#at least according to my younger sister | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago

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SEX CAGE - A Certain Kind of Freedom

Kwon Eunbi x male reader

word count: 14K

part 1

Eunbi and Somi are lounging on the couch, comfortably wrapped in the delicious art of gossip — the kind of conversation that could fuel hours of free entertainment, without the need for Netflix or Wi-Fi. Eunbi grabs another cookie, chewing slowly as Somi talks with the passion of someone who just watched the latest episode of a dramatic reality show.

"You heard the latest about Mina, right?" Somi starts, her voice full of that conspiratorial tone only someone who truly revels in other people's misfortunes can master.

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, with the moderate interest of someone who knows this is going to be good. "Oh, Mina, the embodiment of perfection... at least according to herself."

Somi nearly chokes with laughter. "Yes! And can you believe her boyfriend dumped her to date her younger sister?!" She drops the news as if she’s revealing the biggest scandal of the week, which, for their circle, might just be.

Eunbi stifles a laugh, which turns into a rather sadistic smile. "Of course, because obviously the only way to escape that arrogance was... to dive headfirst into an even bigger mess. Congrats to him for making the dumbest choice available."

Somi slaps Eunbi’s arm, laughing. "The worst part is, apparently the sister thought it was cute that he tattooed her name on his arm. Cheap tattoo, mind you. And, of course, she fell for him right then and there. Because nothing says 'I love you' like a bad tattoo."

Eunbi grimaces, shaking her head. "A name tattoo is like signing a contract with disaster. But hey, everyone does what they can with the little brain they have, right?"

They burst into laughter again, the kind of shared humor only longtime friends can appreciate — especially when they’re mocking someone they never really liked. The sound echoes through the apartment, and for a moment, it’s almost like they’re back in the days when their biggest worry was deciding which nail polish to wear that week.

Somi finally catches her breath and looks at Eunbi with a softer expression. “But seriously... you’re glowing, you know? You’ve got such amazing energy! Way different from the last time we talked, when you were, like, at rock bottom with the whole unemployment thing.”

Eunbi feels her stomach churn slightly. Ah, rock bottom. What dark times those were (three months ago). Until she turned things around, of course, but by means Somi can’t — and shouldn’t — know about. Eunbi plays with her hair, as if she can brush away the discomfort with the gesture. “Ah, you know... things have gotten better. Lucky for me, my roommate is super smart.”

Somi narrows her eyes, curious. “Smart how? Did he help you get a new job or something?”

Eunbi tries not to sweat. She can’t exactly admit that her current 'job' involves cameras, masks, and an eager audience hungry for more content. So, the lie flows, smooth as oil. “Oh, you know, he’s into all that nerdy stuff. Investments, bitcoins, NFTs... those complicated things only weirdos understand. He’s been covering the bills for now.”

Somi looks at Eunbi, genuinely impressed. “Wow, you really lucked out! A rich nerdy roommate. Sounds like one of those cliché romances.”

Eunbi lets out a nervous smile. “Yeah, it was a good roll of the dice.” Before Somi can start connecting dots or asking more complicated questions, Eunbi quickly decides to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But enough about that. Now that I have more time, I’m thinking of going back to the gym. What do you think about us going together? Like, a triumphant return to the fitness life.”

Somi almost spills her tea in excitement. “You? The gym? I’m shocked!! But seriously, that’s awesome! What gave you the sudden motivation?”

Eunbi smiles, satisfied to have shifted the topic to safer ground. “Oh, you know... health, staying in shape, that kind of thing. And now that I’ve got more free time, I’ve got no excuses, right?”

Of course, the real reason for the new gym routine was less noble and more... vain. Keeping that ‘porn goddess body’ requires work, after all. The cameras don’t lie, but they definitely have their preferences. And Eunbi was determined to live up to those expectations — hers, the fans’, and anyone else willing to pay to watch.

Somi gets excited about the idea, clapping her hands animatedly. “I LOVE this! Finally, a gym buddy! We can even take those post-workout selfies, you know? Like, ‘no pain, no gain.’ It’s going to be great!”

Eunbi laughs, already picturing herself doing squats while Somi films her for Instagram. “It’ll be fun. My goal will be to get abs like yours.”

The conversation flows smoothly, with occasional laughs and sharp gossip, until the apartment door opens and you walk in, as usual, a bit clumsy, unaware that you’re interrupting the gathering. Somi turns her head to look at you, surprised but with her usual friendly, easy smile.

“Hey! Long time no see!” She gets up to greet you while you try to force a tired smile and give her a quick hug. Not that you don’t like Somi; she’s great, really, but she always brings this certain energy that leaves you feeling slightly... drained. The kind of person who could empty the battery of an entire room just by showing up.

“How’s it going?” you ask, trying to be polite as you prepare to escape to your room.

Somi responds with the same enthusiasm as always. “Everything’s great! And you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Ah, I’m good too. Make yourselves at home, don’t mind me, I’m just heading to my cave,” you say, and with that, you finally make your way to your room.

Barely closing the door, Somi, who never misses an opportunity, turns to Eunbi with a curious gleam in her eye.

“So, has he been bringing a lot of girls around here?”

Eunbi lets out a theatrical sigh, as if the question were more ridiculous than it actually was. “Thank God, no. He’s always been pretty chill, actually. More of a stay-at-home, play-video-games type than the ‘hook up with everyone’ kind.”

Somi crosses her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Really? That’s funny. He’s cute. And I always thought cute guys were taken. What a waste.”

Eunbi tries to keep her composure, but something about Somi finding you cute bothers her. Not that she’s jealous. Obviously not! But hearing Somi compliment you... well, let’s just say it’s irritating. “Yeah, he’s cute. But anyway, back to the topic... the gym, right? I think I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Great! The gym I go to is amazing, you’ll love it.”

Eunbi smiles, satisfied with the sudden shift in conversation, and decides to change the course even further.

"By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask you something, Somi... have you ever been with a girl?"

Somi almost breaks the cookie she was about to eat. She blinks, processing the question. “Uh... like, kissed?”

Eunbi shrugs. “Kissed, hooked up, anything. Has it ever happened?”

Somi, still a bit taken aback, furrows her brow. “Ah, kissing, sure. Everyone’s kissed a friend after a few drinks, right? It’s like a friendship ritual.”

Eunbi lets out a little laugh. “So, just a kiss then? Nothing more?”

Now, Somi’s completely intrigued. She places her teacup carefully on the coffee table, as if she’s about to disarm a bomb. “Well... I’ve never slept with a girl, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Eunbi continues to probe. “And... would you try it?”

She pauses, looking at Eunbi more intently now, as if trying to catch the hidden subtext in the question. Then, connecting some dots, maybe a bit hastily, she smiles slightly. “Wait... are you suggesting that—”

But before Somi can finish her sentence, Eunbi waves her hand, as if shooing away a bunch of unwanted thoughts. “No, no! Nothing like that. I’m not suggesting anything. I was just curious.”

Somi laughs, but there’s a faint thread of tension in the air now, something light, something that wasn’t there before. “Oh, okay. Because, you know, I wouldn’t judge if you were thinking about it. I mean, you’re gorgeous, I’m gorgeous... It wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy.”

Eunbi gives a short, controlled laugh, like someone who needs to keep the train on the tracks. “I know, but that’s not it. I was just asking.”

Somi relaxes, but the mischievous look doesn’t fade. “Ah, got it. Just checking if the hot friend’s into girl-on-girl stuff. Sure, makes sense. Now tell me, what about you? Ever been with a girl?”

“Well... like you, I’ve kissed some friends a few times, you know, those party moments when everyone’s drunk and hyped. But I never... went beyond that, you know?”

Somi puts on a fake dramatic act, clutching her chest like she's deeply offended. "What? You've kissed other friends but never me? And here I thought our friendship was special!"

Eunbi, with the calm of someone who always has an answer ready, shrugs. "Well, we could change that right now, if you want."

Somi raises an eyebrow, surprised, but a smile begins to form on her lips. "Are you serious?"

Eunbi simply nods. "Why not? Friends do these things, right?"

If this were a book, this would be the moment when the reader holds their breath, eagerly anticipating what's next.

Then, without much fuss, Somi gives a mischievous smile, and they both lean forward until their lips touch in a quick, simple kiss. No drama, no complications. Just a brief moment, but with an underlying tension neither of them will admit to.

When they pull away, Eunbi smiles like she just checked off something from her to-do list.

"There. Now you're part of the exclusive group of friends I've kissed."

Somi laughs, raising her cup of tea. "Wow, what an honor. Let's toast to that."

Eunbi raises hers too, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "To open friendships."

They clink their cups, the sound echoing through the room, and the atmosphere relaxes again, as if nothing unusual just happened.

—

[12:03 AM]

Yujin: Heyyyy Rubydden! 🖤✨ Saw your sextape, girl, you SLAYED! Congrats!

[12:07 AM]

Rubydden: Omg, thanksss! I was so nervous, you have no idea 😳

[12:08 AM]

Yujin: Nervous? Pff, no way. You looked super natural. You’ve got that je ne sais quoi. Like... I dunno, a mix of dominatrix and Instagram fairy, you know?

[12:09 AM]

Rubydden: 😂😂 What a description! Now I gotta add that to my bio. But seriously, I loved what you do too. I watched some of your vids and I was like... wow ❤️🔥

[12:11 AM]

Yujin: Some? Haha, liar, bet you binged them all 😏

[12:15 AM]

Rubydden: Well... maybe five or six 😅

---

[10:35 AM]

Yujin: Look, I'm gonna be blunt... I got off to your titjob. That was AVN Awards level 🥵💦

[10:36 AM]

Rubydden: 😳 Omg! Wasn’t expecting that. Now I’m blushing

[10:37 AM]

Yujin: You're a goddess, Rubydden. That close-up on your boobs... girl, perfection!!

[10:38 AM]

Rubydden: Haha, I thought the same about you when I saw that video of you making yourself squirt... hard to forget

[10:39 AM]

Yujin: Haha perfect! But seriously, that titjob you did... I had to grab a vibrator because it was sooo hot 🔥

[10:40 AM]

Rubydden: OMG, really?! I'm feeling flattered now 🙈

[10:41 AM]

Yujin: Of course!! I’m not gonna lie, you and your guy have crazy chemistry. Ever tried a threesome?

[10:42 AM]

Rubydden: Never tried, actually. But I've always been curious... 🤔 Why, got something in mind?

[10:44 AM]

Yujin: Girl, if you haven't tried it, you're missing out, seriously. I've done it a few times and, for real, it’s amazing. Now, imagine this: me, you, and your guy in a video. It'd break the internet!!

[10:46 AM]

Rubydden: Wow... That definitely sounds like something to think about. I guess I'd have to talk to him first, right?

[10:47 AM]

Yujin: For sure, for sure! But think about it seriously, okay? We could make something super sensual, something that would drive the audience wild. Plus, it’d be a lot of fun 😉

[10:49 AM]

Rubydden: Haha, gosh, I'm nervous just thinking about it. But I won’t lie... the idea is tempting

[10:50 AM]

Yujin: Trust me, girl. It’s gonna be an experience you won’t forget. And, obviously, who could forget you after that?

—

You’re sitting in Eunbi’s room, her laptop open on the desk in front of you, your eyes skimming over the messages again and again. That dialogue on the screen doesn’t just surprise you, it throws you into a world you didn’t even know existed a few months ago.

Yujin?

Collab?

A threesome?

Eunbi, standing beside you, looks at you like she’s already made up her mind. To her, this is just another chance to go viral again. "So?" she says, tapping your shoulder lightly, a carefree smile on her face. "What do you think?"

You swallow hard, the words getting stuck in your throat. "I... I don’t know what to say."

She frowns a little, but still in a playful way, like she’s hearing someone complain about being hot in the summer. "Oh, you never know what to say. Relax. It’s not that complicated." And then, with a twinkle in her eye: "Yujin's hot, right? And she's got millions of followers. If we do this, it’s gonna be huge. Like, huge."

"It’s not that," you mumble, trying to form something coherent, but all logic seems to slip away from you like sand through your fingers. "I mean, it’s just... all of this... it’s so new."

She lets out a soft laugh, like she was expecting exactly that. "Of course it’s new. I still remember us sitting on the couch freaking out, thinking we’d get evicted from our apartment. Everything’s happening so fast, but look where we are now!" She picks up her phone, scrolling through Yujin’s photo gallery, clearly much more comfortable with the idea than you are.

"But I don’t even... know if I want to do this," you admit, trying to understand why your voice sounds so small in this conversation when you should be shouting HEY, I LOVE YOU, CAN WE TALK ABOUT US?!

"It’s okay to not want to... right now," she replies, still half-distracted as she shows you another picture of Yujin, this one even more provocative. "But seriously, look at this. Us and her? It’s gonna break the internet. And you’d be the luckiest guy in the world." She says it like she’s pitching the latest smartphone, full of perks and no downsides.

"I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the word I’d use," you laugh awkwardly. How do you explain that, in your head, luck would be getting to take her out to dinner, with no cameras or masks in the way?

She frowns, clearly not understanding why you’re not jumping at the idea. "Okay, then what’s the problem?"

Inside, the knot of emotions keeps growing. You’re still trying to process the fact that you’re falling for your best friend. The girl you’ve always shared everything with, who stood by your side through the tough early days of adulthood. You two share something special... but she doesn’t seem to see it the same way. She’s caught up in the work, the followers, the rising fame.

And you?

You’re caught up in the feeling of falling in love with someone who might only see you as a tool for her career.

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and all you can manage is a frustrated sigh.

"I’ll... think about it, okay?"

She gives you a quick hug, like you’ve just agreed to go to her Barbie-themed party. "Relax, it’s gonna be amazing, you’ll see. We’re doing so well! Maybe, when things calm down, we can even take a trip, just the two of us. What do you think?"

You allow yourself a small smile.

A trip, just the two of you?

That sounds almost... romantic.

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

"Yes! I was thinking maybe the Swiss Alps, how about that? Us in a cozy little cabin, snow falling outside, a fireplace burning... perfect, right?" She looks at you, her eyes shining with the idea. For a brief moment, you imagine the two of you together, far away from everything, just enjoying each other’s company. Damn, that would be perfect.

But, of course, Eunbi continues: "And we could shoot a video there! Imagine, us having sex in front of the fireplace, with the snow falling outside... it’d go viral."

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. Of course.

Because in the end, that’s what it all boils down to. The romance fades faster than your desire to keep this conversation going.

—

You're lying on the couch, engrossed in your book, when you hear the apartment door open. Eunbi had gone out to pick up a package, and you were already used to her dramatic entrances. But the excitement with which she bursts through the door this time makes you suspicious of what on earth is in that box. It could contain anything from a toaster to a new vibrator powerful enough to emit sound waves detectable by a hydrophone at the bottom of the ocean.

“So, what’d you get this time?” you ask without looking up from your book.

“Oh, you'll find out soon enough,” she replies in a voice full of secrets.

You raise an eyebrow but go back to your book. “Right. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t explode.”

She disappears into the bedroom, and for a second, everything returns to normal. You almost convince yourself it’s nothing to worry about… until hours later, when another door opens again, this time with the subtlety of a hurricane. And who enters the room is… well, Eunbi, but a version of her that looks like she just walked out of a weird fanfic written by someone with way too much time on their hands.

She’s wearing a schoolgirl skirt that honestly makes you question the sanity of fashion designers and a baby tee she probably last wore many years ago.

You look at her, half incredulous, half amused, and can’t help but laugh. “Okay, what the hell is that?”

Eunbi spins around like a runway model, making the skirt dangerously twirl. “My new costume! For the next video, obviously.”

You tilt your head, a bit cynical. “What video?”

“I mean, our video,” she corrects. “We’re gonna do a roleplay. I’m the younger sister, and you’re the older brother.”

What?

You frown.

“Wait, what?”

But she moves closer, sitting beside you, her hand strategically landing on your thigh. And it’s that kind of hand slide that makes your neurons scream to ignore it, but of course, your body had already betrayed you the second she walked into the room in that… outfit. Now you start to understand that the mysterious box might have had something to do with this transformation.

“I’m going to be your stepsister,” she begins, while her fingers trace slow circles on your leg, “and our parents aren’t home... and I want to show you something. Something I just discovered, you know, like… sex.”

“Oh, sure. Sex,” you say, as if it’s the most revolutionary concept you’ve ever heard. “Because that’s what every little sister does, right?”

She either ignores the sarcasm or just doesn’t care. “Exactly! Oh, and of course, it won't be anything too scripted, we'll just feel the vibe and improvise. It’s going to be our best video yet. It’ll have that… forbidden touch, you know?”

You lean back on the bed, trying to figure out a way out of this. “So… like… can I finish my book first?”

Her eyes gleam with pure determination as she leans in closer, her hand now dangerously high on your thigh. “You can finish later. This will be quick.”

You had spent the last few days deciding that, no, this was too much, that you weren’t going to have sex with Eunbi just to create content anymore. Boundaries, you told yourself. Self-respect. You were more than that, right? You were going to set limits, be firm...

But now, with her hand so close to something that does not respect any rational decision, those words start to feel distant.

Then she delivers the final blow, the argument that should be illegal in any discussion. “And, look, it’ll be my first anal. You’ll get to fuck my ass. And, to make it better, I’ll let you come inside.”

Your synapses short-circuit. All those mature reflections about feelings and dignity… vanish. The decision you had sworn to keep firm just... dies. Just like that.

Her hand is already on your cock, and of course, it’s already rock-hard. Not that you have much of a choice at this point. Your body had already made the decision for you.

“It’ll be fun,” she says with a slight tease, her fingers now playing with your erection. “And I promise I’ll make you feel... very good.”

You try, by some miracle, to keep your composure. “Okay, but... shouldn’t we have, like, talked about this first?”

She looks at you with an expression that clearly says: Are we really having this conversation right now? “The only thing we need to talk about is how much you want to fuck my ass.”

You let out a sigh—whether of surrender, desire, or just because you’re an idiot, you’re not sure.

But deep down, you knew you were defeated the moment she walked into the room wearing that damned skirt.

Of all the absurd decisions you’ve made, this is probably the most obvious one. With your mind utterly overwhelmed by a mix of desire and confusion, you heard yourself saying yes before you had time to process anything more rational—like, for instance, no.

Eunbi smiles as if she's about to invite you to play house, but a version that would never be allowed on any playground. She bounces off the mattress, as if the thrill of seeing you sink into this pit of poor decisions is a small personal victory, and rushes to the bedroom. You hear the sound of boxes being rummaged through. She comes back with a mask and the camera. Your camera, which, let’s be honest, she practically stole from you a long time ago.

"Here," she says, handing you the equipment with a sparkle in her eyes. "Now I’m going to redo the entrance," she continues, already in full actress mode, putting the mask on, "but this time, you’re going to be my older brother, and I’ll be your... well, you already know."

You sigh, half-amused, half-resigned, but lie down on the bed as instructed, slightly frustrated to give up something important to do... this—and yes, you did consider finishing that book important—but, if we're being honest, resisting Eunbi was like trying to hold water in your hands.

You turn on the TV, something generic is on, maybe a show about giant cakes, which, of course, doesn’t match what’s about to happen. You press the record button on the camera.

And this is how it begins:

The bedroom door opens, and there she is, the personification of every possible cliché of fantasies that shouldn’t exist. A schoolgirl skirt that’s way too short, a baby tee that only someone with questionable taste would consider appropriate for anyone past puberty, and a walk that was almost a caricature. But the strangest thing was how much she had changed. It wasn’t just the outfit. It was everything: the posture, the gestures, even the expression on her face. When she approaches and says, “Hey, big brother,” the voice is so sweet it’s almost sickening.

Pure poisoned sugar.

You glance at her as she sits at the edge of the bed, the camera strategically positioned to film from the neck down, focusing on that damned tight baby tee that accentuates her breasts. “Hey,” you reply, casually.

“Parents are gone,” she announces, sitting beside you on the bed. You mutter something vague in response, more focused on surviving the scene than keeping up the act.

“Remember what dad said before he left?” she asks, with that voice that sounds like it’s meant to sell children’s toys or, in this case, sell the idea of something entirely different.

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure, take care of the house. And you.”

She smiles. But it’s not an innocent smile.

No, definitely not.

"Exactly. And I was thinking… shouldn’t you, like, take care of me now?"

“Hmm, take care of you... how?”

She smiles again, and the insinuation in her voice is so heavy it could sink a ship. "I discovered something. Something people do to feel good. And I think we should try it."

You try to fake indifference, which, of course, doesn’t help at all. "Oh yeah? What’s that?"

She leans in a little more, almost whispering. "The man puts the, um, what’s it called? Penis! That’s it! The man puts the penis into... the vagina... I think that’s it. He puts the penis in the woman’s vagina. That makes them feel good." She pauses, watching your reaction. “I want to try that with you.”

You almost choke on your own saliva.

"What? Who told you that?"

She shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. "Saw it on the internet."

Ah, of course. The internet. The vast well of wisdom and depravity.

Before you could come up with a reasonable excuse to cut this strange performance—something like ‘I can’t do this, sorry’ or ‘please, I just want to finish my book’—her hand was already on your cock. And, to be fair, that’s exactly what your brain didn’t need at that moment.

“Hey, what are you doing now?” you ask, more because you felt you should say something than because you really wanted an answer.

“Let me see your dick, brother,” she said, as if asking to see the TV remote. “Please, please, please!”

"I can't show you that," you retorted, in vain.

She frowned, but in a mischievous way. “I’ll show you what’s under my panties if you show me your dick.”

And, of course, her next move was to part her leg and lift her skirt, revealing the most enticing panties anyone could imagine—pink, with little animal prints, the full provocation package.

Your self-control—or what was left of it—flew out the window. She kept pressing on your dick over your pants, and finally, you gave in. "Alright, alright."

“Yaaay!!”

Eunbi took on the role with an almost disturbing enthusiasm. When you finally gave in and let her pull down your pants, her eyes lit up with exaggerated curiosity, as if she was dealing with something mysterious, incomprehensible, and worthy of scientific study. She looked at your cock like it was a particularly intriguing puzzle—one to be solved not with logic, but with her hands.

"Wow..." she murmured, her words filled with rehearsed admiration. Her fingertips brushed against the warm skin, exploring as if it was the first time she had ever touched a cock. She giggled and, with a touch that was almost innocent (if it weren’t so provocative), started handling it like she was investigating the workings of a new toy.

“It’s... so big!” The words came out with an overly exaggerated tone of surprise.

You tried to maintain some semblance of indifference, but it was like trying to keep a dam intact in the middle of a hurricane. "Careful there," you said, your voice already tense, feeling every light touch as if your cock was now in the hands of an inexperienced mechanic unsure of how to proceed.

She used both hands, holding it with a curiosity that seemed clumsy but intentionally sensual. “Why is it like this? Like, hard... but the skin’s soft at the same time?” The question was so simple, almost comical in its innocence, that you couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh.

“That’s how it works,” you muttered, the effort to keep your head in the game becoming harder as her hands slid more confidently. She squeezed a little more, testing different ways to hold it, as if searching for the perfect grip, her short nails brushing the sensitive skin in a way that made you squirm.

“And these balls down here?” She looked at them with genuine curiosity, playing with your balls, her gaze still so inquisitive that it almost made you laugh again. “What are they for? Do they get hard too?”

“No...” you took a deep breath, trying to explain without completely losing your composure. “I mean, they can get a little hard when they’re full... They’re… sensitive , just... don’t mess with them too much.”

She laughed, clearly amused by the reaction she was provoking. Her touch grew bolder as she became more familiar with what she was doing, running her hands along the entire length, holding your balls with a mix of care and silly curiosity, like she was weighing something valuable. “Oh, so the balls are sensitive...” she teased, laughing mischievously. "I’ll be careful."

She wasn’t, of course. Her touch, though clumsy for the character, was becoming more precise, more intentional. She knew exactly what she was doing, even if the role demanded a forced innocence.

"Can I... try something?" she asked, lying under your legs, her face so close to your dick that you could feel her warm breath on the tip.

"Try what?"

It was an unnecessary question because the answer was already written between the two of you in bold letters. She knew. You knew. Everyone—including the audience watching this later—knew.

“Can I... lick it?” she asked with the same sweetness as someone asking to taste a piece of candy. She tilted her head, her eyes big and bright behind the mask, and without waiting for an answer, lowered her head and gave a timid lick, almost as if she was testing the taste.

You took a deep breath, your muscles tensing involuntarily. "Go ahead..."

She started licking with small, experimental touches, giggling with each new move as if she was genuinely enjoying herself. "It tastes kind of... salty," she commented, like she was talking about a new gourmet ice cream. She laughed again, licking once more, this time with more intention, running her tongue from the base to the tip with an almost disturbing concentration. "Is that good for you?"

"Fuck yes," you responded, trying to control the moan already escaping your throat.

“Then I’ll keep going...” she murmured, smiling satisfied with herself, like a good sister just wanting to make her older brother feel good.

Her movements were a strange, seductive mix of rehearsed hesitation and almost genuine curiosity. The tip of her tongue traced small lines along your skin, up and down, almost like she was discovering a new flavor. She giggled between licks, which for some reason only made the situation hotter. With each touch, the heat in your body intensified.

“You really like this, huh?” she asked with a feigned innocence that you knew was part of the act, but it didn’t make the situation any less provocative. The way she spoke, as if asking an everyday question, contrasted deliciously with the explicit nature of what she was doing.

You let out a low moan, struggling to maintain some control over the situation. “It’s... incredible,” you replied, your voice already shaky.

She paused for a moment, her eyes shining with interest, as if analyzing the situation from a new angle. “So... if this makes you feel so good, what’s the best part?” The question came with that unsettling curiosity of wanting to learn more, wanting to be better at making her brother happy.

You try to stay focused, fighting the urge to just drop the camera and use both hands to make her gag on your dick. But no, she wanted it to be a game, she wanted it slow—you both had roles to play. "The tip," you said, vaguely pointing to the most sensitive part of your dick. “The tip is... where you should focus more.”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, amusement clear on her face. "The tip?" She looked at your dick with the same exaggerated fascination, her lips moving slowly as she considered the new challenge. "Okay, big brother... If that’s what will make you feel better."

She leaned her head closer, her gaze fixed on the tip of your dick, like she was about to solve a Rubik’s cube. And then, with calculated slowness, she wrapped her lips around the head, giving a light suck, as if tasting something for the first time.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The touch of her soft lips, combined with the light pressure of the suction, was simply electrifying. And she seemed to love the reaction she provoked, laughing softly as she continued, her movements increasing in intensity.

“Like this, is it good?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled, as she kept the tip of your dick in her mouth. With each word, the vibration made you lose more and more control.

"Keep going... just like that... it's really good," you managed to say, the words escaping with difficulty. She gave a low, satisfied laugh before going back to what she was doing, now using her tongue to explore the tip with even more curiosity. She swirls her tongue in slow, teasing circles, gently increasing the pressure before relaxing, repeating the motion as if she's experiencing something new each time.

"It's kind of weird," she says suddenly, pulling her mouth away for a second to catch her breath but keeping her hand firmly around your cock, playing with the base like it's something she just learned to use. "But in a good way, you know? Like... kind of funny."

"There's nothing funny about this," you say, almost laughing but trying to keep your composure. "Just... keep doing what you were doing."

She smiles, that mischievous smile that shows she knows exactly what she's doing. "Okay, okay... I'll be a good sister, I promise." And with that, she puts the tip of your cock back in her mouth, now with more determination, sucking with a steady rhythm that makes your whole body react.

You and the camera watch everything, your mind torn between the rising lust and the surrealness of the situation. The way she slips into the role, playing with the idea of being a little sister "discovering" something so dangerous and exciting, only heightens the effect. She sucks the tip with absurd concentration, as if each movement were a new step in a forbidden game.

She pulls the cock out of her mouth again, her hands still busy, and looks at you, eyes gleaming with excitement that comes more from the game than the act itself. "Do you want me to keep going like this? Or should I do something else? I... I can learn quickly, you know."

"So, remember the balls? You can suck them too. I’ll like that a lot."

"You said they’re sensitive, right?" Her voice has that exaggerated tone of curiosity, like she's playing a little sister who wants to learn everything, absolutely everything. "What do I do with these... little balls?"

You, already sunk into the role she’s forcing on you, struggle to keep your voice steady. "Yeah... yes. They’re... sensitive. You can... suck them too. But, carefully."

She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Suck? Like I did with your cock?"

You nod, the words almost slipping. "Yes. But... slower, okay?"

"Mmm, got it!" she murmurs in a devilishly sweet voice. "I'll take care of you, just like you take care of me."

She lowers her head further, moving slowly down to your balls, as if she’s deliberating her next move. She gives them another lick, experimental and almost casual, like she’s licking a popsicle in front of the TV on a Saturday afternoon, and not your body.

"Like this?" Her voice is loaded with fake innocence, but the mischievous smile on her lips leaves no doubt that Eunbi knows exactly what she’s doing. "Or should I be a bit... more careful?"

You swallow hard. "That’s it, just… a little slower..."

She giggles again, that light laugh that makes it seem like you’re really playing make-believe. But, obviously, what she’s doing is far from that. She tilts her head more and begins licking your balls slowly, this time without hesitation, but still with that touch of exaggerated curiosity.

"It's funny," she comments between licks. "I didn’t know they could get harder." With each word, she lets her tongue glide smoothly over the sensitive skin, teasing in a way that makes everything feel like one big game.

You can barely think of a coherent response. "Yeah... the more you play with the balls, the 'harder' they get," is all you can say, trying to maintain some control while her head moves between the base of your cock and your balls, like she’s deciding which part she likes best.

Then she looks up again, as if a brilliant idea just struck her. "What if I suck it all at once? Do you think I can fit it all in my mouth?"

"Yes... go ahead, try..."

And she does, enveloping your balls with her mouth slowly and carefully, almost with that rehearsed sweetness, like an obedient little sister.

"Am I doing well?" she asks in that sweet little voice, her words muffled as she continues playing with your balls, moving her head side to side, as if she’s, once again, testing the limits of what she can do.

You almost laugh, but it’s a forced laugh, the kind you make when you’ve been taken to a place where reason was lost long ago. "You’re such a good girl!"

She smiles, satisfied. "I want to be the best little sister in the world!"

"Okay, if you really want to be the best little sister in the world, then do as you promised and show me what’s under your panties, alright?" you ask, knowing it’s best to stop for now, or the video will end in just a blowjob.

She obediently stands up, unbuttoning her skirt with deliberate slowness, almost ceremoniously. You get rid of your pants and boxers for good and sit on the edge of the bed. She lets the fabric slide down her thighs to the floor, revealing pink panties. It doesn’t help that she seems genuinely excited about it, like she’s playing with something her parents didn’t allow.

"Do you like it?" she asks, turning slightly to show off the pink panties decorated with little animals and bows on the sides.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, which is a colossal challenge considering the scene. "It’s... yeah, it’s nice."

"Nice?" She pretends to be offended, crossing her arms over her chest. "These panties are cute. I chose them especially for my brother." She emphasizes the ‘brother’ with a tone that should be sweet but only manages to sound dangerously suggestive.

"Sure, sure," you reply, looking away for a second, as if that would help you escape the trap. "Cute."

With an even wider smile, she slowly lowers her panties, revealing her already wet pussy. The ‘little stepsister’ looks at you with a rehearsed expression of pure innocence. "Huh? Why... is it so wet?"

You take a deep breath, knowing that any answer to that question will only dig you deeper. But like any protagonist in a story who’s clearly made the worst decision, you answer: "It’s because... you like me. Your body reacts like that when you... really like someone."

She ponders for a second, as if she’s considering this revelation for the first time. "Ah... that makes sense. I do really like you, you know?"

"Yeah... I like you a lot too," you murmur, as if that would help keep things within some kind of boundary.

"So," she continues, her eyes fixed on yours, "what do we do now, brother? How are you going to take care of me?"

You try to keep your voice calm, even though you know it’s quickly becoming impossible. "Why don’t you start... touching your pussy? Slowly. Just to see how it feels."

She seems surprised, but excited by the suggestion. Slowly, her fingers begin to descend, gliding over her soft skin until they reach her wet pussy. And the moans start, first light, then becoming continuous, accompanied by a smile that drives you crazy.

"Like this?" she asks, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"Yes, exactly like that," you reply, your voice a little rougher than you’d like, slowly stroking your cock while you film and watch the scene.

She continues, her fingers still timid, almost hesitant, like she’s discovering a new toy and doesn’t know exactly how to use it. She bites her lower lip, clearly enjoying her own curiosity, but you notice that something... is missing.

"No, no... this way it won’t be as good," you say, trying to sound instructional, which is a colossal challenge given the situation. "Let me show you a better way."

She stops, her eyes blinking at you with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Show me? Like... you’re going to teach me, big brother?" She smiles like she’s learning to do homework, except the ‘lesson’ at hand is far from academic.

"Yes... that’s it, I’ll show you. Trust me. Lie down on my bed and open your legs."

You stand up as she does what you asked, her legs slowly spreading to give you full access. With a sigh, you slide your hand between her thighs, your fingers lightly brushing her warm, damp pussy.

She trembles slightly at the touch, letting out a soft moan. "What are you going to do...?"

"Just relax, okay? You'll feel much more pleasure that way," you respond, still in 'older brother instructing' mode, because somehow that twisted logic makes sense right now.

Your fingers find her clit, and you start making slow circles, pressing just the right way—the way you know will make her writhe with pleasure. And, as expected, her moans intensify, her hips moving involuntarily against your hand.

"Ah... this is... so much better," she whispers, her eyes half-closed, her voice now more drawn out, almost surprised at the intensity of what she's feeling. "This feels so good, you're making me feel so good!" She arches her back, getting more lost in the touch, her hands squeezing her breasts, still covered by the baby tee, her moans echoing through the room. "This... this is incredible," she breathes between sighs. "Do it again, brother. Do it like that."

You comply, your fingers now firmer, exploring the small spasms of her body, each touch precise to make her feel more, to make her moan louder. Her breathing becomes ragged, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, and for a moment, the absurd theatrics of the situation disappear, replaced by a raw, physical connection.

"You like that, don’t you?" you ask, knowing the answer is obvious.

"I love it... Mmm, I didn't know I could feel this way." she replies, her voice broken. "You're... you're the best brother I could ever have."

Your fingers move faster now, firm and precise, playing her body like an instrument, each stroke making her tremble. She's gasping, eyes closed, writhing beneath you, her hips rising and falling against your hand. It's a hypnotic sight—almost like watching a chaotic dance, where her body is the instrument, and you, the conductor.

"Ah... brother, I... I’m feeling something strange..." she murmurs, her voice hoarse, almost trembling.

You smile, keeping your tone calm, as if you've been through this before. "It's normal... just relax and let it happen. It'll feel good, trust me."

She lets out a long, nearly broken moan as her body begins to lose control, her muscles contracting involuntarily around your hand. The camera is focused on her movements, capturing every contortion, every muffled moan, as if it were the final piece of a banned masterpiece in several countries.

"Ah, ah... I can't... Oooh..." She begins to beg, her words dissolving into pure sound, as your fingers continue, relentless, pressing and circling, giving no reprieve.

"That's it, let it out... it'll feel good, just let it all out." You encourage her, your voice soft, almost paternal, a sharp irony considering the context.

And then, it happens. She arches sharply, her body trembling violently, and you feel her wet heat spill over your hand. She comes with a scream that echoes through the room, her moans transforming into a primal sound, pure instinct and release. You keep playing her, extending the moment until the last spasm fades.

The camera captures everything—the unbridled pleasure, the ecstasy etched into every curve of her body. Every tremor and sigh are recorded.

When she finally collapses on the bed, exhausted, her breathing uneven, you gently pull your fingers away, bringing your soaked hand up to the camera lens for a close-up.

"Good job, little sister," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice. She just giggles, exhausted but satisfied, her body still trembling with the last traces of pleasure.

"I knew I could trust you," she murmurs, eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"But we're not done yet," you say. "I want you to get on all fours for me, I'll show you something.”

Eunbi eagerly complies, lying face down with that almost naive obedience, arching her back with the precision of someone who's done this before. And you, in the role of the responsible older brother, observe and film.

"Now open that ass," you say, giving her a light slap that makes her skin ripple, and without question, she pulls her small hands to spread her cheeks, revealing her tight little asshole and wet pussy, everything perfectly exposed.

You run your fingers over her pussy, wetting them carefully, like you're preparing for a sacred ritual. Then you slide the wet finger down to her tight little asshole. She shifts a bit but stays in position, letting out a low moan as you finally push the finger inside.

"This little ass is precious, you know?" you say, almost in a teacherly tone as your finger slowly explores. "No one else can play with it but me. Just me."

She moans again, a sound mixed with pleasure and a promise about to be made. "I know, brother. It’s yours... only yours."

Her voice sounds sweet, almost begging for more, and you increase the pressure with your finger, pushing a little deeper, testing how far you can go. She arches her back even more, as if trying to make your job easier, offering her body.

"Good to know you understand," you tease, and she murmurs something in agreement. "Because if anyone else tries, there’s going to be a problem, understood?"

She bites her lip, her fingers still holding her cheeks apart. "I promise, brother... it’s only yours."

You smile, satisfied with her promise. "That’s how I like it."

Eunbi remains there, face down, obedient, her hands gripping her cheeks firmly, opening herself to you as if this were the natural purpose of her existence. Her breathing is heavy but eager as your fingers explore, playing with the tight little asshole still learning what it means to belong to someone. You feel the heat of her skin, and the way she trembles with each of your movements makes it clear that despite everything, she's enjoying it.

"Good girl," you say in a tone of approval that sounds almost paternal, moving your finger with more determination now, circling slowly before pressing in again. She lets out a shaky sigh, biting her lip and closing her eyes as if trying to focus on anything other than the pleasurable discomfort you're causing.

"It... it hurts," she admits in a trembling voice, as if revealing a secret, but then immediately moans again, that strange mix of pain and desire. "But it feels good..." She arches her back a little more, as if to encourage you, even as her body struggles to adjust to the new sensation.

You chuckle, pleased with her progress. Then you wet your fingers more in her pussy.

"It’s going to hurt a bit at first," you admit, moving the wet finger more slowly now, just to test her limits. "But don’t worry. Soon enough your little ass will get used to it." The promise is made in a reassuring tone.

Eunbi lets out a louder moan as you penetrate a little deeper, her fingers gripping her cheeks tighter as if trying to steady herself. She moves, arching her back into an even more inviting angle, legs slightly apart. "You... you think?" Her voice is a mix of insecurity and excitement, almost as if she's asking for more.

"I know," you respond, soaking in the confidence of the role, moving your finger with more rhythm, teasing her. "You're a good girl, and good girls always learn fast."

She moans again, her face buried in the mattress, but her arched back continues offering everything you've asked for and more. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna be a good girl for you, brother. I promise..."

You pause for a moment, your fingers still wet from the recent exploration. Eunbi—or, for the purposes of this performance, your ‘stepsister’—breathes deeply, still arched, her body tense with anticipation. The atmosphere is thick, and for a brief second, you just stand there, silently absorbing every almost imperceptible tremor running down her spine. The camera, your silent partner, focuses on every nuance of her expression, every shiver.

“It’s time for you to find out what you’ve been wanting, princess,” you say.

“Please… put your cock in me.”

"Say please," you respond, your voice low, so heavy with desire you barely recognize it. "Be a good girl and ask politely."

Eunbi, ever the meticulous actress, turns her face toward you, her wide eyes behind the mask with an innocence that only exists in fiction—those big eyes, the kind that say ‘I’m pure, I swear,’ even when nothing happening in the room suggests anything remotely innocent. Her breathing is fast, like a theater student at the peak of their dramatic performance.

"Please..." Her voice is a fragile whisper, but sweet, carefully rehearsed to sound vulnerable. "Please, brother... I want you to put your thick cock inside my tight little pussy."

Ah, there it is. The final barrier collapsed with the weight of a house of cards pushed by a breeze. You can’t help but smile—not that the camera can catch it—as you adjust your position with the precision of a watchmaker fine-tuning a delicate gear. The heat emanating from her body is magical, and when you finally penetrate her, slowly, each inch is consumed by her pussy, which wraps around you with a softness that defies reality.

She lets out a moan—the kind of sound that floats between pleasure and surprise, as if she’s being taken into unknown territory while, at the same time, exactly where she wanted to be. "Like that... like that... please," she moans, her voice strained, fingers gripping the sheets as if she’s on the brink of an existential revelation and only the sheets can keep her from being pulled into the abyss.

You start to move, oscillating between slow and deliberate, savoring the moment like you’re tasting the finest wine in the world, while she whispers sweet words between moans.

“Yeah, good girl!” you say softly.

The pace increases, the sound of bodies colliding echoes through the room, and as Eunbi arches her back, moaning for more with an almost religious fervor, you feel like you’re in control of not just her, but the entire scene.

You begin to pick up the pace, your movements gaining a life of their own. Beneath you, Eunbi is moaning non-stop, each sound a bit louder, a bit more desperate. Then, with the precision of a medieval archer hitting the bullseye, your hand comes down fast and firm on her ass.

The slap echoes through the room like an unexpected sound. The impact is immediate: her skin turns a reddish hue, the contrast clear and satisfying against her pale skin. Eunbi lets out a moan that’s half pain, half pleasure—the kind of sound that makes you want to repeat the action just to hear it again.

"More," she moans, her eyes half-closed, her voice muffled by the sheets, as if talking to herself but at the same time asking directly for you. "Please, spank me more, brother!!”

Ah, how could you resist such a polite request? Your hand comes down again, harder this time, leaving another red mark, and her body writhes in pleasure. You begin to alternate between thrusts and slaps, creating a symphony of pleasure and impact that seems to defy the basic rules of decency.

"You like that, don't you?" you say, your voice thick with provocation, as your hand meets her ass again and again, each slap resonating like a gong in a distant temple—or, in this case, the perfect sound of approval for what you two are doing.

"Yes!" she moans, the words coming out in broken breaths, "please... don’t stop!" She raises her hips higher, almost begging for more, and you, always generous, don’t disappoint.

Another slap. Harder. Her body reacts instantly, and the moans turn into something almost primal, as if she’s surrendering completely to the sensation.

"You’re a good girl, baby," you say. "But good girls need to be reminded who’s in control."

She only moans in response, her breathing ragged, her body completely given over to the moment. And, of course, you're more than willing to keep claiming territory, with each slap and thrust taking both of you closer to an inevitable climax.

You stop for a moment, feeling the sweat drip down your forehead, looking at Eunbi and the red marks you left on her buttocks.

“Now, be a good girl and ride me,” you say. “You’re going to like this position, I promise.”

You pause the recording.

Eunbi, obedient and eager as always, pulls away from you, giving you room to lie down on the bed. And then, with a grace that would make any mythological goddess jealous, she positions herself over you. For a brief second, your eyes meet hers, and there’s that exchange of complicity. That look that says: ‘Yes, we know exactly what we’re doing.’

You resume recording.

She lowers herself onto your cock, with a slowness that’s almost torturous, but at the same time, delicious. With every inch she takes in, you feel her warmth enveloping you, the tightness that almost defies logic. She moans softly, adjusting her body, and starts to move. Slow at first, learning the right rhythm.

But, of course, that doesn’t last long.

Soon, she’s riding with more intensity, picking up the pace. Her breasts bounce under the tight baby tee, and then, with a swift movement, she pulls the fabric up, revealing her large breasts that now move freely to the rhythm of her ride.

You can’t resist – who could? – and zoom in on her breasts. Her moans, the bouncing breasts, the hips moving up and down with precision. The camera can barely keep up, but you’re not exactly thinking about perfect angles right now.

This is living art, and you’re documenting every second as best you can.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say, half to her, half to the video. “Keep going, my good girl.”

Eunbi bites her lip, increasing the pace even more, and the room is filled with sounds – the bed creaking, her moans getting louder, the slap of bodies meeting. Your fingers grip her waist, helping to guide her, but the truth is, she’s in control for now.

And honestly, you’re not complaining.

She tilts her head back, eyes closed, her whole body focused on the frenzied movement. “Do you like watching me like this?” she asks between moans, with that completely calculated innocence, knowing exactly the effect her words have.

“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice hoarse, as you keep filming, knowing this recording will be something people will want to watch – many times.

The way she moves, even as her body consumes you inch by inch, is a balance between the innocent and the forbidden, as if she’s trying to convince you that she really is a good girl, only with a very, very fertile imagination.

“Please, brother...” she murmurs, almost in a whisper, leaning forward. The words come out in a sweet tone, with a hint of hesitation, as if testing the limits of roleplay with each syllable. “Do you think I’m being a good girl... for you?”

You smile, unable to hold back the sadistic pleasure that surfaces with the question. Your hand moves up her thigh, squeezing firmly. “You’re doing very well, little sister,” you reply. “But good girls can do better. Come on, show me how much you want to be the best.”

She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness – part of the act, of course, but brilliantly performed. “I... I can do better,” she says, trying her best to sound shy, as if begging for your approval. “I promise I can be the best little sister for you. Just... let me show you.”

And then, she lifts herself again and starts moving with more intensity, speeding up as her hands rest on your abs for balance. Her moans grow louder, almost stuttered, but she keeps the sweetness in her voice. “This feels so good... do you like seeing me like this, brother?” She asks, as if genuinely concerned about your verdict.

You don’t answer immediately, just watching her with that calculated expression. “You haven’t convinced me yet,” you finally say, your words sharp. “Good girls need to try harder. If you want to be my favorite, you’re going to have to work for it.”

Her eyes widen in mock concern, her breathing coming in heavier pants as her effort increases. She leans forward, her hair falling around her face as she continues to ride you, her movements becoming more intense, and the steady pace she maintains pushes you over the edge. “Brother... I’m trying,” she says between moans, her voice tinged with a mixture of effort and supposed innocence, as if the simple act of continuing is proof of her dedication. “Are you... are you enjoying it? Am I being a good girl right now?”

Your smile widens, seeing how far she’s willing to go to keep the fantasy alive. “You’re almost there, baby,” you reply with a superior tone, enjoying the power of the moment. “But good girls don’t just try. They give it their all. Show me how much you want this.”

She lets out a small moan, her eyes filled with an intensity that seemed to be growing with each movement. “I… I can do more,” she murmurs, picking up speed, her thighs now pressed against your body, rising and falling at an almost frantic pace. Her breasts bounce with the force of her ride, and her lips tremble with the effort, but she keeps going, determined.

“That’s it,” you murmur, your eyes locked on hers as you watch the hypnotic sway of her exposed breasts. “Good girl. Keep it up. Do it right!"

She bites her lip hard, clearly struggling to please you, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly as she picks up the pace even more. “I… I’m doing this for you, brother,” she moans, her voice sweet and broken, feigning complete devotion. “I want you to love me. I want to be your favorite girl. Please… love me…”

You grip her waist, helping to guide her movements. Her body moves down harder, with more determination. “If you keep it up, I might just love you,” you tease, tightening your grip. “But only if you really try. Go on, faster. Show me how much you want to be my good girl.”

She obeys, her moans louder now, mixed with panting breaths. “I’ll be… I promise,” she barely manages to say between her rapid movements. “I’ll be your good girl. The best one ever. I swear!”

“Then make me cum,” you say, your voice low and controlled, but full of expectation. “Only good girls know how to do this. Will you make it, little sister? Will you show me that you deserve it?”

She responds with only a strangled moan: “I- I w-will!”

“Then turn over,” you demand, your voice low but full of command. She stops riding you slowly, a smile on her lips, as if she’s been waiting for this order all along. She carefully turns her body, now facing away from you, her ass sticking up in a way that leaves her completely exposed. “Now you’re going to let me play with your asshole.”

"Brother... you're going to take care of me, right? Mommy and daddy said you needed to take care of me."

"Of course I'll take care of you. But now you're going to let me play with your asshole." You take your cock in one hand, holding it tight like a guide. "Come on."

She hesitates for a second, biting her lip with a hint of insecurity—not of the Eunbi you know, but of the character she's playing. "B-But... what are you going to do there, brother? You shouldn't..."

"Trust me," you murmur, almost out of patience now. "You're going to like it, it's going to make you feel really, really good."

She lets out a small moan, leaning forward, and you start to press in slowly. Entry is difficult—the pink ring of muscle resists at first, tight and almost impenetrable, as if her body is trying to say no while her mind and desire say otherwise.

"It's too tight..." she murmurs, her voice full of feigned nervousness, part of the act. But at the same time, there's something real in that sound, the little tremor in her voice as she tries to adjust herself... It's Eunbi's first anal too, not just the character's. "Do you think it'll really fit, brother?"

"It will fit," you say, your voice low, controlled, with a promise of pleasure behind it. "Just relax. You trust your brother, don't you?"

She nods, inch by inch, you feel her body giving in. The initial resistance gives way to a delicious pressure when it finally goes in. She lets out a loud moan, surprised.

“Mmm, brother… this… this is so different.” Her voice sounds vulnerable, almost shy, as she begins to move slightly, trying to get used to the intrusion.

“You’re being a good girl,” you reply, controlling the pace, thrusting in and out slowly. “You’ll like it more as you keep going.” And with each movement, each slow thrust, she begins to loosen up, her moans getting louder, her body adjusting to the pleasure.

“Come on, brother… take care of me,” she whispers.

“You’re making me so proud, baby. Your ass is perfect.”

“Ooohh, brother…” She lets out a long sigh, trying to adjust, moving her hips slightly, exploring the new sensation. “Why does this… feel so wrong, yet so good?” Her voice is of calculated innocence that drives you wilder with each passing moment.

“It’s because… sometimes, the best things are the ones we shouldn’t do,” you reply, controlling your tone to keep your character, even though the pleasure is almost knocking you over. You push deeper, feeling her insane grip. “And you’ve always been a curious girl, right? Wanting to try everything…”

She lets out a little laugh, although the tension is still there, hidden beneath the surface. “I am curious, yes, brother… I want to learn everything from you.” Then, she starts moving again, slowly at first, moving up and down hesitantly. “Do you think… I’m a good girl for wanting this?”

You can’t keep calm any longer. Her words, that sweet tone mixed with boldness, are destroying you inside. “You’re the best girl, the hottest, the most obedient,” you reply, your voice husky with desire as you hold her hips tightly to help her keep the rhythm.

“So, I’m going to make my big brother happy,” she murmurs, and with that, she starts riding you harder, her movements more confident now, her hesitation disappearing with each passing second. Each time she goes down, you feel the crushing pressure and heat, a tightness that makes you see stars. Eunbi’s moans are getting louder and louder, and beyond the character, you know how much she’s enjoying this.

“That’s it, like that,” you encourage, your hands now squeezing her ass. “Keep going, baby… show your brother how much you want to make him happy.”

Eunbi arches her back, throwing her hips back with more desire, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echoing through the room. “I’m going to… I’m going to take care of you,” she moans, between giggles, clearly enjoying the role. “But you have to take care of me too, okay? Because I’m just your little stepsister… I can’t do everything on my own…”

Her answer is almost fatal to your sanity. You pull her hips harder, helping her to go all the way down, feeling the overwhelming pleasure consume you. “I’ll take care of you,” you promise, without even thinking about the words. “I’ll teach you everything.”

She speeds up her movements, and now the room is filled with the sounds of her body against yours, her moans getting louder, more desperate. “Brother…” she begins, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and excitement, “I think... I think I’m really enjoying this. You like being in my tight ass, don’t you?”

You almost laugh at her brazenness, but the pleasure is too much. “I love it,” you reply, feeling the urgency take over. “You’re being so good to me. Now, let me fill you with pleasure... until you can’t take it anymore.”

Eunbi continues riding, her movements now more desperate, her face clearly torn between keeping character and giving herself completely to the pleasure. “Aaaah, brother… You'll fill my ass with your cum, right? Because... you promised to take care of me.”

Her head tilts back a little, a mischievous smile lighting up her face, but her moans cut off any possible response. You’re close, so close that words no longer make sense, but the roleplay is still in the air, and you know Eunbi is going to push all the way in.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna make you cum so much, big brother. Because you’re the best brother in the world,” she moans, grinding harder, and you feel like you won’t last much longer.

“You’re going to make your brother so happy… now, get on all fours because your brother is close… I’m gonna fuck your ass until I cum.”

Eunbi lets out a short laugh, her breathing still ragged from the effort and pleasure. She slides out of you slowly, almost provocatively, and you can see how much her asshole has already opened up with your cock. When she finally stands up, she throws that playful look over her shoulder, biting her lip as if she knows exactly what she's doing.

“On all fours?” She asks, with false innocence, as she positions herself on the bed. “Do you want your sister to be like this, brother? Do you want to fill my tight asshole with your milk?”

The answer doesn't need to be verbalized — your body already speaks for you. She leans on the bed, sticking her ass up, her back arched perfectly, offering everything provocatively. The ridiculously short baby tee remains raised, her heavy breasts hanging from her body.

“You know how to obey, don't you? Good girl…”

Without further hesitation, you stand behind her, your hand running down her body, exploring the perfect curve of her hips and the pulsing heat of her skin. The camera is well positioned, capturing every angle of the final moment. Her pussy is wet, swollen with excitement, but it’s her asshole that you want now, and she knows it. Your firm hand positions itself on her ass cheeks, slowly spreading her, revealing the tight little hole that barely hides how much she enjoyed every second of it.

“Are you ready, little sister? Because now I’m going to put everything in you… and I won’t stop until I cum deep inside your ass.”

She looks back, smiling. “I trust you, brother. Do whatever you want with me.”

With that, you line up your hard cock against her narrow entrance and begin to thrust. It’s still tight, incredibly tight, and the initial resistance only makes the pleasure more intense. Eunbi lets out a muffled moan as the head of your cock finally enters, her body adjusting to the size with a mix of discomfort and pleasure.

“Ah... like that,” she moans. “My asshole is burning so much... but it’s so good.”

You push deeper, inch by inch, until you’re completely inside. The pressure is unbearable, the heat and firmness of Eunbi’s asshole squeezing you in an overwhelming way. With your hand firmly placed on her hip, you begin to push slowly, feeling her tight asshole slowly give way.

The camera focuses on this movement, of course, because, after all, the show is for the audience.

Eunbi lets out a moan, something between surprise and pleasure. “Mmm, you are so big, brother,” she murmurs, her voice cracking with the effort of keeping the role.

You go deeper, the camera recording every movement, every inch. “It's because good girls deserve big cocks,” you tease, thrusting harder now, each thrust eliciting a louder moan from her.

“I am,” she replies between gasps. “A good girl... just for you.”

The moans grow louder as you pick up the pace, fucking her ass with increasing force. The camera shakes a little in your hand, but it’s capturing everything, every detail of Eunbi’s masked expression as she grips the sheets, her fingers digging into the fabric.

As the pace intensifies, the tension in the room builds to a breaking point, and you feel the inevitable wave of pleasure about to spill over. Eunbi is panting, her moans turning into excited whispers. Your free hand grips her ass cheek tightly, keeping her open, and her tight asshole wraps around your cock like a hot trap. You know you’re close to the end, and the thought of it only increases the urgency.

"You... are going to take it all, aren't you?" The question comes out almost like a command, her voice hoarse with pleasure. The camera, forgotten for a second, shakes slightly in her hand, but it's still capturing everything.

"Yes, yes!!" she gasps, her eyes rolling back in their sockets, something the camera unfortunately doesn't capture. "I'm going to take it all! I want... I want you to fill my ass, please! ‘Cause I'm your good girl... your favorite stepsister."

Every word, spoken in that sweet, lustful voice, only makes you harder, closer to climax. You grip her hips and thrust hard, each thrust sinking deeper, every inch of your cock being devoured by that unbearable tightness.

"You like your brother's cock, don't you?" Her voice is deep now, full of the energy of someone who knows she's in control. "Tell me. Tell me what you want!"

“I... I love it!!,” she moans, her voice cracking with pleasure, as if she were about to come undone right there. “I want you to cum inside... please, make me yours, for real... Cum inside your sister!”

And that’s what pushes you over the edge.

With one last thrust, you sink your cock all the way in, feeling her body tremble with the impact. The heat begins to spread inside her, the cum spurting with an almost unbearable intensity, filling the tight little asshole of the “little stepsister” who is moaning in pleasure beneath you.

“Mmm... Fuck! Do you feel it, baby?” you tease, thrusting hard as the last hot spurt of cum floods her. “This is what you wanted, right? To be a good girl for your brother.”

She lets out a long moan, her shoulders shaking, her legs weak with pleasure. “Yes, baby… Mmm, I'm feeling all your cum deep inside me!”

You stay inside her for a few more seconds, feeling the heat of her body and the involuntary squeeze of her ass around your cock. Eunbi takes a deep breath, her moans now fading, but the satisfied smile still on her face.

"You made me feel so special," she murmurs, still in the role. "Now I'm your favorite little girl, right? Because I'm the only one who gets your cum."

You pant, lost in pleasure, your eyes closed as you answer: "It's always been you, baby... always you."

You're still breathing heavily, like you just ran a marathon, but your mind has already switched into content production mode — the ship had already sunk, so might as well make this worth something.

With the camera still in hand, you lean in for a better shot.

“Alright, show me the result,” you say bluntly, pointing the camera at the target.

Eunbi moves slowly, resting her elbows on the mattress, her legs still trembling a bit, and with a satisfied smile on her face, she spreads her cheeks with her hands, fully opening the angle for the lens.

“Is this good?” she asks with that fake sweetness you now recognize as part of the performance, but it still works anyway.

“Perfect,” you reply, adjusting the focus, the lens capturing every detail. She spreads her ass slightly, and the cum inside slowly drips out, a bright white line lazily descending, as if it knows it's the star of the show.

“Now look at the camera, baby,” you ask, while she turns her head back, her masked eyes meeting the lens with that look of pure satisfaction. “Tell them what just happened.”

Eunbi, without hesitation, slips into the sweet and innocent tone of her role, “Look what he did to me... filled my little ass with cum.” She giggles, and it's genuine, mixed with that post-climax thrill. “I guess you really like me, huh, bro?”

“Of course I do,” you say, more as part of the act than anything else.

But deep down, there’s something there that isn’t just performance.

“Now rub it a little,” you ask. Eunbi giggles, and you help her, pulling one of her cheeks while she starts rubbing a finger around the entrance, mixing your semen with her juice.

“See that, bro?” she asks with an adorable giggle, “Now I’m all dirty because of you!”

The camera focuses on the scene as you let out a tired but satisfied moan. “I can see that, princess. You got really messy.”

She keeps playing with her fingers, spreading the remnants of your load provocatively, knowing exactly how to play to the lens. “And now, what are you gonna do to me? You left my little ass all wrecked, it’s burning a lot…”

You pretend to think, but the answer is obvious. “Well, I guess now I need to take care of you, don’t I?”

“With love?” she asks, voice full of tenderness.

“With a lot of love,” you reply.

The camera finally shuts off with that classic final beep, like it’s exhausted too. You let out a sigh, while Eunbi, still catching her breath, stands up and removes the mask.

"Yeah, game over," you say, placing the camera on the desk. The vibe shifts instantly. The heavy air from the scene disappears, and the apartment feels normal again, like it had been put in studio mode for a brief moment.

Eunbi stretches her arms like she’s just woken up from a nap, then extends a hand toward you. You high-five, like two classmates finishing a school project instead of… well, what you just did.

“We did good,” she says with a tired but satisfied smile. “Teamwork was solid.”

“Yeah, it was,” you respond, still trying to process it all. “You okay? I mean... because of, you know...”

She laughs, shaking her head. “The anal? Oh, I should have used the fucking lube. But I’m fine. It stings a little, but it'll pass," she explains, as if she’s talking about a mild sunburn.

You’re not sure if you should feel relieved or admire how casually she handles it. Before you can overthink it, Eunbi suddenly turns and hugs you. The warmth of her body against yours is almost comforting, even with sweat still drying on your skin. “Seriously, thanks for doing this with me,” she murmurs, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.

You stand there, a bit awkward, but aware that this moment matters. “It was kinda… weird, right?”

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, chuckling lightly. “Weird? Of course it was weird. But, like, in a funny way. It was a little bizarre at first, but then it was just… getting into character. In the end, we just… made it work.” She shrugs, and the gesture is so typical of her—practical, lighthearted, never taking things too seriously.

“Next time,” she says, pulling off her tight baby tee, “I’ll pick something less... out of the comfort zone.”

She laughs and casually grabs her panties and skirt from the floor.

You watch as she straightens up and walks toward the bedroom door, already slipping back into her natural self, as if the scene had just been a quick detour from routine.

“Wanna shower with me?” she asks, with no malice, just a simple invitation after a particularly exhausting marathon.

You hesitate, a second that feels like forever. The temptation to give in once more is strong. It’d be so easy to say 'yes,' to go with the flow. But you shake your head, declining. "I'll go later... I need to make the bed."

She raises an eyebrow, surprised by the refusal, but doesn’t push. “Alright,” she says with an easy smile, already heading for the shower. But before she crosses the door, she turns, like she’s about to say something important. You even brace yourself, expecting some post-scene revelation, some deep reflection.

“Feel like pizza tonight?” she asks, with not a trace of tension or seriousness.

“Yeah… I guess,” you reply vaguely, still trying to keep up with how quickly she shifts gears.

And then it’s just you and the messy bed. The camera’s still there, the sheets that need fixing, but what really needs fixing is your head. You wish you hadn’t agreed to film. Hadn’t let her hands on your skin convince you again. But how do you resist Eunbi when, with that smile and a promise, she makes everything seem like one big fun game, a fantasy that’s too easy to fall into?

Except while she can turn off the character with a snap and get back to her practical life, you’re stuck. Because it’s not the role that’s messing with your head, it’s what’s behind it. It’s what you feel for her, something you know shouldn’t exist and that Eunbi clearly doesn’t share. To her, it’s work, pleasure, about views and clicks. And sure, who would turn down being the lucky partner in a porn video with Eunbi?

But at the end of the day, is that all you are? You sigh, trying to focus on fixing the bed, while inside, the knot tightens.

—

It’s a cloudy morning, with that fine misty rain that barely gets you wet but can soak you through if you stand still for two minutes. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on your running shoes. Running is something you used to do every day, a habit you let go of for some reason that now escapes you. But today is different. You’ve decided to start running again because, as always, it helps organize the mental chaos that has become your life lately.

As you pass through the hallway, Eunbi’s bedroom door is half-open. You think about closing it to keep the warmth in, but a glow from inside stops you. It’s the light from her laptop. You hesitate, but of course, your curiosity wins. You peek in as casually as possible, and there she is: Eunbi, sleeping in a way that’s both adorable and awkward, with the laptop still on beside her, like it fell asleep with her, exhausted from hours of work. Or from whatever she spent the night editing.

You can’t help it. In fact, it’s impossible to resist. Seeing her sleep so peacefully stirs something in you, only making the mess in your head worse. Why does she have to be so… Eunbi? You walk over, switch off the laptop that’s still open on the OnlyFans homepage, with the notification icon showing +99 interactions. You close the lid carefully and place it on the desk. Then, you adjust the blankets that are haphazardly draped over her.

She stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up.

—

You start running in the park, with that light rain and cold wind cutting across your face—the kind of weather the meteorologists would call 'uncomfortable,' but you would call 'perfect for clearing your head.' Each step on the wet pavement echoes in your ears. With every breath, your chest tightens, not just from the cold, but because the only thing more intense than the physical effort is the whirlwind of thoughts now screaming in your mind.

Eunbi. Always her. Like a beautiful shadow you can’t shake. The images from last night, the mask, the dirty talk, the way she always seems to know exactly how to melt any resistance you try to build up. You almost laugh, bitterly, realizing just how pathetic it is to be stuck in this cycle.

Fuck, the truth is you’ve been hopelessly in love with her for a while now. Of course, you have, but the problem isn’t knowing it—it’s figuring out what to do about it. You’re running, trying to escape the reality that no matter how much you love Eunbi, she seems to be in a completely different universe. A universe where she can suggest absurd things, like some ridiculous roleplay or a threesome, while you, the idiot, are more worried about the color of the blanket you adjusted for her earlier.

Sweat drips down your forehead, mixing with the rain. You pick up the pace, trying to turn this confusion into clarity. You can’t keep living on this emotional rollercoaster. Every time she involves you, you convince yourself it’s just your body being used as a tool, just another role to play to help her grow in this obscure niche.

But with every touch, every smile, your mind whispers: What if it’s not?

What if, somehow, she’s just as lost in this as you are?

Maybe if you finally tell her how you feel, the pieces will fall into place. She could leave this life of videos, masks, and scripts behind. It would be a release for both of you. And then, you could have something normal. A real relationship. One that doesn’t involve cameras and personas. The idea starts to take shape, becoming clearer with every mile you run. You love Eunbi. Simple. And you need to tell her. Simple as that.

Well, in theory.

The park is empty, except for a few brave souls who also thought running in the cold was a fantastic idea. You run one more lap, your body asking for rest, but your mind now buzzing with purpose. When you get back to the apartment, you’ll tell her. Direct and honest.

Then your phone vibrates. You slow down, your shoes hitting the wet ground more softly as you pull out your phone. A message. It’s from your friend. I think it worked, he writes. Your heart races in a different way this time. HR liked her profile. I think they’re gonna make an offer, man. Stay tuned. You almost slip on the path, coming to a sudden stop.

What worked? Oh, right. The plan.

The plan you secretly put together.

The job opening at the company where your friend works, in the marketing department.

The one where you secretly submitted Eunbi’s LinkedIn profile, trying to give her a chance to get out of this crazy content creator life.

Looks like the damn universe is finally working in your favor.

You find yourself smiling like an idiot.

‘It worked.’

She could have a normal life, away from the cameras, and you could start fresh together.

You barely even feel the fatigue anymore.

Now there’s only one thing left: the conversation with Eunbi.

Because, of course, confessing your feelings to a woman you see every day, who sleeps in the room next to yours, with whom you’ve been through situations that would challenge any definition of ‘strange,’ should be easy, right?

You take a deep breath.

No, it won’t be easy.

But it’ll be worth it.

—

Eunbi is in the kitchen, still looking half-asleep as she holds a cup of coffee. The dim light from the cloudy morning mixes with the cold glow of her phone screen, which she scrolls through lazily with her thumb. The coffee—a blend of ‘I need to wake up’ and’ 'I’m not sure this will help’—warms her hands, but her mind is far from awake. Her reflection on social media, though, is wide awake.

With an automatic gesture, she opens the comment tab on the latest video. It’s the new roleplay video you and she recorded the day before. The video had already racked up an impressive number of views. She sighs, taking a sip as she reads through the comments. It’s the usual mix of praise, teasing, and, of course, the kind of absurdity only the internet can provide.

"Little sis, you drove me crazy today!"

Eunbi lets out a muffled laugh. "Little sis" was probably the mildest term she came across in that sea of comments.

She quickly types a reply:

"Careful, or 'big brother' will get you too! 😘"

"I wish I were your blood brother, damn, just to make it all wrong!! I'd sneak into your room every night after our parents were asleep so we could 'play' together 😈"

Who knew people could take a weird fantasy and make it even more bizarre and unsettling?

"You need therapy, darling, but thanks for the love 🙂"

"The way you bit your lip... it made me... lose my mind."

Ah yes, the detail-oriented observers. They're always around.

"Glad I could help!!"

And then comes the classic:

"Step on me more, mommy!!!"

This time, she laughed out loud. What kind of twisted logic was this?

'Mommy' in a little sister video?

"Sweetie, pick a fantasy. I can't be your little sis AND your mommy at the same time 😅"

"Just show your face already, everyone knows you're hot"

She paused for a second. That comment felt like a jab somewhere inside her. Her face was the last piece she kept hidden, the final wall of protection between Eunbi and the world she had chosen to explore.

She took another sip of coffee as the comments kept popping up on the screen. The amount of absurdity was always a surprise, even for her. But the show had to go on, and responding was an important part of ‘engagement’.

Ah, the wonderful engagement.

"You’re my muse. One day, I’ll marry you!"

She rolled her eyes but kept a polite tone in her reply:

"Glad to inspire... but let’s start with something simpler, like not marrying strangers from the internet.

Kisses 😘"

Next comment.

"I'd give anything to be that tight top on your massive tits 😊"

Eunbi nearly dropped her phone from laughing so hard. What kind of fetish was this now? She took a deep breath before typing:

"Well, it’s actually a baby tee, but I guess clothes live too dull a life for anyone to want to be one. But who am I to judge your dreams?"

Another one popped up right after.

"Hey sis, how about teaching me in person? I’ve got so much to learn... 😏"

Ah, the ever-eager students. She rolled her eyes again, smiling slightly.

"You can learn a lot on your own with a good imagination!"

"You should make a video stepping on Legos barefoot. I bet that would be amazing!!!"

What? Where did these people come from? She bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter as she typed her reply:

"I try to keep my videos at an entertainment level, not torture 🥰 But I appreciate the creativity!"

"It’s obvious you only do this because you love being a slut, I can see it in your expression, even with the mask 🔥 I’m already your number one fan."

Her smile faltered a little. A mix of praise and silent invasion that left her with a mild discomfort.

"Glad you enjoyed the content! Loving what I do is essential. But don’t get too carried away, alright?"

She gave one last glance at the rising view and like counts, but the comments started to lose their charm.

And that’s when the ping of a LinkedIn notification appeared at the top of the screen. An app she had basically forgotten she had installed since the last time she used it was to block an annoying old guy who was pestering her.

She reads the message:

Subject: Job Opportunity - Marketing Department.

Dear Kwon Eunbi,

We are pleased to inform you that your profile has caught the attention of our Marketing Department. After a brief review, we would like to invite you to participate in the selection process for the position of Marketing Analyst.

Responsibilities:

- Development of communication and digital marketing strategies;

- Analysis of KPIs and market trends;

- Collaboration with creative teams and planning advertising campaigns;

Requirements:

- Bachelor’s degree in Marketing or related fields;

- Previous experience managing digital campaigns;

Benefits:

- Competitive salary;

- Health and dental plan;

- Flexibility for hybrid work (remote);

We look forward to your response to schedule an interview.

She almost spits out her coffee.

What the hell is this?!

For a second, everything seemed to make sense, as if the universe was aligning the stars to give her a 'respectable' way out.

But only for a second.

In truth, it felt like the damn universe was conspiring against her.

The thought of waking up early every day, dressing like an executive, sitting in a cubicle, and smiling at people she probably couldn’t stand while doing mechanical tasks...

“No, no, no. No way,” she says aloud in the empty apartment as anxiety starts to tighten around her. And the strangest part is that she feels... bad. Bad for not wanting it. Bad for thinking she should want it.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Maybe she should, right? Maybe being ‘normal’ would be easier. Maybe this whole video thing is just a phase. She looks at her coffee, as if it held the answers, but it only reflected her face back at her. She gulps the rest down, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

On the one hand, the college-era Eunbi would’ve jumped for joy at this message. A great job in her field, something ‘respectable’ career-wise; it doesn’t get much better than that.

Well, to be fair, it wasn’t exactly her big dream, but who, after all, dreams of spreadsheets and endless emails? But now, the idea of a normal life, with bosses, deadlines, and white collars, suffocates her more than any corset in a photoshoot. She’s thinking about how good it felt to leave all that behind, how much she loved the freedom she had now.

Sure, she graduated, but that’s not what she wants.

Not anymore.

But

On the other hand, something inside her hesitated to accept that she didn’t want this opportunity. It was like there was a younger version of her somewhere, screaming in panic: "You can’t be serious, right? Turning down a job like that to... keep being a virtual slut? You’re definitely not me..." And that little voice it's annoying because it hit on an uncomfortable truth. She had, at some point, carved out a different path. A temporary one. And now, this path it's leading her into the unknown, and this offer it's like a way back to her old life.

Monotonous, but dignified.

Difficult, but without exposure.

The safe choice or the leap into the abyss.

College-era Eunbi would say being stuck in an absurd dilemma like this was insane. But the Eunbi of today knows that 'conventional' career isn’t for her.

"This is my life now," she murmurs to herself. Creating adult content wasn’t just a choice; it was her choice. And not only is she going to keep doing it — she’s going all in!

Showing her face.

Now that would be a bold move.

No more masks.

The real Eunbi for the world.

She only has one small obstacle ahead: you. She needs to tell you. Explain how things were about to change. Show you that, even though she once said this was temporary, she’s rediscovered herself and finally found something she’s good at and willing to put her effort into.

She sighs and thinks about the conversation she’ll have. Knowing you, it’s going to be a tough one. You’ll definitely want to argue, try to convince her to take the more traditional route, thinking you’re protecting her. But it’s her life, her body, her decisions.

And if she’s going all in, she has to start by being honest.

When you get back, she’ll lay it all out. In the meantime, she stretches, still feeling the weight of the job offer, and tries to imagine the look on your face when she explains her plans.

—

You come back from the run looking like a drowned rat, which, considering the weather outside, is a reasonably accurate description. Your shoes make that annoying sponge sound as you walk across the room, and Eunbi is there, sitting on the couch, sipping coffee like she’s contemplating the meaning of life—or more realistically, deciding what her next big revelation of the morning is going to be.

“Good morning,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Good morning...” she replies. You look away as if you have something really important to do—like grab a towel.

The bathroom is a good place to rehearse difficult conversations, so you do that while you dry off, but the words still sound wrong in your head. It’s not like there’s a manual on how to confess to your best friend that you’re in love with her after you’ve filmed sex videos together.

It would be helpful if there was.

After grabbing a coffee and taking a sip, bracing yourself for the bomb you’re about to drop, you walk back to the living room. Eunbi is still there, but now you’re looking at each other like two actors who know the big scene is coming, but neither wants to be the first to step on stage.

“We need to talk,” you both say at the same time, which would be funny if it weren’t an absolutely terrible moment for comedy.

“You first,” you say, trying to sound generous.

“No… you, please,” she insists.

“Okay,” you sigh, sitting down on the couch, already feeling the weight of what’s about to happen. The words gather in your throat, like a rescue team about to jump out of a helicopter. “Look, what I’m about to say isn’t easy. In fact, it’s pretty hard. And it could... well, it could change our friendship. Maybe forever.”

Eunbi nods, encouraging you, though her expression clearly says, ‘I know this is big, but I’m going to pretend I’m calm.’

“I love you,” you finally say, the words coming out stronger than you expected. “And no, it’s not just a friend thing. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been feeling this for a while. Since... since we started filming together, actually. Every time we did a scene, something inside me got more confused, like the fake sex was revealing real feelings.”

Eunbi looks at you, surprised, but she doesn’t interrupt, so you keep going. “I thought it was temporary, something that would go away over time, but it only got stronger. And honestly, I can’t keep going like this, pretending nothing’s changed, because it has. I’m in love with you, for real. I want to be with you. Not just filming together, but... living with you, as a couple. I want us to be real.”

You take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension release from your chest, but vulnerability quickly takes its place. Eunbi looks at you, her eyes slightly teary, and then, before anything else, she says, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you repeat, confused.

“For making you film all of this with me. I didn’t know what you were going through. I had no idea it was hurting you inside. If I’d known...” She pauses, trying to find the right words, but they seem as hard for her as they were for you. “I would’ve stopped.”

You shake your head, almost laughing, but not in a happy way. “No, you don’t have to apologize. What matters is now, and now is that... I’m being honest. I love you.”

She smiles, that smile you know so well, but now it seems different, softer, more... meaningful. “I like you too. A lot. And I’m not just saying that because you confessed. It’s weird, you know? I’ve been in relationships before, but it was never like this. We have this... bond, this connection I’ve never had with anyone. And I think, actually, I’ve always felt something for you, I just didn’t know exactly what it was. Now I do.”

She pauses, wiping away a solitary tear that escaped despite her efforts. “I want this too. I want to be with you. For real. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. We’ve spent so much time together, it... feels right. It feels like it’s how it’s supposed to be.”

You feel your heart leap in your chest. It’s surreal, all of this.

“So...?”

“So... I guess we’re together,” she says, still smiling, and this time you feel like the smile is for you, and only you.

“Finally,” you say, half-joking, but it’s an undeniable truth.

Still in the high of the magical moment, your heart beating faster than usual for all the right reasons, you decide now is the perfect moment to drop your second bomb.

“Oh, there’s one more thing,” you say, smiling like someone who just found a lost bill in their coat pocket. “Great news, actually. My friend messaged me. The company where he works loved your profile!! You might be getting a job offer soon!”

You wait for a scream of happiness, a tight hug, or even an improvised celebratory dance, but none of that happens. Eunbi doesn’t react the way you imagined. In fact, she seems to have frozen in place, as if someone hit the pause button on real life.

“So it was you?” she asks, her voice suddenly cold.

“Me?” you repeat, having no idea where this is coming from. “Me what?”

She sighs, like someone on the verge of losing their patience. “I got a job offer on LinkedIn.”

You blink, absorbing the information, and then smile widely. “Oh, so it worked! That’s great! I mean, now you have a chance to get out of this life... right?” But Eunbi’s expression, far from joyful, is one of... anger? Something between irritation and deep disappointment starts to form in her eyes.

“Why the hell did you do that?” she asks, her tone more like a police interrogation than a simple question.

You’re stunned, you feel like you’ve just been slapped in the face. “What? I was trying to help. I just wanted what’s best for you!”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she fires back, her tone growing harsher, like someone who’s been holding something in for a long time and finally let it out.

The ground starts to shift beneath your feet, the romantic and peaceful moment now turning into an unexpected storm. “Drop the pride, Eunbi,” you say, trying to maintain control of the situation. “This is your chance to get out of this life. You don’t have to keep doing... you know, what you’re doing now. And now that we’re on the same page, that you feel something for me too, we can be a real couple. Isn’t that what you want?”

She looks at you for a long, silent moment, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re really as clueless as you seem or if you’re just pretending not to understand what’s happening.

“This has nothing to do with pride,” she says, finally, with a calm that’s more frightening than any scream. “That job offer... it made me feel like crap! It made me rethink everything. Who I am, what I want... And you just... don’t get it.”

You really don’t get it.

Of all the scenarios that ran through your head, this one didn’t even come close to showing up. “I don’t understand. You wanted a stable job in your field, didn’t you?”

She shakes her head, exasperated. “I thought I did. I mean, that was the initial plan when I got fired from my last job. But... I can’t. I don’t want to... What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not going to take that job.”

The silence that follows is so heavy you can almost hear the sound of raindrops hitting the window.

“So, what are you going to do?” you ask, your voice quieter than you expected.

Eunbi looks you in the eye, and suddenly, the full weight of what she’s about to say appears in her expression. “I’m going to keep doing what I do. I’m going to be an adult content creator, but this time, I’m going all in. No more anonymity. I’m going to show my face. That’s what I’ve decided. This is going to be my life now.”

It’s at that moment that your brain, which had been busy processing the joy of the love confession, just stops working.

This wasn’t in the script.

She was supposed to be happy about the job, you were supposed to be celebrating and planning a future as a normal couple.

Not this...

“You... you want to keep doing this?” you ask, incredulity leaking into every word.

She looks at you with a mix of sadness and determination. “Yes. I want to keep doing it. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’re going to have to accept all of that too.”

The words echo in the room. You stand there, looking at her, trying to fit the pieces of this emotional puzzle that, until seconds ago, was a beautiful, simple picture of a future together. Now, it feels more like one of those abstract paintings people pretend to understand.

She takes a deep breath, and you can tell that the emotion is about to overflow. "Look... I really love you. Truly. And if you want, I'll be the happiest woman in the world by your side. But—" she pauses, the word hanging in the air like a sword about to fall, "if you want to be with me, you’re going to have to accept this Eunbi. The Eunbi you see now, who does what she does. And the weight that comes with it."

Silence. You hear your heart pounding in your chest, so loud it's a wonder Eunbi can't hear it too. The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion, the time between blinks stretching out as if the master of time himself is waiting to see what you’ll say. But what can you say? You’re still processing everything. The confession, the proposal, the fact that she wants to continue in this career—and wants you to be a part of it.

"You... you want to... keep going?" The question comes out hesitantly. You can hardly believe you're asking it. The shock is a physical thing, sitting between you like a third person in the room.

Eunbi, her eyes already shining with tears she’s trying so hard to hold back, nods. "Yes. I want to keep going. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’ll have to accept all of that too."

The tears finally fall, one after the other, as if gravity had won the battle she was trying to fight. You watch, unsure if what you’re feeling is fear, sadness, or some strange sense of relief.

Maybe all of it at once.

She continues, her voice now shaky but still steady. “You can think it over, if you want. This is serious. Our parents are going to find out sooner or later. You know the kind of exposure we’ll face... that I’ll face. And if you’re with me, we’ll be facing that together.”

Eunbi looks directly at you, the intensity in her eyes almost painful. “You warned me about this before. You’ve always worried about me. But if you stay with me now, there’s no going back. People we know might find out, they might see. Are you really willing to risk everything because of me?”

Another pause. This time, it’s not dramatic. It’s just a simple pause, where your mind, suddenly overwhelmed by all these emotions, finds a small space of clarity.

And in that space, the decision that seemed so complicated just moments ago suddenly makes sense.

“Yes,” you say, the word leaving your mouth with a calmness that surprises even you. Eunbi’s eyes widen, as if she isn’t sure she heard you right.

“I accept,” you continue, firmly. "I accept you as you are. If this is what you want to do with your life, then that’s fine by me. I’ll be by your side, no matter what."

She stands there, looking at you like you're some kind of alien that just landed on Earth. And then the tears she was holding back finally fall. But this time, they aren’t tears of sadness or anger. They’re something completely different. Relief, maybe. Or raw happiness, the kind you rarely see.

“Are you sure?” she asks, between sobs. "I... I mean, this won’t be easy! You can think about it more. You can really consider what you’re accepting, what it’s going to mean for you, for us."

You give her that half-smile, the one you know always made her feel safe. "Eunbi," you say, calmly, "I’ve already thought about it. I accept the risk, the exposure. I accept you... As long as I’m with you, it’s all okay."

And with that, she falls apart. Not in a sad or uncontrolled way, but in a beautiful, genuine way. She starts crying, but they’re tears of gratitude, of love, of everything she’s held inside for so long.

You step closer and wrap your arms around her, as if trying to protect her from the whole world. She cries into your chest, her words lost between sobs. You kiss the top of her head, taking in the familiar scent of the shampoo she always uses.

"I love you so much," she says through her tears, her voice muffled against you.

"I love you too," you reply, with a sincerity that fills her up from the inside. “We’re in this together.”

And then, there, in the midst of tears, hugs, and confessions, the world seems to align again. The mess it was before starts to make sense.

Okay, maybe it’s not a fairy tale, but who needs a fairy tale ending when you can have something this real, this alive, this raw, this imperfect and yet, somehow, so absolutely perfect?

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

With her.

—

[Rubydden] Three minutes ago

This month, we’re going to skyrocket the quality of our content!!

And to kick things off: FACE REVEAL!!🔥🥳

#kpop smut #kpop male reader #kwon eunbi #eunbi izone #kpop gg smut #kpop m!reader #kpop male oc #eunbi m!reader #m!reader #male reader #eunbi smut #eunbi x male reader #izone smut #izone eunbi #kpop gg #smut oneshot #gg smut

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celuere · 2 months ago

Note

Sister! My guilty pleasure is to be a damsel in distress, there's just something good about being rescued by your beloved no? Getting them to see them become protective, making sure you're secure, Safe and sound, a bonus point if they're usually calm, gets angry rarely but is now seething in rage just because you were in harm's way??? Chef's kiss!

Now..... Consider being kidnapped by the abyss and have Mavuika saving you? Big mistake because you are her beloved and closest confidant (and lover).

I LITERALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF MAVUIKA COMING TO UR RESCUE. Like have you seen her in the second Archon quest? Imagine how ballistic she‘d go if her beloved is in danger. Jwlwnekwkelkwbww pyro women always having me by my THROAT.

pairing: Mavuika x GN!reader

context: look at anon request!

cw: mentions of injuries, angry Mavuika coming to your rescue (literally so hot), kinda detailed description of Mavuika going crazy on her enemies????, written before the events of 5.0, bit fluffy at the end, NOT proofread!

I never really wrote anything like this before so I really hope this is to your liking anon!

When you took part in the latest pilgrimage you knew what to expect. The dangers, the night kingdom, the abyss. They weren’t unfamiliar with you. In fact, as Mavuika‘s -the currently Pyro Archon‘s- right hand and under other circumstances… lover… you were already old acquaintances with the ongoing conflict between the Nation of War and the Abyss.

But you didn’t expect things to go so horribly wrong.

A vacation. That’s all you thought it would be. You were the last person to ever struggle in the Night Kingdom, always looking out for the younger and inexperienced, never making a single mistake. Ensuring a successful mission with little to no injuries, nobody ever died under your guidance through corrupted realm.

But every hero is bound to mess up at one point.

Clutching your bloodied shoulder with your injured hand, the claws of a Rifthound barely missed your head as you rushed up whatever path opened up to you. You miscalculated. And it was only thanked to your quick reflexes that your whole troupe didn’t got wiped out with a single strike but every success in the Night Kingdom demands an equal sacrifice. Chasca didn’t have that luck.

And now you were stuck in the Night Kingdom. The only exit being sealed from the outside after you helped an injured Kinich make it out in time. It was either him or you and there was no way in hell you would’ve left him here on his own with a broken arm so you quite literally threw the already hurting young man over your shoulder and right into the portal, being left completely alone against a horde of at least 50 abyssal monsters.

Exhaustion was pulling at your muscles, the endless running and dodging drawing the air out of your lungs faster than you‘d like. Ribcage burning from your rapid intakes of oxygen but fighting wasn’t an option, there were just simply too many of them. Of course, you tried but all that earned you was a knife being rammed into your left thigh which only cut deeper into your flesh with each meter your feet carried you. Celestia knows how much longer you will last like this.

Reaching the end of the cliff you were running up to, no other option was left other than to jump down. Without a lake to catch up your fall, you took the leap and the moment your legs came in contact with the hard ground, you were pretty sure you broke more than just both your legs according to the almost mind-shattering pain shooting through your spine.

The pain scream leaving your mouth would have probably been enough to shatter a mirror, your eyes started to water, but not only at the mere agony you find yourself in as you stared in horror at the enemies closing in.

You won’t get to see her again. Won’t get to see her beautiful face next to you every morning, nor those ridiculous sunglasses she wore so often. When she pressed her lips to your cheek this morning, you would’ve never thought to be your last. Does Mavuika know just how much you love her? How much you cherish her in your heart? Did you say those three words often enough for her to be remember them at your funeral? Would she hate herself for letting you go? Or for how often she scolded you for drinking too often to your hearts content with Xilonen? You hoped she didn’t. Hoped she will continue living on without you.

Staring up at the starry sky above you, a sword was raised right above you. The only regret you had was not loving her enough. How you won’t be there when she finally -once and for all- triumphs over the abyss. How you won’t be there for the love of your life to celebrate the victory, the ultimate goal of her life.

A last wish left your lips in a faint whisper as a shooting star came flying towards you as death‘s clock chimed in twelve for you.

But instead of your anticipated beheading, something close to a meteorite came down crashing in front of you. The sheer heat radiating from the collision along with the dust being thrown your way, you shut your eyes closed as your ears became witnesses of the most terrifying and gut wrenching sounds.

There were bones being cracked, skulls being crushed, rifthounds being ripped apart as far as you could make out. Someone was ripping the Abyss to literal shreds before you. And maybe you were next.

From one moment to the next, silence started to echoe through the realm. The only sound to be heard - someone taking harsh breath. Then something heavy falling to the floor, followed by the sound of footsteps rushing up to you.

That’s it. They wanted to finish you off with their bare hands.

„[…]!!“

Ripping open your eyelids in pure shock at the familiar voice, your beloved dropped to her knees in front of you.

Mavuika. Dropped to her knees in front of you.

„Thank the stars you’re alive-!! Kinich and the others immediately notified me of the situation and-”, the rest of her words were drowned out as you stared in disbelief up at her, still clutching your broken shoulder with your hand. Even the pain coming from your legs and spine were to be quickly forgotten as you stared up at your wife‘s worried face.

Even those ridiculous glasses grazing the bridge of her nose. You were never happier to see that specific pair of glasses in your entire life.

She came.

She came to your rescue.

„….-get you to a doctor-!“, the sentence only now registered in your brain, the pain came shooting right back at you and you couldn’t stop the pained cry from leaving your mouth, black spots starting to adorn your wife‘s face as your eyelids became so incredibly heavy-

Maybe you were celebrating a bit too early when consciousness was ripped away from you.

———————

„Their injuries might take a few good months to heal. They will need a wheelchair for the time being until the bones are healed enough to talk about further steps.“, dread settled in Mavuika‘s stomach at the Doctor‘s diagnosis. That would mean no fighting or training for you. Something you won’t like. At all.

„I understand… I appreciate everything you did, Doctor. See you tomorrow.“, bidding her goodbye, Mavuika quietly sneaked into your room. There you were. The completely lower half of your scarred body wrapped in bandages. The sight tugged at her heart. But at least you were still asleep, only waking up for a good few minutes to take in a meal and maybe a trip to the toilet, the pain being suppressed by a few special herbs Madam Citlali mixed together.

Her eyes wandered over your peaceful face, the cut on your cheek still healing. And yet you were the most beautiful thing she ever laid her eyes upon. A fact that will never change.

When the news of your predicament reached her, Mavuika never acted so fast. Never in her life before did she summon a portal to Night Kingdom this fast. Fear. Fear was something that always accompanied her whenever she sent off the winners of the pilgrimage into a new fight. But what possessed her that day wasn’t fear.

It was terror. Cold terror. The mere thought of a life without you was unbearable to her, igniting a completely new flame inside of her that blinded her in that very moment she reached you right before you looked into death‘s very eyes. Will she ever let you participate again? If it goes after her, no. Never again. But she knew you well enough to know you would never let that happen, never let her carry the burden of Natlan‘s fate alone.

She will break it to you when you can actually stay up for longer than fifteen minutes. Your recovery and wellbeing were her top priority at the moment and such life changing news were to be handled delicately. For now she sat down besides you, hand wrapping around your bandaged one as her thumb stroked over the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

She will wait for your next awakening for as long as needed.

#genshin impact #mavuika #mavuika x reader #mavuika genshin #x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #natlan #albarequests #genshin women x reader #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #pyro archon

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flowerandblood · 7 months ago

Text

Refinement (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, oral sex, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagement ]

[ description: During her Name Day, his younger sister wants to run away to the city. Things don't go according to plan, however, and he, as her older brother, wants to comfort her. Anon request. ]

Part 3 of the Appearances, can be read as standalone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

To his delight, the months before their nuptials he and his younger sister spent in each other's constant company, growing closer to each other. At first she would shyly visit the places he usually frequented, the library or the courtyard, and he was content to interrupt his own affairs by having at least a short conversation with her.

Although he resented discussions about nothing, usually tired of them, with her he could have a light conversation all the time − her questions and answers were always thoughtful and balanced, sometimes filled with a sweet naivety or curiosity from which he felt the heat in his lower abdomen.

"Today is my Name Day, lēkia (big brother)." She cooed sweetly, grasping his fingers in hers − his hand against hers seemed rough and large to him, hers, on the other hand, smooth and delicate as silk.

He murmured under his breath, looking at their intertwined fingers thinking back to the evening the day before, when he had guided her hand under the material of his breeches again, as usual demanding relief, which he then reciprocated with his characteristic devotion.

He wanted her to be convinced that he would make a good husband.

"I know, dōna hāedar (sweet little sister)." He replied calmly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, thinking of the gift he had prepared for her, a beautiful necklace created especially at his command. A girlish, happy smile appeared on her face, a kind of excitement and anticipation emanating from her that intrigued him.

Something was going through her mind.

"There's one thing I've been dreaming about." She whispered, and he leaned back, stretching comfortably in his chair; they sat together under a beautiful, ancient arbour surrounded by a garden, opposite them only the view of the sea, spreading low beneath the walls of the keep, the sound of wind and leaves all around them.

"What is it?" He asked lowly, fiddling with the small ring on her finger which he had given her just after their father had officially confirmed their betrothal.

A symbol that she was meant only for him, the sapphire eye surrounded by a frame of intertwined golden stems and leaves shone brightly in the sunlight.

He heard her twist in her seat, delighted apparently that he had asked the question. She grunted quietly.

"I wish to escape to the town tonight." She said lightly. He looked at her with a smirk full of amusement and indulgence, convinced that she was teasing him.

"On the dragon?" He asked mockingly and pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing hard when he felt her take her hand from his grasp, her gaze clouded, her brow arched in pain of humiliation and disbelief.

She stood up from her seat and, shocked, he watched her silhouette disappear between the tall shrubs with his lips slightly parted, wondering what had happened. He moved behind her immediately, sighing impatiently − as he got closer he grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. She looked him straight in the eye, tears of rage in her eyes.

"− forgive me, I didn't wish to −"

"You can leave the keep whenever you desire. You can fly on Vhagar whenever you desire. But I can't. I am a prisoner of these walls, our mother does not allow me to travel anywhere. Is that what amuses you so much? Is that what you mock?" She asked in a shaky, embittered voice, wiping the tears from her red cheeks with her free hand, her lower lip quivering with nerves.

He touched his fingers to her cheek, but she rejected his hand, making him put more strength into pulling her close − she hissed in discomfort when his fingers tightened on her waist covered only by the thin material of her soft gown.

"I would never mock you, sister. However, you know it is not a matter of our mother's bad will, but of your safety." He replied slowly, trying to say each word with reason so as to explain to her that he did not intend to offend her.

He understood what she desired, but he would have gone mad at the thought of her leaving the keep only in the company of the guards.

"What danger would I be in if my betrothed accompanied me?" She muttered with a bitterness from which he felt his throat squeeze, only now understanding what she was trying to convey to him.

She wasn't complaining to him.

He swallowed loudly and hummed under his breath.

"Is this what my future wife desires?" He asked quietly. She looked at him with a pained expression and nodded, looking into his eyes with hope.

Having no other choice, albeit reluctantly, he agreed.

They made arrangements to meet at one of the side passages that were rarely patrolled by guards − both of them sneaked down the narrow stone steps clad in grey robes and cloaks under the cover of darkness, the sky above them cloudless and full of stars.

"You are to stay close to me. Understood?" He asked warningly, and she nodded quickly, looking up at him happily, her plump cheeks red with excitement and joy.

He murmured low, delighted when her warm, soft lips clung to his in a tender, sticky kiss − he locked her in the strong embrace of his arms, cupping one of her cheeks in his palm, her fingers stroking his neck and jaw making his manhood throb hard in his breeches. He pulled away from her and sighed heavily, tense.

"Let's go."

It seemed to him that as they stepped out into the main courtyard of the town, lit only by torches and bonfires kindled by night merchants and bards, she was intrigued by everything that was happening around her − his fingers entwined with hers as they walked arm in arm around the crowds of shouting, noisy people. She looked up at him with a wide smile and hugged her cheek to his shoulder when she noticed his anxious, grave face.

"− I am grateful to you for your dedication, my love −" She said softly and he sighed heavily, kissing the top of her head.

He wanted to return to the keep as quickly as possible, fearing for her safety, but she insisted that they move towards the various stalls, watching intently as the men roasted meat over large fires, which they then sold. They stopped hearing a theatrical play from a distance, men dressed as women pretending to be his mother and their stepsister, Rhaenyra.

"You will not take the crown! My son the drunkard will sit on the Iron Throne!" Thundered one of the men in a too-tight green gown, his voice pretending to be high and feminine − a third actor appeared on stage, a blond-haired young man who was apparently supposed to be Aegon.

When the man began to pretend to vomit while clutching their mother's breasts, loud, mocking laughter echoed all around them. He saw that his sister looked away, her lips pressed together, her eyebrows arched in confusion and embarrassment.

"Let's go." He said lowly, regretting that she had seen this, but believing on the other hand that even if he had wanted to, he could not keep her unconscious forever.

The kingdom had no love for them, and their safety was apparent.

"I regret asking you to do this. Forgive me." She muttered as he escorted her to her chamber, the joy and contentment gone from her face, replaced by sadness and disappointment. He lifted her chin with his finger for her to look at him, recognising that he should better prepare her for what awaited them.

"The kingdom is divided. The only thing that unites our family now is the person of the King. Nothing else." He said lowly, and she blinked, thinking about his words, swallowing hard after a moment.

"And our blood? Our heritage?" She asked uncertainly, and he involuntarily snorted at her words, shaking his head.

"If our sister had our heritage, dignity and the future of our lineage in mind, she would not have made her bastard son her heir to the throne." He hissed coldly, looking her straight in the eye − he knew something had changed in his face, from which she twitched all over, in her expression something he recognised well.

She was afraid of him.

"− sister −" He whispered softly, stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, wanting her to understand that although filled with anger, he would never harm her.

"Against good customs, will you stay by my side? Will you let me fall asleep in your arms?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed loudly, feeling his manhood momentarily swell and pulse in his breeches, betraying an overwhelming desire to comply with her request.

He hesitated, wondering what their mother would say, but seeing her pleading gaze and her need for closeness, he decided that he could not deny her his presence when she articulated that she needed him.

He was to be her husband and she was to be his wife.

His place was with her, always.

That was why he agreed and followed her into her quarters, looking around beforehand to make sure no one would disturb them. They both pulled off their cloaks − his sister turned her back to him, startling him completely when she untied her breeches and the simple grey tunic he had brought her earlier, staying only in her snow-white nightgown.

He looked away, embarrassed, feeling his heart pounding like mad, not knowing what to do with himself.

He had never seen her in such a negligee before, and although his whole body screamed to look at her and admire her beauty, he wasn't sure it was appropriate and worthy of her honour before their nuptials.

"Come, brother." He heard her soft, warm voice once she had laid down on the bed, extending her hand to him.

He moved towards her, pulling his boots off his feet, laying down beside her with his heart in his throat, involuntarily noticing the outline of her sweet breasts under the thin, translucent material of her shirt.

He sighed quietly as her whole body snuggled into him instantly, seeking protection and comfort − unwittingly his arms locked around her waist, his hands sinking into her hair and buttocks, his lips placing a warm, lazy kiss on the top of her head.

It was her Name Day, and she was distressed and frightened, to which he had unwittingly contributed.

He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling involuntarily guilty, not knowing what he could do to comfort her, to turn her thoughts again from what the future might have brought.

He, her husband, was supposed to protect her and their future children − it was his role to worry about what fate would bring, not hers.

He shuddered when he heard her quiet voice, combing through her soft dark hair with the tips of his fingers.

"If I am to become your wife, why do you treat me like a little child?" She asked regretfully, and he felt his hand stop in mid-motion, the air stuck in his lungs.

"I do not follow." He replied lowly, feeling discomfort in his chest hearing her words.

She raised herself up on her elbow, looking up at his face − her eyebrows were arched in sadness and uncertainty, her full, shiny lips clenched into a thin line. He dared to touch his thumb to her cheek, wanting to soften whatever was about to leave her mouth.

"If war is coming, you may need me and Saraxes. Just because bloodshed is not my desire does not mean I am blind. Do you think I'm not a true dragon because I don't have your white hair and violet eyes?" She asked in a trembling voice with a reproach and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

The thought that she had felt rejected and left out by everyone all this time like himself made him quickly lift himself up on his arm, pressing his nose against her soft face, her hot, trembling breath enveloping his face.

"No. No, my love. You must understand that it is my weakness towards you, it is my fear that makes me wish not to endanger you." He muttered, horrified at how she perceived the whole affair and his actions, that he, gods take pity, thought her foolish or incapable of understanding such complicated, male matters.

She read the same books as he did, spoke to him as an equal on subjects from which he would never have expected a woman to have extensive rhetoric, not because he thought them incapable of it, but because they rarely delved into it.

Yet here she was, well aware of the importance he attached to sword-fighting, knowing as much about his history of the various weapons, their parts and how they were used as she knew about poetry or philosophy.

She swallowed quietly, her eyes shining in trust, in hope, as his mouth brushed hers encouragingly, her lips parted invitingly, allowing his tongue to slide deep into her throat.

She moaned sweetly, innocently as the tips of their tongues licked each other tentatively with a quiet clicks again and again − she sighed as he gently pushed her to lie on her back, trailing his fingers over her soft face, the wonderful scent of her oils filling his entire lungs, her lips fleshy as sweet fruit.

"− brother −" She murmured between their loud, tender kisses, her fingers entwined in his hair, one of her hands removing his eye patch from his face with an impatient, confident motion.

He looked at her, at her pretty face without fear or shame, sure for several moons now that the sight of his scar, his sapphire eye did not frighten her, that she loved him whole.

His sweet, tender, devoted sister.

She pulled him to her by the neck, her lips, impatient that he had pulled away from her for so long demanded another warm caress, his slick tongue ran over her palate making him, though he tried to control himself, completely hard.

"− take me −" She whispered and he felt the air stuck in his throat − he broke the kiss, looking at her with eye wide open in shock, panting heavily, her cheeks flushed with shame, her gaze pleading, full of desire. "− please −"

"− I − gods, you know, you know how much I crave you − but we can't, not before our nuptials −" He muttered wearily, once again seeing on her face that cruel expression of embittered disappointment that was breaking his heart.

He suddenly remembered what Aegon had once told him about, how a man's tongue was capable of giving a woman wonderful pleasure, and though he was ashamed to ask him for details, he decided in an act of desperation that perhaps it would help.

His gift to her, proof of how much he cherished her.

"− let me do something else − do you trust me? −" He asked in a trembling voice − something in her gaze changed and she nodded quickly, her fingertips ran over his cheek in a gesture so tender he felt his throat clench with emotion.

She was perfect.

"− spread your thighs − do not fret −" He added quickly, seeing that her whole body had gone breathless and tensed at his words, uncertainty in her eyes. He heard her swallow hard as she obediently followed his command, she drew in a loud breath as his hands lifted the material of her nightgown higher, above her hips.

"− ah −" She mumbled, in some subconscious, innocent gesture trying to cover herself back up, horrified that he wanted to expose the most intimate part of her body − his hands stopped her, his gaze fixed on her face flushed with emotion.

"− let me, my sweetest − let me take care of you − I won't hurt you −" He whispered, and she pulled her hand back, placing it beside her face, her puffy lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.

She trusted him.

She trusted that, as her future husband, he knew perfectly well what she needed.

He let out a loud breath through his mouth, trying to hide his own nervousness, his trembling hands gently exposing her swollen, leaking womanhood that he had caressed so often with his fingers.

He involuntarily licked his lips at the thought that her folds looked like the flesh of a fruit and indeed when he ran his thumb over them, they were as usual wonderfully moist and warm to the touch.

Her body arched backwards as he began to gently tease her puffy bud with circular, slow motions of his thumb, in some subconscious involuntary reflex her thighs spread wider in front of him, making his aching cock pulse hard in his breeches.

Gods, how much he wanted to take her now, to sink deep inside her, to feel how tight she was.

"− close your eyes −" He commanded, knowing that if she looked at him he would never do what he wanted out of shame − he heard her swallow loudly before closing her eyelids a moment later, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

She trembled when she felt him lean in, his warm breath enveloping her now swollen folds, glistening in the starlight from her own wetness − something about the sight, the smell of her made him run the tip of his tongue over her slit, her hands clenched in his hair, her body arched back, wanting to escape, a loud, surprised moan escaped her lips.

"− g-gods − brother − what are you −" She whimpered and cried out as the fingers of his free hand tightened warningly on her plushy hip, pushing her back to him, his thumb squeezed and rubbed her pearl making her squirm before him in pleasure and disbelief.

"− be quiet −" He ordered impatiently, sinking his face into her soft, warm womanhood, his tongue ran over her folds again, invading between them for a try, teasing her swollen bud with his finger.

He sighed loudly as he felt how hard her legs trembled in his embrace, heard her tighten her lips and stifle the moans that wanted to escape her throat, felt his cock twitch hard as her fingers pressed him closer to her bare flesh.

She wanted more.

"− brother −" She mumbled, spreading her thighs wider, wanting to feel him deeper − encouraged, he forced his tongue inside her, invading the very tip of her upper wall and the spot where he usually dug his fingers in, teasing her pearl with strokes of his thumb. He felt her fleshy, hot, tight core begin to throb, the wonderful taste of her moisture spreading across his palate, making him gasp in delight.

He could already understand why Aegon had spoken of it with such enthusiasm.

She tasted wonderful, like the flesh of a ripe fruit, ready to sink in and bite into it.

His sweet sister.

"− mmm −" He gasped out, pushing his tongue all the way into her, feeling her hips begin to respond to his movements with rocking of her hips, reaching out to meet him. He licked and sucked her pearl, rubbing it with the tip of his nose, still pressing it with his thumb, a quiet, lewd sound of slurping and clicking of her wetness all around them.

At last she fell apart, a long, intense fulfilment shook her lovely body, sweet, girlish, innocent whimpers erupted from her lips − she begged him, babbled his name, calling him, pressing his face against her leaking cunt, delighted that he was licking devotedly everything that spilled out of her.

"− my sister's sweet nectar −" He gasped with devotion and delight, again and again rubbing her opening with his rough tongue. His hand slipped down to his breeches, sliding under them, grasping his swollen, aching cock, squeezing it at the base, not stopping his caresses, intending to pet her like this all night and come on his own hand.

"− brother − no more −" She mumbled out, terrified that he wasn't stopping, her over-stimulated, sore insides clenching greedily around nothing, her hands trying to gently push him away but to no avail − he only hummed under his breath, stunned by the warmth of her flesh, her closeness and her scent.

She smelled like sin.

"− I'm afraid I intend to fall asleep tonight with my face between your soft thighs, my love −"

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drawnfamiliarfaces · 1 month ago

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1.) Height comparisons? Tallest to shortest? I ways felt that Danny was tallest with Randy as the shortest, but Ben feels small too? And Rex feels giant.

2.) What would Jenny and Rex look like with Upgrade on them?If you have any concepts of them?

I love these little guys, btw they make me so happy!

1.) I actually have a height chart I never posted! I am STILL not completely locked in about them, but I've been holding onto it for a year, so I think I can post it since Ive not worked on it much. xD So while small details might vary in any future plot development, this is a rough height comparison for the HoMies:

My reasonings are that canonically (? at least according to Wikias) Jenny is at least 2 meters tall in the show. Which is a lil questionable, but I just headcanon her around that height, but it can vary depending on her transformations. In any case she is a tall Amazonian Mechanical Goddess.

Both Danny and Zak have very tall genes from both sides of their families. Jack F. is a freaking tank unit of a man, and while Maddie is probably somewhere above average height, her sister Alicia is built af, so there are some tall genes on their side of the family. Doc and Drew are both pretty tall, and Doyle too, so chances of Zak being on a taller side are very good.

Jun canonically has very long legs (which was mentioned as too long for an 11 y.o. to which I relate a lot, because I was very tall at 11 too xD) & Randy is a very noodly boy, so I feel like they will grow pretty tall. But Randy is also very slight in built which will make him seem smaller.

Ben in his alt futures is supposedly very tall, but Omniverse throws a curve with him suddenly seeming smaller at 16, so?? I kinda settled on him being kinda average male height, which can go either way when he gets older.

Rex is kinda opposite, because at 16-17 he is pretty tall, but not overly huge (considering that he is still shorter than Six but only a little taller than Holiday on heels, so he is taller than average female height), but I headcanon him having grown tall very early. So I kind of settled on another average that can go either way as years go.

And yes, he is a little taller and buffer than Ben, because when they swapped jackets in Heroes United, Ben's jacket is tighter on him and that fact is forever my favorite headcanon. xD

Jake and Kim are short monarchs! Well, compared to others, lol xD. In reality they are only a few inches/cm lower than average heights! I am a big fan of Jake being a short powerhouse (its also supported by his genetics, mainly by his grandfather Lao Shi, who is pretty short even when he was younger) in his human form, which doesn't affect his dragon form. Kim is a small lean power machine - she is small, agile and fast, for a normal human.

2.) Oh! I did have another idea I sort of toyed with (A sort of 'fusions' for HoMies for another old ask I got, but I never got around to drawing them lol sorry), but I never actually drew anything like that! This is a fun idea to doodle-

After the finale Rex has changed and I would like to think that Ben will notice! After all becoming a god temporarily would be something of an upgrade! xD And tbh I think Jenny, as a sentient machine would not particularly enjoy being Upgraded! It would feel a little bit like possession, but with a side effect of your guts being rearranged without your consent, like?? yikes

Aaaaaa, thank you!!! I'm so glad people get joy from this crossover, even if im so inconsistent with actually posting staff for it QvQ <3

#que?#hom au q&a #hom au #i decided to bite the bullet and share the height chart xD since i already have been kinda using it as a guide and all #jenny wakeman #rex salazar #jenny xj9 #ben tennyson

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thebestsetter · 2 months ago

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Imagine Barou Shohei deciding to spend a day having fun with his little sisters.

They dress him up like a princess, do his hair and put make up on him. And then he takes them to the park cause the girls wanted to play on the playground. And they didn't let him take the things off, cause according to them he turned out "so pretty!!". So, he just followed their orders like the great older brother he is.

Everything was fine, they were all having fun on the slides and swingers when all of a sudden...

"Pfft... Barou?! Is that you?"

Fuck.

You were there. You were the last person he wanted to see right now, while he had pink eyeshadow on his eyes and was wearing pink fairy wings.

"H-he even has a little crown!"

"He's not a maid anymore, he's a princess. Princess Barou"

"BAROU-KUN, SAY HI TO THE CAMERA!!"

No way. Isagi, Nagi and Bachira were here too.

Fuck. This was the worst situation he has ever been in.

"Turn. The camera. Off." He gritted

"Nah, I don't want to!!" Bachira smiled

"Focus on his blush!" Isagi laughed, and even Nagi was smiling a little

"He's wearing little bows on his hair!! Film them, Meguru!" You also laughed at him

He couldn't take the embarassment anymore.

"Turn this shit the fuck off or else I swear I'll fucking..."

"Sho?" He felt a tug on the pink ballet tutu he was wearing "Who are these people?"

"Yeah! Do they want to play with us?" Appeared a little girl on his other side

"Ownn, are they your younger sisters, Barou?" You giggled and crouched to match their height "They're soo cutee!!!"

"Thank you, miss" one of them smiled

"You're very pretty too!" The other one added, which made you almost melt

"Were you the ones who made this excelent work on Barou-chan?" Bachira asked them, finally turning off the camera

"Yeah!! Do you guys want to be princesses too?" They asked, eyes lighting up "We brought our make up kits with us!"

"Of course!!" You smiled at them, petting their heads "Turn me into the prettiest princess, please!"

"No way!" Bachira said "I'll be the prettiest one!"

"Well, if you're all going to participate, I will too." Isagi added, laughing

"Sounds like a hassle to get the make up off" Nagi said "I'll just watch you all"

"Come on mister! Let us at least do your hair!"

"Yeah Nagi, it's gonna be fun!" You tried to reason

"Boooo! Don't be a party pooper, Nagi!" Bachira suported

"Pretty pleasee" the girls said, batting their eyelashes

"I don't want to"

"I'll buy you a new character on that idiotic game of yours if you participate" Barou sighed, seeing as his sisters were almost crying (and he hated seeing them cry)

"Deal."

And so, you all spent the whole day having fun and playing with his sisters.

Sadly, the fun time came to an end.

"You're a great brother, Barou" you said to him when you were all parting ways

"Huh?"

"They're happy." You pointed to his sisters, who were playing tag with Bachira and Isagi "Thank you for making them happy"

You smiled at him, making him blush. Gladly, his make up was so strong that you couldn't see it.

"No big deal" he managed to compose himself

"Sho! Are they already going home?" His sisters interrupted the moment

"Yes, they are. You spent the whole day playing already. Come on, let's go" he grabbed his sisters arms and waved goodbye to you all

In the middle of the walk home, the youngest sister asked something that made Barou so surprised he almost jumped.

"Can your girlfriend play with us again tomorrow?"

"Girlfriend?!" Barou said with a high-pitched voice, but quickly calmed down "She's not my girlfriend"

"Why?? She's sooo pretty! And so nice, too! Call her tomorrow! The four of us can all go to the park together!" His sister begged

"...I'll see about that" he sighed and smiled, thinking about you playing with his siblings (and also wondering how great of a mother you'd be, not that he's ever admit it out loud)

The girls wanted to play with you on the park, just you four alone without anyone else to intervee. And what kind of brother would Barou be if he declined his little sisters' wishes?

It's not like it would be a date or anything, right?

Secretly, his sisters high five each other. They really liked you. It would be a shame not to have you in the family as Shohei's girlfriend. They're little geniuses, aren't they?

~ A/N: TAGGING THE BIGGEST BAROU FAN I KNOW @sharkissm

THIS ONE'S FOR YOU CAUSE THERE ARE TOO LITTLE BAROU FICS AND YOU DESERVE ONE. ☝️

Also, not proofread. This is basically just a word vomit lol

Masterlist

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk manga #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #barou shoei x reader #bllk barou #barou x reader #barou shouei #blue lock barou #bllk isagi #blue lock bachira #bllk nagi

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wlntrsldler · 8 months ago

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poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

series masterlist | previous | next

there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage.

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land.

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace.

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey.

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there.

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go.

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.”

you didn’t need to tell him twice.

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day.

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.”

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.”

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan.

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy.

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.”

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.”

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know.

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?”

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.”

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.”

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.”

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.”

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.”

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return.

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.”

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.”

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?”

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.”

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.”

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?”

he turned to you, “five star?”

“what are we doing?”

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next.

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.”

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.”

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start.

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–”

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.”

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?”

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows?

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.”

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.”

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.”

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.”

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“let me hear the song.”

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!”

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.”

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.”

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.”

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.”

“we really need to get out of bed.”

“five more minutes?”

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again.

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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f1girliefics · 8 months ago

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In Love with a Red Flag

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: To say that you hated him wasn’t accurate. But you didn’t like him. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a distance from. And yet, he will be the closest to you.

A/N: I realise this idea is not unique, shout-out to all the other amazing writers who wrote a similar piece!

“Ferrari PR team came up with a solution to solve the problem. Together with the Mercedes PR team, we agreed that the best course of action would be to have you and Charles play pretend.”

You looked at Toto in disbelief.

You and Charles? Play pretend?

You knew that due to Ferrari’s latest issues with their cars, along with Mercedes’ own issues became such an issue that the teams began to lose fans.

So, PR being PR sat down and came up with a wicked idea.

Having you and Charles date, well, fake date.

According to both teams, you would become the next phenomenon and the fans would come right back.

All Toto could do was simply nod.

You let out a long sigh.

You have always tried your best to avoid Charles. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a good distance from. You knew about his method of dating.

The women he dated and how often he changed girlfriends. It was a huge red flag.

Much like his car, red all over.

You turned and looked at Charles who was just as surprised if not more than you.

“I will be looking forward to working with you, Charles.” You said with a smile as you looked at him.

You were on a yacht with him.

Soft launch as the teams called it. They knew the paparazzi would be watching. All you had to do was to act all lovely-dovely but not do too much.

You two being on the same boat would be enough.

With an ice cream in one hand, you headed to the deck, trying to get a little tan during your weekend off.

Charles soon joined you, sitting down next to you, you moved a bit closer to him.

“There’s a guy on the boat in front of us, he has a huge camera, and yet he thinks we didn’t notice him.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Charles smiled and so did you. “You know last year… in Hungary… you had that press event with the fans.”

“Oh, yeah! That was fun, I even wore a traditional dress. Kalocsai, I believe it’s called.”

“That one, yes. I remember, what about it?”

“I remember you being so… beautiful.”

“Thank you. But where did this come from?”

“You avoid me. I noticed you avoid me and Carlos. Why? Do you hate Ferrari that much?”

“Red is not really my colour.” You say, avoiding his eyes. “Especially not red flags.” You said before you got up and headed into the yacht.

The paparazzi sure got a nice picture.

The same afternoon, you were all over the news. You did it. One step closer to the finish line.

You thought of this as if it was another race.

You just had to get to the finish line. This time around, you didn’t care about the placements.

You just wanted this to be over with.

The next time you had to go out with Charles was during a charity event. You were given a beautiful silver dress to wear while Charles was in a black suit.

He looked good. Probably way too handsome for his own good.

You didn’t like how he didn’t make it easy to keep a distance. He was kind, attentive, and really fucking handsome.

He had an arm around you at all times.

“I will bring us something to drink.”

“A gin tonic would be lovely.” You replied and he nodded.

This was the only time he let you out of his arms. And if you were honest. You kinda missed it.

No.

This can’t be.

You cannot fall for him. You will not!

Toto walked over to you, complimenting your dress and dedication.

“This little PR thing works like a charm. Our team gained almost half a million new followers since last week.” Of course that is all he would care about. For now, at least, Toto had a sweet spot for you so it was only a matter of time for him to save you from this.

Fans come and go.

But your contract with him was clear. And even without that, he liked you very much. He often said you are like a younger sister to him.

“Good to know at least the plan worked.” Was your reply?

“And what about you and Charles?” He asked and you were a bit taken aback. “You two play your parts a little too well.”

“Oh please, like I would fall for a guy like him.” You replied and took a sip from your glass.

Toto only laughed a little.

You however failed to notice that Charles heard everything you said.

He simply paid his part and handed you your new drink.

On your way back home, Charles was sitting in the back of the limo with you.

“What did Toto say to you?” He asked suddenly and you turned from the window to look at him.

“He said our teams gained a lot of new fans. He looked excited about it.”

“Anything else?”

“Hm?”

“Did he ask about anything else?”

“No, he then just started to talk about the new sponsors.”

“I see.” Was his simple reply.

The next planned date was a dinner in a restaurant.

You got to wear casual clothes and feel like a human again.

You planned on eating possibly the best food you can find.

So you ordered a nice juicy hamburger with fries and a huge lemonade. Then you ordered a steak with mashed potatoes.

Charles looked rather impressed that you could eat so much.

If you were honest, you had a great time with him. You two were talking a lot. He showed you a side which not many people could see.

“Can I ask you something?” He said, suddenly becoming very serious.

“Sure.”

“When you were talking with Toto last week, you said something which really stuck with me. You said you wouldn’t fall for a guy like me. What did you mean by that?”

“I-“ this took you off guard. Should you be honest? But you also didn’t want to lie. “Everyone knew about your dating life. It was no secret and… it is a huge red flag.”

“Red flag?”

“Yes. You date one woman then you date their friend… it is a red flag.”

“And that’s why you avoided me?”

“Yes.” You said right away, which probably wasn’t the best.

You could see your words hurt him.

You wanted to say something else but then he suddenly stood up and excused himself to the bathroom.

You should have said something.

But you didn’t. And it hunted you for the upcoming weeks.

“You did good, Y/N. P3!”

“Thank you, Toto!” You drove another round, smiling and waving at the fans even if they couldn’t see you.

Max, P1, Charles, P2 and you, P3. It was a good race.

But you felt so awkward around Charles.

As they took you to your interviews, you suddenly stopped Charles.

“Charles.”

“We have an interview to do.” He wanted to walk away but you caught him.

“I misjudged you. I wanted to tell you back at the restaurant. I misjudged you. I had a great time with you, even if it was all pretend. I needed you to know.” Your assistant came to get you to see why you weren’t coming, so you headed to the interview.

Charles soon followed you.

You had one week left.

One week of fake dating.

The last seven days.

Why did it make you sad?

You should have known, but ultimately, you fell in love.

You fell in love with a red flag.

And you wanted to tell him, but how?

It was all too much.

For the last week, the teams came up with a simple idea, something to give a base to your upcoming breakup.

It was meant to be easy.

You should act like you hate each other, possibly even argue a little here and there. You two should look like you two hate one another.

But, it didn’t exactly go as planned.

You smiled too much, you laughed too hard. It didn’t look like you were a couple ready to break up, you looked like the exact opposite.

You were a couple fully in love.

At least you were.

You two ended up in a café, enjoying your coffee and tea while you had a small conversation.

“What you said, before the interview last week. I understand how my actions can seem, and how my dating life looks from the eyes of an outsider. It looks bad… very bad and I don’t blame you or anyone for thinking that way about me. But I’m thankful for your kindness. It took me a while to realize that I used to do those things because none of them was the one I was looking for. But you… you are so different from them. I understand this might be sudden but I cannot be the only one who feels this way.”

“You are not.” You interrupted him, hoping to ease his inner dilemma. You smiled at him as he visibly let out a long sigh.

He moved closer to you, and you leaned into him, pulling him down for a sweet and short kiss.

You could almost hear the cameras click. Instead, all you could focus on was his scent, his smile and his taste.

You sat back down in your chair, enjoying the sun, smiling.

The next day you broke the news to your teams. Toto was the first to congratulate you.

He knew, of course, he would. He knew you and Charles would end up together. One way or another.

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles lecrelc #leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

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AITA for not inviting my younger sister to my wedding?

I (27M) recently got married to my wife T(28F)

Our wedding was a childfree wedding, mostly because everyone was gonna get drunk and we didnt want to have to worry about children getting hurt or messing with things. So we sent out the invites saying that everyone had to be at least eighteen in order to come to the wedding. No exceptions (We dont live in America btw so the legal drinking age in our country is 18 not 21. Just to clarify that)

Well I have a younger sister, A(14F)

And because children werent allowed at the wedding, she wasn't invited. But she knew about the wedding because she was there when me and T told my parents. So she had gotten all excited about going to the wedding even before we decided to have childfree.

According to my mom A even saved up all her allowance and bought herself a new dress to wear to the wedding.

Well once we decided to go childfree, someone had to break the news to A that she wouldn't be going. And my mother decided that since I was the one getting married I had to be the one to break the news.

So I told A that she wasn't coming to the wedding because she was too young.

She didn't take it well. She started crying, saying that she wasn't a child and wouldn't cause any problems, that this was unfair. She even asked if she could stay for the ceremony then leave before the reception. But that wouldnt work because she cant drive, someone would have to drive her home (and considering its a two hour drive from our house to the venue...yeah not exactly feasible, especially if whoever was gonna drive her home wanted to drive back for the reception) She tried to plead with our parents but they took my side and said she was too young.

Besides if we let A come then all our friends and relatives who have kids (which is most of them) would want to make an exception for THEIR kids too. Majority of those children are ten and under (mostly under) so then our wedding would be overrun with kids, defeating the entire point of going childfree. I told this to A and she got mad, saying that if she ever got married I wasn't invited either, told me to fuck off and stormed off to her room.

Well the wedding came and went, we had a blast and A was dropped off at a friend's house. I did feel bad about hurting her feelings so I saved her a big slice of wedding cake. Well the next morning when we went to drop off the cake, A had been crying the entire night since her eyes were all red and puffy. Her friend's mother tore me, T, and my parents a new one. Yelling at all four of us in the driveway, calling us selfish for not inviting my own sister to my wedding. I tried to explain that it was childfree but the mom cut me off saying that surely the sister of the groom was a reasonable exception and that A wasn't a toddler needing to be supervised, she was a teenager. She also added that she could've picked A up after the ceremony but instead we decided to be assholes and exclude her from everything.

A hasnt talked to me since, just silently glaring at me whenever I come visit.

I dont think me and T did anything wrong, since it was our wedding and we could invite whoever but I still feel awful for hurting A's feelings so idk.

Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lunastrophe · 3 months ago

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BG3 Drow Lore 🕷️ Minthara's Mother

Minthara's mother identity is quite a mystery. We only know that she is a noble from House Baenre and she was still alive when Minthara left Menzoberranzan:

I expect so [that she is still alive]. If the world were to end, I think my mother would survive to rule over the ruins.

🕷️Baenre, But Which One? - we know that Matron Mother Yvonnel, who ruled House Baenre and the entire Menzoberranzan for around two thousand years, had fifteen daughters. The majority of them seemed to be alive around 1297 DR: ...Matron Baenre defied the norm of the dark elves. She had given birth twenty times, twice as often as any others in Menzoberranzan, and fifteen of those she bore were female, every one a high priestess! (from Homeland).

But according to lore, around 1480 DR only two daughters of Yvonnel were still alive: Quenthel and Sos'Umptu (from Menzoberranzan: City of Intrigue). They are still alive around the events of Baldur's Gate 3.

Could one of them be Minthara's mother?

🕷️Quenthel: ❌ doubtful. Quenthel Baenre, after ascending to the position of Matron Mother of House Baenre, had five daughters, but all of them are still very young – her firstborn, named Myrineyl, finished her education in Arach-Tinilith around 1480 DR. She is being called a „young one” by her aunt, and she is not even hundred years old. Minthara is obviously older than her, so logically, she cannot be her sister and Quenthel's daughter.

🕷️Sos'Umptu: ❌ doubtful. Sos'Umptu was the First Priestess of House Baenre and the keeper of Baenre chapel. She had an established position in the family and was ...among the least ambitious drow females her mother had ever known (from Siege of Darkness). Some time later, during the civil war in Menzoberranzan around 1490 DR, she opposed her sister Quenthel and ultimately replaced her, becoming the newest Matron Mother of House Baenre.

Sos'Umptu was never mentioned to have any children. It seems that daughters of House Baenre – at least the eldest and the most important ones – were not allowed to have their own children while the matron mother of their house was still alive (from Siege of Darkness). Triel was free to have children only after she ascended to the position of matron mother, and the same went for Quenthel.

Also, according to Minthara, her mother was visiting surface and surface cities in the past during her „grand tours”. Meanwhile, Sos'Umptu is described as „not very worldly-wise” and she is definitely not a travelling type, rarely even leaving Baenre chapel.

So, not Quenthel and not Sos'Umptu 🤔

Still, Minthara's mother could be in some way related to Yvonnel's famous daughters.

🕷️Minthara's Mother - Granddaughter of Yvonnel? – I initially thought that Minthara's mother could be one of those ten unnamed daughters of Yvonnel mentioned in Homeland. Unfortunately, according to information in Menzoberranzan: City of Intrigue, it seems that they are no longer around, since the only living daughters of Yvonnel are Quenthel and Sos'Umptu.

Still, there is still a possibility that at least some of those younger and „less important” daughters had their own children and grandchildren. So even though Minthara's mother is not Yvonnel's daughter, she can still be Yvonnel's granddaughter.

Yvonnel also had several sons who had their own children. Among Lolth-sworn drow, a child typically belongs to mother and to her family – but sometimes, if the child's father is a noble from much more powerful house, his son or daughter can become a member of his house instead.

So, another option - maybe Minthara's mother was one of such children, related to one of Yvonnel's sons (probably Dantrag):

🕷️Minthara's Mother - Cousin Of Yvonnel's Children? – in novels, it is mentioned that Triel and her sisters had some cousins and first cousins once removed. They were apparently descendants of Yvonnel Baenre's siblings and at least some of them held important positions in the House.

For example, Zal'therra Baenre was ...foremost of Triel's cousins. She was the commander and the highest-ranking member of House Baenre in the Army of the Black Spider (1372 DR). She was described as young and not exactly cunning, but still, she was a warrior priestess of considerable battle skills.

Cousins like Zal'therra were perceived as competent enough to lead House Baenre if, for some reason, Yvonnel's daughters perish: ...Triel wouldn’t be around forever, and she needed to give thought to leaving House Baenre with at least a few competent priestesses in the event that the day came when she would have to have her sisters murdered. (from Condemnation)

Also, they had some measure of power and could play important roles in family conflicts and intrigues: ...If [Sos'Umptu] joined forces with Quenthel, or maybe a cabal of the more capable cousins such as Zal’therra, she would be a threat to Triel. (from Condemnation)

It is quite possible, then, that Minthara's mother was a member of this 'cabal of the more capable cousins'.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

#drow #drow lore #lolth sworn drow #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #minthara #minthara baenre #for BG3 fanfic writers

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torukmaktoskxawng · 10 months ago

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Hi anla! are you comfortable writing a Tsireya x fem! Omatikaya! reader where reader is very tough and intimidating and is quiet and prefers to spend time alone. Tsireya finds her by the water one time instead of being with her family and tries to talk to her but gets blown off— she then makes it her mission to get close to reader and after a while reader lets her?? idk maybe some cute slow burn romance? thank you and ur writing is sooo good!

Pairing: Tsireya/Fem!Reader (Sully daughter, lol)

Word Count: 1,572

Warnings: Cuteness overload? Small mention of violence? Hinted courting? Not sure what else, but this was written on my phone, so it's not in my best element and is also shorter than I wanted.

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter

A/n: I definitely played into the unspoken fact that Na'vi, or at least Forest Na'vi, are basically cats 😅

~~~~~~~~~

When you first brushed off Tsireya's friendly conversation, the chief's daughter was beside herself all night thinking she had done something wrong, wondering why anyone wouldn't want a new friend in a strange, foreign place far away from home. Tsireya knew that if she was in your place, she'd be desperate for new friends to keep herself sane so she wouldn't feel as homesick.

Needless to say it was a little hurtful and confusing when you completely ignored her attempts at befriending you. You, the sibling born between Kiri and Lo'ak, didn't appear interested in anyone or anything other than your space. Your brothers and sisters, who are way more outgoing and eager to befriend Tsireya and the other reef children, don't even appear bothered by your mannerisms. Tsireya decided to ask Lo'ak why that was.

According to your younger brother, you have always been this way. You kept to yourself and only made time for family when you absolutely had to.

"What about friends?" Tsireya had asked, bewildered.

Lo'ak simply shrugged, "She considers us her friends, too."

That baffled the reef girl to no end. How can someone not want to find friends outside of her own family? Wouldn't you get tired of them and need to talk to someone outside of your circle of relatives? Tsireya can understand having boundaries but to this extreme? It both confused and intrigued her.

No longer hurt by your behavior, her curiosity had gotten the better of Tsireya. Even though you were a little intimidating, it didn't sway her from trying to hang out with you more.

She first started by just simply staying by your side. She didn't talk or anything, just sat or walked by your side, regardless of the side glances you gave her. Despite wanting to fill any awkward silence between the two of you, she kept quiet and instead just tried to get you used to her presence, wanting you to at least trust and feel comfortable around her. Whenever you side-eyed Tsireya, she simply smiled and ignored how put-off and tough you looked.

Lo'ak had never seen a cat before in his life, but from what his father had told him, you were very much like one. Jake affectionately compared you to a stray cat all the time, even more so than Spider. To gain your trust, someone would need to have unlimited patience and kindness. No one outside of your family had ever tried and if they did, gave up too easily. Spider was the only exception. Growing up together, you silently considered him your family just as much as your siblings.

However, while watching Tsireya try to approach you with her silent tactics, Lo'ak couldn't help but agree with his father about the stray cat's comment.

Once it's safe to assume you didn't care whether or not Tsireya was hanging out with you, she moved on to small, teeny tiny talks. She does this by complimenting you.

"Your hair is really beautiful today."

"I love that bracelet Tuk made for you. It compliments your eyes."

"You're amazing at fishing!"

It was... like walking on thin ice. You didn't say anything back, but your expression made you look wary of the compliments. If your hair wasn't hiding them, Tsireya would've seen the dark blush that enveloped them. Once you are no longer entirely put off by this step of conversing with you, the chief's daughter starts letting you in on all of her village gossip.

"Don't let Rotxo know I told you this, but he's very infatuated with Kiri."

"My mother had to treat one of our deep divers who thought it was a good idea to wrestle with his own tsurak."

"Our best singer thinks she can fool everyone by always wearing a shawl, but we all know she's trying to hide her growing belly."

You never say anything in response to the gossip, but Tsireya didn't miss the way your ears twitched, letting her know that you were listening to her, regardless of how you felt about village rumors. It made her smile, knowing that you were paying attention. She hadn't realized, but Tsireya had found herself enjoying talking to you, even though you never responded. What was once an attempt to get you to like her ended up being something that she ended up liking about you. Tsireya is one who is never at a loss for words and has even been told at times -mostly by her brother- that she talks too much. So to have someone not say a word but she knows is listening to every word she says was heartwarming, to say the least.

The curiosity and drive to be your friend slowly turned into an infatuation when she got you to smile for the first time.

She had boldly decided to gift you something but knew that it wouldn't be genuine if she didn't make something that you liked. Instead of jewelry, she made a small shell ornament meant to go on the front of your ikran's harness. When she handed you the gift, she felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs at the sight of your smile.

It was small, but it was definitely there. You had what Lo'ak and Spider would use to call a "resting bitch face" and so any other emotion you expressed was easy to place. Tsireya found herself wanting to weave your smile into her memory, to swim to the Cove of the Ancestors as fast as possible to connect to the Spirit Tree and have your smile forever remembered by Eywa.

"I don't know why you like her so much," Ao'nung comments as he and his sister do their morning chores. He visibly shivers with his usual, permanent scowl ebbed on his face, an expression he most definitely inherited from Ronal, "She looks like she could rip my throat out with her teeth."

Poor, sweet, innocent Tsireya found herself shocked as something warm and pleasant rolled in her stomach, the image of you being so ferocious sending a weak chill down her spine. Unbeknownst to Ao'nung, his sister was in a dilemma, beside herself as to why it pleased her at the mere thought of you being able to end someone just by using your teeth. Trying to hide the growing blush rising to her face, Tsireya kept her head down and purposely focused on the fishing net she was mending.

"She's strong and fierce," the reef girl simply states, "And she's a good listener."

Ao'nung squints at her, baffled and put off by Tsireya's observation of you, but doesn't comment further.

But this strange friendship between you and his sister only baffled him further when the next time all of the reef children and Sullys were working together to build a strong canoe. You had approached the group, much to everyone's surprise, and held your hand out to the chief's daughter.

"Reya..."

All eyes quickly glance between you and Tsireya, not sure who everyone should be looking at. Rotxo and Ao'nung's jaws drop, never knowing what your voice sounded like before now. Ao'nung is even more affronted by the nickname you gave his sister. No one calls her that.

Tsireya's face visibly brightens as if you had just shown her the stars for the first time. Standing up to join you, she holds her hand out as you place something down in the center of her palm.

Your smile had returned as she drew close, faint and perhaps a bit shy, but it was present and it made her heart skip a beat as you whispered, "A piece of the Omatikaya."

You drew your hand away and then quickly turned around, walking back down the beach from the way you came. Tsireya nearly whined when she could no longer feel the heat that naturally radiated from your skin before remembering the item now nestled in her hand. Looking down, she uncurls her fingers and gasps quietly.

It was a beautiful choker made out of red and orange beads, tied tightly together, meant to climb up her neck and make her look taller, something similar to what she'd seen Neteyam and Neytiri wear. She had never worn anything with such bright, warm colors, reminding her of the fire in your yellow, piercing eyes. Without a second thought, she removed her own necklace and replaced it with yours, her fingers shaking with excitement as she clasped it around her neck. Beaming proudly, she turned back to your siblings and the other reef children to show off your gift, and while some of them were speechless, Tuk wasn't the least bit surprised by the exchange she had witnessed and squealed.

"It looks so pretty on you! I was watching her make that for hours and couldn't wait to see how it turned out!"

The young Na'vi girl's statement had everyone finally blinking from their shock, Rotxo even going as far as complimenting Tsireya's new necklace while your siblings and even Ao'nung all looked at one another with wary suspicion. Ao'nung waited until Tsireya was caught up speaking adamantly to Tuk and Rotxo before he snapped quietly at the other Sully siblings.

"What in Eywa's name was that??"

Lo'ak's jaw tightens but he doesn't say a word, briefly remembering another fun fact about cats that his father once told him. Something about what it means when a cat likes or trusts another animal or person, they tend to start gifting things like dead rodents.

He visibly shivers, hoping his sister won't go as far as to start bringing dead things to Tsireya.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

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#tsireya #tsireya x reader #tsireya imagine #tsireya x you #atwow imagine #atwow #atwow fic #tsireya atwow #tsireya avatar #avatar tsireya #atwow tsireya #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #avatar #james cameron avatar #avatar imagine #james cameron

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horangare · 1 year ago

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my babysitter’s a vampire

pairing : vampire!hoshi x human!reader

content : smut (mdni), strangers to ???

in which : your parents hired a babysitter after deeming you as the “irresponsible” older sibling. when someone who isn’t junhui shows up in his place, you’re instantly captivated by this handsome stranger and his shiny white teeth.

warnings : grinding, fingering, finger sucking, big dick soonyoung, blood, mentions of a knife and minimal bodily harm (you cut your finger), unprotected sex (but mentions of birth control, be safe either way), cocky soonyoung (ugh i want him so bad), you threaten him with a fork, bff!chaeryeong, dirty talk, pet names, bulge kink (i think that’s everything but pls let me know if i forgot anything)

wc : 4.8K words

note : look y’all i am the youngest of four sisters so idk if my portrayal of a younger brother is a good one but…this is for u hoshi nation horanghae.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Your mom sighed deeply, searching her jewelry box for her matching earring. “I’m sorry honey, but you do. Your sister clearly isn’t responsible enough.” You rolled your eyes, but remained quiet. “And I know Junhui’s mom. She says he’s a very nice boy who’s good with children.”

Ever since you and Chaeryeong shut yourselves in your room to rewatch Girl From Nowhere for the millionth time again and speculate if there would really be a third season, (Chaeryeong insisted there would be, while you thought the opposite) the fact that you were supposed to be babysitting your younger brother had completely slipped your mind. When your parents returned from their date, they pulled into the driveway only to find Leo out there screaming his head off.

After that, you were quickly deemed “irresponsible” by your parents and no longer allowed to be Leo’s babysitter. What did they want you to do? You couldn’t spend all summer break looking after the little brat. Anyway, it’s not like that was the part that bothered you, but the fact that you couldn’t talk or beg her out of it either.

“Mom, come on! I’m eight and a half now! I can pretty much babysit myself!” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway so your mother couldn’t leave the room without giving him, in all his childhood glory, the explanation he felt he so richly deserved.

“It’s too late. Junhui is already on his way and we’ve already paid him.” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good.”

Your brother glanced to the side, like he was actually considering not being on his best behavior, before nodding and smiling at your mom. “I promise.” What a little shit.

“That’s my boy. And the same goes for you, [Y/n]. Chaeryeong over but she cannot stay the night. Am I clear?”

You smiled, not even bothering to make it seem real or genuine. “Crystal clear, mom. Have fun with dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. We should be back at around eleven.” Your mom mumbled, making her way down the stairs and to the front door where your dad was waiting. You followed behind her, mostly so you could slam the door in a pitiful act of retaliation and lock it shut until your friend arrived, but also because you wanted to see what this Junhui kid looked like up close.

You’d seen him maybe once or twice before around campus or at the cute little coffee shop you frequented, but you had never gotten a close hard look at his face before. Some of your friends knew him, according to them he was kind of weird, but made up for it with his sense of humor. Maybe he could keep you some decent company before Chaeryeong showed up.

The boy on the other side of the door was not Junhui. At least, you didn’t think so. This boy was a little shorter, a little blonder, and a lot finer than you’ve ever seen Junhui look.

“Oh! Hello, are you…Junhui?” Your mom asked, raking her eyes over the boy standing before her.

“Hi. No, sorry, Jun couldn’t make it. I’m Soonyoung, I’m a friend of his. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure. Leo? Your babysitter’s here!”

“He’s so hot. And he’s totally your type, don’t you think?”

“Chaeryeong, please!” You slapped your hand over her mouth, earning a dirty look from the girl standing beside you. She was right, this Soonyoung guy was super good looking, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. He was still a stranger after all. A hot one, but a stranger nonetheless, and it was only normal for you to have your reservations. “He’s not even the guy who’s supposed to be here. Junhui was supposed to be Leo’s babysitter. He says he’s his friend.”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, not understanding what your problem was. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. Look, even Leo likes him.”

You and Chaeryeong watched from the kitchen island as Soonyoung helped Leo with his homework in the living room, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your brother smile while doing homework. Neither of you could hear what they were saying, for some reason you doubted it was about fractions—fractions were not funny.

The longer you observed them—mostly Soonyoung—the more you realized how right your friend was. He was fine. Really fine. It’s like there was some kind of aura around him, something almost otherworldly.

That’s when you started to stare. Like the hard, not even blinking type of stare. Soonyoung turned his head over his shoulder, the two of you making eye contact in what felt like the most awkward way ever. He smiled at you though, which made your cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, before giving his attention back to your brother. Chaeryeong, having watched the entire exchange, grinned while looking you up and down.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled.

Feeling like a stubborn child about to throw a tantrum, you narrowed your eyes and pouted. “Was not.”

Your friend was no doubt satisfied with herself, cooing at you and cupping your face with her hands to squish your cheeks together. “Denial is not a good look for you. Come on,” she released your face to pat you on the shoulder. “let’s go watch a movie before I leave.”

Looking back at the living room, you saw your brother sitting on the couch alone with no signs of Soonyoung. Some babysitter, you thought, leaving the kid he’s supposed to be looking after alone. How could your parents leave someone so irresponsible in charge of your brother?

Oh, wait…

“Just wait for me in my room. I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” She nodded, heading upstairs to your room while you made your way to the bathroom in the hall and swinging open the door.

“What the fuck?” Soonyoung shouted, tearing his eyes away from the mirror above the bathroom sink to look at you. Gasping, you took a step back from him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” You started to apologize, glancing behind him into the mirror and you froze. The spot where his reflection should be was empty. You took another step back.

“You didn’t know…what?”

If you weren’t so scared right now, you would’ve definitely been offended by the way he was speaking to you like you owed him an explanation for wanting to use the bathroom in your house. You looked at him, then the mirror once more, trying to make it as subtle as possible.

“Uh…nothing! So sorry again.” You said, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the tension and backing away from him far enough until you were close enough to retreat up the stairs and to your room. Chearyeong, seated comfortably in your bed, snapped her head away from her phone to see you clutching your chest and panting.

“Woah, what happened?” She asked as she sat upright. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” With one of your hands, you gestured that you needed more time to catch your breath before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the bed.

“He doesn’t have a reflection.”

Chaeryeong raised one of her eyebrows. “The babysitter? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! He was in front of the bathroom mirror but the mirror was, like, empty!”

You could tell she wasn’t really sure whether you were telling the truth or not, making you groan and cover your face with your hands. “I’m really fucking serious! There’s something wrong with him, Chaeryeong!”

A heavy sigh sounded from Chaeryeong’s place on your bed. “I don’t know…what kind of person doesn’t have a reflection?”

“All humans have reflections,” you shrugged, your head tilted as your mind considered each and every possibility. “maybe he isn’t human.”

Chaeryeong snorted and rolled her eyes. “What is he then? A vampire?” The comment was definitely meant to be a joke given the way she’d said it, but the way your eyes widened and jaw drop was all too serious. “Oh my god, is he really a vampire?”

You looked around your room frantically, feeling the smallest bit of relief when you saw your laptop resting on your beside table. Chaeryeong made room for you in the bed, watching as your fingers flew over the keys.

How to identify a vampire.

“Asks to be invited into your home…no reflection…powerful presence or aura,” you skimmed over the first three bullet points shown before you and felt your mouth go dry. Soonyoung, so far, was definitely fitting the description of a vampire.

“Look,” Chaeryeong pointed to the next bullet point and read it aloud. “When a person is injured, make sure to find out if their focus is more on the injured person or the injury itself.” You looked at her, unsure of what his point was. Nobody in the house had been injured?

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’ve gotta injure you.” She scoffed, a little confused as to how you weren’t following her crazy thought process.

You leaned away from her. “What? Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re the one that wants to prove it so bad, aren’t you?” It was hard to argue with that one, you were the one who brought it up in the first place. You grumbled and slammed your laptop shut.

“Fine! But if we do all this and he ends up being just some guy I’m expecting a very long apology from you.”

Chaeryeong just smiled brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Soonyoung had brought Leo up to bed much earlier than he thought he would; your brother mumbled something about using all his brainpower on the fractions, and Soonyoung had laughed and tucked him into the covers. When he returned downstairs, he noticed the kitchen lights were on. Once he reached the bottom, he could see Chaeryeong holding your quivering body in the kitchen, a knife and an apple discarded on the kitchen island.

“What happened?” He asked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice.

The truth of what happened is quite simple; you and Chaeryeong snuck down here while Soonyoung was putting Leo to bed, she gave you a small (but still painful) cut on your index finger, and now you were standing here trying to sell it.

“[Y/n] was gonna split this apple with me, but I totally forgot how awful she is with knives. I think she cut her finger open, does it look bad?” Chaeryeong grabbed your wrist, holding your now opened hand closer to Soonyoung’s face. The blood had pooled where the cut was and started to streak down your finger. He sucked in a breath, struggling to look away from it.

“Y-Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Soonyoung gulped, watching the red liquid falling down past your knuckles. He licked his lips, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you pulled your finger away. Then and only then did Soonyoung look at you in the eyes again.

“Everything okay? You seemed kind of distracted.” You tilted your head to the side. “You seemed really focused on the blood, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh please, I was not.” You and Chaeryeong exchanged a look, and you held up your bleeding finger in front of his face again. Soonyoung’s focus shifted once more, his eyes zeroing in on the streak of blood that was beginning to go dry. You turned away to rinse it under the sink and shook off the water once it was all washed away.

“Yeah, okay.” Chaeryeong said, reaching into her pocket and handing you a band-aid. “So you’re a vampire, right?”

To say the least, Soonyoung seemed shocked and offended that you had caught him so easily, as if he hadn’t been the most obvious vampire ever. “What? A vampire? Please, how could you ever think that?” It was almost pathetic how he was actually trying to convince you otherwise when the evidence was already there, maybe he actually thought he could wiggle his way out of this.

“Look, we already know. Just drop it.” You sighed, and Soonyoung did the same.

“Aw, mannnnnnn.” He whined. “What gave it away?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Chaeryeong asked him, her voice riddled with sarcasm. Soonyoung looked down and mumbled the word “no,” and Chaeryeong nodded pointedly. “Thought so.”

So you were right. Soonyoung was a vampire. He was also your little brother’s babysitter. It’s funny, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen a show like this before a really long time ago, one whose name wasn’t coming to mind right now. Whatever, back to the main point. Soonyoung was a vampire.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, holding up a fork to his neck. “Are you gonna kill us?”

“Woah, um, first of all,” He closed his hands around yours and lowered it, and you noticed how cold he felt. Probably another vampire thing. You snatched your hand away, and he seemed confused, but shook his head and continued on. “That silver thing? It’s just a myth. Second of all, why would I wanna kill you? It’s not like your parents wouldn’t notice. Not to mention we don’t go feeding on people randomly, consent is a thing, you know.” You could’ve laughed at that. A creature that survived off of draining the blood of others caring about their right to say no seemed ironic.

“And anyway, did you seriously expect to kill me with a fork?”

Chaeryeong burst into laughter, though she tried to play it off by coughing when she saw you glaring at her. “Sorry…” She picked up the fork and the knife and dumped them back into the silverware drawer to prevent you from making any more threats against Soonyoung. Your parents also didn’t trust you with metal utensils for…reasons similar to this.

You rolled your eyes. “So what happened to Junhui? Why couldn’t he come?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno, he said that he was feeling sick, so he asked me to come in his place. Does that really matter?”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want some freaky undead creature looking after my little brother!” You retorted, raising your voice just a little. He might’ve been against eating people, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

“[Y/n], that’s kinda…” Soonyoung held up one of his hands, signaling for Chaeryeong to stop talking.

“How do you know Jun isn’t a vampire?” He tilted his head as he asked that, then pursed his lips while he waited for your answer.

So he was a vampire and a smart-ass. Great.

“I don’t know!” You turned your head away from him. “This is just…freaky. I didn’t know vampires could be so—”

“Witty? Handsome? Charming? I know, I get that all the time.”

“Stupid.”

Chaeryeong laughed again.

Soonyoung raised one of his eyebrows. “Stupid guys must be your type then. Well, according to Chaeryeong, if I heard correctly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “You heard all that?” Soonyoung nodded, smiling when he noticed the way you reacted.

“Every single word. You know, maybe you should do more research.” He flicked you on the forehead and grinned when you let out a yelp of pain.

“Anyway.” Chaeryeong mumbled. “It’s getting late, my sister is on her way to get me. Good luck with…” She gestured between Soonyoung and you. “whatever you’ve got going on.” She reached forward and grabbed the discarded apple from its place on the island and padded upstairs to get her stuff from your room.

A gleeful smile crept its way onto his lips as he turned his head to look at you. “She’s leaving. You know what that means, it’ll just be me and you once she’s gone.”

“If you try anything, I will go get the fork. I don’t care if it kills you or not.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through the kitchen. It was weird, he didn’t sound or look like an evil blood-sucking monster. He just looked and sounded…normal. And a little shiny.

“Later [Y/n]! Bye Soonyoung. Have fun!” Chaeryeong waved to you from the stairs. You replied with a goodbye of your own, and Soonyoung hummed, listening for the sound of the door closing shut before turning you around and pushing you against the island.

You gasped. “What are you doing?” The way you squirmed in his hold was amusing to Soonyoung, acting as if you could get away. You were so cute, thinking you could get away from him. This would be more enjoyable than he thought.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of me. I can make you feel so good, baby.” You scoffed, the sound turning into a low moan when he started grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“I’m not afraid of you,” The shakiness in your voice poked a hole in your believability, but Soonyoung didn’t think too much of it. He lowered his head to the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You shivered with a horrible realization; you liked it.

“Mmm, then maybe you like me. Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

A whine echoed through the kitchen. Your whine. “Wait, my parents…”

You gasped a second time when Soonyoung turned you so you were facing him, and you watched him roll his eyes with that annoying smile plastered on his face. “Oh, them? They’re coming home late. Your mom locked the keys in the car, so they’ll be a while.” Just when you were about to respond, he turned you around again, the feeling of his breath on your neck making you shiver. “So just focus on me, got it?”

His hands traveled over your body, stopping to squeeze your chest or your ass. You should’ve been embarrassed with how you reacted so eagerly to his touch, but he was actually making you feel good. Well, whatever. It’s not like you’d actually let him know—

“I can get rid of these, right?” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pajama pants, pulling them down along with your underwear the second you gave him a nod of confirmation. The fabric drops down your legs and pools at your feet and you kicked it aside. Soonyoung reached between your legs, collecting the wetness between them and holding it up to your face, fingers glistening with your arousal. “Look how wet you are for the freaky undead creature. You like this, don’t you?”

“N-no. I don’t like this or you.” Even though you said all that and shook your head, Soonyoung could tell you didn’t mean it. He reached between your legs again, this time to ease one of his fingers inside of you.

“The way you’re moaning for me says otherwise.” As he said that, he pushed another one of his fingers past your walls and eliciting another one of those not so subtle sounds from you that he loved. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was pleased with himself getting you all worked up like this.

He was arrogant. He was full of himself. He was a smug bastard. He was all of that and more, and it was making you weak in the fucking knees.

Three of his fingers were inside of you now, stretching you so good that it made your head spin, and you bucked your hips against his hands like you’ve never been touched a day in your life.

God, you’d never live this down.

You bit your lip so that he didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing how you were falling apart over his fingers, or how good it felt when he curled them inside of you just right, or how he had your legs shaking every time he reached your sweet spot. As if he needed the vocal confirmation (he heard the noises you were making regardless), the way you were trembling was pretty much a dead giveaway.

“You know, you still owe me a little blood.”

“What?” You turned your head as much as you could to look at him over your shoulder. Soonyoung’s eyes were darker than they were before, his hunger evident through his gaze.

How could you owe him blood? What did that even mean?

“You owe me some blood,” he repeated. “Waving your finger around in my face and refusing me a taste. You have no idea how worked up you got me all over that flimsy little cut.”

Judging by how his dick was still poking you, you seriously doubted that.

You turned your head back around, not wanting him to see your face as you weighed your options. You didn’t really know what would happen if he did bite you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?

Only one way to find out.

“Just…do it fast.” You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck. Soonyoung smiles wide—not like you could see it, but you were imagining that he was in this situation. He withdraws his fingers from their place inside you, much to your dismay, but he’s now holding them to your lips. He groans when you open your mouth and allows him to slip his fingers in and mumbling something that you can’t pick up over the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much, but let me know if I need to stop.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the spot on your neck that he was sinking his fangs into no more than a second later, giving you no time to process his little act of intimacy. It stung for a moment, but what followed the initial sting of pain was the most intense and overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Soonyoung moans with absolutely no shame when your blood fills his mouth. He’s never tasted anyone as good as you, and he realizes that he could quickly become addicted to you. Your sounds, your blood, your pussy, each and every part of you inside and out was intoxicating.

You wrap your hands around his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth, wanting to have him hear your next words clearly. “Fuck me…please.”

He nearly chokes when you ask him that, forcing himself to pull away just so he can ask you to repeat yourself. He licks the remnants of your blood from his lips and your wound so that it’ll seal. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Clearly your expectations for him were still far too high, because instead of taking you to bed or at least the couch, he had you laid on the kitchen floor. Yeah, you’re definitely never living this down.

And yet despite all this, you can’t help but drool when you finally got to see Soonyoung’s cock beyond the confines of his sweatpants. He looks down at you, smirking, and despite your heightened arousal you still feel an urge to kick his cocky little ass.

“Can you get down here before I change my mind?”

He waves at you dismissively as if he hadn’t been the one all over you. “Need a condom. Got one on you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m clean and on the pill. Come on, just fuck me already, oh my—”

Soonyoung happily lowered himself onto the floor, his lips on yours as he guided himself inside of you inch by inch. He tasted like your blood, obviously, but there was an also a faint taste of pink starburst too. Something he probably got from Leo, no doubt. The combination was weird, but somehow you figured it suited him.

“God. So f-fucking big, Soonie!”

Gone is the last bit of your composure with Soonyoung’s cock buried inside of you, blurting out any thought that came to your head against his lips.

“Shhh, not so loud, baby,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want to have your bother wake up and find out what a slut you are, would you?” Yeah right, you think. Leo could sleep through anything, including you getting dicked down by his babysitter. But getting called a slut by him in that sickly sweet way had you clenching around him. “Fuck, warn me if you’re gonna do that.”

“Like I knew it would happen.” You hissed, making him laugh. He found this back and forth thing going on between the two of you fun, especially when he could get you so worked up and vice versa.

He waited until your body had relaxed to start moving, having to keep one of his hands over your mouth each time he thrusted into you because despite what he’d said earlier you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the kitchen was so echoey or that Soonyoung was giving it to you so fucking good.

“You’re such a cute little thing,” He laughed breathily into your neck. “I loved how much of a fight you put up for me baby. Now look at you. You’re mine.”

“All—ah—yours,” your words were muffled by his hands, but he understood you perfectly. The embarrassment you felt earlier was gone, completely replaced with thoughts of him and his cock splitting you open right here on the floor.

You felt him nod, “Mhm, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. God, wish I could just fuck this sweet little pussy forever.”

A laugh managed slipped past your lips and he finally moved his hand away from your mouth. “You can say that?”

“God? Duh.” He sneered, becoming more and more aware of just how clueless you really were about vampire culture. “Can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.”

You were just about to say something else when Soonyoung changed the angle of his hips, slamming into you even deeper than before. Your back arched, chest pressed to his, and a second later you let out a frustrated groan.

“You still fucking suck.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

He opts for a faster pace after that, spurred on by the way you close your eyes and babble his name over and over again as if it’s the only word you can say. He’s so desperate to cum, to get you to cum, to have him be the only thing on your mind when you make a mess of yourself all over him. He whispers for you to keep your eyes closed, taking your wrist in his hand and bringing it to your stomach.

“Can you feel me? Right…” He moves your hand around a little before he finds the correct place, “here?” Blindly, you press down on the spot, and your eyes shoot open. He’s so, so deep, you can’t keep it together anymore.

“F-Fuck, feels so good,” your breath hitches at the end of the sentence. “Need more…”

“Yeah? Pretty baby needs more?” Soonyoung raises one of your legs over his shoulders and you swear you start seeing stars with the way he’s fucking you. “You’re so t-tight, sweetheart. Gonna cum?”

“Mmm, yeah, so c-close. Make me cum, Soonie, need it so bad.”

Soonyoung lifts his head so that he can kiss you, only breaking it to quickly mumble the words “me too” before his lips are back on yours and his finger is rubbing your clit until your body goes limp beneath his and he feels you squeezing him so tight it triggers his own orgasm, slowing the speed of his thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

Your head feels fuzzy, and you barely register the feeling of him pulling out or lifting himself off of you while you lay there and catch your breath. “Soonyoung?”

There’s no immediate response, and it makes you confused as to why. You try to lift yourself off the floor but the soreness hasn’t quite subsided, so you’ve no choice but to stay put. “Yeah, just leave me on the floor. Not like I need your help or anything.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to be all sticky.” He huffs, wiping the insides of your thighs with a damp washcloth, then proceeding to wipe down the floor and the top of the island.

“I’m still on the floor, Soonyoung.”

Smiling, he helps you to stand and even manages to get you back into your underwear and pajama pants. He won’t stop looking at you like he has something to say. Maybe, for once, it’s something important.

“What?”

“You wanna go again? I’ve still got a ton of energy.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Oh come on, I know you liked it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fork.”

#kwon soonyoung #kwon hoshi #kwon soonyoung smut #soonyoung smut #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #svt soonyoung #seventeen soonyoung

741 notes · View notes

anotherandomcollection · 3 months ago

Text

[prologue] Dear Diary...

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────── ≻─ ⋆✩ pairings: arlecchino x gn!reader ≻─ ⋆✩ warnings: some angst?, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, slowburn - not beta read ≻─ ⋆✩ spoilers?: 4.6 (Arlecchino's story quest) ≻─ ⋆✩ synopsis: this is a series I'm writing - its in the form of dairy entries written from the reader's POV through the years.

this is just the prologue of how it all begins and provides insight on the background (on the reader) I made up :) There's no date for the diary entries but they progress forward.

≻─ ⋆✩ author's note: this was an idea that came to me in a dream (shower thoughts) /j I'm not too sure if this is a format that would be enjoyed, but I hope it is <3

≻─ ⋆✩ word count: 1.4K

[prologue]

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Dear Diary,

I'm leaving. I'm leaving this godforsaken house - I'm probably going to sneak off during my next mission. It's a solo mission, though I think it's just a ploy from "Mother" to get rid of me. My left leg is still injured and the Doctor says I may never fully recover, I have a barely noticeable limp, but anything short of perfection is frowned upon in the House of the Hearth (of course it is; the "Marelle" games should be enough of an indicator).

I don't know why either, I've been good - though perhaps she doesn't approve of the friendship Clervie and I have forged (not that she has any motherly rights to decide that). Or perhaps with Peruere - she is probably the next "King", with the highest potential or whatnot.

I'm scared to leave as well, just the idea of leaving is heavily frowned upon and is punishable with death. Even if I don't die on the mission, if I am caught, I will die. I'm not sure if even Archon's can tell me what happened to the other's who tried to leave. "Mother" keeps a strict tab on everyone and who knows what in the house. Any secrets being spilled… I pray for them. I pray for mercy, because I know the Doctor has none.

I'm scared to leave, scared about the future too. I don't know how to leave when this house is almost all that I remember. "Mother" clothed me, fed me and has given me a roof over my head. No matter how hard I had to work for it, I was given a shelter. It scares me that I don't hate this place as much as you would expect me to… It scares me to leave everything I know and all the people I cherish for this.

The battle for "King" starts soon, I probably won't be around for it. I'll either be long gone or dead, if the mission from mother goes according to my plan, I'll be on my way to Sumeru. If it doesn't… then I suppose mother's plan to get rid of me would have succeeded (archon's know I am not in mission ready condition).

I know its selfish to leave Clervie and Peruere but I cannot stay. I will die. Perhaps I could have stayed in another time or another universe where this "orphanage" didn't exist.

I'm leaving them a letter, but I have planned to make it look like I have died, or imply it, at least then I won't be the villain in their eyes for abandoning them here to suffer at the hands of "Mother". Painfully Hopefully, we will never cross paths and I will never have to explain myself. I'm not sure if they would understand.

I don't know how to live with myself anymore, not with the things the house has made us do. We are children and… I miss my family. I see glimpses of them in my dreams and memories - it was so warm. It had actually felt like a home. I think I had an older sister and a younger brother but I cannot clearly remember. I wonder what happened to them (if they even exist). I hope that I could have had that in another universe, but alas, I cannot in this one.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

[there is a letter left to Clervie and Peruere, hidden in a spot only the three of you know about]

Hi Clervie and Peruere,

It's me, I'm sure you know my writing by now and I'm sorry that I cannot see both of you one last time. I'm leaving on my mission and I will likely not return. "Mother" plans for me to die - I know it so because I am not currently mission ready and she's been sending me on so many. I'm barely pulling through as it is and I don't think I will make it back from this one.

I will miss both of you and I'm sorry it will end this way.

I will miss watching the sunrise with you, Clervie, and I hope that you see the aurora you so wish to see one day. I'm… sorry that it has come to this and I hope you continue going to watch the sun bleed orange-red in the sky and turn the horizon into a mix of orange and purple and pink (like your hair!).

Peruere… I will miss our shared love for insects. I left you some sketches I made of Bambi. I will miss our walks in the garden trying to insect-watch and then having to hide when our caretakers come looking for us. I really did enjoy them.

[in the same envelope, there are some old sketches of the spider - several sheets of the insect in several positions and all carefully drawn and the pages carefully preserved]

I'm sorry. [next to it is a scribbled out line, too scribbled to even make out what the words mean]

[the letter is only read by one of the people its addressed to before it is thrown into the fireplace and turns to ash]

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

[the writing in this entry is shaky, tear drops are splattered on the page]

Dear Diary,

I heard Clervie died through the grapevine. I don't know what happened and I hope Peruere is doing alright. I only know she died in the battle for "King".

I don't know how to unpack this yet.

I'm scared

I thought I could maybe see them in the future. I don't know how to live knowing one of us will never get to grow up. It hurts so much. It hurts so much more than I thought this would...

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Dear Diary,

I got into the Sumeru Akademiya - under the Darshan Amurta and it specialises in biology. Particularly, I'm going to study insects! Which is probably more accurately called Entomology.

There's a new harbinger, Arlecchino. I don't know who that is, but I hear they are the new head of the House. "Mother" is dead. I hear the house has been taken over by a new "Father". I pray for the children each night. I hope the "Father" is nicer but the archon's know that is a stretch too far past reality. "Mother"… The Doctor… All the harbingers do is hurt and hurt.

I know first hand what both "Mother" and the Doctor does. Sometimes I wonder how they live with themselves. Perhaps both of them are crazy.

Perhaps it should satisfy me, that the person who tormented me and all the children is gone but there is none. It feels hollow and as terrible as it sounds, I… miss the house. It wasn't home, no, but there was some semblance of family, forged through sheer fear and understanding. I suppose it stops no one in the battle for King, it stops no one for the battle of recognition and the sheer desperation to survive.

But we all know why we do it.

I suppose we all understand. Understand enough to die without hatred. I wonder if Clervie felt the same. I hope her death was swift and as painless as possible. Archon's have mercy on her soul.

I've changed since the last time, I've changed my hairstyle and hopefully no one will recognise me. My injuries have been progressing well as well and my limp is almost gone. There's still the stress that weighs on me that someone will recognise me. I fear that someone from the Fatui recognises me - especially when they have their claws in every nation.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

[years later...]

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Dear Diary,

I'm going back to Fontaine. There has been an exchange in between both the Akademiya and the Fontaine Research Institute so I'll be going to study the Subdetection Units. They are these small units created by the Institute that monitors all sorts of environment data. It is extremely interesting and I wonder exactly what the units can record. Not only that but they are in the shape of insects!

I think these units are interesting and with some tweaking, it could be possible to track even more data from them. Particularly, underwater. These could also possibly monitor the area by the Fortress Meropide for escapees- The possibilities feel rather endless and I am probably being too ambitious, especially with little knowledge in the engineering behind these specific units.

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

Dear Diary,

I think I saw her again today.

[the writing is shaky on the page and this entry is startlingly short.]

──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────

#arlecchino x reader #genshin x reader #arc.writes #genshin impact #fontaine #arlecchino #genshin

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love-lilly02 · 8 months ago

Text

The Challenge— Chapter 9

When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral.

It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad.

When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”

Your mom answered that one for you.

Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white.

He almost thought he would have to do it.

“This is bull shit!”

Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”

“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time.

“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter.

“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”

“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”

“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”

And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played.

“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.

“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”

“Actor?”

“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”

“A soldier.”

“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“

“DANCER!”

“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask.

“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.

“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”

“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.”

You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right.

Soap just rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond.

“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming.

“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass.

You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.”

Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers.

Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were.

Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age.

So they didn’t do it alone.

It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them.

And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other.

That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year.

This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for.

Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time.

It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it.

In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.

They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person.

It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister.

He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard.

Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye.

“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”

He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought.

Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…

Oh.

He had to tell Price.

AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)

#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

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flowerandblood · 10 months ago

Text

The Knight & The Judge

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination and humiliation kink, description of physical and mental disabilities, prejudices against disabled people, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, trauma, mention of an accident with fatalities ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

On that day it seemed to him that the whole world had turned against him. His coffee machine had broken down, there was more traffic than usual on the roads, he was sure he would be late for work, and his brother had woken up in a mood worse than always and cried all the way to the centre.

"I don't want to go there. I-I'm scared of some of those kids." He muttered under his breath, swallowing loudly, whooping with tears. He looked at him in the mirror, feeling a squeeze in his throat every morning when he left him there, but saw no other alternative.

He still hadn't recovered mentally after what had happened five years ago and, according to his psychiatrist, he wasn't ready to attend a normal school until he gained more confidence.

He did not want to force him to listen to unpleasant comments, however, he felt uncomfortable himself.

The centre was huge, classes were taught in different groups of matched children, however, there were times when Daeron encountered kids with a spectrum of disabilities other than physical and was simply afraid of them.

He tried to explain it to him, but how was a child supposed to understand these complicated, sometimes even uncontrollable behaviours and screams?

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, turning on the right indicator with his hand, driving into the car park of the building where he would leave him for the time he spent at work, during which he studied and had various extra classes with children with problems similar to his.

However, was he to surround himself all his life only with children who had mobility problems, who had no arms or legs, who suffered from paresis or lack of feeling in their limbs?

Every time he thought about it he wanted to cry.

He turned off the engine, staring dully ahead, hearing his mother's screams again in the background of his mind as his father fainted behind the wheel and drove off the road into the other lane – he felt once again that hard crash with the big truck coming from the opposite direction that crushed them.

They were only alive because they were in the back seats at the time, Daeron, however, was not as lucky as he was.

Compared to what happened to his younger brother, the glass that smashed into the left side of his face was nothing.

"Mrs Thomson said you can't spend all day at home doing one-to-one tuition. You have to see other children." He calmly repeated the formula he said whenever such a situation arose, opening his door, heading for the boot of his big black SUV – the car dealership had told him it was the safest and biggest model they had.

He took out the small wheelchair that had been put together and unfolded it, driving it closer, to the back seat where his brother sat, opening it – he looked away, unable to watch his brother's weeping face.

"I'm already late for work. Please. I promise we'll play FIFA' 23 together when we get back. Hm?" He muttered, and Daeron nodded, pale, breathing loudly, using his hands to move slowly towards the wheelchair onto which he shifted the weight of his body, hissing loudly as he lifted his legs onto the special supports.

The bones of his little legs had been simply crushed then – he continued to grow, the rehabilitation was hard and caused him great pain.

He would have preferred it to be him who suffered like this and not an innocent child, but God, who he wasn't sure he still believed in despite the deep faith his mother had always instilled in him, decided otherwise.

He closed the car and moved with him to the main entrance, pushing his wheelchair forward. When they got inside they were greeted by a lady they knew very well, several of his friends waved to Daeron, one of them was paralysed from the waist down, the other was missing one arm.

He swallowed loudly, thinking that his brother had to watch someone else's misfortune every day, himself for sure feeling like a cripple, like someone defective, someone who was a burden, even though he loved him the most in the world.

The cruelty of the situation left him with a clenched throat, so he would usually only throw him a few words to say goodbye, stroke his head and leave, only by the car tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, his healthy eye burning from the moisture that gathered under his eyelids.

As he always did in moments of breakdown, he started the engine, selected the number of his sister phone on the display under his dashboard and, turning on loudspeaker mode, started backing his car as he tried to drive out of the car park and drove ahead towards the national prosecutor's office.

"Hello? Aemond, did something happen?"

He heard Helaena's soft, sleepy voice. He knew she was still doing overtime as a doctor, overworking herself as much as he was and thought that he had woken her up after the night shift.

He felt remorse for not being able to handle it himself, although she always reassured him that she would always help him as best she could.

She got Daeron the best possible physiotherapist so that he was even able to take a few steps in the last month while holding on to his supports, however it still caused him great pain, the doctors said his bones would continue to hurt as long as he grew.

Perpetual undeserved suffering.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He says he is afraid of some of the children, those with intellectual disabilities. I know it's cruel, but fuck, I'd be scared of some of them too. Do they have to see each other in the same building, pass each other in the corridor? Shouldn't they be separated somehow?"

"God, Aemond, they're not animals. After all, they're children too." She said with sadness and resentment – he clenched his eye, sighing impatiently, trying to focus on the road again, tense.

"I know. I know. I really feel for them, but it's bad for his psyche. He recently asked me if he was normal, if he too would start shouting and babbling like them. That sometimes they are aggressive and the carers have to drag them away from him and his friends."

"It's horrible. Maybe he really should go there less often?" She asked sighing quietly, he heard her rise up on the bed with a quiet creak of the mattress.

"And what, he's going to sit at home with some boring old teacher? How will I know that no harm comes to him in my absence?" He asked resignedly, hearing silence on the other side for some time.

"Maybe find someone who won't be very distant in age. Someone who won't just teach him, but play with him and spend time with him. Someone old enough to be responsible for him and at the same time young enough not to feel so distant. Someone joyful." She replied, and he rolled his eyes as he drove into the underground car park of his office building.

"Joyful? I am supposed to pay someone to be joyful?" He sneered, shaking his head, his sister sighed again.

"He needs it, Aemond. We're all tired, and he's a child."

He hung up after a few minutes of further discussion, telling her he had to go, grabbed the case folders he'd just brought in and headed for the underground lift. He pressed the button showing the floor he wanted to move to when a woman's hand stopped the sliding doors, which opened a moment later.

Alys smiled broadly at him as she stepped inside with a confident stride – her high black heels emphasised how slender and long her legs were, her fitted, waist high pencil trousers and black blazer with a beautiful white shirt underneath highlighted both her confidence and her attractiveness.

He remembered the last few times the thrusts of his hips had pushed her into her desk, bent over and helpless, with firm, wide buttocks on which he tightened his fingers as he panted heavily, watching what he was doing to her, rooting into her again and again, thinking with mockery and amusement how easy it was to make a mere whore out of such a proud woman.

"Good morning, Mr Prosecutor." She said softly, contentment and calmness on her face, several of their intense close-ups had clearly left an intense mark in her, not just physical.

She liked the violent and determined ones, he knew that – she hid her age well and apparently decided that this was the last moment in her life when she could reach for what she wanted.

"Good morning, Miss Rivers." He replied calmly, uninterested in her ambiguous look, apparently suggesting that she wouldn't mind if what happened between them was repeated a few more times.

He was all about the sex. He was frustrated in this aspect – his artificial eye, although perfectly colour-matched to the other and the still clearly visible scar from where the glass pierced in, were a source of his complexes and shame.

He knew that no matter how perfect a professional he was, it was his appearance that made the first impression.

In the courtroom he still struggled to be taken seriously so much so that his cold, calculating, ruthless nature began to frighten some – his judgement and questioning was harsh and lacking in compassion.

He knew exactly what he wanted and strove to get it.

He preferred them to fear him rather than pity him.

His superiors quickly appreciated how skilful a lawyer he was and his ability to bring cases to an end and push whoever he needed to, hence he quickly moved to the National Prosecutor's Office, where more responsibilities and more money awaited him, which he could spend on Daeron's rehabilitation.

As he sat over the files he thought hard about what his sister had told him and decided that he would install CCTV in the house and then hire someone on a trial basis to see if it made sense.

He put up an anonymous job ad not wanting anyone to recognise him, described briefly his broad expectations and his rate per hour.

It turned out that dozens of people responded to his ad, just as he suspected attracted by the sum he had quoted, but he didn't know how he was supposed to sort them to choose the ones that seemed best to him. He began to read their answers, figuring that already from them he could deduce what types of personalities they were.

I am interested. My phone number is below.

Reject, he thought, clicking the red button informing the message sender that his offer was not accepted, and began to scroll further.

I am a carer with 10 years of experience. I have already cared for 14-year-old Mike with cerebral palsy, Adam with….

Reject, he clicked again.

He had no intention of making his home a second centre for the disabled.

He felt frustration and rage when he found that most of the messages were similar and just as empty in their tone, nothing convinced him about these people.

He knew Daeron wouldn't want to stay with them, and neither would he.

He stopped at one of the messages that looked completely different and blinked.

Good morning! I saw your ad and thought I would speak up. I'm a student, I'm studying costume design at the Faculty of Fine Arts. I'm looking for a casual job and I really enjoy working with children, I teach dressmaking as part of the teaching section of my university classes. I think that helping your brother with his studies at primary school level would be no problem for me at all, and I would also be happy to come up with different extra-curricular activities with him. Even if you decide not to hire me, I would like to sew your brother a costume of his favourite super hero, without any payment of course. You would just have to give me his measurements. I don't think anything makes kids his age happier!!! My warmest regards and I am sending my email below.

He looked at her message not too sure how he felt, at the same time being impressed, on the other hand feeling the seed of uncertainty and extreme caution characteristic of him when it came to his approach to newly met people.

What if this was a psychological tactic to make him believe her to be innocent and unselfish? To make him subconsciously choose her because she was the only one offering him something for free? If it was just her free promotion?

He chose two people reluctantly, but kept coming back to her message, trying to imagine her, seeing some crazy painting student looking like a hippie.

Maybe this was just what he needed? He thought with regret and sighed heavily, opening a new window in his inbox, writing her a short, brief email to appear at their house in a few days' time.

He was going to interrogate her.

The young man before her immediately made him uneasy – he had the impression that he smelled weed from him even though he had taken a shower, so he must have been smoking like crazy, and he had no intention of letting anyone who might encourage him to use any stimulants look after his brother.

The other girl was very frightened – his questions clearly startled her and made her uncomfortable, it frustrated him that she was barely able to make a sound. He thought she had something to hide, that people who have a clear conscience don't behave this way.

He thought with resignation that all he had left was a mad artist.

He sighed heavily as he heard the bell ring suggesting that someone was standing outside the gate. He walked over to the intercom and opened it, seeing in the small monitor a petite girl with dark, slightly wavy hair tied up in a ponytail.

He thought in disbelief that she was dressed for a job interview in a white turtleneck, dungarees and trainers, a fabric floral back on her back.

What the fuck, he thought, opening her door with a cold, indifferent expression on his face.

"Good afternoon." She said softly, a wide smile on her face. Before she walked in she wiped her shoes on the doormat, which pleased him. When she came inside she wanted to take off her trainers – he looked at her surprised, thinking she must be crazy.

"No, you don't have to. You can stay in your shoes." He said lowly, pointing towards the armchair, indicating to her with his hand the seat on the couch next to him.

She sat down in the seat he showed her, looking boldly straight into his eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

She was clearly a tad nervous after all, he thought, musing for a moment that she had incredibly long, dark eyelashes.

"Do you have experience in working with children?" He asked immediately; she blinked and corrected herself in her seat, as if prepared for the question.

"Only in terms of working with them in sewing workshops." She answered simply, without any further explanation, which pleased him.

She was letting him draw his own conclusions, rather than imposing them on him so as to present herself in the most favourable light.

"My brother has mobility problems. How do you imagine helping him, for example, if he needs to go to the bathroom?"

"I think he's old enough that he can tell me himself what he'll need help with and what he won't, and what he'll feel comfortable for me to help him with and when he'll want me to leave." She said without thinking, shrugging her shoulders as if it was obvious. He squinted, intrigued that she was allowing herself to say unthoughtful things in front of him, as if she wasn't afraid of the consequences they might bring.

"And your studies? How will you have so much time to come here?"

"From what I understand, I would be expected to turn up on Tuesdays and Thursdays from eight in the morning until sixteen. I have practice classes then, the costumes I'm sewing I can bring with me and finish them while he's eating or watching something, maybe he'll even like it and want to practice with me?"

"What will you do if I don't hire you?" He asked dryly and she looked at him surprised, a light smile on her face indicating that his words didn't worry her.

"Then I will continue to work in the café. But my words about the superhero costume stand. Even if I can't work for you, sir, I would like to meet him and give him something. Children can be so brave." She said softly with sincere, bright joy and some kind of pride, as if Daeron was her brother and not his, something in her innocence, something in her attitude endeared him.

He could smell a lie a mile away, she wouldn't be able to pretend so well even if she were an actress.

These reactions were natural, she was saying exactly what she was thinking about.

"I will contact you once I have made my decision." He said indifferently, getting up from his seat and pointing with his hand towards the exit, suggesting that their conversation was over.

She stood up and smiled, undaunted by his behaviour or the length of their conversation. Both of them flinched when Daeron appeared in the living room, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with a light flick of his hand.

"Good afternoon. Who is this lady?" His younger brother asked him, obvious curiosity on his face. He swallowed loudly and glanced at her – she answered nothing but waved at him vigorously, Daeron smiled shyly and waved her back, embarrassed.

"No one. I needed to talk to her." He replied, opening the door for her. She said a polite goodbye to him and his brother, waving at him once more, Daeron waved her back again, looking at him with questioning eyes as he closed it.

"I like her. She seems fun."

With no other choice, he decided he would give her a chance.

The first day she was to be left alone with Daeron he was all nerves despite the fact that his little brother hadn't seemed this excited to him in many years. He told him about his toys and the cartoons he was going to show her.

"First the lessons. Then two hours to play and free time." He replied dryly, tense, glancing at his watch, thinking with rage that she only had fifteen minutes left, that she was sure to be late or not come and leave him in the lurch when he had already cancelled his presence at the centre's classes.

They both flinched when they heard the bell ring; Daeron said, moving briskly forward in his wheelchair that he wanted to open for her and indeed, after a moment the girl he had hired appeared on the doorstep of their house, smiling and content – her cheeks flushed again, her dark hair loose, pleasantly framing her bright face, on her body only a black top and tracksuit shorts as it was a sunny, warm spring morning.

"Good morning, Daeron, nice to meet you!" She said with fondness and satisfaction in her voice, extending her hand in front of her, which his brother shook confidently. Daeron moved ahead of her, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Come, I'll show you my room. I'll explain everything to you." He said, rolling his wheelchair up to the door, which was located on the ground floor of their house so that he could move around easily. The girl nodded, pulling her trainers off her feet, saying that she will come to him in a minute.

He took the opportunity to walk up to her, towering over her, and she threw him a quick surprised look.

He thought her eyes seemed even bigger than before, he wasn't sure if they were blue or green, both colours blending into one.

"You are to take care of him. I want you to go through all the material that was prepared for today. Only two hours of free time, no more. Behave responsibly and only call if it's really urgent or if something happens to him." He said matter-of-factly, and she swallowed quietly, nodding quickly, clearly horrified by how close he stood and how cold his voice was.

Good, he thought.

He wanted her to be afraid of the consequences of her actions.

He sat in the office all day terrified, stressed and unsure, trying to focus on the file in front of him, while involuntarily still glancing at his phone, checking to see if she might have called him.

Was everything okay? What if something had happened but she was afraid to call him? Maybe he should go home and test her, see what was going on?

He thought he would go mad if he didn't, so he left work an hour early – Alys threw something at him as he walked past her, probably something about a meeting or an evening out together, but he didn't answer her, heading for the stairs and the underground car park.

He drove forward, trying to calm himself down, thinking about how oversensitive he was, that surely everything was fine.

He pulled up in front of their house hearing music in the distance, wondering if any of the neighbours were having a party outside at this hour.

However, as he pressed the key to the gate and it slowly swung open he saw in disbelief the girl he had hired riding with lightness and grace on roller skates in his driveway to the tune of the Scissor Sisters song Don't Feel Like Dancin. Daeron laughed out loud, spinning beside her in his wheelchair, both of them wearing elbow and knee pads, in addition to his little brother wearing a bike helmet on his head.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He got out of the car, furiously slamming the door, his brother wheeled up to him briskly, his companion spinning slowly around them on roller skates – she raised her eyebrows with a smile, seeing the look on his face and waved at him.

"Look how well I dance, brother!" Exclaimed Daeron, spinning the wheels of his wheelchair around his own axis again.

He, however, instead of looking at him grabbed aggressively the arm of his carer who was doing another spin – she nearly fell over because of his tug and caught him abruptly by his jacket in an attempt to catch her balance.

"Ah!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what I pay you for?" He growled and shook her hard. She stared at him with wide-open eyes, her lips slightly parted in accelerated breathing from fear, her face red from exertion, strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Let me go, sir. I will not speak to you like this." She said warningly, her brow furrowed. He pressed his lips together noticing that something had changed in her gaze, suddenly confident and angry, ready to fight if necessary.

He felt that look in his trousers, he'd never had the urge to slap a woman's ass as hard as hers before.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him in horror, only realising after a moment that the song had long since ended and there was a tense, awkward silence around them.

He let go of her arm, seeing with satisfaction that he had left a bruise on her skin in the shape of his fingers – she massaged at the spot, furrowing her brow.

"You're fired. You're irresponsible. Good thing I came back earlier." He said with mockery and fury, walking over to his brother, unbuckling the helmet he wore on his head. Daeron burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"I don't want to. I don't want to, I don't want to go back there, I want to stay with her. It's my fault, I told her I wanted to dance, please, please, please, I want her to stay, I don't want to go back there." He babbled, running his hands over his shoulders in some helpless, childish pleading gesture from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her gaze fixed on his little brother, sad and resigned – she was leaning over, untying the laces of the roller skates that had once belonged to his sister.

"Something could have happened to you. You could have fallen over and hit your head on the ground." He replied coldly, kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his knee pads.

"But I had a helmet on my head. After all, normal boys fall off bikes and stairs and they're fine! Nothing would have happened if I'd bruised myself a bit, I'm not made of glass!" He burst out suddenly with a fury he had never seen in him before, burying his little face in his hands, all red from tears and despair.

"I won't go back there, I won't go there tomorrow, if she doesn't stay, never, never again, I'd rather kill myself!" He whined out loud, falling into another attack of hysteria in recent months – he had trouble catching his breath, his lungs were wheezing all over. He took his face in his hands, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.

God, why?

"Remember what I told you?" She asked walking up to his brother in just her socks, kneeling beside him, grasping his hand. Daeron immediately fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes.

"That boy who calls you Quasimodo is just mean. You are my Phoebus, you have his beautiful hair, humour and valour. I'll sew us costumes and we'll go to the carnival ball together. His jaw will drop when he sees that you came with your Esmeralda. What do you say?" She asked softly, and he looked at her in disbelief, wondering if that was the reason his little brother didn't want to go there.

That boy who calls you Quasimodo.

He felt a twitch in his throat and swallowed loudly, his brother nodding quickly, drawing in air loudly, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she smiled broadly, sincerely, squeezing his small hand.

"Promise."

They entered their house as his brother calmed down; he told Daeron to go to his room and leave them alone, which his brother eventually did with great reluctance, crying for a while longer, not wanting to say goodbye to her.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him at the end of the corridor he slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, took out a few banknotes and threw them on the table in front of her in a careless gesture.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said coldly, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her lower lip twitch, the pain of humiliation in her gaze, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that such words had left his mouth.

He wasn't paying her to make a circus of herself dancing like some fucking Esmeralda, exposing his brother to danger and injury.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and trembled with rage as she took the money and tossed it in his direction, the banknotes flying scattered around his feet.

"You could dress up as Frollo for the carnival ball, sir. It would suit you." She said drily, turning away tensely – he moved behind her, feeling anger buzzing strongly in his veins at her words.

He grabbed her by the neck with an aggressive flick of his hand and slammed her back against the wall, her voice stuck in her throat in horror, her big, bright eyes open wide in disbelief.

He took a step closer to her, feeling her warm body quiver all over in his grasp, digging his fingertips deeper into her skin, finding with delight that she was obscenely soft.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He asked in a low whisper filled with threat – she shook her head quickly clearly feeling the situation was out of her control, obviously fearing if he was really going to do something to her.

"No, are you sure? I'm listening to you. Tell me something else interesting about me." He said softly, encouragingly, moving even closer to her, the tips of their noses almost touching.

He could finally get a good look at her and he found curiously that he still couldn't tell what colour her eyes were, now slightly reddened from tears of fear.

She shook her head quickly, not making a sound; all he could hear was their quickened, raspy breaths, her hand touched his wrist as if she wanted to make sure he didn't strangle her.

He was somehow delighted by how delicate, long and slender her fingers were, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his trousers at the thought.

"Look at you. So silly. Because you're a silly little girl, aren't you? You would benefit from someone teaching you a lesson. No? Then apologise and I'll let you go and pretend I never met you." He said calmly, her whole body quivering with terror.

"Never." She said quietly, and he felt involuntarily that his lips curved in a dangerous, satisfied grin, his fingers clenching tighter around her neck.

"You're asking for trouble, Esmeralda." He muttered lowly, her nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

"I will report what you are doing to the police." She said dryly and he smiled even wider, feeling her tremble all over as he leaned over her ear, his nose sinking into her soft, flower-scented hair – he closed his eyes and savoured the experience for a moment before whispering something she froze from.

"I am a prosecutor −"

Her hand clenched tighter on his wrist, a moan of despair escaping her lips, as if what he had said had really shocked her, as if she was only now realising what she had gotten herself into.

"− and I've never lost a case yet." He whispered in her ear, sliding his face lower, to her jaw and then to her neck, pressing his full lips to her skin, leaving wet, hot marks on it. He heard her draw in a loud breath.

"− w-what are you doing, sir? − no −" She whimpered, he felt her lift her arms up in a defensive gesture, trying to pull away from him, but he pressed her against the wall with his body, letting go of her neck, his erection throbbing hard in his trousers, pressing again and again against her stomach.

She felt it, a terrified cry escaped her lips as his lips pressed tightly against her neck – he began to suck painfully hard on her skin, wanting to leave her a crimson reminder of himself.

"− how did you put it? − who do I remind you of? −" He asked tauntingly, running his rough tongue over her red skin, feeling the veins pulsing rapidly under her soft, warm skin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry − please, please let me go −" She mumbled out in despair on the verge of crying, her voice trembling all over in terror, her breathing raspy and uneven, her small hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck that he wore under his jacket.

He gasped at her words, sliding his mouth lower, repeating the same process, rubbing against her with his hips – his cock was all swollen and hard, pulsing with pleasure, his hands roaming down her back, sliding at last to her buttocks where they clenched.

"− look at you − so you can be polite after all, hm? −" He asked softly, lowering the material of her tracksuit shorts a little, his large hand grasping her plump, firm buttocks and slapping it hard – she clamped her lips together, trying to hold back the whimper that squeezed its way down her throat.

"− that's what I thought − turn around and let's get this over with −" He murmured, soothingly massaging the place that was now pulsing from his slap, grinning as she did so wordlessly, tears of helplessness and fear on her cheeks.

"− please −" She muttered and he sighed softly, sliding the material of her shorts and underwear down, revealing what was underneath – she shuddered and wept quietly as the tips of his fingers ran over her swollen folds, focusing their pressure on her sweet spot hidden between them, digging into her fleshy skin in circular, calm motions.

"− shhh − this way it will be easier for both of us −" He explained in a soft tone of voice, as if he was telling her something obvious, as if it would benefit her in the future and teach her something.

He heard her shy moan full of fear, then another, a tad louder as his fingers sank more firmly into her skin. He licked his lips at the sight of the wetness that began to leak slowly from inside her and slapped his hand with a short, rough movement into the space between her thighs.

"− quiet −" He ordered, and she pressed her lips together, stifling whatever wanted to come out of them. Daeron was far away, locked in his room, but he still preferred him not to hear anything, and he didn't have the time or desire to take her upstairs to his bedroom.

This situation, her bent figure and her lovely buttocks pushed up towards him, suited him completely.

"− good girl − see? − it's not that hard −" He murmured pleased with how obedient she was despite the fear and terror from which her whole body was twitching. The confident movements of his fingers were accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her cheek pressed against the cold wall where her hands were helplessly trying to find support in this position, her eyes closed as if she just wanted to wait it out.

She opened them when she heard the sound of his zipper being opened – her lips pressed together with difficulty as he guided the fat, swollen head of his throbbing cock against her opening, leaning with his free hand against the wall just above her head, trying to force it between her tight folds with the motion of his hips.

"− wider − that's it, there you go −" He exhaled as she opened her thighs a little more and he spread her wide on his cock, feeling her muscles gave him a wonderful squeeze – he sighed loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was.

"− fuck −" He hissed out, clamping his hands on her buttocks, spreading them like a ripe fruit; she squirmed in discomfort as he forced her to take him deeper inside her, filling her so much that he felt like he was going to rip her skin apart.

"− barely fits −" He scoffed, moving his hips back and forth with a splat of her moisture dripping down her thighs – he heard her begin to pant along with him as he deliberately rubbed against her lower wall just above her very entrance, teasing the spot inside her from which her whole body was quivering.

"− here? − do you want me to fuck you here, little one? −" He gasped as he stretched her skin enough to fit all of him inside her, rooting into her again and again with increasingly brutal thrusts of his hips, digging his fingertips into her buttocks, looking at the spot where their bodies joined, at her muscles clenching against him greedily in panic, sucking him inside.

"− please −" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips parted in disbelief at how pleasurable and terrifying the experience was. He sank his hand into her soft, dark hair and tilted her head back, burying his nose in the hot skin of her cheek, speeding up, stretching her weeping folds with a loud, lewd slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

"− use full sentences −" He commanded, his other hand from her hip slid down between her thighs – she squirmed helplessly as his fingers sank again into her fleshy skin, sticky from her moisture, teasing her clit with circular, slow motions.

"− here − fuck me here, sir −" She mumbled with difficulty in a voice trembling with exertion, her cheeks all red, the beautiful curls of her dark hair clinging to her sweaty face – he felt with satisfaction that her hips began to respond to his eager thrusts.

"− good girl − that's my good girl −" He breathed out with a quiet groan of pleasure, seeing and feeling her walls squeeze his fat cock at his praise – he licked his lips thinking that Alys had never responded to him the way she did, so frightened and aroused at the same time, relying only on his mercy, his goodwill.

"− you understand that this is necessary, don't you? − that you need to be taught a lesson −" He muttered, feeling that he was losing his temper, thrusting into her so fast that he was barely slipping out of her, slamming into her again and again, his cock throbbing with desire, signalling to him that his peak was coming, her wonderful scent filling his lungs.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm sorry −" She mumbled out –he wasn't sure if she was saying what he wanted to hear or if she really believed it herself for a second, but she clamped her eyelids shut and spread her mouth wide, helpless, girlish, sweet moan of relief burst from her throat as she came, sucking and squeezing his cock, soaking it in her moisture. He sighed in relief when, after a few desperate, deep slaps he spilled inside her, feeling the wave of hot pleasure shake his body.

"− fuck − oh, God, little one −" He muttered, their bodies involuntarily moving for a moment longer, wanting to prolong this surprisingly shocking experience, both of them panting embarrassingly loudly, her body trembling all over – if his arm hadn't been holding her around the waist she would have fallen for sure, her legs completely numb.

He looked down at their joined bodies, his half-hard, throbbing manhood sinking into her again and again, all sticky from his semen and her wetness.

He swallowed loudly, sliding out of her slowly, realising now what he had actually done to her – he heard her quiet hiss of discomfort and sigh of relief, her face flushed from exertion and tears.

"− are you all right? −" He asked in a trembling voice, quickly zipping up his trousers, her shaking hands slipping her underwear and shorts back onto her buttocks.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled in embarrassment, horror and disbelief, not looking at him, in some automatic gesture reaching for her trainers, putting them quickly on her feet.

"Come back on Thursday as we agreed before." He muttered, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart and the panic rising inside him, a complete void in his mind.

What had he done?

"I can assure you that you will never see me again." She whispered in a trembling, broken voice, quickly put her backpack on her back and walked out, slamming the door, leaving him with complete silence, remorse and horror.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, hiding his face in his hands, and burst into tears like a small child.

How could he treat a strange, innocent girl like this?

What if she didn't take her pills, what if she got pregnant?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

What if she really does report it to the police?

I'll destroy her, he thought with a bitter certainty that, after a moment, turned again into terror, regret and shame.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialled her number, wanting to beg her forgiveness, but she didn't answer. He sat down on the couch and drew in the air loudly, devastated, not recognising himself, realising what kind of man he was.

He laughed desperately, shaking his head, thinking with painful amusement how well she had judged him.

He didn't even have to pretend.

He was like Frollo.

_____

Author's note: Many of you may believe that Quasimodo is the best and most worthy of imitation character, not Phoebus, and this is true when it comes to the book, but I assume that if anything, Daeron at this age has only seen a Disney fairy tale, in which Phoebus is a handsome man with a noble heart. The whole idea of this scene, in which the heroine says that he will be her Phoebus and she will be his Esmeralda, is that Daeron wants to see himself not only as a person with a disability, but as someone handsome, a warrior that a woman could love one day. It's easy to understand how children's minds work and why his works this way, and his "Esmeralda" only wants to help him become the person he wants to be and encourages him not to give up on these dreams and this self-image.

_____

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