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#mile make that horror movie happen
code-saturn · 2 years
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Some of my favorite MileApo moments from today:
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MC: What other genre (besides mafia) would you like to act in?
Mile: I want to act in a horror movie, as a ghost. Apo likes ghosts.
Apo: I don't dress feminine but my mind can be feminine.
Mile: I receive a lot of love from International and Thai fans so I try to say GN everyday
Apo: Even when he's sleepy he will crawl to get his phone to say GN.
*Fans are asking how he knows that lmao*
Apo: I like teasing him (Mile) because he gets shy/blushes.
They said that they are working together every other day so we can look forward to more content
Apo has a cat called Miuku!
Apo said that fans can audition as Mile's mommy.
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munsonson · 1 year
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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4
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This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 
Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 
In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 
She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 
Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 
She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.
He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 
“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”
She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 
It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 
It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.
It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 
She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 
But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 
She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 
“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”
Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 
“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?
“And?” Dustin coaxes.
“And what?”
“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 
Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 
God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 
He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.
She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 
Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 
The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.
“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”
“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 
“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”
“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”
“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”
“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”
“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 
“Am I boring?”
Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”
“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”
“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 
“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 
“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”
“No, Steve, I was just asking.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”
“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Munson.”
She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”
“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.
She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.
When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.
She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.
“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”
She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.
“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”
She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 
“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 
“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 
“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.
“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”
“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”
She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”
“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 
“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”
“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”
“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.
Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.
Things would be just fine. 
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angelltheninth · 10 months
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Spiderverse Characters Handling Horror Movies
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, horror movies, cuddles, nightmares, spidey sense, comfort
A/N: Hate most horror movies these days tbh but there's something so primal and addicting about being scared you know? Still, if I do watch horror movies I can never watch them alone.
Peter wouldn't flinch at the first few jumpscares but as the movies goes on his arm tightens its hold on your shoulders. By the end of the movie you're fully pressed to his side, his hand rubbing along your shoulder to soothe you, but it turns out that he's the one who needs to be told that he's safe. Which is kind of nice after he needs to make sure so many other people know it.
Miles likes the older horror movies more then the newer ones because he's not a huge fan of all the blood and gore. Not scared of them per se, he can watch most scenes but sometimes he will cringe really badly and turn from the screen. He'll look at you instead, give a little shy smile and plant a kiss on your lips. Which is a bit awkward with all the screaming going on in the back ground.
Gwen doesn't like horror movies at all. Horror books? Yes, she can read those but when it comes to watching them she will spend the whole movie in your lap, not screaming but she will let out a tiny yelp and then try to brush it off and act cool after it. Won't let you know how much she wants to watch anything else because she likes how protective you get with her during the movie.
Miguel will only watch them because he loves the way you curl up into him during and after the movie. He's fully honed in on your heartbeart and how it quickens and slows down when he turns your face towards his when a scary scene is happening and gives you a gentle, comforting kiss. The one thing he didn't expect was how jumpy you'd be afterwards, but also cute when you cling onto him like a koala, even in your sleep.
Hobie loves horror movies with a passion but won't force you to watch them if you don't like them. If you do that's even better because it means you can nerd about them and your favorite tropes and franchises. Horror couple costumes are of course a must on Halloween, maybe he can be the dashing hero who saves you from the killer.
Pavitr can feel his spider sense go off almost every time when he hears a little noise after watching the movie. He puts on a brave face but he will have a nightmare or two after watching a really scary movie. That being said the really old ones aren't as bad for him, in fact he finds a lot of them funny, but its the new ones with way too many scares and blood scenes that make his stomach turn.
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urfavstargirl1 · 1 year
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teach me - e.m. x fem!reader blurb
Summary: best friend!Eddie teaches inexperienced!reader how to kiss… among other things
a/n: i know this prompt has been written to exhaustion but I wanted to try putting my own little spin on it and use it as a warm up piece since I haven’t written in weeks
Cw: 18+, minors dni, kissing, making out, handjob, Eddie and reader are best friends, cuddling in the trailer, if st4 never happened
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It was movie night at Eddie’s place. You always went over to the trailer on Friday’s. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, was usually out at work, and you and Eddie never did anything more than order a pizza and check out a movie or two from Family Video.
Tonight’s movie was Pretty in Pink. Your choice, for obvious reasons, but you had to absolutely beg Eddie to watch it. You compromised by letting him choose the second movie for the night, which of course had to be a horror film.
You started the night with your movie. And once the pizza and snacks were eaten, you and Eddie had gone to lay down on the couch. You were on top of him, with your head on his chest and legs between his. You could feel the soft hum in his chest and the warmth of his body against yours.
He would absent-mindedly play with your hair or run his fingers along your back as you watched yet another Molly Ringwald movie, slowly adding itself to your collection of favorite movies.
You would make little comments here and there, like you usually do, and halfway through the movie, even Eddie had started getting into it.
“Nah babe, she should’ve ended up with Duckie,” he passionately exclaims at the scene where Andie arrives at the school dance and leaves Duckie for Blane. “And what kind of name even is Blane? It’s like, do you want your kid to be a dickhead?”
You laugh at his comment, silently agreeing.
You were sort of in a similar predicament to Andie. Well, except for the part where a popular boy takes an interest in you. But in a way, Eddie is like your Duckie. You’ve been friends for as long as you can remember and were always thick as thieves. Eddie knew you inside and out and you knew him better than anyone else.
In fact, there’s no one you can think of who could possibly take his place. There’s no one else you’d rather have movie nights or joy rides around town with than Eddie.
For some time, you’d been harboring a crush on Eddie, but you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way. He was your best friend, and his friendship meant way too much to you. You weren’t sure if your feelings for him would be worth the risk of losing him.
And for the time being, most of your friends already treated you like a couple, so you could at least pretend.
You continue to watch as the movie nears its end. You drag your fingertips along the fabric covering Eddie’s chest and watch as Andie goes outside and sees Blane. The shot transitions to a close up of Andie and Blane facing each other. And for a moment, they just look at each other, before moving close and just kissing each other. Their lips move swiftly and mouths connect like pieces of a puzzle. It’s hot. It’s passionate. It’s eager. You’ve never seen anything like it.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips and you tense up. Eddie feels you and turns his head toward you.
“Hey, you okay?”
You move your head from its comfortable place on his chest and look up at him, your faces inches apart.
You interlace your fingers together on the middle of his chest and prop yourself up a bit. You nod.
“You sure?” He asks, eyes cast down at you.
“Yeah,” you reply nervously. You turn your head to look back at the screen and engulf the view before you. Andie and Blane have their arms tightly wrapped around each other, like they want to be as close to each other as humanly possible. And the way they kiss is just… like they hunger for the other. Like they’re in a desert and the other person’s lips are the only source of water for miles.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that.” You furrow your brows and cock your head to the side. The vision of such a passionate kiss stirs something deep inside you that you had no idea existed until now.
Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, “You mean, a french kiss?”
You look back at him and into his eyes before timidly looking away. The credits begin to roll and you move from your place atop him to sit on the other side of the couch.
“Yeah, but like, a really… I don’t know… Aggressive one. Usually in the movies it’s like a soft kiss that only lasts for a moment or two. But that? That was like…,” you breathily explain, not even sure how to articulate what you just saw or how it made you feel.
Eddie looks at you in amused confusion. He sits up and leans forward to comfortingly run his hand along your calf.
“Do people really kiss like that?”
Eddie shrugs and nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up.
Eddie chuckles, “There’s a lot of different ways to kiss, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you gasp and look away, lost in thought.
“You’ve never been kissed like that?” Eddie asks curiously.
Now, being best friends with Eddie means he knows a lot about you, even the fact that your experience with kissing and touching is, well… minimal to say the least. And if it weren’t for Eddie’s relaxed and supportive demeanor, you probably never would have told anyone else.
“Eddie, I mean, if something like that happened to me, I’m pretty sure I’d tell you.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at the thought. The vision of you kissing another boy that wasn’t him like that almost makes him sick.
“What about that kid Kenny from summer camp? Didn’t you say you guys kissed?”
You make the noise of a scoff that turns into a laugh, “Yeah, but Eddie, c’mon, that was middle school. When middle schoolers kiss, it’s just a peck on the lips, if that.”
Eddie nods and looks away for a moment. You can see the gears turning in his head, but have no idea what he might say next.
“So that’s the most you’ve ever been kissed? Just a peck?” He asks in an inquisitive tone. Like he’s not asking to make fun of her, but to get a better picture in his mind of the extent of her physical experience.
“Um, yeah I guess. When you put it like that,” you reply, shyness slowly taking over.
Sex and anything physical wasn’t exactly off limits for you and Eddie. If anything, he was probably the only person you ever felt comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with. But it was all… a bit theoretical. At least for you.
Eddie was objectively much more experienced than you. He’s even told you stories of the things he’d done. When you were younger, it was interesting to hear because you knew so little. It was like Eddie was your teacher, transmitting whatever knowledge he learned through his experience to you.
But as you got older and he continued to have these experiences while you didn’t, it began to feel intimidating to think of just how much more experienced he was than you. Especially now.
Surprisingly, you’d never really thought of doing any of those things with Eddie. For some reason, he always felt off limits in that way. There were a few times where you caught yourself thinking of what it would be like to kiss him and it always made your chest feel warm. But you could never bring yourself to think of doing anything with him past that. It just felt too invasive or intense.
And besides, it’s not like he would ever think of you that way, right?
“Well, do you want to know what it feels like?” He looks at you.
“Huh,” you ask, shaking away the thoughts you just had.
“Do you want to know what it feels like,” he repeats, briefly looking over at the tv and back to you.
You cock your head to the side. “You mean, french kissing? Like that?”
Eddie nods.
“Um, yeah, I guess so. It looks like it would feel nice, but, you know, it’s probably gonna be a while till I actually do.”
Eddie cocks a brow up.
“Because I’m not dating anyone. And there’s not exactly a whole line of suitors waiting down the block just to–”
“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there princess,” Eddie laughs as he waves his hand. He shakes his head and scoots closer to your place on the couch. “What I meant was, if you want to know what that sort of kiss feels like, you can always try it with me.”
You jerk your head back slightly and widen your eyes, “What?”
“It could be like practice.”
You gasp and look between his eyes. There’s no way Eddie just said that. Your lips are slightly ajar, ready to give some sort of sarcastic response you always give, but you come up with nothing.
“Are you… You’re serious?”
Eddie softly smiles, the kind that makes your insides turn to goo. He nods, “It’s ok, babe. I don’t mind showing you the ropes.”
You gasp and roll your eyes but then they accidentally roll to the back of your head.
“If you want to. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”
You blink rapidly, trying to wrap your mind around the offer he’s just thrown on the table, quite haphazardly you might add.
“Would you really do that Eddie,” you ask incredulously.
“Sure, why not?”
“Eddie, you're being way too cavalier about this,” You nervously chuckle.
Eddie furrows his brows in confusion.
“This-This is a big ask Eddie. I have no idea how you’re being so casual about this.”
Eddie shrugs, “You’re my best friend. I would do it for you.”
Eddie wants to kiss you as a friend? Because he cares about you as a friend? This just isn’t making sense.
“Why?”
“I know you’ve been waiting for a while. Probably for that special someone, right? I know I’m not exactly him, but I think I’m pretty damn close.”
Oh Eddie, you have no idea.
“Besides, as your best friend, I think it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re prepared for when he does come along.”
You roll your eyes at his audacious attitude. “That’s not exactly your responsibility Eddie.”
He shrugs, “Still, if you let me, I think I could be a pretty good teacher.”
“Eddie, I’ve let you teach me how to play guitar or dungeons and dragons, but this? I’m just…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I just wanted to put it out there, in case you did.”
“No!” You exclaim, surprising yourself and Eddie. “I-I’m just… I-I kind of would want to but-but I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen tonight. And I definitely wasn’t expecting to have my first real kiss with someone like this.”
Eddie moves closer and cups your cheek with his hand.
“Hey,” he whispers. You peer into his hypnotizing eyes, shallowly breathing before him. “If you let me, I promise to take such good care of you.”
You maintain your gaze as your breathing becomes even more shallow. Slow baited breaths fall from your lips. You blink rapidly and place a hand over his.
“Really,” you ask in a squeaky voice.
Eddie nods and briefly looks down at your lips. He looks back up into your eyes and whispers in a deep voice, “Can show you a couple tricks while I’m at it.”
He winks and your eyes widen. “Does that sound good?”
You’re rendered speechless, but have enough functioning brain cells to nod.
“Before we get started, I want to try something.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Okay?”
“French kissing is more than just pressing your lips to someone else’s, babe. So I think you should know how to move your lips and how to use the other parts of your mouth before we do anything.”
“What?” you gasp, trying to wrap your mind around what Eddie’s saying.
“I’m gonna show you a trick. This is how I used to practice on my own. Then you start practicing with another person, but it helps to have an idea of what you’re doing before the kiss has even started.”
“Oh,” you nod in confusion.
“So what you’re gonna do is take your index finger. Now move it horizontally and bring it close to your lips,” Eddie instructs and you do as he says.
“Part your lips a bit, just enough so that your finger fits between them. Yeah like that,” he says.
You cast your gaze down, slightly uncomfortable looking Eddie in the eyes.
“Now, relax. Make sure your lips are soft. Don’t want them to be tense.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and widen your lips a bit, gauging for how tense or relaxed they are, before softening them and keeping them wide enough for your finger to fit.
“Now, it’s gonna sound weird, but just kiss your finger. You’re gonna want to start so that your lips fit around your finger, then you slowly want to close them till they’re shut. I’ll show you.”
Eddie takes his own index finger between his lips and looks you in the eye as he imitates the gestures. Your throat grows dry at the sight.
“Now, you try.”
You look down at your finger and blink. You close your eyes and bring it closer to your lips. You brush your lips over your finger till they touch and you seal the touch with a kiss, lightly making a small smack sound.
You gasp at the noise and the sensation, fluttering your eyelids open.
“Perfect. That was great.” Eddie excitedly says. You look up at him and shyly smile.
“Now try doing it again a few more times.”
“A few more times? Eddie! When are we gonna…” You cut yourself off. Realizing how eager you sound.
Eddie smirks and laughs. “Patience, babe. I promise, this stuff really helps.”
“Okay, I guess.” You shrug and practice kissing your finger a few times.
“Does it feel okay?”
You shrug, “Yeah, feels fine.”
“Okay, now I want you to try again, but this time, try adding your tongue.”
“My tongue?”
“Yes, babe, your tongue,” he chuckles.
You blink in confusion before bringing your finger back up to your lips. You close your eyes and brush your lips over your finger, letting your tongue lightly graze the skin before sealing the kiss.
You pull away slightly and open your eyes, brows furrowed. “Did I do it right?”
“It was hard to tell, your finger was covering your tongue. But if it felt right then yeah.”
“Eddie, how am I supposed to know what feels right? I’ve never done any of this before.”
Eddie comfortingly places a hand on your outer thigh and squeezes. “Hey, I know it seems really confusing. But the thing is, your body knows a lot more than your mind does. Just pay attention to what things make you feel good.”
“Okay,” you nod.
“Remember, this is supposed to feel good. You’re supposed to feel relaxed. If anything hurts or makes you feel tense then something’s wrong. And if it is, then I want you to tell me, okay?
You nod, taking in his words.
“We’re gonna start off slow, okay sweetheart? I’ll warm you up a bit first.”
“Huh,” you blink.
“Here, lay back,” he whispers. He moves back and gestures for you to lay down on the couch.
You shuffle to lie down with your back flat against the couch seat and look up at Eddie as he moves the blanket you two were using earlier to the ground.
He sniffles and moves the long sleeves of his henley up his forearms. He brings a knee to the side of your leg closest to the back of the couch and places a hand on either side of your face.
“Normally, you don’t really have to announce every single thing you do before you do it, but I will since it’s your first time,” he says.
“Ok,” you gasp.
“So, I’m gonna start by kissing different parts of your face first. Then I’ll move to your lips.”
“Okay,” you whisper.
Eddie’s hair hangs above you like a waterfall. He slowly starts to move downward and you close your eyes. You feel Eddie’s soft lips press against your forehead. He slowly inches down to your nose, then to your cheek. He places a hand along your neck and presses little kisses along your jaw.
Without even thinking, you reach out for him. One hand finds its way to his neck and the other to his shoulder.
His lips trail to your neck where he leaves warm open mouthed kisses that make your insides feel relaxed.
“Feeling good?” Eddie asks.
“Mhm,” you hum as you flutter your eyelids open. The soft light of the lamp on the side table glows around him. His warm eyes and soft lips beckon you toward him
“I’m gonna kiss you on the lips this time,” he whispers, lips hovering a few inches above yours. “And for now, just follow my lead, okay? If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”
“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes.
Eddie moves down and gently brushes his lips on yours. Sort of like how he taught you to kiss your finger the first time. Even though your lips are closed while his are apart, you feel the warmth of his mouth a bit.
“Part your lips a little,” he mutters.
“Oh, right” you whisper and part your lips with the motion of your words.
He kisses you again, this time letting your top lip fit between both of his, his bottom lip between both of yours. You kiss him back and hum at the sensation. You start to feel him smiling against your lips.
He kisses you again this time letting his top lip fit between yours. You continue to kiss like that, alternating the feeling of your lips between each others. Little by little Eddie guides you to part your lips more and more as each kiss melts into the next. You start to feel more of the warmth in his mouth.
Your left hand moves to rest along his neck, with your thumb stroking the skin of his clean shaven jaw. Your right hand moves up to his hair, fingertips coming through his roots. He groans into the kiss before you rest your hand to cradle the back of his head.
Eddie uses the hand that isn’t currently propping himself up to touch along your neck, travel along your arm and end up on your waist. He squeezes lightly before hooking his arm around your mid-back. He leans down more and brings your body up, flush against his. Without even thinking about it first, your body responds by arching your back.
You guess Eddie was right. Your body does know more than your brain sometimes. Even your body knows how much it wants him.
You focus your attention back on Eddie’s lips, breathing through your nose so as not to break the kiss to catch your breath.
You’ve found a perfect rhythm together. The kiss is at just the right pace. Just the right amount of back and forth. Not too much pressure. It’s just perfect.
And god, you can’t believe how good it feels to touch Eddie like this. To feel him like this. It feels like your lips were made for each other. Like kissing was invented just for you and Eddie to know pleasure.
When you started, it was like you were just an ice cube, and slowly, Eddie’s been melting you into a puddle of water.
And just when you think you’ve fully melted, Eddie decides to turn up the heat a bit. Between kisses, Eddie slips his tongue in and glides it swiftly along your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss. It throws your mind off guard, but your body knows just what to do.
On the kiss after that, your tongue imitates his, mirroring his movements. Eddie hums into your mouth and your back arches slightly.
Something shifts after that. The blood in your veins pumps a little faster. Your breathing is a little deeper, bringing more oxygen into your system. Your skin hums with electricity. Your senses heighten. You want every inch of your skin to be touching every inch of Eddie’s skin like two magnets being pulled together by their opposing poles.
You feel your head moving forward and back as your kisses with Eddie get faster, more aggressive. Like your mouths are trying to explore every single possible way they can fit together.
Your heads tilt from side to side and you feel his nose brush against yours. You hook your arms around his neck, letting your fingers roam through his scalp and the warm skin of his face. You whimper needily into his mouth. Sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.
To touch Eddie was one thing. To feel him was a whole other thing. But to taste him? Oh god, there is no going back.
Kissing him like this makes you feel so alive. The feeling of his lips and tongue and mouth intertwined with yours is intoxicating beyond belief.
Eddie Munson has become your new favorite flavor.
As your kisses deepen and speed up in pace, Eddie switches his hands, moving the left one to hold himself up and the right one to touch you. He hikes your left leg up and hooks it around his waist.
You whine into his mouth and pull back slightly. You hear Eddie’s haggard breathing.
“Oh Eddie,” you moan before connecting your mouth back to his.
You two resume kissing. It’s an all-consuming kiss. Like your brain has turned off and everything else in your body has turned on. Just for Eddie.
And it appears that the same has happened for Eddie. He begins to grunt and hum in your kisses. He hungrily touches and squeezes you along your waist and hips, reaching below the fabric of his shirt you borrowed to press against your skin. Your kisses become faster and sloppier.
Interspersed between kisses, he’ll bite your bottom lip, making you gasp against his mouth. You try biting his lip back. Your kisses have become so fast that you can’t find the right moment. Until one particularly quick pause between kisses he uses to catch his breath. When he brings his lips back to yours, you fit his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly apply pressure.
Eddie groans and you smile, feeling triumphant at your successful move. You continue to kiss like that, going through waves of fast and harsh kissing to slower, more melodic kissing.
You didn’t realize it would go on this long, kissing. Or, you didn’t realize you and Eddie would be kissing for this long. The kiss in Pretty in Pink only lasted for the last few minutes of the movie. You have no idea how long kissing Eddie has been. Could be a few minutes or a few hours.
You could go on for the rest of the night if he let you. There’s no place you’d rather be than in Eddie’s arms. Till his arms get tired and he breaks the kiss.
His breathing fans your face until he moves away from your face and sits back on the other side of the couch. You look at him through hooded eyelids. He moves his shoulders and flexes his fingers.
Your body is so full of light yet feels like it weighs more than a bag of bricks as you struggle to sit up, your muscles so weak from the pleasure of kissing Eddie.
Eddie breathes harshly and looks down. He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at you. He smiles painfully and you scoot closer to him.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah… I, uh… got something I need to take care of,” Eddie grunts.
“Wait, what is it?”
Eddie looks at you, like he’s masking some sort of pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah I just um…” Eddie looks into your eyes before closing his own.
“Eddie, you’re never shy around me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You just… sort of gave me a boner, sweetheart,” he answers, gruffly calling you his favorite pet name as he palms his pants.
Your eyes widen, “Oh.”
“I am painfully hard babe. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
Eddie stands up but you grab his hand. “Wait.”
He looks at you and you tug, motioning for him to sit back down.
“Do you… I mean, could I… maybe I can help you take care of it?”
“You want to?” He asks, eyebrows slightly raised and a lazy smile forming in his lips.
You smile bashfully, “Yeah.”
“You sure? No pressure at all, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I want to,” you smile and shuffle closer to him, “If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” he grunts, shuffling to sit closer to you so that your thighs are touching.
You look down onto his lap and notice the subtle outline under the fabric of his plaid pajama pants.
He palms the outline and you see it shift beneath the fabric.
You probably should be doing something besides staring straight at his lap, but something about the male anatomy is so foreign to you, it amazes you to see it like this. To see him like this.
“Wanna help me with this, sweetheart?” He grunts.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mutter under your breath.
You hesitantly reach forward and place your hand over the outline of his dick. Your eyelids flutter and you relish the sensation of his hardened yet clothed dick in the palm of your hand. You slowly press down and push your hand forward.
Eddie hums and you look up at him. His eyes are closed, lashes fallen upon his rosy cheeks, lips slightly ajar. He’s never looked more beautiful.
You look back down, with focus, and repeat your action with a bit more confidence. You feel his chest move along the side of your shoulder.
You bring your hand down to move a third time, but Eddie beats you to the punch. He brings his fingers up to the waist band of his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips up and pushes the fabric down towards his knees, letting them fall to his ankles.
And there it is. Without warning, his unclothed cock springs out, meeting you for the first time. You gape at the site of it. Of him. You swallow nervously. You’ve never seen anything like it. But, now you understand why a banana was used at the condom demonstration in health class.
In the soft glow of the yellow lamp light, you see the stiff rigidness of his hardened cock, standing freely on its own.
Eddie reaches to grab it with his hand. He begins slowly stroking up and down.
You look at him and his eyes are closed again.
“Here,” you say as you shoo his hand away. Reaching for his cock and grabbing it in your hand, “Let me.”
You look at him again and this time his eyes are open. He looks down at his dock in your hand, then up into your eyes. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You can feel his cock twitch in your hands and you tense up, slightly squeezing it.
“Move your hand up and down,” he breathes.
You nod and loosen your grip to stroke up and down.
“You can keep a tighter grip, like before.”
Like before, when you were nervous?
You tighten your grip and hesitantly move your hand up and down his cock.
He takes the arm closest to you and snakes it around your waist. The gesture brings you closer to him and you take the opportunity to kiss him again.
You lean forward and press your lips against his. He’s slightly taken aback, but by the second kiss he’s already kissing you back at full force.
You hear him loudly breath through his nostrils and feel his chest rise and press close to yours as you continue to jerk up and down his dick.
Eddie pulls away momentarily and listfully gazes at you.
“Remember to get the head too,” he softly instructs as he looks down at your hand.
“What,” you ask in confusion as you meet his gaze.
He holds his hand atop yours and guides it upward, letting your thumb run over the head of the hard cock. It feels smoothers than the skin in the base, and even sort of wet.
“Use the precum, it’ll help your hand glide a little better.”
“Huh,” you flutter your eyelashes, slightly overwhelmed by all the different sensations currently flooding your system.
“Or if it helps, you can try spitting into your hand or licking it for better traction.”
Oh. You take his words of advice and bring your hand up to your mouth. You lick a stripe and bring it down to the base. You pump upward and back down. You let your palm travel up one side, over the throbbing head, and over the other side.
You move your hand back upright and pump again, letting your thumb rub circles over the head to smear more precum.
It doesn’t escape your notice that Eddie shudders every time you do this. Every time you do much as touch the head of his cock he's a breathless mess.
You’re so lost in concentration, wanting to make sure your doing it right and making Eddie feel good that you don’t even think to kiss him again.
But while you’re making Eddie feel good, he wants to do something for you too. The only problem is, the way you’re touching him is making him have an out of body experience. It’s so good, he barely had control over his own limbs.
The mist he can do is lazily pulls you closer to his and press sweet open mouthed kisses into your neck.
Normally, you would’ve been ticklish along your neck, but something about Eddie’s touch is different. It makes you feel warm and bright. You hum and whimper when he kisses over the most sensitive spots.
He lets his lips travel to your ear. He bites on the lobe and tugs.
He whispers into the shell, “You’re so good at this babe. Are you sure this isn’t your first time?”
You giggle like a schoolgirl and smile triumphantly.
The sound of your voice drives Eddie wild and in a moment of impulse, he wraps his other arm around your waist and tightens his grip.
His kisses along your neck grow sloppier and your movement on his cock speed up, becoming harsher with each stroke.
“Sweetheart,” he grunts. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen constrict.
“Yeah?” You ask.
He grunts again, “I’m gonna—think I’m gonna co—“
And before he can even say the word, he comes.
“Eddie, what’s happening? What do I do?”
You freeze.
Eddie moves one hand to stroke his clock, pumping till the last big of cum comes out. It spills out of his leaky cock and onto his hips.
You’re so in shock and still overcome by pleasure that you’re frozen in this moment, simply an observer of Eddie’s current state.
“Well my darling, you just made me cum,” Eddie smiles cockily at you.
You smile back, slightly confused but overall pleased.
Eddie leans forward and kisses you. You kiss him back, but before he deepens the kiss, he pulls away. He fixes himself and excuses himself to go to the bathroom and clean himself up.
You suppose you should probably clean yourself up a bit too. This was far dirtier than anything you’d done before, so you go to the sink to wash your hands and fix yourself a glass of water.
You set the glass on the side table and sit back down on the couch.
After a few minutes, Eddie comes back out and joins you.
“You okay?”
“More than okay, babe,” he grins smugly.
You hide your smile and take a sip of water.
“Want some?” You offer to him.
He plops down next to you and accepts the glass, nearly chugging it all.
“Hey,” you smack his arm. “I asked if you want some, not all of it.”
Eddie chuckles and wipes his mouth with the back of his.
“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’ll get you some more,” he says cheekily. He leans over and gives you a kiss before getting up to refill the water.
He comes back and passes you the glass. You take a sip and place it back on the side table before Eddie tackles you on the couch.
You shriek as you move down to lay on the couch while Eddie moves to lay on top of you.
“Eddie, I can’t breathe!”
“Me neither. You really know how to take a guy's breath away sweetheart.”
You smile at his cheesiness.
“No I meant, you’re right on my lungs. It’s hard to breathe.”
Eddie takes this as the opportunity to basically manhandle you, picking you up and switch positions so that he’s laying down on the couch and you’re on top of him. Sort of like how you were when you first started movie night.
“That better babe?”
You press a kiss to his lips, letting him deepen it a bit before pulling away.
“Now it is,” you say matter of factly.
“I’m not gonna lie, you’re a really good kisser baby.”
Your heart lightens at the compliment. Eddie has kissed other people before, so the fact that he thinks you’re a good kisser is saying a lot.
“Where’d you learn how to kiss like that?” He asks.
You roll your eyes at his self-indulgence.
“Well, I had this teacher…” you play along.
“Must’ve been a hell of a teacher.”
“He was a pretty good teacher, but I think I also just had a natural ability. A gift some might call it.”
“Oh I definitely would. Those pretty lips were very gifted. Those hands… even more,” he teases as he leans forward for a chaste kiss.
You move your hand forward to cup his cheek.
“Is class still in session Mr. Munson,” you ask in a flirty voice.
One of Eddie’s eyebrows cocks up suggestively.
“Because there is so much I want you to teach me.”
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jellyfiishatr · 11 months
Text
Being friends with them!!
a/n : just some friendly hang out sessions with the great spider four >_<★!!
☆☆☆
Characters : Miles Morales / Gwen Stacy / Pavitr Prabhakar / Hobie Brown
content : headcanon / fluff / platonic / pure silliness
☆☆☆
Miles Morales!! (Small Ganke mention!!)
☆ study sessions with these two ofcourse
☆ ^and by study sessions I mean Miles is doing work and Ganke's been done and has been playing videos games since you came over to their dorm
☆ Miles asks for help with English, and you ask for help with whatever you're missing
☆ if not study sesh, then definitely out and about spray painting a new wall
☆ ^I can imagine late night talks with him after he's finished a piece are very heart to heart, he loves to speak his mind to you and hopes you do aswell
☆ I can imagine you meeting his parents are a little nerve wracking since he's mentioned that they didn't like ganke or Gwen
☆ so you tried to be as respectful and kind to them as you possibly could (probably also kissing up to them idk I would too)
☆ if you also do art, you guys compare drawings and give eachother advice on what you need to work on
☆ ^definitely the type to steal your notes and draw in them during class
☆ ^will also steal said notes for a week and forger he has them till your banging on his door in the middle of the night before your assignments due and those notes are very much important to you
Gwen stacy!!
☆ it took a long time for her to actually consider you a friend, a lot of the time you just stayed following her and talking
☆ ^anything you said in those few months prior to her considering you a friend, went through one ear and out the other
☆ She's definitely a teaser, making fun of you in a friendly manner
☆ movie night, or weekly sleepovers at one another's house is a must with her
☆ ^she says she's into horror/action but is really into romcoms, she won't admit that outloud though
☆ I feel like she's really bad at cooking so teaching her how better her cooking skills has definitely happened once or twice
☆ ^she loves when you make her lunches, she usually buys you lunch for the next two days in return
☆ when she's playing the drums you usually sit right outside her window with headphones because she's likes to have her room shut off
☆ ^but she still wants to hang out so she makes you wait outside for about an hour till she's done and has you back inside for dinner
Pavitr Prabhakar!!
☆ Study sessions pt2!
☆ he's a straight A, top of the class student. He doesn't really need to do homework because he does it in class
☆ he does help you with yours though, especially if you're failing
☆ early morning walks, he's an early bird and makes you walk with him because "It's good for the mind!"
☆ if you're not an earlybird, you're grumbling the entire walk about how it's a "weekend" and how "you do this everyday pavitr" and how "you need to stop making me do this"
☆ he doesn't understand whatever you're trying to say and pushes you lightly the rest of the walk (that last part definitelywasnt written by pavitr, no definitely not)
☆ he loves to rant about his girlfriend, talking about how they sneaked out and went on a late night walk that week
☆ if you have an s/o you're definitely talking about them with pavitr, telling him all about them
☆ he's definitely a dog person, he always has a dog following him no matter what
☆ you guys are walking to school? There's a dog right behind you. Hanging out at his house? There's a dog right outside his bedroom window. LITERALLY IN SCHOOL?? A DOG HAS WALKED IN DURING THE MIDDLE OF CLASS AND SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIM WHILE THE TEACHER WAS AWAY
☆ ^everyone think he just has some sort of dog treats on him always but it's really from just recognizing his face from him always feeding them, such a sweetheart
Hobie Brown!!
☆ draws on your hand a lot
☆ ^you always have faded sharpie on you no matter what because of him
☆ you tease him for his accent constantly, saying "pip pip cheerio," or "ello luv." In the most horrible accent ever
☆ You have to go to protests or big government events with him, whether you're political or not he's dragging you along
☆ Always has little trinkets for you everytime you hang out
☆ hang outs in an abandoned building are a daily thing
☆ ^he's probably made you carry a big couch for him to put in a new hang out spot because he said he "knew a place."
☆ he did infact know a place
☆ the playlist guy, he's the one with fire songs to hype everyone up at rallies/protests
☆ knows how to design, outfits, or banners whatever. He knows how to do it right
☆ you'll always have heart to heart conversations with him, early in the morning, mid-day, or late at night
☆ if you ever bring up the topic, "you think we're friends in another universe?" He just looks at you and nods (I've mentioned this before in my hobie hcs)
☆☆☆
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spencereidluver · 4 months
Text
H is for Hold My Hand
summary:  You take a cocky, halloween loving Spencer to a haunted house for his first time. He underestimates how scary it actually is going to be, and ends up being taught a very valuable lesson.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: details of a haunted house. nothing  bad though
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Spencer Reid was a big Halloween fan. He loved dressing up and going to haunted houses and eating candy. He was a kid at heart, maybe because he never truly had a childhood. 
This year, you decided to take him to a haunted house on the outside of town. It was an old abandoned house that had been boarded up and condemned for years. A few years back, a family bought it and renovated it, turning it into a movie style horror building. It was one of the top spots in the entirety of Quantico during the month of October.
You decided to take your horror-loving boyfriend there as not only a late birthday gift, but also as a way to celebrate halloween. Because let's be honest, two mid-twenty year olds trick or treating isn’t exactly socially acceptable. After going out for a semi-nice dinner, you and Spencer drove 17 miles east to visit the haunted house.
“You know, I’ve never actually been to a haunted house,” Spencer said to you. His eyes were focused on the road as he made gentle movements of the steering wheel with his left hand. His right hand rested on the midsection of your thigh, gripping ever so slightly.
“Really?” You said. You ran your fingers over his, following the bumps of his knuckles.
“Nope. I’ve always wanted to go but never had anyone to go with.”
“Well, now you do.” He smiled, turning his head and giving you a quick peck on the lips. It took Spencer a few weeks to get used to kissing you. For a while, he would ask every time. Last week, the two of you went to the theater on a date. As this was a silent audience, he didn’t want to interrupt. About half way through the show, you felt the buzz of your phone. “Can I kiss you?” a text from Spencer read. You couldn’t help but giggle out loud, which got you a few shushes. You didn’t mind too much, leaning over and giving him a big kiss. 
Kissing Spencer was something straight out of a romance novel. He had this certain way about him, he was always so passionate. The way his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours was something unpredictable. You always imagined him being a good kisser, with practice of course, but he’d clearly done research.
Spencer pulled into the parking lot of the destination. The owners of the house tore down the shed in the back to pave an area. It’s almost as if they know they’d be a city-wide success. 
It was still slightly light outside, the sun having yet to set. You wanted to wait until dark to go inside. You wanted Spencer’s first haunted house experience to be memorable. Of course, anything with him was memorable, however, you wanted to make this extra special for him. After all, Halloween was sort of his thing, and you were sort of his girl-thing. 
You grab Spencer’s hand and turn to look at him. “Hey,” you say, ensuring to keep your voice calm and steady, “I’m not saying you will, but if you do happen to get too scared, we can leave.”
“Y/n, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he says. “I work for the damn FBI.”
“I know Spence, but this is different.” “Yeah. It’s fake.”
He really didn’t know what he was getting into.
“Yeah, it’s fake, but it almost makes it more scary. The people here can touch you, and it’s loud, and basically it’s all the stuff you hate grouped into one thing that you somehow love.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you if I’m scared. But I’ll be fine, y/n.”
He was completely clueless. For one, you were going to prove him wrong. You just knew it. The two of you exit the car, meeting in the front and interlocking hands. Spencer rubs his thumb on the back of your palm and swings your arm back and forward with your steps. 
As you approached the steps to the house, Spencer’s hand began sweating. Yeah, he was nervous, but he’d never ever admit it. He liked to seem strong in front of you, though he’d be the first one to cry if he stepped on a bug. There was something so innocent about him. He just, he was different. 
_____
The line to get in was long, but it moved fast. The entryway to the house was filled with those fake spiderwebs. Those always made Spencer sneeze. The majority of your time in there was spent with Spencer’s arm over his mouth and you trying to convince the people ahead of you he wasn’t sick. 
As you approached the entrance to the basement- where the haunted house started- Spencer began to get giddy. He was so excited, like a kid in a candy store. Except he was a Spencer in a scary house that he was allergic to.
You enter the doorway to the steps that lead to the basement. Spencer trails behind you, walking a little slowly and paying careful attention to each spooky detail on the wall. He held a loose grip on your hand and let you lead him down the stairs. 
As you enter the actual attraction his grip tightens significantly. There was a coffin slightly ajar that had fake blood dripping out from the bottom. A plastic severed hand lay at the gape of the door. Spencer inched closer to you and hid his face in your hair. You silently laughed to yourself and continued walking forward.
As you continued through the basement, there was lots of fake blood and red stained sheets covering walls and pieces of furniture. They did a good job of creepifying this place. There was a fog machine plugged in somewhere, and from out of the fog popped a man draped head to toe in blood stained clothing. He jumped out in front of you and Spencer, screaming into your faces. He then ran back into the fog, knocking over a stack of ceramic plates causing a loud crash. Spencer jumped. Literally, jumped. He pressed his body into yours, attempting to hide behind you. You turn around to look at him.
“You sure you can handle this, Spence?” You ask him. “We can leave if you want to.”
“No, I’m fine. Can you just hold my hand?” He answers, looking into your eyes, almost as if he was too scared to grab your hand himself. You smile at him, taking his hand and dragging him to the next room and through the rest of the basement.
next chapter: I is for "I Knew It!"
a/n: hey guyyys sorry it's been a bit since the last chapter, i've been working a lot and had finals. i really hope i'm able to get back on the grind, but no promises. i hope you all are having a good holiday season! also, i would just like to say that chapter M is a christmas themed story, however it is non secular and celebrated for gifts with the team, not the birth of the christian god. i want to try to make all my stories inclusive to whomever and be able to read across all races and religions. have a wonderful night :)
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@ada--44 @moongirl27 @monfleurr @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @ariianelle @iiheartbowie
@spencerreidismybitch @traderjoesmints @ivyflowers13 @hades-disappointment-child @aceofspades190 @taygrls @hookergutss
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466 notes · View notes
jazzsonly · 7 months
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౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ
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ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ɴ ɢᴏ
pairing(s): tara carpenter x gn!reader
warning(s): none. y/c/e=your color eyes.
summary: ❝ Oh, why'd you have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you, ah
Why must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well ❞
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tara carpenter couldn’t stand you.
she hated your perfect smirk smile, that slightly showcased your teeth which slimly caught your tongue between them. she hated your sea of y/c/e, and how they twinkled whenever you looked at her. she hated how you always managed to smell so sweet, she swore your scent drug her for miles. and so and so,
but most importantly she hated how you kind you were. every movie night, you brought her some kind of gift—wether that be a single rose or just the entirety of her favorite snacks. it drove her crazy, made her melt, it made her hot and cold all at the same time.
god, and it didn’t help that you guys got along so well. the way you agreed on almost every horror movie fact there was. or the way you managed to teach her things she didn’t even know revolving her own favorite horror movies.
why? why did you have to do and be all these things knowing she couldn’t have you, knowing amber had dibs on you. wether you were aware of it or not, tara just wished you’d stop making her heart bleed your name when she had a code to follow.
girl code.
“y/n’s here!”
chad words cause a race, both amber and tara perk up at your name, managing to stand at the same time. they waited for you to enter like some type of knight in shining armor and you had to pick which princess you wanted.
little did they know, you already knew which princess you wanted.
“wassup man,” you pull chad into a quick ‘bro hug.’
tara couldn’t help but squint her eyes, you had two roses in your hand this time. normally, you always and only had a fresh red one for tara but this time you carried a yellow one too.
“yellow for the pretty lady,” you hold the rose in front of amber, who had a smile so wide it was almost creepy.
“thank you, y/n.”
you sheepishly smile, “of course.”
“and for you,” you hold out the red rose for tara, who contemplated for a second before taking it.
since when did you give amber a rose too? did something happen between you two that she obvious to?
“you okay?” tara wanted to give you a petty answer but that sweet smile, and those eyes.
“yes, i’m okay. will you sit with me tonight?”
you squint your eyes, wondering why she’d ask when: “you know i always do.”
despite amber’s punching glare tara couldn’t suppress her satisfied smile, she knew it was bad to feel this way about a friend’s crush but when you made her feel like your number one girl what more was there to do.
no one had ever done the little things you do for her, not even chad (who she were awkwardly friends with now.)
“tara, come help me prepare the popcorn.” amber grits.
“oh, i got it. you guys can relax.” you go to stand from the seat you had just taken, (right beside tara.)
“oh no, babe, we got it.” amber pauses her death stare, to beam at you.
“uh ok,” you look to tara for reassurance.
oh my god, those doe eyes.
“we got it.” she softly pats your thigh, before following her best friend to the kitchen.
once the pair reach the kitchen, amber whips around, an angry bird she was. “tara, what the hell was that?”
“what?”
“i told you to back off. i told you to stop accepting their roses, and what do you do? you don’t even just accept it, you make them sit with you for movie night.”
the carpenter subconsciously rolls her eyes, “amber, they always sit with me, and why would i stop accepting their gesture? that’s just rude.”
“tara,” freeman huffs. “you know how long i’ve been trying to get with y/n and you’re trying to steal them from me.”
tara pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue. i can’t steal something that never belonged to you.
“amber, you’re being ridiculous. y/n and i are just friends.”
“mhm, sure seems like you want it to be more.” the dark haired girl points, before pushing past tara while you walk in.
“everything okay?”
“yeah, she’s just really iffy about extra butter.”
you laugh, “just make two bowls. silly thing to argue about.”
“yea.” a silly thing indeed.
“i hope you liked your rose, it wasn’t as fresh as it normally is. once amber asked me to give her a rose too, it took me forever to find a fresh one for her.”
amber asked you for a rose? huh, tara never had to.
“she asked you for one?”
you turn your back, pressing the popcorn button on the microwave. “well, not exactly”
“,she mentioned how i always give you one and i assumed she felt some type of way so i figured why not get her one too.”
“hm…” tara’s tongue once again fishing around the inside of her cheek.
she wouldn’t lie and say this didn’t boost her ego against her best friend.
“she’s been very clingy lately, i hope she got the yellow rose message.”
“yellow rose message?”
“yeah, you know all the rose colors mean something when you give them to somebody. yellow is for friendship.”
you friend-zoned amber?
“then what’s red?”
“love.” you announce, being occupied with the second bowl of popcorn.
“love?”
“of course, what else did your think it meant? we get along very well tara, i thought you got the message…”
“you don’t feel the same?”
tara rapidly shakes her head before any words could even come out, the last thing she would want to do is reject you.
“no no, i mean—yes. yes, i do feel the same.”
you beam that smile at her, “ok good.”
━━━ 👩🏽‍💻
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trashmouth-richie · 7 months
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ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ
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MODERN! EDDIE x FEM! READER
MODERN! KING! STEVE x FEM READER
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
summary: taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.
warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol use, drug use, drug mention, kinda sadboy! Eddie, king Steve being king Steve, modern times so things such as google and Snapchat are mentioned. no use of y/n, reader has a nickname, pet name usage.
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The blazing swell of the late September sun had been pelting down on you all day. Stuffed right between your best friend Eddie and his best friend Steve, the humid Midwest air trickled through the open windows in a hazy wave of oven door heat. 
  Between Steve’s hair-brained idea of driving to Indianapolis for tickets to the annual Irvington Halloween Festival and Eddie’s even more ridiculous idea of taking Wayne’s single cab truck, without A/C to make the 4 hour round trip drive— it was no surprise when the clunking metal of the brown ‘86 Chevy spluttered to a grinding stop alongside the highway. 
  100 miles from Hawkins, and nothing but pent up anger boiling at the surface to keep you all company.
  “Oh this is just great Munson,” Steve groaned, swinging open his door and slamming it shut with a metallic bang. A ring of sweat set deep in the Hawkins athletic shirt he was wearing, a heavy hand pushing his hair from his face, “dude, let’s take the truck!” he mocks the long haired metal head, “fuckin’ told you this would happen!” 
  The boys weren’t exactly getting along for the entirety of this trip. Eddie and you had made plans to decorate your apartment tonight for Halloween, a month too early just like you did every year, a night full of themed snacks and cheesy 80s horror movies, the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. 
  But when Steve showed up at the light blue trailer looking for his wingman to help him score at Hargrove’s party— he was less than impressed to find you peeking around Eddie’s outstretched arm holding open the door, a shit-eating grin on your face. Even more pissed when Eddie told him that you would be tagging along. A roll of his eyes and a scoff on his lips as he pounded down the concrete steps. 
  Steve wasn’t your favorite and you definitely weren’t his. He didn’t get the appeal.. Always too loud, too annoying, acting like one of the boys when clearly you were just too insecure to have any friends that were girls. 
  As he stomped through the dead grass he told himself it had nothing to do with the fact that you turned him down freshman year, never mind that it was six years ago and Steve had plenty of girls added to his belt, his snap score and drawer full of stolen panties proved it. Never mind that his bruised ego from that night at a bonfire in the woods pushed him into his King Steve era. He flicked a cigarette into the dirt, muttering under his breath. 
  “Fuck off, Harrington.” Eddie gripes as he shoves the gear shift into neutral, he lowers down to his left and pulls the hood jack towards him. “It’ll be an easy fix.” He says to you, his breath fanning your sweaty cheek as he shoves open the door and jumps out, boots crunching along the gravel as he pushes the hood open. 
  To be fair, Wayne’s truck had about a 50/50 chance of making the trek to Indianapolis, but Eddie had wanted to take it for a few reasons, and not one of them was for a trip down memory lane like he had told Steve. 
  The first reason he wanted to drive the truck opposed to Steve’s BMW, was lol was because it was a stick shift. An opportunity to let him float the gears and have his veins pop out that he knew was a panty wetter for most girls, he had only hoped you fit into that category. 
  The second reason was simple: there was no air conditioning, meaning the small tank top you were wearing would undoubtedly become very hot, and maybe… just maybe you would think of taking it off to cool down. 
  And finally the third reason mimicked the first… you would be sitting bitch in the middle, and with each shift between gears, his arm would be sliding around the soft plains of your luscious thighs. The same thighs that were bare besides a high waisted pair of cut off shorts that had his mind flipping the perv meter to dangerous levels when you hopped off your bike this morning.
  Greeting him with the same smile that cooked his brain to mush for years. 
  Only today— you were starting to flirt back with him, pushing your ass out and bending at the waist just to untie your shoes. Even though in the history of forever, you had never once taken off your worn converse in the Munson trailer. You also were wearing a tank top, accentuating your curves, and Eddie was ready to chew a hole in the makeshift drywall of his trailer when you bounced up the steps to greet him. 
  Usually you hid your body with a baggy shirt and a pair of jeans, your fuck-off attitude is what earned you the right to have Eddie as a friend in the first place. 
  Tonight he was going to push the limits, share a joint with you when the yellow harvest sun dipped low into the indigo trees, kiss your ear with chapped lips while he held you when the movie had a jump scare… he had a plan. And Steve ‘cockblock’ Harrington was being the worst wingman of all time. 
  Sliding out of Eddie’s door, the Navajo rug blanket snags against the cracked leather of the worn seat. The back of your knees were sticky and shiny with sweat, same as your cleavage, not a single stitch of wind to be found along the gravel road— unless you counted Steve’s annoyed huffs.
  Steve bitched and moaned the entire time Eddie was bent over the truck. Investigating what had gone wrong, “aren’t you supposed to be some sorta mechanic?” He grumbled, pushing his hair from his forehead, slotting his hands back into place around the Levi’s on his athletic hips, “swear to God if you make me miss this party, and what Lily has been teasing me with on snap,” his eyes roll into the back of his head at the thought of it, almost letting out a desperate whine.. “I’ll shoot you dead Munson.” 
  “Take it easy Stevie,” Eddie grunted, his jaw tensed and an irritated tone on his lips. His brows turned inward in concentration as he twisted a wrench with strong grease covered hands from behind the hood, “just need’t..  fuck.” Dark smoke started billowing out around him.
  His foul mouth spewed a string of words that barely made any sense, ending his fit with a slam of the hood and his wrench thrown into the ditch. 
  You walk pointed nails across his sweat covered bare back easing his bruised ego with a sickly sweet voice, “it’s okay,” you preen, pushing your chest into his side  when he wiggles from your tickling fingers, his dark eyes swirling into calm and the huff from his breath lost in his throat, “I’ll just call AAA.” 
  AAA did not service in your area, and according to google— the nearest gas station was twenty miles away, a podunk hole in the wall that sold newspapers for a quarter and had 1 star reviews. 
  “Fuck,” Eddie shouted, kicking the tires and hiding the burn of ache traveling up his leg, “the hell are we gonna do now?” 
  “Guess we’re fucking stranded! Great idea Munson, gonna die by the inbred hands of the family from The Hills Have Eyes, but god we just had to take this piece of shit!.” Steve spit as he flopped back into the bed of the truck. 
  Eddie pointed a greased finger into Steve’s chest, “you,” he said prodding with emphasize, “were the one who didn’t want to buy them online, oh God Eddie let’s just get out of Hawkins for the day, make Lily sweat a little bit, make her think I have a bitch in Indy..” 
  “Fuck off,” Steve said shoving Eddie’s hand away, sitting up, casting a stank eye in your direction, voice laced in venom, “at least my dick is getting w—”
  A pack of cards hits Steve right in the chest, hard and knocking the insult from his lungs. 
  It was your idea.
  The slick pack of cards in the glove box with paisley red design on the front was sure to lend some relief and make time pass between now and when Robin would be on the way, driving Steve’s BMW with white knuckles and the radio off no doubt. You had texted her when the boys were arguing, explaining the situation and promising her a small white baggy from Eddie’s stash when you got back. 
  “great idea,” Steve accuses, “s’ gonna take at least 2 hours to get here,” his hands fly in the air in defeat as he yells, “she’s failed her drivers test four fuckin’ times because she drives like my grandma, and that old bag has been dead for years!” 
  “Cool it, you didn’t have any other ideas besides whining Steve,” Eddie defends, fingers wrapped around the neck of a foggy glass bottle filled with amber liquor, he hands it to you in a slick move of his wrist bending and presenting both a blunt and the bottle like a flower blooming in his open palm, “might as well relax a little s Sswhile we wait, make it worth our while.” 
  The liquor went down with a burn, hotter than the pinked shoulders of Eddie’s sunburnt skin. And the small band of splotchy salmon across Steve’s nose. 
  Eddie wrestled a dusty moth bitten blanket from behind the seat, and spread it on the bed of the truck. Before you could push your ass up onto the tailgate, he had wrapped his hands tight along your hips and hoisted you up. A grip so tight he didn’t want to let go, your body feeling just right in his palms, and you were feeling it too. 
  As the liquor bottle got lighter and lighter, the tension eased, Steve was actually laughing at Eddie’s jokes and wasn’t rolling his eyes as much when he had to give you a card or when Eddie praised you for winning again. 
  When Steve threw his cards on the blanket and twisted his arms in a pout at losing another round of Go Fish, it was his idea to play another game. 
  “It’s real easy,” he explained around a puff of smoke as he shuffled the cards back into the pack with his large tanned hands, a single bead of sweat sloping down from his temple and curling around his chin. “You hold up five fingers, and if you’ve never done what one of us says, you keep a finger up, but if you have… you put a finger down and take a sh—- hey dickhead!” 
  Eddie’s lips turn sinister around the glass bottle as rogue drops of Crown dribble from his chin. “Ooops,” he says coyly, eyes bigger than Betty Boop’s and already feeling the combined high and drunken stupor take over his body, “were you needing this?” 
  Dragging a hand down his face, Steve sighs, “yeah it’s kinda the whole point of the game, fucker,” 
  “Hey…” Eddie whines, “be nice Stephanie.” 
  With another ten minutes of arguing about Eddie being a jackass and Steve being crabby in hot weather, you all agree to play the game, the loser has to finish the bottle and strip off an item of clothing. 
  “Okay so let’s start this easy,” Steve explained, “never have I ever been arrested.”
  Eddie puts a finger down and scowls, “good one Harrington,” he adjusts his legs and leans back against the frame of the truck, “just because you got away doesn’t mean your ass wasn’t just as guilty as mine.” 
  “Shoulda ran faster,” 
  The boys make annoyed faces at each other and it’s Eddie’s turn, “never have I ever… nope I’ve done that… never have I.. shit.. okay pass! I gotta think.” 
  “Your turn,” he says, passing you the bottle of almost empty liquor.
  “Okay, Uhh..” you hold the bottle with both hands and gently peel back the label with your fingernail, rubbing the sticky residue between your fingers, you rack your brain for something that would get them both, “never have I ever… peed standing up.” 
  The boys roll their eyes, and each put a finger down, “cheap shot,” Steve whines, and glowers when you stick your tongue out at him. 
  “Oh I got one!” Eddie says rubbing his hands together, splaying a wicked grin on his face, “never have I ever, socked Billy Hargrove in the face.”
  You push Eddie’s shoulder and slap his chest playfully, as he laughs like a hyena, “he deserved it!” 
  Steve chokes on his inhale of the passed blunt, “that was you?!” 
  “Fuck yeah it was!” Eddie says proudly, “that’s why she’s banned from the pool.” 
  Laughing at the now funny memory of Billy slapping your ass as you walked by him in your swimsuit. 
  The way Eddie’s fist felt in your hands as you shoved it down, the rage in his eyes as he was ready to beat the bricks off of Billy. 
  The sick twist of his mustache when it formed a grin knowing that Eddie was on his last strike with Hopper and couldn’t defend you. 
  And the satisfying crack of his molars splintering in his gum line when you knocked your fist into his jaw.
  The pain and swollen fingers were worth it. 
  “And I’d do it again,” you say lowering a finger and taking a swig from the bottle, the burn of the liquor barely there now. 
  Steve laughs, a new sense of almost admiration, as he looks at you with his hair in his face, grabbing the joint from Eddie’s fingers and holding it firm between his teeth, “my turn,” he says clearing his throat, “uh..never have I ever… kissed Eddie.” 
  You and Eddie look at eachother and giggle awkwardly around the cloud of dense smoke, but your fingers never budge. 
  “Seriously?” Steve says incredulously, looking from you to Eddie and back to Eddie and then you again, “can’t lie in this game, dude.” 
  Eddie had come close to kissing you on a few occasions. Once in high school at Steve’s party after winning the beer pong tournament, he looked at you the way someone would a lover, wetting his lips and looking at your mouth, but in the end he gave you a bone crushing hug and twirled you around the room. 
  Another time during the 4th of July fireworks last year when you had both smoked two bowls from the pretty pipe he gifted you earlier that year on your birthday.
  The air was warm, just like today, and you leaned your back into his front as you laid lazily on the roof of his van. He was singing a song you were too high to comprehend and when you turned your head into his shoulder and looked up at him. 
  His fingers wrapped around a lock of your hair and you hummed in approval. Snuggling further into him. And the next thing you knew it was nearly dawn and you had fallen asleep. 
  It just never seemed like the right time. 
  “So who’s turn is it?” Eddie said clearing his throat. 
  “Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no!” Steve said leaning further into the circle, clearly interested to know what’s going on, “we aren’t just gonna skate past this.”
  “Drop it, Steve,” Eddie said all too fast, his boots stretching out to kick at his thigh. 
  The bottle in your hands is suddenly heavy and you set it down with a clunk on the bed of the truck. And you pick hastily at your nails, avoiding two sets of brown eyes. 
  “Fuck it,” Steve says, tongue dancing around his mouth trying to stop a smirk, “I dare you to kiss her.” 
  You're certain your heart stops beating. 
  “Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs. Running his hand on the back of his neck, his open cut off flannel shirt showing off his tattooed chest. 
  “Y-you don’t have to Eddie, it’s okay…” you say trying to brush the tension off, not noticing the way his hands are fiddling with the ends of his shirt and how his eyes haven’t left you, “but I dare you to.” 
  It could have been the combined high. It could have been the fact that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eddie since you parked your bike against his trailer this morning. 
  He was always good looking, in that goofy best friend kind of way. And although your friendship was never normal, Eddie’s hands always searing through your skin like grill marks on a hotdog, it never crossed the boundary into something more. And you’d be lying if you weren’t curious about how his lips would taste. 
  That was all the convincing Eddie needed before he pushed himself up in a fluid motion, balancing on his knees, and leaning back with a second guess, but it’s you who leans up on your knees too, meeting him halfway.  
  His dark curls swing around your face as he gets impossibly closer. “You sure?” he asks, working a finger under the tip of your chin. 
  And your surprised when your nod is followed by soft lips, slipping against yours. 
  He tasted like the liquor you’ve been drinking and matches. Musky, and woodsy. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip and catches into the corner of his mouth, the brine of sweat on your tongue has you whining into his mouth and he swallows your noises with glee. 
  He shudders when you pull him closer, fingers hooked into the fabric of his shirt. His eager hands holding your face, lips smacking against yours, and for the first time today, it’s not the heat that has your panties wet. 
  Kissing Eddie is like finding money in your jeans after they go through the dryer. It’s easy, and slow, and so fucking good. 
  Seconds, minutes, days? go by before Steve clears his throat and mutters an ahem! 
  Eddie finished the kiss by nudging is nose down the apple of your cheeks and kissing behind your ear. 
  “Fuck…” is all Steve can muster and you bite your lip and sit back down, lips still buzzing with Eddie’s spit still on them. 
  Eddie is smiling and looking at you, eyes drunk on lust. 
  “I— uh, yeah, it’s my turn I guess, ” straightening your back and crossing your legs in a pretzel, you know damn well you’d get at least one finger down from Steve. “Never have I ever… kissed Nancy Wheeler.”
  Steve rolls his eyes and puts a finger down, and when a long finger covered in grease despite the many wipes against denim jeans  also disappears into a fist… a sloppy grin lines Eddie’s mouth as Steve looks like he might throw up. 
  “Are you fuckin’ serious man?” 
  Eddie explains to a butthurt Steve, “let me explain, fuck— it was like a hundred years ago, after junior year, she kissed me!” 
  It was true. 
  Nancy went to Eddie to buy some “forget-‘ems” (Eddie’s coined word for ecstasy) after Jonathan left her for the pretty long haired new boy from California. She was scared and didn’t want to be alone while she took the white pill. Drug use being foreign to her entirely. 
  Eddie? She had asked kindly, unsure about herself for the first time. Take it with me? 
  His long curls bounced as he nodded his head, taking one of the pills from her dainty hands and placing it between his teeth. Tipping his head back with a quick jerk and a rough swallow, hoping it looked cool, he looked into her blue eyes and gave her a grin. 
  It was strange, having the preppy Nancy Wheeler in his trailer with her proper fitting cardigan and light wash skinny jeans. 
  He could tell she was uncomfortable, the normal glow of her skin was lost behind shallow cheeks and dark rimmed eyes, pressed tight with setting powder to try and hide it. 
  maybe she should have had a smaller dose, being that her small frame had never dealt with drugs before. And right when Eddie’s high took over, Nancy Wheeler had started to feel it too.
  She ran around the trailer giggling and feeling the rough edges of the peeling wallpaper. She did flips on Eddie’s bed and spilled cereal all over the kitchen, laughing with dark wide pupil filled eyes. Completely rolling. 
  The high lasted longer than Eddie had thought it would, and she started to cry when thinking about her mom, crying harder when she asked Eddie about his. Forgetting she was gone. 
  She took it a step further by kissing Eddie square on the mouth, wet cheeks and harsh lips pressed to his before he could pull away. And immediately after, Nancy threw up all over his lap. 
  Ending the high and the four hour sudden friendship they had gained. 
  Eddie had told you the story one night when he got too drunk, making you swear to secrecy the next morning that you’d never tell a soul, and you hadn’t. Keeping the pinky promise with your friend all the way to your grave— if he hadn’t just spilled it all to Steve. 
  “See,” you say to try to smooth things over, voice calm and cool through your own high, “no harm no foul, Stevieee,” you chirped, hiding a small giggle behind bit lips. 
  “Really?” Steve spit, flustered and a bit bold trying to mask his hurt with venom. Tongue pressing deep into his cheek and his dark eyes locked on your own, hands tapping onto his bent knees, “then maybe we should even the score, huh?”
  Eddie blows a ring of smoke into the air, following its lazy descent into the dense humid sky. “You wanna kiss Chrissy?” He looks at you with a quizzical expression, laughing at your stunned face, not understanding what Steve is getting at, “be my fucking guest, dude.” 
  “No,” Steve says firmly, not breaking eye contact with you, dark knives of fury peel back each layer of skin, “her.” 
  Eddie says your name in disbelief, and you’re stunned to your core, realizing the air was suddenly much stickier and hotter than before. 
  He sits up straight and leans over the discarded card game, pointing at Steve, eyes narrowed in on him, “you don’t even like her.” 
  “Sure I do,” Steve lies, sniffing loudly, his wicked eyes glance towards Eddie and he licks his lips when he turns his head back to you, eyeing you up and down, as he leans back on his palms, “don’t I, Taffy?” 
  Eddie’s nickname he had given you when you were kids for love of the cavity inducing candy, felt wrong falling from Steve’s mouth, especially in the grim sentiment it was said in. 
  Of course he was referring to the way he had approached you at that party at the lake all those years ago. 
  You could still smell his Acqua Di Gio cologne, the way the sun highlighted his hair that summer, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, the warm beer on his breath. 
  You make a face in disgust towards him, “I’m not kissing you, Harrington.” Crossing your arms in finality as if your words held enough power to command an entire kingdom. 
  Eddie shoves Steve’s shoulder, “what the fuck man,” mixed pleasure of pain and concern painting his face, “don’t be weird.”
  Steve knew how much Eddie liked you, having spent many nights on the roof of his practically abandoned home listening to Eddie through FaceTime over analyzing how to make his move. 
  “‘m not,” he says with a shrug, long fingers tapping against the metal of the truck bed behind him, legs stretched out so the tops of his air forces skim your bent knees, eyeing what he wanted, you. 
  “just trying to get even,” Steve said nonchalantly. 
  “She’s not gonna kiss you,” Eddie said, shaking his head and throwing his hands around, hurt lacing his voice, “give it up.” 
  Steve wiggled the toe of his sneaker against your knee, shooting you a wink, “not until she does.”
  It’s not as if the question hadn’t crossed your mind. It had more times than you’d like to admit. What would it be like to kiss Steve Harrington? 
  “Dude! She doesn’t wanna do it. Fucking leave her alone.” Eddie’s voice was loud and on the cusp of breaking as he pleaded with his friend.
  What would have happened if you fell for his charm instead of turning him down? He was definitely sweet back then, taking your hand in his and guiding you along the rough terrain of the woods. 
  “Let her speak for herself!” 
  Eddie’s eyes fall to yours in desperation, his heart aching for you to tell Steve off, “c’mon, tell him, Taffy.” 
  Pressing your eyes shut tight you can feel Eddie’s hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to remind you that he’s there. 
  “One.”
  “What?”
“What!”
  “Just one kiss, then you need to shut up, got it?” 
  “Taff, you don’t have to do this, we can— we can just get home and I’ll pay him or something.” He’s desperate, willing to do whatever it took to not have this happen. 
  “It’s okay, Eddie, what’s one stupid kiss gonna hurt?” 
  You don’t hear the way he groans and throws himself back against the side of the truck, pinching the corner of his eyes between his fingers trying to ignore Steve’s low chuckle and smirk planted on his face. 
  “C’mon then,” Steve presses, man spreading his legs and patting his lap, “get over here.” 
  You roll your eyes and push yourself up again, “cocky aren’t ya?” 
  “all confidence babe,” he says back, licking his lips, and you roll your eyes again before kneeling in front of him. 
  Eddie groans and kicks at Steve’s leg again. 
  “Sorry dude, just bro code,” he said to Eddie, “and you,” he says addressing you with a nod, “ready?” 
  “Yeah, whatever.” 
  He doesn’t move like Eddie, he’s grabby and rough, taking what he wants and not waiting for cues. He bullies his way into your mouth with his tongue, colliding yours with his and massaging it wildly. It wasn’t bad, just completely different than how you were just kissed by Eddie. When his teeth bite the flesh of your lip you yelp in surprise.
  You turn your head and Steve’s lips trail down your neck, hungry hands grab at your waist and pull you into his lap. Your eyes are closed but his are open, looking at his friend and moving his hand in a wave to beckon him over. 
  A second set of hands is on your shoulders and you feel Eddie’s lips against your neck. 
  “This okay baby?” 
  His breath is hot and stuttering as you reach up and fist your fingers in his hair, your answer muffled by Steve’s mouth. 
  You moan their names, and it drives Eddie wild. 
  Eddie’s hands lower the strap of your tank top scraping your skin with the blunt of his nails. He groans when he sees the absence of a bra strap, diving into your warm skin with a lapping tongue, thrashing slow against your skin, working a strawberry shaped bruise into your skin.
  Steve’s hands are already working to pop the button on your jeans, and you whine when you feel his hard cock beneath your leg. 
  “So fuckin’ pretty,” Eddie breathes as you crane your neck to meet his lips, desperate for your lips to connect with his sgain. 
  His hands fumble on your tank top straps and he groans when his fingers skim over the swell of your tits, you twist his hair in your fingers when his rough hands pinch at your nipples.
  Steve takes his shirt off and tosses it carelessly, his skin is warm on your bare chest as he licks at your exposed neck and earns another moan from you, causing you to whine into Eddie’s mouth and move your hips against his cock. 
  You’re all a tangle of bare chests and sweat coated skin. The boys are barely giving you any time to breathe between open mouth kisses and lazy tongues before the other one commands your attention. 
  “oh, fuck,” Steve whimpers when he works your shorts down, his large fingers find their way into the wet folds of your pussy, “no panties?” 
  Eddie pulls his mouth from yours to let out a desperate groan as your hands unzip his jeans, “shit, all day and no bra or panties,” his hands caress your cheeks and his thumb slips into your mouth open, which you close around him and moan, “you’re a bad girl, huh?” 
  “With the tightest little pussy, fuck,” Steve groans as he pushes a finger into your slick walls. 
  “Mm’mm” you answer them both at once, grabbing needy at Eddie’s cock through his boxer briefs as it flips into your hand, heavy and leaking a pearl of cum from the slit. 
  Noises of all kinds flood the bed of the truck. 
  Wet sloshing from you gushing over Steve’s fingers, him coaxing an orgasm from you as quick as he could, determined to hear your pretty mouth hum. 
Eddie almost in tears as your mouth devours his length  and the head of his cock slides into your throat. 
  The velvet skin of Eddie’s heavy cock slides in and out of your mouth at a slow speed, a small patch of hair rubs on your nose as you take him deeper.
  He’s muttering incoherently and Steve is egging you on. His lips wrapped around your nipples and teeth nipping harshly. 
  “Jesus Jesus sweetheart, Taff— I’m gonna, don’t want to shit shit shit,” you open your mouth and he slides out on accident as you cum all over Steve’s fingers. Sloppy and wet as he rubs at your clit like a DJ. 
  “Thas’it,” he encourages, “so fucking wet, pretty little pussy, yeah, you like this? The two of us giving you what you want huh?” 
  “Yes, Jesus Christ yes!” you’re a blabbing mess, as your high peaks and Eddie spins you away from Steve.
  Steve’s jeans are soaked from you and he’s pitching a tent big enough to host a family reunion. 
  “My turn baby,” Eddie says kissing you sloppy on your lips, “been wantin’ to taste this sweet pussy for years.”
  He helps you lay down on the blanket, making a makeshift pillow with the discarded clothes from the three of you. 
  You’re covered in sweat and more than likely sunburnt in places no one ever should be, but you could care less. Being worshiped by Steve and Eddie had you feeling like the sexiest woman alive, and nothing could compare to the separate high that alone was giving you. 
  Eddie nudges his nose in the crook where your thighs meet, tongue lapping up the pleasure leftover from Steve. “What’d’ya think Stevie boy? Wanna bet I can make her cry?” 
  Steve’s busying himself with unthreading his legs from his jeans, his cock in his hand as he strokes it up and down at the sight of you spread out and naked for them. 
  “You’re on, Munson.”
  Eddie’s tongue was tantalizing. Demon-like against your puffy clit and going further into your pussy than any tongue has before, including Robin’s. 
  His nose pushes up against your clit as he goes deeper, swirling his wicked tongue and slurping your folds into his mouth. 
  You’re buzzing all over. Vibrating from the intense pleasure. Moaning and yanking Eddie’s hair between your fingers as he moves and licks and darts his tongue. 
  Pretty whimpers elicit your body and are swallowed by Steve’s lips, as he hungrily works his tongue into your mouth. The swirling and twirling is all too much.  Their tongues work like hands on a clock and your second orgasm arrives quick fast and in a hurry. The tears spill from your eyes as your writhe and moan beneath them, clawing every inch of their skin. 
  Eddie cleans you up with his tongue holding your hips in place as you shake and try to wiggle away from him. Too sensitive as you lay practically lifeless on the bed of the truck. 
  “Told you,” Eddie says as he sits up, with a sheen of your arousal all over his face. Smiling wide. “I’m just that good.” 
  Steve sits up and tucks his cock back into his boxers, pushing his hair back from his sweat slicked face, “yeah yeah, whatever…” he says, looking out towards the blue sky and the wavering, heat wave horizon, a stupid grin on his lips, “better get dressed sweet girl.” 
  “Thought we were just getting started,” you whine as Eddie kisses his way up your body, laying on his back next to you, his finger threaded with yours. 
  Steve chuckles and points a long finger to the road, “it’ll have to be another time, princess, our ride is almost here.” 
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I have a part two partly written .. lemme know what you would think of that?
CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED
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ieatangstforbreakfast · 7 months
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷  Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷  Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ Chapters are a bit rushed, sorry bout that 😭 hope u enjoy tho
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Chapter 1: Behind the chain
Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mention of death, horrible Spanish. Also, I don’t live in America so idrk how people talk there, so please bear with me.
FIC MASTERLIST
Next Chapter
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“Hello? Yeah, I’m at practice.”
As your feet hit the ground, the chain link fence shutters from the release of your weight— a sigh escaping your lips as you pull your phone up closer to your ear. The sound of your aunt's nags echo from your phone, bellowing across the abandoned subway and overpowering even the sound of your boots hitting the damp ground. It was shrill, her voice. Like a fork being dragged down a piece of fine china. Activating the flashlight of your phone, you swiftly slip your head out of your hood, the new spot now staring back at you like an empty canvas— devoid of life and color. It’s tragic.
As you trudge down the narrow space, your senses begin to process the stench of the horror movie-like scenery. You could heard the pipes’ leaking going along with your aunt’s ongoing lecture about something you couldn’t recall— somehow distracting you from your search.
But what certainly made you uneasy was the chill.
You hated the cold. You hated the way it’d ice your feet, dry your skin, restrict your clothes, and clog your nose. Though ironically, autumn was the season you found most enjoyable. Most of the nostalgia you bore came from the sight of those scarlet leaves— the smell of pumpkin spice, your mother’s old scarves, and the earthly rich tones of orange and red. It’d been so long, though, since your last happy memory in the season.
Nowadays, the nights are just longer, and the days shorter.
Soon enough, you stop before a tall, white wall, making you gasp as though you’d just won the lottery. Only then you started bidding your farewells to your aunt, who was beyond exasperated with your hurried adieu. Shoving the gadget down your pocket, your backpack falls right off your shoulder with a small thump, eyes still glued onto the blank space.
You make your way towards one of the seats, settling down your stuff while slipping your vape out the crevices of your sleeve and taking a slow puff— the taste of peppermint flourishing through your lips and covering up the stench of whatever was rotting in the railways.
"You're early." A familiar, sarcastic growl emits from the shadows. You turn around as the light from your phone blinds him, making him wince.
“I missed you.” You playfully answered.
The familiar gleam of hazel blinks and stares right back at you, the same stoic stare narrowing from your comment.
“Sure you did.” He huffs.
In the back of your mind, the same phrase bellows.
Well, well, well. If it ain’t Miles Morales.
It was one night, two months ago, when the two of you first met. You were an utter mess, and so was he— and it just so happened that beneath all that rain, the two of you found each other at the right time, at the right place. Supposedly.
The two of you bonded in loneliness and art. It was almost poetic, especially knowing that the two of you were anything but good for each other.
But you believed that that’s what’s great about life— the reckless things, and betting whatever you have on the line, for a taste of something thrilling. Miles knew how to pull on your strings, and the idea of being understood was still new to you. Still, whenever you do find yourself in the comfort of Miles Morales, you can’t help but ask yourself:
Who will we be to each other?
How will we change each other’s lives after this?
You couldn’t quite tell if it was your gut warning you, or your anxiety just being a little shit, but you knew the time to hear the answers was drawing near. You had no idea whether the possibility mortified you or not.
One thing for certain though, was that you knew you wanted him, and you were willing to take the risk to see him over and over again.
Miles took a step closer, his height towering over you like a tree. With a single finger, he maneuvers your flashlight away from his face with a light push.
"Get that shit away from my face."
“Awe, but I wanna see that pretty face of yours.”
“Stop.”
Cat and mouse was your usual dynamic. Though you couldn’t quite pinpoint who the cat was.
He clicks his tongue, moving away from you to head over somewhere else. A few seconds later, the power suddenly lights up and brings the subway back to life. Miles stood by the power switch, staring right at you as if to examine your reaction.
You straightened your lips and raised your brows.
"Well, you should've done that sooner."
He lazily shrugged his shoulders, approaching you once more yet with more meticulous steps. "Wanted to scare ya." He cooly confessed, earning nothing but another chuckle.
"If you wanted to scare me, don’t look so pretty."
Said pretty boy furrowed his brows, making you grin wider.
"Ay, díos. You're..." For a short moment, he thinks of how to complete the sentence.
You hum. "I'm what?"
".. so fucking unbearable."
"Awe, I missed you too." You smiled in a sickly sweet way while placing a hand over your heart. That certain sort of thrill began thumping inside you again, an unfamiliar excitement that got you staring right at him mindlessly with that stupid look on your pretty face. As Miles replied with silence, you shrugged and pulled the mod up your tinted lips— blowing the smoke away from his face. Only then, you gestured it towards him.
"Want a hit?"
"Nah." He dryly replies. "That's your first step to a rehab, y'know."
A low laugh exits your lips, taking another hit while slowly walking around. "With how fucked up I am, I'm bound to end up in either jail, a rehab, or a mental institution— so," You snap your fingers. "I'm just gonna enter all three of them."
Miles looks at you, horrified.
"M’just kidding. Don't you think I look hot while doing it, though?"
He peels the horrified stare away from you, instead choosing to kneel before your backpack, unzipping the damn thing as though it were his.
"What'chu got?" He asks, a certain twang in his voice that lightened you up. You head over in less than a second, grinning stupidly like a little kid in search of favor. You pull the plastic bag out of your backpack, waving it over his face.
"Only the best for you." You wink. "I just kindly borrowed these from my school's art club."
Receiving the bag from your grasps, Miles pulls out the newly bought spray paints. He furrows his brows at the sight of the bold fifteens printed on the bottom of each bottle, a tag left as if to brag. "Kindly borrowed, huh?" He skims over the bottle, evidently impressed. "Fifteen dollars per bottle? That’s a whole heist right there.”
“I literally just snatched it off the cabinet.”
“You must go to some rich kid’s school or sum. You even look the part.”
He gestures over your well-kept appearance. Your clean boots, pressed jeans, freshly done nails, and fragrant hoodie.
And yet you continued to look at him like he was the crazy one.
"... Miles, it’s called neatness. A basic trait." You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, the ache in your bones subtly easing. "If I did have the money, my art would be in an exhibition, not in an abandoned subway."
He pursed his lips, somewhat convinced. "Touché."
As he unpacks the paints, you stay beside him, watching as he goes through the colors and lines them up in order. You shove your hands down the pockets of your hoodie, humming.
"So what'll you be drawing tonight?"
"I ain’t really sure yet… The Subway logo, maybe." He shrugs, an exhausted groan rolling off his tongue as he stands up. "… I ain't got shit. I'm drained."
"Then why'd you come here?"
"Felt bad for ya."
You smirk. "So you did miss me."
He takes a step back, turning his head the other way. "I sure do find your delusional ass amusing." He mumbled, trying to hide the anxiety gnawing at his throat. You hardly notice it, as you were too busy staring at the empty wall, but Miles was uneasy. Uneasy in a way that he was desperate to hide it.
"At least I’ve got an ass." You airily snap back, silence following like an awkward stench. "Did you bring your sketchbook with you, by the way?"
He then proceeds to go through his jacket, eyes widening from the realization. "Ah, shit. I did... Not."
"Awe." You blandly answered, pulling out your own from the pocket of your bag. It was small, convenient, almost like a notepad. "Well, I've got mine here." You toss it over, which he successfully catches. "They're not exactly as good as yours, but you can skim through the pages to find some inspiration."
The pages spin from the flip of his fingers. Tens of concept art, a few unfinished sketches, and some dabbling in watercolor appeared before him in a flash. As he goes through the pages, you take the moment to have a momentary smoke, straying not so far away just so he wouldn't inhale any of it. The nicotine eased you as it normally did, though now that you were looking at this pretty boy before you, you couldn't help but ponder about quitting. Just for him. Just for the sake of him.
Though the feeling the nicotine often brought you was addicting, his presence hit you harder than any other drug, affecting your system in a way that made your stomach whirl. He was like your favorite cup of coffee— the strongest coffee to ever linger in your presence. Strong enough to appear on a drug test.
It was damning.
Dangerous even.
As the page flips again, Miles freezes at the sight. You take the gadget away from your lips, approaching him immediately as he huffs.
"... Huh."
Bursting in neons of magenta and violet was the sketch you made of a certain vigilante.
"Oh, don’t mind that." You mumble. "That's just some random sketch."
He brings the paper closer to his sights, marveling at your talent. The markers and the ink, mirroring the image of a cat on the run. His pretty lips part, mouth hanging agape as he asks. "You know this guy?"
A hero of the streets, some sort of final pillar carrying the weight of New York's safety on his broad shoulders.
"Well, I've seen him— Prowler, from the news. I thought he looked pretty cool."
Prowler, a name all too familiar to you. How could you not know he was? A man hiding behind an iron mask, a digital purple hologram over the metals, making his silhouette mirror a panther’s. The man was all your father recently growled about, the memory of the heavy morning still engraved into your mind. You can almost sketch it out— The stench of his tobacco, the shrill of his angered voice, and the image of your poor housekeeper silently brushing some broken shards into the dustpan. You remember sitting by the dining table, solemnly choking on your breakfast as you forcibly shoved it down your throat.
Eyes downcast and hands shaking.
"You think he's cool?" Miles' voice tears you apart from the memory. He sounded almost elated, like a child in search of praise.
"Yeah, I'd always wanted to be a vigilante, fuck—" The vape rolls off your tongue unconsciously. "Like, my life is so damn boring, but at the same time, I've got too many responsibilities to handle so I can't do the things I like. But hey, that's life, I guess."
"If you've got too many responsibilities, then what the hell are you doing here? It's like midnight r'now, damn."
"I kinda told my aunt I had practice for band."
"You're in a band?"
"…. No." You deadpan. "That's the reason why I'm here, man."
He snapped the sketchbook shut, sighing as he plucked out the red and purple spray paints from the line. "God, you'd be one hell of a headache if I ever had a kid like you."
"Woah, slow down, sweetie, you're already talking about kids and you haven't even taken me out to dinner yet." You tease, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you watch him crumble. He straightens his lips, forcefully holding back a smile.
"… Shut that mouth for me, would ya?" He shot back. "Just shut up."
"Oo, make me."
He pops the lid off the red paint, the sound of a nickel ball being shaken up in a metal can soon following. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he curtly sprays the paint over your sleeve, earning a gasp from you. You quickly snatch the neon pink can and start spraying back, the chemical smell wafting over your nostrils as the sound of your giggles echoed down the halls. A minute later and the both of you began drawing your new piece while being drenched in paint.
"Hey, pretty boy.”
Miles instinctively turns to look at you, as though he prided himself in the nickname.
"I need to do the top part, can you boost me?" You ask, voice muffled from the towel pulled over your nose.
Maybe it was the exhaustion, but he agreed without making a sound.
He kneels, tapping on his thigh, gesturing you to take your step. Taking off your shoes, you cautiously climb over, feeling his hands brush against your calves, almost as if he was readying his stance to catch you just in case you fall. Initially, the pose seemed to be serving you well, but when your ankles started shivering, your hand latched onto his head, gripping gently in panic. Miles, who was, of course, caught off guard, began shaking. You finally took a step down.
"Fuck." You whispered. "Can you do it?"
"Hol' on."
"I think you just need to like, tiptoe a bit and—"
"Be patient."
And you did just that.
He stretches out his toes in an attempt to reach for the top, but he fails miserably. Miles then turned to you, bearing the pout of a frustrated child.
"... Ya already know what to do, right?"
"Mm, yeah."
An irrational thought crosses his mind, and it battles against his rationality like a civil war within the confines of his head. A second later, his lone finger signals you to come closer. You do so, and he looks up at the unfinished crown.
"I'm gonna carry you, a'ight?"
"What?" You blurt out. "Y-You don't have to—"
"Just balance yourself." He skips past your rant. "And you better do it well."
Before you could even intervene, he's down and offering you his shoulder. Hesitantly, you position yourself. Looking over at you, Miles skims over your face in search of approval. When your hand shakily makes its way over his other arm, Miles cautiously wraps his palm over the side of your knee, hoisting you up like a trophy he’d just won.
"You okay?" He asks.
"Y-yeah. Just— yeah." You stumble over your words, raising your hand over to start painting.
You could feel it tingling in your bones. Skin deep, rotting within the confines of your flesh, insecurity at its highest peak. And it shut you up. Miraculously, as Miles would say it. Your weight, your body, your own figure frightened you. It would be a lie for Miles to claim that he hasn’t noticed. But he stood tall, hardly showing an ounce of any struggle— which comforted somehow.
He was pretty strong, stronger than you first thought.
As you painted, Miles stood there in silence. Trying his best to focus on his breathing.
But the softness of your palm atop his shoulder, and the growing warmth of his own over your waist. Miles desperately tried to ignore growing warmth burning his cheeks. He resisted the urge to dig into the softness of your waist, and yet it remained like a taunt— allowing only his nails to grip over your shirt, the thin barrier over your skin. It seemed almost vulgar, how his hand was beneath your hoodie, gripping as though you were his favorite plush. How his wrist was pressed against the curve of your hip. Then and there, within the span of five minutes, the silhouette of your body was forever engraved into his senses, his mind, and his touch.
But no one spoke of it.
"... You done?" He groaned.
"In a bit, hol' on."
You thought he'd start complaining about your weight, but he didn't.
You were somewhat relieved, but at the same time, it flustered you.
And when the little scene ended, you and Miles stood there, backs pressed against the wall as you stared at your new masterpiece. You looked over the chemical stains on your sleeves, glancing at him. "This jacket's pretty expensive, y'know. It cost me like fifteen grand."
His face twisted in disgust. "You'd buy a jacket like that? In this economy?”
"It's a capitalist world we live in."
"No shit."
The two of you share a small laugh, evidently exhausted from the whole art process. It wasn't all that much, but it was based on one of your many doodles during class. The cursive that spelled out Stay Out was painted in an intimidating shade of red, its borders tainted in white and black— a crown of thorns resting above the text. It seemed like a warning, an open threat. Crafted by frustration, but upon its finish, you were eased.
"Next time, we should do something that says 'Eat the rich' or 'Vive la revolución.'" Miles suddenly suggested, jazzing his fingers comedically. You click your tongue. "We might get shot, man.”
“With all that smoking you do, you’ll wither away before the bullet even manages to get you.”
You raised your brows. “Okay, and?”
Miles scoffs at your ridiculous reply, but for a moment he thinks about it— some sort of plan in his mind. Sooner or later, he soon gently raises his palm without a word. You stare at his hand confusingly, “What?” you then asked of him. The boy then gestured over his lips with his fingers shaped like a v, imitating the act of smoking. “Lemme try, at least once.”
“… You’re kidding.”
“I’m being for real, ma, just let me try it once.”
You think about rejecting his request, but the curiosity had you fishing out your e-cigarette in less than a second.
“Okay, but if you die, I’m not paying for your damn ambulance bill.”
“Just uber me to the damn hospital.”
Miles then looks at it, glaring holes into the pen-shaped gadget as though he were waiting for it to speak. After considerably taking his time, he plucks it out your palm and starts a slow sip, the collision of the nicotine and the flavor flooding his tongue as the smoke enters his system. When the heat creeps in, however, he bursts out into a coughing fit.
You snatch the gadget away from his grasp as he groans.
“Careful.”
"What the fUCK—, ain't that s'pposed to calm you down?—" He slams his hand against the center of chest in an attempt to ease his lungs.
"… Did you fucking swallow the smoke or what?" You sigh while taking a sip, the smoke smoothly exiting your lips.
"... You know what? You are definitely gonna die early."
"Oh, darling, don't threaten me with a good time."
“Pu—” He coughs a few more times. “Puta, I almost died there.”
You take your palm and began rubbing small circles behind his back. “You shouldn’t do the shit I do, even if I look hot doing it.”
“Ain’t nobody told you that.”
“… Why’d you wanna smoke anyway?”
“I just wanted to know why you keep doing that.” He groans, staring at the pen in your fingers. “I mean— it’s unhealthy as fuck, hardly tastes good, and it’ll kill you the ugliest way possible. So why do it?”
You lower the pen as though your long-lost conscience re-entered your body.. “… I don’t know really.” You mumbled half-heartedly. “I think it’s what calms me down the most…? I don’t know.”
“… You don’t have, like, normal hobbies?”
“The fuck— of course, I do.” You swiftly shot back. “I just don’t have the time to do them.”
“Then what do you do at home?”
You blink.
“What— What do I do at home?” You repeat, thinking of it to yourself. “That’s a good question, what do I do at home?… I do chores, I study a lot. I-I take care the house.” Take care of the house? Yeah, shit I ain’t Mirabel Madrigal. As your mind short circuits, from a mile away, you could already guess his reply.
“I do that too, dumbass.”
You click your tongue. “.. It’s complicated. The time I usually have for myself is when I’m outside, that’s why I lied that I took up band for extra credit.”
You smoothed out the details of your life, picking out a few small details that were definitely not all that important.
"Is that why you're here?"
"Yeah.”
The boy curved his lips into a slight frown.
“I mean,” You shift closer, sighing as you palm the back your neck. “Sometimes, places like these are better than my own home."
"Places like an abandoned subway?"
“You make it sound like I’m homeless.”
“That’s what it sounds to me.”
"... It’s just.." You run your fingers through your hair, eyes glued onto the ceiling above. "I feel more at home in an abandoned subway more than my own house.”
Miles hummed. "… I'd always thought home would be more of a person," He tilts his head. "Rather than a place."
The silence was deafening, but this time, nothing was urging you to fix it— because there was nothing in need of fixing. You were comfortable, weirdly enough, as you never really found comfort in utter silence.
“It’d be nice to be.. Someone’s home.” You couldn’t help but utter those cheesy words. “I think I’d make a great home.”
Miles fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, holding back the words that echoed in his mind.
Yeah, you’re doing great.
Instead, what slips out of his mouth was: “How the fuck are you gon’ be a home? You’re a whole haunted house.”
“Oh, fuck you.” You roll your eyes. “If I’m a haunted house, you’re a rental where all the drive-by shootings happen.”
“Okay, what the fuck.”
“When you go low, I go LOWER.”
In the end, the two of you simply bursted into laughter, sinking down to the floor to take a seat. Another hour passed and so did a hundred topics. They flew by like the autumn leaves, leaving the both of you unconsciously huddling close for warmth beneath the large scarf you brought. Two birds of one feather, one nest. Easy conversations, light laughs, and genuine interest.
Even when the conversation grew darker, the two of you infinitely felt cosy enough to confide in one another. Especially when Miles spoke about his father.
You listened well, yet there was this ball stuck in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow. A heaviness in your heart, a stiff feeling in your throat. However, your ears were welcoming. His tone was grieving, but his words resonated with acceptance.
"He used to drive me every morning to school... We'd fight over the pettiest things, and god, I hated it, but looking back, it was better then." He buried half his head into his arms. "I'd rather have him annoying me than have him not annoying me at all."
The words hit you like a truck, leaving you defenseless. In a moment, your walls crumble as these words crawl out your mouth. "... Sometimes, when we're with someone, you can't help but wish they'd leave you alone, but when they're gone, only then you'll realize how much you can't live without them."
Though your words were meant for Miles, you knew damn well that they were also for you.
"... There's some truth to that, I guess."
"Does that mean that you'd miss me when I'm gone?" You tease.
Your gentle gazes collide, and eventually, you see that Miles had softened entirely.
"... Maybe."
“.. Maybe?” You repeat his reply. “.. Should I annoy you more then?”
“You’re annoying enough as you are.” He huffs, pulling his knees to his chest. “I hate you so much.”
“Sure you do.”
You lean against his shoulder. “Hate me all you want. I’ll pretend to believe you.”
A light chuckle emits from his lips, but as it fades, he turns his head, burying his nose in the scent of your hair. You were fragrant, and it was addicting. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and basks in your scent.
Then he called out your name softly.
You hum, looking up at him— the inches between you closing in, cold breaths like white smoke intertwining. His cold fingers dance atop your own.
“What?” You whisper.
His lids were heavy, gaze switching between the pool of your eyes and the plush of your lips.
Then and there, you knew.
But something screamed at you in the back of your mind.
We can’t.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
And you pulled away before your lips could even meet.
"Shit." You cuss, clumsily pulling the phone out of your pockets. Your hands frantically scramble to answer the call, the look of Miles' defeated stare stinging the corner of your eye. "Hello?" You began, hearing the chauffeur's voice ask back. "Ma'am, where are you?"
Your fingers press the side of your phone, lowering the volume.
“We're currently clearing up the room right now. Can you please wait about thirty more minutes? Thanks."
As the call ends, you frantically head off to start cleaning up. Trying to evade whatever had just happened— at least, you try to. It invaded your mind and heart, left you breathless and unsteady.
You and Miles began picking up the bottles, shoving it inside the plastic. You then flung the strap of your backpack onto your shoulder, holding the plastic out to him. "You can have it."
Confusion was scribbled all over his face.
"Didn't you steal that from your school's art club?”
You look up, thinking about it for a moment before shrugging. "It’s their problem, not ours." You grin.
Miles shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Tsk tsk tsk, eres una chica tan mala."
"Don't start, the only Spanish I know's from Dora."
"Que?"
"Queso."
You shove the plastic into his arms. "No hablo Español, lo siento." Was all you managed to form out of the past few weeks you started learning Spanish. You threw a hand in the air, waving him a fast farewell while pivoting your heel to leave.
“Can’t I walk you home?” A suggestion, and not a demand for the first time, Miles insists “It’s dark as fuck outside, and you might get.. Y’know.”
For a moment, you pause to laugh.
“Are you worried about me?”
He nods. “I am.”
“I— wait, what?”
He took a step further. “I am worried about you. It’s ten o’clock. I think I should take you home.”
Miles looked at you in a way you’ve never seen before. It was unfamiliar, or maybe you just weren’t good at paying attention, yet now that it was materializing before you— It overwhelmed you.
It was breaking you open.
You bite your lower lip, shoving your hands in your pockets.
“… I-I don’t know, I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”
“And I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like the idea of his lil’ girl getting hurt.”
There he goes again, towering over you, his cocky eyes never once leaving your face. Lil’ girl my ass, you can’t help but think. I’m tall, asshole. You just so happened to be taller.
“I’ll walk you home.” He reiterates. Now it’s an announcement, not a proposal. “You can tell me to leave when we’re near. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”
“… Miles,” The way his name rolls off your tongue had him weak, and you couldn’t even tell. “.. Okay, fine— But, only up until the Gristedes down the block. Until then, you go home, alright?”
Your voice was too soft, too mellow. It made his breath hitch, made his neck tense in this already cold weather.
“Aight.”
488 notes · View notes
girl8890 · 2 years
Text
JK | Cabin in The Woods
word count: 6.7k
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Summary: Everyone knows to stay out of the forest, but through a dare you ventured in… you just never came out. Meeting a wolf that says he needs you to survive, and you have no one else to give your love to but the animal that uses you every night.
Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Human!Reader
Genre: yandere, supernatural!au, horror!au, smut, angst, some fluff (if you squint)
Rating: 18+
Warnings: bullying, disfiguration of body parts, breaking of bone, mate bonding, possessiveness, implied murder, blood, eating of people & living animals, implied/attempt at rape/non-con, vaginal sex, cream pie, cock warming, pussy sniffing & kissing, jk is horny for reader 99% of the time, kinda stockholm syndrome-ish, easily manipulated reader, dom!jk, sub!reader, lonely!reader
A/N: The best way I can explain this fic is that jk has actual wolf tendencies. He’s more wolf than man, so you’ll find that he relates more to a wolf in this fic than to his human half. I had a dream about this, probably should see a therapist, but here we’re instead! I hope you enjoy, my yandere lovers! 😌
。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。 。・°°・°°・。
You don’t know why you agreed to the dare. It was stupid to even think nothing would happen to you.
All you wanted was to make some friends, so when some people in your hometown asked you to come to their party, you were all for it. When you got to said party, it wasn’t what you were expecting. Everyone’s eyes were on you, and the peer pressure was to the max. Somehow a game of truth of dare started, and now your here—alone in the woods because you were one of the few daring people at that party.
You weren’t daring, though, and the dare wasn’t random. It was pointed at you by a couple of college kids that wanted to pick on the loner girl. You realized this after the hour in the haunted forest definitely went by, and no one came to save you.
North became south, and west became east. Any direction you pointed yourself in, you would find yourself trailing deeper and deeper into the woods where too many tourists and even a few locals never came out of.
You swore the forest was even playing tricks on you. Swearing that each tree looked the same, and the fog got thicker with each step you took. You didn’t stop your hurried walking, to try and get out of the forest as quickly as possible, until you heard a snap of a twig from behind you. Slowly turning your head, something you never thought in your twenty-two years of life you would ever see was standing right above you on a rock.
It was a wolf.
Not just any wolf. A snarling, big, yellow eyed, and black furred scary looking wolf that still had animal carcass from an earlier dinner hanging out of its mouth. And you had a feeling it wanted you for desert. You, for some reason, thought if you stayed still that it wouldn’t see you. Like all the movies about predators not being able to see their prey if it stayed still. Well, you very quickly realized this is not Jurassic Park and the wolf lunged at you.
You screamed, sliding somehow just out of the way from the wolfs attack, and then booked it. Running as fast as you can, and screaming as loud as you can. You claimed this day to be the worst one of your life because even as you ran like hell, the wolf still followed closely behind. Four big paws hitting the ground way faster then your two feet were.
You think you may have run a mile that day just trying to get away from the wolf. When you finally decided to look back and see the beast, you were finally able to skid to a stop when you see it’s not behind you. You breathe out a sigh of relief… but that relief didn’t last long.
Just as you turn back around, the same beast as before springs out of the shadows and tackles you to the ground. The beast hunted you. It made you think it left and had you let your guard down. Stupid mistake because now your done for. 
The beast growled in your face, and pinned your entire body to the ground. It’s sharp, huge teeth dripping with drool right on your face. This was it. This was going to be the end of your life, and you were going to be apart of the many that ventured into this forest and never came out.
Tears streamed down your face, and because you felt desperate you even begged the wild animal. “Please… I-I’m not ready to die.”
In that moment, you thought you even heard the wolf laugh. A heavy chuckle coming from its snot. But in that moment, when the beast was laughing at your pathetic pleads, it sniffed the air around you and then it’s pupils dilated. The wolf inhaled again, this time pressing its snout right against your neck, and making you shake with fear when you thought it was going to bite you.
There was a moment of silence, the wolf keeping its nose against your neck, and then it retracted it’s snout away from you. Everything happened so fast after that…
The sound of bone crunching was the first thing you heard, but it wasn’t your own. The creature above you backed away a messily bit, and it was only because the head of it was melting away. It’s then you realize it’s body was transforming into something you’ve never seen before. Body parts coming out of its skin, and constant sounds of broken bones snapping as each piece of the wolfs limbs melted away into one of… something else.
When the first limb that was being created out of the wolf became whole, you realize it was one of a persons. A man’s hand attached to a whole arm as each piece of him clicked together. It was a gruesome and slow process to watch. One that would of had you gagging if you weren’t so focused on the once wolf turning into a man.
When each bone finally clicked in place, a man that would of had you swooning by his looks alone any other day was kneeling above you. His hair was close to hitting his shoulders, and to the opposite of what you would expect from a creature like him, his skin was smooth to the touch except a singular small mole under his lip. His lips were pink, chapped, but plump and they were above a jaw line that most women would compliment as being sculpted from the gods.
It’s then, as more silence stretches on and you’re now staring into two brown eyes that were once yellow, that you put the pieces together of what creature us standing before you. Of what creature—this very muscular, and very naked, creature of a man has been doing in these woods too. Making countless people disappear, and having too many people afraid to even step foot into these wood because of it. Because of him.
“Werewolf,” You say at the same time the beast above you says, “Mate.”
And that was the day your life changed forever.
———
Nobody missed you. Nobody went out searching for you. You assumed everyone at the party thought you died, so that was the end of loner girl y/n. Probably didn’t even have a memorial like all the other forest disappearances.
You had no parents to worry about you. Your mom died over a year ago from complications, and eventually your father died soon after from a broken heart. No siblings or other close relatives to wonder about you, so you were stuck. Stuck in the woods with the only person—being, wolf, whatever—that actually showed he… cared?
You’ve be in a small cabin in the woods with him for three months now. It was a cabin that if an people passed by—not that they would venture in to the woods or get that close to begin with—wouldn’t think twice about it being abandoned and nothing worth exploring. But on the inside was everything a girl like you needed.
A somehow working bathroom, a small kitchen right in front of the door, and a queen sized bed (that’s more of a mattress on top of a old bed holder) that was pushed into the corner of the small cabin. With a blanket and two pillows on top of it. One pillow that ironically had a picture of a wolf sewed into the fabric of the pillow case. Everything a girl like you needed to survive was in this small space.
And everything the werwolf needed, Jungkook you found out his name was the day you met him, was you and what was in the last door of the cabin. The door that opened up to a set of steep stairs, and held nothing but a steal cage in the middle. That’s where he held you the first week you stayed here. Trapped and forced to endorse his ritual of claiming you as his. Teaching you how to be the perfect little submissive human to his dominate wolf.
He never took you as a an actual wolf luckily, but he did take you that first meeting in the woods. On the ground, with your clothes ripped apart, and you crying and screaming for him to stop. It wasn’t until he bit into your neck, forever claiming you as his mate, that it felt like your whole world shifted.
Suddenly it was like you could do nothing but submit to him. You still had resolve, though. And that’s why he kept you in the cage for so long. A week may not seem like much, but it did for you. Especially when he—allegedly—left you down there at night. He didn’t let you out until you promised never to leave, and after three months you’re still here.
You’re currently washing a dish in the small sink in the kitchen. You just ate lunch of what you assumed was rabbit, Jungkook being the one to hunt for yours and his food, and once your done with cleaning it you put it on a towel to dry. You look up from the sink at the same time Jungkook as a wolf came into view of the small window in the kitchen above the sink. You can see he’s holding in his mouth what looks to be a deer, and you grimace as you think about how he killed it.
You open the cabins front door when he gets close enough to the house, and move off to the side so the big wolf can squeeze himself into the house. Shutting the door behind him, he came in into the kitchen area and dropped the dead deer on the floor. You crotch onto the floor in front of what you presume to be dinner, and you aren’t scared of the wolf’s fangs as he continues to heave out breathes next to you.
You haven’t been scared of his wolf for a long time.
“Poor Bambi,” You say as you pet the deers snout. Earning a growl from Jungkook as you touch the dead deer so tenderly, and then he pushes his own snout in between your hand and the deer so you can then pet him. “Stupid wolf.”
You smile as the wolf laughs. A husky chuckle of a noise you remember used to confuse you when you heard it, but now you know it as him laughing in wolf form.
He then backs away from your hand after a few scratches, and you look away as he begins to transform into the man you were forced to love. The only person you love.
The sound of broken bone came from your right, but it wasn’t until you feel a human nose against you cheek that you turn to see a hairless faced Jungkook. His hair is still a bit long, but you convinced him to cut it a little shorter and even chop a part of it completely off. Making it look like he had a buzzed portion of a quarter of his hair. He’s currently naked, but you ignore that fact. Being very used to his naked form by now.
“Hello stupid wolf,” You say in greeting with a small smile, and you watch his own smile twitch up for a second. He then pushes his face forward, and you let your eyes drift shut when you know he’s about to take in your smell. Something he always does when going into human form and being in front of you.
He first presses his nose back onto your cheek, it wiggling a little as it touches you. Then he moves his nose to your own, and glides it next over your two eyes. Sniffing and inhaling every few seconds. It isn’t until he goes to your lips that you allow your eyes to open half-lidded.
Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but he senses you staring at him so he opens his own eyes. Two pools of brown looking back at you as he slowly presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you know his eyes are still open. It’s a small, barely any pressure type of kiss and you always think he’s doing it more for you then for him. He knows he doesn’t need to kiss you to earn your love, to own you, but he kisses you anyway.
After a moment of the soft pressure of his kiss to you, he detaches from your lips. You flutter your eyes open, and you hear a quiet growl rumble from his chest. Making your eyes flicker down to where you believe it sounded from.
“Hello… Y/n,” Jungkook says with a broken up voice. You think he’s never talked in his human form until he met you. At least not for a long time, so hearing his voice now is a rarity but you can’t help yourself and smile at him as he practices speaking.
“Yes, I’m y/n.” You press your hand to your chest. “And your Jungkook.” And then you press that same hand onto Jungkook’s naked chest right above his slowly beating heart.
You watch the corner of his lips twitch up again into a small smile, and you wonder what it would look like for him to actually smile. With teeth and all.
“Yes,” Jungkook says simply as he nods at you. He then takes his face away from so close to you, and aims his sights on the bite mark he left on you during the first day you met. You softly gasp when you feel his finger touch the surface of your neck. Gliding his fingers around the jagged teeth marks that will never go away. He then says with a mouth full of clenched sharp teeth, “Mine.”
And you’re his. He’s drilled it enough into your mind and body that you’re his. That he needs you to survive because a wolf without his mate is futile. Just like how your father died without your mother, Jungkook would die without you.
He may have brought up the situation in parts, and started this relationship in a terrible way, but he’s been alone and stuck in his wolf for a very long time. He didn’t know what “no” meant, and everything humans learned about consent and taking things slow into a relationship was nonexistent to him. So, he did what he does best when he wants something, he took it. Took you right there on the forest floor, and came deep inside you as he bit against your neck hard. Claiming you to him and his wolf forever.
Jungkook then slowly departs his finger from your neck, and wraps his arms around your arms and back. Your arms are sandwiched in between the two of you, and you’ve come to learn he likes to hold you this way. Having you safely protected in his arms, and he can easily bring his whole body on top of you so he can scent all of you at once. You pull your legs to your chest, knowing he’s going to scoop them up after he’s done sniffing your hair.
With one last whiff of your hair, he rubs his nose on top of your head. He then, just like you thought, scoops your legs up with one arm and supports your back with the other. Picking you up bridal style, and looking down at you as he caries you to the bed.
Your cradled and squished against him the whole ten steps there, but the whole way feels so safe. You would think a wolf like him that has such animal tendencies would be the worst place for you to be, but overtime you recognized it as the safest place for you. No one could touch you as long as your with him.
But that just means the big bad wolf would always have the ability to touch you.
———
Some time later, when your clothes are stripped off of you and your stomach is being pressed against the mattress, Jungkook drives his cock roughly into you from behind. It’s a rough, hard, and rocky affair every night. That’s right, every night.
The only times he doesn’t take you is when you’re on your period, and that’s because he hates the smell of blood on you. Keeping his distance and staying in wolf form the whole week, so he doesn’t temp himself in his human form.
Your hands are holding onto the front of the mattress in a tight grip, and his hands are clamped on top of yours as he continues to drive into you on repeat. Your moaning so loud it sounds like a scream, and each time you feel his hips press against you to go as deep inside you as possible you arch your back as a quivering sensation goes off in your stomach. Indicating you’re going to cum for the first time that night soon.
Jungkook grunts above you in a animistic way when he feels your pussy clench around his length. Making the teeth of his wolf elongate when his peek gets closer. His cock continues to drill into you at a fast pace as he brings his mouth down onto your neck. He doesn’t bite you, but he does apply a soft pressure of his teeth onto the bite mark he left there three months ago.
He doesn’t need to bite because he knows you know he already owns you. He owns your body, and he knows it so well by now that he doesn’t need to repeat the hurtful mark again. Just laying the sharp teeth across the ridges is enough of a reminder to what you are to him.
With a few more thrusts, banging his hips against your ass, your cumming along side him as he groans into your neck and you moan into the mattress. You lay there, heavy breathing going off from the both of you as your highs decrease. Jungkook takes his teeth off of you and then licks the surface of your neck. A little blood trickling down it since his orgasm was so harsh he bit down on you a little.
When he’s done cleaning your neck, whimpering a little to say sorry for making you bleed, he flips you over without pulling out of you and starts up his thrusts again. Caging your head and arms underneath him, with his arms holding himself above you next to your head. It’s like he didn’t just cum and reck your whole head space as he begins fucking you again. You expected this, though. It’s never just one round, not even two!
He continues to fuck you over and over again, placing you in new positions that keep you surrounded by his body after each time he cums deep within your clenching walls. Not a single time he’ll speak, either. Only you moaning and crying out your pleasure can be heard aside from his occasional grunt as he finishes inside of you. But the faces he makes are enough to have your mind going dirty besides doing the act itself.
When you get a chance to see his face, it’s so sexy it makes you clench around him. His mouth will be wide open in bliss, and his eyes squeezed shut. It looks like he can’t take how good you feel, but he still chases the feeling every time. Wanting to make you cum just as much as he wants to cum.
He fucks you so many times that it gets to the point tonight that you lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and as he was placing you sideways to thrust into you again you felt yourself drift into unconsciousness.
———
Waking up was a start. The sun was blaring from outside the window, and you blink your eyes open to see it. Your body wasn’t sore since it’s gotten used to how rough he is on you over the months you’ve been here, and you look down to see his arms wrapped around your naked middle. You bite your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way you could get out of his hold without waking the softly snoring Jungkook behind you.
As you wiggle in his grasp, staring to remove yourself from him gently, you realize there was no way to get up without him noticing. And that was because he’s still inside you. Still hard too, which was unexpected. You turn slightly around to see the handsome wolfs face, looking innocent as ever as he sleeps.
Softly, you reach out and cup his cheek with your hand. Trying to coax him awake with a few rubs of your palm. Instead of waking up, though, he rubs his face into your hand like a puppy. Wanting you to continue what you’re doing even as he sleeps. You hold back your laughter as Jungkook begs for your rubs, but you drop your hand altogether.
Instead of waking up from the lack of rubs, his face starts trying to find where the amazing sensation went. It isn’t until his nose gets buried in your hair, him sniffing up a big whiff of your small and gripping you a little tighter in his grasp, that he blinks his eyes open.
He pulls his face out of your hair, looking down at you like he didn’t realize it was for a second, but then the corners of his mouth are switching up when he sees it’s you he’s holding.
“Goodmorning,” You whisper to him with a smile. He hums his own version of saying good morning, then he wraps his other arm around your middle and pulls you flush again him.
You cry out when his cock that’s still inside you impalas you deeper, and then he letting go you altogether when he hears your cry. He must of not noticed he was inside you until now, gently taking his slowly softening cock out of you, and he looks at you frantic when he thinks he hurt you. Hovering his hands above your arms and looking strained as he tries to push out the word, “Hurt?”
You swallow, pulling yourself together as the rough pain to your dry pussy lessens, and you shake your head and smile again at him. “Nope, just surprised me.”
He looks at you unconvinced, and because he doesn’t know what boundaries mean, he pulls your legs apart and inspects you himself.
“Jungkook!” You scream as you try to cover your core from him. He’s scene it plenty of times, but besides to aim his cock at you he’s never directly looked at it before. He still pulls your hands away from you, pinning them against your one leg as he pulls your legs wide apart. Your beat red in the face and chest now as he just stares at your core so closely. “S-stop it.”
He looks up at you, and his eyes say more then any words can. Matching with his pointed frown, his big doe eyes look up at you saddened. Even though he’s been rough with you many times in the past, using you every night for his own pleasure even if he coaxes your own in the process, he hates the thought of you hurt. That’s also why he hates you bleeding because blood means hurting, and hurting means pain, which should never involve itself with his mate.
Looking back down at you pussy, he slowly places a singular kiss onto your slit. You clench your eyes shut at the press of his lips on you. And then your full on grunting when you feel and hear him smell your pussy up close. You know it’s just him saying “I’m sorry I hurt you,” since you taught him kisses could help when someone is hurt, and the smelling is so he can check that you’re not bleeding. But out of all things, your pussy should not be getting kissed and smelt this way!
After a few more embarrassed wiggles from you, Jungkook finally clears that you’re okay and lets you go. You pout at the wolf that looks confused at why you’re upset, and you roll out of bed. As you start getting changed, you hear the cracking of bone behind you. Within seconds Jungkook is back in his wolf form, and pressing his snout against your clothed back.
You sigh, turning around and looking down at the wolf who’s staring up at you so apologetically, and you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah you stupid wolf.”
You pet him in between the ears, now seeing a smile on the wolfs face and you return a human smile of your own. One with a lot less drool. Then you head for the door, stopping when you realize the deer from last night is still on the ground from last night and look an accusing eye at the beast who brought it here. Jungkook crocks his wolf head at you, not understanding the look you’re sending him.
“Did you really just leave that thing on the floor?” He looks to where you’re pointing, and his ears perk up. Walking up to the fly swarming carcass, instead of throwing it away or putting it in the fridge, he starts to eat it whole.
You grimace as you watch him a second too long, never getting use to seeing that happen in front of you, and then you head out the cabin to start your day.
Your day usually consists of tending to the small garden behind the cabin. It’s nothing incredible, but enough that you won’t be eating dead deer or rabbit everyday. A few tomatoes and cucumbers that you were able to syphon from plants near by, and TaDa! Your own personal garden.
Besides this garden, you don’t usually stray too far from the cabin. For one, even though the monster that haunts these woods lives with you, you’re too scared to find out what else could be found lurking in these woods. And two, anytime you accidentally travel too far from it, weather it be just to walk around or to try and find more seeds to grow, a huffing wolf named Jungkook will come and coax you back to the cabin. There’s been times he’s legit dragged you by your shirt to get home, but that’s just because you were so close to finding new seeds and you didn’t want to leave yet.
You know it’s all out of protection—and maybe still out of fear that you may leave him—but he likes having you close by enough to smell you. His wolf nose being able to track anything from a mile away, so that’s how far around the cabin you’re allowed to go before he loses scent of you. Stopping your wondering just before your scent crosses over that mile mark.
Today, after you put the veggies inside the fridge, you take one of the books that Jungkook “found” for you and go walking into the woods to find a place for you to sit. Just before you cross the tree line, you see on the opposite side of the clearing you’re in that Jungkook is walking into the woods too. Probably to go on a hunt or scoot the area even.
You walk for about a minute into the woods before you find a rock and a tree you can sit, and lean against. Opening up your book, you frown when see the small pool of blood on the title page. You try to ignore how it most likely got there, and keep flipping pages until you find the first page.
It’s just when you get to chapter two, that you hear a twig snap close by. You grin at the knowledge that it’s most likely Jungkook, and call out, “Come to read with me, stupid wolf?”
“No, but I would definitely like to do more then just read with you.”
You gasp, jumping up from your spot and dropping your book on the ground in the process when you hear a human voice that’s most definitely not Jungkook’s. It’s a man with long brown hair, a beard thats unkept, and one of his eyes looks screwed shut from loss of sight.
Your body starts shaking immediately. Since you’ve got here, you haven’t seen a single human. You always thought no humans were stupid enough to wonder into these woods—unlike you, but you were lucky enough to be the monsters mate and not die. You know not a single person is going to be that lucky if they come across a hungry Jungkook. Or just him in general!
“I-I, what are you doing here?”
The man raises a fluffy eyebrow at you, and you continue to stare at him wide eyed. “I just thought I would wonder these woods that so many claims is haunted. I just didn’t think I would find myself such a sexy specimen like yourself in here too.”
You swallow thickly at his sultry words, backing up from him as he starts to move forward. “Tell me, girly. Why are you out here all by yourself?”
“I-I’m with my boyfriend.” Your referring to Jungkook, but if this man some how got past him there’s no way he can save you if this man tries something. You watched Jungkook go the opposite way of you, so you have no idea how long it would take for him to rescue you even if you scream.
The man looks both ways, stopping in his tracks with you. “Don’t see no boyfriend.” The closed lip smile on the man’s face disappears. “But I am hungry.”
You open your eyes wide, and clutch onto the skirt of your dress. You look all around the area your in, thinking up the best route to get away from this man. “I-I don’t have any food. So you should p-probably go looking somewhere else.”
The man laughs, showing his blackened teeth as he does, and then he looks at you with a pair of disgusting eyes that only mean one thing. “Oh, darling… that’s not what I’m hungry for.”
Right when his words register to you, you run as fast as you can in the direction of the cabin. Your not far from it, and you can only hope that maybe Jungkook stopped his travels early and came home. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you’re suddenly aware of what this chase of cat and mouse reminds you of. The difference between that day with Jungkook and you and right now is that you thought Jungnkook was going to eat you. While the disgusting and vile man behind you doesn’t want to actually eat you, but taint and ruin your body. Ruin your soul, even.
You push forward as you spot the clearing up ahead. Dodging tree branch’s and jumping over rocks. Just when you’re about to step foot into the clearing of the cabin, a heavy body pins you to the ground. You cry out as the man that was chasing yous heavy weight falls on top of you. Screaming once again when you feel a hard erection press against your ass through his jeans.
He’s not as big as Jungkook—not that that was your main concern—but just knowing it’s there and not Jungkook’s has you starting to cry already.
“Oh, shut the fuck up you whore!” The man above you yells. Maneuvering himself so he can pin your arms against your back with his knee, and you hear the start of him unbuckling his pants and belt.
You think your done for. That you’re about to be ruined beyond repair from the man above you, and never want to face Jungkook again. Even though Jungkook did the same to you once all those months ago, there was still pleasure for you being brought to the table. It wasn’t selfish, but a need for him to mate you. This man, on the other hand, won’t give a shit if you like it and wants to use you because your just there. Not because he loves you, or wants to hold you in his arms forever. Keeping you safe and making sure you’re never in pain.
This man wants to bring you pain, and you shut your eyes and cry out one last time before you think you’re about to be ruined forever. “Jungkook, help me!”
It happens so fast after that… but not what your thinking.
One second the man is pushing up your dress to reveal yourself to him, and the next he’s being ripped off of you. It doesn’t register to you that you’re no longer being pinned to the ground until you start to hear screaming, growling, and the sound of bones breaking. Breathing heavily against the ground, you stay completely still until the screams stop out of no where and the smell of blood is in the air.
You blink back your tears that are still falling, and on shaking arms you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Before you could be brave enough to stand up entirely, a hand is being pressed into your back. You jump away from the hand and turn around to see a bloodied face Jungkook crouching in front of you.
Although your eyes are being blurred with tears, you can see his extremely upset face as he takes in your form. You don’t waste any time. You leap into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He makes a ‘Uph’ sound and stubbles back, but he catches you nonetheless. He’s always there to catch you.
Jungkook buries his face into your neck to smell you, while your face is against his neck to cry into. He growls against your neck when his nose processes the now dead’s man smell on you. You let him scent mark you, and the whole times he’s keeping you strapped to him. Not letting go of you for a single second.
By the time he’s down scenting you, and your crying has simmered down a little, you pull your face out of his neck to face him. The same deep frown and saddened eyes look at you, and you know it’s because of what almost transpired a few moments ago.
He swallows, pushing out a, “Hurt…?” You open your mouth to say no, because even though it scared you the man didn’t hurt you exactly. But then Jungkook is pushing out more words, “Try. To… Hurt. You?”
Your lip wobbles, and you can’t speak. Feeling your chest crumble from knowing the answer to his question is not positive, and instead of you speaking you nod your head since it’s too hard to speak right now.
Jungkook’s upset frown turns into an expression you haven’t seen yet on him. You know what he looks when he’s happy (flick up of the corners of his mouth), and when he’s sad (deep frown and drooping eyes), but this is different… this Jungkook is angry.
His sharp wolf teeth extend from his gums, and the corners of his eyes wrinkle and twitch as he thinks about what that man would have done to you. If it wasn’t for Jungkook being back on his way to the cabin at that second, it would have been too late. The man’s smell didn’t even register to him when Jungkook did an air check to smell where you were. All he smelt was something dirty, and he registered that as the part of the woods you were in smelling weird.
Never again. Never again will he ignore weird smells around you, or think your alright even if something seems off. He’ll drop everything for you. Even if he really wants to go claw some more at the dead man’s body right now, he picks you up as you’re now, wrapped around his body, and starts carrying you in the direction of the cabin.
You keep your face against Jungkook’s shoulder the entire time. Not letting go even after he puts you on the bed. You don’t remember how you got here, or even him closing the door behind you, but once your in bed and safe you still don’t let him go of him. And Jungkook is okay with that.
He puts you against the wall, making sure your caged in between his body and the wall so nothing can harm you. Even if someone were to look inside the cabin right now, all they would see is Jungkook’s naked back and ass.
Trying to be a good mate, he hums what sounds like a lullaby as he runs his sharps nails up and down your clothed back. When you finally begin to relax, calmly pulling your arms off of him so they can be sandwiched in between the two of you, you whisper a quiet, “Thank you.”
Jungkook stops humming, and stops rubbing your back. Looking down at your shameful looking face with wide eyes.
“Why?” He asks.
“Why, thank you?” He nods his head pointedly. “For saving me.”
Jungkook won’t take that. He won’t take a thank you for this. Your his mate, and he wasn’t there to protect you. He doesn’t deserve your thank yous or even you at this point. Pulling your face out of his chest with his two hands, he stares into your eyes as he tries to communicate how he feels. “No. No, thank yous. Don’t… Deserve… Thank yous. Or… You.”
Now it’s your turn to look at him wide eyed. You grab onto his hands on your face and shake your head. “What are you talking about? Yes, you do. You deserve me because I’m your mate.”
Jungkook’s shakes his head. “Not enough.”
Your lips part, and you see the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes as his hands fall off your face. This is the first time he said something without breaking the words apart, and out of all things it was him saying he’s not enough for you. Well now, your not going to take that.
You grab onto his face, making him face you and feel a little pleased with yourself when you see a surprised look on his face. You pull his face forward and smash your lips against his. He’s surprised, at first, but then he’s groaning into your mouth and wrapping his arms around your middle again. You moan when you feel his length begin to grow against your thigh, moving it slightly to allow him some friction. He growls when you do that, and you detach your lips from his as you look at him determined to make him understand just how you feel about what he just said.
“You do deserve me, Jungkook. You deserve me because I’m your mate, and you’re mine. And I-… I love you so stop being stupid and just claim what’s yours already!”
Jungkook blinks, registers your words a couple times in his head, and repeats, “Mate?”
You roll your eyes and say, “Yes!”
“Love. Me?”
You swallow, taking a moment of hesitation but then replying again, “Yes.”
Then that’s all Jungkook needs to be convinced. He smashes his lips against yours the same way you did, and you’re moaning up a storm by the time he rolls you underneath him. You take your clothing off as fast as your arms can do it, and then Jungkook is thrusting into you the second your pussy is presented to him.
Both of you making noises of pleasure as he enters you, stretching and rubbing at your walls just the way you like it as he roughly pounds against your core. As always, Jungkook fucks you rough and hard, but right now you need it. You need it just as much as him, and when you both cum at the same time, you’re scratching at his back to go another round… and another… and another.
As always, you lose count of how many rounds you both did, but this time you’re both out of breathe by the time you both decide to stop. His cum is leaking from you because you’re so filled to the brim with his seed, and you revel in it. Feeling his cum drip on your leg, and feeling his soft lips peeper kiss your face as he sandwiches your body against his and the wall again.
You love it all! But most importantly, you love your mate.
And he loves you more than you could ever comprehend.
-
-
-
The End
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crxss01 · 9 months
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hello!! may i request reader and e42 miles watching a horror movie together
— Night Of Terror
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ watching a scary during the night is bad, watching a scary movie with miles is worse.
warnings ✧˖ ° cursing, miles scaring you.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, cálmate: calm down, solo era una broma: it was just a joke/prank, todo esta bien, chiquita: everything is okay, little one.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i’m sorry for making you wait so long, but i hope this makes up for it! enjoy!
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"look behind you, dumb bitch!"
at this point you were yelling at the main character because she was acting stupid, even though you knew she was going to be the final girl because of plot armor.
"princesa, watch the movie." miles told you for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"i'am watching the movie." you complained.
"then stop talking."
you ignored him. "why are you following the sound!" you started hitting the bed from the anxiety you were feeling. "turn your ass back around and run the fuck out of there!"
"mami!"
"sorry," you apologized but then the girl acted up right on that moment. "don't go in there! stop!"
"mamita, please.." miles begged.
you didn't hear him, already lost watching the movie and you regretted picking that moment to really focus in it without your talking because a jump-scare scene happened, making you jump and pull the blankets up to cover your face.
miles started laughing at your reaction acting as if he didn’t flinch as well.
“you do know i saw that, right?” you raised an eyebrow.
“you didn’t see shit.”
you rolled your eyes, and went back to watching the movie. a couple of times you would speak and miles would tell you to shut up.
that irritated you, but you sat quietly for a few minutes just watching the movie until your bladder felt like it was going to explode.
"ok, pause it." you told miles, standing up. "bathroom break."
"it just got to the good part." miles groaned.
"pause it, miles." you warned him. "and you're coming with me."
miles paused the movie and glared at you. "i ain't going with you, man up."
"what happened to me being your princess?" you questioned.
miles rolled his eyes. "fine, i'll go with you. but only because i love you too much to stay mad for long."
"why would you even be mad for? i just spoke a couple of times."
"exactly, mami." miles stood up, walking in the direction of the bathroom with you. "it's so annoying."
“you get annoyed so easily.” you shook your head and walked inside the bathroom then turned to miles. “wait right there, don’t leave me alone.”
“ok, ma.”
you closed the door, leaving it six inches ajar and wen to the toilet to do your business. after doing so you washed your hands and dried them before going to open the door only to not find miles there.
“bonito, are you serious?” you groaned, thinking he went back to the bedroom.
you made your way to the bedroom, ready to beat up miles for leaving you alone in the bathroom. “miles gonzalo morales, you little piece of—” you started to say when you opened the door only to see he wasn’t there. “miles?” you called out and even turned on the lights to check if he was under the bed or something.
“miles?” you went to the living room, looking everywhere including the kitchen but there wasn’t a sight of miles. “you better show yourself right now!”
you started to think he might have left for some prowler business after a few minutes went by.
“really, miles…” you sighed.
“mami!” you heard his voice called out, but he sounded like he was in pain.
you immediately dashed to the kitchen where his voice had come from. there he was in his prowler suit, his stomach covered in blood and his mask off.
“what the hell happened?!” you asked, kneeling beside him.
“i was— i was attacked.” he started to say, heavy breathing and voice breaking.
“by who?” you started to freak out the longer you saw the blood staining his suit.
“it was… it was..” he couldn’t even speak.
“i’m calling an ambulance.” you went to stand up but then remembered the reason why he was in this state and kneeled back down. “no ambulance, right.”
your hands were shaking as you put pressure where you thought the wound was.
“who did it?” you asked him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
“it was…” miles sighed.
“stay with me, okay?” you encouraged. “keep talking.”
“it was… la llorona.” miles bursted out laughing.
you sat there in disbelief as you watched the boy you were just worrying about, laugh like a hyena.
“wait,” you put both hand up standing up. “that’s fake?” you pointed at his stomach.
“of course, mami.” miles chuckled, wiping the corners of his eyes as he stood up as well. “as if someone could ever hurt me that much.”
the anger started to build up inside of you and you started hitting miles, yelling and cursing at him for making you worry. angry tears also fell from your eyes and you couldn’t help it because why would he scare you like that when he knew how much you worried about his prowler life.
“cálmate, princesa.” he said, grabbing your fists in his hands. “solo era una broma.”
“you scared me, miles.” you buried your head in his chest.
“i’m sorry, mami.” he apologized. “i’ll never do something like that again, i promise.” he kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.
“never, okay?” you reminded, voice muffled by his chest.
“todo está bien, chiquita.” miles said.
after a moment the tears stopped along with the shaking and miles spoke again. “you want to get back to watching the movie?”
“no.”
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @banqnaz @missusmorales @kamisama1kiss @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @dxille @miguelslefteyebrow @axeoverblade @iheartcats34 (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
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Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 2,212
Warnings | +18, Yandere , MC has devouring thoughts, Stockholm syndrome, smut, intense blowjob, manipulation, Jungkook is obsessed with her, she now thinks only of him
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This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.
If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.
She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.
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➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the seventh chapter of Happy Ending, the next one will be the last, but fear not, I have a surprise for you ❤
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Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie
Taglist is open!
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Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End
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It was Jungkook, Y/N would have recognized the sound of his boots from miles away, she sensed the footsteps stop right in front of her door, her wide eyes waited, she wished Jungkook would enter the room, but that did not happen, to her disappointment the footsteps continued far beyond her room, and ended up inside Jungkook's master bedroom. The same room she should have shared with the boy long ago now. A worm took possession of her mind, undecided whether to listen to him or not, she waited ten minutes, then twenty, then half an hour, until she jerked up, jerking the covers away from herself. "That's enough, he was the one who wanted me here, he can't behave like this," she thought, coming barefoot into the hallway. She walked slowly on the carpet, looking for any excuse that would allow her to run back and return to her room, but she found no good excuse and finally found herself already in front of the boy's bedroom. She took a breath before lowering the brass doorknob, fortunately for her it did not creak and allowed her to enter in complete and deafening silence. The kidnapping was long forgotten in the girl's head; she would take her place in Jungkook's bed, even if it meant killing any other woman with her own hands.
She closed the door behind her and began to make her way to the vacant seat on the left side, Jungkook seemed to be sleeping soundly and consequently gained more self-confidence, slipped under the soft sheets and settled there. Now accustomed to the darkness, she scrutinized the sleeping face of the young man in every detail, the closed eyes gave an innocent air to the beautifully drawn face, the distended forehead had a few unruly strands on it, and only the lips were softly rippled in a pout that the girl found adorable. She licked her lips, feeling a desire to taste the boy's, so she got closer, so close that she could breathe the same air as Jungkook. With bright irises she descended to his pouty lips, where shortly afterwards she deposited hers in a very light, velvety caress. She found herself falling in love once more, now that she looked at him with different eyes even that small, chaste kiss pleased her, wishing she could give him another, and she did.
A dark and increasingly thirsty flower had finally bloomed, with gnarled roots firmly planted in her heart.
The girl did not know it, but Jungkook had been awake the whole time, silently accepting those attentions that gave him the proof he was looking for. He pretended that he was still in his sleep, stretched his arms out in the direction of the girl, who stiffened when she was enveloped by the boy, who held her loosely on his cozy chest, she feared that she had woken him up, but the boy gave no other sign, under Jungkook's warm breath and enveloped in his warmth, Y/N fell asleep, finally more serene.
The next morning Jungkook woke up pleasantly rested, he noticed after a few seconds the strange cluster of legs and arms crossed with his better half. Y/N was still sleeping, and this time it was his turn to study her relaxed and heedless face. He licked his lips, still feeling the young woman's lips joining his in chaste kisses, which had the effect of making them tingle, and thinking about it for a few seconds, Jungkook found it fitting to return the favor. He crawled slightly lower, coming up to the level of Y/N's face, and slowly teased her lips with his, feeling their softness before resting them completely, in a tender kiss that was soon followed by another, and another. Y/N's eyelids trembled slightly, before opening and fluttering a little to get used to the sunlight, astounded by the pressure she felt at her lips, she widened her eyes when she realized that Jungkook was kissing her, one of his strong hands was gripping her side, another was holding her head, and closing her eyes she let him.
"Good morning," he said, after giving her one last kiss, and at that point Y/N stared at him wordlessly, it had been a long time since she had heard his smooth, light voice, now arched with sleep, she felt her stomach squirm in butterflies. "G-Good morning to you," she replied, embarrassed. She tried to flinch, untangling their perfectly joined legs, but Jungkook would not let her. "Um... I should go to the bathroom," mumbled the girl. "Is it the truth or do you just want to run away?" That question froze Y/N, who turned her head away, Jungkook forced her to look at him. "You are in my bed and I did not force you...did you miss me, my love?" Those words were enough to break the levees, the girl burst into tears catching Jungkook unprepared, he lifted himself up so he could hold her better, stroking her hair. "Ah, so that's it, is it? My little girl needed company, my own?"
Y/N wrinkled her own face on Jungkook's smooth skin, soaking his neck with tears that made the boy smile sadistically, Taehyung was right, now his tender little flower depended entirely on the shade of the big tree not to burn under the sun's rays. "Why haven't you spoken to me these days?" she sobbed, "Not even a glance." Jungkook inhaled her sweet scent, "I did it for your needs, you didn't want me around, am I right?" he feigned a naiveté in his tone that did not belong to him, the young woman shook her head. "I-I thought you didn't want me around anymore, that you were spending time with another woman," her voice cracked on the last word, laying bare all her fears. Jungkook moved away just enough to take her face between his palms, wiped a scarlet cheek with his thumb and stared straight into her watery eyes, "Another woman?" he asked with an ever-widening smile, he had expected an increasing demand for attention, but he had not counted that jealousy would arise as well, he thought it was still too early, but he had to think again. Y/N was really perfect for him.
He kissed her with transport, licking away the salty tears that slid down the girl's face and immediately demanding access to her mouth, which she gladly allowed. Y/N accepted that kiss like a drug addict, let Jungkook settle between her legs and gave him permission to plunder her mouth as he saw fit, enjoying the softness of his hair that she squeezed between her fingers, causing the man to shudder as he pushed his chest against the girl's tender and modestly covered one. "How could I spend time with another woman, when in my thoughts only you exist?" he left a trail of wet kisses on the girl's jaw, following that line up to her neck, which he took care to mark with small bites and light suctions. "I didn't know what else to think," the woman sighed as she closed her eyelids, arching against his lips, which rubbed against her covered breasts. "Do you want to be mine forever?" he took a nipple into his mouth, moistening her blouse as well, "Do you want me, Y/N?" he asked with a bite more voracious than the previous ones. The girl had long forgotten all her fears and warnings not to give in, not to let him go that far. In her mind there was now only Jungkook. It was with a groan that she responded, sending the boy's brain into a frenzy as he pressed one of her thighs against his hip, pressing his boxer-covered hardness directly against the young girl's heated intimacy concealed by her panties.
"Yes! I want to be yours… I want you," she huffed in a whisper, Jungkook lifted his deep dark eyes to hers. "Why don't you show me, Y/N?" he asked in a voice full of desire. Y/N squared him with confusion, what did he mean? "I… what?" Jungkook's eyes shone with something the girl could not quite define. Jungkook took one of her hands, bringing it slowly between their bodies, Y/N flushed when her palm came in contact with his throbbing, stiff erection, she went into a daze, beginning to shake her head. "I've never done that, I don't know how..." she swallowed, unable to finish the sentence. Jungkook stole a kiss from her, "I'll teach you, that's what I'm here for, love," he whispered on her lips, gently accompanying her hand inside his boxers.
Y/N let herself be guided with curiosity, she had never had the opportunity to touch a man really, she had always had to settle for the racy videos, but this was on a whole other level. She touched surprised something very velvety but at the same time hard, Jungkook lifted himself up by removing his underwear completely to allow her more maneuvering and the girl's eyes widened, it was huge. The pinkish, shiny tip already had moist, pearly drops on the slit, drops that the boy pushed all over the rest of his veiny cock, holding just long enough to give each other a few strokes, "You have to do this, love, can you do it?" he asked affectionately, the girl nodded, enraptured by his movements. Her eyes did not detach for a moment from the glorious length, which made her clitoris quiver and throb, she got down on her knees on the bed and carefully and gently took his cock in her hands, it was heavy and thick, she began her tentative strokes all along his erection, finding the sensation pleasurable, as Jungkook's cock became moistened with the clear liquid, Y/N felt more and more proud and aroused, the boy's low, hoarse moans soon invaded the room, as did the sound of his hips pushing against her hand desperately.
She tightened her legs, trying to satisfy the continuous pleasurable throbbing of her intimacy, not without effort. Jungkook, on the other hand, was in heaven, he continued to thrust between Y/N's hands, tense and captive to a pleasure that started from his lower abdomen and spread throughout his body, with a firmer grip of the girl a small scream choked in his throat. God, she was driving him crazy. "Baby, concentrate on the tip," he moaned, collapsing lying on the bed, trembling at the fulfilled request, Y/N ran her thumb several times over the slit from which more and more precum was leaking. "Do you like it?" she asked with heavy breathing, Jungkook lost himself in those tremendously innocent eyes and a rush stronger than the others invaded him. "Do I like it?" laughed Jungkook breathlessly, "Fuck, I want to come in your mouth," he sighed without thinking. Y/N thought about it for a while, observed the increasingly swollen and hard cock, it had taken on a more scarlet and forbidden coloration, she found herself licking her lips. She could try it.
She lowered herself onto the tip, experimentally licking that sensitive and erogenous area, Jungkook's eyes widened, stiffening. Y/N continued to collect in her mouth the small beads of cum that his cock released with each stroke, it was not bad, only slightly salty and she decided to dare more, went down slightly on the length, encompassing a few more inches and sucked, careful not to touch that delicate skin with the tip of her teeth, Jungkook watched in shock as the girl began to move down and up on his cock with her mouth, his pelvis began to move reflexively, desperate for an orgasm, so it was that the girl had to fight to follow the boy's much faster pace, trying not to choke.
She licked his length over and over again, often concentrating on a very sensitive area just below the tip, lulled by the boy's increasingly lustful moans, she even helped herself with her hand where she could not reach. Suddenly a jet of cum hit her directly in the throat, she tried to take deep breaths with her nose so as not to run out of oxygen, but Jungkook grabbed her by the hair, quickly pushing between her soft lips that teased the now sensitive skin even more, Jungkook finished cumming through clenched teeth, holding his breath himself, stricken by a pleasure he could not remember ever feeling. He finally let loose Y/N, who rose up with bated breath, swallowed the last traces of cum on her tongue, and fell wearily into the exhausted sheets. She was tired, but the sight of Jungkook overwrought and sweating with one arm covering his glazed eyes filled her with joy, then everything slowly went black.
The boy turned toward her, he watched her slowly close her eyes, then fall asleep, tired and tried from that blowjob that Jungkook would never forget. He got up with no small effort, his legs were still trembling under the weight of his orgasm, but that did not stop him from taking his sweet and good girl in his arms, carrying her back to the soft pillows, and then covering her with the sheet, she deserved a few more hours of rest, he thought, placing a kiss on her forehead.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
Text
Becoming Phantom - Clone^2 (and by extension, clone danny)
I said I would make it, and so i did! Here's a little ficlet of how danny became Phantom - the human ghost-fighting vigilante in the clone^2 and clone Danny au. Since this does include themes of dissection/vivisection, i'll put in a minor trigger warning list down below.
TW: experimentation - implied torture and vivisection/dissection of ghosts TW: Non-graphic mentions of injuries and blood
TLDR: Danny's parents have been catching ghosts ever since the portal was opened after Danny's lab accident. Danny knows this because he can hear them screaming from the basement. After finally telling his friends about it, he resolves to free the ghosts - and he does. He ends up having a conversation with one of the ghosts, and comes to the decision that he will catch ghosts before his parents do to prevent this kind of harm from happening again.
word count check: 4.9k
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His parents caught another ghost.
Danny can tell because he can hear their screaming from the kitchen, even with the doors closed. It's horrific - the voice is doubled over itself like something out of one of Sam's demonic horror movies, and Danny's heart races like he's run a mile at the sound.
It warps and twists, and almost sounds like its saying 'please.'
He rubs his chest uncomfortably, and pushes his breakfast away from him. His appetite lost and his stomach churning with a deep sense of dread.
Across the table, Jazz notices, and her eyes narrow dangerously at his hand gripping his shirt - right over his heart. He just got out of the hospital last month, and he knows what she's thinking - they don't want to have to send him back.
"I'm fine." He blurts out immediately, dropping his hand. He's not fine, but it's because he feels ill as the lights above flicker and another terrified shriek echoes through the floorboards. He swallows, ill. "I- it's just-" his eyes flick to the door to the lab. "the lab."
Jazz's lips press into thin line, and she pushes her chair back and stands up. "I hate that they're doing this," she says, stomping towards the lab. "It's inhumane, Danny. They're people too, even if they don't look like us!"
Before the portal, Danny might've just shrugged his shoulders and not said anything. He never really cared about his parents' ghost hunting stuff, but figured that since they knew more about it, their rants about them being unfeeling were correct.
Now, though? When he's been woken up in the middle of the night by the house rattling and his ears ringing with the pained cries of one of the ghosts' in the basement? His heart beating so fast he thinks he's been transported back to the lab a month ago, lying on the floor after being electrocuted by the portal?
He's really not so sure anymore. And he thinks he's starting to agree with Jazz. This isn't right. He doesn't think so, at least.
An unsure 'hm' comes out of his throat, eyes tracking Jazz as she swings the heavy metal door open and breathes in deep. "HEY!" She yells, her voice miraculously sounding out over the ghost screaming. The screams stop. "MOM! DAD! CUT THAT OUT, YOU'RE SCARING DANNY!"
There's no sound, and Danny sighs a breath of relief. Not that it does much to slow his anxious heart, the shrieks are burned into his ears, and he's already thinking about leaving now rather than later. He can meet Tucker at his house.
His parents - his mom, actually - appears at the entrance to the lab, her hands drip bright, ectoplasm green, and there's splatters of it across the front of her suit and goggles like blood. Danny feels white in the face, and Jazz looks enraged.
Mom pulls off her goggles, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your father and I just got carried away, we caught this one just this morning by the park." She says, as if that makes it any better. Danny's eyes are glued to the ectoplasm dripping onto the floor. "We'll wait until you get to school."
Danny wishes they wouldn't do this at all. But he just nods mutely, unable to make his lead-heavy tongue do anything. Jazz speaks for him, and whirls on mom like a tornado about to break loose. "At school? This shouldn't be happening at all - it's wrong, mom!"
Jazz has been the only one vocal about this whole thing ever since mom and dad came home with a ghost trapped in one of their nets - their thermos wasn't working - while Danny was on sick leave after he got out of the hospital. Danny still remembers the utter shock he was in after mom and dad came in dragging it behind them.
The ghost looked like a grown woman, but it - she - had the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen, and ice-like skin. She'd been thrashing in the net, saying something in a hissy, whispering language that made static build behind his eyes. It had surprised him that he could somewhat make out what she was saying.
It had been fascinating. Up until the screaming started.
He watches Mom make a face that looks like endeared annoyance, and she turns to Jazz with a light sigh. "You're a kind girl, Jazz, but ghosts aren't human, sweetheart. We've told you this." And they have, multiple times. It's become a reoccurring argument.
"Does it matter?!" Jazz exclaims, her cheeks turning an inflamed red with indignancy. She looks appalled. "They're still in pain! You're hurting them!"
Danny silently nods, but they don't see. Jazz is glaring at mom with the burning anger of the sun and Mom just looks exasperated. "Your father and I know this already, Jazmine." Mom says, her arms crossing across her chest.
Jazz's mouth drops open.
Danny's almost does the same. The bone-chilling blood rush leaves him shivering, and his vision spots out in black, fuzzy dots for a few seconds. Maybe, he thinks, it's his heart stopping again with the cold horror.
They know this?
They know this?
And they're still doing it?
He thought he knew his parents - now he's second-guessing himself.
Jazz is just as much at a loss for words as Danny is. And then her expression shutters closed with a fury-kind of icy. "Danny," she says, still staring down their mom. "Go get your stuff, I'm driving you to school."
Normally, he hates how.. parent-y Jazz gets. She acts like a second mom, and like a helicopter one to boot. It drives him nuts on the worst of days. Right now though, he's already rising to his feet before he's even opening his mouth.
"Okay." He croaks, and beelines it up the stairs for his backpack. He doesn't look at mom when he comes back down, he doesn't think he can. He can see her still-dripping hands in the corner of his eye though.
------
"Man, you look like shit." Tucker says the moment Danny sits down in their homeroom class, he's frowning. Danny doesn't say anything to him, he just grunts and drops his head into his arms.
Sam, sitting behind Danny, leans across the aisle and smacks Tucker in the arm. He yelps in pain, and rubs the spot she hit with a glare. "He's right though," Sam says, leaning over his shoulder. "You looked like you were gonna yak over the front row when you walked in."
"It's good that you didn't," Tucker grumbles, "Dash would've killed you."
Danny, despite the shit morning, manages a smile and tilts his head so that his cheek is resting on his arm instead. "Mr. Lancer wouldn't've let him." Sam sniffs, and her fingers are in his hair already - it's been growing out for a while now. He meant to cut it but then the lab accident happened, and he was in the hospital, and then on sick leave, and -- long story short, he was growing it out.
Besides, Sam pulling it back for him was relaxing, and he feels the tension bleeding out of his shoulders already. His anxious heart slowing. "Yeah, he's been weirdly protective since the accident." He says. It was kinda nice, Dash was being forced to back off - finally, more than he was before.
"Probably because if you have a heart attack in class from Dash bullying you, he'll be liable." Tucker snorts, relaxing back into his chair. Up front, the three of them see Dash shoot them a glare from over his shoulder. He probably heard them -- and Tucker doesn't help by giving him an innocent, too-wide grin.
There's a tug, and Danny lifts his head slightly as Sam ties his hair back with whatever hairband she procured out of nowhere. And she says she's not a witch, honestly.
His smile falters, however, when Sam leans back around his shoulder with a frown still evident on her face. "Seriously though, what's up? You were really pale -- paler than normal, that is."
Danny doesn't really wanna tell them - he's kept the whole 'my parents are torturing ghosts' thing to himself ever since he first woke up to the house shaking. It wasn't any secret though that there were ghosts now actually 'infesting' Amity Park though, they'd been popping up ever since the portal turned on.
But Jazz says talking about things helps alleviate stress of what's burdening you, and Danny doesn't usually listen to her. She's his annoying older sister, of course he doesn't. But... this... wasn't really something he wanted to keep secret forever, either.
His teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he averts his eyes. It's like tearing off a band-aid, Danny, he thinks, just... blurt it out. "My parents are torturing ghosts in the basement." He says, only to immediately wince as both Sam and Tucker drop their jaws.
"What!?" They both yell in unison, and Danny ducks his head down as everyone else sitting around them turn their heads.
"Not so loud!" He hisses, peeking through his arms and glaring at the both of them. They both grimace, embarrassment dusting red across Sam's face and Tucker's darkening slightly, and duck their heads down towards him.
"Sorry, what!?" Tucker whispers back at him, his face all scrunched up in disbelief. Sam's redness has faded into pale horror and -- and yeah, yeah, Danny gets it. He feels that way too.
"They keep catching the ghosts and dissecting them." He whispers, and god, he feels sick just saying it. Tucker's face falls slack, and he looks about as ill as Danny feels. "I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I keep waking up to them screaming, and Jazz keeps getting into fights about it with them."
"Oh my god." Sam mutters, her hands pressing together and covering her mouth. Danny nods mutely, chewing on his lip.
"They know its hurting them." He adds, and its still dizzyingly terrifying to think about. He thought he knew his parents. He thought he knew them. He guesses that saying of people being multi-faceted was true. "They don't care."
Sam and Tucker both look green. Or as close to green as they can get. "That's- that's inhumane." Sam breathes, and Danny huffs sardonically - funny, that's what Jazz said this morning. That's what she keeps saying. "And there's really nothing you can do?"
"Not unless I go into the lab myself and release them," he mutters, hiding half his face in his arms. "And I haven't been back in there since I got electrocuted." His parents wouldn't allow it, and it's not like he he was chomping at the bits to go back inside anyways.
...Hm.
"I'm sorry, Danny." Tucker says, his voice low and horrified, "that's- that's awful."
Yeah. He knows.
--------
This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.
Where was Danny you ask? Sneaking down into the lab at sometime past midnight, long after his parents have gone to bed. It's been a week since he said, sarcastically, that the only thing he could do was release the ghosts in the lab, and it hasn't left his head.
Even though he was utterly terrified as he took slow, sneaky steps down the stairs. The thought had been keeping him up at night. He could do it. He could go down into the lab and let them go. He could do something.
It's not like his parents had put a lock on the door. He hadn't even thought about it - if he thought about it, he'd back out. So when he heard his parents go to sleep that night, he waited an hour before sneaking out.
Every sound felt so loud, and his heart had raced in his ears as he creaked open the door to the lab, and closed it behind him for good measure. And his hands were shaking as he reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the lab for the first time in two months.
And good god, did he almost regret it. There were ghosts in cages of all kinds, and ectoplasm seeping down onto the floor of their cages. They were clutching their chests, of which bled sluggishly through stitched up y-scars. They were moaning, and crying, curled up in the back like frightened animals. And there was a metal table in the center of a room that was stained green, green, green.
"Oh my god." He breathes, horror driving itself up into his throat with the churning of his gut. That's another thing he almost regrets - if only because half a dozen ghosts all snap their heads towards him, and it becomes pandemonium in an instant.
Rattling, yelling, crying, they're all screaming at him. Either to tell him to go away, to give them mercy, or to spew threats at him. It's in that same, hissy language that he's heard before. Whispery, echoing, and overlapping like multiple languages being played backwards and forwards at the same time. It gives him an immediate headache as his mind tries to comprehend and translate it.
Go away. Don't hurt us. Go away. I'll tear you apart. Leave. Leave. LEAVE.
It's all so much. Danny wants to throw himself up the stairs and back up to his room in a prey-driven instinct to flee, flee, flee. He doesn't. He covers his ears and digs his nails into his hair.
He yells. "I'M NOT LEAVING. BE QUIET!" and somehow, it silences everyone in an instant. He looks up, and everyone is staring at him, their multi-colored eyes burning into him.
Tentatively, he lowers his hands, they're shaking. He's still so scared. But courage isn't a lack of fear, its doing something despite it. He blinks back the terrified sting in his eyes, and twiddles with his hands. "I'm- I'm not here to hurt you." He stammers, "I promise. I'm not my parents."
It's silent for a long moment, and then there's an animalistic-like hiss from his left. He turns his head, and there's a ghost of a man curled up in a cage, staring him down with a thunderous look on his face. "Liar." He hisses, his voice warping in that hissy language. There are goat-like horns protruding from his head, and his eyes are yellow and slitted. He's dripping ectoplasm from his chest.
Danny swallows the bile in his throat.
And frowns. "I'm not lying." He says, and the ghost doesn't get hostile, much to his surprise. But there's a ripple of murmurs that spreads through the room like a wave at a ballgame. The ghost that spoke stares at him, then squints.
"You understand us, child?"
And - okay, Danny doesn't like the 'child' comment. He's fourteen for goodness sake, and he bristles silently like it's an insult, but he's no there to argue, he's here to help. So he swallows his pride and starts to walk towards the closed portal.
His legs are shaking, he's afraid they're gonna give out beneath him. The portal scares him, more than it did when he first saw it. But maybe that's because when he first saw it, he hadn't almost died from it.
His heart is pounding in his ears. Is it going to give out again, will he have to go to the hospital again? Despite his insistence that he's fine, Danny's heart hasn't beat right ever since the accident. He's checked. He spent an hour every night with his fingers pressed against the pulse point at his throat, at his wrist, terrified of the slow-beating he could feel thrumming against the skin.
Hearts aren't supposed to beat that slow - that much he knows. He's afraid he's going to drop dead if it drops any lower.
"Of course I do." He swallows, glancing back at the ghost. Everyone's eyes are on him, they burn into him, curious, wary, afraid. He's in front of the portal, in front of the keypad to open it. Shit, did dad put in a password? "Am I- am I not supposed to?"
He pauses to look at the ghost, and the man has moved to stare at him from a new angle in his cage - god he's gonna need to find the key. Mom and dad probably have it in their desk, right?
The ghost is silent. "...No. You're not." He says, and his head tilts to the side as Danny mentally translates in his head. he looks at Danny like he's trying to inspect him, like he's trying to look into him like his parents have looked into the ghost. "What is your name, child?"
"I'm not a child." He bites out, and immediately winces. Shit- he just said not to antagonize them. But the ghost doesn't look offended. In fact, he just grins a sharp, toothy grin like a shark, and raspy giggles and titters echo through the room.
...That's... probably a good sign. "Um," he continues, and turns his back to the keypad. Dad's birthday? He punches into the keys. "I'm- uh, Danny. Danny Fentom- Fanton- Fenton. My parents are- uh, the ones who took you guys." The keypad buzzes and the bar spots red. Wrong password. Dammit.
"Phantom." The ghost says, and the name crawls like a spider across the walls, sneaking up his spine and ringing in the air like the leftover taste of rain and thunder. the rest of the ghosts whisper it amongst themselves.
Danny shivers, it feels like a weight in his chest. It's Fenton, he thinks, but doesn't correct. He doesn't want to push his luck with the being that could tear him apart. "Uh, sure."
He punches in mom's birthday. Wrong. He puts in Jazz's. Wrong. "How come we haven't seen you down here, Phantom?" The ghost asks, and Danny shrugs helplessly. "You are the Danny that the unknown girl yells about?"
He tries his own birthday. Wrong. Fuck. What's the password? The tremor in his limbs worsens with his anxiety, and he tries to keep his breathing steady. What if he can't get this open? What if he can't get them out? He nearly forgets to answer the ghost, and licks his dry lips. "Um- yeah, that's me. The Danny guy." He says, turning to the cages again. "And uh, I don't come down here because my parents don't allow it."
The ghost, uh, goat-man? Tilts his head, there are whispers throughout the room that pick up. And Danny feels like the kid late to an all school assembly and now has to walk past the whole school to find a seat.
Goat-man smiles again, or bares his teeth? "You are the reason why the human doctors haven't cut into us more than they already have." And- that's- that's good? He thinks?
"That's- good, right? You- you don't want to be cut open, so it's good that I, uh, indirectly stopped it a few times?"
A round of titters goes through the room again. The man's grin widens inhumanly so, and Danny's heart spikes with fear. "Yes, it's a good thing, Phantom child." He says, "Why is it that your parents do not let you come down here?"
Danny stares, and swallows again, dry. The back of his neck tingles, and he tastes electricity on his tongue. "I had an accident down here, um, nearly two months ago." His eyes flick to the cable cord where the portal was plugged in, and his heart flutters with the images of green that got burned behind his eyes. He looks away. "The portal, it, ah, electrocuted me. I was in the hospital because it nearly killed me."
"It did kill you." The ghost says immediately, and terror fills up in Danny like water flooding a room. What? What? What? He was alive. His heart was beating, he was alive. "But only for a moment. You've been touched by death, Phantom."
That was so fucking ominous. And terrifying. And terrifyingly ominous. And also really horrifying. Danny does a swift pirouette and turns back to the keypad. Time to figure out the passcode and not think about that, ever again, actually.
"Wow." He rasps, his mind numb as he punches in a random code of numbers and gets a red screen. "How reassuring. Tell death I want a refund." He gets laughter again, and his shoulders scrunch up to his ears.
"It is the reason you can understand us, then." The ghost says behind him. "We are not speaking your language child - rather, you are speaking ours."
Again. Fucking ominous. Danny furrows his brows and stares hard at the keypad - if he was dad, and he wanted to put a password lock on his lifetime achievement in something that was easy to remember and equally important, what would it be?
Oh. Right.
He bites back a groan - how obvious. Danny's an idiot. Or maybe just so scared witless that his brain isn't working right. "Fudge." He grumbles, and punches it into the keypad. It dings green.
Of - fucking - course. Danny rolls his eyes.
He hears a hiss, and Danny rapidly scuttles back as the massive blast doors twisted open like something out of a scifi movie - he'd be geeking out if he wasn't aware of his own rapid heartbeat. Like a gun charging up, an unearthly green glow appears at the back of the tunnel an d then rapidly moves towards him, growing larger and larger.
Danny flinches, half-convinced its going to hit him. He was going to be vaporized, and he brings up his arms to protect himself. But nothing happens, and he peeks open an eye that he closed when the ghost from before murmurs for him to open them.
The portal is - is, well. Indescribable. It fills the dark room with its glow, swirling like a those weird, shimmering liquid dyes put into martini glasses in those aesthetic gifs on the internet. And the light it casts on the walls shimmers and moves like the aurora borealis.
Danny is speechless. It's... oddly beautiful. And terrifying. There's a whole new world in that dimension - if he steps through he won't be on earth anymore.
And... his parents wanted to eradicate the people on the other side of it?
He whirls on foot, his back to the portal - a thing that fills him with dread. his shaking - its worse. Danny almost thinks his feet will give out. "Do - do any of you know where mom and dad keep the keys to the cages?" He asks, but he's already stalking towards the desk on the other side of the room.
The people in the cages grow restless, and they've been silent for the most part - but with the portal open, and him going to find the keys, they'd begun to grow talkative. They were moving more in the cages, talking to each other, excitement filling the air with so much hope Danny could feel it resonating between his ribs.
A new voice, quiet and feminine, speaks up on the opposite side of the goat-man's cage. She's closer to the desk, and she has also been cut open. There are black tears staining her face, and her shock white hair floats like she's underwater. Immediately, on instinct, Danny's head supplies him with a word.
Banshee.
"In the bottom drawer, Phantom." She whispers, her voice lilting and melodic. Her pitch black eyes follow him across the room. "I've seen them put it there after putting us back into our cages."
He nods mutely, and again feels horrified by their treatment from his parents. His pace quickens to the desk, and just as the banshee woman said, there are keys in the bottom drawer sitting on top of a bunch of research papers that have a suspicious green stain on them.
Danny ignores the stain and grabs the keys, holding them up as he closes the drawer. When he turns back to the cages, all eyes are on him. "Um," he rasps, "I found the key." Who do I free first?
His eyes land on the banshee woman first, she's the closest to the desk. And in an arc he follows the lineup to the other side side of the room. He moves to the banshee woman's cage first, and she perks up as he kneels down to the door.
"I'll- I'll go in a circle, first." He announces, fingers fumbling with the key as he inserts it into the hole. The banshee woman had her fingers - clawed and knife-like, capable of tearing out his throat in an instant - around the bars of her confinement. She was staring at him intently.
He hesitates, and looks up. Her eyes are pitch black, he noticed this before, but this close its like its threatening to suck him in and send him swirling through a blackhole. "If- if I free you," he stammers, licking his lips, "will you attack me?"
The banshee woman bares her razor teeth at him, and reaches through the bars to touch his face. It takes all Danny's restraint not to flinch as her nails drag down his cheek softly. "No," she says, "you're freeing us, Phantom. We will not attack you."
Danny.. will just have to take her word for it. He nods, and with a sharp twist of his wrist unlocks the cage with one hand, and flings open the door with the other. In an instant, the banshee dives forward -- Danny thinks she's lunging at him, and flinches violently.
She goes through him instead, leaving him with a bone-deep chill and a heartbeat in his ears. He turns, and sees her dive through the portal like a swimmer diving into a pool.
There is silence throughout the room. And then everyone else begins to clamor once again, just like when Danny first walked in. Danny hurries to hush them - he said he was going around the room! He'll free them, but be quiet, or you'll wake his parents!
He rushes for the next cage, and one by one opens each and every cage. There are cheers, and thank yous, and cries of gratitude. He has to help the weaker ghosts out of their cage and limp them towards the portal. His shirt and hands are stained green with their blood.
(When he goes back up to his room later, he throws it off and throws it away. He can't stand the sight of it, and he scrubs his hands until they're raw.)
It's a lot for Danny to not burst into tears, or to throw up. Until finally he reaches goat-man's cage, and releases him. He is one of the ghosts too weak to fly on their own, and so Danny lets him lean against him and helps him to the portal.
"Will you be okay?" He asks once they are at the threshold, the portal hums softly this close to it. Almost like its trying to beckon Danny inside, like a siren song. Danny ignores it. "Will everyone else?"
"We will heal, Phantom." Goatman says, holding a hand to his chest. He looks tired, this close, and Danny can feel him looking at him, even without any pupils to show it. "Once back inside the Infinite Realms our bodies will heal on its own."
Danny nods silently, and his frown begins to wobble. The stress he's been under is finally starting to take its toll, and he is emotionally exhausted. There is still a lingering taste of fear in the air that doesn't belong to him - but the ghosts that have left. "I'm sorry." He croaks, his voice cracking. "I didn't - I didn't think you guys were human. I'm sorry."
The ghost's expression softens, but he still looks stern. "We aren't human." he says, and Danny frowns, confused. The ghost continues, and reaches out a long finger to tap against Danny's chest, where his heart is. "But do not think for a moment that humanity can be measured by the sound of a heartbeat, child. We are just as humane as you living can be, and we are just as sentient and sapient as you. Do not forget that, and you will not become your parents."
There's nothing for Danny to say to that, except nod once again. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, made of lead. "This will happen again," he continues, and his eyes prick, "they're gonna keep catching ghosts and bringing them down here." And hurting them.
Goatman nods curtly, and raises an eyebrow at Danny. "What will you do to stop them, Phantom?" He asks, "You could keep releasing them after they have been already caught, but that will not stop the pain they face under the hands of your parents."
He's right. He's right. And if Danny keeps releasing them afterwards, his parents will grow suspicious. They'll start sticking around trying to catch whoever is freeing the ghosts. And Danny doesn't want to face what will happen if his parents realize that he's the one freeing ghosts.
His eyes flicker rapidly around the room, trying to think of a solution - what could he do? What can he do?
His eyes land on the thermos sitting on the table.
"I... I could catch ghosts?" He says, unsure, and looks back to the ghost. He nods, beckoning for Danny to continue. "I can catch them in the thermos before my parents do, and then release them back to the Zone."
"That will work." The ghost says, "The thermos doesn't hurt to be in, it's merely cramped. Will you follow through on this?"
"Yes."
The ghost smiles at him a third and final time, his teeth glinting in the green portal light. "Then good luck, Danny Phantom."
He lets go, and disappears into the portal.
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madethisjusttobrowse · 10 months
Text
Gwen Stacy Falls For Spider-Man
Ok, so until the next movie, this is how it's going to go down in my head:
-Miles is being chased by the spider society who have caught everyone but Gwen.
-Lyla pops up and says there's a canon event about to happen and everyone confused on what to do and Miguel conflicted with stopping Miles and thus a canon event.
-Miles and Gwen are high up when Gwen gets shot (I haven't decided how and why). It looks alot like uncle Aaron getting shot.
-Gwen Stacy falls and Spider-man dives after her.
-Miles shoots a web at Gwen and the whole world flips like comic pages showing the hunderds of Gwen Stacy's deaths.
-The pages get interupted with a close up of Gwen's hand reaching up and weakly grabs Miles' web.
-Wide shot of Gwen dangling from the web with Miles literally running down the building towards her.
-Now the camera is at the bottom of the building with a small puddle of red.
-Gwen's legs briefly swing into view akin to a hanged man.
-Gwen is lowed down while Miles makes a rough landing and immediately goes to her side.
-"Gwen! No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."
-Gwen's eyes are barely open and she sputters out Miles' name.
-Miles moves her hand and uses his webs to completely stop the bleeding.
-Miles looks up and realizies Gwen has stopped breathing.
-"Please no, Gwen come on."
-Gwen is layed down flat on the ground and Miles puts his hands on top of each other on her chest.
-Gwen's body lurches once then twice as Miles uses his electricity powers.
-Gwen then coughs awakes and Miles triping over his tongue to ask if she's okay.
-Gwen's shoulder is in bad shape but she's alive.
-Miles then hugs Gwen and unlike all of those iconic poses of Spider-man hugging the body of someone he couldn't save, Gwen hugs him back.
-Miles couldn't do anything when his uncle got shot, his mom is a nurse, and it's been over a year later; no way is he not going to learn how to prevent that from happening again.
-Gwen knows it doesn't end well for Gwen Stacy, the haunted faces of the hunderds of Peter Parker's remind her she's a Ghost-spider. She knows the sickening crunch that's in every Spider-man's history.
-In that monent, both of them chose to learn from the past and not repeat history.
-Lyla then states that the canon event is complete.
-"But Gwen is still alive how can-"
-"Gwen Stacy falls in love with Spider-man and then she falls and dies. Umm that kinda all of happened. The canon event doesn't seem to include her staying dead though..."
-Realization, shock, and horror from the entire Spider society watching Gwen Stacy die again and finding out their canon events didn't have to tragic.
-End scene.
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Text
About Miguel taking the place of Gabriella's father -
BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE MILD MIGUEL -
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I know we say ooooohhhh Miguel is a psychopath, he's evil for taking her dads place. that's so creepy
and yeah, it is creepy. horror movie shit
But Question:
If you saw a child, a child belonging to another you, going through a deep pain, alone. Wouldn't you step in?
If you knew that a child was about to experience a traumatic event - and you were the only person in the universe with the ability to help.
Would you? Like you, personally. Or would you turn the other way and let fate take it's course?
Would you even have the strength to do that?
When Gwen lost her father in front of Jess, Jess felt like someone had to step in. WE felt like someone had to step in.
When Gabriella lost her father in front of Miguel - wouldn't he feel it too? Wouldn't you?
He did. He stepped in. And he tried to change it. And he killed her.
When Miguel and Jess are both faced with a young girl, on the verse of losing her father in an abrupt and traumatic way, they probably both thought the same -
'Someone has to do something. I have to do something.'
So with that in mind - can we imagine that Miguel felt that same way when looking at Gabriella? A girl who just lost her father abruptly? In a violent, permanent way?
Looking at her father and knowing that...eventually - Gabby is going to know something is wrong. Her father isn't coming home. And very soon - she's going to start getting scared.
Knowing that from this day forward her life will chance in a very big and very painful way.
Or it couldn't.
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Or, he could step in. Or, he could head 'home'. He can tuck Gabby in like nothing happened. She could go on like she lived everyday - normal, happy, safe, and with a dad that loves her. Nothing has to change. No funeral. No death anniversaries. No empty space. All he has to do is step in. Or, he can look the other way and let fate take it's course. And let Gabriella end up wherever the universe decides.
What would you do? Can you even decide that?
Look, Do I think what Miguel did was right - taking her father's place? I don't know. Does it matter? Either way - Gabriella suffered.
But do I think Miguel is a psychopath? Do I think he was obsessed, and scheming? No. I don't at all. I think he, like Jess, saw a kid in need. I think he's normal. He's Just Miguel. I think he was monitoring the universe for other Miguels, the same way they monitor all universes for anomalies or recruits. And when Lyla told him about the death - about Gabby - he was faced with a very hard decision -
I don't believe Miguel - at his baseline - is an intentionally malicious person. In any capacity.
I think he's a dude, like Jess - who saw a little girl in need. And now he's in way too deep, and people are dying, and he doesn't know how to stop it no matter how hard he tries and everything he does seems to make it even worse
And when he's trying - when he pulling out all the stops, finding all the best, watching universes day & night - nothing helps. Anomalies keep happening.
Even after all that, after making a whole society - he can't stop it. People are still dying.
And the moment he realizes this - the moment Miles breaks free and escapes. He realized once again - the universe is in control. He was never going to fix it. He never could.
All the efforts he put into The Society can't stop Spot - and they can't stop Miles.
And now, because Miguel isn't good enough to catch him, people are going to die, on his watch AGAIN.
Or..at least that's how Miguel sees it.
Miguel didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up to be a boss holding all of existence together with duct tape and silly string.
He signed up to be a dad. He just wanted to help a little girl.
And now people are dying, Gabriellas dead, People's universes are on the edge of collapse, and now Miles is coming into play, and he's gonna lose HIS dad and Hobie's finally gone AWOL knowing it was gonna come eventually -
And Yes, he snapped. (lol not in the cvnty way)
Between those moments he went from this -
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To this. The emotional deterioration is sudden. Everyone around him is stunned he's capable of this.
Does Miguel even know he's capable of this?
I don't know.
I just know this is us seeing a Miguel with reasoning - and a Miguel without it. A Miguel who is being conscious about what he's doing and the words he's picking, to a Miguel running on pure rage and fury and desperation alone.
There's no planning here. There's no stopping to think. He can't and he won't. He wants everyone in the field now.
This is Miguel not being normal. And he got to this point -
All because he wanted to help a little girl. The same way we wanted to help Gwen.
I don't think Miguel's story is about an unhinged man using trauma as an excuse to rule with an iron fist.
I don't think that's what this is. Miguel's story is the same as Jess story is the same as Peter's story.
He wanted to help this kid who needed him. And it backfired.
I think Miguel's story is a reminder that sometimes our help can hurt.
And I think his story is a reminder that Yes, even normal people can reach Miguel's level of rage.
Even normal people can be pushed to the point total powerlessness, of feeling like everything you do makes everything worse. To total desperation - just to make anything better some way, some how. To just get any sense of control back when you're on a ride you didn't ask for and can't get off of.
No - I don't think anybody would go mauling children, but I do think there is a point where it does get to much. When literally nothing in the universe is going how you want it to, and you're angry. At it, and everyone in it, anyone that goes along with it-
Anybody can snap.
At this point..I'm not trying to justify what he did - I never was.
I guess I'm just saying I admire Miguel and his character depth for making a very difficult choice. And I hope Gabriella enjoyed the time she had left with Miguel.
Not because he deserved it.
Because she didn't deserve anything that happened to her. She deserved a loving and happy dad. And I hope that's what he gave her. I hope she didn't have to know about all this terrible shit, or why her dad had to wear that watch ALL THE TIME now.
I hope Miguel did what he came to do in the time he had to do it and everything else sucks.
But back to the question.
You see a scared child about to lose their parents. Do you help them?
If that child was technically your child, if they looked like you and laughed like you, - if you knew no one else in the universe could make this better BUT YOU - would you help them? Or no? No judgement, I'm just curious. Because honestly...I don't know what I'd do. At the very least, I don't think Miguel malicious. I don't think he was scheming. In fact, maybe he didn't even think twice.
Who knows.
But looking back, I think everything - everything we see happen in ATSV - was solidified the moment he stepped into Gabriella's world. I don't think there was ever really a point where Miguel would be allowed to say 'I'm in over my head and I need out.'
He was never going to fix it. He never could. We know it. Maybe he knows it too.
But that doesn't mean he can stop trying.
Miguel was never gonna fix it. He was always bound to snap.
I guess what I'm saying is I feel bad for Miguel. Shoot me. Call it a brick and a hard place. But also don't maul kids.
I think he's just Miguel. And he's in way too deep, because he wanted to help. Some Mild Miguel. But anyway -
If you were Miguel: Would you have helped Gabriella?
BONUS QUESTION: If you knew you were going to be leaving behind an orphan child- and you knew your other self would love your child like their own and take your place without the kid enduring the pain - would you want them to step in, or no? Would you rather your kid know you're dead, and then let the system and proceedures play out as fate makes it?
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highvern · 5 months
Text
Peaches
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: weed mention, alcohol mention, mention of horror movies
Length: ~3.4k
Note: Drunk Goggles first time at the farmers market. this is prequel numero uno, predating Jealousy and Bite the Bullet by a month/month and a half?
Also dedicating this to the most fabulous readers who've been so incredibly sweet since i started this series! @mingyuonthemoon @tomodachiii and @lavendermins kisses to you all
read more here
[WEDNESDAY 11:49PM] MINGYU 🥔: Looked up that farmers market you mentioned MINGYU 🥔: You didn’t tell me it was HUGE YOU: i literally said it was the biggest one in the city but whatever YOU: im going this weekend if you wanna come! MINGYU 🥔: You sure? Don’t wanna impose YOU: i mean its a public event so my opinion doesnt matter MINGYU 🥔: You really know how to make someone feel special YOU: its a talent YOU: but seriously, you should come. you’ll love it. MINGYU 🥔: sounds good :) YOU: ill pick you up at your place around 7:30? MINGYU 🥔: like 7:30 AM YOU: any later and parking is a NIGHTMARE YOU: i promise its worth it!!! if not ill buy your coffee MINGYU 🥔: deal
Mingyu can’t decide if agreeing to go to the farmers market with you was a colossal mistake or a monumental blessing. Not because he’s been forced to wake up at the crack of dawn, or because he thinks he won’t like the market once he gets there, or even because he is stuck with you for the day. But because the way you look in a white sundress, hem gently brushing your knees with every step, one of the spaghetti straps brushing the curve of your shoulder, knocks the air out of his lungs. The frilly linen fabric sways around your figure as a gentle breeze sweeps through, ruffling your hair and the white ribbon you’ve pinned in it to hold some of the tendrils back.
When you picked him up he hadn’t paid attention to anything other than his own grumbling from the early morning sun. But now, as you walk a step in front of him and ook over your shoulder with a soft grin as you approach the entrance to the market, Mingyu’s heart squeezes. 
He knew you were attractive, he had eyes for Christ sake. Been privy to the plethora of guys who had been interested in you in college, including his own fraternity brothers that wanted Mingyu as their wingman. The knowledge you were pretty sat with Mingyu the same way he knew the sky was blue or water was wet, an unconscious truth no one had to tell him. But this morning, Mingyu finds himself smacked in the face with an awareness that makes his palms sweat.
And it only gets worse as the morning ticks away.
Your laughter tinkles like a jingle bell, his heart beating as if he ran miles and miles to hear it. While you both wait in line for coffee, you talk animatedly, hands thrown wide as you describe the layout of the market and almost knock into another customer, making Mingyu chuckle. When you turn around to apologize, the shy smile on your lips sends a hoard of butterflies through his stomach. 
He truly is no better than a kindergartener with a crush on his teacher the way his heart thumps wildly and his words stutter. Hands clammy, stomach in knots; staring moony eyed when a ray of sunlight illuminates your skin just so, providing a warm halo to make you look like an angel.
In an effort to preserve his sanity, Mingyu chalks it up to the natural response any warm blooded man would have to seeing a pretty girl wear a pretty dress. There’s no reason to think anything more of it. 
No reason to think anything more of the recent increase in your time spent together. Purely coincidence that Mingyu finally took DK up on the offer to attend the weekly trivia night you happened to be a regular at. The happy hour specials were good and so was the company of his friends. It didn’t matter that it was preceded by a movie night at his apartment a couple weeks ago, you both coincidentally sitting next to each other on the couch, breathing out snide comments about the horrible movie Jun suggested; or how you ended up staying well after everyone else left, insistent on helping Mingyu clean up, much his own chagrin. And even before that, when you ran into each other at a mutual friend's birthday party and ended up smoking a joint by the firepit in the backyard; unexpectedly chatting the entire night, clutching your stomachs from laughter.
You’re friends, you’ve been friends since high school, and now that you’re adults you simply appreciate the comfort and familiarity that comes from being such a long standing presence in one another’s life. 
Simple as that.
-
Approaching a table tended to by a man that looks old enough to be his grandpa, Mingyu takes note of the wine bottles and various preserves set up. Wednesday night you mentioned the market in reference to the fruit wine a couple sold, excitedly telling everyone about how you knew the answers to the bonus question because of your frequent chats with the wife that runs the stall. Mingyu realizes this must be the people you speak of with such fondness.
“I was wondering when you’d stop by, dear.” The older man at the booth smiled warmly at you, clearly familiar with your presence.
“Sorry it took me longer than usual, Mr. Jung!” You smile, returning the same warmth to the vendor as you nod towards Mingyu. “I was showing my friend around. He’s never been here before.” 
“Not to worry! I saved you a bottle of the peach wine you like just in case we ran out.”
“Did you really? Thank you!” You gush. “Mingyu hasn’t tried it before but I’ve told him all about it.”
Mr. Jung sets the aforementioned bottle on the table before turning around, “Since your boyfriend’s never had it, let me see if I still have any in the sample bottle!” 
“Oh! He’s not my—”
But your objection falls on deaf ears as Mr. Jung turns to dig in the cooler at the back of his booth.
Mingyu can’t help the way his eyes shoot to your face, noticing the warm pink glow tinting the apples of your cheeks that was absent a moment ago, your gaze looking anywhere but him as you shift your weight back and forth. Swallowing, Mingyu finds himself taking an over interest in the jars of jams and jellies that line the table; reading the labels fervently but not absorbing a word. 
Boyfriend. Mingyu thinks, turning the word over and over in his head. Huh.
Thankfully, the older man returns with a small cup of fizzy ocher wine quickly.
“Here you go, son.” He says, passing the cup to Mingyu. “My wife is the one who makes all of the wines! Peaches are her favorite so she spent extra time making sure it was just right.”
Taking a small sip, the saccharine flavor blooms across Mingyu’s tongue. The taste of alcohol barely whispers amongst the delicate notes of peach, honey, and something warm like cinnamon. He can see why you like it so much.
Finishing the cup, he smiles at your curious gaze. “That’s really good.”
“Isn’t it?” Your own grin splits your face as you turn back to Mr. Jung, “How much do I owe you for the bottle?” 
“Since you're one of my best customers, this one’s on the house.”
“Oh, I really can’t!” You object. 
Mingyu keeps smiling, watching as you shake your head to the kind gesture.
“Please, sweetie, it’s really no trouble. My wife told me how you wouldn’t take the bottle last week either but I’m much more stubborn. Do an old couple an honor and let them give you something for all the business you’ve brought us.”
The silent standoff between you and the elderly man would be comical if Mingyu wasn’t hyper aware of how soft your lower lip looks when set in a slight pout, or how the way you narrow your eyes draws attention to how full your lashes are. 
“If you insist.” you finally huff.
“I do,” Mr. Jung smiles, a hint of warm smugness at the way you fold to his request.
“But I’m paying for the jam.”
Your tone leaves no room for questioning as you pick up several jars including a few of the ones Mingyu had pretended to look at earlier. Mr. Jung just shakes his head as you hand over cash for your purchase, swiftly giving you back the extra bills you tried to sneak in for the wine.
“I’ll be back next week, and I’m buying a bottle.” You grumble but take the change.
“Alright dear.” He placates as you turn to leave.
Once you’re a few steps away he turns to Mingyu and whispers. “Young man you better take care of that one, she’s a real treat.”
“She is, isn't she?”
With your head turned the opposite direction, Mingyu doesn’t see the shy smile you're trying to stifle as you keep walking.
-
The rest of the afternoon is filled with bustling from stall to stall, your reusable bags bulging as they slowly fill to the top. Mingyu insists on carrying the heavier one, happy to lug around your finds while subtly showing off his muscles. It also gives him an excuse to watch unabashedly as you practically skip to and fro. 
A warm welcome greets you at several booths, many of the older ladies pointedly asking who your “handsome friend” is, and a few of the older men sizing Mingyu up like overprotective uncles. But Mingyu lets it roll off his back, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of the brain wondering why it doesn’t bother him that people are assuming you’re more than friends. Instead, he focuses on charming as many of them as possible, making conversation and asking them about their products.
Just as you open your mouth to comment on the vintage locket you pointed out to Mingyu, a fat raindrop falls from the sky to burst on your cheek. 
“Did you feel that?” You ask, looking at the swollen gray clouds rushing in to block the afternoon sun.
Glancing at the sky, Mingyu opens his mouth to say he hasn’t felt anything when a large bead peppers his own forehead, racing down to the tip of his nose.
A bone rattling crack of thunder is the only warning you receive as the skies open. 
The market descends into madness; vendors rushing to pull their exposed wares under the cover of flimsy tents threatening to fly away in the gusts of wind. Patrons searching for cover under trees or the outskirts of tents that provide a sliver of protection against the downpour flooding the streets.
You register the warmth of Mingyu’s hand encircling yours, tugging you under the awning of a business behind the rows of tents and tables. You manage to both squeeze into the small space, barely a few inches between your soaking bodies, shivering as the wind whips against you. 
“How far is the car?” Mingyu stutters, teeth chattering against the drop in temperature.
You can’t see beyond the wall of his chest that blocks you in, protecting you from the sheets of water falling from the sky and bouncing off the ground. 
“Ugh…like two-ish blocks.” You try to gauge your location but everything beyond the cover of the awning is a blur. “I think.”
Another ear splitting boom of thunder, tailed by a flash of lightning has you both jumping out your skin and into one another.
“Let’s see if we can wait it out.” Mingyu finally decides.
Five minutes pass with no sign the storm will move on. The sidewalk is flooded, swamping your shoes as it carries leafs and other debris to the storm grate. Several of the people hiding with you decided to brave the storm, quickly disappearing out of sight.
“Wanna run for it?” You ask, peeking up at Mingyu as you shake in your soaked dress.
“Okay.”
Taking a second to organize your belongings, Mingyu bounces on his toes to psych himself up. It's only two blocks but the intensity of the storm means you’ll practically be swimming to the car. When you’re settled, you give him a nod. Once, twice, and then he’s breaking into a sprint towards the parking deck. 
Your feet can barely keep up with his long legs, but you try your best; motivated by the warmth your car will provide and the spare blanket you keep in the trunk. Using an arm to shield your face, Mingyu’s silhouette is blurred as endless waves of water rain down from above. Each step kicks up the puddles at your feet but you can’t care, already saturated to the bone. 
Turning a corner, the entrance to the parking garage finally greets you.
Catching your breath under the cover of concrete and metal, you finally look at each other. Mingyu’s hair is flat against his head, rivulets of water trailing down his neck. His white t shirt essentially see through, the oversized fabric once dwarfing his frame now clinging to his chest and arms. Even his pants suction to his legs, the light blue denim saturated to dark navy. 
You squeal when Mingyu shakes his head vigorously to dispel the remaining water, not unlike a dog that just exited a bath.
“Gyu!” You yell, despite the fact that the few drops that fly your way aren’t going to do anymore than already has been done.
Your hair is plastered to your forehead and neck, tangled at the crown of your head from wind and rain. The once immaculate white linen dress now clutching your body, damp fabric dripping onto the cement where you stand. Sending a silent thank you to the universe that your underwear wasn’t visible, you waddle to your car to retrieve the blanket to dry off.
Storing your now soaked haul in the trunk, you take turns patting yourselves down with the soft worn quilt. The splat of water as you ring out your hair echoes through the nearly empty parking deck. 
Mingyu offers to drive back to your apartment, confident he can navigate the raging storm for the twenty minutes it’ll take. Unwilling to emerge from the cozy warmth of the blanket swaddled around your body, you eagerly agree and toss him the keys.
-
Unfortunately, driving back to your apartment takes nearly double what Mingyu expected. Sheets of rain force him to proceed slowly, the gray of the sky blending with the pavement to make everything indistinguishable as other cars navigate sluggishly. The wind has only worsened, bending trees as thunder shakes the ground and lightning splits the sky.
Mingyu assures you that he doesn’t mind waiting out the rest of the storm at your apartment. He’d rather spend an extra few hours at your home than worry about you driving back from his alone. 
Digging up an old hoodie and sweatpants belonging to a long forgotten ex for Mingyu to wear, you both get cozy on the couch; content to drown out the dreary weather with a movie. Mingyu suggests a horror movie much to your surprise but you indulge him, still feeling guilty that you hadn’t checked the weather before going out this morning.
After less than thirty minutes, the open bottle of peach wine is forgotten on the coffee table next to matching half full glasses. Two sets of eyes are shielded by the hem of the comforter spread across your laps, cowering against one another as the killer jumps across your screen once again to claim another victim.
With your heart pounding in your ears, you can’t think about the way Mingyu arm brushes yours or how his thigh is pressed snuggly against your own. How he’s using your back to shield his face, eyes squinted as he pops up over your shoulder when the movie calms for a second. Each movement sends his breath down the back of your neck, raising goosebumps you attribute to the terror flooding your system, the alternative even scarier than the film.
If he was of sound mind, Mingyu would realize his eyes can trace the tip of your nose down to your lips twisted in a wince as scream after scream pierces your ears. If he wasn’t two seconds from pissing his pants, he’d probably think about how alluring the plush flesh of your lower lip is, or how his nose is filled with the intoxicating scent of lavender shampoo and summer rain.
Another jump scare sends you both off the couch, your own screams echoing off one another.
“That’s it!” You quiver, diving for the remote to turn off the television.
“Oh my god.” Mingyu breaths, focusing on calming his frantic heart as his head tips back on the sofa.
“Why the fuck did you say we should watch that? You didn’t even open your eyes!”
“Jeonghan said it wasn’t that scary!”
Mouth comically wide and eyebrows furrowed, your face in complete disbelief.
“And you just… believed him?” 
“Fair point but hurtful.”
Scrubbing your face with your hand, you sigh. “Let’s just watch something else. My pick.”
“As long as it’s not another scary movie, I don’t care.”
Your choice turns out to be of little consequence. As the afternoon hours bleed into evening, you and Mingyu rattle on like two friends reconnecting after years apart. The bottle of peach wine long consumed, followed by another bottle as conversation flows with each glass. The storm hasn’t let up an inch, continuing to pound against your windows, wind howling through the trees. But the noise is merely a backing track, blending with the long forgotten film dolling on the screen.
“Oh my god!” Mingyu snorts, “I forgot it was Jihyo that had to jump in the fountain.”
You also smile in amusement, “Oh trust me, she wants to keep it that way. I always send her the video on her birthday.”
“Why? It’s not that bad, everyone swam in at least once when we were in college.”
“Speak for yourself!”
“That’s right,” Mingyu nods. “You just went streaking in front of fifty people.”
“It wasn’t fifty people!”
“Close enough!”
“Lest we forget you mooned an entire party freshman year?”
“That’s not fair! We had to!”
“Yeah yeah whatever you say.” You’re cut off by your own yawn.
Checking his phone Mingyu realizes it’s well past midnight, “Damn, it’s late.”
“Oh shit you’re right,”  Moving to the doors that lead to your small balcony you peek into the night, walls of water falling beyond the overhang from the floor above. “If you’re okay with it, you can stay here tonight. It’s worse than this afternoon.”
“Oof, you’re right.” The proximity of his voice startled you. You hadn’t realized Mingyu had moved so close, hovering a respectable distance away to look past you, into the darkness. “Only if you don’t mind!”
Instead of answering, you move to the spare linens housed in the closet hosting your washer and humming dryer filled with rain soaked clothes from earlier. The hoards of blankets on the couch should be enough but your own nights spent dozing on the plush sectional informed you that the fabric was quite itchy after a while. Snagging a pillow and a top sheet, you move back towards Mingyu before he promptly plucks them from your hands.
“I’ve got it.”
“You’re the guest!”
“Barely, we’ve known each other for what? Nine years now?” Mingyu shrugs. “Hardly counts anymore.”
Mingyu continues to brush off any attempt to help set up the couch. When he’s done, he plops down, fingers twining behind his head, displaying the bulky muscles that twist around his arms. His boyish smile and ruffled hair pull at your heartstrings. You simply toss the heaviest knit blanket you own on top of his splayed figure, relishing in the way the weight startled him as he fights to free himself.
“Night!” You call over your shoulder, unaware of the eyes full of curiosity following your retreat to your room.
With the lights out, Mingyu allows his mind to wonder. Boyfriend. he thinks again, staring at the popcorn ceiling above. In the years he’s known you, he can’t recall a time he thought about you romantically. Even the past few weeks you two had been hanging out; Mingyu thought he was seeking you out because he enjoyed your company, relishing in your humor and a shared history. But maybe there's another reason Mingyu hadn’t let himself accept.
Tonight, Mingyu’s dreams are filled with the sweet scent of peaches, soft linen dresses, and a distinct laugh that warms his blood. He tries to stop the girl tugging him along by his hand intertwined with hers, hoping to catch a glance of her face. It’s no use as she continues on, calling his name as she pulls him further and further towards whenever they were headed. He didn’t care much as long as she said his name again and kept her soft palm pressed to his.
And in the morning, when Mingyu wakes to you shuffling around the kitchen; eyes half open and face soft from sleep, padding to the coffee machine in a ratty old T-shirt with your hair a mess, he’s looking at you in an entirely new light.
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