#your mouth shapes the words but nobody replies

[yandere-sins]

Do you still write for yandere omega? That piece was soooo good oml, can you write an aftermath or just a snippet of day to day life with them? Yan omegas are so rare and they are rarely explored and tours really set a tone on what they could do. Its the ultimate ploy, nobody can suspect an omega desiring a simple beta, simply too outrageous to think

I never really stop writing for anything (that might be the actual problem, lol). Thanks for your request!

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content!!

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Tap, tap, tap.

Their fingers swept over the keyboard on their lap, restless and excited, generating countless words per minute. A smile played on the omega's lips, giddy and amused as they scrolled and replied to endless comments, the flood of new notifications never-ending. The success of their latest video—a video showing you and them immersed in heat and rut for hours to no end—was something that not even they could have expected. Still, they kept their online banking up, watching donations and premium membership fees roll in by the second, putting a wide grin on their face.

Humming in satisfaction, they halted their fanservice, glancing up from the blinding laptop screen to you, sitting on the chair next to them, still dazed as you ate your cereals. You two had been holed up for days in your nest, the whole production of your very first video having ruthlessly dragged you through all emotions known to mankind and leaving you exhausted. Not exhausted enough to refuse the food your omega procured for you, but enough so that you didn't argued or cried anymore while shoveling colorful, animal-shaped cereals and milk into your mouth. 

Even like this—disheveled, still a little crusty (since you didn't want to get out of your curled position and shower with them after they stopped the recording), and sore—you were no less their beautiful beta than you were down in the love nest, ravaging your omega like a goddamn beast. 

You had visibly turned off reality around you, sitting there completely out of it as you ate, heading your omega no mind. What you must be thinking about was as puzzling as it was unconcerning to them, their own thoughts had always been louder in their head. However, as they watched you, they grew antsy, missing your full attention on them like when you two were buried in sheets and in the spotlight of their production, even though it had been painful at times. But even pain was beautiful to some, and your pain was a gift to them, just like your love was. They missed your hands all over them, spit and sweat mixing as your bodies moved in perfect harmony with each other. Now, despite sitting close enough to you that they could easily reach out and hold your hand, it was not close enough.

They hadn't brought you here for you to be away from them. All the money and time that went into building, securing, and completely erasing the location of this mansion had not been so you two would be apart from each other. Not for you to have that kind of freedom, one that the omega didn't want for you or for them. 

It was bittersweet to abandon their beloved fans for you, the very same people who made it possible for you two to be together. Who supported and encouraged the omega, no matter what, as they worked their butt off for more and more of their attention. And yet, the omega announced their farewells for the day, promising more exciting content to come tomorrow before logging off and closing the laptop.

It was your attention they wanted. Only yours. 

It had only ever been you they desired, from kindergarten well into adulthood. They had always clung to you and pleaded for you to claim them long before your diagnosis. It was such a shame that you didn't present as an alpha when the time came; otherwise, their place at your side would have been surely secured. This way, they had to go to drastic lengths to be with you, even though the effort hadn't been in vain. Now they had you right where they wanted. 

Their hand sliding up your arm, you halted your movements, spoon hanging in mid-air with milk dripping from its rim. There was a slight shake in your hand, growing more and more intense the higher the omega's hand traveled. Until they gripped your shoulder, the spoon clattering on the designer table, milk and cereals going everywhere as you winced in pain. 

Their grip was merciless, considering the many, many marks and bruises they left on your body, the pain only now registering that you were out of the drug-induced rut. Your whole body was practically mauled by your omega's teeth and sharp nails, fists they used to get you in position when you were too high to listen to their demands. Everything hurt, and when they climbed on your lap, tears shot back into your eyes, their hands freely roaming your chest and arms without remorse about what they did to you. 

In fact, they were proud feeling the indents through your t-shirt. A shirt they rubbed all over themselves before helping you into, marking you with their scent. Had you been an alpha, it would have been so easy to make sure you smelled like your omega. But you weren't. So they needed to use more drastic methods to mark you. The omega could think about a good handful more ways but decided to keep those for the next time they'd put you in front of a camera. Until then, a shirt and their body rubbing against yours had to suffice. 

"You did so well," they cooed, longing for nothing more than to hear you praise them as well. But perhaps they had to show you first how to take care of an omega, so, once again, they took the lead, just like they always had in this relationship. "Fucked me so good, made me feel so full ~ My pretty little beta. You enjoyed it, too, right? We made such a lovely video; now my fans love you too."

"Ah- No more..." you gasped weakly, gripping the omega's waist and trying to push them off you. They grinned at your little, helpless defiance, the bite you had after arriving in your new home now muzzled after days of fucking. You had so many more beautiful sounds to give them than your screaming and crying—moaning, whimpering, begging. Their hips were grinding over your legs and into yours, the pain etched into your face of no concern to the omega as they kept disturbing all the sore and wounded parts of your body.

God, you were beautiful. 

Day, night, evening, morning, you were always fucking stunning. Happy, smiling, angry, crying, needy, drooling, hurt, and despairing. There was no moment they didn't love you. You were only made for them, your beauty belonged all to the omega. Even god must have meant for you two to be together. 

"Hush, it's okay. There, there..." your omega muttered, leaning forward to kiss your tears away, licking up the salty trails they left behind while their hips picked up speed on top of you, causing some blissful moans from the omega's lips. Nothing in this world turned them on like you did, even sitting at the table, crying pathetically over the pleasure they gave you. You were so seductive, even when you were hurting. Anything they gave you, pain or pleasure, you had to accept it just like the omega did. Pain, acceptance, being close to each other no matter what—all these feelings you harbored for them, you had to accept the same way they did. That's what love meant.

Sliding their hand down your chest, they dug under your waistband, sliding further and further. You let out a beautiful gasp, followed by your body shifting and hands trying to stop the passionate grind of the omega's hips. But latest when they had their hand on your sex, making you flinch at the touch, you slowly stilled, merely trembling as your breath turned ragged. 

"That's it, baby!" the omega cheered, your pleasure becoming their own as they used their hand to get both of you off by grinding against it. "Come for me, Darling! You'll do it, right? Come for me? Come like a good beta from your omega's hand?"

They'd turn all this hurt into more and more love. Your pain would soon cease when you realized they were doing what was right for you. Their hand was slick with your juices, confirming that the omega was right—they were the best and only option for you to thrive in this life, just like the thought of you had driven them to success. It would turn you into an alpha despite your genes, at least one in mind. Now that they had you, they would never let you go. They'd never abandon you and take a real alpha; there was no need for it anymore when they could shape you into what they wanted. 

Slipping their hand out of your shorts again, they licked off the remnants of your orgasm, watching as your body collapsed beneath them. That's right, they thought, just let yourself fall. Once you'd learn to leave behind all the bad thoughts and drown in the pleasure and love they'd give you, everything would get better. You could live your life with them, secluded and confined in your togetherness, in peace and harmony. 

Your omega would do what you needed to realize this.

"I love you," they murmured against your lips, licking over the bloody marks of your own teeth that had bitten into them, kissing away the pain. Soon, there would be no need to hold back like this. No need for hostility against them. Everything would go back to how it was before your diagnosis. You two would finally be happy. 

"I love you so much," they sighed, ignoring the jolt in your body as they began to grind again, not yet done with you. Mouths mixing in a one-sided kiss, the omega moaned into it, ignoring every flinch and your whining when they bit into your lips as well, combining your mark with theirs and tasting what belonged to them. 

They knew they might have to ruin you some more to achieve their goals. Break in the old belief that you two could never be together, and let it crumble like a house of cards by showing you how they could take care of you. Bring out your real potential as their partner. Claim you until you were too weak to refuse them as your bonded partner. 

It was a rocky road until then, littered with more arguments, nights of silence, tears, and them getting what they wanted no matter how much you suffered. But they had gone through much worse to get to where they were now. The extra effort would not stand in the way of your happiness. After all, that's what devotion was.

And your omega would always be the one and only for you. 

#omegaverse #yandere omegaverse #yandere!omegaverse #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice. 

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back. 

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing.   Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”  

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv

[iznsfw]

The Devil's Telephone

IVE's An Yujin x Male Reader Smut

6969 words

Categories | model!Yujin x photojournalist!you, rough sex

Barely edited. Who cares, I did great.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

-

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," says Gaeul. "Say that one more time and your career's over. No going back."

The small smile that's an everyday accessory to her features is gone. That tells you that what she says is what there is to her statement. What you hear is what you get. There's no underlying tone to it; she's completely serious, and besides, when has Gaeul ever lied?

Wring the looped lace of your camera over your head and place it and the device that can make or break your career on her desk. "Nope," you say. "I'm not doing it."

"You will," Gaeul says. "Nobody else will do it."

"Can't you get Jiwon to show up there?" It's worth a try, right?

"Like I said, no chance. Rei's with her on vacation. And Yunjin is out of the question."

"God fucking dammit." 

Looks like this day can actually get worse. First, you miss the taxi going to the studio, ending up being about an hour late to your meeting. And then the nervous intern almost spilled coffee all over your camera. Luckily, the scalding liquid only ended up mostly on your pressed shirt. It's like the day is toying with your feelings, trying to see how far you can get without breaking down.

Your eye twitches. The day might see your breaking point after all. 

"Gaeul," you say, "I'm a photojournalist, not a fucking Seattle professional."

"And so are a quarter of the people who go to the fashion week," she counters. Gaeul exhales through her nostrils, then leans forward on her desk, hands folded. "All you have to do is stand in for Chaewon and take the photos for each model. Don't worry about the caption."

"How'll I know what they're wearing?" 

"I can do that for you. I'm quite the fashion enthusiast, if I do say so myself."

You don't see the sense in it, like, at all. "Then why don't you go take the photos?"

"Because I don't want to, newbie," replies Gaeul simply. She swings her legs over the table and places her palms behind her neck. "You can sit here all day whining about I'm-a-photojourn-this and I-can't-do-it-that, but you're still going to go through." 

Gaeul's a rather straightforward girl, yet she can still make her blunt words sound frightening. You have to show that you can hold your own, too, and that you're not going to back up. Ever.

"And why do you think I'll give in so easily?" you challenge. 

She smiles. "Because An Yujin's going to be there, and unless you live under a fucking rock, you'd know she's the main attraction."

-

You aren't dumb. Of course you know her. It’s impossible not to know of her when the magazines all scream her name and the camera flashes crave her presence. It’s hard to navigate life without at least seeing a Yujin standee for one of the brands she sponsors or her face on soju labels. She’s become a household name that, even if you somehow wished it to be the other way, she's become an inescapable force in every Korean’s life. That’s just how it works. It’s been like that for as long as you remember.

She rose up in the industry at a young age. Being her age, you can remember the buzz she creates among your classmates, from head-over-heels, hopeless romantic boys and adoring girls (and a few girls who'd die to be able to touch her, too.) She's on their phone wallpapers, in another cutesie pose, and on the photocards in the back of clear cases. She's here, she's there, she's everything everywhere. 

You're familiar with her, but nothing about her except the usual: she's a model, she's an idol, she's a—

Ah, how should it go?

The girl beside you at the event, who's rather tall and if circumstances were different should be on the runway herself, tells you it goes like this: "She's an international free-use backstabbing slut."

Well, you didn't expect Kazuha to say that so easily (she told you her name earlier just so you had something to call her during the mandatory small talk),  but you know what she's talking about. However, you have no right to say Yujin's a slut when you're dressed… well, dressed like this. Your whole outfit is an embarrassing array of rainbow colors. Even your tie's pulled into passiveness by the colorful dress code. If this is what those high fashion enthusiasts call "fashion," you're glad you're not a part of them. You'll be glad to keep shopping at your local thrift store. 

Hence, "I wouldn't put it that way," you say.

Kazuha smirks. "How would you say it?" she asks. 

Why is she so interested in what you think about her? You suspect Kazuha's one of those girls who's rather jealous of the stick-figure models strutting the runway but would deny it with all her soul. Maybe that's it. She's jealous that she sits there in the audience while perfection after perfection makes themselves known to the public. 

"She's…" You snap a pic of another eighty-pound model walking down the runway. "Uh, promiscuous. That's all."

Kazuha grins. She purses her lips and writes down on her notepad, probably intending to use your statement as a headline pun. "Maybe we should switch jobs," she says. "You can be the devil's advocate journalist, and I can be the white knight photographer." 

Exhale loudly. For fuck's sake, you want to tell her, I'm only here to do the job I didn't want in the first place. Why has she chosen you to play with to fulfill her boredom? Whatever game she's set, you're not joining. 

"Look, what is it about Yujin that you hate?" you ask. 

"She fucked Jang Wonyoung, those MCs she used to partner up with, that actress from the period drama who was on Produce, too… everybody."

"Okay." You look at her pointedly. "Source?" 

Kazuha gestures a rude index to the runway. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me she isn't a slut. I dare you."

You look up from the lens of your camera for once, and as much as you'd like to come to Yujin’s defense, seeing as there’s no evidence to all those allegations and being a public figure with all the criticism must be the deepest ring of hell, you see what Kazuha means. 

You hate to say it, and you’d love to pass no judgment, but the prodding journalist is right. Yujin isn't skin and bones like the other models, nor does she wear light makeup. However, her confident gaze that not once settles on the floor immediately makes you think, wow, now that is a model. She only looks forward, stepping onto the smooth floor in heels that make her much taller than she already is. Her eyes are lined with this sharp, blaring dark that makes her brown contacts stand out and makes her look like a black cat. So much for Jiwon’s nickname.

But that isn’t all. It’s far from done, because it’s not Yujin’s arrogant smile that drips of sultriness that confirms Kazuha's allegations for you, nor is it her makeup. It’s what she’s wearing. Her chest nearly spills out of the oddly-cut neckline of her blouse, and it’s see-through, meaning that even if her busty figure is in some way contained by the clothing, you can still see everything. For example, her tummy lined with her abs and a small tattoo (barely noticeable, but enough to cause a few tabloids to freak out); her wide hips, and of course; the bare flesh of her breasts. The fabric tape does nothing to hide them when her brown nipples beg to be seen through the fabric. Each bounce coerced by her confident strut is out there for all to see, and so are the jiggles of her full thighs. 

Which part of everything do you have to immortalize in a photograph? You don’t know. You just keep taking pictures. There’s plenty enough to create a video of her walk without actually having to record one. 

Seeing your dropped jaw, Kazuha grins satisfactorily. “Told you,” she says.

You aren’t done looking, though. As the press and audience scream her name, (they all know her name—she’s bagged so many brand deals, shot more than enough magazine covers, and performed songs you couldn’t count on two hands just so that any type of audience can recognize her), Yujin steps up to the end of the catwalk. She smiles at all the attention, setting a hand on her waist before blowing several kisses to the audience. 

And, of course, she finishes off her umpteenth walk with another scandal:

Shredding her blouse into pieces. Yujin rips it clean from the seams, letting the lost dangle of fabric finally reveal the whole of her chest. Her skimpy shorts are the only thing remaining complete on herself. 

The viewers gasp, and you do, too. But you're hypocrites, the lot of you, for you remain interested in scanning every bit of her enviable body. Secretly, you all know that some part of you were looking there even before her blouse ripped.

You haven’t seen a model do that before, but then again, she’s not just a model. She’s plenty of things: a singer, an idol, an ambassador—

A slut. A full-on, shameless, lives-up-to-her-name slut.

-

“So.”

“So,” you say, resentfully. Your camera’s in your bag, and Gaeul is on the phone with you. You’re proceeding out of the vicinity like everybody else. It's eight p.m.; someone’s bound to be hungry at this hour, and that someone is you.

You can hear the giggle in her voice as she asks you, “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” you say, flabbergasted. Zip up your satchel bag and walk through the rain. “Gaeul, the girl just ripped her shirt off in front of everyone! This isn’t what I signed up for!”

What should you get tonight? Minute Burger? Maybe McDonald’s or some sushi? You’d take anything—you’re pretty hungry after the long show. If this is how hunger hits after shows, you’re glad you don’t have to go through the whole fashion week. By Saturday, you’d be as dead as everyone was after the stunt Yujin pulled.

“I thought you knew about her, newbie,” replies Gaeul. She’s clearly poking fun at your reaction. What’s also clear is the obvious fact that she picked you out for this job just to see how you’d handle it. Would you go crazy? Treat Yujin as a Victorian man who’d just seen a lady’s ankles would? Oh, she’d love to find out.

“I didn’t know she was…"

"Yeah?"

"B-bold.”

“Oh, please be normal about it. You’re a photojournalist. You handled the dead guy who was stabbed alright, but a woman showing her tits is where you cross the line?”

“It’s not that,” you say tiredly. Your stomach is really growling now. “I guess… I think…”

"Hey."

Your phone drops to the wet cement road. Like a haunting phantom, Yujin appears out of nowhere. It's like she suddenly materialized from the fog of the storm.

You don't know where to look. Yujin's still dressed, (somewhat), in her ruined blouse. The thing is even more transparent as the rain beats down on it. Still, she looks perfect. She is perfect. You know that without having to be a fan of her. 

The light from a camera hidden in a beaten bush makes you flinch. If the crouched man in black taking photos of Yujin isn't there, you'd have accepted your fate to get struck by lightning. Yujin raises her eyebrows questioningly, and you're forced to compose yourself once more.

"Uh, hi," you stammer. Bend down to pick your sodden phone up. Darn it, it's dead. How will you contact Gaeul now?

"You're one of the photographers, right?" asks Yujin. Unlike you, she doesn't care that your phone has met its end, or mind that her boobs are out in the open. 

You mutter something of agreement, but you're still tinkering with your phone. The battery's probably broken, which's a pity when your late mother gifted it to you on the last birthday you had together.

"Damn, must be nice to snap photos of a half-naked chick, huh? You liked seeing me up there?" 

That makes you stop fiddling with your destroyed gadget. "I," you say, cornered into confession but still trying to gather a burst of energy to escape, "I'm not—"

"An Yujin," she says, as if the whole world doesn't scream her name. As if she were just another girl out there who's a little too friendly. She doesn't offer her hand; she grasps yours and shakes it firmly. 

You have no other choice but to be acquainted with her there and then. You tell her your name, albeit nervously, as you slip your phone into your pocket. What is she planning? Why is she out here with you? 

Yujin grins. "Nice to meet you. Want to come to a party at my house? Starts when we get there."

Now you understand what she's planning. What else would you expect from her?

First things first, though: where should you look? Her chest is a dangerous option. To look or not to look? That is the question—you choose the second option. Note the dim stars in the foggy sky. Look down at the road blotted with raindrops. Remark inwardly about the state of your shoes and how they're too expensive to be dragged through a weather like this.

Second, should you go? Gaeul would be looking for you. She'd want the pics immediately so she could put them in the magazine and on your company blog site. But you haven't had fun in years, and for a girl with the wealth and status of Yujin, it might be a new beginning.

Work, however, comes first.

"I'm sorry," you tell her. You really are. Yujin seems like a fun girl outside of her wildness. "I don't think I—"

"Great! Come on, I'll drive you!" 

That's how you end up in a limousine for the first time in your life and learn that An Yujin doesn't take no for an answer. 

The seats are dark and soft, and there's two long aisles of it for thirty pax max to occupy. However, despite the spaciousness, Yujin still chooses to sit snugly beside you. Should you feel flattered? Intimidated? You struggle to choose for this question.

You wonder where you're headed. The infamous Jang Hills where celebrities like singer Son Seungwan and model and humanitarian Jang Wonyoung, who owns the place, reside? The rain is too strong for you to be able to see where the vehicle's headed, but you suspect that's the destination. There's no other. 

"So," says Yujin. She's still sitting comfortably beside you. Her smile dimples her cheeks, and it just doesn't match the boldness of her ripped blouse. When she wears that smile, she looks like a girl who's too cheerful and innocent to be… the way she is. "Would I have to pay you to see my photos?"

"For god's sake, Miss An, put on some clothes before you scare the guy," chuckles the driver, shaking his head. He's a tall, dark man with the typical shades and a rosary on his rearview mirror. You wonder if he prays for Yujin sometimes. 

"But that's no fun," she says, the pout on her face growing wider when her driver tosses her a black fur coat (that still reminds you of her when you note how the chest part is gone) and sleeveless innerwear. Seems like he keeps clothes in his car for situations like these. "Clothes are so big and boring, you know. Totally outdated.

"Anyway, about the photos…?" 

"Oh, you don't have to pay," you tell her. But you know that money isn't a problem with Yujin—she can buy you and your whole life if she chose to. 

"Gimme then." She makes grabby hands, and your camera eventually ends up in them. Her eyes sparkle with narcissistic adoration. "Oh damn, I look hot. Delete this, though. Bad angle."

"I– okay." 

"My tits look amazing, don't you think? Come on, say my tits look fantastic."

"Ms. An," says the driver firmly, albeit his tone holds some of the amusement in it still. "Put on some clothes."

Yujin rolls her eyes, but she does. And you watch as she strips, painfully slow. She pulls the soaked blouse above her wet body, showing her bare, beautiful arms and pits. Even her soft midriff is perfect. And, try as you may (must),  you can't stop looking. Several snaps and pinches would be too weak to pull you back into reality, because there's the goddess that she is to look at. You figure out now why your former classmates were and still are obsessed with her. She may be a wild little thing, but she's got an amazing body, an amazing fashion sense. Everything about her, even her boldness, is enviable. Desirable. Unreachable.

The clothes mold to her beautiful shape. The damp, slightly messy hair only adds to her beauty. You can feel yourself getting warm. 

"We're here," says Yujin cheerfully, oblivious to the way your eyes are raking down her perfect body. "Here's your camera. Wouldn't want it to break like your phone. Pity."

Getting up to open the car door isn't part of a wealthy girl's everyday life. Yujin isn’t an exception—she has her driver to do that plus assist her out of the limo, and when he does, you're welcomed into a whole new world.

The rain has halted. Signs of its earlier presence, however, can be seen on the drops on the maze of bushes. There's statues of Eros, gray and mighty with his strong arms and arrows, perched on pedestals to the entrance of the mansion. Through the gate, you catch sight of a large pool, where heiresses and friends of Yujin laugh and swim. It's no land for lowlives. You are the exception, somehow. 

"This… this is your house?" 

"Yep!” She nods positively. “Daddy gave it to me after he died from a heart attack."

"My condolences," you say. As the guards open the gate to Yujin's mansion, you admire the place. It looks like a temple for cupids. Perhaps it’s Yujin they’re worshiping.  "Did he have heart conditions before that?"

"No." She shakes her head then waves happily to one of her friends at the pool. "He just saw me wearing a bra over my crop top, and he dropped dead."

You snort. Yujin looks at you weirdly. That's how you realize she isn't kidding. 

"You're serious?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but forgets it. It's a long story that doesn't need more sequels. 

-

Just the second drink of the night and you’ve met more celebrities than an average person would see personally in their whole life. As the dazzling disco ball shimmers rainbow colors all over the place, you catch sight of more than plenty of pretty and handsome faces. Over there is Jang Wonyoung, one of the models who walked earlier, and Miyawaki Sakura, a famous CEO of more beauty lines than you can count on ten fingers. Whether their beauties are handcrafted or God-given, they all have something in common: they’re all A-listers—they’re relevant, popular, used to this wild lifestyle. Camera flashes have trained them not to flinch at the gliding lights. This is an everyday routine in their book.

However, you’re used to being behind the camera, not in front of it. You’re overstimulated by the sea of laughing, moving bodies and the loud music. While Yujin happily screams and downs several shots, you stand idly beside her, dizzy and tired. 

“I don’t think I can handle more.”

“Past your bedtime?” asks Yujin, grinning. She waves at Wonyoung and points at you, mouthing something to her, to which the model winks in response. You wonder what kind of exchange the two models had that granted an unusually smug look on Wonyoung’s face. You’re certain it’s about you, but you don’t know what it’s about. You’re not even sure if you want to discover it.

“It’s not that,” you say embarrassedly. “I’m… I’m not a party person. I get lightheaded easily.”

“Wanna take a break? Go to my room?”

Now that’s a red flag. It doesn't even try to hide its true color; it waves proudly in front of you. You’re the bull who went straight for it. 

Yujin’s bedroom is the size of your living room, with a large bed to match. Curtained pillars stand on each end while posters hang off the walls. You suppose that the people on them are the ones Yujin looks up to: IU, known as Lee Jieun whenever she ventures out of singing and into acting; Marilyn Monroe (no explanation needed), and a few other nameless models and actresses. A lot are old posters of seventies’ pornographic films. Lights frame the mirror on the dresser table. 

“You’re a privileged girl, miss An,” you say. It’s the only way you can respectfully say that she’s kind of a spoiled brat. But maybe that’s your jealousy talking.

“I know, right?” replies Yujin, twirling around. “And please, call me Yujin. You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

Your mind toys with the idea of the posters on her wall debating if you’re the hundredth person to have come over or the thousandth. Nevertheless, you want to stay neutral; it’s none of your business anyway. So you take a seat on the edge of the softest mattress you’ve ever felt while Yujin does so, too. She kicks her boots off on the carpeted floor. 

“Hey,” says Yujin, “want to play a game before you doze off?”

Just how many red flags does this girl have? “Er, sure.” You shrug. Maybe it’s just a game, nothing more, like she said. 

“Since we barely know each other, let’s take turns asking each other questions. Dibs on the first question.

“I haven’t seen you in shows before. How did you end up there?”

A safe start. “One of my coworkers was sick,” you explain. “I had to fill in for her. My turn.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you take modeling classes?”

Yujin laughs as if it was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “God, no,” she says. “Classes and workshops are scams. All I had to do was ask my daddy to ask for a spot for me.”

“Must be nice.”

“Right? Did you take classes for photography?”

“I took one of the scams, yeah,” you say, earning a giggle from Yujin. “I’m a journalist first. It’s all I know.”

Meaningful silence fills the air. You remain hooked on your sentence, realizing how true it is. Photojournalism is the only thing you’re good at. It’s sheltered you and brought you so many opportunities at the same time. You don’t know how to find other hobbies to make your forte when you’re stuck in its bubble, and its bubble only. Without your camera, you’re nothing. Without people like Yujin to take photos of, you’re nothing, too. 

You suppose you should break the heavy silence. But you’re unsure if your question should be asked; it might trigger a violent response from her, although she’s been nothing but laid-back with you. And you don’t particularly want a rich girl to ruin your career. You’ve gone so far that the only direction to look at is forward.

But you must learn to take risks.

"Is it true? What they say about you?" 

You're nervous, fidgeting  in the king-sized bed with your arm leaning against the mattress. It feels odd to be in a rich and attractive girl's place without being naked. Not that it's something you've experienced before anyway, but it's like breaking an unspoken law everyone but you was oriented to. But you have your manners, and so does she. Supposedly.

She's still beside you, her expensive clothes hiding not her shapely form. And to think it looks beautiful without the need for oil painting all around it or nakedness. That pretty smile, that also intimidates you a little, is the cherry on top of the cake that is An Yujin.

Speaking of, there's one right now between her lips. She's toying with its strand of a twig, tracing the cherry she got from the bowl beside her bed along the pink hills of her luscious mouth.

"After everything I did," Yujin says, "what do you think?" 

"I don't really…" Struggle to find your words. "I, I don't really dwell on—"

"If I'm a slut or not?" Yujin finishes for you, smiling teasingly. 

This conversation's a mistake, now that she's using words about a subject you tried to tread on lightly. "Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, I'm sorry."

"No offense taken. I get it."

Yujin lifts herself off her comfortable lounge position on her bed and instead sits on the backsides of her legs. Her hands are on your lap rather than her own. Should've been a sign for you that this is going nowhere but in a downward spiral. 

"You want to know if the rumors are true? If nepo model An Yujin's really a slut, like they all say?"

"Uh… sure?" 

Yujin gestures her chin to your crotch. "Whip out your dick. Then you'll see."

You’re flustered. Did Yujin—this tall, alluring model that’s got her whole life ahead of her yet nothing to lose, this irritatingly attractive Yujin—really say that to you? Or was it something lost in the swarms of shouts and music from outside of the room? Maybe you’ve misheard. Maybe you’ll keep playing safe tonight. 

But those are just mere maybes with no connection at all to what’s about to happen.

“Can’t do it yourself, pretty boy? Let me help you.”

Yujin lifts your satchel bag from your shoulders. You find yourself raising your arms to help her. It’s like the what and tension in the air have infected you and made you into this heated, lustful character far from the real you, because if this were truly your own self, you’d say you had a career. You’d say this shouldn’t be happening. You’d leave the room instead of helping her unbuckle your belt. You’d do anything but this.

Perhaps she’s changed you.

Yujin slips a tongue along the path of her luscious lips at the sight of your bare thighs and cock. “Our friend here,” she says, “needs a little help from me, no?”

“Yujin…” you moan, and it’s humiliating, especially when barely anything sexual has happened yet. At least, anything sexually physical. 

Luckily for you, she curls her fist around your dick and gives justification to your breathy sounds. Maybe the rumors about how she likes to get around are true; Yujin knows how to work her way with a cock. Her warm fingers jerk your flesh at just the right timing, letting the hardness build up before doing that too with the pace. She’s looking at you with this wild desire in her eyes that grows bigger when your erection does, too. Oh, and that smile—if looks could kill, An Yujin would already be arrested for your murder.

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?” she remarks. She spits on your cock. Her wet saliva coats your length with just enough to let her smooth palm slide along itself pleasurably. “You like this? Just wait until you feel my pussy. Or maybe my lips would do first? The higher ones, I mean.” 

Yujin’s lips descend onto your shaft, welcoming it into an impossibly soft and wet heaven. Yujin’s little tongue flicks at your base gently, even daring to lick at a little part of your balls before working their way up. It deliciously slides upwards at your veins.

“Fuck, Yujin. Your mouth—fuck, it feels so good.”

“Mmm.” Yujin engages in an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss with your tip. “I know. I’d fuck me, too, if I could, but I have you to do that.”

“Right,” you say breathily, because she is. If she’s sucking your cock this well and her cheek’s painfully stimulating as your cockhead brushes it, how much better would her pussy be? You’re definitely fucking her, even if your experience in this is zero. Yes, that’s also right: you’re a virgin. Zero experience, no bitches.

But, if it means anything, it’s the other way around. It’s Yujin making you her bitch. She may be serving you with the lips and kisses of a good girl, but her eyes tell you that there’s more to it than you think. You’re hers, see, for this night, and that’s all you ever will be. You’re no photojournalist anymore—you’re Yujin’s one night stand, and that’s the only achievement people will ever remember to your name.

“These’re so fucking full,” murmurs Yujin as she admires your heavy balls. Sucking on them lightly before smiling up at you, she adds, “Make sure to blow all of it in my face, ‘kay? Promise me.”

“Think you can handle it, Yujin?” you ask, and it’s another embarrassing moment you’ll relive forever, for your cockiness will never get on the level she has. Your voice shakes too hard and your cock drips too much—it’s clear who owns who at this point.

“I’m a big girl.” Unfazed, she smiles. “I can handle myself.”

“Y-you sure?”

“Oh, don’t play hard to get it, baby,” Yujin coos. She pleases you with one hand and glides her fingers on your thigh with the other. It’s deadly. She’s deadly. “Let your guard down. It’s just me.”

“And you’ve said that to how many people?” you shoot back.

“More than you’re worth,” she quips. She winks at you. “Now cum for me.”

Ouch, but it doesn’t matter when her lips provide a great suction to cool the burn. It’s making your cock feel the heat instead, forming the tightness in your stomach more. Her hands massaging your thighs causes your sensitivity to reach an all-time high. Yujin’s covered your shaft in such an amountful that just one lick sends your toes curling. She licks, she sucks, she laps at your weak spots and delights in the upward push of your hips, but her hands keep your legs down. Can’t have her meal escaping. She wants all of your cum, and when Yujin wants (no, needs) something, she gets it. It’s how she’s navigated life, having everything her heart could ever want brought to her by whim. But if she has to work for your cum, then so be it. Either-which-way, she’s not giving up until she gets it.

She kisses your cock deeply, almost making your lips jealous. She sucks on each sensitive side and your dripping tip. What takes the cake, though, is how she downs the whole thing so suddenly, slipping itself inside her tight throat and letting you fuck it. Gasps can’t be contained by your pursed lips, and their cycle of repetition continues because of her. Because of Yujin, Yujin and her stupidly desirable mouth.

“Fuck,” you whine. When she hears that, she pulls away. Like rain, drops of semen make slick landings on her face. You keep expelling several shots of the thing she so desperately wants, and you realize that, even with your own pleasure being fulfilled, you’re still serving Yujin. You’re still giving her what she wants: your cum on her face. The fact that she’s playing with you remains stoic.

“Ah, this is the best.” Yujin licks her cumstained lips. “I could have swallowed it all like I did with these cherries here, but I can’t let it spoil the main course.”

“W-which is?” you inquire, still panting. Can you handle more? 

You find out through Yujin taking off her black vest. Then, she slips out of her jean skirt. It hugs her lower figure so nicely that it nearly makes you mourn their departure, but you find a better thing to gawk at, and it’s Yujin’s ass and thighs. She may have dressed earlier, but the panties were off. She cares not for modesty, even outside of the modeling industry.  It’s just not who she is. 

For that, you’re glad. If Yujin were modest, you wouldn’t have had the chance to see her fat ass and shaven pussy up close. You wouldn’t get to see her sway her hips side to side, letting you see from behind how her ass ripples and bounces, or let you peer at her dripping thighs. 

"You're weaker than all the others," Yujin notes. "I like it."

Should you be offended? Probably, but you aren't, because there's her approval. There's her saying that she likes how easily you break. There's her on the bed with her pussy spread by her fingers, revealing her tiny hole and needy clit.

There's a lot to look at is what you're saying, and a lot to take in consideration. For example—

"Ohhhh, fuck," moans Yujin. She rubs her core and gets a feel of how wet she is. "I'm so wet, see? I'm so, fuck, wet from blowing you."

Yujin leans against one of the pillars of her bed. What makes the sight of her masturbating hotter is that she's still covered in the face with cum that soon drips down her neck and onto her collarbone. She looks like she's been used incessantly, to the point where no amount of cock or finger can help her reach a good enough high. Although you're still sensitive, you begin to jack yourself off to her.

"Shit. Ohhh." Her head tosses backwards and she shuts her eyes. "This feels so good. Make me feel even better. Use your mouth."

It's all about what she wants, but you find out that you also want to put your mouth on her. Stop jerking off to kneel on the floor and place your hands on her thick thighs. You have no idea how to do this except from porn, but she moans loudly when you flick your tongue upwards, so you must be doing well.

Yujin's so wet that she dribbles on her expensive sheets. The feminine scent of her drives you crazy. Due to that, you pick up the pace of eating Yujin out. She's delicious. Better than any expensive meal you got going out. 

"Oh, fuck," mewls Yujin. She grinds her clit down on the flat of your tongue. "That's it. Eat me out like that."

Next, guide your tongue to her slit, catching the juices she has. Push it inside, make her thighs suddenly clamp around your head. Painful, but worth it, because as useful as her makeshift earmuffs are, you can still make out her heavy moans.

“G-good, god, so good. Don’t you stop, don’t you fucking stop.” 

“I won’t.”

The force of your mouth holds nothing back as it holds Yujin’s nub captive. She pulses in your mouth, and you can sense that she’s close because she’s screaming. She's squirming, she's writhing, she's—

“Stop.”

“But I, I thought you said—” You were having such a good time, too. Why did she have to ruin it?

Yujin giggles. “I wanted to cum on your cock,” she confesses. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face. “Let me?”

She’s subtly assertive like that, asking you first before making you do it anyway. She’s so used to getting her way, so used to letting people bend reality into the form she wants. And you’re becoming one of those people, as you lie down on the bed and let her mount you. You don’t suppose anyone would refuse either—her splayed lips rubbing your tip seems like a good thing to have in exchange for being under her ownership.

“Fuck,” you curse. Maybe this is better, in hindsight. Her hole grasps for you, but she teases it by only letting her clit glide along your cock. “Miss An, ah, Yujin, you’re so—”

“Pretty? Successful? Tight?” She sinks down on your dick with a smirk that differs from your weakened look of bliss. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

They’re all perfect adjectives to describe her, but you weigh in the most on the last. Her soaked slit swallows you without time to properly take it in. She just keeps bouncing on you, a millisecond going unspared, as if she’d die if your cock weren’t ramming in her all times of the day. By her desperate moans, you think you’re right. They’re heavy, hanging onto your mind for too long that it just makes you throb harder inside. 

You reach up to grab her tits. The bra-like innerwear she dons blocks you from experiencing the whole of it, and Yujin takes that into consideration, through which she pulls it up her arms and off herself. Her bust now moves up and down freely, looped in your mind like a constant reminder of how lucky you are to have Yujin fuck you. She may get around a lot, but whoever she fucks is like her: a hell of a catch.

 You lift yourself up to suck on their brown nipples. She moans ferally. Her pushing your head deeper into her tits is how you realize you’ve wanted to do this, to suck and play and slap her chest, ever since you saw them be set free on the runway. It’s funny how two mounds of flesh can hypnotize you just like that. You’re trying to defeat the impulse actions they convince you to do, as if they were spiritual entities on your shoulder each to twist your decisions. But both are devils—even from their source, it’s clear that An Yujin is no angel.

“Yes, so good!” she screams. Her eyes are shut as she rides you with an impulse and speed that surely can’t be human. The pleasure she unleashes onto your cock as her pussy clings and gropes it must be the embodiment of the deadly sin of lust itself. It was written before in holy books, preached as a warning in churches. There’s no explanation for how angrily she impales herself with your cock. “Your cock’s too fucking big, I’m going to cum all over it!”

You spank her ass, and the plentiful skin wiggles right back into your hand. Seeing her face twist up into this pained yet blissful reaction inspires you to continue. That and your cock entering and exiting her hole, plus your kisses following the path of her neck makes Yujin go crazy. 

“Fuck me!” She’s fully unhinged when she cums. Her short yet sharp, alliterate downward thrusts of her core leaves red on your thighs. She’s kissing you with this hunger that’s been fulfilled, in a way, but with which comes gluttony. She can’t have enough. She can’t have enough of your dick. It starts to scare you how she’s like the girls your pastor warned you about in Sunday school—she’s a gluttonous nymphomaniac greedy for things that aren’t good for her. Aren’t good for you.

Having sex with An Yujin makes you debate if you should go back to your religious roots and pray again. You’ve heard about the devil hiding behind human faces, and she completely fits the criteria: charming, deceiving, gorgeous beyond human comprehension. However, her divine body also can be something holy. It’s something that’s more than worth worshiping.

Which is which: evil or good? Angel or demon? A goddess who descended to earth or something far, far more dangerous? 

Whichever, you just busted a load inside exactly that. 

-

“So.”

“Hm?”

“Come on, tell me,” you say. Yujin’s teasing banter piques your curiosity to higher levels. “Did you really fuck all those people, or is it just,” shrug, as if you couldn’t care less when you do, “you know, hearsay?”

Yujin strokes your chest thoughtfully. The aftermath of the rough sex has left her almost invalid, but after a shower, she’s good to go. You followed suit after.

“The devil’s telephone,” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“Here. You know where to call me.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #an yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #izone yujin smut #ive yujin smut #yujin smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

[gyundo]

“My Temptation”

Choi Soobin (Soobin) x Male Reader

SMUT! DNI if under 18

Hyung kink, musk kink, size kink, muscle kink

Plot: Choi Soobin, the most kindest and sweetest person Y/N couldn’t even have dreamt of, walked right into both his heart and his life one fine afternoon. Attraction and love blossom, creating a masterpiece of an evening.

Y/N had always remembered being lonely and feeling neglected for a number of years. His father had always been working to allow a good lifestyle for his son, while his mother, due to not wanting to raise a child, had left him before he could remember.

Y/N, growing up as a child with a father too exhausted to play with him, now was in college, but still living at home. He couldn’t move out because he had nobody but his father, and he also felt lonely due to not being able to make any friends in college. Accustomed to the loneliness, he just didn’t know how to make friends quickly and often stayed away from too much socialization.

While studying in the library one afternoon, Y/N’s eyes were caught by a very handsome stranger. He had never seen him before, but his eyes looked full of purity and cleanliness. His lips, although plump, seemed like they had been painted by the worlds most talented artists. With perfect corners and transition from thick tissue to thin, Y/N realized he had never even seen a girl with such beautiful lips.

His nose, also beautiful and uniquely shaped, attracted him even more, while the smile of the man, who seemed to have solved a particularly difficult problem on his iPad, absolutely stole Y/N’s heart.

Y/N fiercely wanted to bring himself to talk to the boy whose radiating beauty was unmatched, but this was not necessary.

The handsome stranger, having adept peripheral vision, had noticed Y/N looking at him for quite some time. Feeling alone at college himself and looking for friends, he got up and walked to Y/N’s table.

“Hey, can I sit here. You seem a bit lonely?” Soobin questioned, hopefully.

“Um-Uh- Please do. I’m Y/N by the way, I live close by and I’m a sociology major,” the former blurted out. His eyes looked nervous, still processing Soobin’s height and how it added to his already impressive qualities.

Aware of Y/N’s clear attraction to him, Soobin swiftly replied, “Yeah, I’d like to sit next to you too. My name’s Soobin, and I’m a second year music major. You’re handsome, by the way”.

Y/N’s face immediately turned red and he turned away, embarrassed by Soobin’s words but attracted to him even more. Y/N was absolutely flustered that Soobin thought he was handsome, and Y/N felt a strange desire to become very close with him.

Y/N was barely able to study, more focused on the attractive man in front of him, and Soobin caught him staring more than once, winking at him each time. This made Y/N blush even harder, knowing that Soobin knew Y/N was clearly attracted.

Aside from his face, Soobin’s toned arms seemed so perfect to Y/N, they were slender enough to compliment his height, while also clearly looking strong with a decent amount of visible veins. Y/N’s mind wandered as he thought about how Soobin slapping his ass while having sex would hurt because of his strength, but in a good way. He quickly looked up at the man, and Soobin knew Y/N had been fantasizing about him from how long he’d been staring at him.

Soobin wanted to tease Y/N even more, and to do this, he pretended he needed to stretch, leaning back to grab Y/N’s attention before stretching intentionally too far, revealing his abs.

The perfection of the shape of the lower two abs made drool literally come out of Y/N’s mouth, and he wanted to see more.

His ego satisfied by Y/N’s undeniable fascination, Soobin decided not to tease Y/N any further about his drooling.

Y/N said goodbye to Soobin a half-hour later with a heavy heart, as he had to arrive home early for an important matter that his father had asked him to come home early for.

“It’s funny that I have to leave right now, too. Can I get your number?” Soobin questioned Y/N.

Y/N, extremely excited that the older was interested in him, gave him his number and immediately checked all of his social media on the way home to make sure that Soobin wasn’t straight and just playing with him.

To Y/N’s luck, Soobin definitely appeared like he was genuinely interested in him, and he walked home briskly with a smile. He opened the door to see something he never would have imagined.

“Glad you arrived home safe, Y/N,” his father greeted, “The woman sitting on the right in front of me, Ahn Young, and I have been seeing each other for some time now, and we are going to get married next month. The young man on the left is Soobin, her son. He’s a year older than you and attends the same college. I know this is a lot for you to take in, but please take time to get to know Soobin and Ahn Young well, they’re great people”.

Y/N was more shocked to see Soobin at his home, who was his soon-to-be stepbrother, than he was to the news that his father was getting married.

Struggling for words, Y/N replied, “I’m so happy that you’ve found someone to make you feel whole again, dad. Ahn Young must really be a great woman if you’ve chosen her, and I openly welcome her and Soobin into our family. I’ll do my best to get to know both of them”.

Y/N’s father was extremely relieved, after fearing what Y/N’s reaction would be. Soobin stared at Y/N with a sexy smirk that only Y/N understood. They all ate dinner together, and Y/N, in a fashion to talk with Soobin about the recent developments, invited him to stay over for the night, a gesture that made all parties happy.

“So, um, I guess you’re my stepbrother now, Soobin,” Y/N said with mixed emotions. After a long time, Y/N found someone he really connected with and was feeling attracted to, but he was Y/N’s own stepbrother.

Soobin, wanting to show Y/N that the recent news was nothing to be saddened about, lifted his chin up, forcing Y/N to look into his eyes, whispering, “This is nothing more than a chance for us to get closer. We really should get to know each other better, don’t you think”. He said this all while biting his lip, making Y/N fall even more for him.

Y/N and Soobin slept peacefully that night, and before long, they started spending all their time together. Y/N lovingly began to call Soobin hyung, and they studied together, while also preparing for their parents’ wedding, which came sooner than expected.

The day of the wedding, Soobin and Y/N also became real stepbrothers, which meant they could finally do what stepbrothers do. They were both so happy to be in each other’s company, and soon, the family moved into a new home.

Unfortunately, due to wedding and honeymoon costs, the new house was a little bit on the smaller side, so Soobin and Y/N had to share not only their room, but what was Y/N’s old bed.

Y/N was very nervous about following boundaries between step-siblings, especially with Soobin being so attractive and purposely teasing Y/N too much.

While their parents went on their honeymoon, Soobin took the teasing up a notch. He began to purposely walk around the house shirtless, and enjoyed seeing the lustful expressions on Y/N’s face. Y/N kept trying to hide his attraction and maintain a sibling-like relationship, but Soobin wasn’t having it. He’d often sit a little too close to Y/N, purposely wearing short underwear around the house to show off his muscular thighs. Y/N wanted nothing more than to sit on Soobin’s thighs and ride his dick, but he managed to control himself once again.

Soobin intentionally began lifting weights in the middle of the living room to show off his strength to Y/N, and Y/N couldn’t get over how sexy Soobin looked with his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat that smelt a little like Soobin, a little bit of peach from his perfume, and a whole lot of manly musky testosterone that had Y/N’s lower body losing control.

He had to run into the bathroom more than once while seeing Soobin exercise, primarily to hide his very clear hard-on that Soobin knew he was the cause of. He intentionally gave Y/N a hug right after he was all done, and Y/N could feel all of ridges of Soobin’s abs that made him want to lick them all over. The pressure from his amazingly built pectoral muscles made Y/N go absolutely crazy, wanting him to feel Soobin’s body above him. But more than anything, the smell of Soobin’s sweetness mixed with musk made Y/N very visibly look like he was in a trance, as he could not help but sniff Soobin’s neck all over.

Soobin, extremely excited, could not wait for them to sleep in the same bed and to finally make Y/N his. As far as he had gotten from talking to Y/N, Y/N was a virgin and never had anyone even touch him, which only made excited Soobin. Soobin slowly pulled away from Y/N, but Y/N quickly pulled him back, touching his hands all over Soobin’s sweaty back and kissing him.

Y/N was so desperate for Soobin, he didn’t even realize that he had taken the initiative to kiss Soobin. Soobin delicately held up Y/N’s face and moved his tongue inside. Their tongues engaged in a beautiful dance that made Y/N moan in pleasure. He had never kissed before, and Soobin knew exactly how to make him feel good.

Despite a lack of any other action, Y/N had a very fucked-out expression when Soobin finally broke the kiss. As Y/N realized what he did, the thick string of saliva connecting the two’s mouths told the story loud and clear.

Y/N was embarrassed that he crossed the boundaries of a stepbrother relationship, but Soobin looked at him with desire. Y/N couldn’t help but feel horny at the sight of his half-naked stepbrother, whose body looked like that of a Greek god and whose bulge he couldn’t wait to explore.

Speechless from then until dinner, Y/N and Soobin ate in silence, both exchanging glances at each other until Soobin couldn’t take it any longer.

“N/n-ie, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted to kiss you too, that’s why I came so close to you in the first place,” Soobin explained.

“I get that hyung, but i’m really not sure if we should be doing that. I get that we really are attracted to each other, especially me, but that was before we became related. I’m really not sure what to do,” Y/N responded with a frown.

Soobin, knowing that actions speak louder than words, decided to show Y/N what their relationship should be later that night.

The two finished eating, and Y/N quickly got into bed. Soobin took off his boxers right in front of Y/N before getting in bed.

Y/N’s mouth watered as he was Soobin’s monstrously sized cock. So thick that it was two fingers wide when soft, and it was so long that it went almost halfway down Soobin’s huge thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that every part of his stepbrother was a sin waiting to happen, and so he turned away from Soobin as he got into bed.

Soobin saw and knew Y/N’s reaction, so as he turned to Y/N’s side, he whispered, “Didn’t know a cock could be so big, Y/N?”

Y/N muttered, “Yes hyung, I’ve never seen one as big as yours. Everything on your body is so sexy and it’s so hard to control myself, especially when you’re in the same bed as me.

Soobin’s cock pressed up against Y/N’s bubble butt, and he felt its girth and length, along with its warmness, very clearly.

“You really don’t have to, my Y/N, my body belongs to you and yours does to me,” Soobin whispered again before proceeding to stealthily lick Y/N’s ear.

“F-fuck hyung, you’re really so hot. I can feel your dick right against me and it’s so enticing. I genuinely have never seen a man as hot as you, you make me too horny. Help me now hyung,” Y/N said with pure lust, no longer able to think logically after knowing a naked Soobin, ready to breed him, was lying down close to him.

Y/N felt Soobin’s cock grow larger against his ass, and he responded by moving his ass up and down.

“Hah, Y/N, you’re so cute and breedable, and I’m gonna make it happen today,” Soobin groaned with his head back.

Without any warning, Soobin pushed Y/N down while simultaneously pushing himself above him, grabbing his face and kissing him. The movement released enough musk for visible hearts to appear in Y/N’s eyes, as he made a face that could only be compared to ahegao. He was high on the smell of Soobin himself, sweat releasing pheromones from his hard workout in the living room.

Soobin firmly kissed Y/N, as the younger parted his lips to allow for his tongue’s entry. The harmony between their tongues filled both of their mouths with heated affections that both could not get enough of.

Y/N’s body began heating up as Soobin rubbed his huge erection against Y/N’s. He felt so small and petite under his bigger stepbrother, and he loved being covered by his large body and his irresistible musk.

Breaking the kiss, Soobin took off Y/N’s shorts with one of his hands, while another went under his shirt and began pressing against his pink buds. Y/N moaned at the sudden touching, but he enjoyed the stimulation.

Taking his shirt off as well, Soobin began to suck powerfully on Y/N’s virgin nipples, making tingly feelings emerge all of Y/N’a body as he yelped. Soobin put his large fingers in his little dongsaeng’s mouth.

“Mm-Hah,hyung, your fingers are so long and veiny,” Y/N muttered as he grabbed the elder’s hands with his own tiny ones to lick them properly all over. They just tasted so good to Y/N, and the length gave him practice for what was to come.

Taking his hand out of his mouth, Soobin flipped Y/N over as he put a finger into Y/N’s virgin hole.

“Binnie hyung, it feels really weird,” Y/N complained.

“Be a good little stepbrother for your Soobin hyung, hmm? It’s because you’ve never had anything in this tight little hole, but that’ll change from now on,” Soobin sexily announced.

Soobin put another finger inside Y/N, scissoring him open well enough for the pinkness inside him to be seen.

“H-hyung, it’s too much, I-I’ve never had so much happening down there,” Y/N moaned.

“You have no clue what too much is,” Soobin hungrily answered before moving his fingers in and out of Y/N faster and faster to get him used to it.

“A-Ah-Ahn-Ahn,” Y/N moaned out of unexpected pleasure from Soobin’s action, causing the older to smile.

Feeling like Y/N was prepared, Soobin slapped Y/N’s ass firmly, causing it to open up. Soobin’s strength felt exactly like what Y/N had previously thought it would, bringing him even more excitement and impatience.

“Ready for hyung’s huge cock to wreck your hole and give you a sinful delight?”Soobin questioned.

Y/N replied, both as a front and out of genuine concern, “h-hyunggie, is it really okay that we do this?”

“Of course, my cute dongsaeng, you’ve wanted me for so long it’s not fair to both you and me to stop here. I wanna fill you up with my seed so bad,” Soobin whispered before grabbing Y/N roughly for a kiss once again.

Soobin positioned his cock right above Y/N and pushed lightly again his hole. With a nod from Y/N, Soobin thrusted 8 of his 10 inches straight into Y/N at once.

“h-h-HYUNG,” Y/N cried out from the feeling of being filled. Solving was just so big that he knew Y/N would fear taking him gradually, so he did it all at once.

“It-it-HURTS, hyung,” Y/N muttered as Soobin began to kiss him deeply to distract him from the pain and let him adjust.

“Are you ready now, Y/N?” Soobin asked.

Y/N nodded and Soobin began thrusting slowly, earning a light moan from Y/N. Soobin loved the feeling of the Y/N’s tightness enveloping his hole, and unconsciously began to thrust faster.

Although it felt weird initially, the way Soobin’s large, bulbous tip stimulated his prostate made Y/N’s body tingle and ascend to a level of pleasure he didn’t know possible.

“F-fuck me more, bin hyungie,” Y/N moaned out.

“Anything for my little brother,” Soobin responded while he gagged Y/N with his fingers and thrusted faster.

His hole being abused by his stepbrother’s large cock and Soobin’s fingers roughly playing with Y/N’s tongue, he nearly felt himself come, moving his hand to climax by jerking himself off.

Soobin’s free hand slapped Y/N’s hand off and he flipped him over, pulling out his cock suddenly in the process.

“You’ll come from only hyung’s dick. My cock better be enough for you, and I’ll show you what it can really do. You’ve awakened a beast that you’ll regret and your ass will love, Y/N,” Soobin angrily growled.

Moving both of his hands to Y/N’s neck to choke his lightly, Soobin thrusted all of his cock back in, earning a grunt from Y/N, who couldn’t make any more sounds.

Soobin’s huge dick rubbed against Y/N’s velvety walls fully, not leaving an inch untouched, and the speed at which it bulged Y/ab’s abdomen was incomprehensible.

With his prostate being abused and Y/N obsessed with the thought of getting wrecked by his stepbrother who also happened to be Soobin, a man whose sexiness was unmatched, it was too much for Y/N.

“H-hyungie, i-it’s too much,” Y/N muttered as he felt more stimulated than he knew possible.

“You can take it more my precious baby boy,” Soobin curtly replied as he slapped Y/N’s ass hard, earning a cute moan from the younger.

Wanting to wreck Y/N more than he could account for verbally, Soobin thrusted harder and more roughly than even before, causing Y/N to simply move along with his powerful thrusts with an open mouth and his tongue out.

Y/N continued moaning without stopping as Soobin pushed Y/N’s ass down, causing his back to arch and Y/N’s prostate unable to process the pleasure caused by each thrust of Soobin’s cock.

“Your hole is so tight and perfectly made for me, Y/N-ie,” Soobin moaned out as he felt himself bottom out inside the younger. He felt so good about being the first inside his stepbrother, and made sure to let him know that nobody could do him better.

“You’re all mine Y/N, tell everyone who fucks you this good your first time,” Y/N’s hyung told him as he continued to thrust deeply inside Y/N, so much so that Y/N was sure his hole wouldn’t ever be able to close again.

“S-Soobin hyung is the one I belong to. SOOBIN HYUNG IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN WRECK ME THIS GOOD. SOOBIN HYUNGGGG,” Y/N moaned out as Soobin nearly brought him to cum.

Y/N heard the spurts inside his ass as Soobin’s precum made his walls wet and swollen from the thrusting, prompting Soobin to thrust in quicker and much smoother.

Feeling his climax coming, Soobin muttered, “My dongsaeng, it’s time to come. I’ll fill you up with the cum of your hyung that you’ve needed and i’ll make you pregnant. I’ll fill you so much that you won’t even be able to sit down without thoughts of your hyung wrecking you.”

“HAH, YES SOOBIN HYUNG, MAKE ME PREGNANT AND FILL ME UP WITH YOUR SPERM. MARK ME AS YOURS,” Y/N screeched out as the older bit on his neck roughly, leaving a mark of their time together.

The smell of Soobin’s sweat and look of sexiness on his face was it for Y/N, and he released cum like a fountain just as Soobin hit his prostate especially hard in his own desire to reach his climax.

Soobin wasn’t done as he kept grunting with each thrust and holding the small boy tightly to his muscular body, placing one arm around the younger’s belly to feel his own cock.

Feeling Y/N’s tight walls closing in and twitching, Soobin’s monstrous cock became rock hard as he animalitically thrusted deep into Y/N for the last time, releasing three weeks worth of semen into his dongsaeng.

So much cum surrounded Soobin’s 10 inches deep inside Y/N, overstimulating him to the point of coming again.

Soobin licked the cum off of the younger’s chest as he pulled out, with so much of his cum leaking out that Y/N was struggling to make it seem like he didn’t wet the bed.

With a growl, Soobin filled Y/N with his cock once again, using it as a butt plug, and leaving Y/N feeling extremely satisfied after being wrecked by his hot, hunky, and huge stepbrother.

“I want to do this again hyung,” Y/N moaned out from having thoroughly enjoyed having his virginity taken by his monster of a stepbrother.

“Of course, my temptation,” Soobin replied as cum continued to leak out of Y/N’s reddened, inflamed boy pussy.

Author’s Note: This took a long time to finish, but I hope you all enjoy. There is a top Soobin drought right now, and I wanted to fix that. Feel free to leave a comment on how I did below!

#txt x male reader #txt twitter #txt soobin #soobin txt #soobin x male reader #choi soobin x male reader #kpop smut #smut fic #kpop x male reader #soobin smut #txt smut #txt imagines #male reader #m/n #y/n #kpop x male reader smut #hybe #hybe family #hybe x male reader #hybe entertainment #big hit #big hit entertainment #kpop muscle #choi soobin x male reader smut #txt x male reader smut #soobin x male reader smut

[megistusdiary]

I can’t believe no one’s suggested this yet but TIGHNARI + mushrooms that he found/tested for safety (he IS a forest ranger and botanist after all) that are not only not poisonous but works wonders as aphrodisiacs. Just imagine him testing one out (or letting his s/o try it with consent) before they go at it; pleasure ensues! X3

ooh this is the one turn it up. this is such an amazing concept >:)

kinda turned a bit long. so much dialogue because of a random plot i thought of while trying to do chem hw lol 💀💀

warnings: dom!tighnari and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

69ing (lol), aphrodisiacs, tighnari calls you a 'good girl,' praise, degradation, hair pulling (sub!receiving), dry humping, coming in pants, fingering (sub!receiving), messy

you observed tighnari carefully as he sat in the chair across from you, gingerly holding an ornate looking box.

"so...are you going to tell me what's in there?" you asked, pointing at said box as his lips quirked up slightly.

"it's a finding i have been eager to share with you for quite some time." tighnari explained, setting the box down on the table. "don't worry, i have done very thorough experimentation and research. there also happens to be the element of the 'word of mouth' about these."

you could contain your curiosity no longer, leaning forward as he opened the box. your parted lips sealed shut when you saw what was inside.

there were two mushrooms, a light brown color, of the same, small shape. "mushrooms?" you asked, puzzled. you failed to see the glint in his eyes as you reached towards the box. "i don't really know if i'm following here."

"they're not just any mushrooms, my dear." tighnari picked one up between his fingers, holding it up to the slowly fading sunlight. "they're very popular with the locals seeking a boost in, well, libido, if you will."

your face felt hot as tighnari's expression remained stoic. "l-libido? you're telling me they're sex mushrooms?"

tighnari chuckled at your boldness, shrugging and setting the fungus down. "sure, if that's what you want to call it. they're completely harmless, i have tested them myself."

"really? when?"

"that's...not important." tighnari scratched the back of his neck, elaborating no further. "i will keep the description of effects a secret, but just know it is intensely intoxicating without being overwhelming."

you remained silent, picking up a mushroom for your own eyes to glaze over. you rotated it carefully between your fingers, leaning forward to smell it.

smells like...earth and dirt. as expected, you guessed.

"so how do we do this? just eat the whole thing?"

"well, some people prefer to cut pieces off, or even cook them in some type of food. i've seen others make drinks using herbs and-"

tighnari's eyes widened as he watched you pop the entire thing in your mouth, chewing and swallowing before he could stop you. he rushed towards you, pressing his palms to your cheeks.

"i wouldn't have recommended that large of a dose for the first time!"

"is it going to kill me?!" you panicked, grabbing at his wrists.

"no- no, of course not i just- nobody ever eats the whole thing...how are you feeling? is it hitting you yet? any fever? tingling?"

you sighed, leaning back and rubbing your temples. you watched tighnari lean back, brows furrowed as he picked up the remaining mushroom. "so-"

tighnari did exactly as you did, eating the entire thing as you gasped, quickly standing up and shaking him by his shoulders. "why would you do that?"

"if you did it, we might as well be even with dosage. i refuse to be out-lasted." tighnari flirted so casually sometimes, it knocked the wind out of you.

you stammered, feeling too flustered to reply quickly as you sat back down, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. "how long until we feel it?"

"you'll know." he assured you. there were sounds of fabric rustling as tighnari sat across from you.

it came over you slowly, beginning as a little flame in your belly. easily something to ignore.

it traveled up into your chest, spreading downwards as well until it had your thighs pressing together ever so slightly.

you could feel your heart thumping louder, feel your pulse quicken, your limbs feeling light and tingly in a very...pleasurable way.

your eyes opened, seeing tighnari in a similar state, ears pressed against his head, one hand gripping his knee, the other over his heart.

you stood up so fast, you felt the blood rush to your head, stumbling onto tighnari's lap. you were coherent enough to be aware of your actions, and by the archons did you want tighnari.

he welcomed you in, pulling you against him and smashing your lips together. your eyelids fluttered shut as he held your head against his, licking the seam of your lips as you whined, grinding your hips down on his thigh.

he suddenly tangled his hand into your hair, pulling you away as you mewled, back arching. "be patient, don't be such a desperate little thing. behave."

"tighnari, please, it's so warm. you were right, i think- i think that dosage was crazy powerful. i feel it everywhere." you rambled, holding your head steady as he cooed, petting your hair.

"oh i know, i know. next time don't be in such a rush, hm? now we're in this predicament. ah, what a mess." tighnari chuckled, feeling you trembling on his lap.

"i'm sorry, i'll be more patient next time, i promise, nari. but, please, just...do something!" you begged, feeling his hands slide down to your waist, grinding you against him at a leisurely pace as you gasped, head falling back. "fuck-" you sighed, gripping his shoulders and moving your hips to match his rhythm.

"good girl, such a good girl for me." tighnari mumbled, pressing kisses to your neck. you moved your head further, bearing the skin in a display of submission the fox man seemed to be very pleased by.

he could feel you shake in his hold, clearly turned on by such little stimulation due to the mushroom in your system. he felt the same, barely hanging on by a thread as his dick twitched in its confines.

you moaned when you felt it, pushing your hips down onto his lap, moving them in circles frantically. "close..." you bit your lip, feeling him push and pull faster and faster until you arched your back, barely managing to muffle your moan as you came in his lap. he held you steady, grinding up into you through your first orgasm of the night.

he heard curses spilling from your lips along with 'thank you's and garbles of his name. he pet your hair once more, letting you rest against his chest as you recovered. "that was...embarrassing." you whined, still feeling the heat. "i don't- i mean i never..."

"it's the mushroom, my dear. no need to be embarrassed. in fact, i found that little display rather endearing."

his melodic voice hit you hard, feeling both the heat of shame and from your core as you moved to shed your clothes, peeling your shirts and pants off until you sat on his lap in your undergarments. you pawed at his pants, feeling him twitch under your grasp.

"can i touch you? please?" your eyes gazed up at him so beautifully, he just couldn't say no, opting to remove his pants enough for his cock to spring out.

your eyes shimmered with delight as you reached out, placing a soft kiss to the tip that had his hips bucking. "archons," he held the back of his hand against his lips, watching you seat yourself between his thighs.

you kitty-licked the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum on your tongue gingerly. he watched you carefully, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you kissed down the sides, licking up the veins running along his cock.

"you look so pretty like this..." tighnari sighed. though he couldn't help but feel selfish as he watched you rub your thighs together. "as much as i love it, there's something else i'd like even more, my dear." you stared up quizzically, letting out a squeak as he pulled you up onto his chest.

he spun your body around, making you face his dick and pushing your back down, presenting your clothed pussy to him as you gasped. he pressed his nose against you, inhaling softly as you shivered. "you smell so good..."

"don't say that!" you gasped, feeling him slowly peel your panties off. "it's embarrassing-"

tighnari moved his thumbs to spread your folds, eyeing your hole as he bucked his hips up. "come on, pretty girl, get back to work."

you leaned down, suckling the tip and slowly taking more of him into your mouth, desperately trying to move your hair out of your eyes.

you almost collapsed, however, when he licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling the tip across your clit.

you moaned around tighnari's dick, feeling it twitch against your tongue as tighnari groaned deeply. "oh-"

you pushed yourself further, taking him deeper as he continued to lick up and down your slit, playing with your clit. he moaned into your pussy as he felt your tongue lave over him, causing you to shiver and whine, moving your hips back against his face. you could feel his tongue slowly pushing into your hole, teasing you just to feel you tremble, enjoying your body's way of begging for him.

you removed your mouth from his dick, opting to lick at his heavy balls and the knot at the base of his shaft, pressing wet kisses from your pre-cum covered lips.

tighnari doubled his efforts, circling your clit and coating one of his hands in slick, spreading it across his fingers before moving them around your hole. he collected the remains of your previous orgasm along with it, gently pushing a finger into you as you cried out at the sudden stretch. "tighnari!"

the second you took him back into your mouth, he was bucking his hips, taking the reins and fucking your throat while he pressed his fingers deep into you. the second they hit your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back into your head, throat constricting around him as he came without warning.

he softly sobbed, feeling quickly overstimulated as his fingers jabbed into your g-spot, hurdling you into your second orgasm as you collapsed on him, cum spilling from your mouth onto his torso and the sheets.

you both panted in the otherwise silent room, twitching from your orgasms as you collected yourselves.

you could slowly feel the mushroom's effects wearing off as you sighed, turning towards tighnari. though you were stunned when you saw his cock slowly rising again.

"i probably should have mentioned it before but...this specific aphrodisiac tends to last quite a bit longer in foxes."

"but you said you needed to take it quick to outlast me-!"

"it was all part of the fun, my dear. now, won't you indulge me for just one more round?"

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #tighnari x reader #tighnari #tighnari x you #tighnari smut #genshin tighnari #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚ #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 4

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, fluff, angst. some suggestive language at the end. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.0 k

a/n: RAAAAAA it’s getting real lmao

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Sitting towards the back of the room, you take note of the messy black hair and all black clothes. You walk over to him with a smile on your face. “Megumi?” you question.

The boy looks up from his notes and meets your eyes. “Oh, hey, Yuji’s friend. I didn’t know you were in this class,” he says, gesturing at the seat next to him and inviting you to sit.

“I could say the same to you,” you respond, setting down your backpack and getting settled next to him. You have never been this close to Megumi before, and notice his very subtle cologne that leaves a warm and almost smokey scent hanging in the air around him.

“I’m a biology major, so it kinda makes sense I’d have to be here,” he says, turning back towards his notes. You notice a small smirk forming on one side of his mouth as he does so.

As soon as you open your mouth to reply, your professor waltzes in at the front of the lecture hall, her heels softly clacking against the wood floor and the room falls quiet except for her voice. You and Megumi sit in silence for the rest of the class as you furiously scribble in your notes, trying to keep up with what Dr. Ieiri is lecturing on. Halfway into the class you glance over at Megumi’s notes and see he’s just…doodling? His page is full of drawings, from dogs to birds and frogs, covering the lined paper in front of him. He notices you staring and glances up at you out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the paper. His drawing style suddenly shifts as he sketches a new shape. You watch him, mesmerized, as you realize he’s drawing…you?

Dr. Ieiri seems to end abruptly as she dismisses everyone, but you stay seated, waiting for Megumi to finish up his work. He tears the page out of his notebook and hands it to you without a word before putting everything on his desk into his backpack. You begin to pack up, unsure of what to say. After all, nobody has ever drawn you before - are you supposed to thank him? Should you give it back? In a panic, you stutter, “U-um, I’m going to go study at the library, if you want to come with me?”

Megumi glances up at you and softly responds, “Sure,” before tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

–

The two of you find a quiet table in the back corner of the library, dimly lit from the overhead lights and warm afternoon sun pooling in from a nearby window. You get started on your work quietly until Megumi clears his throat. “So, you never answered why you’re in Dr. Ieiri’s class,” he invites.

“Well, I’m an engineering major, but I’m still not sure what kind I want to be yet, so I have to take all these classes that are supposed to help me figure it out, and biology is one of them,” you explain. Megumi nods in response, before you continue, “I know I like to work with my hands, but I also like to think about problems before I have to solve them, which makes it hard to decide on a path. I know I don’t like computers, but I do love math. And I really didn’t expect to like Dr. Ieiri’s class as much as I do, so now I’m not sure,” you trail off. You pause for a moment, hoping you weren’t rambling. “You said you’re a bio major, right? Why’d you choose that? Also, I didn’t see you in her class last week, but we had definitely already met at Yuji’s, and you weren’t really paying attention today-” you stop yourself, realizing you were definitely rambling this time.

Megumi looks down. “Yeah I’m um…I’m actually retaking this class, so I kind of know it already.” You wait for him to continue. “Last fall my sister got really sick. Well, she got more sick, I guess. I had to take some time off to take care of her, so I ended up failing Dr. Ieiri’s class the first time I took it. I was gone last week because my sister was supposed to have this really big surgery and I wanted to be there for her, but they ended up postponing it, so I just stayed at the hospital with her for the rest of the week. She’s actually the reason I’m a bio major - I want to be a doctor so I can help people like her. It’s not fair what happened, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.” He stops, realizing his hands had formed into fists as he was talking. His body relaxes and he shrugs, trying to ease some of the weight from the information he had just shared with you.

“I think it’s really sweet that you care about your sister so much,” you say. “It sounds like she is really important to you.” Megumi nods, still not looking up from the table. Unsure what else to say, you reach a hand out to touch his shoulder, hoping it provides some comfort. He leans into your touch, resting his cheek on the top of your hand. The feeling of his hair brushing against your arm gives you the ever-familiar butterflies and you try not to visibly blush. The two of you stay like that for a moment, comfortable in the silence, before you hear your phone buzz in your pocket. Megumi lifts his head up so you can use your hand to answer it, and he slowly gets back to work as you pull your phone out and look at it.

Incoming call: “YuYu”

You smile at the nickname he put in your phone for you when he first gave you his number back in highschool. You answer it and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey! Sorry I keep calling you randomly, but I have a bit of an emergency. But, this time it’s a good emergency, I promise. Remember that date I was supposed to have tonight? Turns out she can’t go anymore, but I already have a reservation at this new sushi place I have been dying to try, and I knowwwww you love sushi,” he says, and you can practically hear his smile through the phone. “I already know you’re going to say yes, so I’ll meet you at your place at 6:00 and we can walk over together. Oh, and it’s kind of fancy but not too fancy, but don’t worry about it too much! Okay great, I’ll see you then!” he finishes before hanging up.

You didn’t even get a word in for that entire conversation, but it looks like you now have plans tonight. Glancing at your now unlocked phone screen, you realize it’s already almost 5:00. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m sorry Megumi, but I have to go,” you say, turning your attention back to the boy across from you.

“No worries,” he says with a soft smile. “This was really nice, we should study again sometime. Here, let me give you my number.” He holds his hand out for your phone and you give it to him, watching him put in his contact information before handing it back to you. You collect your study materials and wave at him as you walk out of the library.

–

When you arrive at the restaurant, you are shocked by Yuji’s definition of “kind of fancy.” The place is absolutely gorgeous, with natural wood and stone forming high ceilings, small fountains and mini waterfalls creating a soothing ambiance as the water collects in a river that winds throughout the restaurant. You walk over small bridges that decorate the interior to reach your table, surrounded by plants that provide some natural privacy. You felt slightly out of place despite wearing your nicest dress and heels, especially compared to Yuji in his black slacks and sport coat. You have to admit, though, the boy does clean up nicely.

Without getting a chance to even look at the menu, Yuji orders for both of you when the server returns. You gently smack his arm from across the table. “Hey, why did you do that? How could you assume what I wanted?” you ask playfully.

“I told you, I know you,” he shrugs. “Besides, dinner is on me since I dragged you out here last-minute. There’s some stuff I’ve been wanting to try ever since this place opened, and I got some things you’ll like, too,” he explains through a toothy grin.

“How generous, getting me things I’ll actually like,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of ‘dragging me here,’ what happened with your date?” you ask, trying to hide any remnants of jealousy.

“Oh, she just had something come up with a friend, but we rescheduled for next week. Plus, after the last practice date kind of went to shit, I figured it would be nice to actually get used to this place before the real-deal,” he says nonchalantly.

For some reason, his words sting more than you expect. Referring to this girl as the real-deal means that he must think you’re less than her, less deserving of his time or energy or-

Your thoughts cut off as an enormous pile of food gets set down on your table. There seems to be everything from nigiri to sashimi and tempura, all of it looking mouth-wateringly good. Yuji thanks the server and immediately starts digging in. Your stomach growls involuntarily and you’re forced to push your thoughts aside as you take a bite.

“Oh, my god,” you practically groan through the rice. “This is insane.”

“Right?” Yuji agrees, his cheeks puffed out from being so full of food.

The two of you eat in silence, savoring the combination of flavors in front of you, until Yuji pulls his phone out of his pocket. He smiles down at it and starts typing a message, and you can almost feel your blood boil. In an attempt to defuse your emotions you glance down at your phone, which unlocks to the recent contact page with Megumi’s information open on it. What the hell you think, typing out a message to send to him.

You: “hey Megumi, thanks for hanging out today, it was really nice”

Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Megumi: “If this is who I think it is, I agree. Are you free tomorrow? There’s a new cafe off campus that’s really cozy, and I have some exams next week I need to study for. I’d love to see you”

The message makes you feel warm inside - he would love to see you? Of course you have to say yes.

You: “i’m free, how’s 11:00 sound? meet at your place?”

He ‘love’ reacts your message, which you take as affirmation of your plans. You put your phone back into your purse and look back up to see Yuji still smiling down at his phone. “Hey, it’s rude to be on your phone at the table,” you tease, but it comes out more irritated than you intended.

“Sorry, Nobara just said something funny and-” he cuts off, looking up at you realizing he had never told you the name of the girl he actually had feelings for, even though you already knew from seeing her name on his phone this morning.

“Oh, so is this ‘Nobara’ the one you were supposed to take out tonight?” you ask slyly. Yuji just nods blankly, trying to read your facial expressions. “Well, she must be quite special then,” you respond, desperately attempting to shove down any lingering jealousy as you maintain eye contact. “I actually have a date tomorrow, too,” you continue, not looking away from him. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue and taking another huge bite from the dwindling pile of food between you. “Speaking of which, I actually was hoping to get some practice too…” you trail off. “I want to suck your cock.”

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#q writes #practice makes perfect #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji x you #yuuji x reader #yuuji x y/n #yuuji itadori x you #yuuji itadori x y/n #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x you #yuji x y/n #yuji itadori x you #itadori x you #itadori x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader

[starryjuicebox]

Sucrose

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning: 18+, Explicit. Cunnilingus. PiV. Creampie.

Summary: Astarion has several surprises for you on this Valentine's Day.

The soft grass is a soothing balm for your tired feet as you stroll across the flower garden. Curling your fingers around your lover’s arm, you lean your head against his shoulder and close your eyes briefly. The little meadow he built just for you far away from the hustle and bustle of Baldur’s Gate is always a welcome respite. 

Astarion guides you to a white oak bench with lush green ivy snaking around the elegant silver armrests. He sits down and pulls you into his lap. Snuggling into his chest instinctively, you gaze up at him. 

“Your feet seemed like they could use a rest,” he answers your unasked question. 

“Thank you!” You beamed at him. It was quite nice to be able to rest after a long day of walking and tending to the plants. While Astarion had always told you that someone else could “do all the dirty work”, there was something about growing the greenery yourself that made it special. It did involve a lot of physical labor though, and so you are grateful to be able to relax for the rest of the night.  

Life with him was quite easy, after all. While the mansion was being refurbished, you two had gone on all sorts of travels, from the Moonshae Isles to Cormyr, enjoying all the pleasures the Sword Coast had to offer. 

But even traveling could get tiring after a while, and so you were overjoyed when Astarion told you he had purchased a plot of land distant from any large city. That was when you had decided to start your ever-growing garden. 

Your first endeavor was planting berry bushes to help feed some of the local wildlife. It was a delight to see deer, birds, and other adorable woodland animals stop by every morning. Astarion had made commentary about feeding the wildlife to the Spawn servants, but never lifted a finger to stop you from growing the shrubs or to shoo the creatures away. 

He chuckles a little, before pressing his lips to your forehead and snapping you out of your reverie. “So, little love, today is Valentine’s Day. A day for lovers to celebrate their unions. And we have quite a lot to celebrate, don’t we?” 

Of course, your calendar had long since been marked, and you already had something special prepared. Reaching into your pockets, you giggle and take out a handful of heart-shaped dark chocolates. While not your own preferred treat, you were not blind to Astarion’s indulgences when he thought nobody was watching. Pressing one up to his lips, you grin and say,“Open wide~” 

Astarion obliges you, surprise clear on his features, and he closes his mouth around the chocolate…as well as your finger. A smirk dances across his face as he finishes the candy with a sensual lick.  

“I see you were ready, darling.” Astarion holds up a peach—your favorite fruit—and then pulls out a dagger. You blink just once, and the once-whole peach is now five evenly cut pieces. 

He teases your lips with one slice, a small smirk decorating his features. “Now, it’s my turn to treat you.” 

You laugh and bite down into the fruit, sweet juices dripping down your chin. 

“Tut, tut, such a messy girl,” he chides gently, dipping his head to lick the nectar from your face. 

“That tickles!” You tell him with a giggle, pushing him playfully. 

The only response you receive is a dark chuckle as he continues to feed you the peach. 

After you finish feeding each other, he leans back with a content hum. “I have another surprise for you. After all, you have been very good to me, my love.” 

Excitement courses through you as you smile. “You’ve been very good to me, too.”

Sweeping his arms beneath you in a princess carry, Astarion stands up and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. He brings you deeper into the woods, where you had not ventured before. Your breath hitches in trepidation. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, but receive no reply as he simply continues onward. 

Your question is quickly answered when he stops beneath a cluster of giant Sequoia trees and points upwards. “A gift for you.” 

Lifting your gaze, your jaw drops. Nested in the treetops is an enormous log cabin, built into the forest itself. An elegant terrace wrapped in ivy overlooks the rest of the forest and far beyond. The house is so far up that it would be impossible to reach for an ordinary person. 

“A special sanctuary, just for the two of us,” he whispers into your ear as he sets you back down onto your feet. With a spin and flourish, the Vampire Ascendant becomes a tiny black bat. 

You will your own form to shift and change into a crow, flying after him towards the beautiful cabin. 

Landing on the terrace and transforming back, a gasp leaves you as you see the home is already decorated. Different types of Aeonium, Echeveria, and Graptopetalum hybrids sit in little colorful clay pots beneath large bay windows. Coupled with french doors leading from the balcony into the interior, the house is set up to allow for plenty of sunlight as well.

Astarion opens the doors for you with a bow, seeming very pleased with himself. 

The inside was a blend of copper and soft pink hues. It had clearly been expertly staged with your taste in mind. Rose quartz countertops play host to tiny pewter statuettes of cats and crows. Daggerroot, autumncrocus, belladonna and other alchemical ingredients decorate herb hangers dangling from the ceiling.

It’s perfect; everything you had imagined a little home away from home would look like. Astarion let you have some say in the decor of the renovated palace, but this space was clearly entirely engineered with you in mind. 

“Thank you, Astarion,” you say softly, stepping forward to give him a hug.

He immediately stiffens under your touch. No matter how often you embrace him, it seems, he still hasn’t gotten used to your affection being given so freely. After a second, his warm arms wrap around you, and you can hear his heartbeat—a soothing, steady rhythm.

“Of course, my treasure. Anything for you,” he replies quietly, before smirking once more. “You haven’t even seen the best part yet.” 

Taking your hand, he leads you to the bedroom, which is decorated in a similar fashion to the common area. Dense ivy hugs the walls, and small mushroom-shaped lamps give off a soft, warm glow. Beside them is a crystal vase filled with red roses. Your heart swells at the sight. 

A massive bed takes up an unreasonable amount of space, covered in a downy duvet. Ethically harvested, he assures you. 

“Now, for the final treat of the night…” 

Astarion moves towards you like a predator stalking prey. Though your heart no longer beats, you feel the rush of excitement as your lover walks you to the edge of the bed, until the back of your knees hits the frame. He continues to lean forward, causing you to fall onto your back atop the plush mattress. 

Lean arms cage your body as Astarion tilts his face to yours and captures your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue swipes your lower lip, and darts in as you part them. 

As you spread  your legs for him instinctively, he rubs your lower halves together. “Eager, are we?” he drawls, grinding against your heated core. 

Your clothing suddenly feels restrictive and itchy on your feverish skin. As if on cue, Astarion swipes a claw downwards, rending your thin sundress in two. You pout at him, because you really liked that dress, but he kisses your stomach in apology. As his lips trail downwards, your ire is lost when his tongue flattens against your slick folds, sending a shock of pleasure through you.  

He continues his ministrations fucking your entrance with his tongue lazily, before swirling around your clit and then sucking hard. The sudden shift in intensity elicits a moan from you as he continues to feast on your cunt. 

Just when you feel yourself beginning to reach the peak, he pulls away, your juices glistening on his chin. You whine at the loss, although the sound quickly turns into a sigh as he buries himself to the hilt within you in one smooth thrust, without warning.  

“You take me so well, don’t you? Good girl,” he murmurs, rolling your stiff nipples in between his warm fingers. Astarion has set a slow, steady rhythm to start; every languid roll of his hips brings another small jolt to your system. 

It isn’t fair that he seems so composed while you are coming undone beneath him. Pursing your lips, you use your body weight to roll yourself forward, flipping your positions so that you are now riding him. 

Astarion doesn’t seem to protest this, just letting out a throaty chuckle as the new position sinks him even deeper into you, forcing out another sound of ecstasy from your lips. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, signaling his own pleasure. 

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, increasing the pace to a desperate frenzy, and from the sound of his own sighs, Astarion isn’t too far off himself. 

“That’s it, my treasure. Come for me.” 

Clenching around him, you shatter at his words. Grabbing your wrist and sinking his fangs into it, he follows and you feel a wave of thick cum spilling into you. 

Happy and sated, you beam down at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.” 

As he pulls out, he scoops out the cum that dribbles out of your puffy slit and shoves it back in with his fingers. “We can’t have anything go to waste, can we now?” 

You nod sleepily, as he wipes you clean with a soft cloth. As you snuggle up to his warm embrace, he pulls the cover over your bodies.    

The next morning, you are awoken by the fresh scent of apples. A brand new sunrise in the eternity you will share together. 

#astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fluff #astarion smut #ascended astarion x tav #ascended!astarion #ascended astarion #ascended astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin

[redcoralpot]

Can you do Daryl finding out reader is trans? Early season 4, perhaps? :3

Attentu - Daryl Dixon x FTM Reader

Your wish is my command!!

Warnings: Gore, murder, violence, blood, cussing, mentions of transphobia and death, and addictions.

Word Count: 2.6K

You eagerly join in on the medical supply run, despite the group's awful luck. A confession from Bob has you feeling quite guilty about a personal matter...

-

It was dead.

You threw the car battery to the side, sick of the luck your supply group had. Daryl was on the other side of the room, shuffling through drawers in an attempt to obtain the right part. For an auto repair shop, it was horribly disorganized.

“Got anything?” you called over, impatient.

A grin took over your face as he tossed the find at you, catching it in a firm grip, “Nah.”

The car was not in terrible shape, not really. Some rust here and there, with paint scratched off from long road adventures before the outbreak. Your father had a similar car when you were just a child, and he was insistent that he passed on his knowledge, despite your mother’s constant objections. It was not fit for someone like you; that your hands should never be calloused from the tough ground nor covered in grease, she said. He always ended up laughing in her face.

So as he would have it, the two of you got in all sorts of trouble. Hijacking cars, picking locks, prying cabinets open with a pocket knife; all things he said would come in handy one day. Daryl seemed like he had the same type of upbringing, all rough and tumble, and perhaps that’s what drew you to him. That, or he was just really damn good with surviving.

Daryl’s footsteps creaked as he led the way out of the building, shining his flashlight on any possible threats around. Someone had to, as you weren’t keen to look after Bob found an old walker stuck under a desk, ending that misery. It was the only one left. One by one, you circled out of the building, with Bob’s silent trepidation behind you as you arrived back at the car. Daryl opened its hood again, and you both set to work.

His voice was muffled around his cigarette, “You never told us about the group you were with, before.”

You glanced up as Bob replied, “Which one?”

“You know,” he continued, when Daryl gave him a look, “when you found me out on that road, I almost kept walking.”

“Why’s that?’

“I was done being a witness. It happened two times, two different groups.”

…

“I was the last one standing, like God intended for me to see it over and over; a curse,” he shook his head, pursing his lips, “but, when it’s just you out there with the quiet, I used to drink a bottle of just 'bout anything just so I could sleep at night.”

“The run to the big spot, I only did it for me.”

You froze, a jug of clear liquid still in your hands. Daryl took it from you, completely unfazed, and managed to get a swig out of it.

He licked his lips, “You gotta keep busy somehow.”

“No, I did it so I could get me a bottle, a bottle of anything. That’s what got Zack killed.”

“That’s bullshit,” Daryl peered at him, “why don’t you get in there and try the engine? Should be the red and green wires, it ain’t rocket science.”

Even as Bob walked away, you stayed silent. Your fingers burned as you rigged the working car battery back in, but never as much as your thoughts. The other man nudged you, urging you to take your hands off as the engine roared in front of you. He clapped his hands and brought them up to his mouth; a sharp whistle rang through the air. Bob’s alcohol troubles seemed to be forgotten by Daryl, since he gave you a rusty smile while you slammed down the hood.

“Nobody coulda’ known, and you ain’t gonna be standing alone. Not anymore,” he reassured Bob.

You huffed, swinging a few plastic bags of gas in the back seats, ducking to join them. Tyreese and Michonne got the rest and the three of you squeezed together with the luggage, closing the door. With that, you left the burdensome place behind.

The ride to the college was short, but Bob still parked a little ways out, and the group set off to walk the rest of the distance. You passed most of the buildings on campus; dull brick that plants jumped at the opportunity to outgrow after a year of inactivity.

“Looks like the building we want is up ahead,” Tyreese stated.

For the first time since Bob’s confession, you spoke, “Are we splitting up? We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“Is that safe?” Michonne questioned, and Daryl eyed you.

“I know I can cover myself, if I end up alone.”

The brunette scoffed, and you shifted a glare at him, “You know I can, too. You’ve seen me.”

“I think,” Bob uttered, “it’s a good idea.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, I’ll shoot if I run into any trouble. Meet me back at the car.”

Outside of the Learning Resource Center, you split from the group, sneaking close to the ground. You heard the rest shuffle in the opposite direction with a soft “C’mon, c’mon.”, and let out a shaky breath. Two pairs, then three pairs of footsteps faded away.

The lights of the wing flickered and let out fading sparks as you padded along, dust pillowing up from wherever you stepped. God, the outbreak sure did a number on this place. Shadows grew as abundantly as the plants, but never dulled the smears of blood along the walls, floor, and shattered glass. It cracked and snapped under you, somewhere behind you, and you hissed as you looked at the walls alongside you. There were several doorways leading to different rooms, most likely supply closets or classrooms. Carefully, you dipped yourself into the nearest doorway, a heavy feeling on your back. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest and your stomach had a sick pit of anxiety as you thumbed through the biggest drawers. There were plenty of jars, containers, and vials, but none of them had what you needed. You read all the labels once, twice, the text in messy handwriting or tiny fonts.

Testosterone, in its liquid form made for injections, should be a clear liquid. You knew that much from what your provider told you, and from your own studies. Any colored liquids, or any with particles floating inside, you discarded from your search immediately. You were taking too long, you started to think, or were you? You didn’t know if you were gone for ten or if you have been here for thirty.

Once again, you slid back into the trashed hallway, trying to make your way towards the next doorway. The only things you could hear were your quick breaths and a creak, most likely from the forgotten building. A set pattern was in your mind as you dove into the room, and the haze of adrenaline made it hard to think. Walkers, as the prison liked to call them, were not your biggest concern. Even before the outbreak, it was dangerous for you to step outside; to live your life. If you passed by the wrong person, your face would be on the hot topic of the community for the week after. Getting caught was not an option.

You blinked, trying to clear the thumping in your ears. The vial’s label looked like a foreign language, though you knew it wasn’t, so you peered closer at it. A gust of hot air hit your neck, and again. Hot air. This place was cold.

Your fingers scrambled for the knife at your side, it was there, wasn’t it? You slashed before you could think. Hair scratched your fingers; your knife dug into a warm crevice. The hot air turned into a raw, groaning noise. The hot air stopped. 

You pushed the body to the ground and your blade was released. The blood trickled hot down your wrist. Instead of the red you expected, it was a sludgy, filthy brown. It dripped in slow droplets on the floor beside your shoes. This was the first opportunity to look at the thing, and what a sight it was.

The knife had caved in a part of its skull, which itself was like a rotten, stomped on pumpkin. It oozed and dripped the same muck over the tile, muddying the disfigured face underneath. It made Osbourne’s stage trick look like simple child’s play to anyone who witnessed the act. Its eyes were still open; bulging out in that manic, hungry way only a madman got before the outbreak. You looked away from the mess, your breakfast seizing in your throat, and you busied yourself with getting more testosterone vials in your bag. The most important thing was that it was not human, not anymore.

Stuffing your full hand in your bag, you made a beeline for the doorway.

You should have learned your lesson.

A weight tumbled over you and knocked you to the floor, breathless. It screeched, rabid, like some sort of fucked up dog. If a dog hadn’t eaten for a month, that is. It stunk, too. It stunk so bad that you thought you might die from suffocation first.

It clawed at you, gnashing its yellow teeth. Your hands were pinned underneath the mass and you heard your knife land across the floor with a clang. This was going to be it. The end. It’s funny, isn’t it? Dying searching for your lifeline. You almost giggled at the irony.

The teeth were close to your neck, aiming to kill. To eat until you were nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and bones. You had to do something, and soon. The only part of your body you could move were your legs, and you tensed them up. You were going to survive this, you were going to get back to that car. 

Three.

You struggled to prop your shoulder up, knocking the danger away from your neck. Its eyes were bloodshot and cloudy. As empty as a corpse.

Two.

The walker got more desperate to bite you, wiggling around harshly on top of you. You tried your best to keep your face far away from its own, but it successfully nipped the edge of your nose. This was going to hurt.

One.

Its final noise was a gurgling one, close to your ear. The weight flopped to your right side, stilling its frugal attempt to destroy you.

“You got yourself covered, huh,” a voice remarked.

You wheezed, “Christ.”

“What were you doin’?”

“Shit.”

Daryl stepped over you, pulling his arrow out of the corpse, “I’m serious.”

You finally got your legs under you, and the first thing you did was back a good distance away from him. There was no getting out of this, you both knew that Daryl would know if you lied to him. Yet, he was one of the last people in the prison you felt comfortable telling. Daryl was a classic redneck, with a bigot older brother and a taste for mysteriousness. There was so much you didn’t know about him, and the hair on the back of your neck stood up like a wildfire. You would have much rather told Carol or even Michonne, if you had to choose. 

“You know what Bob said.”

“Yeah,” he stated, “but you ain’t an alcoholic. I know that much.”

“I’m not, but that wasn’t the point. I only came on this run for one thing, and it isn’t medicine. It’s testosterone.”

“Why do you need that? You’re strong enough without that steroid shit.”

“I don’t get as much as you do naturally.”

“So a medical condition?”

“Kind of.”

“Even if it was, that don’t explain why you had to sneak away from the group to get it. What’re you hiding?”

“I’m transgender, Daryl. I wasn’t born a boy like you,” you murmured.

There was a parade of footsteps down the hallway, and Tyreese burst through the door, the others close behind. He looked spooked, with sweat dripping down his disheveled face. Michonne and, speaking of the devil, Bob looked no better off.

He exclaimed, “Jesus, there you two are. We gotta go, now.”

“What, why?”

“Walkers. Tons of ‘em. Let’s go!”

You gladly took this chance, shoving past Daryl to dart out into the hallway with the others. Everyone else was rushing, but it was a minute before you also heard footsteps behind you. The infected corpses swarmed the building, even though it wasn’t like that before, and it made you wonder what the hell released them. Your group ran up the stairs with walkers not too far behind, and those trapped banged on whatever surface they could reach. 

“There was a ledge near the fire escape,” Michonne hissed, “we can go through there.”

No one responded unless a quick nod could be considered one, and you were off. Michonne went first, then Tyreese, you, and finally Daryl. Your legs were shaking, and you paid Bob a glance. He tensed up, seemingly trying to gauge the distance, before jumping. He was barely right, and landed a little too close to the edge, teetering off. His arms flailed and an army of bodies from below swarmed up to grab his heavy bag. You rushed to catch him, attempting to pull the man up, but he refused to let his backpack go. 

Finally, you ripped both the man and his bag away from the grasp of the walkers, panting, “What the fuck were you doing? What’s in that bag that could possibly be so important?”

“He’s right.” Daryl took the bag from Bob, zipping it open.

Bob rushed to stop him, but it was too late. Daryl dropped the backpack as quick as he picked it up, and he seized Bob by the collar.

“If I ever catch you puttin’ a bottle before a need, I’ll feed you to the walkers myself. You hear me?”

You froze as Daryl let the shorter man down, pushing him as he did so. Everyone else shot him a disappointed look or a glare, and Michonne waved her hand. You were all to keep moving; the run was over, and on an especially sour note.

The group arrived back to the prison safe and sound, the most daring of injuries being bruises, or small cuts. Tyreese and Michonne left to do their own activities, while Bob left to lick his wounds. This retired Daryl and yourself alone, to an awkward silence. With nothing else to do, you picked at a particularly nasty cut on your forearm. It was starting to look infected.

You cleared your throat, “Do you have anything left in your bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I use some?”

“Nah.” Daryl tossed you his bag.

Carefully, you peeked inside. There wasn’t much left, some disinfectant spray and vials of a clear liquid. No, that couldn’t be, could it?

Testosterone. At least three good vials of it.

You raised them up to your face, not believing your eyes, “Daryl, where the hell did you get these?”

“Grabbed them from that drawer you found the others in,” he refused to make eye contact, “after you left.”

“Why?”

“You might’ve needed more than you got.”

That… meant a lot to you. You had expected him to at the very least ignore you, or even worse, disgusted by you. What were the chances he would grab extras for you, just in case? Instead of yelling or hitting or kicking you out of his life, Daryl did that. If you were being honest, this was one of the weirdest coming out stories to date, but nothing can really beat zombies being included.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Nah. I’m a little confused, though.”

“On the topic?”

Daryl sighed, “Yeah. Wasn’t educated that much.”

“Well, if you want, I could help with that.”

Just for a second, he looked you in the eyes. In that moment, you didn’t see hate, anger, or anything negative. Only a sharp, beautiful glimpse of curiosity.

“Yeah.”

-

#x male reader #male reader #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #gay #lgbtq #transgender #male y/n #michonne #tyreese #bob twd #coming out #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x male reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #trans ftm #ftm reader #trans male reader

[sodamnradd]

“Is this some new wave of Muggle-born activism?” Draco snorted, taking in every detail of Granger’s body, from the scar on her chest, to the little mole beneath her left nipple.

She shot him a puzzled look.

He looked around the Gryffindor table, wondering why nobody else seemed rattled. It was one thing to be their shining star, but for everyone to act casually while she was starkers seemed raving mad even for them. “Why are you naked?”

Her cheeks pinked. “What?”

“You. Are. Naked.”

“Is this meant to be a joke?” She pulled something invisible over her chest, as if covering herself with a jumper.

Beside her, Weasley grew taller. “What are you on about, Malfoy?”

Draco felt the first flicker of doubt. Were they fucking with him? “There’s a scar here.” He mimed the shape over his own chest. “And you have a mole right here.”

Weasley leaped from his seat, slamming his hands on the table with a loud bang. “Did you do something to her?”

Granger clutched his arm, restraining him. “Wait, Ron.” She was eyeing Draco suspiciously. “Let me handle this.” She hopped over the bench, nodding her head. “Follow me.”

Something lurched in his chest seeing the rest of her body. The dip of her spine, the swell of her thighs—far too biteable for his liking.

As he followed her out of the room, he tried envisioning every one of their professors naked, hoping his hard-on would deflate. The only thing more mortifying than being naked in front of the entire school, was being caught with a raging erection for a witch he had no right finding attractive.

“I’m not naked,” she said when they were outside, hidden behind a suit of armor.

“Should I list off other key details?” His eyes followed the lines of her limbs, looking for scars, freckles, anything he could pinpoint to convince her.

“Give me your cloak, then.” She reached out her hand.

“To drape over your naked body?” He scowled, though he almost wished he was wearing his Quidditch shirt. Granger in nothing but green with his name on the back…

“I’m in uniform, you git!” she cried.

He unbuttoned his cloak and gave it to her.

She draped it over her shoulders. “Better?”

Except, now the cloak was gone too. Simply vanished. “What did you do with it?”

“With what?”

“My cloak! That was expensive, you know.”

She looked concerned. “Malfoy, I’m sweating in this thing. And it smells like…” She sniffed and frowned. “Apple cider vinegar?”

His cheeks grew hot. “I had a stomach-ache. Apple cider vinegar is good for gut health.”

She rolled her eyes. A bead of sweat dripped down her neck to her collar.

Maybe she wasn’t lying about his cloak. But how?

“Have you been alright lately?” She looked him up and down, pausing at his crotch, the corners of her mouth lifting.

“Stop that.” He covered himself with his hands.

He could hear every frantic beat of his heart. The light behind Granger’s bushy head became too-bright. The room was spinning.

“Malfoy!” He watched her eyes go wide, her arms stretch out, reaching for him. “Somebody help!”

When Draco opened his eyes, he was in the hospital wing and Pomfrey was filling a glass on his nightstand.

She tutted when he tried sitting up. “Slowly. Don’t exert yourself.”

“What happened?” he demanded, looking around the empty ward, his chest squeezing with something like concern. “Where’s Granger?”

“She’s fine,” she assured him. “Coming to terms with your diagnosis.” When Draco didn’t reply, she went on. “Old pure-blood lineages often have special magical abilities that are triggered by trauma. Ms. Granger mentioned a stomach ailment? You’re also experiencing cold sweats and hallucinations. All the signs are there. But luckily, with enough exposure to one another, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy.” Pomfrey smiled meekly, something like pity in her eyes. “You’ve found your soulmate.”

(660 words, prompt from twitter: why are you naked?)

#dramione #dramione drabble #drabble #dhr #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dramione ficlet #dramione fanfic #sodamnrad #draco malfoy x hermione granger #sodamnraddrabbles

[reminiscentreader]

I Bet You Think About Me

“I miss your tanned skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right”

-Back to December, Taylor swift

This chapter is from Graysons pov, so don’t get confused.

                       ._._._._._._._._._._._._

Grayson stared at the big gold eyes that were scanning his face, Cordelia seemed terrified although he that was not at all the case, or at least he hoped. After the whole ordeal with Eve he had been thinking about getting in contact with her again, possibly to apologise for breaking her heart, or to come up with a shitty excuse as to why he had to, when Avery told him she had invited them to a gala a flicker of hope had lit inside him, this was a chance, and he had promised himself he would never pass over a chance again, but now that she was actually here he was lost for words. He cleared his throat again.

                        ._._._._._._._._._._._._._

“I was hoping to get a word with dai- Ms Ambrose, if that’s ok with her” Grayson stared down at Cordelia as if he could will her to say yes, “that’s um- fine” Della whispered and then they stared at eachother for a good thirty seconds, Graysons eyes flit down to take a peak at Cordelia’s red lips, admiring the shape and softness of them before he forced them to look at Libby, “alone” libby nodded and quickly walked off towards Nash.

                       ._._._._._._._._._._

“It’s been a while” Grayson whispered making sure to keep his voice low to assure nobody in the room could eavesdrop, “it has,three years I think?” Cordelia curtly replied, Grayson let out a shaky breath “are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” he sighed “I’m so sorry Della” he looked up at her, “for what?” 

“You know what. I’ve come to apologise for every-“

“Grayson” it was Avery, the girl who had become like a sister to him, a girl he used to be in love with. “What is it Avery?” Grayson replied looking away from Cordelia “we were going to go out for dinner tonight, with the Ambrose’s of course.” She nodded towards Cordelia “we were all about to get ready”

“R-right of course, I hope we will be able to talk later ms Ambrose.”

                      ._._._._._._._._._._._._

That night Grayson drafted a letter to his little daisy, to say what his mouth couldn’t.

Dearest Cordelia,

As our conversation earlier was cut short, i will write everything I want you to know in this letter.

I have missed you immensely, I will not make excuses for my mistakes they were mistakes that hurt both you and me and I will not except you to forgive me. But I want a fresh start, you and me, I have known you my whole life and it shattered me to lose you because I was too blind to see what was in front of me, I hope you can forgive me.

Yours, Grayson 

                       ._,_._._._._._._._._._.

The next chapter I have had planned out for ages, ik this one was a little boring but I promise the next one will be better

#nash hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #xander hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit

[crabonfire]

I love you more than I love tom jones

character: scout

warning: none!

Note: this is a confession!!! how he'd react to a confession from you and how he'd confess. I'm gonna do all the other mercenaries, but for now I'm doing them one by one! So look out for the next ones :)

readers confession is short, because it can be whatever you want it to be. So I only made it how he'd react to one, not a specific one. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! xx ♡

♡Scout♡

When he confesses...

• he's a nervous wreck, he makes plans to tell you how he feels, heck the whole team is in on it!

• though, as always, disaster strikes and everything fails.

• after a day of failed attempts, he gives up even when the others tell him to keep going, and goes to hang out on the roof to look at the stars.

• you and him are practically best friends, and you had noticed hes felt down recently. so, with two cans of bonk in your hands, you make your way up to the roof to talk to him.

"Hey man, you good?".

"HAH-OH-fuck ya scared the shit outta me Y/N. Hey, yeah no I'm good. Definitely."

As you sit next to him you hand him a can and he graciously accepts, yet its obvious by his weary smile he's not well.

"Cmon Jer, I can tell your lying. What happened?"

"..."

Silence falls between you two, the crickets deafening to your ears.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he spoke.

"...there's this person I like. And...I've been meanin' to tell em...ya know...I like em. But, everythin' keeps on going wrong," He pauses,

"I just wanna tell em, but they're so clueless about it. It...its hard. Listen, I'm not shy or anythin' but damn! It's difficult."

You listen intently, as he pours his emotions out to you.

"I don't know if I should keep goin' cause...what if they don't like me back like that?"

• He finishes, taking a sip of his can as he stares off into the starry sky. You frown at his uncharacteristic self, he was usually never one to give up so this person must be really special to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, making him pull all his attention towards you.

"Jeremy, listen to me very carefully. You are such an amazing person, your funny, you care about others even if they don't give you the time of day, your strong, talented, and honestly? Really fucking cute. If that person can't see how much you care about them? Then fuck them, why? Cause there are tons of people out there who love you Jer."

His face is tinted with a soft pink, as he chuckles. "You really think so?"

"I know so Jeremy. I doubt that they don't like you back though, nobody can resist your charm." You tease, making you both laugh.

"Yeah, yeah I guess your right."

• You are met with silence once again, with you now closer to his body. Your arms press against each other, as he goes back to staring into nothingness.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Yeah Scout?"

He looks to you, and you both lock eyes. The way he's staring into you right now makes you feel nervous yet you can't seem to pull away from him.

"I...love you."

His voice, calm and gentle. His expression once sad was now confident, and radiant of positivity. Your body flinched at those words, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You are left speechless, you were the one he liked? The clueless person who had left him head over heels?

The realisation hits you like a bus, as your mouth opens to an O shape.

"...Y/N?"

"OH FUCK IM THE CLUELESS ONE?!"

"PFFT-BAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA-"

• as he laughs, you freak out internally. He likes you too??? And...and he's been giving out signs and your DUMBASS HASNT REALISED?? FOR FUCKS SAKE Y/N

• you bury your face in your hands as he goes on, finally stopping to hear a reply.

"So uh...do ya like me too?"

"Fuck...yea...I um. I love you too Jeremy."

His smile widened and became a cheeky grin. He was absolutely brimming with excitement you could practically feel it! He was bright, brighter than the shining sun, god was he so happy.

"Really? You...your not saying that just because right? Right?"

"No Scout, I really do love you too."

"Holy...oh my god? Holy fuck...wait no way..ya like me too?"

"Yes scout."

"Like...like like? Love? All that romantic stuff?"

"Yeah man, I love you."

"Fuck say that again?"

"Pfft...I love you scout."

He jumps and stands tall on the roof, puffing out his chest, "THEY LOVE ME, HEAR THAT SHIT? YEAH, THEY LOVE ME." You burst out laughing at his sudden proclamation. Though he quickly sits back down, clears his throat as if nothing happens and stares at you happily.

"I uh...can I hug you?" He asks, as he twiddles his fingers together.

"Yeah."

He leans in to wrap his arms around you, engulfing your soft scent as his smile widens even more. He's ecstatic he really is, and you don't doubt it.

You two will spend time with each other just being in each others presence for a bit at the rooftop, until he decidedly gets "tired" and goes back to his room just so he can brag about it to everybody else.

They're happy for him, I mean they knew about your crush for him so it would always end up this way, but happy nonetheless. Plus his shouting about "they love me" and whatnot was heard all over Teufort, waking up some of the other teams members.

He will not sleep that night, shuffling in his bed and giggling like a school girl thinking replaying those words in his mind. "I love you, Jeremy."

Will definitely ask you out the next day, no hesitation needed now that he knows you feel the same.

When you confess...

• WHATDIDYOUSAYYYYYYY????

• you...you love him?

• "I er....wow. I didn't know ya felt that way. Fuck, uh..."

• he's...so happy? But incredibly shocked! He never knew you felt the same way he did for you. Without a word, he pulls you into a tight hug, not letting go as if he did his whole world would collapse.

• "shit...I love you too Y/N. fuck that's good to get of my chest."

• you both stay like that for a bit, until he let's go. With a confident expression, he asks

"SO...how about I take ya out to dinner? You, me, fancy restaurant? How does that sound toots?"

His voice cracks slightly, making you giggle.

"I'd love that."

Your soft eyes make his heart tremble, a lovesick smile plastered onto his face. "GREAT! Pick you up at 8 tomorrow...yeah!"

He runs off to brag to his teammates, who is glad he's so happy but you confessing to him gave him a bigger ego boost it needed to.

• when he confesses to you, he feels less nervous. When YOU confess to him? He's so happy it's like he discovered the cure for cancer. The difference is intense.

#scout #tf2 #scout tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 headcannons #tf2 x reader #scout my beloved #i love men so much #they are so cute #ugh #i wanna kiss him #ughhhhhhh #men named jeremy? HMU. #scout from the hit game tf2 #id let him do me tbh

[svmhvin]

TO BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS. AN EVENT SELF-PARA.

SHE LIKES THE ATTENTION WHEN HER DRESS SLIDES A BIT TOO FAR UP HER LEG. the fraught glances from people dizzy-headed in red wine supernovas. a girl exists under the weight of a collapsing galaxy trying to claw her way into existence. a siren will lean their body into shapes not understood by men because above all they are entranced by mystery. heart is a bit too self-aware to shake the patriarchal foundations of wanting and being wanted. so complicit in her own objectification that when the lacy black gusset of her panties flashes into candlelight she will pull her leg back farther to prove to herself that to be alive is to be desirable. there is a glass of whiskey in her hand untouched that she stares at with a preacher's penitence. sobriety has lingered around the edges of her vision for a few days. clarity does not suit a woman who lives entrenched in the haze breathing smoke out of her nostrils like a sleeping dragon afraid to be woken. all charm is lost on her, charisma bloody somewhere at the bottom of a ditch. she watches zekai talk to a dark-haired woman in little more than a leather jacket and jeans and the grip on her glass goes white-knuckled and splitting.

"i wasn't aware you'd be attending this evening." she visibly winces at the sound of her father's voice. francis zhong is tall, lean, classically handsome like an action movie star or a president. his new wife is somewhere sipping champers and mingling with his cohorts. heart though, is used to being regarded as little more than the gum on the bottom of his shoe. a film of rot and mold over something he cannot dispatch himself from no matter how hard he tries. she knows the truth of him that his love was never free and never even truly available to her. after all bastard children are never afforded the same rights as their trueborn siblings. she wonders if her half-brother is here too completely unaware of her father's evidentiary dalliances right under the nose of that whole family.

"it was sort of a last minute thing." her tone is clipped and curt, physical pain lances through her body at the thought of speaking to him for any longer. she can't meet his gaze tracing the filigreed gold lines on the wall behind him.

"i see." he says face impassive and disdainful. "and you felt it appropriate to come this event as what? a compatriot of the arts?" his words are vague but his meaning is clear. this is not your place, you do not belong here. please swiftly return to the gutter from whence you came and do not trouble us with the filth of your existence. she feels sick to her stomach. where is zek, or carmen, or opal, or any tangential connection she has to rest of the world to pull her out of the toxic wasteland that her father inhabits? but nobody is to be found to her eyes and the noose of insecurity wraps tigher around her neck.

"i came-" she spits tears beginning to prick the corner of her eyes. she hates how small he makes her feel, how every piece of confidence and bravado she touts crumbles down in an instant with one vicious word from his mouth. she is a child in her yearning for a father who incapable of loving her. "-because i was invited and because believe it or not my life does not entirely revolve around you and your stupid fucking appearance schedule." the reply feels too weak-hearted to be earnest. a girl playing at something meaner and more decisive than she could ever be right now. he chuckles darkly and takes her elbow in his palm so tight it burns.

"you listen to me little girl." they are cast in shadow under the city's death and she tastes iron in her mouth, tongue caught between the sharp rows of teeth. "you are mine. your life revolves around me. you eat what i say, sleep when i tell you to, and say exactly whatever i tell you should come out of your foul little mouth." his breath is hot and balmy against her ear and her legs shake steadily against the wall. "you can show off the false confidence all you want but don't forget your place." black mascara tears are marring her lovely face now a barely contained sob choked back into her throat. "at any second you and your mother could both be gone. i keep you both alive because it amuses me. you have never been your own person." half-bitten lips tremble water against rough rocks and bile begins to rise in her throat. her father releases her elbow a red imprint left clearly where his fingers had been. he looks her up and down disgust clear in his vision. "i know you sell yourself-" he pauses. "but christ heart do you have to be so easy?" a fist presses itself to her mouth before she can understand what she's doing. trying to keep the contents of her stomach from upturning on the floor. "don't think i didn't see you with that gör boy." he continues. "after i specifically remembering telling you years ago you were not to involve yourself with that family. you will end things with him or you'll both pay the cost, just like you did the last time you saw him." he sighs deeply, like he's been disappointed by something, like he expected better of her. "have a good night sweetheart. don't get home too late."

as her father's form retreats heart stumbles uneasily in her heels towards the bathroom slamming the door open with the brunt of her shoulder. she falls to her knees with a hollow clang one hand braced against the wall of the bathroom stall and the other wrapped around the back of her dark hair. as she watches her stomach empty itself into the rim of a blinding white bowl the tears begin to prick the edges of her eyes again. shuddering, her body falls soft and defeated to the cold tile floor to let the sobs continue in earnest.

#please heed the tws besties #her father is not a kind man #tw emotional abuse #tw misogyny #tw emetophobia #tw alcoholism #h. srisevok. / self. #LAWLESSEVENT001

[oldestenemy]

the deathless, the undying, and the unwilling divine - part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The wizard feels eyes on them here.

A presence both familiar and far away.

The memory of a duel.

The memory of their own eyes and not.

“Wait—” They throw out both arms to stop everyone, movement ahead solidifying into the presence they remember. Into the shape of someone else seemingly torn from her rest.

“Professor Drake?” Duncan pushes past their outstretched arm towards the ghost of Sylvia Drake, sounding softer and smaller than the wizard thinks they’ve ever heard. “You—” He stops himself just before reaching her, knowing that she’s incorporeal, maybe not wanting the confirmation.

It’s hard to tell, and they wouldn’t know.

They’d never asked what any of the other students relationships with Sylvia were like.

Despite her obvious confusion, a smile breaks across Sylvia’s face. “Hello, Duncan.” Her gaze falls behind him, alighting on the other death students, and then the wizard as their arms drop. “What kind of nightmare do I find myself in, dear—” the next words out of her mouth don’t quite compute.

It’s their name.

And yet, like everything else, it’s out of reach here.

Nobody hears it.

Nobody speaks it.

Unacknowledged in its nonexistence.

Other things someday they might pry from Raven’s grip, screaming themself hoarse at the edge of her tree. It doesn’t matter now. Only one thing matters right now.

“—the last thing I recall was you putting an end to my Malistaire’s pursuit of the dragon titan, we were given the chance to move on, to be at peace but…” She trails off, gaze moving even farther off in thought. “A chanting began, a low and endless call that stirred him from rest. I could do nothing but watch as he was drawn away from me into Shadow, towards Azteca and—”

“—Towards me.” The wizard finishes, “I’m sorry, I hoped that by killing Morganthe I could send him back too but—I—” Their throat is closing again, eyes burning, normally burning, hot and wet with tears that would run clear instead of starlit ink. Dammit they hate crying, they hate the way it makes people look at them.

“That’s why we’re here.” Duncan says, and Sylvia—thankfully—looks back to him, “To make sure you’re both returned properly to the other side.”

Her expression softens again at his words, “I am glad you’re here, all of you. I do not know much of what the witch—” She says the word in such a way that it is clear she would like to say something stronger. “—Morganthe has done to Malistaire, but she shattered the tranquil state of his mind and sung his pain skyward. He became her plaything before I lost sight of him.”

“What I don’t understand about this,” Malorn starts, “we know Morganthe brought Malistaire back—but, Professor—how are you here?”

“I confess I am as lost in that as you,” Sylvia tells him, “I was not pulled through to Azteca, I awoke here, not long before your arrival.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ah, return of secondary villain extraordinaire. Shane Von Shane—in his ridiculous armor—joins them once again. “Good Mistress Drake, Malistaire simply adores you too much to be without you, and has vowed never to let you drift apart again. You will rule this place and more at his side, eternally.”

“You talk an awful lot for a pipsqueak vampire that got beat up by a bunch of—what was it—foolish children? Less than an hour ago.” Marla tells him, “Are you going to put up a proper fight this time around or am I going to get bored before the third round even starts?”

Sylvia Drake smiles again, seemingly ignoring Von Shane on purpose. “I’m glad to see that even without his guidance, you three have grown into wonderful necromancers.”

“We had a legacy to live up to.” Malorn replies, stepping in to form a line between Marla and Duncan to make sure the duel begins in the correct order.

“Well then, put it to good use—and put this fluttering bat to rest.” The wizard wonders if they are imagining the glint of angry satisfaction in Sylvia’s translucent eyes. But remembers that she is not just Sylvia Drake, the softly remembered Life Professor. She is Sylvia Spitfire—the almost scourge of the whole spiral itself.

“Vile spirit,” Von Shane spits at her, “Would you all cleave the sun from a rose? The moon from the stars? Would you extinguish music from the very spiral?”

The wizard pulls out the shadow point again, ready to place their extra circle. A quick nod to the others as they take their places. Out of the corner of their vision, Sylvia vanishes, and the duel begins.

He puts up a better fight this time, it’s clear to see Marla is enjoying the added challenge—perhaps because it’s more in line with the history of the supposedly great vampire lord. The wizard is glad one of them is at least getting something in the positive vein out of this experience.

This does give them the chance to test out Donate Shadow—with some coordination and a well timed death prism to make sure Marla’s spell does proper damage—and it works perfectly. Though the additional waiting slows things down, they can’t help thinking it’s an interesting utility. Especially given the spells from Tatyana would be useless to their friends otherwise. It also seems to ebb a little of the strain away—only barely—enough that the wizard feels a little warmer, doesn’t seem so close to the edge of too much. Carving their extra placements with the shadow point can only negate so much overuse.

That final Call of Khrulhu—followed by additional off-school hits from Duncan and Malorn—ends things.

Shane Von Shane’s carefully constructed mech suit stutters and halts, the magical power holding it together vanishing with his defeat. He shrieks as the pieces collapse, cursing them and flapping away towards a broken window.

“I beg all of you be cautious as you go onwards.” Sylvia reappears, gaze on the ceiling. “I can feel my Malistaire somewhere above, twisting in the coil of shadow. I no longer know whether he can be saved—but if it is possible, it lies in your hands.”

“We should stay here just for a minute,” Penny says quietly, she’s been more reserved since Sylvia’s appearance. The wizard thinks perhaps she feels a little out of place, the only one among them to have never met the two fallen Drakes. “Potions, all of you. We need to go into this as strong as we can.”

The wizard is concocting a plan while the others recover. Fingers tracing the Moon sigil, embedded with a touch of their own shadow, stepping back into the darkness near the stairs and hoping the double they leave behind is convincing.

Sylvia sees it as they step away, but says nothing to alert their companions.

Maybe she understands.

There is too much at risk here.

Too much danger.

They have to face him alone—their friends can say goodbye after it’s done.

Read the whole series here <3

#wizard101 #wizard101 fanfiction #wizard101 fic #wizard101 fandom #wiz101 #malistaire drake #sylvia drake #wizzy fandom #lark is still playing funky wizard game from their childhood

[liuvli]

Critical Darling

pairing: eddie munson x fem!goth!reader

summary: It's your senior year. You're a "goth freak" and you definitely stand out, but it doesn't bother you. You're proud of who you are, and nobody is going to change that. Not even the person that motivated you to be so proud in the first place. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.  

warnings: she/her pronouns, slow burn, cursing, alcohol, smoking, eventual smut, minor use of y/n, slightly bitchy reader, work in progress

tags: first meetings, pov second person, s4 doesn’t happen, goth!reader, tradgoth!reader, fluff, angst, eddie & chrissy friendship, reader is a little fruity

all fic chapters & ao3 link

chapter wc: 6.6k

Chapter Three: Leather Doll

“-up. Hey, wake UP!” You stirred awake at the sound of a fist hammering on your bedroom door, your sister's voice taking a minute longer to process. As you dragged the pad of your middle finger over your eyelids, attempting to wipe the sleep away, you managed to open a singular eye, your vision blurred but still able to make out the shape of the girl standing in your open doorway. 

“Huh…? What time is it?” As you lifted the quilt off your body, you kicked your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up with your arms stretched out above your head. 

“Phone’s ringing,” April replied, not answering the question you had actually asked. Groaning, you stood up and smoothed the t-shirt you were wearing out, sluggishly pushing past the short girl to make your way down the hall towards the staircase. She followed behind with a bowl of cereal in her hands. 

“Why couldn’t you have answered it? You’re a big girl, you don’t need me to answer the phone anymore.” You chuckled at the comment you made, April scoffing as she pushed past you to beeline into the kitchen. 

“‘Cause, it’s not for me.” 

“Hello…?” Your eyes snapped open at the loud voice on the other end replying to you, and as the person spoke, you finally realized who it was.

“G’morning, love! How is my favorite person in the entire world doing on this sunny Saturday?” Although you were the one who had been awake for only a maximum of 5 minutes, the chipper tone of Kace’s voice seemed so unwarranted for it being so early in the day. 

“I’m doing… good, Kace. I’ve been awake for about 30 seconds but still, doing amazing.” The way you annunciated the last word was telling of how sarcastic you were trying to seem while saying it, but apparently, that point didn’t get across to your friend. You walked out into the hallway with the landline still in your hand, the cord stretching to its limit as you turned the corner, looking at your puffy-eyed reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. 

“Great! Meet me at the diner in town at 2. See you there, love!” Before you could object to the boy’s preposterous demand, a click sounded through the phone as Kace hung up on you, the dial tone ringing into your ear as you groaned into the receiver. Knowing you had no other choice, you made your way back into the kitchen, placing the landline back onto the wall as you looked up at the clock. 12:24 pm. The late time you had woken up didn’t surprise you much as you recalled staying awake until 4 that same morning, just listening to music whilst reading one of the books you had acquired from the town’s bookstore earlier on in the week. 

“You going out?” April perked up, chewing on a mouthful of honeycomb cereal as she stared up at you through messy parted bangs. Despite how much you didn’t feel like leaving the house so soon, you accepted defeat as it was Kace who was asking you to leave the house. Not having the energy to return a verbal response to the girl, you lazily nodded before dragging yourself out of the room, heading back up to your own room to get dressed.

With some of your favorite music playing on the stereo you had on your desk, you were just about ready to leave the house over an hour later. You had spent the hour or so teasing and hair spraying your locks into a dark, frizzy mane, and painting your face with the palest drugstore foundation you could find, accentuating your features with black makeup of all different kinds. For it being October in Hawkins, and with just a single glance through your closed curtains, it seemed to be a warm, sunny day outside, which meant you chose one of your thinner draping dresses to wear; one with short sleeves that would still look somewhat okay with your black laced gloves and whatever silver jewelry you had thrifted over time. 

Being conscious of the time and not wanting to be late for Kace, you poked your head into the living room, looking around for April as your eyes finally locked onto her sitting on the couch. You tapped the door frame, trying to grab her attention away from whatever was in her lap as you spoke. 

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be back in a bit, and I’ve got my keys but if you decide to go anywhere, make sure to lock up with the spare key on the hook. ‘Kay, Apricot?” Strangely, the blonde didn’t perk up, even at the awful nickname you had been calling her since the beginning of time. Instead, she absentmindedly dismissed you with a nod, scrawling something into the notebook in her hands. Hoping she had somewhat listened, you finally left the house, slipping your headphones onto your head as you played the cassette you already had in your walkman. 

After a long trek into town whilst listening to one of your many mixtapes, you had finally reached the diner, slipping the headphones off the back of your head and letting them rest around your neck as your face scrunched up in dis-ease, an uncomfortable feeling settling thick in your chest. 

Your eyes landed on a van that was parked outside the diner in one of the parking spaces. It shouldn’t have made you feel so off, but for some reason, it did. It looks… familiar. But you couldn’t pinpoint why. Choking down the strange feeling lodged in your throat, trying to rid yourself of it, you made your way into the diner, hoping that spending time with Kace would serve as a distraction. 

As you made your way inside, your eyes darted around the semi-busy establishment, landing on a few people sitting at tables and booths. None of them were Kace, and you couldn’t see him anywhere, despite the fact that he usually stuck out like a sore thumb due to his bold, dark fashion choices, similar to your own, of course. Thinking that maybe you had gotten the time wrong or something, you look up at the clock on the wall above the counter, and sure enough, it had just hit 2:05 pm. As you were about to step outside to see if Kace’s car was even in the parking lot, the sound of a door opening caught your attention as you turned your attention over to the noise. As if he could sense your presence in the room as he walked out of the restroom, Kace’s head turned and his dark eyes locked with yours, a wide grin forming on his lips. The tall boy giddily walked over to one of the booths, sliding down onto a seat as he waved his hand at you, beckoning you to join him. 

He was sitting at a table with a few other people, and the gears started turning in your head as you recognized a few of the faces, specifically those belonging to Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson, two boys you knew through your sister being in the same grade as them. She had told you stories about the boys ever since she first went the middle school with them. Absolute menaces, from what you had gathered. 

Dragging your eyes away from the two bickering freshman, skimming over a few other unfamiliar faces and heads, your attention lands on the back of a single head in particular. Long, brown, knotted curls draped over a pair of broad, slumped shoulders, arms extending out towards the table as the figure rambled on about something you couldn’t quite distinguish. It was him, there was no doubt about it. His theatrics and iconic lion’s mane were recognizable to anyone. Why the fuck was Kace sitting at a table with the last person you wanted to see right now?

Figuring it’d be less awkward to take a seat at the booth rather than making a complete 180, walking out of the diner and never being seen again, you cautiously stepped towards the table, assuring to avoid letting your curious eyes fall on the face of the brunette as you slid onto the seat next to Kace, conveniently managing to place yourself directly opposite the one you dreaded acknowledging the most. Itching to understand the situation you had managed to get yourself into on that fateful Saturday afternoon, you cocked your head towards Kace, leaning closer to the boy to ensure only he could hear you speak. 

With a low, agitated whisper, you ask, “Care to explain how and why I’m currently sat across from the fucking Eddie Munson right now on a sunny afternoon when I could be elsewhere instead? You know, literally anywhere else.” The boy sitting at your side let his eyes flit down to the table in front of you, before coming back up to lock with yours, and the small accidental gesture made you follow suit. And that’s when you noticed it. 

Sprawled across the table were numerous pens, pencils, and sheets of paper, along with the diner’s menus. The vast amount of crumpled sheets of paper had words messily scribbled on each of them, all in different handwriting styles and colored pens. They were DnD planning sheets, and character sheets, from what you could tell. During one of your many hangout sessions over the years, you could recall the gothic boy you had known since you could remember talking your ear off once about the dreaded game that the parents of Hawkins seemed to loathe, and yet obsess over entirely at the same time. 

You didn’t understand the attraction of the roleplaying game, but you did know that the way Kace spoke about it meant it was something he loved more than anything he had ever spoken about to you before. Middle school was when he played it the most with friends he had met at summer camps, but the second high school rolled around, he seemed to have forgotten about it. From the predicament you were in now, however, apparently, he hadn’t forgotten at all. 

The pieces started to click together in your head as you began to understand what Kace was there for, but it didn’t answer the question you more importantly needed answering; why were YOU there? 

A once-in-a-lifetime warm, sunny October day in the miserable town of Hawkins, and I’m sitting in a stuffy diner with a traitor, who I once called my best friend, a table of boys I had never had the pleasure of talking to, and the one person I absolutely did not want to see today, or ever, in fact. Lovely, how great. I’m so lucky to be alive right now. 

“Well...” Kace’s raspy voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he finally decided to grace you with an attempt at a valid explanation, “I heard around school that Hendy and Wheeler were looking for a sub for Hellfire seeing as one of their members had to bail last minute for some other shit, and you know how much I’ve always wanted to play DnD with an actual club.” As you processed his words, your eyes wandered around the table, observing the 6 boys that had crammed into the one booth, each of them preoccupied with discussing things amongst themselves or scrawling messy notes onto sheets of lined paper. 

Kace was right, you had always known how much he wanted to play with an established team. But his reasonable explanation still didn’t answer your burning question. 

“Right… okay. Why am I here, though? I don’t know shit about this game, and I sure as hell won’t be learning any time soon.” Returning back to making eye contact with the slim boy hunched over next to you, he rolled his eyes as his fingers picked a pencil up from the table in front of him, tapping the pink eraser at the end of it against a sheet of paper. 

“… I need my support animal with me in these difficult times. Truth be told, I’ve never actually spoken to anyone here before yesterday, so planning a DnD campaign with two freshmen and some guys I don’t know seemed kinda… shit. Figured it wouldn’t hurt if I invited a plus one.” The tight-lipped, smug smile on Kace’s face made your blood boil as the cockiness in his tone was ever apparent. 

“Why the fuck am I your support animal? I thought I was your love, your dearest, most precious friend.” Trying to not reveal the slight annoyance you felt despite Kace’s understandable excuse for dragging you out of your house on a Saturday, you gently nudged the boy in his side with your elbow, laughing quietly as his tense shoulders softened at your lighthearted response. 

“You are, love. You are.” 

With a final, defeated sigh, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group sitting around the table, allowing Kace to continue writing down notes on a crumpled, coffee-stained sheet of paper. Not really knowing what you were supposed to do whilst acting as the boy’s “support animal”, you let your eyes skim across the faces of the others, trying to figure out the identities of the few you weren’t familiar with. 

After a few short seconds of no names coming to mind, your gaze managed to finally land on the brunette sitting directly across from you. 

…What the fuck…?

Eddie’s deep, brown eyes were wide, somehow bigger than their usual doe-like appearance, and the lower half of his face was masked by a thick tuft of hair from the side of his head which he was holding over his mouth, hiding whatever expression he was holding underneath. His eyes were boring into you, making your skin feel warm and itchy as you felt as if you were being watched like an animal in a zoo. Trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling created by Eddie’s eyes remaining so scarily and persistently trained on your face, you shifted in your seat as if trying to shrink in on yourself. Maybe if you were smaller and shrank down to the size of a bug, he wouldn’t be staring at you so intensely. 

However, the decision to attempt to shrivel in on yourself was your biggest mistake as your legs crossed under the table, and in par, the end of your boot grazed against Eddie’s leg, presumably dragging up his shin. Despite your internal monologue cursing out prayers to the almighty God that was supposed to be up there somewhere, the audible hitch in the boy’s breath and the way his entire frame stiffened at the contact was a clear indication that he had, in fact, noticed the accidental touch of your boot against his denim-clad shin. 

Against your own wishes, your eyes flicked back up and locked with his, immediately regretting doing so as you noticed the… disgust(?) on Eddie’s face. Almost as if he couldn’t even bare to be sitting across from you, let alone making any type of bodily contact with you (the feeling mutual, of course), the lids of his wide eyes fluttered in a sort of twitching motion. Before you could even do anything, such as apologize or run out of the diner, never to be seen again (something that seemed especially appealing today), the boy scrambled to slide out one of the laminated menus from under numerous sheets of paper, holding the large object up to his face and covering it in its entirety. As he did so, the dark curls peeking out from under the menu shifted on his shoulders, indicating that he had turned his head to face the younger boy sitting next to him, who quickly followed suit, eyes skimming past your face before fully landing on Eddie. 

As the two boys muttered behind the thin (and magically soundproof) laminated menu, you watched as the metalhead’s free hand waved around at his side, a sign that he clearly wasn’t exactly overjoyed about something. Twisting the rings around your fingers anxiously and trying to look at just about anything and everything in the room that wasn’t the silent scene in front of you, your eyes snapped back to look at Eddie and the boy in the sleeveless plaid jacket as the older male dropped the laminated menu onto the table to expose his face once again, eyes half-lidded in annoyance and an overall resigned look on his face. The brunette with the shorter hair shook his head expectantly as if waiting for Eddie to continue with his tantrum. With one last glance over at you as if to remind the metalhead that you were still there, Eddie breathed out an agitated, yet defeated sigh/groan, just like the one you had given Kace minutes before. 

Allowing Gareth to go back to discussing something with Wheeler and Henderson, Eddie turned his body to face you again, fidgeting in his seat to stretch his legs out under the table. His boot briefly entered your vision as the obnoxious gesture made it so the scuffed, leather shoe placed itself on the floor, slotted in between your own two boots. Rolling your eyes, you slid your headphones back onto your head, leaving one of the sides off of the ear that was closest to Kace, just in case the boy needed something from you. Preparing to waste your day sitting in a stuffy diner with a group of boys you entirely weren’t familiar with, and the infamous Eddie Munson, you pressed the play button on your walkman, allowing Joy Division to quietly play through the one headphone that was on your ear.

Throughout the next few hours, all the way through to somewhere around 6:30 pm, you resorted to being the one to make constant trips to order more food and drinks for the table, essentially turning yourself into the mom of the group. Over the span of four hours, you had dabbled in a few conversations the boys were having that weren’t entirely DnD related, grasping at any type of topic of conversation you could involve yourself in. Surprisingly, through the power of human connection, you had learned the names of the once nameless boys and had additionally learned that not all Hellfire members were aggravating pains in your ass. 

From what DnD-related conversations you had listened in on, you gathered that the boys were mostly coming up with ideas for future campaigns, assisting Kace in writing up a character sheet, and figuring out how to implement the boy’s character into their current team.

Despite how bored you had been the entire time, listening to both sides of your cassette twice and scribbling small drawings on a piece of paper Kace had given to you, you found yourself content with the situation you were in. Although it wasn’t how you’d usually spend your Saturdays, you enjoyed seeing Kace so happy and social, talking to people about something he had loved since the start of time itself. Even if Hellfire was only a temporary fix for him until their missing player, Lucas Sinclair, was freed from the restraints of basketball practice, a strictly scheduled occurrence enforced by Jason Carver himself, you knew Kace would make the most of being Hellfire’s sub.

Seeing Kace so authentically happy was great and all, but you were still bored. There are only enough times that you can listen to the same cassette in a short period of time before it gets repetitive, you know? Along with the long, awkward silence you had engulfed yourself in for the majority of the past few hours, you were also aching from how cramped up you felt. Eight people crammed into a single curved diner booth wasn’t really an issue, surprisingly; instead, it was the fact that you had chosen to keep yourself shriveled up in a small space, as earlier’s boot-knocking incident had you taking extra measures to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. This resulted in Eddie keeping his legs stretched out under the table just centimeters away from yours the entire time, only moving away whenever he had to stand for someone to get out of the booth or when he himself needed to go to the restroom. At this rate, you’d fossilize where you were sitting because of how you had managed to condense yourself into the smallest space possible like a sardine in a tin. 

Sitting back in your seat with your arms crossed, nails scratching at the skin on one of your thumbs, and walkman and headphones tucked away into your bag, your eyes wandered across the table absentmindedly, taking note of all the empty glasses in front of everyone. Thank the Lord. 

“Anyone need refills?” As you spoke up, the boys all turned their attention onto you, the clinking of glasses being pushed towards you sounding instantly at the same time. A couple of the boys murmured quiet ‘thank you’s as they continued talking amongst themselves, but Dustin spoke louder than the others.

“Thank you again. We’d be truly lost without you.” He nodded his head as he spoke, tipping his ‘Thinking Cap’ at you with a wide smile on his face. Collecting as many of the glasses in your arms as you could possibly hold without bearing the risk of dropping anything, you snorted at his somewhat genuine appreciation of you.

“No worries, Henderson.” You nodded in response to the boy as you began walking over to the counter with just about half of the empty glasses the boys had placed in front of you, making a mental note to go back to retrieve the leftover glasses that you couldn’t hold. 

Reaching the counter, the glasses clanked against each other as you set them down, feigning a dramatic huff and placing your hands on your hips in an exhausted mannerism. The girl working the counter turned around with a glass in hand, wiping the inside of it with a white dishcloth as she smiled warmly at you, before grabbing the dirty glasses and placing them on the countertop behind her. 

“You, like, their mom or something? This is your fifth time coming up to the counter to order stuff for them,” she lightheartedly joked, giggling to herself. With a breathy laugh, you sat down on one of the stools at the counter, trying to avoid ruining your makeup as you leaned your cheek on your palm, elbow digging into the cold surface it rested on. 

“Pfft, yeah, I basically am. The one with the similar get-up to me invited me here earlier without telling me what for, and now I’m stuck playing babysitter.” The blonde chuckled, pulling a pen and small notepad out of her breast pocket as she readied to take another order from you. 

“Tough luck,” she paused before asking you anything further, “actually, I’ve still got your drinks order from earlier written down here. You want me to just get you what you got then?” Grateful for her expert customer service skills, and ability to sense when someone just needed a bit of a break, you beamed at her in relief, holding your hands together in prayer. 

“God, yes, thank you. Forever grateful for your support in these trying times, hun.” With another giggle, the girl tucked her notepad and pen back into her pocket, giving you one last sweet glance before turning on her heel to start preparing the drinks. 

You watched the girl happily work as she hummed along to the quiet radio playing on the counter next to you, her blonde ponytail swaying with each movement she made. The cheerful pep in her step was refreshing the see in a town like Hawkins, especially after the long day you had been through. Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of the short moment of calm you were in as you sensed a body slide onto the stool directly next to yours, a hand decorated generously in chunky, silver rings placing a few empty classes on the counter entering the corner of your vision. 

Shit. Speaking to the cute waitress made me forget about those glasses… fuck.

Thankfully, despite your apparent incompetence to remember the mental note you had made, Eddie had decided to bring the other few empty glasses to the front, something you almost found yourself thanking him for. That was, of course, until you remembered exactly who he was. Eddie Munson. Instead, you stayed silent, keeping your eyes trained on the blonde happily dancing to the pop song playing on the radio. 

“Got a few more glasses for you here, Cunningham. You’re welcome,” he finally spoke, and the fact that he addressed the girl by a name had you intrigued. Did he know the girl? Thinking about it, the girl did seem somewhat familiar…

“Thanks, Eddie,” the blonde turned around for a second, grabbing the glasses and placing them on the back worktop with the others, “you guys doing your… Dungeons and Dragons stuff? It is called that, right?” The brunette let out a boyish chuckle, grinning as he fidgeted with the rings around his fingers idly. 

“Yeah, that’s right. And yeah, we are. ‘M hoping to start a new campaign next week with the boys and we’re just trying to get a few things rearranged and sorted seeing as one of our players is preoccupied with your boyfriend’s incessant need to keep a strict practice schedule.” As he responded, the girl fully turned her body to face him, her shoulders slumping and arms dropping at her sides as she wore an apologetic expression. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You know how Jason can get when it comes to basketball. I can try and get him to ease up on Sinclair, if you want-” 

“No, no, it’s fine. Honestly. We’ve got Hayes subbing for the time being, so there’s no need. Thanks for the offer though.” Giving the boy one last sincere smile, she turned back around the continue working on the back countertop. 

No longer occupied with his interaction with the blonde waitress, Eddie turned his attention over to you, trying to not make it obvious as you both locked eyes. Eddie “The Freak” Munson and the Chrissy Cunningham… were friends? For a reason you could most definitely place, that possibility seemed alien to you. 

“That’s the strangest crossover I’ve ever seen.” The now-silent boy cocked an eyebrow at you, still idly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

“You and the queen of Hawkins High. Didn’t know you knew each other.” With a quiet scoff beforehand, Eddie laughed snarkily at your comment, grabbing onto a few of the beverages Chrissy had placed on the countertop in front of the two of you.

“Yeah, well, I know a lot of people, doll. Don’t get too jealous, will you?” With a single obviously sarcastic, half-assed smile, Eddie made his way back to the booth where everyone was sitting, placing the glasses he had carried over in front of a few people. 

You sat silent, in a mixture of offense and awe as Chrissy turned around and placed a few more full glasses on the counter, tightening her ponytail before leaning against the cold surface, her eyes locked onto Eddie just as yours were. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s probably just annoyed that he’s paying for an unexpected party member’s drinks.” As the girl spoke, your eyes widened as your snapped your head to the side to face her, lips slightly parted in shock. 

“Oh, shit. He’s the one paying for all these? I thought everyone chipped in at the end or something-” The blonde laughed with a soft lilt. 

“He does a lot for his boys, believe it or not. And he certainly wouldn’t make a lady pay for her own drinks in his presence, no matter he much he loves to act as if you’re the bane of his entire being.” Listening to Chrissy’s words, your eyes had somehow found themselves settled on the boy’s side profile, taking note of the way his lips curled up at the corners as he grinned at the Hellfire club. When you looked back at Chrissy, the girl was smiling at you, her cheeks rosy and bunched up. 

Looking down at the glasses on the counter to try and distract yourself from the previous conversation, you picked up a few before realizing you weren’t going to be able to hold two of them, Chrissy thankfully catching onto this realization.

“Go and take a seat, I’ll bring the other two over.” You nodded, silently thanking the girl as you accepted her help without another thought. 

Making your way back over to the booth, you slid down onto your seat, handing a glass to Kace and sliding one over to Jeff as he nodded at you gratefully. Chrissy placed two glasses on the table which were immediately scooped up by Dustin and Mike, the boys instantly downing half of their drinks in a split few seconds. 

After being back at the table for only at least 10 minutes, Chrissy’s words were still lingering at the very front of your mind as you stared across at Eddie, a ring-clad finger pointing at the curly-haired freshman as he lectured him on a “stupid, bullshit, nonsensical” suggestion he had made, the freshman arguing back with the same amount of ferocity. Trying not the dwell on staring at the side of the metalhead’s face for too long, you sipped on your glass of coke as you stared out the diner window, the sky very noticeably dark as it neared 7 pm. You looked down, and your straw was marked black, your lipstick clearly being the culprit. Christ, sitting in silence was really fucking boring. 

You sat wondering how much longer you’d have to sit in silence putting up with the shouting-fest happening around you, the boys “debating” (arguing) on whether they should write Lucas’ character out of next week’s upcoming campaign, or if they should just leave his absence unexplained, not mentioning it in the story. Truly riveting entertainment, you thought. 

As if you had manifested it or all of your praying to a higher power throughout the day had finally come to fruition, the boys soon decided to call it a day, Eddie declaring that it was for the best before someone got murdered. The sudden cold October breeze nipped at your exposed skin as you stood by the door to the diner, waiting for Kace to finish a conversation with Gareth as you lit yourself a cigarette.

Apparently, sunny October weather isn’t to be trusted. The fact that you had, for once, decided to leave the house in thin clothing, one of your favorite long, black, witch-esque dresses without a jacket, was now a decision that had come back to bite you in the ass. Standing outside in the diner’s parking lot freezing your ass off whilst waiting for Kace to drive you home wasn’t really how you saw your evening going. 

Trying to occupy your mind with something other than the way the cold air slivered along every inch of your body, you turned your head to look through the diner’s window, watching Chrissy clean tables, her blonde bangs framing her face perfectly as her head dipped to lean down. Too busy focusing on what she was doing, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching you until the sound of a metal chain rattling alerted you. Taking a drag of your cigarette, you slowly turned your head as you pried your eyes away from the blonde waitress, the smoke you exhaled through your nostrils immediately dispersing in the wind.

“Jesus, Kace, finally. I was wondering how long it was gonna ta-” You turn, and lock eyes with Eddie Munson, who was just standing less than a meter in front of you. What the fuck, man. 

“Need something, Munson? Or you just gonna stand there and look pretty?” You take a deep drag of your cigarette as the brunette let out a low chuckle, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and his eyes flicking around the area in an attempt to avoid prolonged eye contact with you.

“I’m s’posed to be giving Gareth the Great a ride home but he’s busy talking to your friend over there.” Giving yourself a boost by standing on your tippy-toes, you peeped over the boy’s shoulder, and sure enough, Kace is leaned against the side of Eddie’s van talking to the much-shorter male in the plaid jacket, the two of them happily chatting along about something you couldn’t hear from such a distance. 

Pursing your lips together, you flick the ash off the end of your cigarette. Finally making actual eye contact with you, the most intentional it had been the entire day, Eddie asks, “May I?” You’re confused for a moment before he brings a hand up to point at the cigarette slotted between your two fingers. You take a couple of beats to contemplate. 

...

For the sake of simplicity. 

“Sure, whatever,” you respond, holding the cigarette up to allow the metalhead to pinch it from your grasp. He does so, and brings it up to his face, inspecting the black lipstick painted around the filter end of the white stick. With his head dipped to observe the marks, his eyes look up at you through thick lashes, seemingly analyzing your face before bringing the stick up to his lips, inhaling deeply, holding it for a long few seconds before exhaling through his nose, a gesture you thought was his way of mocking you. 

Now without the distraction of the cigarette between your lips, you quickly resumed your shivering, the cold once against starting its assault on you as the summer-friendly dress you were wearing neglected to do you any favors as you stood out in the mid-October Hawkins weather. Eddie snorted as he noticed your shivering.

“Cold out, isn’t it? Careful, love, you’ll scare someone off with all that teeth-chattering. Or maybe it’ll just be the way you dress, who knows.” You grimaced at his snide remark, looking at him with a face of pure disgust. 

“Don’t call me that.” Eyebrows perked up in a condescending manner, Eddie took a step closer to you, letting the cigarette sit between his index and middle fingers as he crossed his arms, the leather of his jacket audibly rubbing together. 

“What, you got a preference or something? Didn’t get any complaints earlier when I called you doll. Is that it, maybe?” his head dipped to hang just next to yours, his cheek just a few small inches away from your own, “is that what really does it for you?” The snarl as he spoke those last few words was laced with mockery, and you snatched the cigarette from his grasp while he was so close, taking a drag from it.

“Fuck off, Munson,” you exhaled a cloud of smoke in the boy’s cocky face, causing him to step back slightly, “you walked away before I could smack you ‘round the head for that one. It wasn’t really a fair fight by my standards.” Overhearing the conversation between Gareth and Kace soon coming to an end, Eddie turned his nose up at you, looking over his shoulder momentarily at the two boys. 

“It’s never a fair fight with me, angel.” You scoff, trying to mask the way the new nickname made your skin crawl. Or maybe it was the gust of chilled wind that danced over your exposed limbs. It was something, that’s all you knew. 

Turning your head to avoid the much-taller male’s gaze, you take a small drag of the nearly burnt-out cigarette, but as you did, you felt the boy standing in front of you shove something into your arms. 

“Hold this,” he ordered, the stubby cigarette falling out of your grasp at the impact and dropping to the ground below. As you looked down, the sight of patches sewn onto denim was an immediate indication as to what you were holding. You squint your eyes in confusion, looking back up to see Eddie peeling his dull leather jacket from his torso, switching it out for the vest you had in your arms. 

“It’s cold. Be grateful that I’ve gone the extra mile to lend you my beloved jacket instead of the vest. Denim’s not really your style, is it, doll?” Not knowing how to respond in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in, your eyes scan every little detail of the metalhead’s face, trying to find some sort of ulterior motive hidden in the fine lines. 

“Hey, Ed! We going or what?” The sound of Gareth’s voice shouting over to your direction from the distance interrupted your train of thought, and Eddie turned around to give the boy a thumbs up before turning back to face you, a simple nod being the last bit of “reasoning” you got from him as he spun on his heel, jogging over to the van. The two boys exchanged a few words before climbing into the vehicle and driving out of the parking lot in a matter of a single minute. 

Before you could process or notice anything at all, Kace was standing at your side with his arms crossed, staring at the van as it drove out of the parking lot. 

“Gareth’s cool,” you finally say, Kace angling his head to look down at you. He nodded, and you felt his eyes burning into the bulky jacket you held in your arms.

“Should I ask?” he questioned as you rolled your eyes, beginning your walk over to his Chevrolet Camaro on the other side of the parking lot, the slender boy following right behind you. 

“Munson being a condescending prick as usual. It’s not even that cold.” You attempted to stifle a shiver as the breeze got one last attack in, Kace laughing as he opened the passenger door for you, allowing you to climb in before making his way around to the driver’s side of the navy blue vehicle.

As Kace got the car started up and began driving out of the parking lot, a thought finally hit you. 

“Hey, why couldn’t you give me a ride to the diner earlier? If I’d known you drove today, I would’ve been able to get there at the same time as you rather than being later than literally everyone else.” Turning the car stereo on, lowering the volume majorly as The Cure began blasting through the speakers, Kace shrugged, glancing over at you in the corner of his vision. 

“Dunno. Felt like being a dick.” He quietly snorted to himself as you rolled your eyes. 

“I hate you.” The boy lifted his right hand over to you, lazily tousling it in your hairsprayed mane as you flicked the appendage away. 

“My heart is yours too, love.” The affectionate response made your cheeks ball up as a smile spread across your lips.

Apart from the few moments where you managed to include yourself in off-topic conversations, the entire day had been long, boring, and most definitely awkward, but finally getting some quality best-friend-time in with just Kace settled the unease that had been festering in your chest all day since the moment you arrived at the diner. With your forehead dropping to rest against the car window, you idly tightened your hold around the leather item of clothing resting in your lap, pulling it against your chest as your fingers fiddled with the icy, metal zipper. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #st4 #goth!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie brain rot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic

[waspclan]

It took a quarter-moon of nagging, but Bouncerumble’s finally convinced Buzzardfur to travel to the Moonfalls. Shining water crashes from the cliff to the riverbed below, creating an almost deafening clamor that has him wondering how medicine cats can stand coming here every half-moon. He sighs and shakes off the thought, but what floods into his brain next is even worse: how does he deserve this? Why him? What do the others see in him? This can’t be the right choice. Still, if Bouncerumble is so convinced that StarClan will grant him nine lives …

After a long walk—during which Buzzardfur nearly slips on the wet rocks multiple times—Bouncerumble comes to an abrupt stop next to a fallen tree trunk that spans the river. “Sit,” they say, and Buzzardfur does, staring into the water that sparkles beneath Silverpelt.

“This is the place?” 

Buzzardfur winces at his own stupid questions, but Bouncerumble simply nods. “Touch your nose to the water,” they instruct, “and let your mind be free. StarClan will visit you. I know they will.”

Buzzardfur is still dubious as he crouches down next to the river, but he obeys nonetheless. 

It doesn’t happen right away, but it doesn’t take too long, either. One moment, all he sees is the inside of his eyelids; the next, Buzzardfur finds himself in the center of a grassy clearing, his fur drenched in silvery starlight. He looks down at the ground and rubs one paw against the thick grass beneath it; he knows—thinks—he hasn’t physically moved, but it feels as real as the wet rock had just a few moments ago. 

Why is he alone, though? Where is everyone? Surely some cat is supposed to be here to greet him—nine of them, if they’re planning on giving him his nine lives. But …

“Buzzardfur.”

Buzzardfur starts, the fur on his back raising, and whips around, but when he sees who it is, his haunches settle. It’s nobody he knows, he thinks, not even anyone he’s seen at a gathering, but somehow, the cat who’s greeted him—a small, silvery-white tom with black swirls in his fur—is familiar, like an old friend. “You’re … Do I know you?” he asks, and the other cat smiles gently.

“Not yet.” The other cat shakes his head, though the smile remains. “I’m here to watch over you and the cats you lead. My name is Lambheart.”

“Lambheart,” Buzzardfur repeats. “Are you … are you from the original WaspClan?”

The smile on Lambheart’s face falters. “I was, yes,” he says after a beat, a hint of sadness in his voice. “It was a good clan when I knew it. We were …” He shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m here to talk about. There’s a new WaspClan, Buzzardfur, and I want to help give you the power to lead it.”

Buzzardfur’s questions are still myriad, but he doesn’t protest, as much as he wants to. “Right. I’m ready,” he lies, and shuts his eyes.

When Lambheart touches his nose to his forehead, Buzzardfur hardly has a moment to register it before a wave of intensity washes over him. There’s no other word to describe it: it’s not a good feeling or a bad one, just … intense. Over the pounding over his heart in his ears, he makes out Lambheart’s words: “Take this gift, to help you endure in the face of hardship.”

Buzzardfur opens his mouth to reply, but finds himself speechless. When he manages to open his eyes, he finds himself surrounded by wispy, starry figures in the shape of cats. Some of them are strangers, but some he recognizes—his sister Stripekit, who’d died of redcough; his father’s best friend, Wolftooth, who’d been slain by a SaplingClan warrior. His voice fails as he tries to call out to them, but just seeing them fills him with warmth.

“We grant you your remaining eight lives,” they say, a chorus of meows filling the air. Over and over, Buzzardfur is hit with swirls of energy, stronger than anything he’s ever felt before. “Use them well, with our blessing.”

The StarClan cats’ voices are still echoing in his mind when Buzzardstar opens his eyes—his real ones this time. He stares at the star-speckled water of the Moonfalls, breathing heavy. Buzzardstar, Buzzardstar, Buzzardstar!

“Buzzardstar?” Bouncerumble asks, and the voices fall silent.

Buzzardstar shakily gets to his paws, feeling both exhausted and more alive than ever, and tilts up his head to stare at the glistening sky. “Let’s go home,” he says, and for just a moment, a burst of pride flickers in his heart.

#clangen #update #buzzardstar #bouncerumble #lambheart

[miss-wanna-draw96]

The Beginning of a Cursed Fate - Original story

CHAPTER 1: I'LL BECOME GOD

The shadow cried again, wondering why this had to be the end for its kind. Its kin were not evil. They were only brought back from the shadows to show the humans their deepest and most treacherous sin. So why were they attacking its brethren? It wouldn't know, nor understand.

In a terrible moment, it saw its father, its caretaker, get ripped away from it. It called out, "Verak Toma!" The father screamed something out, something in a language it didn't understand, what did he just say? It was too frantic, too angry, too much for a little creature with no mother. And in that moment, no father.

A shadow being, a shadow of a a lady who was consumed by her envy. So the little child labeled her as "Envy", but that's not her name. It's kind do not have names. They weren't allowed to have them, it was deemed so by their flesh husks. And it had broken the rules. And yet, it didn't know that.

The shadow shrieked as a flesh husk grabbed its arm and started to pull it. The flesh husk screamed something at the child, but it didn't understand. Finally, the flesh husk pulled it to the chest and called out to other husks. The shadow of envy's wisps of smoke grew, knowing that she could not save it. She couldn't save the rule-break. Nobody could.

The chunks of flesh spoke words to each other, their mouths moving with ease and quickness. It was almost graceful in a way. One was barking orders at others in blue suits, face were masked. They held weapons. The child wept, silky tears of red ran down the shape of it's face, or what should of been a head, the absence of a head shape. The ones that held it began to match towards a large metal box with wheels and smoke emerging from a long metal pole. The stench of something unfamiliar hit what should have been its nostrils. Thr smell was burnt, dark and left a bad taste in its mouth. Gas from fire and a liquid it couldn't identify.

It shut its eyes tightly, and turned away from the flesh husks. The monsters whom took it away from its kin.

It never saw them again. Forever trapped in a laboratory with no contact with the outside world, or its kind.

---------

In the near future, the present, a boy with dark skin winced as a more fair tanned girl, his age, brushed his hair out. The girl let out a groan of frustration as the comb got caught in his hair again.

She shook her head and said sternly, "Maxwell, you gotta start taking care of your hair better. Every single goddamn time that I do this, the comb always gets stuck in your knotted hair." The way she spoke made Maxwell want to curl up into a ball and cry. She didn't know what he had to do to become who he was today. She didn't know the cost of the surgery, nor the pain he felt when it was over. Or when it began.

The boy named Maxwell replied, slightly upset, "Paige, I'll have you know that my genes make it hard for me to do anything, especially since my eyesight has gotten worse. As for my hair, I'll do better. Just next time you're in town, you get me the... 'Clean Bean' honey and milk hair products. It works well with my hair."

Paige managed to wrangle the comb out of his hair as he spoke, but she sighed quietly. She gave a smile to herself as she replied, "Yeah, I can do that for you. But you owe me for this." She teasingly punched his shoulder, he chuckled. At least they had each other, and her older brother of course.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He paused before asking, "How is Nathaniel doing? It has been awhile since we've seen him." The smile from her face drifted away, then she looked away from his curious gaze.

"Nathaniel is still at his job at the family shop where mom and dad make him work to death and barely pay him anything! I'm trying to convince him to take a job at the local store near here, the bird shop, the one where Carson works at, but he refuses to because he's stubborn. He keeps saying that our parents need his help and I should help him too, but helping them is a total nightmare, Maxwell. He loves them too much to see the abuse that they put him through in the past and now. He just doesn't that they're using him and emotionally abusing him." It took her a moment but she caught her breath and continued her rant. "Carson and his manager, slash friend, James, are better than them and they pay better since they have a bigger shop and need new employees. I'm going to work there myself and I know that you're going to try to get a job at the daycare, which is fine because I heard that the other workers there are nice and the pay is fine. Just don't let anyone hurt you like my parents hurt Nathaniel." Maxwell had stayed silent throughout the entire rant she just told, because he wanted her to get her troubles and worries out. After all, roommates do that, and so do friends.

"I won't if you won't. Is that a deal?" Maxwell asked, his voice soft and comforting while trying to lighten the grim mood. And it miraculously worked. Paige held out her pinky and he took it in his own.

"It's a deal. Now, for the love of God, help me with your hair this instant before I lose my shit on you and your messed up, tri colored hair." Maxwell had burst out into a roaring laughter, and Paige followed quickly in his loud laughter. Their friendship was like no other where they lived. After a while, Maxwell and Paige had settled down besides she said, "I'm serious. Today is your first day working at the daycare and I want you to make a good first impression on them."

"Paige, I understand. Let's just pull my hair up into a low ponytail, okay?" A minor suggestion but Paige agreed to it. She took her last hair tie and started to brush his hair once more in soft and slow motions, until finally, she took his hair and slipped the hair tie on. She gave it a final brushing and stepped back.

"You're ready." She confidently stated as she stepped back from the metal stool he was sitting on. And like that, he stood up and glanced back to see her face.

"Thanks, I owe you big time for this." Maxwell took his sunglasses and sat them on his head. "I'm going now. Have fun convincing your bro to quit, I believe in you."

And like that, he left the dormancy, leaving Paige alone.

Well, for eleven seconds at most.

Paige turned around only to yell at a disfigured humanoid creature hybrid on her kitchen counter. The creature was terrified, eyes wide like a dog. The creature had a chain around its throat and around its wrists. That's when Paige noticed the scars on its body. The inside of each wound was a rich shade of black. Definitely not human. A shadow being had broken loose from its confines from a laboratory the government hid from people like Paige.

In perfect English, it whispered, "Are you... Paige Lockhart? Kin of Nathaniel Lockhart?"

-----------

A/N: Chapter name comes from the song "Shadow's Art" by Vane Lily. Give it a listen to mostly understand the entity in Paige and Maxwell's dorm room.

Notes: I do hope you enjoy this chapter and my story. This is no longer connected to TMC or anything like that. I pulled a Plushstarfever and made the characters OCs because you know what? I can do that. And each chapter will be as long as I want. Now, I'll outright say this: I'm inspired by @/mustangs-flames and @/missr3n3 on Tumblr. If it wasn't for them, this story wouldn't have existed, nor the reboot of the story. So, if they're reading this on Tumblr, thank you both for being so talented and amazing. You both have given me the strength to write more and to just write whatever I want in general. Thank you.

I have given both Nathaniel and Paige designs that I'm proud of and I'll post them in a new and separate art book (and on Tumblr). Love y'all ^-^]

#cursed fate new beginning #hope you enjoyed chpt 1 #also mustang and r3r3 i hope you have a good day/night or wherever you are in the world #yall are awesome #so thank you for that #cursed fate nathaniel #cursed fate paige #cursed fate maxwell #original characters #original story