#writing this felt like the equivalent of hate sex

[carnal-lnstinct]

Greedy.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ( afab ) Content: M / 18+. MINORS DNI.  au. monster fucking. Heian Era Sukuna. corrupted concubine!reader. oral - female receiving. anal. double penetration ( V+A ). overstimulation. size difference. tummy mouth stuff. referenced virginity loss Warning: ( explicit language, light degradation, implied prior noncon in the past ) insp.

‘You have never used this on me.’ The thought crosses your mind as your curiosity becomes action. Your role has gotten to a place where touching him without permission is expected. His own curiosity wins to see what his timid concubine does at her leisure. He watches as human hands smaller than his tickle the skin across his abs. Your fingers trace a seam of what could be referred to as lips. The tightly shut mouth loosens under your inquisitive touch, skin pulling back to reveal the large set of teeth. 

Frightful, disgusting, so much so you couldn't look away at its reveal. You were frozen in place for a moment at the comparison between your fingers and the ivory bite grinning at you. Yet, as with all other monstrous parts of Ryomen Sukuna you've faced, you could only force yourself to quickly get used to it. Like a good concubine— His favorite concubine. Anxieties quickly turned into curious courage so as not to offend the monster you served.

You could scream, you could cry, you could beg, and apologize ‘til you lost your voice, but there was no dread like that of angering the King of Curses. You’ve seen enough servants perish for lesser offenses, but offenses nonetheless.

But maybe in your current headspace, you just wanted to beat yourself to the punch. Tempt your fate and familiarize yourself with a piece of his body that's yet to be disciplined into your routine. It was only a matter of time before you were acquainted with this second mouth of your cursed master for his entertainment. Accustomed to just the one, you couldn’t help but wonder aloud about this other.

“Have you used this on the concubines before me?” Eyes staying low out of fear of looking away from the sharp teeth.

With an amused hum, Sukuna answers. “Yes.” That confirms your thoughts but also shakes your courage as he parts the teeth, revealing the heavy tongue that falls out over the bottom fangs. How many dispensable women stared down this maw before you and didn't walk away, you wonder. “Are you scared?” Your eyes glance up to see how he leered down at you, tilting his head softly with a sinister, yet contained snicker. 

You are always afraid of him, tensing at his grasp and stilling yourself when his fingers brush your cheek until you allow yourself to breathe again. Could you admit you were on edge more than usual? Your hands withdrew further from his body, fingers tucked against your palms.

“It’s terrifying…” You speak, however your voice is clear and steady. Instincts should tell you to back away from it entirely.

Yet, your hands return to the skin of his “lower lip” which surprises Sukuna. The heat breathing out from his monstrous hole was as unnatural as expected, whether it was just the nature of his deformed figure or the vast amount of raw cursed energy in his body. It warmed your skin, just like his kiss. Those hot, parted lips pressed to your mouth and his intruding tongue snuffing out your subdued willpower like it’s nothing. Your entire body would just ignite like an innate high cursed upon you since birth, obedient to the King of Curses until you die. The thought alone swells those sensations inside you, giving life to the venturesome concubine that intrigued him. Your fingers actively brush over the sensitive edge of the large tongue, and then its slick center as it presses into your touch to the tip.

You brought your face closer, lips parting to allow your own tongue to hang and return the licking gesture to the large appendage. The contact burned a dark color into your cheeks, your mind feeding into the delusion that your eagerness could allow you to fit the tip in your mouth if you tried. It was just as you presumed of it, despite its appearance this second mouth was just like any other month, a tongue like any other tongue. Commitment to your impulsive act shattered, however, the heavy taste of iron on it making you withdraw. A thin string of saliva held on between you and the monstrous tongue until it snapped to your chin.

Sukuna could convince many concubines to act as boldly as you have for the sake of their lives, but not like this. None of them were crazy enough to lick that tongue, and certainly not because they wanted to. His eyes widened at your behavior, a rush of heat finding him from the contact as well. You are so different from the others. Always careful of your words and normally hesitant to act without permission, but then you will suddenly do wild shit like this unprovoked and it turns him on every time. And he’s well aware it is something he has awakened inside you. 

You raise your eyes to him briefly before looking away, shifting backward to sit up on the bed in front of him again and gently rubbing the back of your hand across your lips to clean your mouth and poorly hide the shade of color in your cheeks. The Cursed Man squints at you trying to crawl yourself back into your meek shell, the way you think he wants you to be. As if there wasn’t a heat brewing between your legs and ready to run over.

“Please forgive me, Lord Sukuna…” You slightly bow your head. “I-I don’t know what came over me..”

Tsk. “How annoying. If you are going to commit to your disturbed antics then do it, don’t keep apologizing for ‘em if I don’t tell you to stop.” 

You raise your eyes to his chin as he speaks, habitually avoiding direct contact with his eyes as you nod obediently. But something else catches your line of sight making you lift your eyes higher. “...Lord Sukuna.” He hummed in response still looking down at you. “Your face is…flushed,” Sukuna grunted as it was pointed out. You’ve never seen him blush before. “…Did you enjoy that?” Both mouths were tightly shut against the accusation, feeding more into the truth of it. You bring yourself closer to him again, hands braced against the top of his thighs as you are between his legs now and your head tilted back to continue looking up at him. “Has no one done that before?”

“...No..” He answered honestly, his intense gaze looking back down at you. An unusual sense of pride grows in you at that. You had the impression every act you’ve performed for your Master was just a repeat of something he had with concubines before you. You only know what he's taught you to satisfy him. A first for you both emboldened you more. Gentle hands brush over his tatted chest, your gaze lowered the the black design around his shoulders and pecs.

“It tastes like blood. But I-” A hitch in your breath feeling one of his large hands smooth the curve of your ass to your lower back, making you lean further into his chest.. “...I like the way it feels.”

You’re not subtle. Those pleading, yet avoidant eyes saying more than your words. You’re embarrassed to admit your desires as you wait for your Master to understand your plea and make the move. It’s not your place to ask him for anything, you exist to please him.

 “Twisted…” Sukuna started to say in his amusement of your fragile composure. But he’s had you long enough to kill the teasing front. Enticing him for his enjoyment was your job and you’ve gotten good at it. No telling if you even realized your actions beyond your lust. A second nature to do your best and please your Master. You feel his breath on your forehead sending a wave of pleasure through you, and then his hand grasps your chin holding your head in place with just a gentle tilt back.  “—Greedy little thing…” Sukuna practically hissed before claiming your mouth.

Two hands crinkle up the fabric of your dressing and keep it over your hands as he squeezes at the exposed flesh of your rear, his third hand holding your chin in place and the fourth twisting your hair around his fingers as he holds the back of your head. You just fit in his hold like the plaything you are.

There is an underlying guilt to it when you’re worked up like this for him. Taking something from your superior when you should be giving it to him, and your fragile nerves were certain there is some form of punishment awaiting you for being so vulgar for your own pleasure instead of his. You aren’t the first concubine to endure his cruelty and selfishness to please him for their survival, you aren’t guaranteed to be his last, but perhaps you’re the first to enjoy it like this? The first to stimulate his curiosity beyond what comforts your body can provide the both of his cocks, and in exchange be allowed to crave the attention he offers for pleasure?

Perhaps now that was all you were, the attractive shell of a woman you used to be whose heart twisted and corrupted to escape the pain with this lust as a necessity to spare what remains of your sanity. Your guilt, the old broken pieces of you that did not want this but also did not want to die.  

You are just his favorite concubine now. 

Needy hands now hold onto his shoulders and knock off the loosened robe from his torso completely. As his second set of hands lifts you closer to his massive body, muffled whines vibrate in your kiss feeling the large tongue below you stir around your wet folds before moving with a sentience of its own to flick the large tip over your clit. Your entire pussy sits against his second tongue like a sweet treat while his main treats your tongue like a toy to dominate. Sukuna was willing to use the large appendage to open you up, but he refused to give you everything you wanted all at once. There is a limit to his mercy and he quite enjoyed the way you squirmed in his hold for a steady rhythm or friction between your throbbing clit and the wet limb. He felt your hands brace against his shoulders more for some leverage, desperate jerks from your hips bound in place by his stronger grip. Your struggle brings that wicked chuckle out of him, pulling his tongue from your mouth with that intense leer on you again. Your whimpers escalated.

Sukuna takes in your lewd expression with a smirk. “Greedy little concubine. I know I’ve taught you to handle more than this, it’s going to be a waste for you if you cum already.” His hand twisted in your hair grips your head back further, making sure you look into his four piercing eyes. “Your little stunt got you all worked up before I even got to have some fun, huh?” He taunts, his large hands at your hips adjusting to cradle your ass. “Animals know better…Who told you to bite off more than you can chew?”

Your face is hot, practically panting with your jaw slacked and tongue hanging like the wild beasts he likened you to. Attempting to strangle your whines at the tongue’s vigor, you try to speak. “F-Forgive m-”

“Shut up.” The large tongue brushes further inward as he spreads your cheeks open. It was all prep work and you felt like you couldn’t contain yourself. His other two hands find ways to mess you up further, a rough thumb across your nipple as he squeezes your chest and another hand wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your depraved expression on full display for his amusement. His precious concubine obediently void of words, trembling in anticipation in his hold, your lustful song filling the room. 

Getting you on both of his cocks came with such little resistance, your anxious body sliding down into his lap as he stuffs you full only stills your breath. Your sweet voice strangles in your throat again when you finally exhale. His hand releases your neck, Sukina allowing you to bury your face into his skin from the stretch inside you. The way you held him now was a means to be closer than you were, hands braced against his broad back.

As if to remind you of your place, he still doesn’t give you control of your hips. Your body belongs to him, after all. Instead, Sukuna guided every movement with you, angling you and rocking you, pulling out and filling you around the two lengths until you heard the satisfied grunt once you were flush with his lap. He could praise you for taking them both so effectively after all this time. But he just gives a toothy smirk as he steers you into his double penetration.

The less intimidating of the two nestled in the squeeze of your ass, stimulating all the nerves while the monster of the two knocked around the deepest parts of your pussy taught to embrace him. 

You keened at the pressure while he reveled in your eagerness to move on your own, denying you the freedom to bounce yourself down his cocks. Even without your rewarding tears, you still cry out in a way he enjoys when you cum suddenly. The pace doesn't change, however. You twitch and melt, and your breath is knocked out of you as he repeatedly bangs you into his lap.

“Hah!…L-Lord Sukuna. Please...” You were begging already, cushy insides still squeezing at his cocks and your sensually vacant eyes shamelessly seeking his. A plea for more of this, trembling legs trying to pull yourself even further into him. The Cursed Man chuckles darkly, proud of what he's shaped you into.

“Still greedy, girl?”

It's not like he was done with you yet anyway, but you answer him with an obedient nod. Your hanging mouth finds his on your own, kindling your fulfillment in being a plaything for the King of Curses. Your kiss slows him down for a moment and your body trembles as he sits balls-deep inside you. He lets you keep kissing him, your bliss distracting you from the change in positions until he pulls back and you're looking up at him. Down on your back with your wrists pinned down in one pair of his hands. With his hips still flush with yours keeping his cocks warm, the second pair of hands cups your knees up toward your chest.

And his relentless rutting continues. Leading from the larger while the other is just lucky to be included in the violation of this body that belongs to him.  

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (with benefits)

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count : 1,489

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: smut, p0rn with plot, a LOT of plot, angst, name calling (bitch, slut, etc.), p in v, rough x, mentions of safe word (not used), rude/cold!Chris, degration, friend with benefits, awkward, (implied) RichKid!reader, no love (😔), unprotected, creampie, no after care, no use of y/n, no oc

(A/N: this is my first ever fanfic that I’ve posted on tumblr. So ya, I’m shitting bricks. Please give me feat back on my writing, and what I can improve. Also English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it!! :D)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Ever since I can remember, I’ve known the triplets. The sturniolo’s and my family were always really close. And ever since I can remember, I’ve hated Chris.

Now, enemies was a harsh word. A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t like we were at war for opposing countries. We were more like rivals. In every aspect.

Sometimes it felt like the only reason Chris studied for school, was to beat my grade. He wasn’t really stupid, but he was definitely not book smart.

The problem wasn’t that. We’ve always lived normally, simply hating and avoiding each other. After all he was my longtime nemesis.

Until that one fateful night where we’d been at my house. My parents have a big business so they’d frequently be on business trips. And it just so happened that that night my younger siblings were not home, both of them being at their separate sleepovers with friends.

We’d been paired for some project. And naive me thought, that it’d be fine. We could be civil for a few hours. But I thought wrong. The hatred was too strong and the tension was too thick in the air.

Seemingly everything I did made him agitated. And vise versa.

Until he finally snapped and we got into a full fledged argument, wich turned into a yelling match. However it all went quiet when he crashed his lips onto mine.

Breathing heavily I had kissed back, hard. It was easier to battle about with a kiss, rather than screaming. And like hell was I gonna be dominated by Christopher fucking sturniolo.

So the night progressed. He had me, my face buried in the sheets babbling out nonsense and screaming his name. But not in anger like I usually would.

It had been months since that happened, and it still haunted me. The idea that it even happened. That his lips had been on mine, his dick literally inside of me, that I was literally under him, disgusts me to my core. But it didn’t matter. It was one of many times.

Sometimes it was a quickie, sometimes an all nighter. Sometimes Chris was dominant other times he was not. Sometimes it was at my place other times at his.

And it wasn’t like those cliché stories of friends with benefits where one fell in love. This felt more like an urge. Like neither of us wanted to actually hook up but we were irking to. This was better than having a yelling match. And on the rare occasions I was dominant it felt great making him shut up and take it. It felt equivalent to winning an argument. The whole point was to teach a lesson, and express annoyance and anger without directly doing that.

“Chris-“ I let out a sharp cry, even the pillow that my face was buried in didn’t really make the scream sound quieter.

His hips keep drilling into my core hitting all the right spots to make me weak in the knees.

Sex with him, objectively, felt good. In the moment. He knew how to please a woman. But he also knew that he was pushing it right now.

“Don’t fucking tell me to slow down.” He snaps his tone, and words as harsh as his breathing. “You have a safe word. Use it if you need to. And other wise, shut, the fuck, up.”

I only let out a sharp whine when he seems to pick up pace even more. He’s made a mess of me. We’ve been at this for hours. Literally.

I’ve come more times than I can count and Chris wasn’t showing any sign of stoping anytime soon.

My back arches perfectly, but I’ve been in this position for too long for it to be comfortable. Him leaning over my back occasionally leaving harsh slaps on my ass while his other hand stayed firmly im my hair.

His hand being tangled in my hair as he was both pulling it, but also pressing me down into the pillow under me.

I feel the ache in my cunt subside again, as a knot starts to form. I’m close, again, and I don’t know if I can keep going after.

“Chris” I scream his name loudly panting and moaning. “I’m- close” I can barely form a sentence. His thrust are hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs every time.

“Oh ya?” He harshly slaps my ass causing me to moan loudly. “How much more you think this pussy can take?” He huffs his tone ever so cocky.

He always did this. He liked being dominant and absolutely wrecking me as much as he can. And he knows I’m close to breaking, and that’s what makes it worse. I just know he gets a wired satisfaction out of exerting me.. using me, like this.

His hand stays firmly in my hair tugging harder. His other hand trailing from my ass to my clit as he starts to rub on it harshly.

I clench instinctively, my whining and moaning getting even louder. “I’m gonna-“ a harsh slap on my clit catches me off guard.

Chris keeps going. “Fucking slut. You like getting destroyed like this?” he mocks, his tone condescending as his pace doesn’t let up.

“Go on bitch, cum on my cock. Come again.” He urges. And the rubbing of his fingers on my clit and the relentless torture to my cunt is threatening to push me over the edge.

“Can I come in that pussy again?” He asks his voice coming out strained and harsh from the pleasure.

“Yes-“ I’m cut off, again. As i am physically not able to speak with the pace he’s going at.

And the combined pressure of everything pushes me over the edge. Suddenly the knot in my stomach snaps and my body goes limp after loud moans. He goes for a few more thrusts before I feel the familiar hot liquid fill my cunt.

After a minute where we catch our breaths he slowly starts to massage my scalp knowing he’s been pulling on it for at least half an hour straight.

He pulls out not really gently, but not harshly either.

Hook ups with Chris always felt like one night stands, when they were really regular.

I let my body fall limp fully laying on my stomach as I sigh, content in my position, not attempting to move.

I can practically feel Chris watching me.

Normally I wouldn’t be this much of a mess. But than again normally we didn’t go for hours. Normally Chris used a condom. But today was not one of those days.

Sometimes chris had enough common sense to at least pretend to care.

But right now he was just staring.

“You okay?” He asks his tone gentler and more quiet than usual. He knew he was pushing it, but did he really care tho?

I shiver as I feel his hand start to rub over my back. Ever so gently pinching the skin to ease some tension.

“Ya”

My breath is short as I’m still calming down not doing or saying anything else.

After a while I turn around slightly, wincing as I lay on my back. My back hurt from the previous uncomfortable position I was in.

I opened my tired eyes, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his. I knew I probably looked like a wreck right now. My hair a mess because of all the moving and position changes as well as his pulling. My face having dried mascara and tear stains on it from when I’d been crying.

I was too tired to even hide my body. I just turned around not bothering to hide my chest as I did, I was too fucked out to care.

His lips pursed, looking over my face. But he wasn’t concerned. But rather disgusted at the sight. He was glad he made me look like shit, but I could see in his eyes that he would much rather be anywhere else right now.

After sex was the worst for us.

The arguments leading up to it were normal. The sex itself was great. But afterwards…

Usually he’d leave. But today he had gone far. He’s done worse before. But every time he did he felt like he should give me proper after care. But I can see the annoyance radiating off of him, and I just know he does not want to be here.

And as harsh as it sounds, he couldn’t really care less what state he left me in. He’s told me multiple times.

“You can leave.” I mumble sighing. My throat felt horse from all the screaming, crying and moaning, that I’d been doing. I’ll need to get a water soon.

He gives me a simple nod, quickly changing, then going to my bathroom to fix his appearance.

And than he leaves.

The room is quiet. Nothing to be heard, nothing to be said.

Masterlist

A/N: hope you liked it, this was literally my first time writing smut🫣 also I don’t have a taglist yet, so i just added my moots. Tell me if u wanna be added, or removed :D

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist : @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns

[feartoxinjelloshot]

clipsverse SWAP AU! for fun! character elaboration under the cut because it gets kind of wordy:

selina's deal is pretty straightforward: she has the typical “saw parents die as a child" backstory, but she’s obviously not a millionare so she’s operating out of some kind of condemned underground parking lot... somewhere. authentic gotham grunge i guess. she’s a functioning alcoholic and i am obsessed with her. she's a hardboiled detective like batman, but tends to be a bit more cynical - sort of like if rorschach from watchmen was a normal person and also didn't hate sex. firefly is her "guy in the chair" similar to what alfred is to batman in canon, minus the surrogate parent part, obviously. public opinion is pretty split on if the bat is a man or a woman under there. i don't really have swap ideas for the robins ironed out, but i'm thinking that cass and stephanie are her robin and red hood equivalents (cass being dick, stephanie being jason). cass would have an allblack bird theme going on, so she might be "crow" or "blackbird" instead of robin. dunno what stephanie's red hood rendition is like. purple hood? i'll figure it out eventually.

bruce’s parents are alive, but he has a terrible relationship with them and with his own wealth so he mitigates the guilt complex by dressing up as a cat to steal and redistribute resources to people who actually need it. he could probably do that in daylight but there is something very wrong with him. i don't think his dumb slutty playboy persona is entirely genuine even without his parents' deaths, but he does lean into it more and incorporate parts of it into his vigilante persona over time. i think this version of bruce is just generally very lonely under the surface. he tries to be normal in his daytime life and he's very bad at it - theft aside, in a certain sense being the cat(man? woman?) is his own break for freedom; he felt a need to plunge himself far into the deep end of what normal society calls a 'freak'. ...writing it out like this, we're probably lucky he didn't start killing people. fortunately batman isn't really that kind of guy in any universe.

meanwhile on the other side of the rails: ivy! her deal is slightly unformed right now due to the fact that the hatter and the joker also swap places in this au - so the hatter is a dangerous, evil mastermind intent on controlling gotham to suit their whims, and the joker is... just a harmless silly little guy. yeah. i don't have swap-hatter's exact personality ironed out yet, so detailing his and ivy's dynamic would be difficult, but i can say that while she is his loyal second-in-command at his table of advisors, she is also plotting against him. ivy is a consistent loner in both mainline cv and here, and while she doesn't have the same tumultuous, antagonistic, emotional relationship with him as harley does with the joker, she is also frankly not interested in being his number one until the end of time. she wants to do it herself and she wants to do it right. this is an ivy who, in lieu of her own world-altering gift, is scraping tooth and nail to successfully supersede the most powerful entity she can her her hands on. the hatter is blissfully unaware of this - we can't all be perfect.

harley, for her part, is very tame in comparison. she mirrors ivy's canonical backstory pretty closely: an esteemed scientist studying stem cell relations who was denied funding, mocked, and forced to experiment on herself to prove a point, unwittingly connecting herself to a worldwide hive-mind of plantlife. this version of harley, while still dressed as a scientist, is far more surface-level emotionally volatile than mainline ivy, more impulsive and irrational, and probably willing to lean much farther into the classic poison ivy reputation as a villainous seductress, to varying degrees of honesty and success. it takes ivy an incredible degree of patience and control to maintain the mental and physical balance she strikes with the green, and this version of harley has far less of both. she lets it use her body as a conduit of earthly rage and she lets the poison infect her skin and organs until mottled and decaying. she's not unhappy, but she's not exactly stable, either.

jonathan is a mysterious, faux-sleazy lounge singer who lost his left arm to a snake bite infection as a child and thereafter became obsessed with the symbolism of the balance of life via games, tricks and questions - winning and losing, birth and death, etc. the ouroboros is a common symbol in his theatrics. he possesses a certain degree of social confidence that the mainline jonathan has never quite been capable of - while he doesn't have the same fervent need for attention as edward, he takes a compulsory delight in the mental influence he achieves on small crowds and will employ many avenues to get ahold of it. he's certainly not outgoing: he keeps almost entirely to himself offstage, uninterested in fame outside of his show persona. unlike mainline jonathan who views the scarecrow as a genuine self-inflicted diety, this jon sees his persona as more of a mantle or responsibility that he must take on in order to discover new truths about the world. like his canon counterpart he is asexual and uninterested in sex, but i imagine that he has less qualms about leading people on as an act to get what he wants from them. he's not terribly famous in his singing career, but he's become a bit of an underground legend for his resolute 1920s-inspired style and occasional genuine debonair charm.

edward in comparison is not nearly as ritualistically compelled as mainline scarecrow, but he’s far less cagey about his own machinations and his mental relationship to them: he lives in a tricked-out barn somewhere on the far outskirts of gotham, and he spends his time as a propmaster creating elaborate saw-trap-esque haunted houses and escape rooms to invoke panic in his “guests”. he wanders the halls of his own houses along with the guests, repairing and tinkering, or just scaring the shit out of them. he also makes a genuine living by making and selling cosplay props and other related objects online; he's developed a bit of an internet presence through this channel, though he's not as fixated on it as the mainline riddler would be. he still craves spectacle and attention, but he's more of a "quality over quantity" guy according to his own standards and is rarely happy with the work he creates, hence the endless roundabout of creation and reinvention.

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus is morally bankrupt and I will no longer be giving it the gift of my time or thought.

Okay, this is gonna be a long one, and VERY heated (and melodramatic ngl), and I apologize in advance if my thoughts are scattered, but I'm just ... I've been left with so many horrible thoughts since last night's update (Ep 230) and I'm realizing that I can't keep doing this.

There are comics that I love. There are comics that I used to love but have since grown to dislike due to a dip in quality or simply losing interest. And then, there are comics that have become so fundamentally awful down to their core that, when I go back to read from the beginning, I wonder how I missed the signs of these things in the first place.

And those are the comics I can't bring myself to even give attention to in any regard because it feels like I'm committing some sort of hate crime in doing so.

This is where I stand with LO. With each passing week, I grow more weary of new episodes, and I wonder if there's any point to analyzing it, critiquing it, or whatever have you when it's obvious such a feat is pointless - because there's nothing there to critique, there's nothing there to discuss, the ONLY thing that becomes more obvious with each passing week is how low Rachel is willing to stoop as a creator and as a person.

I try not to direct actual hate towards these creators. I try and focus on their writing, their art, the execution of their ideas, separate from their existence as individuals because it's how I'd want and expect people to analyze and critique my own work.

But with Rachel, it's becoming increasingly obvious that drawing that line is impossible. That "separating the art from the artist" can only apply for so long when the artist's own deeply-rooted issues are baked into the foundation of their work. It's the equivalent of trying to criticize something like Harry Potter - you can't do it without acknowledging the very anti-Semitic elephant in the room, because to do so would be turning a blind eye to Rowling's irresponsibility as a creator with a platform and the injustices she's done to the communities she's hurt in her endeavors.

For weeks now, Rachel and her circle of goons and yes men have been sneaking into our communities, into our conversations had in confidence, and implementing their own versions of "getting back" at the haters through the comic itself and through how its marketed. Almost every single social media post, video, and retconned plot point that's cropped up the last few weeks has been in direct response to things said in the subreddits, the Discord groups, the Facebook groups, everything that they don't consider "positive" enough. When we point these things out in isolation, it makes us look paranoid, but I promise you, we're taking notice of the things Rachel does and says and portrays in her work and it all adds up to be an incredibly twisted picture of her way of doubling down.

Persephone suddenly becoming Avatar: The Last Airbender? We've discussed it at length in our LO-focused circles prior to that reveal.

The sudden retcon of Eros/Aphrodite being able to "detect and control" virginity through Persephone PSA-lecturing about the "hegemony" of virginity? A direct response to people discussing the nature of Eros' powers.

The reveal that Persephone never had sex with Hades despite all the build-up that Rachel did leading up to what was obviously going to be a sex scene? A direct response to people discussing how it felt rushed for Persephone to suddenly be ready to jump in bed with Hades while showing very little growth in her healing in the actual comic.

Rachel constantly posting pics about how "hard" she's working? A response to our figuring out her buffer is 2-3 weeks ahead at any given time and she's clearly rushing things out the door.

The list goes on but I can assure you, the signs are there that Rachel reads these things and, instead of analyzing what people are saying, digs her heels in further and doubles down. We already know she's done this before, it's been stated in interviews where she's gone ahead and over-saturated character colors and made the art WORSE to 'get back' at people who criticized the comic's art style. Like I said, these things in isolation might seem paranoid, but there is a very clear history of how Rachel responds to criticism and discussion - ripping off her nose to spite her face - that goes waaay back to S1 that gives these suspicions far more validity.

She's snuck into our groups, our communities, and is absolutely violating the reader/creator dynamic. This is a woman who's tried to brigade control of FB groups away from their admins so she could micromanage them (see: Broseidon's Palace of Fishposting). This is a woman who will have her mods kick or mute anyone who shows an inkling of distaste for new episodes in her Discord and FB groups. This is a woman who's fully unapologetic in how controlling, manipulative, and downright abusive she can be towards her own audience.

We have literally had to implement new security measures in our own Discord groups in an attempt to keep her and her cronies out, and yet still it feels like there are things she's doing that are direct responses to what we've said and discussed, on a VERY specific level. And the fact that, even if she's no longer in our space, we have to worry about that sort of thing? It's an abusive reader-creator relationship that is creating paranoia in our community members and sucking the fun out of it all. We shouldn't have to fear a creator or their mods sneaking into our groups to stir up trouble. It's so incredibly invasive and disgusting and it makes me fear for our more involved users who come to our spaces for community, for acceptance, for love and support. We're not just people who trash on LO, we're people who have bonded over our frustrations for it and that's a bond that is now existing beyond LO. These are safe spaces that we've attempted to create and Rachel is feverishly violating them and attempting to rip them apart from the inside.

I'm done. I'm fucking done tiptoeing around the "separating the art from the artist" fence-sitting bullshit when it comes to how people criticize this comic and its creator. LO is a festering pool of misery and misogyny and so is its creator. I can't even be bothered to hate it, I literally do not give a shit. I'm tired of it. It's making me miserable. And it's not worth giving it my time, my energy, or my efforts anymore. Rachel does not deserve my clicks. She does not deserve my follows. She does not deserve the essays that I pour my time and heart into.

I'm not going to be reading LO any further. Not even free episodes. I will be unsubscribing from the comic. I will be unfollowing her socials. My only connection to LO at this point will be through Rekindled and the communities I've partaken in and fostered - Rachel can't destroy the friendships I've made through her work, for better and for worse, as much as she might like to try. I'm cutting off the infection at the source.

I will be answering the remaining asks that are in my inbox that pertain to LO specifically, but after that, I will no longer be devoting this blog purely to LO analysis. It's Rekindled, LO-inspired fan work, and Greek myth content only. I cannot continue to give Lore Olympus attention through my own attempts to analyze it, critique it, and partake in it, because to do so would be to continue sacrificing my own mental health and values as a webcomic consumer and creator, and giving it attention that it does not deserve. It does not deserve even a sliver of admiration or even nostalgia from me, because it has done absolutely nothing to earn it.

As for Rekindled, well. I hope you know the potential of Lore Olympus - and the part of the fandom that has been worn down and disappointed week after week after week - is mine now. I'm taking it. Rachel clearly can't be trusted with the messages and stories that this shit fire of a comic is based on. Lore Olympus is cancelled, Rachel is cancelled. I will unapologetically be hyping up Rekindled, I want it to be good and I'm going to ensure that it does what Rachel couldn't. It's the least I can fucking do for this amazing community that I've gotten to know and felt welcome and accepted in through and through. She and her work do not have any sort of relevance or control in my life anymore. She can make LO all she wants, but in my mind, it does not exist and does not deserve an inkling of attention, it belongs in the same dumpster as Harry Potter, 50 Shades/After, and Empress Theresa.

Rachel may have robbed me of my love for Lore Olympus but she cannot take what I have planned for Rekindled. When I started the comic, I wasn't doing it as any sort of flex on Rachel. I wasn't doing it to "get back" at her or to prove I could "do better". It was a fan project that I was making out of love for what once was, for what I had hoped would be LO. And it still is that - but prepare yourselves, because you're about to see a real Dread Queen arc, not of pettiness, not of unwarranted cruelty, but of justice.

It would be the height of hubris to claim that I can do anything better than another creator, but when the work that Rekindled is based on is a literal dumpster fire of misogyny, sexism, and classism, is it really so hard to make something better? Even the most bare minimum ideas and writing can accomplish more than LO has in the last 2 years at this point. Any of you could do what I'm doing, and I encourage you to do so. Let spite be your motivator. You do not need to be a contracted webcomic creator to create something that will make you happier than LO. Make your fanfiction. Make your panel edits. Create your re-tellings. I will gladly bask in them.

Rachel, I want you to know, you cannot count this as a win, as much as you likely see it as such in your mind. This is your own platform you're systematically destroying, readers who used to love you and your work who you're pushing away with your childish nonsense. The worst we'll have is losing something we like and moving onto something new. You have more to lose. You have more to be worried about as the face of this steaming pile of garbage. You are the one who's going to have to explain to Webtoons why your comic is on fire, why your fanbase is divided, why LO is one of the most dunked on comics alongside Boyfriends and True Beauty, simply because you couldn't have the humility to recognize the glaring issues in your comic and simply do better. Internalize it all you want that you think it's just because you're "popular", but I assure you, people will still despise you, your platform, and your work long after LO has ended and been replaced by the next big thing.

And I assure you, those replacements will be creating out of spite for the damage you've caused. Myself included.

May your every attempt at success and relevance from hence forward be mired by mediocrity and misery for your own putrid creations.

We'll all be doing just fine over here.

[annab-nana]

under my skin - eddie munson

summary: you and eddie have always been out to get one another from playful bickering to cut-throat name-calling. but all of that changes one night when eddie finds you at a low point at jason carver’s party and you have no one else to confide in but him.

warnings: underage drinking, family issues (a parent leaving without explanation and the other drinking away the problem), heavy use of the pet name "princess", enemies to friends, hints of suggestiveness

a/n: omg so this fic may be slightly all over the place considering i started with one idea and changed gears a lot while writing it but i think i've straightened it out for the most part so if you spot a minor plot hole or something, no you don't 😌 anyway, i never really like the first ever thing i write for someone but hopefully, you guys enjoy it :))

word count: 4.8k+

❀ masterlist ❀ 

"well, look who it is?" you heard his vexing voice speak to you when you walked by him in the hallway. eddie never could leave well enough alone when it came to you and to be honest, neither could you when he was near either. that was just how you two were.

you flipped him off in passing, the green scrunchie around on your wrist very vibrant against the white sleeve of your sweater. you heard eddie let out a humorless laugh before muttering, "real nice, princess."

the nickname was never your favorite. in fact, it really bothered you, irritating you to no end and making your blood boil. eddie, of course, knew that; therefore, he used it any and every chance he got. 

"can it, freak." that was your equivalent to 'princess' for him. you didn't like to use that term, but sometimes, it was the only thing you felt would do the most in your favor. in this instance, you felt like it would get him to shut up quicker. you were, however, wrong. eddie munson was nothing if not relentlessly loud. 

"that's the best you've got?" he challenged, speaking at a higher volume to reach you over the distance between you currently.

you turned, walking backward beside jennifer who was grinning at yours and the boy's antics. "that's all the energy i have left to spend on you for now. sorry," you told him with an unapologetic shrug and faux sincere look on your face. he couldn't get another word in before you both turned down a different hallway. you continued to take step after step next to the blonde before your eyes followed up from your slightly worn out shoes to her entertained expression. "yes?"

"nothing," she mumbled. you knew she was going to tell you. she knew she was going to tell you, but jennifer always liked to play coy.

"something," you returned knowingly before nudging her shoulder with yours to prompt her to continue. 

"just waiting for you two to drop the act and fuck already."

you gasped. "jennifer!" 

"what? the sexual tension between you two is so obvious and to be honest, based on the relationship you two have right now, just think about how good that sex would be. it would be mind-blowing!" she explained enthusiastically as if you would understand what she was saying. you hated eddie. eddie hated you. it didn't get any more simple than that. 

"ew," you started, nose wrinkled and up-turned, "ew, ew, ew, jenn. that is the most disgusting, vile thing that has ever come out of your mouth. i hope you realize i am reconsidering our whole friendship based on this information. and besides, i have my sight set on someone else." you and jennifer both caught the gaze of the one you were alluding to. arthur jacobs sent you both his charming smile and a wave when he passed which was returned by each of you. 

jennifer let out a chuckle before turning into mrs. hamilton's classroom. "i'm just saying," she told you as she took her seat in front of you. 

"well, for my sake, refrain from 'just saying' for a bit, okay?" her eyes rolled at you, and she turned forward to get started on the journal prompt that was on the board. 

"rob!" you called from one end of the hall where you were finishing up a conversation with chrissy on the pep rally coming up. being co-captain, you worked with the girl a lot, but you didn't know her too well. she was always nice to you and others from what you had seen, so in your book, she was an alright gal. 

robin stood and watched you say your goodbyes as you moved your body away from chrissy's into robin's direction. once the cunningham girl finally let you depart, you jogged over to robin who showed you her greeting grin when you caught up with her. 

"to what do i owe the pleasure?" she inquired when she fell into step with you, both of you heading for the exit. 

"i was just wondering if my favorite science partner was one for parties?" you asked in a gleeful tone. robin didn't give you party girl vibes and you weren't even much of a partier yourself, but arthur was going to be there. you wanted to try to spend some time with him there, but with the support of a friend also. jennifer would be present as well, but knowing her, she'd be all over some other guy. you loved the girl, but she was very much one who needed constant male attention. you would need someone reliable, someone present and attentive, someone who would tell you the worst-case scenario so you could prepare for it. you needed robin. 

"first of all, i'm your only science partner, and second of all, eh," she shrugged as she spoke. "whose party is it?"

you braced yourself for her to back out. "jason carver."

"mr. blond king basketball asshole. no, thank you," she spoke firm, but you were quick to beg. 

"robin, please. i need you there. we won't have to interact with jason, just rid him of all his alcohol and guess what i heard?"

"what?" she humored you. 

"that a certain little redhead would be there." robin groaned and you smiled, now knowing you had some very useful leverage. 

"how long are you planning on staying for?" she asked. 

you shrugged. "i don't know. i'm trying to get in with arthur and you can try to get in with vickie, so however long that takes."

"can i think about it?" she stopped in front of the exit to focus on you. 

"yeah, of course and if you truly don't want to go, i don't want to make you. but if you do come, i would greatly appreciate it," you explained. robin sent you a nod with a grin. 

"i'll probably tag along for a bit," she answered while pushing the door open, letting you go first. she then started in the other direction, "see you around, y/l/n!"

"bye, rob!"

your eyes began to survey the lot after robin was on her merry way home and none of the cars that you saw still hanging around—you had been at cheer practice for an hour so it was around four in the afternoon—resembled your mother's. you weren't surprised, just disappointed, but you turned around to the school phone to call home to make sure she wasn't on her way. 

it rang a couple of times and right before you were about to give up, you heard her voice saying a groggy greeting. 

"hey, i was just checking to see if you were at home." 

"yeah, did you need something?" no, you just said you would pick me up like you have for the past month and like every other day this month, you forget, but it's no biggie. everyone loves to be forgotten, right? you thought, portraying your annoyance with an eye roll she couldn't see. 

"no, ma'am. i should be home in a bit."

without a goodbye, she hung up on you. you let out a huff of annoyance before calling another number, one you hadn't tried in at least two or three weeks. as you expected, it rang through with no response, but you weren't going to remain quiet. 

"hey, dad. it's me, y/n, your daughter, in case you forgot all that since you've been gone. i, um, i was wondering when you would be back. mom thinks you left us, but you said you were just visiting grandma to make sure she was okay after the surgery. she should be fully recovered by now and mom and i need you so please, just call me back on the home phone, not this one. this one is the school's. i'll see you, hopefully."

and with that, you hung the phone up and leaned forward to rest your head against it. you really didn't want to face the reality of it all. it was plainly evident that he left you and your mother which sent her into her spiral of drinking and overworking herself. all signs pointed to it, but accepting it and letting that settle in wasn't something you were keen on doing just yet. you still held out hope even though you had every reason to believe he was never coming back. 

the sound of laughter and double doors opening pulled you away from the phone and your eyes met some of the older members of hellfire: gareth, jeff, and eddie. before a snarky remark or heinous comment could flow from the munson boy's lips, you turned on your heel and headed in the direction of your house.

"i can't believe i let you talk me into this," robin stated, vision floating around the mass of people that all crammed into the carver household. you could tell her focus was honed in on one person and when you followed her line of sight, you saw the tell-tale sign of short auburn locks. 

"you gonna go talk to her or do you need some liquid courage first?" you questioned her with wary eyes, trying to get your answer from her body language rather than garnering the patience to wait for the words. 

"the latter. i am not in a good place to talk to her sober."

"well then, follow me, ms. buckley. let's find us some alcohol." robin took your outstretched hand and let you lead the way. 

after you two were both feeling confident enough to socialize with your crushes, you talked up robin and let her go first into the sea to find her lucky catch. once you knew she was good, you sent her a thumbs-up and departed in search of your mission for the night. 

"you stalking me, princess?" your blood boiled at the sound when you ran into the brunet. 

"you wish, munson. now move," you ordered, pushing past him to move on to a new area. it felt like you had searched every damn corner of this house to the point where you could probably give a house tour better than jason could and he was the one that lived in it.

you found the stairs again and headed for the bathroom to freshen up and take a small breather from the sweaty bodies and dancing. you weren't paying attention, but you really wish you were because you opened the wrong door. the bathroom was one door ahead and you didn't realize your mistake until you were already in the room. 

hands roamed a body of someone you knew. you knew them both actually but never expected to see them together. you'd accomplished your goal of finding arthur, but you didn't want to find him like this, groping and feeling up someone you considered a pretty good friend. the worst part was that jennifer knew you liked arthur a lot and she often teased you about it just to get a reaction out of you. it was all playful, but nothing right now felt fun. it felt heavy, just like your footsteps did as you backed out of the room and moved on to go to the bathroom. 

your hands gripped onto the counter tightly. you willed yourself not to cry, your efforts proven futile as your vision blurred intensely. you felt the hot tears drop down from your eyes and saw them land into the sink below you. you weren't even that upset about arthur. it was jennifer's betrayal on top of all the other shit you had going on that really hurt you. it was like life wouldn't let you catch a break. 

and to make things even better, your favorite person in the whole wide world walked in. 

at first, he didn't recognize it was you. he just saw someone upset in the bathroom and was ready to back out until he saw who you were. then, his face grew a smirk. 

"aw, did the princess get her heart broken at some stupid high school party? so typical." he couldn't tell you were crying but did see your defeated body language. his words were just a mere guess, but every word was right on the money and hurt all the same. 

"yes, eddie, i did." you turned to show him how you were really feeling and watched him take a step back at your words. not because he guessed right and felt like shit due to it, but because you called him by his first name. it was always weirdo or freak or devil spawn or munson, but never had you called him eddie. "go ahead. make your jokes. revel in my downfall. here it is, all for you. take advantage of it. rip me to shreds. do your worst."

he remained silent as he didn't know what to say. everything you two had ever said to each other was playful—though mostly truthful—teasing and harassing one another. never was anything super serious. a part of him wanted to pull you into his arms and comfort you. another part of him wanted to beat the shit out of whoever made you upset. both parts confused him. 

"do you want some weed or something?" that's all he could think of to help. it would mellow you out and that seemed to be what you needed. 

"are you kidding me? you're trying to deal to me, munson? do i get a deal because i’m your basic girl crying in the bathroom of a party? go fuck yourself, munson," you grunted before trying to step around him. only his arms got in the way. "eddie, if you don't let me go, i swear to god, i will-"

"easy. just listen to me. you don't want to go out there right now," he shared like he knew what upset you as if he knew anything about you at all. 

"and i want to stay in here with you? ha, no thanks. i'm going home." you tried to move forward again but he stopped you again. "if you want to keep playing guitar with those hands, freak, i suggest you get them off me right now."

"at least let me drive you home," he offered, his hands leaving your skin. 

"just so you can wreck and kill me?"

"do you always have to assume the worst in me?" he countered, but you weren't backing down. 

"you've given me no reason to assume the best," you told him genuinely, "this is the only time you've been somewhat nice to me and honestly, munson, it's freaking me out."

"look, i'm heading out anyway and like you said, this is the only time i've been nice to you so why waste the opportunity?" he asked as his deep brown eyes searched your face. 

"to save my life," you answered before eddie let out a dry chuckle. 

"you never stop, do you?"

"you're the one offering to deal with me for longer."

eddie rolled his eyes and opened the door. you kept your head down low while eddie led the way, a hand on the small of your back to guide you. before you'd escaped into the night air, eddie told steve to tell robin that you felt sick and were going home. steve wore an odd look as he eyed you two, but seemed to accept it. 

you knew which vehicle was eddie's and made a beeline for the van. the quicker you could be home the better, but the longer you thought on it, you didn't really want to go home. there was so much anger and sadness at your house. you didn't need any more of that on your mind. you used to be able to escape to jennifer’s on occasion but that was out the window too. so where could you go?

"where do you live, princess?" eddie inquired once he got in the driver’s seat to your left. you winced at the nickname.

"for tonight, could we lay off the princess nickname please?" eddie nodded while starting up the engine. you looked out the window while he sat contently looking at you. you turned to face him when you realized he wasn't taking off and asked, "what are you looking at?"

"you never answered my question."

"oh, i live on mulberry near where it intersects with cherry oak."

"alright," eddie breathed out the response while beginning to pull out onto jason carver's street, "do you want to go home, like actually?" your eyebrow raised at his inquiry and begged for further explanation which eddie soon provided. "it's just," he sighed, "i know you wanted out of the party, but you don't really seem eager to get home. do you want me to take you somewhere else?"

"can we just drive around for a little bit?" the way your voice sounded weaker at the end of your question had eddie agreeing immediately. he wondered what it could be at home that was so bad you'd offer to stay longer with someone you heavily disliked and something unfamiliar settled in his stomach. he didn't know what it was to begin with, but he soon realized it was worry. he was worried for you and he didn't know why. 

he continued to drive mindlessly around hawkins while you turned back to the window. 

"do you want to talk about it?" eddie asked to fill the silence that surrounded you both. it wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but he was curious and for some reason, worried. 

"no," you answered shortly with the word eddie expected even if he felt the need to ask. he was about to say, "okay," but you beat him with, "but maybe i should."

eddie was surprised. he showed it on his face when he glanced over at you, but your focus was still on the trees and houses passing by outside. 

"i haven't really talked about it with anyone because there was no one i could really trust. i could never bring myself to open up about it to jennifer which i am now thankful that i didn't and it's just so much easier to slap on a smile with the girls and pretend everything is peachy when it's not." 

you paused to take in a breath. "we're, uh, pretty sure my dad left us about two months ago saying he was going to take care of his mom after she has surgery. but my mom called his sister about two weeks after when she didn't hear anything from my dad and my aunt lives right beside my grandma by the way. she said she hasn't seen my dad since the christmas before last which was the last time i saw her."

"my mom isn't taking it too well. she's been drinking a lot which isn't great but isn't that big of an issue to me. what i hate is that she's like a totally different person when i leave for school and when i get back. every morning, she's the mom i know and love. she tells me she'll pick me up from school and that she'll make me my favorite for dinner which is her attempt at making us both feel better about the situation. but every day, i walk out after school or cheer practice or whatever and i don't see her car. i always see your van, but never her car, which is fine. i can walk. that's no problem, but it sucks to be promised that every day and then come home to her passed out and bitchy when she wakes."

"she's my mom, you know? she's supposed to take care of me and i don't mind taking care of her, but that isn't my responsibility all of the time. i get she's hurting. she's hurting a lot, but so am i." the wobble in your voice was undeniable and you hated that you were letting all of this out in front of eddie, but he hadn't told you to shut up and once you started talking, you couldn't stop. 

"i was always closer to my dad and the fact that he just up and left without any explanation or reason kills me because i don't know what i did wrong. i don't know what i did to drive him away. i wish i could've done more to make him stay. i wish i wasn't on the stupid cheer team so i could've spent more time with him, but at the same time, it is now my escape from all of this shit. i used to love cheering because i guess i used to be actually happy, but now it's more of a facade than anything."

"and from what i can now tell, all the girls are fake as fuck except for maybe chrissy, but i also don't know her all that well. but jennifer, i really liked her and talking to her felt easy. seeing her with arthur wouldn't be that big of an upset if she didn't know i liked him, but she did. i told her that in confidence and she did that anyway. and i know she wasn't wasted or anything because she doesn't do that. she'll drink one beer max and call it a night because she has this irrational fear that if she gets drunk, she's going to choke to death on her own vomit."

eddie snickered at your last sentence and you finally turned from the window to share his smile. "i know!" you agreed, "it's stupid, but whatever. i know she was in her right mind and betrayed me like that. it was the cherry on top to the shit that's been going on lately."

"if i may," eddie paused to look at you and you nodded for him to continue. you just unloaded everything onto him so why not let him say his piece, "jennifer has been jealous of you since at least sixth or seventh grade. i have no idea why, but i've seen the way she looks at you when you aren't looking and she's definitely got a vendetta and as for arthur, i mean, come on. you could do so much better. he's so immature. i just saw him stick his gum in tina folsom's hair last week."

you giggled and eddie could've sworn he had never heard such a delightful sound. normally, the two of you fought like children and if he heard you laugh, it was bitter or mocking, never genuine and light-hearted. now, he felt he needed to egg you on to laugh forever. he wanted– no, needed to hear it more, but he felt you needed some comfort for the time being. 

"i'm sorry about the whole situation with your mom and about your dad leaving, but you know that’s not your fault, right? there wasn’t anything you could’ve done to make him stay. but i’m sorry you’re having to deal with that and your mom and just regular shitty high school stuff," eddie spoke softly, big brown eyes baring into your own. no one had checked on you. no one asked how you were doing. no one really knew so you couldn't blame them, but even your mom only cared for herself, never once making sure you were okay. eddie was the first one to show any amount of care as he apologized for something that was in no way his fault. 

your eyes fell down to your lap as you nodded your head, trying to hide the way your eyes lined with tears. "thank you, but it isn't your fault."

"i know," he prefaced, "but still."

there was a small pause in the conversation before you tried to speak up. "i'm-" you stopped yourself when you heard your voice shake, but powered through it to say what you needed to, "i'm sorry that i called you a freak and am mean to you." eddie felt his heart break at how broken you sounded and slowly pressed on the brake to pull over onto the side of the road. 

"you don't deserve it and i know it's what everyone calls you and i didn't want to say it, but every time you call me princess, i- i really hate it and i wanted to do the same to you which i know is no excuse, but i-" you paused to catch your breath when a sob got stuck in your throat, all of the emotions of the night finally coming out. 

"and i'm mean to you because for some reason, that's how we've always been. i think it was all sarcastic and fun until it wasn't and i'm sorry for that. i'm sorry that i- that i pick on you and treat you how everyone else treats you, eddie. i- i'm sorry."

eddie had just pulled over when you said that last apology and he was quick to scoot over and wrap his arms around you. he didn't know what else to do but console you and at the same time, it made him feel better. you gripped onto him like your life depended on it and cried into his shoulder, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"listen to me, y/n." saying your actual first name felt weird on his tongue and to your ears, but you each secretly liked it. "you don't have to apologize for all that because i am just as at fault for that as you are. how about we just agree that it stops right now and we move forward either as friends or as strangers, whichever you prefer, but by the looks of it, i think we could both use a real friend. it's your choice though, so if you want to forget this ever happened, then i can do that too."

you pulled back a bit to look at him and eddie felt his heart clench at your sad, teary eyes. he had never seen you cry before and it wasn't something he wanted to see again. "you want to be friends with me?"

he smiled gently. "yeah, why not? you're cool, nice when you want to be, funny as hell, not too bad on the eyes." you rolled your eyes at that last one. 

"even after everything that has happened between us?" you questioned once more.

"even after all of that. after tonight, all of that is in the past and a new eddie and y/n emerge." 

a smile spread on your lips at the whimsy in his voice and you nodded in agreement. "okay."

"okay," he repeated before his eyes wandered over to the dash. "shit."

"what?"

"well, pr- y/n," he corrected with wide eyes. you just giggled. "it seems we need to pick a close destination for you because i'm gonna need gas soon."

"oh, sorry about that," you pulled away from him completely, feeling guilty about not only your past with him and dumping all of your issues on him since you left the party, but also because you asked him to drive around because you didn't want to go home so he wasted his gas on you. "i can give you some money for it."

eddie was already shaking his head. "there's no need. i chose to drive around and i think it was a good idea. do you want to go home now or are you coming with me to the gas station?"

"i guess i need to go home to check on my mom," you shared, not missing the way his shoulders slumped. 

"alrighty."

the ride over was silent, but it seemed to be what you both needed. you hated that you didn't want to get out of the van, but you needed to for your mom. 

"thank you, eddie," you said when you turned to look at him. 

he sent you a grin. it was something you had never really experienced geared toward you, but you liked it. "it's no problem at all." 

"so we're like friends now?" you questioned with a raised brow.

eddie nodded. "yeah, i think." 

"then, i guess i'll see you at school on monday, friend." you reached for the door handle to open it and stepped out, turning to face him.

"see ya, pal," he teased, this time with a playful undertone rather than a malicious one. 

you played along. "bye, buddy." 

eddie stayed to make sure you got in okay and waved back at you when you saw him still sitting there. once you were inside and he was on his way to the gas station, you each couldn't get rid of the stupid smiles that were stuck on your lips. who would’ve known that the one who got under your skin the most would be the one to save you when you truly needed it?

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[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ an exorcist’s edge ]❜

ft. meloco kyoran x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ meloco failed to exorcise a succubus who thinks that she’s super cute & came to pay her a visit┊3.1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub meloco┊dubcon & noncon kissing, succubus reader, pet names (reader calls meloco “little” to diminish her but she is an adult), aphrodisiac/truth serum kiss (??), reader is a little shit with a tongue piercing, hate sex, an attempt at dirty talk & degradation (with a little slut-shaming), nipple play, face-sitting, 69 position, receiving & giving oral, fingering, reader doesn’t cum :(, slight possessive behavior from the reader, no aftercare

➤ author's note: meloco kyoran from nijisanji en seventh’s wave of xsoleil is beautiful, breath-taking, charming, elegant, gorgeous, wifey material, someone that i need to write for more and you should too because look at her, i can’t be the only melove on nijisanji x reader tumblr (i’m actually pretty proud of how this came out, it might be one of my fav works so far)

the kyoran family is pretty infamous among ghosts and demons alike for possessing a lineage of the most prestigious exorcists in japan since the ancient times, being one of the first humans to master fighting the supernatural and training the generations after them to carry their craft. just uttering the names of the more prominent members is enough to strike fear in the hearts of some, which really makes them the equivalent of the boogeyman in their world. hell, even when you were younger, you were always taught to stay away since going onto their lands to do so much as catch a glimpse of them was a death wish much less being curious enough to want interaction with them.

of course, that was when you were a little one, but now you’ve claimed the ranks to become one of the strongest succubi in the underworld. they would need to rally the entire family tree all over the country to even attempt a hit at you, so you come and go as you please. you’re always hiding among the tree branches or on the building roofs all over their property, having fun just pulling the strings to play petty pranks on them in your free time when you aren’t busy bedding humans.

however, the very abilities that gave you the confidence to trespass on their lands would be the very ones that got you caught as they could obviously sense of your extremely powerful aura lurking behind the shadows. instead of calling some of the elders to deal with you, they decided to turn this situation into a learning opportunity and called out the eldest daughter of the new generation to banish you to the spirit realm— the very eldest daughter that you almost didn’t believe existed since she was always confined to the indoors and was never allowed to go outside in favor of her studies.

as expected, you could tell that she possessed the same talents that her ancestors vested in her when she came to confront you with her trusty umbrella, her pronunciation of the spells was perfect and she stood tall with her weapon in hand firmly. if you were any weaker than you were now, you would have been intimidated and tried to escape before she could strike you, but you knew better than to run away in the face of a novice like her.

so you put your charms to use, elegantly flying over to her to raise her chin with her finger to make her meet your eyes and giggled, “oh, how cute you are! did the kyoran family really send a little girl like you to come after me? someone with training and no real experience, they must have a lot of faith in you!”

with just a few words from your saccharine sweet lips and smooth velvet voice, she suddenly felt her resolve to weaken as doubt began to fill her. she’s trained her entire life for moments like these, but could she actually take down someone like you? her hands began to shake and she stuttered in her words, causing the entire ritual to fall flat as the force of the summoned winds made her fly against the wall and crash onto the floor. she could only helplessly watch you float higher in the air with your wings and blow her a flirtatious kiss goodbye before leaving the premises, also leaving her to face the consequences of her failure.

you weren’t even around to watch her get slapped by the head of the household and watch her run away to the road that brought her to xsoleil, you didn’t need to since you were the one who sent the ghost who directed her. admittedly, you felt a bit bad that it had to play out like this, but she needed to get away from that toxic environment since she would never be able to hone her skills or grow as a person if the way she was being raised continued. besides, a little tragic past never hurts anyone, now she has a backstory to tell her new friends!

and so she trained to get stronger, working hard to push herself at a healthy pace with the help of the student council. before she ran away, her biggest dreams were to simply please her family and become someone for them to be proud of, but now her final goal has been to track you down before finishing the job she started. she’s truly admirable in her pursuit to kill you, but you wanted to visit her one more time before the eventual epic showdown that’ll happen in a few years. you know, to bully her and further fuel her animosity for you so that she’ll have even more motivation to destroy you— some extra character development!!

you chose a time when the neighborhood was empty so that no one could hear her scream when you broke in through the bedroom window, but it looks like she took up streaming as a hobby so the place was completely sound-proofed anyway. it wasn’t exactly a quiet entrance, alerting her even with the music playing in her headphones as she chucked the textbook she was studying in your direction by instinct before jumping out her chair to face you. you effortlessly dodged it as if the heavy pages were nothing but leaves in the wind, walking towards her with the clicking of your stiletto heels enunciating your every step.

meloco seemed to be in a panic, her long hair swishing around with every turn of her head while looking for a weapon to fend you off with. her umbrella was tucked away in her closet along with her other belongings for exorcisms, but you were blocking the way. she tried to throw some other nearby objects at you, but you just waved them off with demon sorcery to turn them on her instead.

this continued for a few minutes before you got bored and flew toward her instead, knocking her onto her twin-sized bed and pinning her down into the mattress, “hello, little me-lo-co~! i heard you’ve been training to kill me, how’s that been going for you?” she tried to fight against your grip, but you tightened your grip into her shoulder with your sharp nails digging into her skin to indicate a threat. “what, you don’t like that i paid you a visit?”

“f-fuck off!” her lower lip quivered as she cursed you out, rendering her harsh words ineffective and just making her look even cuter as you stared intensely into the flames of her soul.

“oh my, don’t tell me…” even with your shadow covering her face, you noticed a pink tint dusting her face as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. succubi and incubi have this unique ability to sense when a human feels emotions of love or lust for them, allowing them to target those who already have an attraction to them instead of wasting time by flirting. unless the power was suddenly malfunctioning and was incorrect for the first time in centuries, it looked like… “do you have a crush on me, melo-chan~?”

“n-no! i would never!” she kept her magenta eyes off-cast to the side so that she didn’t need to meet your gaze as you interrogated her, feeling flustered at your blunt call out. you must have hexed her with some dark magic before you left because her mind has been tainted and clouded with unholy thoughts ever since. she wanted you as much as she hated you, and now that you knew, you were going to torment her about it.

“you would never? we’ll see about that,” you pinched her lower cheeks to force her to look at you directly, digging your nails into her pale skin and leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

her eyes widened and she moved her hands to try and push you off of her, but the force never came as a strange tingling sensation spread throughout her body with you slipping your tongue into her mouth and allowing her to taste you and the titanium of your piercing. the tips of her fingers and toes felt numb as a raging fire of desire suddenly bloomed in her womb and dripped onto the fabric of her panties as heat rushed to her face, unsure of what you just did to her because it certainly wasn’t just an innocent peck, “w-what did you do to me?!”

“let’s try that again, shall we?” the obvious fright in her voice and dilated pupils were providing you with a lot of amusement, the confident eldest daughter of the kyoran family now as meek as a lamb trembling under you. “do you have a crush on me, melo-chan?”

the purple-haired girl’s mouth ran dry as she tried to force another insult out of her throat. like she couldn’t control her own words, the confession she would rather die than admit came to light, “i do…”

“what was that? i didn’t quite hear you~”

“i do!” she screamed against her will, covering her face with her hands in a poor attempt to hide herself from you. ‘crush’ isn’t exactly the right word to call her feelings for you, it makes it sound like a romance of schoolgirls who get shy just from holding hands. what she felt for you was more like an amalgamation of emotions that have yet to figure themselves out: hate, regret, and guilt mixed in with the poison of lust for her seductive enemy.

“you probably dreamt of this moment every night ever since we met, haven’t you? dreamt of me showing up before you were ready to fight to rip off your clothes and take advantage of you—

“i have! i have, i have, i have—” she shrieked as the top two buttons of her shirt were popped off the fabric with you tearing apart the material, exposing her breasts to your view that jiggled a bit without a bra or her harness to hold them in place (but to be fair, they didn’t help keep them in place much).

“wow, what a pretty pair of tits,” you marveled, a vexing tone never leaving your voice or expressions, experimentally pinching at her perk nipples to elicit a beautiful cry from her lips. “probably the nicest ones i’ve ever seen on a human.”

meloco has a fantastic bosom, anyone can see that as it’s probably one of the first things people notice about her with the pink harness cupping them bringing even more attention to them with the fashion statement. they look even nicer when they aren’t obstructed by anything, large and soft and perfect for groping like stress balls while her buds hardened between your fingertips, you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight. tou didn’t think that she would be so sensitive too! drinking up erotic moans with her melodic fillings your ears with every ministration performed on her tits.

“god, i wish i could play with them forever, but i don’t have all night. now… how should i spend the rest of my time with you?” you tilted your head to whisper into her ear, “should i tongue-fuck you until you squirt all over my face? maybe we should scissor and rub our pussies against each other? oh, or i could summon a strap and split you open on my cock— you seem like a size queen…”

she shuddered in your arms at you contemplating and humming what to do next out loud, planting unholy fantasies in her mind with every scenario you suggested. all of them sounded good, any of them would do, she just needed you so desperately right now.

you suddenly pressed your hand into her upper chest to move higher on the mattress, positioning yourself over her head while facing the foot of the bed and the rest of her body. “whatever i choose to do with, you’ll only get once i decide you earned it…” before her very eyes, your silk underwear disappeared into thin air to reveal your pretty cunt wanting just as much attention as hers did and you rested your weight over her mouth for her to get to work.

the exorcist quickly grabbed onto your thighs and began to lap eagerly at your folds, almost catching you off guard with how quickly she performed like it was second nature (looks like she also got plenty of experience with eating pussy at the institute of infinity, this girl really owes everything to you for leading her here). she salivated at the scent and never tasted anything like you before with a sweet and floral essence, like an ambrosial nectar that had her addicted the minute your arousal made contact with her tongue.

letting out a low hum of satisfaction, you felt a fire of vitality ignite in your soul and surge through your veins. the mixture of pleasure she willing gave you and the energy you were siphoning from her felt incredible compared to a normal powerless human’s. this school contains plenty of other students who are gifted with all sorts of special abilities, perhaps you should indulge yourself and pay her friends a visit to see if any of them are interested in the treat that is bedding a succubus.

she stroked her muscle against your practically gushing slit, shoving her tongue into your passage as much as she could to savor you like a fine wine. her rational mind was screaming that she shouldn’t be waltzing into the palm of the demon she harbored so much resentment for, but it was silenced by her lust-induced desperation to orgasm and just drown herself in ecstasy to make up for the headache that revolved around you for so long.

you circled her clit with your fingertip, smirking at her twitching at the action and the mess of arousal webbing over her weeping hole like a present between her legs before tutting like you were disappointed in her, “so wet that you're soaked just from eating me out? i knew that you were whore, but really? god, how fucking filthy you are! don’t worry, i don’t judge, let me clean it up for you…”

meloco squealed into your pussy as you leaned over to put your mouth on hers to harshly suck on her pearl between your lips, squeezing her thighs and pulling at them to bend her knees for better access to her pussy. your tongue darted out and gave her clit a few kitten licks, making her shiver when she felt the cool titanium of your piercing contrasting with your hot tongue. to you, she tasted like a syrupy sweet summer’s fruit, ripe and plucked for your taking with honeyed juices dripping from its core— the forbidden fruit of the kyoran family’s runaway heiress that you’ve been yearning to take a bite from ever since your fated battle.

she struggled to keep her own pace against yours, losing focus amidst the pleasure and her movements faltering as she became too busy moaning to work her mouth properly. while the vibrations she was sending were nice, it was hardly enough to get you anywhere hence you began to delicately grind against her face to signal her to continue and squished your thighs around her head a bit more tightly. unlike her who seemed ready to burst at any second if you were any rougher, it would take you a bit more simulation for your release.

you teased her opening with your fingertip, gathering her oozing slit on the pad and circling around the rim, yet not penetrating her until you could hear a muffled whine pleading you to stop teasing. all you could was giggle at how needy she was, demanding your fingers as well since your mouth must not have been enough! working a finger followed by another into her with barely any resistance with how drenched she was, pumping them in and out of her experimentally while thoroughly enjoying the squelching sounds being made.

your skilled motions raging from scissoring her so delightfully to languid thrusts had her feeling so hot and borderline feverish. the blood rushing to her head and her loins swimming with pleasure had her dizzy, unable to think about anything with her mind melting like an ice cube in your mouth. she was close, so close, and she could feel the knot in her stomach getting ever so tighter and ready to snap at any moment. while you were being so casual and even almost lazy in your actions, she was frantic to reach her long-awaited climax. she knew it would come in any minute if you kept it up like this, but she wanted it now.

as though you read her mind (she wouldn’t be surprised if you had the ability to do so), you suddenly curled your fingers against her sweet spot and pushed her over the edge nearly instantaneously, “come on, melo, cum for me.”

with a gasp on your command, her vision stuttered white with stars and her cunt was clamping around your fingers with a vice as she gushed all over them while squirming like crazy— you had to properly hold her down to stop her from thrashing about so much since your weight wasn’t enough to do the trick. for extra measure and your own amusement, you mercilessly rubbed her clit to ride out her orgasm and watched her spasm under you for the fun of it.

“you know, i would love to stay for longer, but as i said before, i don’t have all night to be fucking around with an archenemy,” you mentioned, flying off of her bed and landing your feet on the floor. there was evidence of her spit mixed with your essence dripping down your leg, but with a snap of your fingers, it was like nothing ever happened with a fresh pair of underwear made of lace this time. before making your exit, you turned around and pulled meloco by the fabric of her torn top to force her to meet your eyes. “tell me who you belong to.”

“i’m yours,” she mumbled, still in a daze from the activity that happened mere seconds ago and how you moved on from it so quickly. she felt noticeably more drained than she usually did after finishing, but she wouldn’t remember that succubi get their power from their partner’s strength after sexual activity until she was sound of mind a few hours later after a nap. for once, she felt grateful for the strenuous training her family pushed her through— had she been any weaker than she was now, she might have fallen unconscious for days or worse.

“that’s what i thought,” you pressed another kiss on her lips, tasting yourself on her lips as she tasted herself on yours. “you may be a pathetic slut who abandoned everything she follows for a good fuck, but you’re mine.”

[misskattylashes]

The Dichotomy of Being a Teenage Alex Turner Fan

In this article I look at why I think so many teenage fans direct so much hate towards Miles.

Look at this image search I did on Alex’s name. First person whose name comes up ‘Miles Kane’, first other person he is in another picture with, Miles...before a puff piece about Louise or Taylor. It’s Miles. There are more results with Miles than anyone else. Whether people like it or not, Miles and Alex are intrinsically linked.

In the words of the big man himself ‘stop and wait a sec’...... imagine Miles was Mila, a constant female companion of Alex’s who he had been close to for nearly twenty years. Had been at his side more than any other woman, had done two duets with him and whilst touring the second one, their performances were so sexually charged you thought any moment soon they were actually going to have sex on stage. What would you think? You would think they were or had been in a romantic relationship. And even though you haven’t seen much of them together over the past few years, Mila constantly talks lovingly about Alex in her interviews, and Alex invites Mila to be the support act for the final days of a very long world tour, and on one of the dates he lets Mila stand side-stage (something his official girlfriend doesn’t get to do) and throughout the set he sings to Mila and can’t stop glancing at her. People would be enamoured with their love story and desperate for them to be together.

So why is it different just because Miles is a guy?

Of course there is the obvious. If Alex is gay, then the teenage fans stand no chance with him, which would be upsetting. But even me, as a creaky old Gen X-er, had gay pop stars who were attractive and sexy – Holly Johnson and Paul Rutherford from Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Andy Bell from Erasure, even Boy George got screamed at, but we accepted they were gay and we didn’t stand a chance and that was it.

Of course, there was no social media then, but did we write hateful letters to them or their partners, or put up posters on street corners saying how disgusting they were? (the 80s equivalent to posting all over Twitter) No.

So why the anger towards Miles?

Unfortunately when I was growing up, homophobia was acceptable. Gay people were constantly the butt of jokes, straight comedians would pretend to be effette just for laughs. At school we even had the reprehensible Section 28, imposed by Thatcher’s government where any mention of homosexuality was banned, even books featuring gay characters, to apparently help prevent us from experimenting and catching AIDS (yes I grew up in the Dark Ages)

But there comes the rub. Because homophobia was acceptable, any negative feelings we had towards our gay pop stars or their partners wasn’t something we felt bad about so we felt no need to pick on anyone as a way of dealing with our own conflicted emotions

Fast forward to 2023. Gay people have rights, can marry, have children, are positively represented in the media, we have Pride, which is on the point of becoming too commercialised, and to be homophobic is to most young people not cool or acceptable.

Those same girls who spew hate towards Miles probably paint rainbows on their pencil cases during Pride, have male gay friends at school and would have a go at anyone who doesn’t support trans rights.

But then there is the fact that the celebrity they desire has a constant male companion, who he has been more publicly intimate with then any of the girlfriends he has had. Scratch beneath the surface and you can spot the differences in them when they fell out after EYCTE -both a shell of their former self. When there was a brief break in Lockdown in the UK, who did Alex choose to meet? Miles. Whether the fangirls consciously or subconsciously think there is something going on, it makes them feel uncomfortable with themselves. The presence of Miles Kane makes them realise they’re not necessarily that right-on girl who is into gay rights, because when they actually think about it, and think about what men do, they don’t like it.

But instead of realising that this is just part of being a grown up – we all have things about ourselves we don’t like, they direct their anger and frustration at Miles, as if he didn’t exist then they wouldn’t be confronted by these unpleasant feelings they have.

So, what I am trying to say is whilst I find the comments about Miles disgusting and cruel, just remember with these girls the person they really hate is themselves, while Miles lives his lovely life with his career and his friends and Alex and Maxie.

I think we know who is the winner here.

[caramelarchive]

light x trans!male reader? i know this may be a little complex, but hear me out: there's a phenomenon with trans men in which they feel like that being masculine is the equivalent to giving up that feeling of being feminine, likeable and desirable. maybe we could have a one shot scenario in which light reassures his boyfriend?

You ╾ Light x Trans!Male Reader

A disclaimer before we start: I am not a trans man (I realise I haven't got my pronouns up yet: she/they is good) and honestly I just don't get gender in general. This is also my first time writing a trans character so please tell me if I did anything wrong so I can change it! I've done research and I know everyone's experience is different, but- well, see first note. TRANSPHOBIA WILL GET YOU BLOCKED!! Anyway, thank you for your ask! I hope I wrote this like you imagined 💕 I have moved to my main @lawlietscaramels please follow there for new content!

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

Light took one look at you as he walked in, throwing his coat to the side, and came to lie on the bed next to you. "Bad dysphoria day?"

You fiddled with your shirt. "Not... quite."

This was not the dysphoria you had struggled with before. No, you felt quite masculine today. The problem was this sparked a new kind of hatred for yourself: the feeling that being a man meant you couldn't be likeable and desirable any longer.

It was great, really, having only scars on your chest, and that the people who loved you no longer used the words and names that were wrong. And yetー you no longer got those little smiles from strangers, the quick flirt at the coffee shop, and it made you feel less... well... pretty. Even if pretty wasn't meant to be a masculine thing. There's no other word for that feeling of being wanted, being desired, being thought of as attractive without the terms linked simply to sex appeal ("hot," "sexy," well, that was just too much for anyone but your boyfriend to use).

Light turns on his side, pressed up against your body, and throws an arm over you. "Wanna talk about it?"

You sigh, leaning your head against his. The blankets shifted beneath you, the white fabric like clouds. "...Yeah. I feel like I'm not..." A vague hand gesture. "Allowed to be pretty any more."

"What?"

"Well, think about it. Women, you know, are portrayed as the 'beautiful' sex. Like, even the shape of old Coke bottles used to be modelled after a woman's curves because it made it seem more attractive, in a way. And of course there are problems with that whole thing, but... I want to be masculine, accepted as masculine, more than anything. You know that. But I don't know if I want to give up feeling, well, 'feminine,' as much as I hate the thought, in that femininity is the definition of desirable."

Light sits there silently for a few minutes, mulling over your words. He eventually gives a little chuckle.

"You. You are the stupidest man I've ever met."

"Hey."

"Sorry, Y/N. Sorry. I mean, that's just silly. Who says being masculine means you can't be desirable? I feel quite wanted when you look at me and it doesn't make me feel any less of a man."

"That's probably because you've been accepted as a man since birth."

"Sorry," he says again, "you're right." Light manages to scooch even closer, his other arm sliding beneath you to hug you. "But you don't need to give up feeling masculine to feel attractive, okay? You are masculine, AND you are also the goddamn nicest looking man I have ever met. You have wonderful eyes." A kiss. "A wonderful face." Kiss. "A wonderful brain. And a wonderful, wonderful body." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "And I think I will call you stupid if you are too blind to see that."

"Light..." you laughed and rested your head against his. "Thanks. You make me feel..." you're left searching for the word, the right word out of the millions of options, before you settle on: "You make me feel loved."

"Good. You don't need to do anything to be desirable and likeable and attractive and perfect. Becauseー"

A smile and another kiss, full on the lips.

"You're already you."

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

[plentyoffandoms]

i will not allow myself to be one of the only people writing snu snu for jeffalo so,

nobody knows they’re dating. reader is very much not jas material (don’t have a mean bone in her body, besties with willow for story’s sake), but maybe daniel or tyler (HOOK) is hitting on her and he watches it happen which leads to possessive, rough fucking? and like the next day they come clean bc of all the marks on her neck and scratches on his back and shoulders 😏

Angelo Parker x f/Reader (18+)

Main Masterlist ♡ AEW Masterlist ♡ Jeff Parker Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Minors do not read. Possessive Angelo/Jeff. Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up) P in V.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif & 2nd gif & 3rd gif @hikuleo-archive

I hope you like it.

WC: like 1500. Forgot to look before I deleted it. Last look was around 1500 words.

Summary: f/Reader & Angelo Parker have been in a secret relationship, but after seeing Daniel Garcia flirt with her, Angelo decides to show that she belongs to him & only him.

Jeff - Angelo ☆ Danielle - Willow

Angelo Parker's POV:

I all but sneered as I watched Danny talk to YN. He is trying to be smooth with her and using all of his best lines on her, which usually works except for one, tiny little thing.

She is my woman.

Not like I can tell anyone that she is as we agreed to keep it just between us when we first started to secretly see one another. It was my idea, in a stupid way to protect her, as I know how some wrestling fans are.

YN is very kind and sweet, too sweet to be with a guy like me, but for some reason, she has decided I am the one for her and I am thankful for her every single day.

Even when people flirt with her or when I can wrap her in my arms and kiss her when I see her. I leave her bed just before anyone notices I am gone.

I try not to leave marks on her body that others may see and question her about where she got them from.

Especially from her best friend Danielle. Those two are the equivalent of BFFL or best friends for life and they tell each other everything and I know YN hates keeping secrets from her.

I know it bothers YN that she has to lie to Danielle when she is meeting up with me and she comes up with some excuse not to hang out with Danielle. But Danielle never questions it, knowing that YN has never kept something from her.

So I watch day after day as Danny tries to shoot his shot with her. I could hear him talking about her with Isiah, how he knows she is probably a freak in bed. That she is probably a screamer. That her pussy is probably so tight. How she must look amazing with a cock in her mouth.

He isn't wrong, not at all.

I have to fight myself not to cum every single time I slide into her pussy, how it feels like she is strangling my dick no matter how much I stretched her out.

She looks like a goddamn angel with my cock in her mouth as she looks up at me. Her eyes filled with tears and she takes me deep in her throat, gagging around my cock. Never looking away as I cum down her throat, she swallows as fast as she can.

Her screaming my name as I make her body tremble with my mouth, fingers, or my cock.

Yeah, he isn't wrong but he will never get to see her like that.

YN'S POV:

I was at the vending machine when I felt someone come up behind me and wrap their arms around me. I tensed up but the moment he started to talk, I almost melted back into his arms.

"Meet me in your room," Jeff whispered in my ear before nipping the lobe. I shuddered slightly as it has been so long since I have been this close to him.

"I am meeting Danielle to do some shopping," I told him, knowing I can't back out of this with her. I just agreed to go with her.

He sighed and placed his forehead on my shoulder. "Text me when she is gone, baby. I need you," I closed my eyes as he told me that. Now I wanted nothing more than to cancel and spend the rest of the day and night with him."

~

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with Danielle. The two of us shopping and grabbed a bite to eat. I made sure to eat enough because I know that man will give me a workout.

Once I was alone, I messaged Jeff and waited for him. One knock on the door, and I knew it was him. I looked through the peephole to make sure and smiled when I saw him standing there.

I opened the door and I knew something was off. He didn't smile when he saw me or say anything. He walked into my room, closed the door behind him and pulled me into his arms, smashing his mouth against mine in the most passionate kiss we have ever shared.

"You're mine." He said with an intense look as he pulled back to look into my eyes.

"Always," I said, wondering where this is coming from.

~

My whole body felt like it was fire as Jeff pounded into me. He had me over the edge of the couch, facing the floor-length mirror. My body was covered in his marks as he kept muttering how I am his and only his.

"Whose pussy does this belong to, baby?"

My mouth fell open to answer, but all that came out was the sound of a squeal as he reached down and rubbed my clit just the way I like it.

"Come on sweet girl, I asked you a question. I need you to answer it." We made eye contact in the mirror, and I couldn't answer him as he was bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

He suddenly stopped and didn't move, his cock buried deep inside of me. I whimpered as I went to grind back against him, but he pulled me against his chest, his mouth against my ear, gripping my throat as he asked me once, each word punctuated by his hips bouncing off my ass.

"I said, who does this pussy belong to?" He snarled.

"You." I finally got out.

"Louder baby girl," Jeff's pace started to pick up.

"YOU!" I screamed as he slapped my ass hard. He chuckled after I screamed.

"Not loud enough. I want everyone to know you are mine." He pulled out and demanded I get on the bed, on my back.

I was barely in the position and he had my folded in half as he slammed into me. His hips bounced off of me as he pounded me into the mattress.

My arms were wrapped around him as he fucked me. My nails dug into his skin. I didn't even realise that I was scratching him up good, not when he is kissing and biting along my neck, making me moan for him.

"Gonna cum Jeff," I whimpered.

"That's it, cum for me baby. Need to feel you cum. Cum for me YN." The strain of his voice had me lose it, screaming his name as I hung onto him for dear life.

My pussy spasmed around him as he didn't last too much longer. With a loud groan, he stilled and I moaned quietly as he filled me up with his cum.

His head was still in my neck as he tried to catch his breath.

He pulled back and moved his hair from his sweaty face. He smiled and kissed me, muttering how much he loves me.

We spent the rest of the night fucking and making love, falling asleep. I woke up the morning expecting him to be gone, but he was there, his arm thrown over my stomach. I had to wake him up as we had a show we had to get to.

~

I was just about to sit in the makeup chair, already knowing that I will be questioned about my neck. I didn't realise that Jeff left so many marks on me.

"Who is it?" I kept getting asked, but I kept my mouth shut.

Even though I wanted to tell everyone that I was with Jeff, I agreed to not tell anyone.

I sighed when I was asked once more but didn't get a chance to answer when walked in Danny, who had a smile when he saw me, but that smile faded when he saw the bite marks on my neck.

I could hear Sammy question Jeff about the scratch marks on his back and the marks on his chest.

The two of them entered the room and Sammy said hi to us all, and then did a double take as he looked between Jeff and me.

"Well, I'll be damned."

Poor Danny was confused as hell and watched as Jeff walked towards me. He held out his hand and I took it, smiling once I realised that we are finally telling people.

"Guys, this is my girl YN. We have been together for a while now."

"Congrats man," Sammy and the others said to us, but as we walked past Danny, we stopped and Jeff leaned into to whisper something in his ear.

Danny's eyes got wide and he nodded his head like he was agreeing with whatever Jeff said to him.

"What did you say, baby?" I asked Jeff when we stepped out of the room.

"Nothing love. Just about tonight."

ANGELO PARKER'S POV:

I smirked to myself as I walked with my arm around YN, holding her against my side, going over what I just said to Danny.

"I ever hear you talkin' about my girl like that again, I will make sure you can't have kids. Got it?"

He quickly nodded his head.

"Oh, and yeah, her pussy is just that tight buddy."

Should I have said the last part? Nope, but was it worth it to see his reaction?

Fuck yes.

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @crowleysqueenofhell @legit9thlunaticwarrior @malakaiblacksgirl1989 @nicoleveno14 @blaquekittycat @1rsolideranna

[greenlikethesea]

five songs you listen to - greenie gets personal edition

🎶✨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to. then send this ask or tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨🎶

tagged by @tolkientrash! thank you!

i just did one of these, but i think that whenever i’m tagged, i’m gonna do one of these. i do listen to these songs on the regular, but these hold very specific memories for me. get ready! i like writing them, and you all seem to like them. maybe they’re self indulgent, but it’s been nice to share. I have a few tags to catch up on and I will get there!

1. Whiskey - Nicole Reynolds

when i was newly 19, i went to a house party that was also sort of a jam session, a few blocks away from my house. i brought my ukulele, inside my big coat because i didn’t have a case for it, even though i only knew a few chords. there was a girl there -- we’ll call her b -- that intrigued me, but i wasn’t sure why. my own feelings about girls were rich and complicated, having been burned by my ex-girlfriend in high school, but i wanted her to notice me. after a while of mingling, i ducked into a side room, where she was fiddling around on her guitar -- a far better player than i ever will be. she started playing this song, whiskey, a tune about loving someone despite their flaws. the tune is easy to discern, so i was able to pick up a harmony pretty quickly, and our eyes met. i figured it out -- i liked her. i wanted to know her the way nicole reynolds knew her lover.

2. Puzzle Pieces - Tiger Trap

as some of you know, i dated the same person on and off for seven years. we dated all throughout high school, took a break (where i dated b -- i’ve never cheated), and then resumed the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college. i went to his house in the guise of going to a hike, but that was a bullshit ruse -- i went over to have sex with him. and we did. and we laid together, me unsure of what had happened, because he always kept his feelings to his chest. but he got his ipod and put one earbud in each ear, and started to play this song. “whenever i played this song, i thought of you. it was your song.” he had never gotten over me. i was, at least for a time, his puzzle piece.

3. everyone blooms - The Front Bottoms

after I broke up with the person mentioned in 2, we attempted to maintain a friendship. this, predictably, did not go well, but a safe topic for us was always the music we had in common. when this album came out, we both discussed our favorite tracks and his happiness about the return to form (i had liked going grey, nut he hated it for being too poppy.) we both carefully avoided talking about this particular track, which felt too familiar for comfort. “sometimes we talk/it’s a total mistake/just the memories of us/feel so real, must be fake.” this, in turn with the music, dizzying and the sonic equivalent of banging your head on a wall after spinning in a circle, contributes to the crushing, quiet desperation of it being too late to change, but that’s okay. “wherever you are, don’t worry/you’re gonna be fine, fine, fine/everyone blooms in their own time”

4. So Unaware - Best Coast

the corniest thing about me, probably, is that I like to listen to music by California artists when I’m in California. best coast, to me, represents what SoCal is now — dreamy, lonely, vast, vacuous but for pockets where you find meaning. Bethany Cosentino is a lyricist who gets straight to the point, and her arrangement work with Bobb Bruno on this album is all structured around a descending arpeggio of a guitar riff. the primary lyrical theme is myopia, either on her part or the part of her departed lover. and man, there,s something about winding around mountains, 65 in a 40, with the exasperated plea, “I’ll never understand you, never understand you, never understand you now.”

5. West Coast - Coconut Records

alright, so I will own that this pick is me being sentimental and romantic. lyrically, this song is so subtly artful that you barely notice it on the first lesson. I’m a real fan of two things this song masters: a simple image being a stand-in for an evocative feeling (“I love you, standing all alone in a black coat” — small, stark, a pop of inky dark in east coast grey, singular in the eye of the beholder) and a chorus beginning and ending with the same line, with the meat of the sandwich changing the line from start to finish (“I miss you, I’m going back home to the west coast” — in the beginning, a simple statement of intent, but by the end, the narrator wishing his love would stop him).

Sorry, that was deeply personal and you did not ask for all that! But welcome to my brain!

Do not feel obligated at allllll — Tagging some of the usual suspects and a few newbies @friendship-switchblades @sparklyslug @serskets @gothbat99 @sea-heaux @dallae @xstevex-world @dodger-chan @leftofus @geddyqueer

[sybilius]

ohohooo 🥺✨🤗✅ for the fanfic writer emoji ask meme if I may, please and thank you xoxo

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Absolutely, yes. So a lot of to-do is made about that “italicized oh” moment, but usually when people refer to that it’s “the moment where shipmates realize their feelings are reciprocated”. Now I’m not really about that, but feel like one moment I always find super satisfying is kind of similar with respect to emotional punch. 

My favorite character arc is enemies with benefits to lovers– and I feel like the equivalent oh moment is both a combination of “we’re in this fucking deep and there’s no looking away from it just being (hate)sex anymore” – but it’s more than that because I really like when (a) the stakes are deeply interpersonal and (b) the characters realize that they themselves have to…change a little bit, despite the unconditional acceptance they are being offered.

In short– they are in love, and love requires compromise– but I love the moment where they realize they need to find that compromise and they want to offer change in order for things to be a bit gentler for their lover. 

This moment is always at the middle point of my fics, by the way. The Chapter 3 moment. You being familiar with Sighted Crows especially will recognize the frostbite scene, that moment of “she was right, she’s always right” // “Do you know how I knew I cared about Sue? I don’t like seeing her in pain. Never have.” 

I like it most of all when the shipmates reckon very deeply with the mess they are in, and then realize they have to step up and try to disentangle it. Delightfully, I just wrote that scene for you got fuck all clue what the work really is; which was a real treat. 

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I’m feeling all kinds of ways about my wrestling research in the writing lately, so I’ll pat myself on the back for that <3 getting to learn a ton about an art form I really care a lot about while also spinning silly lil narratives has been so good. A friend recently complimented my use of recontextualized finisher moments in fuck all clue, and I really appreciated that and felt the work deserved it <3 

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Oh, I feel like you really said a lot of my favourite things!! I think for myself I would add that while finding your voice can be a really satisfying thing, you don’t have to write a Unique Thing(™) (™) always. It’ll be unique just by virtue of the fact that you’re writing it. Treasure that. Also, as a corollary to your “don’t compare yourself to others” (which is excellent advice!)-- try not to compare yourself to your past writing, or meet your past and present self with compassion if you do. If your writing before was “”worse””, celebrate that you’ve gotten better and be kind about the fact that that was your best then. If your writing is “”worse”” now, take a gentle look at your goals and capacities now vs. then and be gentle with judging yourself. Your writing is where it is. It’s good to have goals but always be kind, especially with you. 

✅ What’s something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don’t mean to?

Never over a good “meaningfully provided hot liquids” scene, I think. Platonic or romantic :”)

[secret-catalyst]

Just need to vent

Why does this feel familiar?

4am, stress writing while I'm having a drink.

Anyways. I'm gonna span some weird fucking topics here and I'm gonna bounce around, so buckle up. (and also fuck off with my paragraph structures, I finished my English req's and I have no cares right now)

Life is strange. 5 years ago I was starting to get my shit together truly for the first time. It turned out I could be a full time working member of society. And then Covid hit, and then I moved for the love of my life, and then I kind of just enjoyed being in a real relationship so much I kind of stopped doing the rest of life. But that caught up with me (as it should have).

And here I am. I just got hired for a new job that I think I could be really good at. But I'm terrified of it. First and foremost, it's a management position that requires 5-10 hours a week of overtime on top of a full time job. That means some days I'll only see my spouse for about an hour because of our work schedules. Secondly, the pay. This job pays SIGNIFCANTLY more than I've ever made in my life. I'm talking get out of debt money (which there is a scary amount of, but we'll get to that). I'm talking able to afford a mortgage payment instead of rent payment amount (though mostly because my spouse inherited a bunch of money that's going to cover our down payment).

Let's talk about my debt first. I'm not going to list numbers, but it's fucking stupid. I fucked up once this bad before, and my dad and spouse gave me money to pay it off. It's just as bad as that time, and the truth is, if my spouse knew how bad it was, they'd genuinely consider divorcing me, and justifiably so. But with this new job, if I can do it, I can make money quickly enough that I might be able to get out of this mess without my partner needing to find out.

But therein lies the problem (and another major lie I've told to my spouse that if they found out would give them genuine grounds to divorce me). I've been hired at at least 6 different places in the last year and a half. I've been so fucked up in the head (depressed/anxious/hundreds of other things) that I've not lasted more than 2 days at any place (if I even showed up in the first place). My spouse knows none of that. I'm a really good fucking liar, and I hate myself so much for it.

So I have to make this job work, and I know I do. But this is also the first job I've gotten hired for that I know I'm ready for. Every job I've previously been hired for I felt overqualified for (even if I wasn't). The fact is, I'm so fucking full of myself that every time I got hired for something that I felt would be a step backwards (even if I was lying to myself about it) I'd give up.

And so now I've been hired for a job I'm not qualified for. This would be the equivalent of the job I was just starting to train for at my last full time job... The one I started 5 years ago. The company also has no idea about my tattoos and sometimes dyed hair. But how would they, I'm actually getting old. I got hired because I bonded with my soon to be boss over my previous job working at Blockbuster.

But let's hypothetically pretend the job thing works. I can bury myself in my job. The first issue is things already aren't great between me and my spouse. Now, me making decent money is going to help big time. But a major issue has been my partner's lack of interest in me sexually. We used to have fun, explore, go back and forth. Now? Well, it's every couple of months, me taking the lead completely, one of us finishing, and then thanks and see you in a couple of months. I've given up trying to initiate because it doesn't feel like they really want to have sex with me.

I truthfully have two worries. First, I tried to push them into some weird stuff too quickly. I had one partner who opened me up to being comfortable ion my sexuality. While I wasn't truly able to open up to them, when I met my current partner, I knew I could open up. Even if it meant rejection, it wasn't going to be a bad thing. I am worried I opened up too quickly, scaring them.

My second worry is the poly aspect. My spouse was poly until we got together basically. Their primary partner when we first got together was actually an abusive piece of shit, so that didn't last. On top of that, early in the relationship I was so scared of the idea of it I think I convinced them to stop it so they didn't lose me. And I'm worried that by doing that they're now missing out on a part of themself that I first fell in love with.

The stranger thing about that is that the longer we've been together, the more I'm understanding the polyamory lifestyle. And I'm not saying I want a girlfriend or a boyfriend or I want to cheat. I'm saying my partner was at their best when they were able to be more open with themselves, and I want that person in my life. It feels wrong to hold anyone back (even myself) from being able to give as much love into the world as they can. But how do I even begin to broach that question?

Back to work things, I'm scared because of the other life events. I started going back to school because I figured out what I'd like to do with my life if I could do anything. And that's to be a high school teacher (English or P.E.) and sports coach (Soccer or Baseball probably). But I'm not school smart. I've already dropped 2 big classes for W (withdraw, which means it's on my transcript) because I don't know if I can do it. The best case scenario was my graduating just after I turn 40. Now? Probably 42, if all goes well. Do I even bother, considering by the time I would be graduating I'll be making a lot more money in my current job then I would if I started teaching and coaching?

That's all I've got tonight. I need to sleep and pretend I can handle everything.

[blue-kyber]

Me: I don't want to write romance.

Inner thought: But that's what people want to read!

Me: I'm terrible at it. My romance writing skills are the literary equivalent of a 15 year old boy trying to steal condoms and miserably failing to look nonchalant about it.

IT: People literally don't care. They horny af. They want da booty.

Me: Only sexuals praise the booty like its a sun god. Almost every single song on the radio involves sex.

IT: Hate to break it to you, short-stack, but the world is run by sexuals. Your ace ass is in the minority. You're surrounded by horny people who think about sex multiple times a day, and believe having sex is what makes you a whole human.

Me: That's horrible. I am a whole human! There's really nothing I can do to get around this?

IT: Nope.

Me: What about stories with actual plot lines, and massive efforts put into developing the characters and worldbuilding?

IT: Is there romance in it? Do they 'NOW KISS?'

Me: Not among the main characters.

IT: No booty, no ships, no sale. Get used to seeing people walk away.

Me: I already am.

IT: Regarding your writing. Not you, personally. Wow.

Me: Do I really have to give them the booty?

IT: Do you want people to read your shit?

Me: Yes.

IT: Do you want people to get in the door so they become curious about the work your put your heart and soul into?

Me: Yes.

IT: Then lure them in with booty.

Me: *sigh* Fine. Alright. Against my better judgement, and nowhere near my wheelhouse, I'll do it.

IT: That's the spirit.

Me: I feel like I'm being held hostage by dongs.

IT: The hostage holding by dongs is only temporary.

Me: With my lack of experience in that genre, it'll probably turn into smut, because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing.

IT: Even better.

Me: I'll just be slinging dongs at them hoping they stick like throwing cooked spaghetti against the wall.

IT: Mmm. Spaghett.

Me: *heavy sigh* Fan fiction, or original work?

IT: Fan fiction. People are more likely to play in someone else's sandbox than build castles in a new one.

Me: That sucks. But yeah. Ok. Writing good fan fiction isn't easy, either. I've spent months working on long fic to make it great. I've read some incredible stuff that should be published, and didn't involve shipping or booty.

IT: They dangled the dongs over the readers to get them in. You remember lemons in the early days.

Me: *shudder in disgust* Do not remind me of the clusterfuck that was 'My Immortal,' please. I never even read it and I felt jizzed on.

IT: Yes, but you remember it. They weren't aiming for the high bar.

Me: No, they dug a trench and walked under it.

IT: You're not aiming for 'good.' You're aiming for 'I wrote this in one night here have a dong sandwich.'

Me: I don't want to make a dong sandwich! Gross. *sigh* Fine. Which fandom gets to read the glory of my shitty romance? - that I will ensure is at ground level at least.

IT: Star Wars? Tangled? MCU? Frozen?

Me: *screaming in Ace*

IT: Heehee. Bone apple tit. :)

[dzpenumbra]

8/5/23

I had one goal today. Chill and have a fun day. I didn't quite accomplish that goal.

I had to do the whole "4 hours of sleep, get up, eat food, play Factorio, then go back to sleep" thing again. I hate how normal this is getting. But hey, it works... So I was up at like... 8:30? Back to sleep for a few hours, then back up around mid-day.

I stupidly got on my phone and on social media. It's never worth it, I swear. I just got sucked into a local subreddit and it's always political shit and it's always arguing. And I found myself writing paragraphs to post and then deleting them without posting and starting over... then deleting that. And yeah, it just feels like such a waste of time and energy.

Like, it was all about some young graphic designer (no small coincidence) who quit a job at a local cider brewery because she felt they were misogynistic. Which honestly? I think we're really getting to a point in society where you legit need to watch your back for a lynch mob over even making jokes. It's like people don't understand the purpose of humor as a way to breach difficult topics in a more approachable way and keep them in the social dialogue rather than hiding them... that process isn't equivalent to advocacy, if anything it's publicly shining a light on problems... Of course there's overlap, duh, there's overlap with literally everything, but the exception is not the rule. My point being... making a joke about something is very fucking different than actually doing something... and they really really cannot be treated the same.

I was referring to GWAR as an example, because yesterday I watched their old 1990 VHS they made for fans. I went to see GWAR in 2005 in Boston, I remember that show vividly as it was the only time I saw GWAR, Lamb of God, Clutch and Strapping Young Lad live. GWAR was by far the most memorable. If you don't know them... you will never forget them. GWAR is an art collective out of Virginia that, in their early days, advertised themselves as a mix between KISS, Rocky Horror Picture Show, WWF and The Simpsons. Really, they're way the fuck farther than all of that.

Their explicit purpose has been, since day one, to hold out a blunt, no-holds-barred, outrageously over the top mirror to society. To show all the fucked up things that are in the media, in humanity, but in a way that is extremely dramatized and over-the-top and cartoonish. And they do this by creating a fictional mythos behind the band - staying in character the whole time - that the band themselves are alien gods who are here to destroy humanity and merely distracted by sex/drugs/rock and roll, and the artists/musicians are their human slaves. And the gods themselves are slaves, too, to another higher diety. Which, clearly slavery is a theme at its core... and... with them being from Virginia... it's far from a coincidence, it's super intentional. It is a palatable way to keep extremely difficult concepts within social dialogue, in a way that isn't clinical or scary. In a way that is poking fun at how fucked up it is, how inhuman those acts are. How horrible of a being you'd have to be to commit such crimes. That's the entire fucking point!

And... then along comes Tipper Gore... and all the others who suddenly think that some 20-something guy in ridiculous theatre makeup "decapitating" a puppet of a political figure, then squirting fake blood all over the audience... they think that's going to like... trigger a Manchurian Candidate or something. Like uttering the Devil's name will summon him! OoooOOOoOOO! Well, if that were the case, how the fuck haven't we summoned him by blasting actual death, crimes and dismemberment all over mainstream news nationwide for decades?

See... if you frame it as "informing the public", you can literally do anything you want. If you frame is as "fictional entertainment/parody", for some reason these morons think you're... advocating? They're seriously like the SNL / South Park of metal music, and they've stood strong for 40 fucking years doing this shit and - I shit you not - they just played NPR's Little Desk. XD It's fucking great, check it out.

So this was all stemming from this chick who was complaining about how the company decided to make a light beer that was marketed to redneck men. Let's not beat around the bush here, it's targeted to the guys who go deer hunting and chew tobacco. And she was specifically analyzing their ad campaign and pointing out (with gigantic leaps of extrapolation) how it advocated for the mistreatment of women. ... By like... making a stupid poor-taste joke about how women aren't good at golf?

My point here is like... if it's not your cup of tea... just fucking change the channel. Why the hell do people have such a hard time with that? Don't buy the damn beer, you weren't going to anyway. I, personally, don't like drag shows. That's just... me. It doesn't mean I have anything against the LGBTQ community, it doesn't mean I don't like crossdressing in general, it means I don't like things that advocate explicit sexuality in public forums (I really don't like strip clubs either) and advocate for extreme forms of superficiality. It just is in a lot of ways the antithesis of a lot of things that I do enjoy, and do derive pleasure and purpose from. But my personal preference has nothing the fuck to do with their right to perform. Ever. I just... don't go to drag shows. And you know, I might even go with a friend who is into it, to stand in the back and absorb the experience, then talk to them afterwards and see what they got out of it. As a cultural learning experience. But that's not a requirement whatsoever. I have every right to not find something palatable, as does everyone else, but our personal tastes do not directly translate to permission to attack someone else's right of expression.

There's a huge difference (and this actually happened to me) between going to see a standup comedian and hearing a joke about 9/11 that really doesn't sit well with you... and just... getting up and leaving? You know? Versus... heckling. And protesting. And blasting them on social media. And trying to get them cancelled and make sure they never come back to your town. It's a gigantic leap from just showing yourself out... to trying to ruin their show or end their career. And it makes me deeply concerned how normalized this has become. People used to get taken to court over shit like this.

So yeah, I really tried to sum up my point like... "I don't like their style of humor, I don't have any intentions of buying their product, I feel like light beer is somewhat a slight against the gods... but I will defend to the death their right to tell their jokes." But, as I always do... I came to the conclusion that... it's really not going to make a difference. They're just looking for people to agree with them, so they can feel validated in their decision to quit the company a year ago. So they can feel like they're... "getting back" at the people who they felt treated them unfairly. As though... that's a "good" thing. As though eye for an eye leaves things settled up and everyone walks away happy... XD

I clearly didn't post it. And I realized I had spent nearly 2 hours typing and editing and rewriting comments. Good lord. This is what social starvation looks like.

Again, my goal for the day was to relax and have fun...

I started working on the graphic design thing. And... I stopped myself. I realized I really need to decide whether I'm actually going to do this commission before I sink more work into it. I haven't gotten paid yet, in fact... we haven't even talked prices yet... So... I posted on an art forum about this commission. All of it, including the bit about him shooting the fox during a creative consultation with a vegetarian, and how I have 18 projects on the docket right now. I got a resounding 6+ comments all saying different forms of "I would say no", "red flags", "you can walk away", shit like that. It was helpful to hear it, especially... so unanimously... like... I didn't hear a single artist actually advocate for doing this commission outside of desperation for money. So... I made up my mind. I'm not going to work on it anymore and I'm going to tap out.

Then, I had a super embarrassing moment because my post was deleted by a moderator. Apparently they have a rule - "no posts about business/social media/publicity". In an art forum. ... Which... I mean, the only reason I posted there was because I've seen tons of posts there about exactly those types of things. I guess I saw those posts before the mods got to them. Oh well. I actually handled that "you fucked up" pretty well. I got a little upset, then tried to respond "my bad" and it didn't go through, then moved on. Much better than being mortified with shame. There are still some shame shadows floating around in the background, but I've mostly moved on.

So... I got my answer. And my conversation is gone. So... I got zero feedback about pricing. So... either I make a new post where I ask the ever important question... "Is asking a fine artist to go outside of his medium something that the artist charges extra, because it's a special thing they don't normally do... or charges less, because it's something they don't have experience in?" I didn't get a straight answer on that.

Then I started to write up an invoice. I'm glad I got that set up, with my chill-but-serious solid black name up top and my seriously chill trademark light pink background. It looks official as fuck, I'm proud of it. So... here's where I am with it. I don't really know if it's good or bad, but it's a number. I decided... $200. Part of me feels like it's too low. Part of me feels like it's too high. And I think that's really the best I'm going to get. I don't think I'm going to find a number where I don't feel that way. So, I billed it as Concept Sketches - $125, Concept Design Consultation (Phone) - $75. So it's an even $200 plus tax. I think that's fair. We talked for an hour and a half, he took a woodland creature's life during the span of that, which I was tempted to charge extra for... So I just put my wages at a random number, $50/hour, and then rounded the concept sketches to fit the rest of my $200 number. I have a degree in art, I have been working in art since 2008. He was consulting me for my creative expertise, not my ability to follow YouTube tutorials. And, so far, I've sunk a total of about 3-4 hours into sketches and Illustrator prototypes... so... the $125 is actually cutting him deal. But, considering I'm not going to give him the digital prototypes, I decided against charging him full price for that. Not sure if that's the right decision.

Again, fun reminder, my one goal for today was to chill and have fun. XD

I ran through about 10 different drafts of texts to send him. I wrote one, but I didn't send it. If anyone reads this and wants to give me their opinion, I'd really appreciate it, but I really don't have expectations. I'm 90% likely going to send it tomorrow, along with the invoice to his email.

"Hey, I wish I could help out with your logo but I don't think I'm the guy for the job. I would recommend seeking out someone local who specializes in fonts and lettering: a sign-maker, a tattooist or a graphic designer would be good leads. You can feel free to use my concept sketches as visual tools for that process if you like, and we can consider this a creative consultation. I'll email an invoice over your way before the night's out. You've got a great concept, I'm excited to see it come to fruition, wish I could help more."

I did everything I could to make sure I did NOT say "I'm sorry" at any point in the message, or explain why I can't do it. That's huge fucking progress for me. Literally any time I have to break news where I feel like that person might get upset or angry, I am fucking profusely apologizing. Even if I didn't do anything wrong. It's like a survival thing, because I'm afraid I'm that messenger in fucking 300 who gets kicked down the well... and I've still got a lot of projects I'd like to complete and beautiful sunsets I'd like to see.

My only hesitation now... and please tell me if I'm being paranoid here... My fucking address is on the invoice. And by address, I mean my exact apartment number. And this guy discharged a .45 caliber handgun with hollowpoint bullets while on the phone with me. And I may likely be upsetting him. So... you know what, let me take this as an opportunity to really do a grounding exercise with this, since I don't think I've done a comprehensive one.

In my head, I am afraid that my former friend... I was a groomsman at his first wedding... is going to be mad that I backed out of designing a logo for his welding company... because I don't do graphic design, I'm a fine artist and craftsman... and I'm afraid that this is going to lead to him showing up at my apartment with a loaded handgun and killing me. Yep. I mean, when I say it out loud, it kinda sounds a bit stupid. Silly. Outrageous. Unlikely. Kinda... like Anton Chigurh in No Country For Old Men. So, am I really afraid this guy is going to somehow get through 2 sets of keyfob electric locks and get me to open my electric-locked door... then commit a violent felony in the dead center of a highly populated apartment building... then just... walk out? Good lord, I think I watched too many movies over the years.

So... yeah, I'm a bit less worried about that now. Funny how like... just writing out your fears in vivid detail can really help make more sense of them. That's a skateboarding thing, too. Like... nosemanuals, that's a big one for me that I'm overcoming right now. I used to love manuals, it was my thing. It's basically like being on a balance board outside, and I used to use balance boards all the time as a kid. But nosemanuals (manuals are "wheelies aka riding on just one set of wheels", nosemanuals are on the front trucks rather than the back ones) have always been super scary. My big fear is always... I'm going to drag my nose and it's going to catch and I'm going to go flying out of control. See, with a manual, you can drag your tail and it doesn't really do anything. If you drag your nose on a nosemanual, your board can just immediately come to a complete stop, but your body just keeps going... which is one of the worst things that can happen to you as a skateboarder, it can completely throw off your ability to control yourself midair and that's where injuries are likely to happen. So it's technically a logical fear. But the reality of it is... you can feel it before it happens. You can feel when your balance goes that far forward, and you can just hop out of it, or if you're going really fast, just tuck and shoulder roll. It's really not that bad at all. And once I really started to process that, and see it in real life? Nosemanuals started to get much less scary. But you really need to spell out your fears on that, say very clearly what you are afraid of with that trick, in order to overcome that.

The general, vague, non-specific fears? Those are the ones that can ruin your life. Because they can worm their way into fucking anything.

So yeah, I think the address on the invoice is fine, I don't think I need to pay for a P.O. Box just because of this. I hope the text is fine, I think it's super generous. I'm actually a little worried I'm shortchanging myself a bit... but whatever. It's money I didn't have and once I get this off my shoulders I can get back to my normal life. In fact, that money can go directly towards a month's rent of an art studio at the collective nearby, and nearly pay for the whole month! That's a good way of looking at it.

So yeah, once I realized I was doing that instead of relaxing... I went to fire up Minecraft. I hadn't sunk into that in a long time. My idea was to potentially... smoke weed and then play Minecraft for a while. I chickened out. I didn't smoke. I've just been too fucking anxious lately, I really didn't want to risk like... hearing bumps from the ceiling and thinking the FBI was knocking at my door or something. That shit is not recreation, it's a living nightmare. It's such a damn shame, I really wish I had a vice for days like today.

I made dinner, ramen and leftover fried rice. I watched skate videos. I prepped tofu for tomorrow, with lessons learned from last time. And... then I played Minecraft. And it was alright, but not what I was craving. I want a creative survival game where I make a home in the wilderness. But... it just wasn't scratching the itch today. I was playing the Valhelsia: Vanilla Expanded modpack, and the second I got in I just went... "I miss Dynamic Trees". And I tried to add it... but it's not compatible. And that was a big sad moment. I love feeling like the world around me is alive in a game like that. And Dynamic Trees (and other mods like it) was really good at that. All the plant life was constantly subtly changing, but the terrain topology stayed the same. So... I'm not sure what to do about that.

I ended up quitting and playing Session for a while. And now here I am.

So... day 2 of having the sole goal of having a chill fun day... and then I end up doing stressful work and only relaxing for like an hour. And lots of rain and thunderstorms both days too. Lame.

Welp, here's hoping to succeed tomorrow, I guess. Next art project is going to be clothing art, my beige pants are going to get a deer head on them, and likely a fox on the other side if I have a good orange.

If there's one thing I got out of this whole reconnection with that former friend experience? It's a reconnection with my deep love and admiration of foxes. And I am deeply driven to add in fox imagery to all kinds of work right now.

I want to do pieces that are like... a scrapbook of my memories of this place. And a lot of it has been animals. So... I was thinking my helmet could be a collage of these. I want to do the blue jay that used to visit my feeder every dawn, and a fox for this unfortunate lost soul. So... tapping into spirit animals through capturing memories, and what those memories mean to me... and bringing those memories to life through my art. I think it's a very beautiful thing... and a way I haven't really thought of animal spirits before. I always sorta thought of them in like a... conceptual... abstract... almost god-like way. Like "I'm channeling the fox-spirit, the qualities of a fox." And that kinda feels sometimes like "I'm channeling the human-spirit, the qualities of a human." And this other approach, is much more... individual. There's much more of a visceral meaning to it. Kinda like drawing a portrait of a specific person you admire, as a tribute to those qualities they embody to you... this would be a drawing of a specific animal, and the qualities it embodied and the impact it had on me. So... the same totemic symbology, but with much more individual specificity.

Oh my god, I can't believe I almost finished this without mentioning. I saw a squirrel outside my window earlier today (I live like 20-25 feet up) and it was just running around on the branches of a tree just like... grabbing leaves and tugging on them, then carrying them in its mouth. And I had never seen this before, at first I thought it was looking for some kind of specific seed pod or fruit or something? But then I saw clearly that it was gathering leaves. And I just connected the dots and went... "wait... is it making a nest? Do squirrels do that?" And I looked it up and sure enough... this squirrel is making a big leaf nest directly across from my window! It's about 6 feet higher than my window, but it's right there. :) That means there are going to be babies! Maybe. It made me so excited. I have a new neighbor! She looks pretty young, and she doesn't seem to notice or mind me hanging out by the window and watching her work. I'm so glad I have nature right here out my window, if I didn't I really don't know if I'd last here.

Okay, I think that's about it. I put off yoga until now, so I'm gonna go do that and take a nice shower and call it an early night.

[noteguk]

bad attitude | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though! 

— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry 

— words; 7,2k 

— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation. 

Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;) 

Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target. 

Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all. 

And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved. 

Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex. 

Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed. 

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?” 

You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs. 

Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”

His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him. 

Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.” 

With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” he complained. 

The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?” 

Be good? 

Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention. 

In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss. 

It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem. 

In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits. 

Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening. 

Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time. 

As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned. 

The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.” 

He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”

“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."

“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.” 

He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way. 

Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved. 

You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.” 

Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”

But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history. 

Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer. 

And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member. 

If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.” 

Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away. 

“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?” 

He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.” 

He frowned. “Or what?”

You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.” 

Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his. 

Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.” 

And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.” 

You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.” 

He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move. 

Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.” 

It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”

“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.” 

They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried. 

You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.” 

He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up. 

“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.” 

Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.” 

“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.” 

He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.” 

“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.” 

“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.” 

“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.” 

That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” 

But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you. 

The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped. 

What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the  ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said. 

“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.” 

As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.” 

And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”

He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.” 

You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”

“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?” 

A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.” 

You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly. 

With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”

“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined —  when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”

You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.” 

“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.” 

You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?” 

“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.” 

“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock. 

With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”

“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.” 

His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release. 

“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”

Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said. 

“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.” 

You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?” 

It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.” 

You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.” 

And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.” 

A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?” 

He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.” 

You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him. 

After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that. 

“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.” 

That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him. 

“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.” 

“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?” 

He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.” 

No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you. 

Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point. 

His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.” 

Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”  

You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes. 

“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.” 

With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was. 

“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.” 

Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.” 

You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“

“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat. 

The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath. 

“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.” 

~ 

Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it. 

“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“

“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”

~

check out the rest of the bad influence collection! 

taglist > @minyoongiboongi  @bvrrym0re @marcoazam2 @shojotae @youurkryptonite @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230 @we8joon​ @gamerkooks​

[silkscream]

SWEETEST KILL | PART TWO: VERDICT

pairing: peter parker x silk!reader

warnings: mentions of sex, angst, tony stark

wc: 3k

summary: an unexpected invitation to stark industries makes you question everything.

a/n: not my favorite. it feels like filler but i suppose it’s important for context n plot development. also, i love writing a sarcastic reader. also, did i only just post part one yesterday??? yes. it’s called These Have Been Sitting In My Drafts And I'm Bored As All Hell

↳ series masterlist / main masterlist / taglist

↳ part one: delirium / part three: kismet

“So, what, you think she crawled her way here from a different Earth?” 

“No, she’s… definitely real. I’ve gone to school with her this whole time. She was bitten by the same spider as me!”

Tony Stark furrows his brows, partly from disbelief, partly from the fact that Peter’s eyes are bugged out and his appetite is curiously insatiable, considering the boy keeps taking more and more of the man’s fries. Tony swats him away.

“Hey, I said a couple,” he scolds. 

“‘mmsorry,” a muffled Peter mutters, fries in his mouth. Tony rolls his eyes.

“Is she a threat?” 

“Um, I don't think so… we kind of…” Peter trails off, looking away from his mentor. He fixates on the lucky cat in the window waving its paw at him tauntingly. Tony doesn’t understand Peter’s affinity for these combination bodega/Chinese takeout/diner places, but the kid was frantic and was most definitely not in the mood for a place that served Chardonnay, much to Tony’s dismay.

“You what?” Tony asks impatiently.

“Like… my senses were on overload, I’ve never felt like that before…” The boy stammers as his cheeks grow red.

“Oh,” Tony nods, blinking at Peter with indifference. “You use protection?”

“No, we didn’t get that far!” Peter exclaims, covering his face with his hands in self-consciousness. “I.. just… it felt so weird. Like I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t get why.”

“Well, kid, if she was bitten by the same spider as you, you probably both have the biological urge to mate. Didn’t school ever teach you about pheromones?”

A raised eyebrow bluntly contrasts Peter’s worried gaze.

“I thought that was just for animals, not humans,” he shrugs.

“Okay, well, you’ve got yourself a little spider-girlfriend. What exactly did you want me to do about this? Give you a little run-down on sex education?” Tony nods at the disgruntled middle-aged woman at the front, waving her over for the check. He takes a sip of his Diet Coke and looks pointedly at Peter. “What, does she not know who you are yet?”

“No, I thought it’d be a bad idea to tell her. Should I? I feel like… this is big, Mr. Stark. Like, what if she’s secretly a villain, or if she’s not, then I feel like she needs guidance, you know? Maybe she should train with us?” Peter’s eyes are pleading.

“Well, kid, we’re not the damn government. We can’t have a profile on every person that has sticky hands like you. But fine. You know her name?”

Peter nods.

___

“Congratulations, Miss Y/L/N, you’ve been anonymously referred by an academic advisor to participate in an exclusive workshop at Stark Industries!”

“What?” You nearly spit, squinting at the guidance counselor in front of you. You were sure Betty had given a tip to Mrs. Cooper about skipping class or your last chemistry test or your general emotional malaise. You were expecting a lecture on mental health, not this.

“You should be proud of yourself! Many people who participate in student activities under Mr. Stark end up becoming interns and employees! This will look ah-mazing on your resume!” 

Mrs. Cooper was the human equivalent of what you would imagine a middle-aged, female Spongebob to be like. You didn’t hate her, but you hated her chipper attitude and the way she constantly piped about academia like the world was fresh daisies. Not to mention, she never gets your name correctly even though she's been your assigned counselor since freshman year.

“Right… um, thanks,” you mumble, taking the paperwork from her as the bell rang. You’re relieved as you walk out her door — any longer in that room and you feel like you would’ve imploded. Or she would’ve turned you into an inanimate object with bippity, boppity, boop.

You already know whose eyes are surging through your body. Peter Parker stares at you from your locker and it takes about half a millisecond to stare back at his sharp jaw and the pinkish flesh of his thin lips. A tiny cut on the corner of his bottom lip ordains something that makes you breathless. You want to lick it. 

He looks at you like he has something to tell you but ultimately looks the other way. Before you even realize your compulsion to walk towards him, Betty Brant links her arm with yours and greets you. You’re still glancing at Peter, half-listening as she babbles about her date with Ned.

“And he got me daisies! Isn’t that just the most romantic thing in the world? I didn’t even tell him they were my favorite,” the blonde gushes.

“Yes, you did. We were sitting together at lunch last week and you were loudly ranting about how no one’s ever gotten you flowers before,” you remind her, bluntly. She rolls her eyes.

“Okay, but it’s the fact that he listened!”

“I love Ned, but that is quite literally the bare minimum.”

Betty makes a face, scrunching it up like she’s tasted a lemon for too long.

“You’re just grouchy,” she teases you. “Maybe you need to go on a date. Peter Parker’s been staring at you this whole time, you know.”

The sound of his name makes your heart leap. 

“Shut up.”

“Oh, he totally is into you! I just saw him lick his lips!”

“Betty, if you keep talking about him, I am going to hurl your pretty ass into a locker,” you shush your friend when her voice squeals like nails on a chalkboard. You and Betty contrast one another comically — you in your entirely black outfit and her in a Vineyard Vines cerulean sweater. 

“Ruuuude,” she whines.

You roll your eyes again, shuddering from the weight of Peter's gaze and the fluorescent lighting that bathes you in the wide hallway. You blink back at Betty’s heart-shaped head as she purses her lightly glossed lips, eyes bright and wide like a squirrel’s. 

“So why did Mrs. Cooper wanna see you? Did you get into a fight again?” It’s funny, the crease on the blonde’s forehead. She looks like a real-life Barbie doll.

You scoff. “No, I just… got some academic thing. At Stark Industries.”

“Like Iron-Man Tony Stark?” she squeals again. 

“Yes, that one,” you hiss, pulling her towards the classroom before she can get any louder. Peter watches you carefully from the back of the room.

The blonde mouths oh my god and you flash her a fake smile in an attempt to mirror her delight.

__

“Hello, do you have an appointment?” the redhead at the front desk asks you. Her red lipstick is the color of blood, matching the color of her suit. Her sharp green eyes look you up and down. 

“Um, kind of. I’m here to see Mr. Stark for the workshop,” you explain. 

Tick, tick, tick. The clock seems like the loudest thing in the room. You wonder if the secretary hears you at all, but just as you’re about to repeat yourself, she cuts you off.

“Name?” She doesn’t look up from her computer. You tell her.

“You can take the elevator down the hall to your left. Twenty-third floor.”

“Thank you,” you mumble softly. 

You hate the fact that you’re here. You didn’t love the grandiose, exaggerated luxury of this skyscraper knowing that its glory was sensationalized by a pro-capitalist industrialist. You don’t care about military technologies and weaponry. In fact, you despise it. But you weren’t stupid. Any ticket to a good university was worth it, admittedly. 

The doors open to a room with sleek, modern furniture, black tiled ceilings, and floors illuminated by studio lighting. Uncomfortably, you take a seat on one of the red couches. It was impressive, the decor, but it still felt clinical and cold to you. Especially considering you were alone.

Your ears perk up to the sound of a door opening and footsteps echoing on the tiles. Around the corner, a pair of luminous brown eyes meet yours. 

“Peter.” It’s not a question, more of an observation. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m, uh, Mr. Stark’s intern,” Peter replies, smiling in a thin line that looks fabricated. What is he hiding?

“Did you ask him to ask me to come here?” You narrow your eyes.

“What? I didn’t even know you were, uh, coming here. What are you doing here?”

“Peter Parker, I know we aren’t the best of friends or anything, but you’re a terrible liar,” you sneer. You like the way his mouth quirks up into a defeated smile along with his pink cheeks. Your eyes widen when your gaze traces the length of his jaw. “Sorry, not sure what’s formal right now. Mr. Spider-Man.”

“Huh?” Peter’s mouth is agape but he makes an attempt at being casual by sauntering into the kitchen, turning away from you to look blankly into the fridge. 

“Would you rather be called that?” Curiously, you get up from your seat and walk over to the island of the kitchen. Everything looks too clean to touch, let alone use for cooking food. 

“Um…” Peter genuinely doesn’t know what to say. He forgets how to breathe once you cross the invisible threshold in the middle of the room because now that you’re closer, he can smell your skin. 

“Can I try something?” You echo his words from the other night. You feel bad — the boy looks terrified despite the way he carried himself during your accidental rendezvous. He’s trembling. 

Awkwardly, you take your hand and touch his shoulder, causing him to jerk without warning. He mumbles an apology as he looks at his shoes. You don’t know what compels you to do this — you’d never in your right mind do this in any other context — but you kiss him. It’s a soft, slow kiss. A short one, thanks to the voice in your head screaming for you to release yourself. 

“Yup. You are definitely Spider-Man.”

The voice of another human booms in your presence.

“I see you two have met,” Tony Stark grins, walking towards the island. “Parker, Y/L/N, follow me.

___

Peter’s body is betraying himself. It’s difficult to stay still in his chair when he’s only about two feet away from you. Tony doesn’t understand the extent of the… problem, and dismisses the boy’s behavior as normal teenage ADHD. Peter can never stay still anyways. 

You’re somehow better at controlling yourself, crossing your legs tightly, and keeping your palms in your lap. You’ve always been good at controlling yourself. But maybe that was the girl-instinct inside you, the ability to fold yourself over and over to be contained, small. 

“Well.”

The three of you switch glances at each other awkwardly. You feel like you’re in the fucking principal’s office.

“There isn’t an actual workshop, is there?” you ask bluntly.

“Smart girl, I can see why Peter likes you,” Tony quips sarcastically. Peter glares at the man, shaking his head as if he’d just let out a secret. Which it was, maybe. At least a surprise to you.

“Why am I here?” You want to choose your words carefully, but if Peter’s the one who brought you here, there was no point in hiding Silk. “Are you trying to use me for biological warfare? Don’t you have him for that?”

You nod towards Peter and he sighs. Tony chuckles. 

“The kid seems eager to get to know you, which he could easily do himself. You’re not in any trouble. Dr. Banner would just like to run some tests on you to know more about the spider, see how you differ from Peter, etcetera. We aren’t going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“You just said you were going to run some tests on me.”

For the first time since you kissed Peter moments before, you look him in the eye. “Why exactly do you want me here?”

“I just wanted… to help you. You said you didn’t tell anyone about Silk except me,” Peter stammers. He plays with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m not a therapist or a guidance counselor, so if Peter can do the honor of showing you around, go ahead,” Tony says dismissively. The door behind you opens automatically, to which you storm off before Peter can catch up to you.

“Y/N, wait!” Peter calls after you.

“What?” you seethe. “I don’t want to be a hero, okay? I told you this already. I don’t want anything to do with the Avengers, I don’t care if we have the same powers, but it’s not my responsibility to be your weird little test subject.”

“It’s not like that! Don’t you want to know more about your own powers?” Peter’s voice is raised slightly as he takes your hand. “Listen to me. You told me you don’t have anyone. But I promise you, you have me. If you’ll have me.”

The earnest look in his eyes makes you want to jump his bones. God, how pathetic. You hate how weak you are for this boy, and how his puppy-dog eyes are boring into your thick skull, and how if Tony Stark wasn’t on the other side of the wall next to you, you’d pounce on Peter Parker like a tree.

“Don’t you want to know why you feel like this?” the brunette asks softly. Your fingers are intertwined, his thumb rubbing your skin innocently. It makes you jump slightly as if you’d gotten burnt.

“Fine.”

___

You always hated doctors. You hated the mundanity of the waiting room, the cold setting and sterile environment that housed tragedy despite the cut-throat policies of America’s awful culture of medical insurance. You aren’t even in a hospital, but these thoughts flood your mind all the same. You shift in your seat in front of Dr. Banner.

“Okay, Miss L/N, I’m sure you’re familiar with all your powers. Arachnid abilities, superhuman strength, speed,” Dr. Banner drones. The sound of his voice almost calms you. Like a history channel documentary. “Now, what we did find out is that mutagenic enzymes in the blood of the spider that bit you give you the ability to be in perfect physical equilibrium, in any state imaginable. That, and your Spider-sense is actually much, much sharper than Peter’s.”

You raise your eyebrows. 

“Seems like the glands inside your arms help you produce your own web fluid too, which is... different.”

You nod politely. Dr. Banner didn’t really tell you anything new, but it was enlightening. Like you were getting Officially Diagnosed. You look pointedly at Peter.

“What? I had to make my own web-shooters!”

“Sucks to suck, Parker.”

“Do you have any more questions, Y/N?” Dr. Banner asks. You shake your head.

With a smile, you listen to Dr. Banner and his conversational asides with Peter. Ignoring his presence, you scroll through the apps on your phone to return some texts and check the schedule for the nearest metro. The sound of Peter’s erratic beating heart drowns out your ears like white noise. You hate that he can hear yours too.

“Why’s your heart beating so fast?” you give him a scowl.

“You know why.” Peter reluctantly flashes a peculiar look at Dr. Banner as if prompting him. “It’s the, uh…”

“Pheromones,” Banner chimes in. “That’s probably why both of you are so hyper-aware of one another. Because you were bitten by the same spider, your bodies naturally have the desire to mate when you’re in close proximity.”

Your expression is unwavering while Peter’s face grows redder and redder. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were to start melting.

“Is there a way to tune that down? So we can, like, coexist like humans?” Peter asks.

“What, like an anti-horny pill?” you chuckle darkly. Peter throws a glare at you. “What? Do you want me to transfer out of our classes? We already know what happens in Twilight.”

“I can arrange something like a serum that allows you both to control your impulses,” Banner says. “In the meantime, Y/N, you’re always welcome to the lab for any purpose. Not in a scientific prodding way, but in an inventor way. Your natural web fluid is pretty remarkable.” 

“Thanks, Doc,” you sigh. Peter’s eyes flicker between Dr. Banner and you, catching you in an unfathomable grimace that turns up into a smirk when you realize his eyes on you. If there was one true fact about Peter Parker, it was that he was easily flustered by pretty girls. 

“Well, I guess I should go. See you later, Peter.” The name leaves your lips like it’s yanked out of you. The sound of it gives Peter a slight pang to the diaphragm. His nervousness and immeasurable attraction to you manifest itself as a dunce cap atop his head considering how calm and collected you are, a direct contrast to his enchantment. You reciprocate these feelings in a watered-down way though you won’t show it, because despite the fact that the boy you like deliberately lured you to meet him in this bizarre, clinical setting, you still took the bait. Without another beat, you leave the room.

Peter is just able to catch you before the elevator doors close on him and you huff at how quickly he’s able to catch up to you. The silence is awkward. The drop of a paper clip would probably sound like an earthquake if not for both of your irregular breathing.

“Shouldn’t you be staying away from me?” you sneer with gritted teeth.

“What if I…” Peter trails off. What if I don’t want to? “I understand why you’d be angry with me but I really do want to help. I do want to be your friend, you know.”

“You sure that’s not your dick talking?” you taunt.

Peter gives you a pained, puzzled expression. He takes your hand, desperate for you to understand where he’s coming from, but you’re much too stubborn to entertain any of his theories or plans to make you stay. 

Before Peter can answer, the elevator doors slide open and you leave as quickly as you came.

___

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