slowly peeling off the dress that didn’t make the cut. Letting it fall to the floor, you were left in just your bra and panties.

Changbin slightly smirked, placing his hands on your shoulders and leaning close to your ear from behind. “See? It is not you making these outfits look bad.”

You glanced away from the mirror, still feeling insecure in your skin. You wished he wouldn’t stare so much, not wanting him to see what you saw. But at the same time, you felt good feeling his eyes roam your body.

“Don’t look away. I’m not done yet.” Changbin regained your attention. You reluctantly looked at yourself, waiting to see what he was trying to show you. You guaranteed that it wouldn’t work.

His hands trailed down your back and to the clasp of your bra, unclasping it and pulling it off.

You were still left in your panties as his hands reached around to cup your breasts, gently massaging them.

“So gorgeous. How could you ever think otherwise?” Changbin huskily whispered, pecking the side of your neck near your jaw.

“No, I’m not—”

“Yes. You are.” He moved his hands down your stomach and to the front of your panties. He noticed you looking away and stopped right at the band. ”Look.” He whispered again, pressing himself against you from behind. You looked back at yourself, feeling his hard erection poking you.

“Do you think I would be this hard for someone I didn’t think looked this fucking gorgeous?” He kissed your neck again, moving his hands to clasp the sides of your panties before pulling them down to your ankles. He stood back up and moved his hand back down to your sensitive, wet clit.

“You’re so beautiful, already ready for me? You feel good when I tell you the truth, don’t you?” He smirked smugly as he rubbed circles around your clit.

You elicited a moan, biting your lip as his touched made you shudder. Changbin paused, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer me.”

“…Yes… I feel good when you compliment me.” You replied in a pleading tone, wanting him to continue. Changbin kissed your neck again.

“You agree that you’re beautiful?” Changbin watched your face in the mirror, waiting for your answer. You hesitated.

Changbin slowly retracted his hand.

“No! Wait… please keep going.” You begged. Changbin clicked his tongue, “Do you agree?”

“Yes! Please?”

“What are you agreeing on?” Changbin quizzed, his hand still not budging. You squirmed but he wrapped his other arm around your waist.

“I’m… I’m…” You couldn’t say it. Changbin waited a few seconds before pulling away from you.

“Beautiful! I’m… beautiful.” You said, feeling a bit awkward— but desperate. Changbin smiled, putting his hands on your waist and guiding you down to the floor and pushing you on all fours.

“You sound so sexy complimenting yourself. You should do it often.” Changbin trailed his hands down your spine and stopping at your hips, gently squeezing them.

“So sexy.”

He took his hands off of you and when you looked in the mirror, seeing how you looked in this position, you also saw Changbin undressing himself. He kicked the clothing away from his immediate surroundings and kneeled down behind you. He was so close that you could feel his hard dick laid on your ass.

“Now, I know you want me inside of you but only if you look at yourself in the mirror and if you repeat after me. Got it, baby?” Changbin stroked himself in slow motions as he used his free hand to spread your legs apart more.

“Oh… Okay… I can do that.” Your eyes flickered to yourself, digging your nails into the carpet a little. You couldn’t help but look at Changbin, though.

“Look at you. Not me.” His stern tone came out again, sliding the head of his dick inside of you. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“Yes!” You answered quickly, trying to focus on yourself. He was watching your face. Your eyes specifically. He knew when and where you were looking.

“Good.” He slid into your wet hole, gripping your hips to pull you closer as he filled you up and stretched you out.

“Don’t you agree that you’re stunning?” He paused, not daring to thrust yet but you felt his dick twitching inside of you.

You wanted more. He definitely wanted more.

But you hesitated. Changbin slowly inched himself out of you.

“Yes.” You caught yourself looking away from your face before quickly staring at yourself again. Changbin, satisfied, snapped his hips forward, sending himself pounding into you.

You covered your mouth, not daring to look away from the mirror as his thrusts were so powerful, the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, groans, and whimpers that emitted from both of you.

Changbin’s grip on your hips tightened as he grunted, “come on, baby. Don’t cover your mouth. Let me hear how good you feel, gorgeous.”

You slapped your hand against the carpet as your walls clenched around his dick, earning a groan as he threw his head back. Your legs felt like goo, knowing you made him feel like that.

His pace continued before abruptly stopped and feeling you pulsate around his length.

“Ah-ah. Don’t close your eyes. You need to watch how good you take it.” He reached a hand to your shoulder for more leverage. You slowly opened your eyes, whimpering from the pleasure and the need to cum.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make.” He commented in a low whisper, thrusting into you again, only this time he went deeper, harder, and even a little faster.

You weren’t sure which of you were more needy.

“You’re so beautiful.” Changbin watched you in the mirror. Your moans became louder the closer your were about to orgasm.

You almost forgot what he said about repeating him when he stopped abruptly.

“I’m-I’m beautiful…” You repeated. He continued.

“A literal Goddess— Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned. His thrusts getting faster.

You grit your teeth, trying not to close your eyes as you felt yourself about to let go any minute now. It made your eyes water, but as you looked at yourself being fucked by him, you started to like how you looked.

“I’m a-a Goddess!” You bit your lip, only to moan louder. Changbin smirked, loving the way you were complimenting yourself— finally.

“That’s good, baby, keep doing that.” He cooed, He was satisfied. He was able to take your mind off of your insecurities and seeing you like this, writhed and moaning as he took you from behind? That was one of his favorites sights. “I’m so proud of you, beautiful.”

You were about to cum, feeling your walls contract and clench around him, hearing his groans and moans from the feeling of you on the edge.

You felt euphoric, keeping your eyes on the mirror and trying not to close them because you didn’t want him to stop. But then you did.

Changbin knew it was an involuntarily reaction— that you couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes.

He continued, feeling himself about to cum after you. He wanted you to watch yourself cum though.

“Open your eyes, look. Don’t you agree you look pretty cumming?” Changbin was breathing heavily, almost panting as he kept his pace. You forced your eyes open, screaming out from your orgasm as you were cumming.

“Pretty, right? So fucking pretty.” Changbin felt his own orgasm wash over him and you continued to take him, smirking as you watched him in the mirror as he started to fall apart inside of you.

“Very pretty.” You commented, watching as he clenched his jaw and filled you to the brim with cum. He almost collapsed on top of you, had you not been on all fours.

He regained his composure and pulled out as cum dripped out of your hole seconds after.

“You did amazing as usual.” Changbin complimented as you had turned and sat, facing him. You were barely catching your breath.

“I could say the same for you.” Your smirk was still on your face, just as satisfied as he was. “Thank you for…” You paused, thinking of how to word your sentence.

“Thank you.” You settled, feeling a lot less insecure than you did before. Changbin smiled.

“Of course. I will always be here to remind you of how amazing you are.”

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 5

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Part 5 of 7. 4232 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack.

Authors Note: We're almost to the end here y'all! How we doing? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

“So, uh, you’re a Junior?” Steve’s words break the silence.

Eddie, who is laid out flat on his back, staring at the ceiling flinches in answer, his voice small. “No, I’m not.” Not technically. 

“Oh, I just, I thought…” Steve tries to press, but Eddie cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear it. “It’s just a nickname.” 

“Just a nickname.” Steve repeats, voice laced with doubt.

“They don’t have those in Italy?” Eddie cuttingly replies. 

At which point Steve sits up and turns to glare at Eddie. “What’s your problem, man?” 

Eddie shrinks under his gaze, frowning unhappily as he mutters back. “Nothing.” Unconvincingly.

Steve purses his lips at that, and presses on. “Did I strike a nerve? Is it a sore spot for you?”

“Ohhhhh. I’m sorry. That question is not in the binder.” Eddie replies with a halfhearted little chuckle.

“Oh, really? I thought you were the one that said we needed to learn everything about—“ Steve starts but Eddie shakes his head. “Not about that I didn’t.” 

“But-“ Steve protests.

“Not about that, Steve. Good night.” He snaps. Regrets it when Steve flinches.

Unsure how to fix it, he stews in silence, breathing deeply, trying to come up with something. Thoughts going around and around.

He’s properly kicked himself for the whole interaction at least four times by the time Steve speaks again, his voice timid, words totally unexpected as they break the silence that had settled awkwardly over the two men sharing a bed.

“I like watching The Real Housewives.” He volunteers quietly, interrupting Eddie’s thoughts with his unprompted reveal.

“Huh?” Eddie answers in confusion, eyes still fixated upwards.

“Not in the ‘haha, isn’t that funny, he likes that trash’ kind of way. I actually quite enjoy it.” Steve murmurs back, fiddling with the blanket pulled up to his chest. 

Still confused, Eddie takes it in as Steve continues, “I took ballroom dance lessons in the sixth grade…My first concert was Bob Seger and the Silver bullets…” 

Clears his throat. “I think Kirk Hammett is sexy…My first kiss with a girl was with Carol Perkins when I was thirteen. Later that same year I also kissed Tommy Hagan. They’re married now.” 

Eddie laughs in bewilderment. 

“Never had a pet.” Steve glances at Eddie, who isn’t looking back at him, which makes it easier for him to say what he wants to say next. ”The tattoo I wanted to remove?” He asks, humming, “I got it on my ribs because I wanted it to hurt. It’s in Italian - verso cose più grandi. It means ‘Toward greater things.’ I got it after my parents disowned me.”

There’s another silent pause before he continues “I haven’t…slept with anyone in…over a year and a half. And uh…I went to the bathroom and cried after Billy suggested that I was going to die alone.” 

Eddie pulls the blanket tighter around him, the statement unexpectedly tearing straight to his heart when Steve adds. “That’s my biggest fear. Or, it was.” He stammers. “Lately I’ve been much more afraid of-” he cuts himself off. Squeezes his eyes shut. Leaving the words unspoken.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. A few more beats go by. 

Eddie thinks he may be all out of revelations, until, in the softest voice possible, he whispers another confession that shocks Eddie to his core. “I’m uh, I’m losing my hearing.” 

To which Eddie’s head finally shoots over to look at him, his jaw slack. 

“I haven’t told anyone that. For obvious reasons.” Not meeting his eye, Steve clears his throat. 

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice breaks. He had been coordinating this man’s entire life and he’d had no idea. None. 

“It’s been gradual but - yeah. Too many concussions.” He explains with a dry chuckle. “I’ve had it checked out. Gotten a second and third opinion. It’s not a matter of if at this point, uh, it’s just a matter of when.”

He glances at the ceiling. “I guess you didn’t know. I thought you might suspect…all the emailing lately. The transcriptions I have you write up of my meetings…And then, there’s been a difference in the music. Comments you’ve made on the stuff I used to produce. How it was good. Past tense. I had more confidence in my abilities then…I didn’t rely so heavily on projections and numbers and all that bullshit that spells sales, yes, but good music?” He almost smiles. “It’s not the same. You’re right. Try as I might to fill in the gaps - experiencing the way the music feels…”

He gives a little shake of his head. “It’s not the same. And still, I couldn't do a thing without you. You, who are so loud about your opinions of the demos that artists send me when they’re worthwhile, or they’re garbage and I - I trust you.” He admits, the most damning admittance of all.

“You um. You know good music. And you know me. You’ve always been able to see me more clearly than I - than I’ve liked.” He stops. Swallows thickly, voice low again, and reserved. “I’m sure there are many, many, other things, but that’s all I can come up with right now.” 

Eddie rolls back over in the bed, and clenches his eyes closed as Steve finishes.

It’s silent for a bit.

“Eddie?” Steve broaches finally, his shaky voice attributing to his vulnerability in the moment they’re sharing. “You, uh, you there?”

“I’m here.” Eddie promises softly, “Just - just processing.” 

That was one way of explaining it. How his world has been tilted off of its axis. Left him fumbling for his footing, unsure.

This was unexpected. 

Even Steve, as he’d clearly hated opening up to Eddie, he’d done so. Given him much more to work with than the surface level things Eddie already knew. This was a deeper intimacy than just knowing if his stove was gas or electric, and Eddie is…lost with it.

Still, he knows how to ease the tension, if nothing else. He slowly starts to smile, probing, “You really haven’t slept with anyone in almost two years?”

Steve snorts. “That’s what you got out of all of that?” 

“That’s a long time.” Eddie defends himself.

“Yeah, well, firstly, you’re rounding up, and secondly, I’ve been a little busy.” Steve sarcastically answers. 

Eddie chuckles, and then there’s silence again between them. 

It’s comfortable, until, “Who’s Bob Seger?” Eddie suddenly asks. Steve sits up in his bed like a vampire exiting a coffin.

“Who’s Bob Seger?” Steve questions. “You - you know.” He starts singing in a surprisingly good voice, “You take those old records off the shelf - I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself. Today's music ain't got the same soul. I like that old time rock 'n' roll.” Steve grimaces. “You’re telling me that you work in the music industry, and you don’t know who Bob Seger is?” 

Eddie’s smiling. “I was kidding…I just wanted to hear you sing.” 

Steve whacks him with a pillow, both of them giggling until they settle back into the bed, silence filling the room once again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks him.

“Yes?” He replies.

Eddie gives it a beat - then changes his mind. “Thank you, for telling me.”

Steve lets out a little laugh through his nose. “Yeah…well.”

Eddie figures he owes him his truth, for the interview if nothing else. “And for what it’s worth…They call me Junior for my dad, Al…Spitting image, you know? Chip off the old block…The acorn that didn’t fall far or whatever it is you want to call it.” He chuckles humorlessly. 

Goes on, “I’d never really liked it when they said that but, uh, less so now.” Steve listens, lets Eddie talk, watching his lips move. Eddie is louder than he probably needs to be, out of consideration for Steve. “A couple years back he cooked up this scheme - I should have known better, really, but what he promised it was just - so tempting. So I got involved and it - it got real dicey. People got hurt. The house burned down, all mom’s records just - gone.” Eddie exhales. “He took off to save his own ass and uh, I haven’t seen him since. He didn’t bother coming back for me.”

Steve’s heart breaks for Eddie - who continues on with his explanation like it’s all well and good now, like it didn’t permanently alter him and his own personal Munson Doctrine. “I was supposed to move to California, but after the fallout, I had to stay a bit. After everything I put Wayne through, I had to stay a bit. And he - Al - he knew how to find me in California so I…I moved to New York instead, and now, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Steve chuckles. Thinking about the insanity of it all.

But, he also knows how to ease the tension. “None of that was on your job application, by the way.” He teases.

Eddie chortles. “Steve, you have to know by now that everyone lies on their resume.”

Steve glares at him. “You had glowing references!”

“I found those names and phone numbers online, sans the proper extensions, and figured you’d probably never actually bother to call them.” He snickers.

Steve gives a faux gasp. “You lured me in under false pretenses.”

“Sure did. And now you’re marrying me. Sucker.” Eddie laughs. Steve laughs too,  feeling a slight hitch in his throat.

“I…I don’t know if I properly apologized for that yet.” Steve supplies, ruining the light jovial moment with harsh realities.

Eddie winces. “No need.”

“There is a need though. Trapping you in this marriage I…I wish I hadn’t been so careless to let it come to this.” He sighs. Eddie sighs too, and doesn't berate Steve for his own negligence and mistakes. Which Steve appreciates.

“Well, it’s like you said, I’m yours now. Come hell or high water, til quickie divorce do us part.” He smiles, like Steve isn’t laying here trying to recover from Eddie calling himself his. 

“Sure.” Steve says weakly, and Eddie gives him a little nudge with his foot. 

“What’s done is done…and you know, for what it’s worth, I’m actually getting a pretty good deal out of this. A record deal. With a hot albeit temporary husband to parade around town, so…”

And Steve knows he’s attractive. He does. Has never doubted it, but to hear it from Eddie, when he’s complacent in all of their scheming…It messes him up a little. He gives a weak laugh at Eddie’s words, because it’s what’s expected of him, even as he’s reeling.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie says then, like it was nothing. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I want to see how your studying is going.” 

Right. Studying. For the interview. An impending deadline they were steadily marching towards, and their true goal, regardless of whatever…this was.

Steve nods, and Eddie says, “Night, Steve.” softly.

Steve’s answering voice is hollow.  “Buona notte, Eddie.”

Upon their return to New York, Steve is feeling deeply unsettled.

Not because of the ruse - that, in itself, remains as solid as ever. 

Through a warm goodbye with Wayne and a cozy plane ride home, Eddie had played the part perfectly. A doting fiancé who wore his love on the outskirts of his sleeve.

But now, they were back, the honeymoon was over, so to speak, and Eddie was already back to himself again. A doting employee.

He runs over the list of things Steve needs to know for work the next day, and asks Steve what he needs from him, willing to give and give and give.

Steve tries not to wince. “You’re off the clock for now.” He tells him, to Eddie’s utter confusion. “Seriously.” He swears. “Get some rest. There’s nothing so important we can’t tackle tomorrow morning.”

So Eddie, in his cute band shirt and dark wash jeans, had taken his own car home. Probably unpacked. Probably ate something without guilt, played his guitar, took a nap - something fucking normal, while Steve went home, to his big empty apartment, alone.

Well not, totally empty.

“Dingus.” A female voice calls out affectionately as he walks through the door.

Rather than being disturbed by the intruder in his home, Steve’s shoulders slump in relief.

Robin Buckley - his best friend, wielder of a spare key, and the only person in the world who was privy to the inner workings of Steve’s mind - somehow always knows when he needs her.

She’s dressed well, smiling from the bar stool at his kitchen island with one of his fancy waters to sip on as his doorman deposits his bags inside, Steve passing him some cash before he goes.

As soon as he has that business settled, he’s falling into Robin's arms, almost crushing her in his encompassing hug.

“Woah!” She laughs. “It hasn’t been that long. Just a week.” Referring of course to her own trip - the one she’d disappeared on before this whole mess had gotten underway.

Steve gives a head shake in any case. “That’s like forever,” he whined as she laughed some more, ruffling his hair. Giving him a once over. 

Clocking immediately that something is wrong. “Why the dark cloud, Stevie?”

He makes a face. Trying not to cry. She gets a brief flicker of panic across her face. “Oh no.” She says immediately. “Who do I need to kill?”

He wheezes out a laugh, and then, against his better judgment - involves Robin in his crimes as well. Because why not her too, on top of Eddie? Why not ruin everything he touches, like he always has. Because he’s bullshit - his love is bullshit - he…

“So…you like him. Your assistant.” Robin says finally, before he can fully spiral.

Steve nods pitifully. 

“But you can’t tell him, because of the…current arrangement. And the blackmail, not to mention the work relationship you have - holy shit Steve this is so inappropriate-” she rambles.

Steve moans. “I know.”

“Well, does he like you back?” Robin suddenly asks. Steve glares at her. “Robin, please, be serious.”

“I am serious!” She defends. “You said things changed while you were out there, right? What if it wasn’t just one sided.”

“That could never happen.” Steve bites.

Robin huffs. “Why not?”

“Because he’s…good, Rob. He’s so fucking good, and sweet…And fucking, down to earth. And I’m…not.” His lip quivers. 

Robin grasps his hand. “Steve…”

“There’s no way he could ever like me. This is just a…a helpless situation I’ve put him in, that he’s making the best of.” He leaves no room for argument. “I just…I had to tell you. Had to hear you say all of that. To remind me. You’re right. You’re right, and it’s fine. It’s just a stupid crush. I’ll get over it.”

Robin doesn’t look like she believe him. Which is…fair. What she says next is not.

“Or…” she starts. Steve raises an eyebrow. “Or?” He presses.

She sort of smiles, “Or you could…woo him.”

“Woo him?” Steve gapes.

“Well yeah!” She defends. “So long as your plan is to end this boss-employee dynamic, why not try and keep him? You’re pretty likable when you’re not a raging bitch. I don’t see why he would be impervious to your…charms.” She snickers.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, tries to keep her words from invading his brain. “That’s insane.”

“Why? Because you might actually end up being happy?” She stares him down. “You deserve to be happy, Steve.”

“Not like this. Not at his expense.” Steve argues firmly. 

Robin only sighs. “Just think about it, will you? Start small. Get to know him. Treat him like a person, instead of…whatever it is you do.”

Steve grimaces. Robin sits back in her seat, swinging her legs, casually adding, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Steve looks at her funny. “Meet him?” He asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Steve. That’s how this works - you meet his family - he meets yours - or has it been so long since you’ve done this that you forgot?”

He swats at her. “Shut up.”

She laughs, “I’m serious! He sounds wonderful, and he’s going to be Mrs. Harrington - we need his blessing to continue our Bitchin’ Brunches, and oh! Do you think he’ll do the marathon with us? It’s still pretty far out, we can get him a shirt made-”

Steve lets her go, talking aloud in circles while he gives responses where appropriate. Once they’re mercifully done discussing the whole thing with Eddie, they move on to her latest field research trip, and other important topics they’ve had stirring around in their brains while they’ve been apart.

It feels good, like he’s truly come home, a feeling Steve didn’t have when he thought he was returning to an empty apartment.

And with Robin in his corner, it feels like everything else will work itself out.

Steve approaches the subject of ‘Robin’ one morning a few days later while Eddie hands him an expense report.

He presents her as a fact of his life - nonnegotiable. Eddie isn’t nearly as perturbed as some of his romantic partners have been in the past - but then again, he and Eddie weren’t really romantic partners.

“Looking forward to meeting her.” Eddie replies. And Steve kinda hates that. How easily Eddie agrees to anything he asks. And it’s not Eddie’s fault, it’s his job, it’s why he was hired, but…

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent way too much time dwelling on Robin’s words.

And he yearns.

“Oh, and uh, one more thing…she knows.” Steve adds.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “She knows.” He repeats. Steve doesn’t like the look on his face, like he’s done something wrong.

“I…she saw right through me. In two seconds. I couldn’t lie to her. I can never lie to her…And it helps, kind of? She’ll corroborate our story. Someone in our lives had to have known, right? Even if it was a secret?” He rationalizes.

Eddie’s face is blank. “I guess.”

Steve is frustrated. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not.” He lies. Steve glares. His expression cracks. Eddie sighs, walking on eggshells and oh Steve hates that even more.

“It’s just…we laid the groundwork, swore no one knew and now there’s another layer to it. Another person whose answers need to match, more of this I need to coordinate and I just…it’s a lot.”

Steve deflates a bit. Want to apologize but instead offers a flat, “I get that.”

Eddie exaggeratedly perks up, handing him his highlighter, “Don’t worry about it, Steve. I will figure it out.”

He goes to exit the office. Steve feels like shit, calls out. “Eddie?”

The other man stops and turns around. Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry but, I need you this afternoon, after my meeting. We have to go to my apartment.”

Eddie doesn’t mind, he had to work this afternoon anyways. Nods dutifully. “Course,’ whatever you need.”

He heads out. Steve drops his head onto the desk, feeling pain starting behind his eyes, spreadsheets forgotten.

Eddie gets back to his work day - thinking nothing of Steve’s latest request for his time.

Since the engagement, Eddie has been pulled to and fro by him in a whirlwind, always insisting on Eddie being clocked in for it, even if their business is dubious at best. 

The other day he’d spent the morning with Steve at the bank and they opened a joint bank account, Steve flirting with him the whole time they were under the scrutiny of the tellers, crooning about how what was his was now Eddie’s too. Something that made Eddie’s eye twitch if he thought about it too hard.

Today it seems it will be more of the same. 

As instructed, after his boss’ noon meeting, Eddie finishes up everything he needs to do and meets Steve at his apartment.

Arriving promptly, he takes the elevator up to his floor, where Steve lets him in, greeting him warmly, as if this afternoon is a distant memory - and maybe it is, but still Eddie is wary - until he sees that they aren’t alone.

He looks at Steve for clarification as to why there’s another man here, and he doesn’t miss a beat, diplomatically introducing. “Eddie, this is Johnathan. Nancy’s boyfriend.” 

Eddie does a double take. “Nancy as in, Nancy Wheeler?” He asks.

Steve doesn’t sound happy about it, although he’s smiling. “Yes.” 

Eddie glances back at the other man, telling him. “Um, hello.” So as not to be rude.

“Hi.” Johnathan gives an awkward wave with one hand, his other setting down a mug of coffee onto a coaster that rests on Steve’s expensive coffee table.

Then Johnathan stands. “Now that you’re here, I’m gonna go finalize the set-up.” He disappears from the living room at his words, heading to another area of the penthouse.

Eddie watches him go before glancing at Steve with concern and asking “Why is your ex’s girlfriend’s boyfriend here, and what is he setting up?” 

“Johnathan’s a photographer.” Steve explains to him, begrudgingly admitting. “The best, actually.” 

Then his voice lowers as he continues. “He’s also discreet. No investigative prodding like you might get with his romantic counterpart.” The jab comes so naturally even as he bulldozes past it. 

“I figured, since we needed to take some pictures, that he would be a good bet.” Steve rubs the back of his neck.

“Pictures.” Eddie repeats.

“For the engagement announcement. Or…whatever else we might need them for.” He looks meaningfully at Eddie. “I thought we’d start with some formal staged pictures here? And then get some candid photos at our usual date spots?” 

Oh.

Eddie understands. “Right. Of course. And Johnathan is the best. Makes sense.”

Steve briefly looks exhausted before he carefully smoothes his face over. “I-I didn’t hear what you said. But, nod? If we’re good?” 

Eddie nods. 

Steve nods too. “Okay. Good. Uh, come with me, please.” 

Eddie can’t remember the last time Steve said ‘please’ to him…Actually, well, he’d gotten a sarcastic one with his proposal…but a genuine please? It’s…strange.

Nonetheless Eddie follows as Steve leads him to his office. Inside there are three racks of clothes tucked to the side. When Eddie goes to peruse through them, he’s surprised. “These are mine.” He says in confusion. 

Steve nods. “Your bandmate Gareth had a spare key.” Steve had made some calls. Some assumptions too, figuring if his best friend had full access, that maybe… “I though that authentic would be better.” 

Eddie takes him in for the first time then - his soft looking yellow pullover and jeans. Is this who he is? Authentically?

“I’ll make sure you have one of your own. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” Eddie tells him. Simple enough. This was the man he was supposed to marry - and if nothing else, con aside, there was trust between them. Steve had admitted that he trusted Eddie, and Eddie, in his own way, trusted Steve too.

Not to mention that Eddie had had unfettered access to Steve’s apartment for years. What was a little reciprocation, in light of that?

Eddie leaves it at that, attention elsewhere as he starts combing through the racks, sweetened by his getting to choose. Eventually he decides he wants to dress up, just a little bit. 

Settling on black once again, it’s a softer version of his usual style. 

A nice belt with a simple silver buckle, to accompany a pair of high waisted jeans that are free of rips or blemishes, and a shirt with a low cut that exposes his collarbones and some of the skin of his chest, a peak of a tattoo, the black fabric interrupted by an occasional floral pattern or rose composed of an orangish-red or cream color. 

Satisfied with his find - Eddie disappears to go change, before rejoining Steve, his hands fidgeting with his hair. 

“Up or down?” He asks, and Steve, who had been staring at him - lips parted - seems to snap out of it. Gesturing for Eddie to stay still before he steps into his personal bubble.

Hello.

He gently takes a handful of Eddie’s hair, winding and unwinding and unraveling it in and around his palms - before he manipulates it into a makeshift hairdo, trying to get a feel for whether it should be pulled out of Eddie’s face or left down.

“Hm…up. You have such a pretty neck.” Steve’s lips are hinting at a smile, and Eddie wishes he had chosen for him to leave it down - because said neck is currently flushing at the compliment and Eddie knows Steve can see it.

What the hell?

Then Eddie notices Johnathan, lingering in the doorway and pretending to still be adjusting his camera settings, and he feels as though he’s had his veins dipped in ice water.

Right. This wasn’t real. Steve didn’t really like his neck or find him pretty. It was all a performance. 

And Eddie’s a performer. He can do this. Playing along, he grins back at Steve, showing too much teeth. “You know your sweet talking gets me all riled up, big boy.”

Steve looks…elated. “You promise?”

Jesus H. Christ.

A weak chuckle, and Eddie bats him away before gathering his hair in his own hands, pulling it up high, trying to sort the smaller pieces into something artfully messy.

Steve lingers, fingers twitching like he wants to intervene, but lets him be, still looking at Eddie even as he angles his body and asks Johnathan, “Where do you want us?”

Series Masterlist Next Part: Part 6 Previous Part: Part 4

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Idk if you’ve ever watched euphoria but if you have can you write aot boys falling for a girl with a personality like Maddy from euphoria?

tw: implied nsfw for some

eren jaeger thinks that they way you act is obnoxious. he thinks you're too self righteous. he talks trash on you one day to armin and armin says that he always thought you reminded him of eren. he's a little nicer to you after that.

armin arlert doesn't think that you're bossy or manipulative. he thinks you're incredibly smart and don't waste your time on little things. he does think that you could be a little nicer about things, though. despite that, he finds himself thinking about you late at night.

jean kirstein does think you're bossy and mean, unlike armin. he likes it more than he'd like to admit. he loves going head to head with you, pushing all your buttons and you, his. he wants to get you alone and see how bossy you really think you are.

connie springer is essentially devoted to you. 'there's nothing like a woman in charge' is what he always says to you. on a more serious note, he trusts you and your opinions, always finding you to be right.

zeke jaeger is all "yes, ma'am, no ma'am" when it comes to you. he listens to you but for the most part, he finds you amusing. the way everyone thinks you're the biggest bitch to walk this earth but you're actually quite sweet when he gets to know you. he pursues you intensely.

reiner braun loves you. he loves your attitude. sometimes, you remind him a little too much of ymir though. you do hurt his feelings quite often because, you know, he's sensitive.

bertholdt hoover won't say anything to you or to anybody else, but he isn't particularly your biggest fan. he tries to be friendly but eventually he gives up. your two personalities just don't make the recipe for a perfect friendship.

levi ackerman thinks he despises you but he doesn't. secretly, he thinks you're perfect for him. he doesn't find you as despicable as some other people do. he thinks you're confident and it's something he finds sexy.

erwin smith loves an opinionated woman. it's something he's always liked. he falls for you because you're strong. also probably, because he wants you to take control, but mostly the strong thing.

porco galliard needs someone like you, someone who will speak up for him. poor fucks too nice. he realizes he needs to be around you. he thinks he'd fall apart with out you.

click for my jean fanfiction

[absolutebl]

Hi ABL! I was wondering if you have recs for bl couples where a younger seme/top aggressively pursues an older, initially-unwilling uke/bottom?

I realized this trope was my absolute JAM when I fell hard and fast for Wei Zhiyuan x Wei Qian, Sun Boxiang x Lu Zhigang, and Yongjie x Xingsi. Bonus points for age gap, stepbrothers trope or the older uke being endlessly indulgent?

I mainly watch China and Taiwan bls, so I’ll love anything from there. I’ll take recs from other countries too, they might become my first foray into non-mandarin bls

I know this is a somewhat specific request so thank you sm if you manage to come up with anything! I really appreciate all the work you put into this blog ☺️💜

Oooo MY FAVORITE!!!

Hyung Romances! (wrap-up post)

I call these hyung romances because that's like noona romances but gay.

Specifically you said:

younger seme aggressively pursues an older initially-unwilling uke

I am utter TRASH for this! YES PLEASE!

Minato’s Laundromat

Japan 2022 GaGa 

AKA Minato Coin Laundry AKA Wash My Heart! AKA Minato Shouji Koin Randorii AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry

Younger seme older uke, very clearly yaoi derived dynamic, 10 year age gap. I love this show so much. This is by far the best long running example that really dwells on this trope, Shin is very much the aggressor also very much still a high school kid. Minato is very much NOT. 

Old Fashion Cupcake 

Japan 2022 Viki & GaGa 

Also from Japan, another 10 year gap, and a flipping genius version. This time both parties are older, so there’s less of a stigma around the age gap, but there is stigma about the one being the other’s boss. 

This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits for episode one. It’s about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said man with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s coming of age/queerness packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity and love and loneliness... and it’s beautiful. Full review. 

Lovely Writer

Thailand 2021 YouTube 

Sib is quite a bit younger than Gene and defines aggressive pursuer. Gene is out of university and established in his career, Sib is still in college.

Thailand criticizes itself and the BL industry while simultaneously giving us classic seme/uke with great chemistry in a one-two punch of “we love it, but are we supposed to? and must we think this hard, yet enjoy it SO MUCH?” This show won’t appeal or make sense to those who don’t already have at least some Thai BL watching experience. What Lovely Writer does, at heart, is reexamine Thai BL has done to queerness, but in a very gentle way that has more to do with Thai BL growing up than any actual queer authenticity. It’s not parody or pastiche, but it is self reflective and trying to correct for some chronic mistakes. Whether it is ultimately successful in this matter is going to depend on the watcher’s relationship to BL and queer identity. But that’s what makes this show beautiful, interesting, and thought provoking. And I, for one, applaud the effort even if I didn’t personally connect to the characters.

Oxygen

Thailand 2020 YouTube 

Thailand’s first real stab at this dynamic as a main couple and it so worked for me. There are many who find this BL too slow and wooden, but I loved it. 

I think of this as a paragon of Thailand’s softer BL style, since Oxygen uses every BL trope in the playbook for one of the gentlest lowest angst BLs ever made. This one showcases how far Thailand is moving BL from its yaoi roots, and is a prime example of the sweet “new BL” model for which Thailand is the main advocate (Korea is liking it a lot these days too, tho). My first watch along. 

SOTUS

Thailand 2016 YouTube 

Guess who started this trope in Thailand? Yeah, sometimes I forget too. But they are not just classic sunshine/tsunder but classic younger/older. Just not by much.

This is the BL that launched a hundred BLs. No literally, it was SOTUS’s international success that pretty much built the Thai BL industry into the juggernaut it is today. People have baggage around SOTUS, I have nostalgia. Trigger warning on bully hazing. Review here. 

En of Love: Tossera 

Thailand 2020 YouTube 

Younger boy wants to court older boy and does and… that’s it. No really that’s the WHOLE STORY. There is actually no angst, drama, or, indeed plot. But are they the softest bois ever to BL as a main couple? Yes they are.

*pulp warning*

Private Lessons

Korea 2020 GaGa 

A BL short from Strongberry that I love, it's age gap and teacher/student (catnip por moi). The chemistry is slightly off though, but stil I do love this one for the dynamic. Certainly worth watching especially if this is your trope since it's like 8 minutes long and very stylish.

MingKit MarkKit

2 Moons (VERY side dish) YouTube 2 Moons 2 YouTube (major side dish) Gen Y (leads) Gen Y 2 (sides again in LTR) 

Thailand’s premier version of this dynamic I just lumped them all into one category. Only in 2 Moons 2 are they played by different actors, otherwise it is all KimCop, and who can complain about that? If you want to watch specifically for this dynamic than go for Gen Y. Trash watch here. 

SIDE DISH CORNER

Not Me (DanYok)

DanYok is an age gap, but it isn’t really the point or the plot of their romantic arc

Don’t Say No (LeonPob) 

Leon and Pob qualify. That’s all I have to say about that. 

HIStory 3: the BL that shall not be named (BoXiang & ZhiGang)

Also appear in HIStory 4: Close to You

The side characters in H3:MODC (and cameos in H4) BoXiang & ZhiGang have a huge age gap, 12 years, and it is a big deal for their relationship. When they start out BoXiang is a desperate himbo high school kid and ZhiGang is a small business owner. BoXiang’s friends tease him more for his lust over such a much older man than for being gay. 

Bonus on this one, there is some very high (and it's Taiwan so) very well done heat. That said, the main couple will, in fact, wreck your psyche for life. Proceed with caution.

THE THAI PULPS

You’re My Sky (SanAei)

Side could (and only good part of this show) SanAei are a classic uni age gap pairing. San is a bit of a spoiled rich kid jock who identifies the older nerd character as HIS and is just like, MINE. That’s MY elder gay. 

Brothers (KhunKaow) 

This is not a good show, but side couple Khun & Kaow are great in it. Khun is in university and Kaow has a small baking business.

Top Secret Together and Love By Chance both have sub plots of high school boys pursuing college ones, but the one didn’t go anywhere and the other went very very bad, so yeah… no. Although I would personally LOVE to see this done well. 

BONUS POINTS ROUND

Stepbrothers trope

HIStory 4: Close to You (sides)

YongJie is quite a bit younger than XingSi, not sure on the specifics but he’s in middle school when XingSi is in high school and still in college when XingSi has his own business.

Addicted has the stepbrothers trope but not the age gap.

Older uke being endlessly indulgent

Future

Thailand 2023 YouTube 

Based on a y-novel by Faddest (En of Love) about an engineering student and a dentist (shocker). This is just a soft sweet cotton candy fluff piece about a younger boy who pursues an older boy and then manufactures silly gay drama. Nothing wrong with that. But I don’t think this style of BL really appeals to a very large market share. Will I rewatch it? Sure. Will anyone else? Nope.

If you want your endlessly indulgent older gay, this is the you crack, they made if for you.

*pulp warning*

Manner of Death

Thailand 2021 WeTV

It’s not really relevant to the story, but Tan is younger. Not only that, he’s Bun’s friends younger brother. Bun is very indulgent, but in a grown up way.

I like MoD a lot but I’m conflicted over it being actual BL. It’s a great gay romantic suspense, although the mystery element is its weakness. MaxTul, the Kings of chemistry, are, of course, perfect and perfectly cast, but their romance thread is more a distraction than an addition. Still, I could watch them make-out the phonebook. Watch along here. 

Seven Days

Japan 2015 grey 

AKA Seven Days: Monday-Thursday AND Seven Days: Friday-Sunday Japan

Seryou kinda counts as the pursuer, but the dynamic is very very weak in this one. Still the way he asks to use Yuzuru’s first name (so CHEEKY) and the way he says “senpai” in SUCH a cute way makes me so happy. And Yuzuru is NOTHING is not indulgent, it kinda defines his character. I mean he just LETS him call him by his FIRST name... right away.

Never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses. 

Just Taiwan

HIStory 2: Crossing the Line

2018 Viki 

Seme uke is VERY weak with this one but the younger character is certainly the pursuer. It’s SO GOOD. 

Lin Pei Yu directs this is a sports romance (volleyball) with a good boy/bad boy pairing, and mu favorite of the HIStory franchise. There is no clear seme/uke. Ostensibly it's high school set but Taiwan doesn't care about age appropriate actors. It's a very soft sweet romance with some ridiculously easily overcome conflict. There's great kisses but it's medium heat. The side dishes are the stepbrother trope but they’re very tame, and there’s no other triggers. It's not just my favorite of the franchise, it’s one of my favorite BLs with a perfect happy ending.

Kiseki: Dear to Me

2023 Gaga

The mains are a major age gap, but I always forget because they def don't look it. Also, Taiwan, so very weak seme/uke. Still there is age gap, he's in high school and our gangster is out of college and in the workplace.

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.

(Triggers for knife play, child abuse, lingering trauma.)

Unknown

2024 YouTube

Unknown is a wonderful BL with a pitch perfect portrayal of long term pining, age gap, and the stepbrothers trope. The acting and chemistry are ON POINT (especially from the leads) which made the resulting characters very believable. When it dwells in intimate family drama, it's stunning. It's slightly less successful when it leaves the home and goes gritty. Still, those are mere quibbles. This is an excellent show, one of Taiwan' s best.

As you see above I mostly had to take you to Japan and Thailand for this one. Considering your preferences try Japan first, it's closer in DNA to Taiwanese stuff, but it won't go as high heat. If you want the heat, you'll need to try the Thai stuff (or the ones from Taiwan you haven't seen). I would start with Lovely Writer.

Okay I think I have given you enough and, unless I miss my guess, I may have tempted you to try some Japanese BL.

Comes to the weirder (and weird hair) side. We have pancakes.

Yeah I think you should watch Old Fashion Cupcake.

EVERYONE SHOULD WATCH OLD FASHION CUPCAKE!!!

(source)

This post dated May 2024, not responsible for hyungs that sling after that date.