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praeluxius · 24 days

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Blasé

part 4 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x kim minju (ex-iz*one) ft yujin, gaeul and rei of Ive

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

words: 9.15k - a lot of set-up in here for future parts, sorry

Blasé - indifferent

It’s a far cry from elegance—the way you’re both scooping up pieces of clothing from the ground.

"Trousers?" You’re scanning wall to wall, behind stools and tables until your eyes rest on the woman across the room. "Where did they go?"

Minju's got her hands at her waist, fitting her own trousers. “Over there.” She simply tilts her head in a direction of vague guidance.

Aside from the distant voice from the flickering television in the corner, showing scenes of the news, and the soft sounds of jazz music, there's an uneasy amount of silence for a bar in the mid-afternoon. Another knock at the door—Wonyoung must be getting impatient. No surprise.

You're pulling on your trousers as Minju slides her arms into her blazer, settling it onto her shoulders. As she brushes down her clothes, fixes her hair and steps over to her shoes, she has shifted back into the unassuming young woman you first set your eyes on. Not a trace of the indecency remains. Not even a slight indication that, despite the attempt she made to clean up with a few napkins, there's likely still your cum running from her cunt.

She has spent the past couple of minutes explaining how this will go—how you're going to sit back at the bar and Minju is going to re-open as if nothing happened. She didn't tell you exactly how she plans to deal with the Wonyoung problem, but, ‘just let me handle it’ is somehow enough for you.

You sit where it all started, joining your drink at the bar. The last remnants greet you in a sorry state of neglect. You do what you can to straighten up, a hand through your hair, a smoothing down of the wrinkles in your shirt, and a tug on the sleeves to straighten the cuffs. It is when you start to think you've got yourself somewhat under control that you realise just how bad you must look. There’s the undeniable sign that you can’t ignore—that rising tide of musk and sweat from your body and the discomfort it brings.

Another loud rattle of the door against the frame, vibrating across the hinges and into the metal fixings. A call of your name, but it's not quite how you think it should sound.

Minju flicks a series of locks on the door; three separate bolts—heavy-duty clunking metal. Finally, she drops the latch and unlocks the main lock. She has her hand on the handle of the door and she hesitates, looking over her shoulder to check on you once again. One last look.

Just smile.

She opens the door, standing in the opening, between you and the woman outside.

"Wonyo—" Minju begins. "Sorry, who are you?"

You twist in your seat and watch the scene unfold. You expect anger, an outpouring of venom from a woman so full of ego, arrogance, vanity, and maybe even jealousy.

Reality is far from the expectation.

The woman asks Minju if you're here, and while you're still racking your mind to work out who she is, Minju lets her in and, in a way, you're grateful for seeing her walk into the room and folding her umbrella.

"Gaeul?"

"Finally, I was a minute away from leaving. What were you—" She looks around the room, at the out-of-place stools, and then at you. She scrunches her nose and sniffs, confirming her suspicions through the scent of sex. "Oh."

She turns her eyes to Minju. Gaeul lingers, eyes fixed on the bartender's face.

"We... we were talking." Minju chuckles in amusement.

"With the door locked?" Gaeul is easy to read, even across the room, and you can see the genuine concern on her face. You hear it in her voice too. Suddenly, even being here feels wrong. Discomforting is the silence. Unnerving is the smile that stretches on Minju's face—a much prouder look than you're giving.

"Relax darling, we were just talking, and then…" Minju dismisses and Gaeul rolls her eyes.

"No, no. Please. Don't say another word," Gaeul waves her hands in front of her, a gesture of surrender. "I don't want to know the details."

"You sure you don't want to hear about how he just—?"

"No. Just no." Gaeul turns from the grinning woman and heads to you.

She struts in that same determined way she always does. Steady are her paces. Bag over her shoulder, short hair half-tied up and black jeans hugging her legs. As usual, she dons the casual grace that suits her so well.

“Bro, what the hell happened?”

“You seriously don’t know?” you answer the question with a question.

“You got called away. Wonyoung said she had somewhere to be and the rest of us were left waiting, but nothing ever happened. Then classes end and Wonyoung finally just tells me I could find you here.”

“I’m in a shit-storm, Gaeul.” You say, resigned to your seat.

Figuratively, of course. Though Gaeul looks like she’s been in one herself as she throws her rain-drenched raincoat over a stool. The one outside probably isn’t bad enough to require a name, but you know the one that you’re facing all too well. Storm Wonyoung.

You recount the abridged version for her. Of course, the details of you and Wonyoung and your benefits need little introduction. As for the rest, it’s difficult to explain the parts you still don’t understand, like how this all comes down and you and you alone. It takes two to fuck.

"You can't just hide in here from it all."

You laugh a little and say, "not hiding." An obvious lie, and Gaeul gives you a forced smile that says she's not convinced.

"You had us worried."

“Even Wonyoung?” you ask; it’s a test more than a question. You know the answer. You know that she doesn’t give a shit, but you want to see if Gaeul tries to sell the lie.

"Ha! That would be a first." Minju mocks with a scoff. She walks back to where you first found her, behind the bar, and she's still pulling and tugging at her shirt to get the fit back how she likes it.

"I’m sure she does," Gaeul says, with little confidence in her words. She sits herself down next to you and drops her bag off her shoulder and onto the bar.

"You’re still trying to convince yourself," Minju mutters with a shake of her head. "She really has you all around her little finger."

Gaeul is trying her best to ignore the interruptions. "Wony and Yujin—they can fix this."

"Yujin, huh? Now that's a new name." Minju interjects yet again, looking at you with eyes sharp enough to cut. She has her back to the shelf of alcohol, her arms folded under her chest. The more you think about it—the more the pieces seem to fall into place—the clearer it becomes that Yujin is the best friend who replaced Minju.

You scratch your ear. What a mess.

"Gaeul, there's no way the school let me back in."

"You don't know that."

Minju steps forward, a little closer. Her tongue dances across her lips as she readies herself to speak. "Oh, you think Wonyoung is going to get daddy's money and pay your way out of this mess? What's she going to tell her father? Hey daddy, please can you bribe the school to help this guy who's been fucking your princess silly? Seriously? She’s probably the one who got you kicked out in the first place."

That same laughter. That same mocking, belittling attitude that Minju had toward the idea of Wonyoung earlier. As if Minju sees nothing but weakness. Sure, Wonyoung has her fair share of faults, and sometimes she comes off too entitled, but right now, in this situation, her heart is actually in the right place. Or that's at least what Gaeul is saying.

“She would never do that! Wonyoung takes care of her friends and I’m sure she…” Gaeul gives up on her argument as Minju continues to laugh in the face of it.

Minju holds one elbow in the palm of the other hand and places her index finger on her cheek. She flicks it over to Gaeul and points. “Where are my manners? Drink?”

"Coffee, I guess."

"Come on, we're in a bar, let me pour you a—"

"No." Gaeul snaps. "All that stuff does is tear lives apart." An unexpected sternness in her tone—not one you’re accustomed to. There's a hardness that washes over her features—even her hair seems to have stood up a bit on end.

"Gaeul, it's just a drink—"

"That's how it starts and before you know it—" The door opens and a couple of men walk in, silencing her. They look to choose their seats and Gaeul seems to shrink into her stool.

"Alright. Coffee it is," Minju says before shifting her focus to you. "Anyway, Yujin—you fucking her too?"

"No." It's not a lie. Close call? Sure. Want to? Of course. Fucking her? No.

With Minju it just seems like if you give her any opportunity to fan the flames and she’s there. She’s the type to see you caught in a storm and perform a rain dance.

She laughs. She knows. It’s written on your face. "Of course not. Maybe she will let you one day." Minju laughs again and turns to pour out a coffee from the machine on the back of the bar.

Gaeul leans in close, making sure Minju can't hear you over the sounds of the coffee machine whirring to life. She whispers, "bro, what’s wrong with this girl? And how does she know Wonyoung?"

"High school or something. They go back. Way back."

Minju approaches you, drink in hand, and without a word, places the coffee in front of Gaeul. Her expression speaks a hundred mocking words, and she shows little remorse for how she only seems to have stirred the pot further. Her earlier words ring in your ears—how you should be more selfish and that there's more to life than Wonyoung and Yujin.

But here's the hitch.

The problem.

You can't shake the feeling that you really like those girls. No matter how complex their games get or how hard they play with your emotions. There's some innate charm about the two of them; a kind of charisma that not only attracts but holds. No matter how impossible their demands are, you keep on wanting more.

You're attracted to their sheer arrogance. Drawn by the magnetism of their utter assurance. Entranced at the depth and certainty of their convictions. And if Minju could read your thoughts right now, she would tell you just how stupid you sound.

As Minju walks away and towards her new patrons, sitting at the other end of the bar, you can only admire her.

Not just physically, but who she is. She doesn't care what other people think. She lives for herself.

"Bro, you gonna keep staring her down like that or you gonna talk to me?"

"Gaeul, I have to ask: why are you here?"

"To save you from doing something stupid. Though I might be too late." Gaeul throws a side-eye down the bar to Minju while she takes a drink.

"Don't take it out on her." You shrug. "She—"

"Hey, I get it, she's hot," Gaeul rests her cup back on the bar and brushes a hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "I could tell when I walked in. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together, but what I don’t understand is you. Do you just enjoy being used by anyone with a nice body?" Gaeul put her hand up between you, palm showing, stopping you from replying. “Actually, don't answer that. What I'm saying is, don't you want more?”

Gaeul takes another drink from her coffee, holding you in suspense. The truth is that you don't really have an answer and you're not in any state of mind right now to make one.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we girls talk. About love and relationships and sex and well... Just stop being so naïve, will you? If you get caught up playing the game, you're the one that's going to end up played." She picks the cup up again, cradling the warm mug between her fingers, wrapping her slender digits around it, squeezing gently. A long inhale follows as the aroma rises, the scent strong and enticing.

"I didn't ask for any of this." It's a defence so weak that you don't even support yourself. It's a hard denial of the fact that you have been used. Wonyoung has had you under her thumb from the start. And maybe you have gotten a little too comfortable under there.

"Listen, stop thinking with your cock for one day, bro. Tomorrow morning, go pick Yujin up from her house and take her out to get a dress for the party." She's talking fast, laying out a plan you weren't prepared for.

"She asked you earlier, remember, and don't worry, I already picked out a few that I know she will like. I'll text you the photos and what stores they're in. And for the love of god, just enjoy her company without trying to cum on her."

You shouldn’t feel insulted by that, but you do. These girls really share everything.

Gaeul continues her instructions, "and then you turn up at the party on time, take the opportunity to forget everything that's happened and have a fun evening with Yujin, okay?"

It sounds so logical that it's impossible not to follow—even if it's rarely ever that simple. You agree. A silent nod, but enough to assure her that her words have reached you.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

Gaeul places the coffee mug back down on the table, pushes it away, and turns to face you. "Please make sure you dress nice, too. None of this"—she motions to your clothes—"can make an appearance. Seriously.” She smiles to herself as she stands up from the stool.

"Did I hear something about a party?" Minju returns with a renewed smile.

Gaeul rolls her eyes and gives you a slight shake of her head. Her way of letting you know that she has already seen enough of the new addition to your life.

"I think I've spent enough time here already. You should probably get home, too.”

You glance toward your drink, and Gaeul rolls her eyes. She laid out the recipe to success so simply and left you in charge of your future.

She offers Minju no quarter, merely walking toward the door she came through without a word. And she gets none in return, Minju quickly forgetting she was ever here to spoil your fun.

Minju repeats her earlier question. "So, party? Tomorrow? Are you talking about Sakura's?" The name is somewhat familiar. The truth is that you don't know for certain whose party it is, or why it was happening, just a time and a place, but as Minju confirms the details with you, they match up. Not that you have ever met this girl in question, it's just another friend of Wonyoung's.

"I didn't plan to go, but if you're my chaperone, then I could be convinced." Minju's got a glint in her eye and a flirtatious lilt in her tone—the kind a girl pulls out when they're trying to tempt you into doing exactly what you know you shouldn't.

Gaeul told you just minutes ago to stop thinking with your cock and it’s easier said than done as Minju stares down at you with those eyes that look oh-so-pretty and the desire floods into you once again.

Still, there's some semblance of resistance in you. "It's not a good idea, for more reasons than I can even explain right now."

She stares at you in silence, smiling as she tries to understand, but her hands reach across and her slender fingers stretch over the top of yours. Fingers brushing over your knuckles and her thumb tucking under your palm.

"Don't ruin the fun," she replies. That spark. Flash. That temptation for more is so hard to resist. Gaeul’s words melt away.

"It's just that—"

"Think about the message it will send: I'll wear my sexiest dress and turn up arm-in-arm with you and Wonyoung will never know how close you were to being broken when you turned up here." It’s probably the worst message you could send, but it does sound exciting.

A momentary smile—lost to a sigh at the thought. "That's only going to stir up more trouble, Minju."

"All's fair in love and war. You ever heard of that? Your move.." She smiles at you—the sly, playful smile of someone who's in complete control, and is too willing to show it. Her hand tightens on yours and her eyes are unrelenting, and despite every sensible part of you warning yourself of her dangers, there's a spark that keeps growing inside that draws you back in.

"Are you really getting all proverbial with me right now?" You try to avoid giving her the answer she wants, but the girl is too smart to let you do that.

"Are you really avoiding giving me an answer? Well, it's too late now. We're going. You can come by and pick me up at seven?"

"Seven," you repeat. A resigned affirmation. "Here?"

"Not here, stupid. My apartment. I put my address in your phone notes."

"My phone?" You pat at your pockets, not feeling it anywhere.

"Here." She pulls it from her back pocket and throws you a gentle wink. "Don't forget about me now."

***

Luckily, it seems that news of your expulsion is still under wraps for now. Not only has no one from the class sent you a text about it, being their usual prying selves, but if the news had gone beyond the school and someone like Yujin's father had found out, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near his daughter.

Actually, everything today just feels so... normal. Even Yujin has avoided mentioning it while you have been out with her.

You're still out now, sitting on one of those chairs outside the changing rooms. You know the ones—placed there for a very specific set of people. The ones for the disgruntled boyfriends who hate this sort of thing and all it entails. With their various bags by their side full of clothes, jewellery and shoes.

That's a lot of guys anyway, but you—

"What do you think?" Yujin calls out as she pulls back the curtain and steps out into the hallway. "It looks nice, right?"

—aren't in their ranks today. You appreciate this ritual for what it is. There is no exasperation. No annoyance. Nothing but the simple delight of watching a beautiful woman twirl in front of you before her reflection.

"Looks great, Yujin," you answer with an honest smile.

She gives you another twirl, arms out, her slim and toned legs shown by the dress's thigh-length cut, her arms bare and the rest of her dress is tight fitting across her flat stomach and rounding her breasts. She's playing gently with the strap on her shoulder, adjusting it against her skin. With another turn and twist, the backless nature of the dress catches your eye.

"You say that about every dress I try."

"Well, they're all gorgeous. It's hard for me to pick one."

Her laughter is sweet and musical, and it hits your heart with a dull thumping, like a heavy drum being struck inside your chest. "You're not as much help as I hoped. What do you really think?"

Yujin drops a hand to her hip, planting it there and posing with a soft pout on her lips. She has her hair held back into a ponytail. "Tell me, am I sexy?" She punctuates the question with a shake of her hips. "Pretty? Cute? Tell me, do I look good enough to eat?"

"Eat?"

Yujin does that thing she always does; where when she finishes laughing after teasing you and she bites her tongue and it pokes through her lips. She drags the curtain back across, obscuring your view again, and you're left with nothing but the plain white corridor. That and the sounds of her carefully undressing on the other side of the draped fabric. You can imagine how she undid the zipper. How it opens from her lower back. The sound the fabric will make as it slides over her naked curves—

Fuck. Stop. Don't fantasise now. Not here.

You rock your head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. The white tiles aren't exactly exciting, but they are preferable to imagining anything Yujin is or isn't currently wearing.

"Can you believe it?" Yujin calls from behind the curtain, wrangling your attention back. "Nine whole days. No warning at all."

"Did I miss something?"

"My dad. He's gone for nine whole days this time. Only one day after momma has gone to visit my aunt. The house is weird without them. It's just me and the staff. It's cold and quiet. You should come over more." It's all so nonchalant for her to ask that. No mention of what happened the last time you were in her house. How you—

Yujin pulls the curtain and steps out. A new dress. It's hard to look away and even harder to look her in the eyes. This is an elegant red one, an alluring warm hue. The dress is cut high up on the thigh, close enough to the line of the panties you're actively not thinking about. Tight on her waist and a neckline that follows the collarbone and frames her neck and shoulders in soft fabric.

"Well?"

"Yes." It's the only word that comes to mind. She's the most beautiful thing. Your favourite image. She is like a perfect portrait, hung there just for your view.

"Yes what?" she asks.

"Yes to this dress. This is the one."

She pulls a look. One you're not exactly sure how to read. "And about coming over?"

"Um..." The old you would have leapt at the chance. Fuck, the current you wants to too, but you still haven't addressed the elephant in the room.

"What's going on with you?" Yujin quizzes. She knows you haven't been your usual self the whole day. Everything weighing on your mind, including a future where you quite literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring. You can feel it—have felt it—holding you back.

"Look..." You run a hand through your hair. "The school thing has been playing on my mind." It's half the truth.

"Is that it? It's only school."

"Yujin. It's my life. I don't have money or assurances or—"

"You have me." Yujin steps forward, looking down at you in your seat, smiling. "Right?"

You look at her all confused. How do you reply to that? What does she even mean by that?

"I've got your back, okay? Always," Yujin assures, her smile so calming and comforting and yet, her words leave something to be desired. "Trust me."

Yujin raises a delicate hand toward your cheek, hovering millimetres from touching, just close enough for you to feel her heat and her draw. For an agonising second, all is silent as the air hangs tense. Then the touch. The smoothness of fingers that have never worked a day in their life against your skin.

"I already called the school. Told them Daddy would cut his funding if they didn't brush it under the rug." It's all so easy for her. How casually she flaunts her money and influence. But as the fingers trace the edge of your jaw, graze across your cheeks and come to rest their pad beneath your chin, tilting your head upward and casting your vision toward the young woman's bright smile, you can’t help but pin your hopes on her.

There's this moment you're stuck in, staring at her smile and wishing you could kiss it. Her fingertips threaten to draw you in but just as you let them, she slips them off you and pulls herself back. "But—" Yujin says with a wink, "you owe me."

She takes three steps back, slipping back into the cubby of a changing room across from you.

Yujin turns to the mirror, admiring the dress, her fingers running flat against her stomach. Her arms trail up along her side and around, stroking and smoothing down the fabric. Her shoulders shift, tugging on the fabric and perfecting the fit as she always does. "You're right. This is the one. You have good taste."

Yujin reaches her hands behind her back, fingers reaching her upper back and to the fabric of the dress. You watch, breathing steadily, as her fingertips begin to work the zipper, sliding it downward ever-so-slowly, exposing an inch of skin, then another, and another…

She tilts her head and gives her hair a subtle shake, exposing the nape of her slender neck. With a gentle roll of her shoulders, the dress falls loose, slipping from the sharpness of her shoulders, and gathering up on her elbow and waist. Her back is bare to you, and when you can drag your eyes to the mirror, a lot more too. That's when you catch her gaze, looking back in the mirror, watching the effect she has as the dress falls further, fully from her arms and waist to the floor.

Now only her underwear hugs her hips, the soft lace of her panties a little sheer, framing her perfectly round ass. Her eyes are fixated on your own, her face almost twisted, so sadistically joyous, revelling in the sight of your torture. Yujin says nothing—how could she say a word to ruin this tension? A laugh slips through her lips, and then she reaches behind her for the curtain. Drawing an end to the act as she conceals herself behind the fabric.

“Take this," she calls through the curtain and you're still trying to settle back into reality when out pops her hand, the dress draped over it. "You still have my card, right? You can go pay."

You take the dress, not knowing how to reply.

Yujin continues, "meet you by the door."

***

"Did you two just—?"

"She's in the changing room, Rei. At the store."

"Oh." Rei sounds out of breath and fatigued, her words come heavy, laced with pants. "Fuck it. You can help me. You're the only person who answered."

"What's wrong Rei?" You're talking with your eyes fixed across the room, waiting to see Yujin emerge.

"What's the best excuse to get out of a guy's apartment?" Rei is hushed a little now.

"Wait. Are you in there right now?"

"In the bathroom, he can't hear me right now, but yeah. I need an out. This guy was texting me about how well he was going to fuck me and he blew in like a minute." There is some disgust in her tone, a clear sense of disillusion. "Dude ended up just watching me get off. Prick."

Trying to keep it on topic, and trying to not imagine Rei masturbating, you say, "family emergency is always a good one. Hang up. Walk back into the bedroom. Then I'll call you pretending to be your uncle."

"A sexy uncle or a creepy uncle?"

"Your choice?"

"I'd say you're more of a sexy uncle."

You try not to indulge her. "Rei. Go."

"Right."

She hangs up. And you give it a minute, counting back from sixty. You call her, and when she answers, you turn up your volume, which grabs the attention of a few people in the store. "Rei! Rei! Where are you?"

"Uncle? What's wrong? Calm down!" She even sounds slightly convincing.

"Your aunt. There's been an accident. You need to hurry." You're quieter now, and the eyes around you go back to whatever they were doing.

"Yes uncle. Right away! I'm on my way now." Then you barely hear her ad she's speaking to the mystery man in the room with her. "Sorry, I have to go. It's my uncle. My auntie... she..."

Wow. She even sounds so genuinely upset. There's probably even a fake tear in there somewhere. There's some more muffled conversation you can't make out, likely Rei's dropped the phone while she dresses. You can imagine it, even if you couldn't make out what's going on in the background. She's feigning a panic, apologising to the guy, quickly pulling on her panties while he's laid there all confused. She's grabbing a shirt, jeans, a coat, and then rushing out the door. All the while maintaining her worry.

"Uncle?" she calls down the phone after some sounds of commotion. "I'm on my way now." There's the sound of a door slamming in the background.

"Rei? You good?" you ask.

"I'm out now. Thank you. Ugh. At least one guy didn't let me down today. Why is it so hard to just get a good fuck?" She lets out the words with a sigh, her tone is annoyed, and the sound in the background has changed. Her steps. The outdoors. The sound of cars.

"Take it as a compliment. Maybe you're just too hot for him."

She laughs a little, "yeah or my pussy is too good. Some people aren't prepared for what my pussy can do." She laughs again, louder this time and it brings a chuckle from yourself.

"Got to go now, Rei. Text me when you're home," you tell her.

"Wait! Before you go, what are you doing in say... an hour?"

"You what now?"

"Come on." She whines in that exaggerated way she can't quite contain. "If you're not busy then..." She trails off and silence follows.

You're not even sure what to think. Not sure what to say. "Rei..."

"Just kidding. Thanks again." She speaks in a hurry and hangs up the phone quickly too, before you can even say goodbye. You bring the phone in front of you, to make sure the call ended. It did.

You look up from the screen just as Yujin appears across the store.

***

Yujin leads you through the mall as you trail just behind her, one arm draped in bags full of clothes worth more than triple the car you drove her here in.

"Trust me. If it's not in a cone, then it's just not right," Yujin insists. You're not sure how you've come down to arguing about the semantics of eating ice cream, but here you are.

"But what if it's in a glass and it has a wafer with it? It's the same taste. The same substance," you contend, trying to reason.

"That's a sundae and sundaes are a whole different thing altogether. Everyone knows that."

"Okay, so what's wrong with that, but in a plastic cup?"

"You mean in a disposable container with not much thought, nor flavour nor creativity?" She stops in place, turning to you and saying, "Ice cream is an experience." She raises her hand to her head, grabbing at it and feigning frustration.

"So, glass okay, cone okay, plastic cup, not okay? Even if it's the same ice cream in all three?"

"Exactly." That's her reasoning, for leading you all the way to the other side of the mall, to the place that puts ice cream in a cone, and not in a little tub.

You hold your tongue for a minute and follow. Waiting for that perfect moment to throw your next question out there. You're slipping through the crowds of people, cutting around groups as they browse and peruse the items on display at the front of each store, and occasionally avoiding the people mindlessly walking on their phones.

Yujin is looking ahead and she doesn't see it coming. Two kids running right across her path. You quickly reach for her arm and pull her out of the way just in time to avoid them running headlong into her.

"What are you—"

"Careful." You tilt your head towards the kids as they run across in front of you.

"Oh." Yujin flicks her gaze after them and turns it up at you, smiling. "My hero," she says whimsically, almost to the point you feel she's mocking you. Yujin lifts her arm under your grasp until she meets your hand with her own, and then interlocks her fingers into yours. She continues leading as if nothing at all has changed. You're following her again, past countless stores, your hand bound with her all along.

"So, Yujin, soft-serve or—"

"Don't even go there." Yujin laughs, turning to flash you a smile. She pulls on your hand to bring you to a stop. "Here we are."

"But, we didn't even discuss flavours..."

***

It's different, and not entirely comfortable. Usually, Yujin is buried in her phone, scrolling down her feed, flicking through stories or reading all those weird Instagram message requests she gets from her followers. Not this time. No, Yujin is sitting beside you in the passenger seat, her phone nowhere to be seen—enjoying life. Enjoying your company.

She still has her ice cream, in a cone just as she wanted, and she's sharing it with you as you drive. She reaches over between her licks to give you a taste.

It's not just that, it's how talkative she is—now more than ever. Never has she been so willing to discuss her family. She's just finished telling you all about her auntie and how her mother helped her set up a shop overseas, and how she’s visiting her right now. All this talk has led her to her father, who she talks about with much less fervour.

You will never forget the first time you met him; the imposing aura the man commands and his rigorous standards for everything. Her stories though? They seem more like myths.

"He ran a whole rival company into the ground. Pricing them out of deals, cutting shady deals himself. It was ruthless. But effective," Yujin says, pausing before she gives her ice cream another lick. "Hundreds of people lost their jobs; it was all on the news. I was young, so I didn't really understand. Mother tells me it changed him. He was away for a long time. I went years without really spending time with him."

"Yujin... I don't understand. He always seems so..."

"Nice?" Yujin completes the statement for you with a sarcastic laugh. "When he's home, he puts on the act. But when he's away, sometimes mother just wishes he would stay there." She's looking straight ahead now, focusing on the view out the front window as you dip off the highway.

"Can I ask about the scar, then?" It's a topic you're unsure about broaching, but it feels like the kind of chance that won't come again if you leave it.

"Scar? The one on his neck? He wouldn't even tell me or mother how he got it. Probably some ex-employee, or... an ex-lover." That's the one thing you knew about him. Yujin told you before about how he barely even hides his trysts from his wife and the damage it has caused.

"Sometimes I wish the entire company would just burn, and we would all be left with nothing. Have a normal life."

“A normal life isn’t any better, Yujin. Just a different shade of the same colour.”

There's a vulnerability to her now that always seemed so elusive. It's the softness of her tone and the almost timid smile that crosses her face when you look over. Then comes the quiet. The silence as she waits—waits for the world to answer all her unanswered questions. Waits for you to give the reassurance she needs, to know she's not alone.

With one hand still on the wheel, you reach the other over to her lap and find her hand.

"Don't." Yujin pushes back at first. But the harder she pushes, the tighter you squeeze and you let her know that you're going to be here. Her resistance crumbles and the fight subsides. And Yujin entwines her hand back with yours, locking her grip. "Thank you."

You turn the next corner and the molten orange afternoon sun burns ahead of you, threatening to fall below the horizon. Its warm rays burst with vivid colour.

"You never talk about your parents," Yujin asks with a soft curiosity.

"I don't know them. It's just my brother and me. Always has been. Always will be. He raised me," you explain so simply.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I sound so ungrateful now." This might be the first time you have ever heard Yujin utter that word—sorry. She holds a little tighter onto your hand, a returned reassuring squeeze to tell you she cares.

You keep hold of her as you turn into the gated grounds of her house, pull up into her long-cobbled driveway and pull the car over in front of the door.

"You should come in, stay with me until the party," she offers, refusing to let go of your hand.

"I have to go home, I have to wash and change and..." You trail off, omitting the fact you also have to go to Minju's place before the party. Her hold on your hand loosens as you speak but you hold a little tighter and tell her, "but, I'll see you soon."

The warmth of her touch departs your grip. Her face seems more understanding. "You will." She smiles and behind her, through the window, you spot her staff approaching to help with her bags. "Don't be late, okay?"

You give her a firm single nod as she steps out of the car.

***

You're about to buzz for the third time, but you pause to check your phone. You read the address over and over. You're at the right place. Maybe Minju made a typo? Maybe she did this on purpose just to waste your time? You press the buzzer a third and final time. It rings and rings until eventually the screen lights up.

Minju's face is pressed to the camera. "You're early."

"Actually, I'm right on time."

She turns away from the camera to check the clock on the wall. She leans a little to get a better look, bringing more of her into view. More accurately, bringing her bare shoulders into the camera shot. "Fuck," she says as she turns back to the camera. "Okay, look, just come up."

"But I have a taxi here waiting."

"So wave them away." The camera cuts off and the door buzzes open.

You roll your eyes and open the door, turning to the taxi driver and lazily waving a hand before you enter.

When you make it to Minju's apartment, a surprise awaits. You find the door unlocked—that's not the surprise. What's behind it is what is so unexpected. It looks like the aftermath of a localised apartment tornado.

There are shoes on the floor between strewn-out items of clothing as soon as you enter. There's a pair of her jeans right by the door and next to them a bra. You drag your eyes across the room and things don't get any better. You don't even want to know how that pair of tights ended up hung over her TV. Or why there's one of her bomber jackets hung from the fridge? And you especially don't want to question how the back of her sofa became her de facto underwear drawer—there are six or seven pairs laid out along it.

"Minju, it's me," you call out.

Minju pokes her head from her bathroom door. "Take a seat."

"And where in the world am I supposed to find one?" Even her dining chairs hold two folded stacks of work clothes.

Minju shrugs and scrunches her nose before ducking back into the bathroom. A moment of silence is followed by the blaring of a hair dryer. You navigate the floor like a minefield until you close in on the door she just slipped into. You check your watch, just twenty-five minutes until when you told the girls you would be there. Until when Yujin is expecting you—alone.

"Minju!" You call over the sounds of her drying her hair..

She speaks from within, her voice almost completely muffled. "What's wrong?" The sounds cut to quiet.

"Ten minutes until we need to—" Your voice is caught in your throat as Minju emerges from the bathroom. She's wearing nothing but the scent of her soap and the soft glisten of her damp skin. And, in true Minju style, she doesn't cover herself, she doesn't even shy away.

It’s all so… blasé.

"My eyes are up here." Her giggling is playful and sultry, luring you to her, and there is no place else for your gaze to drift. All you have to do is watch. Follow every drop and curve, every exquisite angle. The wet, raven hair hangs heavy down her back.

"You— we— clothes— where are your clothes?"

"Ummm..." Minju raises her hands in a form of shrug as she twists and scans around the room. "They're somewhere here. Probably." She keeps walking, across your path and into the kitchen. You watch her as she struts all the way to the far counter. She stands for a moment or two in a pose, her weight on one leg and the other propped on her tiptoe.

She finally turns back to you, half a bottle of wine in her hand and a half-cocked smile on her lips.

"Minju, I need to—"

"When was the last time you had a drink? Anything since yesterday afternoon?" she asks as she sweeps two glasses that don't even look clean from the countertop.

"No, nothing, but—"

"How about sex? Fucked anyone else since me?" she's asking so casually as she places the two glasses on the small part of her table that isn't covered in books, papers and boxes. She uncorks the wine bottle and begins to pour.

"What? No, but Minju... it's almost—" Your pointless protests are stilted by the young woman thrusting a glass of wine towards you, which you feel compelled to step closer and take. You stand across from her, glass in hand, staring at a face that's staring back.

"Me neither. Cheers," she says, tilting her glass toward you as an invitation. You clink them together and follow her lead, drinking the wine in one go. “That's the drink out of the way. Now how about a fuck?"

Minju places her glass onto the table and then she approaches, sauntering one foot in front of the other until her bare chest presses against yours.

"Time is ticking, I know." Her mouth is beside your ear, whispering into it and brushing the tip of her nose across your cheek. “But we can be quick."

She slides back a step, her hand taking hold of your collar, tugging you toward her as she takes another step. You pass by the table and you take the chance to place your glass alongside hers before she continues to draw you across the room.

You don't resist. Couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted. You step as she guides you. Follow as she leads until her hips rest against her kitchen counter. There you close the space, pressed together, looking into her dark eyes—tainted with want. There's something about Minju that makes everything simple. All the world, the noise, the games. All the expectations and pressures of normal life are foregone and stripped away, leaving only you, her, and basic instinct.

Your fingers cup her jaw, following the smoothness and warmth of her cheeks. It's a subtle action, a movement slow in motion yet so immediate in meaning. As you make your desires known, the sparkle that plays at the corners of her eyes draws your lips into hers.

You near a kiss until she turns away at the last moment, leaning herself forward and presenting her bare back to you. "What do you see?" she asks, looking back at you.

The soft curve of her spine paths her back all the way to the dimple at the base. You smooth the flat of your palm along her sides, touching gently across the silkiness of her warm, wet skin. Your lips come down, pressed to her shoulder and you brush the tip of your nose along her nape. And just like that, you're intoxicated by her. All sense and rationality abandoned. "You."

"Then fuck me." Her voice is sweetly coarse, a gentle whisper. You hear a faint noise escape, a gentle mewing of want.

And fuck you will. Your hands run over her, squeezing gently as you lower. All the while she presses and writhes herself against you, rubbing and stirring at your building lust, toying it further and further. Minju bends over more, backing herself against you until you're made to take a step back. She keeps her hands against the wood as she lowers her head further and slightly parts her legs.

You're quick to unbuckle your belt, pop the button, unfasten the zipper and slip your boxers low enough to take out your dick. Hard, ready, wanting, and there's an invitation in front of you. Bare and inviting, warm and moist, enticing and so perfect.

Minju turns to flash her eyes over her shoulder, holding the very image of invitation. So, with only that little cue needed, you slide inside her. One short stroke followed by a deep, stretching push, all the way, your hips crashing to meet her. Slow, sensual motions in and out as you grip her waist.

"Faster. Like you mean it." There it is. The thing you love and hate about Minju—the expectation, the challenge, the attitude, the need for more.

A few deep breaths and you grip a little tighter. Brace your legs a little firmer and with a shift of weight forward you drive harder into her and her mewl of approval spurs you onward. You hit a rhythm that suits you both. Her back arches. She sways forward with each motion before bucking her hips back, pushing you as hard as you're pulling, matching your want with hers.

As you both find comfort in your actions, a rhythm that doesn't chase a high but pleases wholly, Minju looks over her shoulder again with a question on her lips. "Who's Yujin?"

A quick answer leaves you. "Not now," you respond, while you pull at her hips and pull a whine from her.

Minju's voice is barely a whisper. She repeats the name, questioning it a second time and asking, "You didn’t tell me yesterday. Who is she?"

"Can't you let it go?"

"You have your cock in me. Least you can do is answer my question." Minju is smiling when she says it, showing her teeth with a look that just dares you to not do as she says.

"Fine," you reply and then slide your hand up her body, reaching to cup one of her tits while you fuck her. "Yujin is a friend," you say, and you know how unsure you sound. "And she's a friend of Gaeul and Wonyoung too."

"So, really, have you fucked her too?" The question is as blunt as she can possibly make it and Minju emphasises it further with a deliberate shake of her ass into you, driving her hips back to make a point.

"Nope."

"But you want to." This time, a statement, not a question.

"Why do you think that?"

"As soon as I mentioned her name I could feel you twitch inside me. Fuck me a little bit harder. You wish I was her." Minju laughs, a hand moving behind her back, snaking around to grip her own ass.

"I didn't. I just— It was you, I—"

"I don't care. Think about her if you want. As long as you fuck me." Minju is demanding, the statement becomes her prerogative. She bites her lip and plays with herself. She knows exactly the way to tease and taunt. "That's why you're even doing this? Did Yujin not show enough affection? Too high and mighty to put out? Or does she just not like you?"

"It's complicated." You slow your movements to a series of leisurely strokes. It gives you a moment to collect your thoughts and choose your words. "We've had... moments... but I don't really understand her. But fuck she drives me insane. She's this mystery and sometimes a contradiction and you know what, Minju? Sometimes she infuriates me with her teasing." You remember just earlier today, her little show in the changing room and how it led to nothing more. You hold Minju a little firmer with a tight grasp on her waist and her breast. The anger pushes your hips against hers with a little more force.

"Ooohh... someone is frustrated. It's fucking hot when girls play coy, isn't it? Seeing her and the power she has over you. Dangling the prize and not giving it to you." Minju arches her back and looks at you, a curl in the corner of her lips as she asks, "would you rather be inside her?"

"I'm inside you," is all the answer that comes. It is a grunting, panting whisper. You thrust a little deeper and a moan fills the air.

"Fuck me harder then, use me. Fuck me like I'm Yujin. Like I'm the fucking tease that's finally giving you what you want."

There's something about the way she's taunting and coaxing you that awakens this raw, carnal lust. How does she read you this well? She's got your thoughts down to the very emotion in such a perfect moment, in a time of emotional fragility, and in a way that's strangely flattering, a kind of praise in and of itself. And Minju is saying everything that excites you most about the way you think about Yujin. All of the want and the unfulfilled frustration. All of it validated.

So you fuck her. Truly fuck her.

And you try and bury into her how much Yujin affects you. You push Minju's hips against the counter, slamming her against it and she sends a couple of pots flying in her wake. "Yes, you want her like this," she says in between pants as your thrusts speed to new heights. Minju bucks her hips into you to meet your motions, but even as she braces herself as best she can, she cannot quite catch up.

"Take her as you take me," she cries, letting out the mewing moans with a chorus of gasps, one for every time you grind your cock deep within her, you feel a squeeze, the gripping of her walls, the milking, beckoning tightness. "Break her, like she's never been fucked."

"Ahhh Minju..." You grind in deeper.

"Yujin. You're fucking Yujin!" Minju calls.

You are driven to your deepest. One final stroke as Minju clamps her thighs together.

She yells her words in an abrupt, lustful explosion. "What does Yujin like? Does she like this?" Minju teases, trying to sound seductive despite the audible lack of air in her chest and the torrents of orgasmic energy flooding through.

"Fuck," you grunt, clapping your hips against Minju's ass. Your mind is a cocktail of reality and imagination. A beautiful girl in front of you. The image of Yujin taking off her dress in your mind. That fucking tease, showing you and playing with you and taunting you. She's smiling—they're both smiling. Minju and Yujin. Looking back at you. Smiling, goading, taunting, playing.

"Harder! Fucking harder!" Minju squeals with excitement as she throws herself against the surface in front of her, sending more things flying out the way onto the floor. You have a hand in the centre of her back, pinning her down while you slam into her throbbing cunt. Again and again, the slaps and the wet smacks resound with every impact. "Let it out," she squeals.

Her words stir an inferno, building a flame inside and its warmth fans out, spreading and warming every part of you. Its fire melting and burning you in its powerful force. And then with one last plunge, you hold yourself, pressing as deep into her as possible, filling her up and sending yourself bursting and exploding through her.

The rushing wave. Flooding torrent. Thunderous release.

Everything let go.

In her, and held fast, still spasming, still releasing, spilling, and pouring everything. Everything spent, empty, drained. You try and catch the breath that evades your racing heart and heaving chest. Sweaty and slick. Warm and tender. The exhaustion settling in.

It's all so fucking cathartic. A long-suppressed and repressed fire finally unleashed and given its time to burn. Unhindered and unchained, and all under the watchful eye of your own personal confidant, coaxing out what's been buried, releasing its lock, freeing its bounds.

"Now tell me... how long have you wanted that?" Minju asks, and the satisfaction in her voice makes it clear that she already knows.

With your pulse pounding and breath racing, you're not ready to face her just yet. It takes another moment, holding her, pressed against her, feeling the closeness in a way that you could almost say is romantic. Minju wriggles under you and releases a laugh.

She shuffles and slides away from you, forcing your still sensitive, softening dick to slip from her. Now she is facing you and it's a sight worth appreciating, but at the same time, so, so dangerous. Her beauty is special, but your mind is a mess.

"So..." Minju pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it between her teeth for a second as she dips her head then she laughs. "Did you have any other fantasies with her?"

"Minju." It's the most exhausted warning you can muster as you sink to the floor, sitting back against a kitchen cupboard.

"If it's any consolation. She's missing out. You're a great fuck. Just what I needed."

"Right back at you," you say, leaning back your head, exhausted, to rest on the cold wood. You stare up at the white ceiling, in a strange reminisce. It isn’t exciting but it’s preferable to your thoughts.

"Hmmm, that's cute." Minju is still standing beside you, using a piece of kitchen towel to awkwardly clean herself up. She wipes the thick, slick mess away and asks, "And look. What we just did, it's not weird. I get it. We're two friends just helping each other out. No strings."

You nod slowly, taking her sentiment.

"Don't worry. Yujin will know nothing. Our little secret," Minju says, patting your head. You sit for a moment in silence, Minju still by your side, she's getting herself a bottle of water now from the pack next to her.

"Minju?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is your place such a fucking mess?"

***

A/N: future parts will pick up in a smut sense with the other characters, promise.

also, I have no idea what i'm doing anymore with this part, I feel like this part isn't very good, but trust me, big things are coming.

#minju smut #kim minju smut #izone smut #yujin fluff #gaeul #rei smut #m reader #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop smut #ive smut #ive fluff #folie a deux

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beababoobies · 3 months

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ME AGAIN!!! WITH A SAL X READER REQUEST (again) THIS TIME AIDJSJDH. a porn one at that !!!!

i need sal so bad its an actual problem

just like. imagine reader n the gang r havin a little sleepover. and reader is just so inconsolably turned on for some reason (maybe sal had his hand on their thigh when they watched a movie or smthin), so when everyone is asleep they asks sal to help them out :,,,) (his fingers r just so long n pretty,, they cant help but want them lol)

mayb he has to keep them quiet somehow, mayb covers their mouth/puts his fingers in their mouth to muffle them

hes so shy and nervous and awkward but he’s having the time of his life, watching the reader’s reactions. mayb he cant help but get himself off too, too enraptured by the way reader struggles to gasp and whine against his fingers

GOD DAMN.

would love if u wrote this mootie 🫶🏼🫶🏼 no pressure ofc ofc ofc !! (fem bodied reader pls if u dont mind <3!)

(i might write this too, i love my mind sometimes 🙏)

hey mootie!! Im giving you the fast pass because all the jjk stuff you repost got me into the series and I’m loving it, also cus you’re AMAZING! All characters are aged 20+ because this is based in chapter five of course, please do enjoy! :) (and for everyone waiting for their Hazbin requests to be filled - IT IS COMING! I am a busy woman.)

Needy - Sal Fisher X Fem!Reader

words : 2k, warnings : SPICAYYYY!!, creampie, fingering, slightly public, needy!sal AND needy!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys, c’mon), hold the moan trope

The entire gang had been having more sleepovers ever since Sal and Todd had found the new house. Larry was moving in so it was just the normal next step, and you loved coming over so much. More specifically to spend time with your boyfriend, but also just to feel like old times again. Even Ash came from the city every once and a while, and this was one of those days.

Since it was Larry’s last day living in the Apartments, you had all agreed to made the most out of that small basement apartment you had spent so much of your awkward teen years in. You had been doing all the same shit you used to all day - smoking in the treehouse, playing card games for hours.

You and Sal huddled up around his old gamebuddy, playing the games Larry had kept long forgotten in the corners of his room, Larry and Ash painting on a shared canvas, chatting about life while Larry’s old metal mixtapes blasted in the background, and Todd and Neil cuddled up on the beanbag in the corner, occasionally joining in their conversation, but mostly just cuddled up and enjoying each others company. All of this was wonderful, nostalgic - even healing.

That was all up until Sal quietly suggested you all watched an old horror movie, and you were all huddled together in the dark, you with Sal leaning on your shoulder on your right, and Ash on your left, giggling and nudging you like old times. Larry laid out casually on the floor in front of you all because of how shit his eyes were from years of refusing glasses. Which should’ve been fine.

In fact - it was fine. Until Sal decided it would be a wonderful idea to put his hand on your thigh. Your bare thigh, just below where your miniskirt started. And even that - even that, you could’ve survived with some unwanted heat in your panties. But no, the blue fucker jumped at one of the scenes, hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to accidentally drag your skirt up, his hand knocking against your warm core - hand rubbing up against your clothed clit as he pulled his hand away, and all you could do was pull your hand away from where it was sweetly brushing through Ashley’s hair like you used to do, straight to your face to hide the unbelievably needy whine you would’ve let out.

“you okay?” Ashley whispers softly, looking over to you and you just nod quickly, watching her go back to watching the movie before shooting Sal a venomous glance, which he avoids nervously, already feeling your stare of death shoot through the side of his head. You pierced your lips together, putting one leg over the other and squeezing your thighs firmly shut, Sal’s hand now comfortably resting much, much lower on your thigh. Practically on your calve, as he preferred not to die tonight.

But that’s when it started, the unwanted slick already gently collecting in your panties, your mind running through all the things you wanted to do to him - what you wanted him to do to you. God, your mind was like a dog in heat. You couldn’t even bear to focus on the movie, sitting there, cautiously eyeing up your dead silent boyfriend. His shirt ridden up his stomach just oh-so-slightly from the way he was slouched back, soft happy trail of blue peeking out from under his shirt. God, what you would do to pull those stupid red torn up jeans down - not even fully - and ride him until he was shooting blanks and sobbing under you.

That is how it went on for the rest of the movie. That is exactly how it went on when you all decided the sleeping plan. That is where your mind still was when you and Sal decided to take the pullout couch, Todd and Neil in Lisa’s old room, and Larry sleeping on his bed with Ashley on a cot on his floor. With the thinnest fucking walls known to man kind. You should know - you grew up with the same ones.

Sal yawned as he laid next to you, mask placed softly on the table right beside the couch, as well as his glass eye floating in a cup, looking at you nervously as he pulled the covers up over himself too, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him from behind, expecting you to be asleep by now - you were a heavy sleeper, he was an insomniac. It worked out like that. Until he heard a soft, half-whine of a whisper come from you.

“S-sal..” you mumbled softly, pressing yourself back against him, causing him to let out a soft whine of his own, hand around your waist flinching ever so softly. “P-please baby, need you so bad..” you mumbled out softly, turning around to face him, seeing the needy tears in your eyes had him melting as well, piercing his lips together as he grips softly at your side.

“N-no, you know how thin these walls are - I’m sorry about earlier, but..” he says nervously as he watches you whine and writhe softly, pressing yourself up against him, one hand on his chest. That’s when you decide to make the move, grabbing his hand and moving to in-between your legs so he can feel how absolutely soaked through your panties are, causing him to experimentally run his fingers over them, biting down on his scarred lip so hard he’s concerned it might bleed. You can’t help a choked whine and a buck of your hips against his hand at that, looking up at him with those needy eyes. Fuck.

He doesn’t say a word as he puts two shaky fingers to your lips, and you wrap your mouth around them without question, twirling your tongue around them and sucking on them like your life depended on it, all while he shakily pulled you panties to the side, prodding his fingers at your soaked hole, a quiet ‘fuck.’ Escaping his mouth when he slides one in with ease, feeling the vibrations around his fingers as you whine. “G-gotta be quiet, please - we h have to be quiet..” he mumbles out messily as he feels his cock throb to life in his sleep shorts, smearing precum across his thigh when he feels your cunt clench needily around his fingers.

He lets out a sigh of relief when you quickly nod at him, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts to curl his long fingers inside of you, the obscene squealing noise making him whimper softly, hips accidentally bucking softly against your thigh as his cock tries to find some sort of friction - daydreaming about how easily he could slip inside you right now with how wet you are - how you would feel around his cock, velvety walks clenching around him and providing him that oh so delicious friction he was searching for.

His thumb moves to gently circle your clit as you start to find a slow grinding rhythm against his hand, practically riding his fingers as he finds that delicious spongy spot on your walls and pushes his fingers up against it, causing your cunt to give another urgent and needy clench, more slick falling into his palm, making a mess as he tries his best not to whine himself.

The slippery sounds of friction, the feeling of your thigh twitching pressed up right against his own throbbing problem, or the way his fingertips are pressing up against the entrance to your throat, the way his other fingertips are pressed up against your velvety walls. It’s driving him beyond insane, to the point he’s thinking he might cum in his sleep shorts if it continues this way. And he didn’t bring an extra pair - and it would just be a waste if he didn’t cum inside of you - not while you were practically begging for it.

“B-baby.” He whines out, catching your attention for a second, tears of pleasure falling softly down your face as your hips still, whining against his hand from the way you stopped while being so close - it was beyond downright embarrassing how quickly you were about to cum, and you were honestly glad he stopped you. “C-can i please put it in? J-just the tip, please baby, ‘s so sensitive. Need you so bad.” He whines quietly and softly, pressing his hard on against your thigh to back up his own statement, whining softly again. “Just wann’ cum inside you, please…” he whispers, watching you nod eagerly.

Pulling his fingers out of you with an obscenely wet pop, pulling your soaked panties to the side and he lets out an erotic sigh pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he pulled his shorts down, cock slapping to attention against his abdomen, precum beading from the sensitive tip as he shakily pulled your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and gently rubbing it against your entrance, and you could hear how wet you were when he moved his tip to part your drenched lips and drag through them, whining into the crook of your neck as you grabbed his shoulders, brain fuzzy with the way his hot tip felt rubbing against your clit, sticky with your own slick.

He bit down hard on your shoulder as his tip popped past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance, desperately rutting against you, trying not to whine or let slip how good it felt to be inside you - the way your hot, heady slick insides felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper. His hand cupped your mouth quickly, stopping you from making a sound as he gently pushed himself further inside you, feeling you grip tightly at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he broke his promise, pushing his cock inside of you, inch by desperate inch, trying not to slam his entire cock into you at once - which was unbelievably hard, considering how wet you were, and how desperate he was - his tip prodded at your cervix, making you jerk forward, groaning against the palm of his hand.

He rutted into you desperately, not daring to thrust properly, letting everyone else hear how wet and desperate you were, or even worse, how even needier he was for you, the head of his cock bumping against your sweet spot, the only sound in the air being the quiet sounds of your muffled whines, and the quiet rustling of sheets as he ground into you, abdomen rubbing against your clit as he did so, bringing you to the edge so much faster than you ever expected, cunt clenching around him, the sign that you were about to cum. He just nodded into the nape of your neck, hips refusing to stop.

“m-me too, fuck, me too, me too ‘m gonna cum, ‘s too tight, ‘s so warm.” He half whines, half whispers right into your neck as he detaches his teeth from your shoulder for a second, before hurriedly latching them back onto your neck as you feel his cock violently twitch inside you, whining desperately into his hand as you felt yourself start to cum, cunt clenching around him desperately, slick flooding from you and creating an obscene squelching between you two as you spasmed and arched under him.

He groaned into your neck as he quickly pulled his face from your neck, smashing his lips desperately against yours, muffling his own groans as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can go, cumming hot ropes into you as he stills, thighs twitching as he pulls his mouth from you, both of you panting and catching your breaths, feeling the warm liquid pool out of you and spill onto Sal’s abdomen as he lets out a small and raspy chuckle, still catching his breath.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

#sal fisher #sally face #sally face x reader #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally fisher #ashley campbell #todd morrison #neil sally face #sal fisher smut #sal fisher x reader smut #JESUS CHRIST!!! WOW!! MY FIRST SMUT!!

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yanderestarangel · 2 months

Text

BOSS MIGUEL O'HARA x HOUSEKEEPER FTM! READER

smut confectionery event ┆ CUPCAKES ┆possessive sex, overstimulation , breed!kink, dub con. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "hard!dom boss + sub!housekeeper." ୧⊹ ��˖ ── SMUT

˖⁺ ⊹୨ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝔀. 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 ୧⊹ ⁺˖

𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮<3

TW: ftm reader, possessive sex, jealousy, dark decencies, v!sex, vulnerable!kink, cunnilingus, fingering creampie, power play, afab anatomy, porn plot, breed!kink, bite.

You have received an offer to work in the home of the most powerful Spider-Man in the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara in Nueva York 2099. Being Miguel's domestic servant was calm and subtle ── you had complete freedom to be at his house all day, and there were few things to take care of, just cleaning the floor, making food and leaving everything organized and dust-free.

He had some technological gadgets thrown on the floor in some places, but you didn't even touch them, orders from the man himself, even Layla, his assistant A.I. would talk to you to check your work or if you needed something... He was a boss attentive and worried, even too much. But you never thought that you would now be hunched over the dinner table wearing only the apron with nothing underneath that he told you to wear while he held your neck tightly, his eyes were feral and you could see venom dripping from his canines.

The reason for his fury? You were seen with a man from the city and what's worse, you flirted with him back ─ you never thought it was a big problem, after all, you were single and young but for Miguel you had a serious problem... You were from him.

The truth was that the futuristic Spider-Man had hired you because you could be his perfect future husband, beautiful, helpful, you took care of him and did everything he told you to do; He is was always a cold and calculating man in everything but mental insanity was increasingly present in his head after losing his family from another reality, you were his chance to be happy again with someone even if you weren't even aware of what he worked for in months.

Coming back to reality, you saw Miguel smile sadistically as he watched your breasts bounce out of the containment of the thin fabric of the lacy apron ─ he saw the way you were flushed, how your nipples were hard and your pussy was gradually lubricating itself. every time you inhaled his perfume, they were mixed with the pheromones that released from his skin because of the change in his blood.

"Did you really think you were going to flirt with someone and I wouldn't know? Are you that stupid, guapo? Don't you understand your place yet? So maybe I should teach you your role in this house and in my life." Miguel growled between clenched teeth, as he pushed you onto the table again - this time he placed you with his hips raised, giving access to your ass and pussy, he looked at the holes in your body while smiling sadistically, kneeling with his face close for your pussy.

You shivered just at the proximity of his face to your cunt, you felt O'Hara's hot breath on your skin as his hot tongue entered your hole without warning ─ it had been so long since you had sex, just with your own fingers or rub yourself against your pillow before going to sleep.

"Are you so needy? I barely touched you." Miguel taunted as he dipped two thick fingers inside your wetness, easily hitting your sweet spot as he watched you squirm with his every touch ─ the junction of fingers and tongue working together, the stress of the day seemed to vanish, replaced by pure pleasure.

Playing with you and treating you like his personal toy made him feel in control and extremely good. But the jealousy was still there, he needed more, he needed to prove that you are his boy.

"You always know how to turn me on, boy. You're so fucking beautiful." He whispered against your sensitive skin making you moan his name, perhaps a request for him to stop or continue ── regardless of what it was, he didn't care, all the blood that helped him think rationally pumped his cock.

Miguel soon removed his mouth from you, leaving a string of saliva momentarily connecting you both; his eyes glowed red, full of hunger for your flesh.

No additional warning you felt his thick hot girth enter you at once making you arch your back and try to accommodate his raw size and rhythm in your core.

"That's it, boy. Take it." Miguel's eyes were focused on his cock, seeing it slide into you smoothly. He couldn't help but groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly ─ He felt powerful, like he was in control of everything.

"Cum for me, boy. Let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze my dick while I breed you, Oh─ You will be my perfect husband, and we will have several children... You and me."

You couldn't think straight, the pain of pleasure mixed with each rough thrust he gave you making you moan like a slut in heat. The feeling of being breed by him sent sensations in your brain making you roll your eyes and salivate begging him to do that, fill you up and make you his soon ─ The words came out like sobs from your lips without shame or modesty, while at the base of his cock was a beautiful halo of semen as he held your body tightly babbling about how you It belonged to him, biting your shoulders until it marked your delicate skin.

"You are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, you are mine, YOU'RE FUCKING MINE!" ─

Miguel cum hard inside you, holding you and watching your body shake every time you enjoyed the intense orgasm that he had given you, he soon pulls your hair forcing you to look at him.

"My dinner isn't over yet, right? I still have my dessert left."

𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂'𝓻𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮....𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

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sadesluvr · 2 months

Text

The Hills (Part One)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This is based off of my Poolboy! JJ idea, and mean girl! Reader was the most popular (I'll probably write for a Housewife! Reader too though) This is my first time writing for OBX, but I’ve been meaning to put this out for a while🤭…I have ALOT more scenarios to play with, so this will be Part I of 3, but can also work as a one shot if I get lazy.

Not fully proofread, so sorry for mistakes!

Enjoy, and minors DNI.

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: SMUT / Poolboy! JJ / Mean!Kook! Reader / Degradation / Hatefucking / Teasing / LOTS of sexual tension / Unprotected sex / Light biting / JJ is feral and a little scary but it’s hot / Creampies

» [The Hills - The Weeknd] «

0:09 ─〇───── 4:03 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

“Halle, grab the middle one would you? That way I can see Daddy on the golf course,”

Barf. JJ already knew what time it was.

For a girl who had it all, your life was rather methodical. You and your two friends would strut to the pool at 2PM on a Saturday, straight after your one o’clock tennis lesson and hours before you’d be whisked off to some fancy restaurant for dinner. That was your life, which, on multiple occasions, he’d heard you describe as “totally unfair”.

Sarah Cameron may have been the Kook Princess, but you were very well next in line. You were always draped in some kind of designer; was never one to miss a manicure, and kept yourself camera ready, as if there were a paparazzi around you. Still, you may as well have been, as you had all the friends, lovers and admirers a celebrity would’ve had.

However, you seemed to lack one special, but huge thing - basic fucking decency.

In short, you were a bitch.

And there was no one you were a bigger bitch to than JJ.

He never believed in your false virginal, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ spiel, and with good reason. You were snide, ungrateful, and had never even said as much as a ‘Thank you’ to him.

Once, you’d even managed to ’accidentally’ spill a drink on him.

Without a doubt, today was going to be one of those days.

“Hey, poolboy? We’ve been here for ages and you haven’t even gotten us an umbrella. Do you want me to fucking die?” you scoffed, brow raised expectedly as your two friends, Bree and Halle and snickered beside you.

“Chill out, ‘kay?” JJ said, rolling his eyes. “They’re in the same place they usually are. It’s not like you can’t do it yourself,”

“Do I look like a slave? Fetching umbrellas is what you get paid to do. Now hurry up and get us some Margaritas while you’re at it,” you said sweetly, a fake smile plastered over your face as you waved a hand dismissively.

Clenching his jaw, JJ was about to retort when one of his seniors, a middle aged man rather indistinguishable from the rest, intervened.

“Is there a problem here ma’am?”

“I don’t know, JJ,” you retorted pointedly, his name laced in venom as you spoke. And yes, you did know his name. Poolboy just rolled off of the tongue better. “Do we have a problem?”

Wincing, the blonde ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said through gritted teeth. “None at all.”

He disappeared with a click of his tongue, blatantly aware of your smirk as you peeled off your scarf that hugged your waist. The lacy fabric danced off of your body to expose your torso and bare legs, glistening in the summer heat like a mirage in the middle of a desert.

As JJ clenched his fists, he couldn’t ignore the similar tightening sensation in his shorts, and quickly readjusted himself.

He just couldn’t give you that kind of satisfaction.

Not for now, at least.

“Yikes, I know her —“

“—How could you not?”

“So Pope’s one of her groupies…Got it.”

“I am not one of her ‘groupies’, okay? She’s got the whole island palm of her hand. Of course I’d know of her!”

“Whatever…Groupie,”

The Pogues were sitting at the Chateau, forced to listen to JJ’s rant about ‘Little Miss Brat’ from the country club. It was obvious to all of them that JJ, though not quite yet in love, certainly had a crush, information that was particularly striking to Sarah.

“I totally know what she’s about,” Sarah said lazily, tossing her hair. “Rich, pretty, all round self proclaimed bitch…No wonder my brother has this huge crush on her,”

JJ blinked and pursed his lips. The mention of the Kook king was triggering enough, but more so that he was infringing onto Kook territory far more than he expected.

“Rafe’s into her?”

“Big time,” she shrugged. “She’s never paid him any time of day, though. ‘Could probably do better anyways…”

JJ clicked his tongue, and began to rapidly drum his fingers on the windowsill. He couldn’t help but smile as he gazed out onto the greenery, and his leg bounced in tune to the made up beat.

“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?” Pope said quietly from across the room.

“What?!” he said, turning to the rest of the group, hands raised in defence. “You really think I’m gonna be stupid?”

“When are you not stupid?” Kie said flatly, to which Sarah nodded.

“Not much faith in you, buddy,” John B added.

“Wow, thanks guys,” the blonde said sarcastically, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna smoke. Feel free to join me once you’re done with the dogpilling, ‘aight?”

He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

To his surprise, you’d shown up that weekend with relatively no fanfare. You were sitting in the same spot, dressed in your signature swimwear, with a short floral sarong clinging to your waist. Large sunglasses shielded your eyes as you basked in the rays, something that JJ was all too happy to interrupt.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Fortune…Where’s your entourage? Have they finally come to their senses and ditched you?” he said, stepping in front of you to block the light, eyeing the empty sunbeds on either side of you.

You didn’t flinch.

“Shut up JJ, I’m not in the fucking mood,” you snapped, before waving a hand dismissively. “Just get me my usual,”

The boy grinned.

“So you do know my name? Or was that a recent development…?”

Scoffing, you pulled your glasses down to your nose before smiling at him sweetly.

“Of course I know your name,” you purred. “How else would I be able to make a complaint to your boss?” you finished with a shrug.

“My boss?” He choked. “What the hell do you want to speak to him for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Maybank,” you continued, gracefully swinging your legs to the floor and swiftly standing up. As you did, your breasts bounced slightly, a sight that came second only to the sight of your hips moving as you began to walk back into the building.

JJ furrowed his brows, swiping a tongue over his lips subconsciously as he followed you.

“I’ve seen you checking me out,” you hummed, side eyeing the way the blonde stalked you through the corridors. “I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment,”

“Jesus - fuck - you’re such a bitch, you know that?” he sighed frustratedly, running his hands through his hair. As you neared the opposite end of the hall; just around a corner by a supplies room, you stopped, turned and smirked as you faced him.

There was no denying that he was sexy when he was angry; with his hair becoming tousled and pointed like mini devils horns, and the passion in his blue eyes growing deeper by the minute. You were more than aware that he was no prize, but sometimes the forbidden fruit was often the sweetest.

“I mean, how do you wear those skimpy little tennis skirts and swimsuits and not expect any guy to look?” he said, exasperated, but the rigidity of his body told you otherwise.

“So you don’t deny it?” you grinned. “Interesting…”

JJ let out a loud sigh.

“Look, not that it matters to you, but I can’t fucking lose this job. I’m already on thin ice,” he said, suddenly grabbing your arm as if he were about to throttle you. His firm grip and his equally stern voice sent a tingle down your spine and eventually pooled in your loins. It certainly wasn’t the aircon that was giving you goosebumps.

You scoffed and pulled your hand away, making JJ bite his lip.

“That’s not my problem!” you spat, beginning to walk away when JJ stopped you again, this time cornering you up against a door. You blinked as he wedged you between the surface and his toned arms, one leg brushing dangerously against your own to keep you in position as his pelvis was pointed towards your own. Trembling, a raspy voice emitted from his throat as he cautiously looked around.

You were alone. Just the two of you.

“…W-What is your problem?” he said through gritted teeth, eyes furiously locked onto your own. “Did you break a nail? Daddy cut your allowance, huh? Haven’t been fucked in a while?”

Pausing, your brows raised slightly upwards as your lips parted at the statement. Any other guy who would’ve said that to you would have ended up with a swift kick in the balls.

The blonde chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t genuine, but out of pity.

“…So that’s it, huh?” he laughed, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek, casting your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t lost on you how a sly smugness was smeared across the boy's face, his pink lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them.

“You know, I could probably help you out with that, but I know that a guy’s gotta have a thousand dollars to —“

You cut him off by planting a swift kiss on his lips, draping your arms around his neck as you gently grazed your manicured nails across his skin. He wasted no time in pulling you in by your lower back, and you rubbed your front against his hardened cock, more than aware of the lack of material between you two.

Before he could get too cocky, you pulled away.

“If you say one goddamn word about this, not only will you be fired, but I’ll ruin whatever you and your little Pogue friends have on this island, got it?” you said, voice hushed.

JJ smirked, and saluted.

“Yes ma’am…” he snickered, and you rolled your eyes, quickly taking his hand and dragging him into the supply closet, before intertwining yourselves together again.

“Daddy’s taking me home in ten,” you breathed between kisses. “We don’t have all day.”

“Lady, I don’t want to hear about your ‘Daddy’ right now,” JJ said, lithe fingers sliding down your body to squeeze your ass, absentmindedly pressing his cock against your thighs. He wanted you; all of you, but truthfully he knew that there was one way he wanted to take you.

Mean girls deserved punishment. Mean girls deserved to be fucked like the bitches they were.

JJ let out a soft groan as you felt your way into his swim shorts, bucking his hips into your hands as you jerked his cock in a haste to put him inside of you. Pressing your back against the wall, you arched your back as you waited for him to take you…but it didn’t come.

“JJ…” you whined. “Don’t waste my fucking time…”

“Woah, there. Pretty eager, are we?” he grinned. “What makes you think we’re doing it on your terms?”

You were about to answer when JJ placed a finger to your lips, running his finger down to your chin and caressing up your jawline, holding your face still in his hands.

“Bend over.” he said, borderline emotionless, and you slowly obliged, nodding as you spun and pressed your face against the cold wall. JJ exhaled from his nose, eyes locked on your body as he stalked you, slowly kissing along your neck as he left rough love bites, tracing down to your collarbone and causing you to let out a soft, yet impassioned moan.

“JJ…You can’t do that…”

“My bad, princess,” he scoffed, pulling his lips away from the crook of your neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your image and all…”

He pushed your stomach against the wall, and you arched your back slightly, allowing him access to slide his fingers into your swimsuit, rubbing the outside of your folds before pushing the tip of his dick in.

JJ considered himself to be a guy who liked the fast life, but he was going to take his time with you.

Call him cocky, but he knew this wasn’t going to be your last time.

Though he had a fairly regular girth, his cock had a decent length, and you could feel a prominent vein pulse within you as he rocked his hips in and out of your desperate cunt. His hands tightened around your hips, groping at the soft flesh of your ass through gritted teeth as he revelled in the sound of your moans.

“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet…How long have you wanted me, hm?”

“This is nothing,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensation. “Don’t let it get to your head, Maybank.”

“Oh, so the way you’re gripping my cock is nothing, right? Jeez, you could’ve fooled me, princess,” he laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. “What would Daddy say if he saw his Kook princess getting railed like a whore by a dirty Pogue, huh? Shit, I bet Rafe would fuckin’ lose his mind…”

Your stomach formed knots at the statement, and you felt your legs tremble as you clenched around him. His cock was hitting each and every untouched crevice perfectly; every withdrawal and thrust of his hips making you want him more. JJ was rabid; fucking you like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill you or consume you. Judging by the way he pawed at your body, you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk back to the foyer (tomorrow morning was another story) without looking like you’d been in a catfight.

Mouth agape, you managed to turn your head just enough to face him - his face flushed and glassy eyed - and locked eyes before you spoke. Whether it was your biological high or something rather deeper, you were able to see the beauty in him. JJ was rugged, certainly rough around the edges, but he was beautiful.

“JJ…” you whispered. “I-I I need you to cum…”

“Already on it, m’lady,” he snickered, and angled his head to pull you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as his pace, though quick, became more shallow and disorganised - almost convulsing as he felt himself begin to come undone inside you.

JJ ran his hand through his hair, separating the clumped strands that clung to his forehead. His heavy pants soon became gentle breaths; but he didn’t let go of your body, instead beginning to trace small circles on your hips as he softened inside of you. Once the time was right, he pulled away, careful to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Although he couldn’t place it, he knew he felt different.

PART TWO

#florence writes!!#jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine

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kinkyliterotica · 1 year

Text

(This image belong to Sony and I do not claim ownership of it)

(Part 2)

Venom x OC Period Sex Smut

Summary: Shannon unexpectedly starts her period, Venom has a creative solution.

Warnings: Period sex, blood play, oral sex, rough sex, rough penetration

———

Shannon, Eddie, and Venom had formed a much more intimate bond since their first night together. The initial lust was strong, and Shannon’s chemistry with Venom was substantial. There were moments when Eddie felt like he’d been sidelined by his own Symbiote.

He tried to remember that he fronted most of the time, Venom had little time and space to be free. Perhaps he owed Venom this.

That evening, Eddie invited Shannon over to cook. He was not an excellent chef, but he was eager to try. Anne had done most of the cooking during their relationship, and he was ready to prove himself as a partner.

Eddie was pan frying sausage while Venom mixed pancake batter. Shannon rang the doorbell, and Venom dropped the bowl on the counter, and extended himself to answer the door.

“Hello Darling.” Venom greeted her.

Shannon moved smoothly past Venom, “Hey, sorry I have to use the restroom. Give me a sec.”

Venom was caught off guard. Eddie had to remind him to close and lock the door. Venom’s wide white eyes watched Shannon as she headed to the bathroom. Eddie continued cooking, shaking the pan to flip the sausages.

“There is something wrong, can’t you feel it?” Venom asked Eddie, his head floating next to him.

Eddie dismissed him, “What’re you talking about? She just had to use the bathroom.”

“Listen to me Eddie, I smell blood.” Venom ground out.

That got Eddie’s attention. He killed the heat on the pan, and turned his attention towards Shannon. He rushed down the hall and knocked on the door.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Eddie asked. Venom pressed his head against the door to listen.

Shannon sighed, “Yes, I’m fine.”

Eddie didn’t want to drop this issue, he pressed on, “Venom said he smelled blood.”

Shannon was irritated, “Could I get a little privacy please?”

Eddie held his tongue, he didn’t want to piss her off, but he needed to know what was going on.

“Just tell me, are you hurt? Should I be worried?” Eddie’s voice was laced with concern.

Suddenly Shannon pulled open the door, her underwear and pants were around her ankles. On the crotch of the pants there was a puddle of red. She had fresh red blood dripping down her legs. Her brows were drawn together in frustration.

Shannon’s voice was frantic, “I started my fucking period 3 days early, I don’t have any spare clothes, and I’m bleeding everywhere!”

Eddie couldn’t hold back his laugh. He hunched forward and gripped his stomach. The laughter burst from him.

“Oh shit,” Eddie exclaimed, “I thought it was something serious.”

Shannon’s mouth formed a dangerous looking frown.

“This is serious for me Eddie.” She said between clenched teeth, “It’s humiliating. I’m a grown woman.”

Eddie realized his reaction was less than ideal, “Sorry, sorry. Let me run down to the store and grab you some stuff alright? I did it for Annie all the time. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

Before Shannon could respond, Venom consumed him. Enveloping his form, and growing around Eddie.

“What a waste. Why not let me solve your problem?” Venom purred.

His tongue lashed out, flicking through the air. Saliva dripped from it and landed on the vinyl floor beneath them.

Shannon’s brows hit the ceiling. She had not expected this kind of reaction. She stumbled back, her hand grabbing the sink for support.

“What–what do you mean, Venom?” Her voice, a moment ago so full of anger, had faded down to a meek whimper.

Venom’s enormous black arms wrapped around her, forcing her down on top of the toilet. Her bare ass shivered against the cold porcelain. Her pants and underwear were still around her ankles.

“Sit back, relaaaaaaax…” Venom’s voice was equal parts hypnotic and eerie.

His hands were so large they easily closed around her biceps. His huge body was crammed between the wall and the toilet. He got onto his knees, his head hovered right above her bleeding cunt.

Her flow had just started, the blood was fresh, and quickly pooling inside of her. It leaked out of her hole just a bit.

Venom smiled, his teeth bared, enormous and terrifying. The tip of his tongue traced his lips like he was about to devour his favorite meal. His wide white eyes looked up at Shannon’s face for a moment. There was lust there, so much lust it frightened her.

All at once his tongue dove into her. The blood inside of her made a noticeable SQUELCH. It didn’t stop Venom from digging the fat muscle futher inside. He was moaning, growling. He withdrew for just a moment, her blood coated his tongue. He swallowed it, sighing contentedly.

“What a treat!” Venom said, “I want more.”

Before Shannon could respond, his tongue was back inside of her. Exploring her folds, and lapping up all of the blood. She couldn’t hold back her own moans. Her voice was foreign to her, full of meekness and hesitation.

It did feel good. Extremely good. But all the same it was strange, this was not what she’d been expecting. She knew that Venom had eaten people before, but she didn’t know about his affinity for blood drinking. It was entirely new to her, she’d never had a guy fetishize something like that. She wondered for a moment how Eddie felt about this, if he was enjoying himself, or just allowing Venom to indulge himself. Either way, it felt too good for her to risk stopping it. Venom was fronting, so she had to trust him.

Venom’s grip on her tightened, he was truly ravenous. The blood continued to flow from her hole, and Venom drank it like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Shannon writhed and moaned as his tongue played with her cunt. The tip traced along her folds, leaving no part untouched.

Shannon was shivering, her body unable to resist but struggling to find comfort or purchase on the seat.

“The taste of fresh blood,” Venom’s voice was deep, “There is nothing like it. Eddie does not want to scare you, but you’re not scared, are you?”

Shannon cried out, “No, no, please, keep going!”

“Yes, yes, this is all mine. There is no shame, I want all of it.”

Venom lifted her up, holding her hips and ass in his enormous hands. He buried his face in her cunt. She grasped his head for support, nearly hitting the wall. She could barely register the sensation of his tongue lapping at her pussy. He was moving so fast, she was afraid his teeth would puncture her. She wrapped her arms around his head, trying to keep herself upright.

Venom’s pace was torturous. The sounds he made were primal and deep. Eddie was in there somewhere, but now, there was only Venom.

Venom pulled his tongue out of her. She let out a held breath, tears coming to her eyes. She was shivering, her heart racing beneath her breast.

“I want more. I’ll have to speed things along.”

Venom’s hands ran up her ass, along her back, until he held her upright entirely with his own hands. He slid her down onto the floor carefully, making sure she didn’t hit the door or the counter. When Shannon was about to get her bearings, Venom’s tentacles slithered out. His tentacles wrapped around his midsection, lifting her from the ground once again. Just enough that she could be flipped over onto her knees. Her hands came up to support herself, but one of Venom’s hands pushed her down.

Her ass was prone in the air, her cheek pressed against the fuzzy rug on the floor. Her arms were tucked under her form, no space to move, she was trapped. Before fear could overcome her, Venom used one of his thick long tentacles to prepare her cunt for him. It pressed in and out of her, stretching further, going deeper. The friction on the inside of her walls was maddening, she ground against him. The tentacle suddenly swelled, pushing the limits of what her cunt could take.

“Venom, please don’t break me!” She begged.

Venom purred, the appendage stretching her did not let up, but he did slow the pace down. He gently entered, and pulled out, dragging out the sensation. His form fell over her like a shadow. His mouth was by her ear.

“I will not break you, but I will make you bleed. Again and again for me.” His voice was a promise.

The tentacle slid out of her entrance, and was quickly replaced with the tip of his cock. The head was so much larger from the back, she knew that in this position she would be the most vulnerable. She tried to take a deep breath, and steady herself. But when his dark head pressed into her heat, she whimpered.

It hurt. It hurt so much. His girth was inhuman. There was nothing that could soften this. She knew by now that enduring was the best she could do until her walls adjusted. Her cunt would learn to take him eventually.

Venom let out a dark laugh. The sound rumbled in his chest, and vibrated against her back. She wondered what had caused him to laugh, but in a moment she felt it. When his tip hit her cervix, he had caused another wave of fresh blood to flow. She was bleeding on in, because of him. It lubricated her tight hole, and provided some relief.

Venom teased, “You’re coating my cock with your sweet red juices. Such a filthy Human.”

His hips drove into her, forcing her tits to drag across the small bathroom rug. Her pelvis strained from the effort of Venom slamming into her. Venom was primal now. Growing and drooling and using all of his strength to hurt her, just enough to make her bleed once again for him.

She wondered if Venom could keep this up all night.

#monster smut #x reader #dom/sub #oc smut #breeding toy #monster fucker #eddie x venom #venom smut #venom x reader #we are venom #venom symbiote #venom x OC #eddie brock #period sex #bloodplay

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Note

Hear me out… you know that meme of like the dad and the dog that he didn’t want who always end up being super close.. can we get something similar to that with Chishiya and y/n LMAO

btw I love your writing and I’m glad you’re back ♡

Haha, I guess this is the closest way I could replicate it? Enjoy <3

(Chishiya x gn reader)

---------------------------------------------------

‘Please.’

‘No.’

‘Please, Chishiya! There’s plenty of spare hotel rooms.’ This woman, Kuina, was bouncing on her heels now.

You felt a little awkward being argued over like this, but you also didn’t want to intervene. The relationship between Kuina and this man, Chishiya, wasn’t clear. Whilst you had been forced to collaborate with Kuina in your last game - swinging from chain ropes to avoid the swimming pool of simmering acid below - this was the first game where you had worked with this ‘Chishiya’ person. He wasn’t particularly tall, and his dyed blonde hair was striking against his sly, catlike features. Why Kuina had to ask his permission to take you with them, you couldn’t tell. From the sounds of it, this ‘hideout’ of theirs had a leader who ultimately decided on who stayed or went.

The game itself had been troublesome; a twisted spin on snakes and ladders. The venue was an old brick building with scaffolding covering the entire exterior. The rules seemed simple, too; climb up to the roof to clear the game. What the rules hadn't explained was the exposed electrical wires and venomous snakes.

You had been climbing just below the other two when Chishiya’s foot slipped on the wet steel. It went against every one of your survival instincts, yet your body moved on its own, freeing one hand to grasp Chishiya, catching him whilst clinging onto the scaffolding with all your strength. His expression was still vivid in your memory, as he clutched your hand. Rather than surprise at what had happened, or relief. He looked puzzled, as if he couldn’t work out why you’d done it.

Truth be told, you weren’t too sure why yourself.

‘Strength alone isn’t enough,’ you could hear him murmur.

Kuina huffed and folded her arms. ‘Speak for yourself. You would have died back there, you know.’

‘And?’

You grimaced, trying to hide your face in your sleeve. If your presence was this much of an issue, maybe it would be better if you simply went your own way.

‘Um… hey,’ you mumbled, causing the pair to suddenly look up. ‘It’s obviously a problem, so I’ll just leave. Good luck on your next game.’

You began to walk away into the cool evening. The breeze was refreshing after such a physically exhausting game. Their hideout did sound like a great opportunity, but you knew when you weren’t wanted. Behind you, you could hear the two bickering, their voices growing more and more distant with every step you took.

‘See! Look what you’ve done now.’

‘I don’t see why you care so much, Kuina.’

‘Chishiya!’

The arguing stopped, but you didn’t bother looking back to find out why. Maybe things were supposed to be like this. You’d arrived in this twisted world alone, so maybe you were supposed to go back alone too. You were thinking carefully about where you should set up camp for the night, when a smooth voice called out from behind.

‘You.’

Slowing, you turned around to see this man, Chishiya, strolling towards you. His hood was drawn over his head, hands in his pockets, and his relaxed demeanour suggested that he had no intention of harm. Yet his eyes were analytical, and you could feel him assessing every move you made. Behind him, Kuina was slowly making her way over.

‘What cards do you have?’ Chishiya asked.

Your hand instinctively went to your pocket where you kept your stash. ‘Seven of Spades,’ you said, trying to remember all the games you had cleared. ‘Two of Hearts, Eight of Clubs, Nine of Spades, Ace of Diamonds—’

‘Fine.’

You hadn’t expected Chishiya to give in all of a sudden. Was it really just down to your cards? Looking at him now, his eyes were glittering with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

‘That’s it?’ You asked, unsure of what was truly happening here. ‘That’s all you wanted to know?’

‘You’ve got a good range of cards,’ he said. ‘And you’re a skilled Spades player. You could be useful.’

Kuina’s face cracked into a grin. She pressed her palms together as if her prayers had been granted. ‘Really! Does that mean we can keep them?’

Chishiya pulled out a pair of headphones and slid them into his ears. ‘Whatever,’ he muttered.

The two began to walk back in the direction they had come. At first, you weren’t sure if this was truly happening. Had you really found allies you could rely on? Allies who had food and shelter? Kuina and Chishiya were several metres ahead before the latter turned around, his gaze expectant.

‘Are you coming or not?’

You nodded, unable to hold back a smile as you took your place by their side.

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu

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bittersweetarts · 6 months

Text

How to Disappear - Chapter 4

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 3132 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page

Chapter 4: Talk

“Good morning princess. Tea or coffee?”

Eden’s body was sore, and her neck and arms ached. The room was cold, like a freezing cold you could feel in your bones, and as Eden’s vision returned and sharpened, she found herself in an unwell-lit, vacant windowless room, and stood in front of her were two figures; an average-looking curly-haired Joe, and the large, dark-haired, bearded man who had attacked her in her home.

Immediately Eden tried to stand, adrenaline now coursing through her veins, but she found herself restrained, with one of her hands handcuffed to a pipe behind her. This would not be a problem, but as she kept roughly pulling, trying to break out of the cuffs or to break the pipe, her wrist started to hurt, and after thrashing about for too long, Eden noticed that her strength was missing. An annoying foreign accent, feigning friendliness, brought Eden’s attention back to the men in front of her.

“I’m guessing neither tea nor coffee.” Eden ignored him, continuing her futile efforts to break free.

“Careful not to hurt yourself, love. You’ve got more than yourself to think about now.”

“What the fuck have you done to me?”

Eden’s tone was filled with venom, angry that her powers were gone. As she spoke, she stared up to the pair, and she noticed how the lankier man was nervous in comparison to the foreign one, and she intended to take advantage of this.

“Nothing permanent, don’t worry. Just a little concoction to keep you at bay, but we aren’t going to hurt you, as long as you don’t give us a reason to.”

“Well, you’re doing a fucking fantastic job, assholes.”

As Eden sarcastically responded she raised her handcuffed hand, which were already tender. Eden now noticed that she wasn’t wearing the office clothes she remembered putting on last, but a black sweatsuit set that she had gotten cheap from Target the previous winter.

Kidnapped, stripped and drugged – what else have they done to me? Eden thought panicked.

Realizing the dire situation she was in, Eden quickly switched up her attitude, and instead of thrashing about, she pulled up her knees and placed her head on them, looking up at the two men, face flushed, letting her eyes water from the very real fear she was feeling now.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it. Please, just let me go. I don’t know what you want, but you don’t seem like bad men. I don’t have much, but I’ll withdraw everything from my account, you can have it all, I won’t say a single word to anyone. Please, just let me go.”

Eden’s voice cracked as she finished, choking down a sob.

Eden was scared, and if there was one lesson she learned from the Supe conflict resolution course that she took for one semester in college, it’s that she needed to gain the sympathy of her kidnappers, and she needed to capitalize off of her fear to do so. Unfortunately for her, in contrast with the lankier guy, the dark-haired man in charge was not fooled by her theatrics, and clapped as he spoke.

“I can see why he fancied you, love. You are a real damsel, a lady like Vivien Leigh, and the face for it too. Sadly, we’re not in Hollywood.”

“We aren’t going to hurt you Eden, we’re really not the bad guys – ”

Eden was waiting for the smaller man to speak, and immediately turned to him, with her brown hair falling on her face.

“So please then, just let me go.” Eden pleaded directly to her target, who she stared at with rounded eyes.

“Hughie, the pamphlets.”

The dark-haired man ignored Eden’s pleas, and turned spoke to the other man with a definitive tone. Apprehensively ‘Hughie’, took a bag that was on the table next to them – Eden’s bag. The young girl’s stomach turned as she saw him rummage and pull out some familiar papers.

“Stop, who do you think you are? What right do you have to do any of this?” Eden pleaded again.

“I’m Butcher, this here is Hughie. Fabulous, we’re all introduced. Now, how about we tell you what we know about you, and you can fill in the blanks. Your birth name is Eden Michelle Reid, twenty-five years old, blood type B, Capricorn, so you’ll be turning twenty-six soon, happy early birthday.”

The man paused for a moment, as though waiting for a response, but Eden said nothing, and stared with hatred at him.

“Clever girl, got into Godolkin University despite having not very extraordinary super abilities. You were never going to be in The Seven, that’s for sure. The charts say super strength, but it’s not the strongest, at least based on your assessment reports. That’s maybe why you dropped out, and ended up living in some random city in Jersey, working as a receptionist and not making very much. But it’s an honest life, and I can respect you for that.”

Eden looked up at the man, her face frowning. The man turned back to the table, picking up a file with papers, and taking them out to show Eden as he continued speaking. The first paper showed CCTV pictures of a dressed-down Soldier Boy, driving her Mazda, its car plate number clear as day.

“… what we cannot figure out is how Soldier Boy came into the picture. You’re a woman who lives a relatively remote, no social media presence for the past five years. Your manager thinks you’re shy, your co-worker considers you a bitch, the doctors at your clinic praise you, meanwhile it feels like practically no one else knows you. So, love, how did such a lone wolf meet Soldier Boy?”

Feeling the violation of her privacy, with a clenched jaw, Eden answered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, love. It’s not a good look on you.”

The man then took the papers from Hughie, and dropped them onto the ground near Eden, one-by-one, pictures of Eden from the past weeks, at her workplace, arms wrapped around Felix, their last kiss, pregnancy advice pamphlets, and her results. Eden felt sick, and the only reason she wasn’t throwing up was because she had physically nothing in her stomach.

“Congratulations by the way, a miraculous conception given the IUD. This ain’t the baby shower you imagined, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And we’re trying to save people.” Hughie blurted out, as though he were searching what to say, and evidently said the wrong thing, based on the look the other man gave him.

“That’s what you’re doing? Saving people by stalking, attacking, kidnapping and drugging a pregnant woman?” Eden said spitefully, chin up in defiance.

“Well, love, we won’t have to do any of that if you listen. We only need one thing from you, and then you can be on your merry way. We don’t need to harm you – in fact,” Butcher declared. “… if you promise not to hurt us, we’ll uncuff you, after you do one little thing for us.”

“You’ll remove this?” Eden suspiciously asked, eyes narrowed.

“Consider it a gesture of good faith. We can’t let you go right now, hope you understand, but if all goes well, you’ll be out of here in no time.” Butcher answered in a lighter tone, while Hughie looked at Eden with guilty, pleading eyes.

Eden weighed her options, but her current physical predicament was uncomfortable, and if she was going to be here for some time, might as well reduce the miserable-ity she has to endure. Defeatedly, she responded.

“What do you want?”

With a smile, Butcher answered, whipping out a phone from the pocket of his jeans. Eden’s phone.

“Nothing crazy. Just a little phone call to one of America’s favorite historic heroes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eden flawlessly lied between her teeth, but it fooled no one.

“Eden darling, here we were being honest with one another.”

“We were there when he called you …”

Hughie interrupted, going on his knees and sorting through the papers in front of Eden. If she had wanted to, Eden could have grabbed him by the hair, made him bleed, but she didn’t. Instead, she watched as he sorted through the documents and photographs, before pulling out photographs of her on the phone, on the night that Soldier Boy called her. Eden had felt eyes on her that night, and other others, but she dismissed it for paranoia. She felt like slapping herself for doing so.

“… and intercepted the call, we heard it all. Please don’t make me play the recording.” Hughie finished, with apologetic eyes

Eden felt overwhelmed and had to lean against the wall to stabilize herself. Even though it was the Butcher-man that was not as nice to her, something about Hughie made her feel vulnerable, maybe because unlike the bearded-man, Eden could tell that Hughie was good.

“But it’s not his.” Eden said meekly, as though she were trying to convince not the two other men, but herself.

“Ah, yes, Felix, the new boyfriend. See love, I don’t care if you are carrying his baby, or your little boyfriend’s, or if it’s the spawn of Satan.”

Eden ignored the bearded man, and continued, looking only at Hughie.

“Felix is going to notice I’m gone, we see each other every day, and he’s got family in the force. The clinic will notice I’m missing, I always tell them when I take a day off. Please Hughie, just let me go now and I won’t breathe a word about this to anyone.” The pleading didn’t work though, as Hughie looked to the ground, avoiding Eden’s stare.

“Do you really think we wouldn’t tie loose ends? Your boyfriend already thinks that you’re driving back home – that’s a two day drive, mind you – and we’ve texted him that you need space. You’ve also taken a sabbatical leave from work, resignation email sent last night, and your car – which is shitty by the way – is also parked elsewhere now, for safe-keeping of course. Are we missing anything?”

As Butcher finished, he seemed pleased with himself and the work that evidently his team (a larger one than just the two of them, Eden deduced) made. Eden, on the other hand, felt defeated, and meanly spoke up to him, chin tilted upwards in temerity.

“You’re just like him, you know? You and Soldier Boy.”

“We’re nothing alike, love.”

“You’re selfish and use people to get what you want. I’m surprised you guys aren’t friends.”

A knowing look flashes before Butcher’s eyes whilst Hughie’s eyes widen, and that was enough to confirm Eden’s suspicions that they all, at the very least, knew each other from before.

“Frankly, your opinions don’t matter to me, princess.” The large man paused for a moment, before coming closer to Eden, putting her phone between them.

“I’m calling now, it’ll be on speaker phone, so use your voice.” As the dark-haired man unlocked Eden’s phone and began swiping on it, Butcher quickly spoke again.

“And maybe don’t mention your boyfriend – Benny Boy’s of the jealous kind, and Felix isn’t a Supe. Understand what I’m getting at.”

Eden didn’t get an opportunity to respond, because as Butcher finished, the phone, on speaker, began to ring, and rang only once before it was answered, and a deep voice echoed through.

“Morning doll, what do I owe the pleasure.”

From the other side, Eden could hear TV noise in the background. It was silent for a heartbeat, and the tension in the room was palpable. Butcher cleared his throat, kneeling over even closer and bringing the phone nearer to Eden; the brunette nervously spoke up on impulse.

“Ben.”

“Eden, what’s wrong?”

“Ah, fantastic, you guys are on a first name basis. This hopefully makes things faster for us. Eden love, will you tell him, or should I?” Butcher didn’t give Eden much of an opportunity to decide. “Oh, I can’t keep the secret any longer ¬– Eden is pregnant, and guess who’s the daddy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Soldier Boy’s tone drastically shifted, cold and calculated now, like how it was the night he woke up in the cabin. Eden forgot that he spoke like, and she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, observing the moment like an audience watches a stage.

“Well, if you don’t know, then I guess Eden here probably got knocked up by someone else. My mistake, I’m only human after all. We’ll have to dispose of her though, since she’s of no use.” Butcher declared, and Eden sensed no lie in his speech.

“You’re bluffing, you guys don’t hurt innocents, not when it’s unnecessary.” Soldier Boy responded, his voice sounding like he was speaking through clenched teeth. Butcher however found delight in this and answered almost joyfully.

“But Eden here is not innocent from where I’m standing. She’s a Supe for one, and she’s also helped you, a far cry from a regular old civilian. And who knows what she gets up to in her spare time.” Successfully baited, Soldier Boy immediately reacted, threatening in his usual hostile cadence.

“Don’t fucking touch her, don’t even fucking look at her. A single fucking scratch on Eden, and I’ll make sure to painfully kill not only each and every one of you, but also your entire families. Goldilocks’ mom, I’ll skin her, and I’ll do the same to your entire crew. But your wife’s boy, my bad, your ex-wife’s boy, will be the first name on my list.”

Soldier Boy’s tone was venomous, but rather than being frightened, Eden found herself even more detached from herself, stunned completely.

“Listen here, Ben. There is no place on this Earth from Homelander two-point-O. If you do as I say though, I may just let Eden go unscathed. What do you say, granny-fucker?”

The phone was silent, and Eden thought that maybe Soldier Boy decided to hang-up and leave Butcher to do as he threatened. As Eden watched him, she realized that the lanky man, Hughie, was gone, but she hadn’t even noticed him leave.

Was it because Butcher was telling the truth, and he intended to murder her if Soldier Boy didn’t agree to his demands. The thought of dying the death she was imagining made Eden’s eyes uncontrollably water, and tears started streaming continuously as her sinuses became congested. And the dark-haired man before her noticed this immediately.

“Eden love, don’t cry. Tears aren’t good for the baby.” Butcher loudly pronounced, entirely calculated, and from the other line, Soldier Boy’s voice returned, filled with colorful swearing.

“Fuck you, bastard – are you fucking deaf? A fucking imbecile, that’s what you are. Cheer her the fuck up, and if you make her fucking upset again, I’ll shove a gun so far up your asshole that when I pull the trigger, you’ll explode like a fucking pinata.”

Butcher only rolled his eyes, before responding.

“Sure thing Benny, but you see, I don’t give a fuck. Do whatever you want, but if you don’t do as I say, then Eden here will soon be returning to her namesake, I promise you.”

Still detached, Eden thought maybe she vaguely heard Soldier Boy repeatedly swear some more, even more loudly this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Calm down Ben, you can have your Eden back, you just need to do one thing for me, just one job.” Butcher spoke over the ex-American hero, until he became quiet.

“All we’ve got to do, is take out congresswoman Neuman.”

“The brown bitch on TV? I’ll get it done on my own. Just fucking let Eden go.”

“It’s not that simple. She’s the head popper.”

“The head-what?”

“The head popper, the moment she sees you, it’s game over, distance doesn’t matter. She’ll burst your old wrinkly brain before you think another thought, just like how you burst your pimples as a teen, and she can do it to anyone.”

“I’d be stupid to help you then, not to mention that you stabbed me in the back.” Soldier Boy’s voice echoed through the room. Eden, still detached from herself, was staring wide-eyed at the ground.

“You think Eden’s baby will ever be safe? The baby is half you, and it’s only a matter of time before people, including Neuman, find out and target it. These people have no fucking moral qualms about killing babies, they’ve killed and ruined countless already, and babies are easier to manage than adults.”

As Butcher responded, he started to kneel over closer to Eden, and stared at her with a burning gaze.

“… and I’ll throw in a final treat. After this is over, I’ll let you kill me.” Soldier Boy laughed before responding, and his laughter bounced off the walls, a perfect manly laugh for the supposedly perfect man

“And the others?”

“Consider it a temporary truce, which ends as soon as the job is done, and our interests are no longer aligned.” The bearded-man responded, and Eden could feel his musky breath on her skin. The room is silent for a few moments, before Soldier Boy’s answer echoes in the room

“Fine. But I get Eden back, immediately.”

“I can arrange for that; we’ll be working together after all.” Butcher responded obligingly with a smirk, and Soldier Boy ignored him.

“Pass the fucking phone to Eden, right now.”

Eden was still sat speechless and hallow, staring wide-eyed at the ground, and as Butcher brought the phone closer to Eden, the only thing Soldier Boy could hear was her shallow breathing. Butcher let out a humorless chuckle before responding.

“The Mis'ess doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Tomorrow, three pm, world's largest frying pan, North Carolina. Alone.”

Not giving Soldier Boy time to respond, Butcher hung up and threw the phone across the room, shattering it into fragmented bits, before stepping closer to Eden and unlocking the cuffs. Eden was vacant as this happened though, and as soon as her hand was free, it dropped to the side.

“Sorry ‘bout the phone, love. We’ll get you a replacement.” Eden didn’t respond, and Butcher let out an exasperated sigh.

“There’s breakfast and a magazine on the table, and you can rest on the sofa. When you need the loo, give a shout. There’s someone outside.”

Eden still stared at the ground, and despite Butcher’s cold-heartedness, he still felt pity for her, and leaned down, hoping she’d turn to face him.

“Chin up, mama. You’ve gotta stay strong and look after yourself, because there’s two of you now.”

Eden still sat motionless, and giving up, Butcher walked out the room, picking the fragments of the broken phone on his way out.

Author's Note: I've got a busy week ahead of me, so please bare with me if the next update takes some time

– Chapter 5 (WIP)

#fanfiction #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy ben #soldier boy x oc #soldier boy x original character #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher #hughie #jensen ackles fanfiction

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sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

Text

Fall Drabbles, Day 1

prompt: Spiders

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is not a fan of spiders.

warnings: swearing, sickly sweet fluff, descriptions of bugs (most bugs do not bother me so I don't think its super graphic but I could see people with fears/issues w spiders being grossed out so I'll warn you. Please let me know if its too much!)

a/n: I was in a really bad slump this week where I had the energy and time to write but none of my serieses (is that the right plural lol) were sparking joy. So I started writing some little pieces for Matty and Frank and I'm very excited to share them!

w/c: <1k words

Manhattan contained a variety of urban pests that Frank never had a problem with. Squishing roaches and chasing off rats came naturally after a lifetime in the city, and Frank never batted an eye. Flies, leeches, mosquitoes, Frank didn't have a problem with any of the traditionally abhorred creatures--except for one. Spiders.

Frank blamed his extensive time overseas for his…intense dislike of spiders. He didn’t particularly like them before Afghanistan, but regularly seeing arachnids that are half a foot long or venomous enough to put a linebacker in the ER? It’ll put them on your shit list real quick.

So yah, Frank was not a fan of spiders. But he didn’t readily volunteer this information after realizing that most of the population—his compassionate girlfriend included—found it amusing when hulking, grown-ass men had issues with bugs. The first time he’d seen a spider at your apartment, the thing had chased him on top of the coffee table as he let out a string of curses—a scenario that had humored you to the point of tears.

“It’s just a wolf spider, Frankie. It’s not gonna hurt ya.” You’d giggled, scooping the damn thing into a cup and letting it out a window. Serves him right for having a soft spot for kind women, he ended up with a godforsaken spider saver.

Thankfully, you had enough love for your boyfriend that you tended to rescue said eight-legged things before he ever spotted them. (Though, now that he thought about it, that could be for their benefit rather than his.) Regardless, it meant that his distrust of spiders went pretty much unnoticed…until fall rolled around.

New York was palatable in most seasons, and Frank was more than used to extreme temperatures, which meant the weather wasn't the reason he hated autumn so much. It was the goddamn bugs. Every year, without fail, those spindly hellspawn would take shelter in his apartment the moment the climate shifted. This year was no different, with Frank having to chuck his boots and random household objects at the creatures as they scuttled across his floor in an effort to stop them from laying eggs in his walls. If he didn't know better, he'd think they were taunting him. Maybe he should start mounting their heads on toothpicks along his front door.

Grumpily plotting their annihilation, he drained the rest of his shitty coffee before shoving his mug across the dark wooden table. His aversion to spiders wasn't so great that it regularly added to his insomnia, but waking up to a spider crawling over his pillow had been enough to force him out of bed for the night.

Pushing his aching body away from the dining room table, he shuffled blearily to the couch, crumbling into a horizontal position and turning on the tv. The mindless cable channel allowed his mind to enter a state of hibernation, laying there like a corpse as dawn came and went. A sudden knock jolted him out of his daze.

“Frankie?” Letting yourself into his tidy apartment, you tutted in sympathy when you saw him slumped on the couch. ”Here, I brought coffee.“

”'re we doin' somethin' today?“ Frank rasped, gratefully accepting the offered paper cup and taking a swig.

You giggled. “You asked me to come over at 3 am. You said you wanted me to, and I quote, 'bring poison for the squatters that keep crawling into bed with you.' Thankfully, I am fluent in exhausted Frank because that could have been very alarming to wake up to otherwise.” Perching on the cushion his torso was on, you set a bag of assorted items on the floor. Threading a hand into his hair, you studied the purple tinge under his eyes. “Did you sleep at all, sugar?”

Shaking his head, Frank let his eyes fall closed as you kneaded at his scalp. “Sorry I texted ya, I don't remember doin' that.”

“Not a problem, pumpkin. Sounds like you might need some back up if the squatters have been causing so much trouble.”

“Meant spiders.” He groaned, gesturing in the direction of his front door. “Damn things are buildin' an army in here.”

You chuckled. “How about you take a nap while I handle the spiders, hmm?”

Nodding tiredly, Frank shifted into a more comfortable position and llet his head thunk against the armrest.

Rolling your eyes, you poked his shoulder. “I meant in bed, tough guy.”

Pretending not to hear you, Frank simply flipped over. Smirking at your exasperated grumble, he settled in for a nap. Before nodding off, his heart swelled with affection as you threw a blanket over his body and slid a pillow under his head. “Sleep well, sugar.”

As he slept, you diligently scoured the place for creepy crawlies, capturing them in the plastic box you'd brought before releasing them into the wilderness--spraying the borders of his door and windows with diluted peppermint oil to prevent their reappearance. Brushing your hands together with satisfaction, you curled up against your broad-shouldered boyfriend for a well earned mid-morning nap.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #the punisher x reader #punisher #the punisher imagine #nmcu #my writing #fc #fall prompts 2023 #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal

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bandaged-writer · 1 year

Text

𝗔𝗞𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗔 [𝟬𝟮] ㅡ 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨

pairing. mafia! dazai x executive! reader

genre. romance, mystery + smut

warnings. dazai's musings of suicide

words. 588

summary. was this genuine worry or skilled manipulation?

note. i'm so sore i feel like a cracked lego brick

previous || next || masterlist || ao3

“Do you think I could freeze to death if I stayed the night here?,” Dazai asked, hands clasped behind his head and his eyes reflecting the innocence of a child.

Streetlamps illuminated not only the dark streets of Yokohama, but also the depths of hazel eyes. They blocked out the comforting sparkle of the stars or even the moon’s smile and grace. Many people found comfort in the night sky, in what it had to offer, but Dazai always thought that the moon wasn’t smiling, but laughing at him.

Laughing at the human he had failed to be. Laughing at his foolish attempt to find a reason to live for; something trivial that those around him seemed no problem in finding as if that reason was in plain sight.

Now, the only smile that accompanied him was yours. Shoulder by shoulder, he strolled throughout the illuminated streets with you without a particular destination in mind. A walk was what you suggested, to get to know each other or something along those lines.

A lollipop was stuck between your lips. Dazai silently wondered what flavor it was.

“Hmm..,” you mused, eyes closing shut for a brief moment. “Hypothermia is quite the way to go. Your feet and hands will go cold first since your body prioritizes the survival of your organs. Your lips would go blue, you would shudder and be in pain for quite a while before eventually losing consciousness and dying,” you explained and held a thoughtful hand to your chin, eyebrows raised. “Is this how you wish to die?”

Dazai sighed dramatically and sighed like you had burdened him with household chores. “You sure know how to crush a man’s dreams.”

Perhaps, he should attempt to die in a more painless way. Something that would neither burn nor freeze him. A death that would embrace him with warm arms, welcoming him into eternal slumber where his mind was at a pleasant stasis, where his soul was salvaged.

You tilted your head and chuckled in response. “I’m sorry. But I don’t exactly want you to die just yet.”

Those words were foreign to Dazai. No one ever cared whether he was dead or alive. Most anticipated him to fail regardless and expected him to stroll back into work with one more band-aid on his knuckles and a new layer of bandages on his body. Was this genuine worry or skilled manipulation?

You were under Mori’s direct command, after all.

“Let me guess. Boss’s orders?”

You shook your head. “No. It’s much simpler than that.”

Popping the lollipop from your mouth, you stuck it in-between Dazai’s lips with a smile upon your features. “It’s because we’re a team now.”

Dazai owlishly blinked at you. The sticky taste of sweet cherry engulfed his tongue along with something that was uniquely you. He rolled the sweet treat around, trying to find out what exactly you tasted like, but all he ever found was cherry and venom in the form of your saliva. In the end, he smirked to himself.

As Dazai was busy figuring your taste out, your phone rang and you had a brief conversation. Or rather, someone was talking to you and all you said was a mere “hello” to start the call. The more seconds passed by, the more he could see the shimmer disappear from the depths of your irises.

Lowering the phone, you turned to Dazai and smiled as calmly as ever.

“Another executive has been shot.”

if you liked it, a comment or rb is much appreciated! <3

taglist. @ashthemadwriter @96jnie @katatedge1

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #fic: akrasia

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howdoesagrapewrites · 10 months

Note

Hey pookie bearrr 🥰🥰

Feeling a little silly tonight after listening to some more Tyler while lying in my bed and thinking up random scenarios that will forever stay in my head and imagining myself being the main character in an edit SOOOO I got an idea

Okay but like just imagine- super happy reader x pavitr x gayatri (yan or not, don’t think it matters too much for this one so do whatever you feel like), they’re really down to earth and manage to calm both pavitr and gayatri down when they get stressed or angry. They don’t really talk about their own problems because they don’t view anything as problems, they’re and optimist that turns every difficulty into an opportunity per say. They’re just a very calm and happy person all round but one day after coming home from maybe a family gathering, with a family that isn’t the best, and they’re just so- upset and angry.

Not in the upset and angry that lash out at every little thing but the upset and angry that’s cold and short.

Anyways, gayatri and pavitr notice pretty quickly they’re really mad and they try to comfort reader but they’re just so dry it’s almost upsetting- short answers and snapping a little bit but then saying short and annoyed sorrys.

After trying to comfort the reader but failing gayatri and pavitr try and give them space and leave them to their own accord. Pavitr and gayatri and worrying about what to do in the living room when they hear loud crashes and thuds coming from their room. Scared and worried they run over the the room to find that the reader just trashed it, book cases thrown down, clothes scattered, papers and pens and pieces of glass scattered everywhere. In the center of the trashed room is the reader with their back to the door just seething by trying so hard to just keep it in and internalize it they’re on the brink of almost hurting themselves just to keep it internal.

Idek how to describe it cause it sounds kinda silly but I need some good ass hurt comfort and your the best person who could do my wacky little ideas justice 🕊️🕊️

Inspired by She by Tyler 🤑

𝘽𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣

Cw: poly!reader x Pavitr Prabhakar x Gayatri Singh, reader has a toxic family, self harm, small bit of blood, hurt/comfort, tw for Gayatri and Pavitr being actually sane in this one fic.

Notes: hiii darling 💞 I really hope you like this<3 (I also do this so it's kinda inspired by my own issues 💀). I don't know if I got the "She" vibe, I think I'll save that song for a darker one

You're a calm person, a mature person, a positive person. The one that always knows what to do, the one that everyone goes to for advice, the one that has everything under control.

Control, controlled every crisis, every tear, you bite your tongue until you choke on the metallic taste, you swallow your own venom to save others the inexpedient. And you reap what you sow when others call you "sunshine", when they trust you, when you can help others through their own feelings, planting in other fields, the kindness you cannot grow on your own, for the life of you. The love, the mercy, it blooms around you, never in you.

You accept it, you embrace it, whenever you bottle up your emotions, you kiss it, you keep it. You hoard these ugly, complicated, muddy feelings, they remain even when you do what you're supposed to, when you do the healthy thing to do. They are kept with compassion. You hope for the day this boggy substances may have any use, may be adjuvant to fertilize the dry, mistreated field your heart, to clean it, rebirth it. You hope that your heart beating means something. That is a sign of hope, and not just a mechanical, calculated tic tac performed by a cold machine in order to keep the most important gear working, you hope that in the machine alike action of your body, there's something deeper, a "beyond" the blood and veins.

It's worth it, it's always worth it to you. When you guide your partners into confronting their emotions, teach them to see the bright side of life, when you take the higher ground instead of letting yourself say something you'd regret. However you look at it, it's worth it, and it's working.

Pavitr often notices it, he tells you to not work yourself too hard, and not bottle up your emotions, but even with though he has the best intentions in the world, he just doesn't understand it. Yes, there's the possibility that bottling up stuff might come back to bite you in the end, but why bother worrying about that? Your method works, and, isn't being positive, well- positive?

"Are you sure you want to do this alone?" Gayatri looked at you, troubled, she knew interactions with that side of the family rarely brought you more than distress. They offered to be there with you for you countless times, but you'd rather leave them out of it, away from your family's scrutiny. "I am, 'Tri you don't have to worry about me" she laid her hand on top of yours, silently saying "I got you", you look in the mirror and finish fixing your hair for what you know will be an hours long martyrdom you have to endure in order to keep peace.

They both say goodbye at the door, Pavitr kisses you cheek, you know what they're thinking, but you can handle it, unpleasant experiences aren't the end of the world, and you have been avoiding this for long enough, there's no use in hiding from your problems.

"I got some ice cream in the freezer in case you need to vent a bit after it" He offers you

"Sounds nice" you respond with a weak smile, you won't vent, he knows that. It's still so nice of him to want to give you space to.

During the gathering, you shift your attention to trivial, small things, like your spine. It should be straight, you need to correct your posture, you look at your nails, they're not at their best, you should get them done, your steps seem off, you couldn't have forgotten how to walk, is that concerning? Maybe you should go to a doctor. How does that one uncle always manages to smell like watered down old wine? You don't even sit down yet, he doesn't seem drunk, maybe it's his natural smell. The air also smells like lemon, that's a nice touch. Touch. You have to touch people to greet them, it's okay, you've done it before, you'll be okay, touching isn't a big deal, it's just customary, don't worry, you're almost done.

For the time you're back home, your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, your muscles are tense, you want to lay down, but you won't. You know you're annoyed, but it doesn't mean anything, just knowing you're feeling bad never did anything, never helped.

You open the door, and pray Gayatri and Pavitr are away, you are not surprised when those prayers aren't answered, and you find Gayatri working in her laptop and Pavitr probably making coffee, judging by the smell.

"How did it go?" Gayatri asks meekly, she hoped you'd take a sit next to her, but you're going straight to your room.

"Fine." You'd have the decency to look her in the eye while answering, but in your face is obvious it didn't go "fine".

"Well, we still have that ice cream in the freezer, we can always eat it to celebrate, no?" It doesn't take a genius to know you were lying, so now you know she's trying to cheer you up. Normally it'd be sweet.

"No. if you want it that badly, eat it." You hoped that answer would give her a sort of clue, but it doesn't, now she's getting up from the office chair to go get you.

"It doesn't look like you're fine" she says, putting her hand on your arm

"No shit, Sherlock"

"Y/N, I know you're stressed, but she's just trying to help" Pavitr comes out of fucking nowhere to intervene

"Now where did you come from?" You really didn't want to say it in that tone, so bitchy and almost disgusted

"It's my apartment? It's hers too?" He doesn't back down, he just states the obvious and remain unfazed by your tone

"Mine too, so I'd like to go to my room."

They leave you alone along with alright, whatever you want's said under their breath, you don't care.

They're both very surprised to see their usually down to earth, cheery partner acting that way, but per explicit request, they leave them alone.

The two walk silently to the living room, sitting next to each other in the periwinkle couch.

"It must've been quite bad to have them like this" Pavitr started, he was verbalizing what was evident, but it needed to be said

"I can't even imagine how they must be feeling, or what they did to them" Gayatri sighed

"Do you think there's something we could do?"

"Right now? Leave them alone, probably, they won't mean whatever they say. And I'm also a little mad, but it's not the time to talk" Gayatri rested her head on her lover's shoulder, it's an attempt to calm the racing thoughts, but they both know it's not enough.

The rummaging and the sound of their things hitting the floor starts. Pavitr shakes and tries to stand up, Gayatri grips his hand tighter, and just looks at him, no words spoken. But he understands he must stay away. They hear your various sounds of distress, the hairs in their arms and nape spiking, as they look to each other's eyes, hoping for some kind of answer.

Until none of them can contain and just sprint to your room, the door is locked, but it's a fairly weak safe, and it only takes a strong push of Spider-Man on the door to break it. You're crouching on the floor, face puffy from all the crying, and the room absolutely trashed. Books you were so eager to read, now mistreated and damaged, art supplies you saved money for, spilled, laying around, some broken, clothes scattered, your figures and other accents from your shelf on the floor, uncared for, and of course, the glass vase that held the latest flowers you received, spilled and soaked some of your belongings and left a puddle on the floor, along with spiky broken glass. Your breathing was audible, a cry for strength, so you'd be able to bottle up everything again, you didn't even seemed bothered by the sound of the door being violently opened.

You lay at the middle of all the chaos, and with graceful movements, they cross the sea of clutter for you, careful to not break anything more.

Pavitr crouches too, facing you, and softly grabbing your wrists so you can't keep using your nails to hurt yourself, he can see the bruises already forming in multiple spots of your body. Gayatri doesn't touch, afraid it'll overstimulate you more. Instead, she hums a melody, both to help you snap out of it, and to steady your heartbeat.

You come back to reality, muttering apologies, and wanting to leave this all behind, you really just want to encapsule your emotions away and avoid seeing such expressions in their faces.

But they won't let you, not this time, no matter how long you need to talk, how long it takes you to actually talk, if you cry or want to scream in the middle of it, they are both now vowing to never let you reach your breaking point again.

You have two people to share your burdens, who will never think less of you for not being useful, who'll appreciate all your feelings, even the ugly, muddy, complicated ones.

#atsv x reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gayatri singh #gayatri x reader #gayatri singh x reader #atsv pavitr #pavitr x gayatri #spiderverse pavitr #ATSV Gayatri #gayatri x pavitr

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letsunity · 10 months

Text

With Thunder Comes Lightning

Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.

art by darknessdearm

Chapter 3 - Society

"That's it?" MJ questioned, confused by the broken sphere on her coffee table. "This is how a super sinister snot has been killing entire universes?"

"Essentially," Peter answered, equally unimpressed. "He'll be hopping from body to body now, trying to find this."

"Another question. Why can't he do what Venom and Eddie do?"

"It's like a compatibility thing. Symbiotes need a host that fits them. Klyntarus is so toxic that people melt and burn."

"Oh, so Miguel's compatible?"

"What?"

"You said that he doesn't burn when Klyntarus touches him. That means he's compatible, right?"

Oh, shit.

She's right. Of course, MJ was right; under all that glowing ruby hair was a brilliant brain that could detect things Peter couldn't.

That explains why Klyntarus is so obsessive, at least. The fact that his fellow spider wasn't a puppet meant that there was something more to it, though.

Whatever made Klyntarus so toxic and unstable must alter how he takes over people that are compatible with him. There's a lot that Peter doesn't know about him, although he's aware that the beast is vindictive.

Who taunts someone over the death of their child? That's horrific, especially when they're the killer.

"This is why you're the brains between us."

"Alright, we destroy whatever this is and hunt the goopy bastard down. Is that about right?"

"Pretty much. The sooner he's gone, the sooner we can focus on the little one," he smiled, unable to look away from her bulging stomach. "Don't worry yourself, MJ. We got this. We always come out on top."

That's what Peter wants to believe, anyway.

He can't do anything against such a monster. At most, he can be a distraction. How do you fight something that you can't hit?

Fighting alone wasn't going to work. They needed to talk to the others.

He doubted that the Avengers would be open to Miguel; he's already stolen from Stark. The X-Men, however, are more open-minded.

Wolverine would be an annoying bastard as always, but with help from Professor X, they can kill this bug.

"You can't stay here." Jesus, how is such a big guy so quiet? "He'll be coming for you. Staying here isn't safe."

Their guest had taken a morning shower. Annoyingly, he also decided not to put a shirt on afterwards. It was his choice, of course; it was better than no pants.

The problem was that he looked good.

Without the bandages, burns and blood, he looked good. Great, broad shoulders with detailed muscle. His arms were thick, and his waist surprisingly slender.

Peter could see the V line of his hips disappearing into his pants.

His hair was still wet from the shower, making those dark brown locks frame his face perfectly. Those cheekbones could cut through paper. Beautiful red eyes, the same he regretfully punched at, didn't look nearly as menacing on him.

The scars, though...

They were so deep, long, ragged and twisted. Many of them stretched with age. What disturbed Peter the most were the clinical, surgical scars. Although it was probably from surgery due to being Spiderman - it's an injury-prone job - something told Peter there was more to it.

"About that. I was thinking - shock and horror, I know - we should go to the X-Men for some help."

"They won't be as helpful as you think."

"I mean, it's better than the two of us."

"They'll all go after him, Peter, and they'll all die. He'll hop from their bodies, trying to find the most stable and abuse their powers. I've seen what happens when Xavier loses control over his power - it's not pretty."

The idea of that was terrifying.

"What haven't you seen?" MJ asked, which was a good question.

"I haven't been to the universe where everybody is a zombie, so I technically haven't seen that."

"I wanna see that."

"No, MJ, you're not going to the super dangerous zombie universe," Peter sighed, wishing Miguel hadn't mentioned that.

"Don't be a buzzkill!"

The smartest of them wanted to go to zombie land. They're doomed.

"That entire universe is on lockdown; nobody can go to it."

That sentence confused him. What did he mean by that?

Quickly, the other spider regretted saying that.

MJ looked to Peter, seeking answers that he didn't have.

"Are there others with you?" she asked.

"I'm not talking about that," Miguel shot down, silently sinking away in the corridor.

Peter's not going to let him slither out of this.

"Miguel, do you have like a team or something? Is that what Klyntarus meant by "no backup"?" Peter pressed, but it only made the other spider close up more. "If there's help, we should ask for it."

MJ couldn't move quickly, but she wanted to know what happened.

He would get answers.

Peter followed. If he decided to leave the house, Peter might be unable to follow. Annoyingly, his fellow spider is adept at disappearing without a sound. It's a little creepy how little sound he made when he moved.

He heard the window open, and Peter shot his web, sticking Miguel's hand to the wall.

"¡Ay, coño!" he hissed, glaring at Peter. "Could you not web me?" the other spider growled, scratching the webbing away.

"You're not going to run. We're in this together, big guy. We're going to be open and communicate - alright?"

Miguel growled again, his fangs peaking. They do things that they shouldn't to Peter - did he have a vampire thing? That's awkwardly unhelpful and sudden.

His new friend was pacing, distressed and irritated. He sounded like an upset dog.

Peter crossed his arms, waiting.

They will talk about it, and Peter will chase him if he has to.

"You didn't mention that there are others," Peter stated, less than amused.

"You weren't supposed to know. That's obvious."

"Well, why?"

"That's not a rabbit hole you want to go down, Parker."

"A super evil snot killed my friends and nearly buried me alive. I'm down the hole already. I'm deep underground and tanning in the planet's core!"

Part of him felt bad for pushing his friend like this, given how malicious Klyntarus was, but it was necessary. They needed help, and badly.

If they can get any assistance, they need to take it.

"You're not going to like it."

"Oh, right, because the past two days have been joyous and sunshine and rainbows. Can't you see how happy I am? I'm glowing! I cracked my back; I'm shining like a glow stick," Peter huffed, hands on his waist.

He's getting more self-conscious over his weight for some reason. It's already something he hates about himself, but compared to Miguel, he appeared obese.

"Alright. Fine."

"Great."

"You're contaminated."

"And immediately, you've lost me."

"Earth-1610B. You and four others were pulled into that dimension. The Spiderman of that universe died and was replaced. I made my first autonomous universe jump a few hours afterwards. That entire universe is in quarantine now."

He's completely lost.

Miguel knew who Peter was the whole time. He's always known. He knew about the others, too.

"Alright, why's it in quarantine? Is Miles alright?"

"Miles is why it's in quarantine. The spider that bit him was never supposed to - it belonged to another universe now lacking a Spiderman. As soon as Miles got bit, that universe became unstable. Holes were torn in the multiverse, and people are falling through - we call them anomalies, and our job is to put them back where they belong. Miles is designated as the original anomaly."

"That's a whole lot of information."

"I said it's a rabbit hole!"

"There's a rabbit hole, and then there's an entire tunnel system. I mean, it's not Miles' fault that he got bit! It was those Alchemex idiots. He shouldn't be treated as some "anomaly" for that!"

"That's not the only reason. It's also because he might be... compatible."

"What? Compatible with what?"

Peter already knew the answer, but he didn't want it. Not the kid.

Miles was a good kid. He didn't deserve that level of burden on his shoulders. He's just a kid!

"If Klyntarus realises that there's someone else he can use, someone that can't fight him off, the kid won't stand a chance. He'll already know about the situation with you and the others. We... deliberately avoided you so he wouldn't catch on. All of your universes have been quarantined unless there's an anomaly."

"And the goop himself became an anomaly in my universe."

"I grabbed him as he tried to escape through one of the holes Earth-1610B tore. He's been much harder to track because of those holes. He's a slippery bastard."

"Your watch thingy is broken; you can't call anybody, but you were alone when you came through."

"I've been putting together a Spider Society - they voted on the name; I think it's stupid. Spiders from different universes support each other and provide help if Klyntarus or another anomaly shows up. And I came alone because... I wasn't going to repeat a mistake."

Miguel pressed his back against the wall and slid down, sitting awkwardly.

It felt like an interrogation, but Peter didn't mean that. He wanted answers about this utter clusterfuck.

How is he supposed to feel?

None of this is Miles' fault, of course. It's not fair. While he didn't know about the spider, it's still not Miles' fault. He hated that Miles had to be alone because of that vicious slime.

If it weren't for Klyntarus, so much would've never happened.

The idea of a spider society sounded incredible, and Peter wanted to dive headfirst into it. He hadn't been allowed to because of something nobody could've foreseen or controlled.

Except for Kingpin, obviously; that's his fault.

Peter sat beside the younger spider, feeling bad since it visibly weighed on him.

"I'm going to guess that you weren't alone last time," Peter said, keeping his tone soft and non-accusatory.

"It was early on. There wasn't a lot of us, only a small team. Ten spiders, including me. They all died," Miguel sighed, sounding a little detached, possibly a sign of disassociation. "I decided to bring them, and ten universes suffered; I wasn't going to let that happen again."

How many people has he lost to that evil slime? The stress of enduring all of that must be horrible.

How much has Klyntarus taken from him? All because he was compatible?

Peter couldn't imagine how lonely that was.

"You went after him on your own?"

It's not a question, though his voice made it sound like that. It didn't feel right for this to be happening. How can someone be carrying all of this on his shoulders alone?

That's how it is as a lone Spiderman, though. You're all alone, lost in a sea of web and tragedy.

The mere concept of a Spider Society was almost a glimmer of hope. It gave them a chance at community, to be with others like them. People that understood the burden that they carry.

"That's how it always is and how it should be. When people try to "help" me, they die, Parker. You and MJ are in danger now, and that'll never go away; he'll always wait to break you, no matter how far you think you are. And that's because I failed. Again."

Depression is a bitch to live with. It's a physical piece of you that doesn't go away, only going briefly dormant.

Peter spent a while dealing with it alone. He was isolated, depressed, miserable and tired of everything. Meeting Miles kicked him up the butt and made him feel alive again.

At least he had somebody.

"You don't want anyone to help because they'll die."

"They always do. I failed to kill him, and now all of you are in danger."

"You never intended on surviving that bomb."

"If it means killing him, I don't care."

Peter is picking up PTSD, depression and possible suicidal ideation. That's not great.

It's possible that Peter could repay what Miles did for him. Help somebody, offer a hand while they're drowning in nothingness.

His friend was alone, and Peter knew how suffocating that could be.

"I care."

"You shouldn't."

"Too bad, kid."

"Don't you dare start the age card with me!"

"My knees pop like bubble wrap. I earned my age card."

"If you call me a kid, I'll call you old man."

"Sounds like a deal."

"No!"

The mood was lightened; the true power of Spiderman!

"I'm already fat. Being called old is sprinkles on the ice cream."

"Estás obsesionado con la comida."

"It would've been great if I paid attention to Spanish in college."

He was busy falling asleep in class and swinging everywhere at night.

"At least you got to go to one."

"Motherfucker, you built a watch that takes you to other dimensions but never went to college?"

"Didn't go to any school. My "father" kept me locked in a basement for my childhood."

That explained a lot.

Everything about this guy was just miserable. His universe sucked.

"Fuck that guy."

"Yeah. Was it any good? College."

"Honestly? Waste of time."

"Good to know I didn't miss anything."

MJ opened the door, probably having been listening to them.

She came in and awkwardly shuffled beside Peter, laying her head against his shoulder.

They're in a messed-up situation. Somehow, they'll stop interdimensional splooge with as few casualties as possible. It sounded much easier than it was.

That sludge was infecting people, jumping like a virus to survive. They need to find him and burn him.

Also, they need to fix Miguel's funky watch. Despite his reservations, they need help.

"I shouldn't have sat down," MJ huffed, regretting her choice. "Can you boys help me?"

"Yeah, I'll carry you," Peter sighed, emotionally drained. "Don't stress yourself, MJ. We got this. Don't we, buddy?"

"You're overly optimistic."

"And you're a negative Nancy."

"My name isn't Nancy."

"It's a saying, dude."

"If it's because of the alliteration, it's a stupid saying."

"Both of you shove it before I take off my slippers," MJ chastised, annoyed.

MJ's the boss of the trio, as well as the mini-MJ.

Honestly, Peter wasn't confident about anything. He felt useless, regardless of his endeavour to help.

She wasn't safe in this house anymore, and that hurt. What father couldn't protect the mother of his child?

"We need to get you somewhere secure," Peter said, wrapping his arm around her. "It's gonna be dicey for a bit."

"We'll find something. I've got faith in you."

At least he has that.

#ao3 refugee #across the spider verse #atsv #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #spiderdads #bestie goals mj #oscar isaac is miguel o'hara #with thunder comes lightning #plague of the spiderverse series

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bryngmemoney · 4 months

Text

$ BRYNG ME MONEY

:|: BRYN :|: SHE/HER :|:

★ I’m 16 (don’t be weird pls)

★ spanish & english speaker (🇲🇽)

★ only make jjk content

★ idc what ur age is just pls don’t be a weirdo

freak (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

★ credit to cafekitsune for all dividers i use in

SMAU

★spotify link

𝐃𝐍𝐈 - racist , sexist , homophobic, if u have a problem with me just pls save us both the trouble and move on

☻ Links to help out ☻

one click helps every 24 hrs

medical aid for palestinians

NAVIGATION

(not taking requests right now srry)

♱ONESHOTS♱

none yet

♱SMAU SERIES♱

Fashion Flirt ★ model!megumi fushiguro x fashion student!reader [art college au]

Screensaver ★ streamer!ryomen sukuna x video editor!reader

╭────┈ ↷

│ ✎┊ additional information about me

│╭────────────╯

││• ISTP

││• kins: stan marsh, marceline, yujj, miles

morales

││• oct. 31 birthday

││• scorpio

││• fave genre rap

││• i love megan fox

││• still in love with cash carti

││• favorite movies: jennifer’s body, dead poets

society, MFKZ, Girl, Interrupted, mid 90s,

venom, both spiderverse, back to the future

mulan, big hero 6

││• favorite shows: jjk, saiki k, nana, criminal

minds, south park, teen titans (2003), HxH

││• guys can u tell i like movies

││• i like doing pilates they’re fun

││• fav foods: anything spicy, pop rocks, fruits,

mangonadas, horchata

││• i’m pescatarian

│╰─────────── · · · · ✦

ok that’s it thx sm for reading :3 hope you enjoy!!

#✮bryn’s corner

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arosesstorm · 2 years

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Hello!!! may I please request a alec lightwood x gn!reader where he gets jealous when someone is flirting with the reader and he gets possessive?? thank you for this! ♥️

-ahhh I hope you enjoy this, I think I kinda diverted a bit, but jealous Alec is priceless so hopefully I'll write something more angsty next time; thanks for the request it was fun to write <;3

Jealousy Contest - Alec Lightwood

words count: a few

gender neutral reader! x Alec Lightwood

warning: jealous Alec

summary: as soon as Sebastian Verlac crossed the institute's doors Alec knew he brought nothing but trouble, but not for the reason everyone may be thinking...

English is not my first language loves, trying my best, enjoy :)

As a good writer would write, it all started when a Ravener demon decided to take a walk around New York.

It was a normal evening, like any other at the institute when the news came and the Lightwood-Harondale trio was sent to solve the problem; their usual partners, y/n and Clary, were busy running after a Shax demon (something y/n hated as much as doing laundry) two blocks too far away to be involved.

"I just don’t feel good about this" Alec mumbled, slowly making his way towards an ally, bow raised in front of him as his steps were careful.

"We follow orders, Alec" Jace sighed "he’s right big bro and-" a sudden turn to the left "it’s not like y/n and Clary are not capable of defending themselves" Izzy finished.

"I still don’t believe it’s a good-", but he didn't get to finish; the loud cry of a man interrupting him mid sentence.

The three immediately felt the sudden urge to run as Alec’s feet guided him: he turned around the corner, to the right, to the left, to the right again, and there he stood, the blood in his veins dry: y/n was on the ground, a cut as long as Jace’s blade on her left side, but it didn’t belong to a blade, its darkish spots of venom visible as the Ravener stood in front of her, ready to go for another hit.

Someone was with her and it was not Clary.

The figure stood forward, a blade as shining as the moon was in his hand as he cut the demon’s feet.

The beast crying in agony as it fell forward, knocking the stranger to the ground.

"Alright, now I am angry" he heard y/n mutter as their will helped them on their feet again, a tight hand pressed on their side, they were trying to show as little pain as possible.

It took a second, he didn’t have the time to process, as he saw them took a couple of daggers from behind their back, their hands holding the weapons tightly as they threw themselves at the beast.

As soon as the daggers sinked into the demon’s stomach, Alec’s harrow hit the creature in its head, its body falling still on the ground as he saw them turn towards him.

The daggers falling to the ground as he heard them chuckle: "I can’t keep doing your work Lightwood" and he watched, horrified, their body falling to the ground, eyes shocked as they landed in the arms of the stranger.

What Alec found out later was that the stranger in question, was a shadow hunter, worse, he was a man: Sebastian Verlac was his name and he was far from being discrete.

It was obvious the guy had a crush on y/n, he saw it from the way his eyes followed their figure every time they left a room, or how he would make sure to have breakfast at their table every morning, a stupid grin on his face when they laughed.

It started to be very ridiculous and Alec himself for some strange reason was starting to get sick of it.

When he entered the training room that afternoon, he felt himself roll his eyes.

Y/n and Sebastian were training in a way it looked more like flirting.

He touched them in ticklish spots, his words a continuous tease, his eyes a staring mess.

Alec coughed, hard, which got their attention, eyes shooting his way.

Sebastian was quick to react, his eyes kindly drifting back to y/n, "guess I’ll go, I’ve won enough for today", y/n’s quick remark "ah! You wish"as the blond made his way towards the door Alec felt the sudden urge to punch him.

"I want a rematch then" Sebastian said, smiling, before disappearing into the institute’s many corridors.

Y/n’s eyes were back on Alec as he came forward, "you look pissed" they stated as he took two training sticks from the weapon’s section.

"How about we train?" He asked, his eyes sharp as he threw one in y/n’s direction.

"Alright serious boy" they snorted grabbing the stick, legs in position.

He was the first to come forward, his legs strong as he aimed for y/n’s stomach but they were quick to stop him halfway.

Alec seemed determined as he came forward again, a shot for their shoulder, they dodged, a aim for their leg, they stopped him again as y/n pushed the stick back to Alec’s face.

"More than pissed I guess", Alec chuckled darkly as he turned into position "this is called training" he spat, his gray shirt sticky on his torso.

Y/n felt like giggling "what is going on with you?", "how about a hand to hand?" Alec replied, kicking the stick aside as you followed his moves, not failing to see his hands were trembling.

"Something was in your latte this morning" y/n teased as Alec pushed himself forward, a hand flying in the air as they dodged his punch "actually, I go for black coffee" his body as stiff as a log.

He tried to take y/n down again, legs following his moves swiftly, this time he got a open shot as he grabbed them by the shoulder, his arms wrapping around their throat as he held tight behind their back.

"This is called winning" he slowly loosed the grip, as y/n’s eyes lightened with amusement "so you’re jealous".

"What?" He asked, coming to the front again, his eyes everywhere but on them, "you really are jealous" y/n couldn’t help but laugh as the man was clearly uncomfortable.

"As future head of the institute, it is my duty to show you how to properly train" Alec was quick to react, his eyes finally meeting y/n’s as they softly smiled.

"Sure, future head of the institute, this is clearly what this is all about".

"It is."

Y/n sighed: "How about a rematch?" They asked.

"Can’t, gotta go" Alec replied quickly, his legs taking him as far away from y/n as possible.

"Don’t go make a scene to Sebastian too!" Y/n laughed as Alec cursed under his breath, hurting to disappear, maybe, if he left quick enough, it would have been as if nothing happened.

Y/n felt themselves softly smiling: "Head of the institute? More like lover boy".

mia

masterlist

#imagine #fanfic #netflix #alec lightwood x reader #alec shadowhunters #alec lightwood imagine #alec ligthwood #alec lightwood bane #magnus x alec #alexander lightwood #shadowhunters rp #shadowhunters tv #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters edit #shadowhunters #shadow hunters #shadowhunters imagine

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illylli · 2 years

Text

Bite My Tongue (Pt. 1) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ Eddie’s never felt so enamoured with someone before he met you. The only problem is, your heart’s already spoken for. Still, the Dungeon Master of Hellfire Club has a plan to keep you close, even if he can’t have you.

→ 3k words: includes mentions of drug use, unrequited love (or is it?), sneaky touches

→ a/n: I’m hoping to make this into a multi-part series, so please comment if you’d like more + message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist. this is also my first fanfic so please feel free to send me any writing advice you have x

♫ mood: ‘no other heart’ by mac demarco

→ read part 2 | → read part 3

Eddie Munson doesn’t do flustered.

He doesn’t have time for dumb crushes, heart palpitations, or anything of the like. He had always scoffed at the heart-eyed, body-floating, jaw-dropping interpretations of attraction. The dramatization of which filled his ears with static as late-night cartoons hummed on the TV, the off-switch neglected while he greened out, having pushed the limit once again.

It was at such times that he felt dauntingly lonely. He flirted with just about anyone who spent more than 5 minutes with him, to feel something, anything. It was not for lack of wit which danced on his silver tongue that he failed to sway both women and men alike into growing fond of him. He would give up the chase before it began.

Maybe he’d set his standards too high. He was a secret lover of romance; he managed to convince the Hellfire Club not only into hosting a plethora of romantic subplots in their campaigns, but also that it was of their own accord and totally not planned out in detail prior by their Dungeon Master.

Still, he had yet to meet anyone who made him feel a fraction of the excitement that surged through his veins whenever the dice rolled in favour of a kiss. Fiction was far superior to reality, so much so that his mind was steeped in unrealistic expectations of perfectly timed confessions and sweeping romantic gestures.

He always searched for a secret beauty hidden amongst the rowdy bar crowd when he was strumming epic riffs for Corroded Coffin. His eyes always scanned the cafeteria for someone interesting to fall for. Time and time again, not a soul caught his eye, at least not in the way he was yearning for.

Which is why a mundane interaction in the Hawkins High parking lot caught him so off guard it had him rethinking his entire outlook on life.

“Eddie,” His name said in a huff, like a passing thought.

He had turned, a smirk already tugging the corners of his mouth, ready to exude cool indifference to whatever half-assed insult was about to be lugged his way. Instead, he felt his limbs go rigid as you stepped into his space, soft fingers following the curve of his ear as you tucked his hair back.

“You dropped your joint.”

“Yeah?“ He was stunned from the sudden contact, but more so from the fact that your touch had caused his eyes to start burning.

He reached up, tapping the twisted edge of the paper, then, so stiffly he thought you’d perhaps injected him with paralysing venom, he gave you a two-finger salute.

“Appreciate it, sweetheart.”

You gave a single nod, your textbooks clutched under taut knuckles. “Sure.”

With that you’d turned heel, and Eddie stood there like an idiot, crowds of people brushing past him as he watched your jock boyfriend open the car door for you, clicking open and closed, engine revving, reverberating in his heart, until he was left in the wake of burnt rubber and swirling dust clouds a changed man.

It didn’t make sense. You were nondescript, you were another face in the crowd, another hand raised in class, hidden behind the gossamer of the everyday.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n)?”

Dustin looked unimpressed when Eddie had suggested the idea of gauging your interest in joining the club.

Eddie crossed his arms, knowing he could pull off nonchalance better than anyone else, yet his heart still hammered, reminding him he was not immune to the mention of you yet. “You know her?”

“Of course,” Mike interjected as he slid into the seat beside the two, his lunch tray clattering. “She’s always hanging out with Nancy.”

Eddie realised he was gnawing on his bottom lip when the two boys narrowed their eyes at him. He gave a little drumroll on the lunch table, hoping to distract them with the flourish of a newspaper. He cleared his throat as he straightened out The Weekly Streak, eyes darting to the place on the page he’d kept coming back to.

“In the Dead of the Night, chapter forty-two by (Y/n) (Y/l/n)…”

By the time he’d finished reading the story aloud, Mike and Dustin at least looked half interested.

“He going on about that newspaper chick again?” Gareth sighed as he took a seat, getting comfy as he reached for his juice box.

Eddie seized it first, holding it just out of reach as Gareth snatched for it.

“An astute observation, my friend, but surface level,” he placed the juice box down with a thump and flung an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close, his voice lowered, “You know I wouldn’t invite just anyone into Hellfire, so think a little with that great big brain o’ yours,” he nuzzled a knuckle against Gareth’s temple and he wriggled in Eddie’s grip.

“I don’t know,” he scrunched up his face.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Eddie raised a hand to the ceiling, fingers outstretched as he punctuated each word as he said “Year. Long. Campaign.”

“Impossible,” Jeff’s greeting was one of awe as he sat down, “There would be too much ground to cover. No one person can handle campaign that big.”

“Ding ding ding,” Eddie clapped succinctly, his excitement growing, “Though your assumption is humbling, it is correct. For such a grand journey, we’d need another master writer. Someone-“ Eddie tapped on your column in the newspaper, “who knows how to weave a narrative. Attention to detail, characters, subplots. She’s the one.”

Mike and Dustin looked at each other after taking in Eddie’s beaming façade.

Mike shrugged. “I can ask her if she’d be interested, next time she’s over my house.”

“No, no,” Eddie shook his head animatedly, “No. Wheeler, you have the charisma of a damp towel. I need to be there to convince her.” He pointed a ring-clad finger at the boy, “You call me as soon as she shows up and I’ll be there.”

Gareth perked up at Eddie’s enthusiasm. “There something we should know?”

Eddie gripped Gareth’s shoulder, just hard enough to be slightly threatening. “Only that you’re all about to be treated to the best damn adventure of your lives.”

Mike’s call came later that afternoon, passing on the information that you and Nancy had made a peculiar stop before going home. The ring of the landline echoed in Eddie’s head as he pulled out of the trailer park, his palms sweaty against the steering wheel of the van.

He wanted out of his mortal body. If he could’ve separated heart and soul, he would have, so that he could focus on the task at hand without freaking himself out.

What if you said no? What if you said yes? Why did he care?

He’d never gone so out of his way to recruit someone to Hellfire before, and maybe, if he allowed himself to admit it, it was because he was chasing that high only your touch had been able to give him.

Despite being surrounded by drugs in his tailer, he’d never been tempted to overindulge. He wasn’t an addict. But one close encounter with you and he was itching for his next hit. Suddenly the romance novels all made sense, and things that had never clicked before were falling into place, the once-obscured coming into view.

It was painfully cliché. He wanted to pull the steering wheel and wake up from whatever dream this was. But as he pulled up at the arcade, he felt that strange bubbling still within him, like he truly had woken up. He could see you through the window if he squinted, the class reflecting the sunset over your form. Nancy was nodding politely to whatever you were saying, though she looked out of place, much too mature for such a setting.

Eddie hopped out of the van, the chain on his wallet clinking as he approached the entrance. The door squealed on its hinges, but was immediately drowned out by the chatter and loud music, all out of sync as each machine carried its own game theme.

Nancy’s eyes followed the darting pinball as you attempted to rack up your points, but her gaze went smoothly from top to bottom.

Nancy gave you a tight smile, “Should we head back to mine and get started on brainstorming your next chapter?”

“Good idea,” you replied, your feigned up-beat tone fooling no one, including Nancy.

Eddie thought it a good moment to swoop in and save her from needing to say something peppy to pry you from the machine.

“This one taken?”

You blinked up at him, a slight frown forming in the split second before you realised who it was.

“We were just leaving,” you announced, taking a step away and motioning like you were offering up a gift.

“Y’know, it’s all about the timing,” he said, slipping a quarter into the slot. The pinball machine lit up again, a tinny jingle sounding as the balls were loaded up. Eddie’s rings clacked against the side as he waited patiently to launch the first one into the arena.

You hovered closer to him as you watched him flip the ball expertly, hitting the bumpers with ease to allot him more points.

Nancy exhaled loudly, drawing your attention.

“What’re you girls doing here anyway?” Eddie asked casually, trying to stall for time. “Didn’t take the illustrious journalist-writer duo for a bunch of arcade dwellers.”

He viewed your downtrodden expression in the reflection of the pinball machine glass.

“A bad case of writer’s block,” you revealed, “I thought, I don’t know, the excitement might spur something within me. But nope. Turns out the only thing evoked today was the truth of how bad I am at pinball.”

Eddie chuckled, the screen lighting up with an impressive score as he finished his playthrough. “I’d take future bestselling author over future pinball champion any day.”

He felt his soul go gooey as he watched your smile grow in the glass reflection.

“If only a person could be both,” you teased, then turned as Nancy called your name from the door, where she was now waiting.

Eddie caught your arm before you could leave, and immediately regretted it, meeting your eyes in a stomach-churning instant. He forgot how to talk for a few seconds, his brain lagging behind his hard-beating heart.

“Listen, (Y/n),” he started, balling his fist to rest on the machine as the lights went out, “I uh…” He met Nancy’s gaze and she rolled her eyes, but exited with a good-natured smile on her face. “Why don’t you play one more round? I could teach you a few pointers before you leave. Take a crack at that writer’s block with some healthy ego stroking?”

You took position as he fed the machine another quarter, grinning as you asked, “What, are you going to be my cheerleader?”

He watched in the reflection as your smile fell, mouth parting as he slid his hands over yours, wishing and hoping and goddammit, even praying that his touch had the same effect on you as yours did on him.

“You paying attention?” He whispered as the pinballs were loaded onto the spring. You nodded silently, and Eddie could feel your back brush against his chest with each breath.

As the first ball fell towards the flippers he tensed, pressing down onto your fingers and subsequently the right button, flicking it back up and into a route that had your score shooting up. You let out an elated sound, something between an unbelieving scoff and an amused giggle. It had him reeling.

“Watch out,” he laughed, “Right there. That’s it.”

As the score went up so did the stakes. Both of you could see it was fast approaching the high score. Eddie didn’t stop encouraging you, and he could tell with each spoken word that he was bolstering you.

“Good girl,” he coaxed, “Keep going. Just a little more.”

He felt every jolt of your body as you anticipated the silver ball’s movements, so engrossed in the game that as he eventually removed his hands, you were still able to mimic his technique to perfection.

He could already tell that you’d work well together.

“You’re a quick learner,” he praised as you released an elated sigh at the new high score that flashed on the screen.

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with a new energy. “You’re a good teacher.”

He tapped a hand against the machine as it went into idle mode once more. “At pinball, maybe, but I could use a few pointers on some other things…”

You shook your head, knowing this had to be leading somewhere, but you still humoured him, “Other things?”

“Well, you know,” He threw a hand up, counting off each finger as he started, “How to put on eyeliner without looking like a racoon, how the hell taxes are supposed to work, how to write a wicked story…” He drew out the last word, his last counted finger wiggling as you smiled.

“Did Nancy put you up to this?”

Eddie took a step forward as he crossed his heart. “I have a vision for the future of Hellfire, but I’m gonna need your help to get it there.”

“That’s the roleplaying game you play, right?”

“Pretty much,” Eddie confirmed, “Dungeons and Dragons. DnD.”

“I don’t get it,” you admitted as you picked up your bag, “You have to write a story to play it?”

Eddie followed you as you made your way to the door. “There are pre-written campaigns with their own lore, but I’ve always wanted to delve into writing original storylines. Only problem is, it takes a lot of work. Lots of writing, character design, you’d know how it is since you write those stories for the school paper.”

“Okay,” you pushed the door, the arcade’s bubble of noise being shut in as it drifted closed behind you, “So… you want me to join?”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Eddie slipped out in front of you, causing you to halt. “I know you’re the busiest person in school next to Wheeler, so I wouldn’t ask you to play. I’d just… appreciate some help with the story. Your writing is really, really good. I mean, honestly, I got chills reading those horror stories you posted last Halloween.”

“Really?” you glowed.

“Really,” Eddie answered.

It was the truth. He had enjoyed those stories, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the school newspaper in general until that fateful day you’d tucked his joint behind his ear and he was compelled to learn everything about you.

He’d hassled some nerd who worked at The Weekly Streak into lending him a copy of every newspaper that had come out since last October, and in the span of a couple days he’d binged all your work, through which he’d picked up on your style and quirks. He supposed that he’d learnt an integral part of who you are from the pieces of yourself you chose to reveal through your characters and stories.

Still, he wanted to learn more; he wanted to learn exactly how you’d managed to distil pure electricity into those soft hands of yours. He wanted to know how a person managed to fit the whole world into their eyes.

“So,” He fought the embarrassing urge to pout, “You in?”

You glanced between him and Nancy, who was tapping her fingers against the steering wheel of her car.

“I should say no,” you admitted. He knew why: your boyfriend certainly wouldn’t like the idea.

“But you will say…?”

“Maybe.”

Eddie huffed, pushing his tongue against his bottom teeth.

“Say yes,” His eyes flitted up to yours, “Please.”

You could tell he wasn’t used to asking for favours. His arms were folded behind his back and he was swinging on his heels. Eddie could scarcely believe he would sink as low as pleading, but he had never been more determined for something in his life now that he’d set his sights on you.

“Fine,” you spoke quickly, conscious of how long you’d made Nancy wait, “But Chance can’t know.”

“Chance?” He spoke aloud, but it clicked in his brain and he nodded. “Your boyfriend.”

“Eddie,” you raised your brow at him, “Seriously. If he found out-“

“Hey, my lips are sealed.” He even made the gesture of zipping them closed and throwing away the key.

You nodded, “Good. Then I’ll see you at my place, Friday night.”

Nancy smirked as you finally entered her car, and she said something that had you hiding your face in your hands. Eddie turned away then, knowing he’d only pick apart every miniscule expression for anything negative and be persuaded by his interpretation to call the whole thing off.

As soon as he slid into the driver’s seat of the van he took a deep breath, checked his side mirror to see that Nancy had pulled out, then shook himself out let a wet dog, expelling all the nervous energy that had pooled in his body.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled to himself, turning the key in the ignition, “It’s happening, it’s happening.”

He was so ecstatic for the rest of the day, his uncle asked if he was high when he got home.

→ message me to be added to the taglist for this fic and/or character → comments & reblogs are super appreciated as it encourages me to post more → please do not repost any of the art or writing in this post, thank you!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #my work #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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