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athenamikaelson · 10 months

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Complaints and Harriet Styles

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary- The reader likes to complain a lot, everyone in Mystic Falls knows this. Klaus Mikealson finds it quite entertaining though.

Word Count- 2.2k

Warnings- Swearing, biting, one innuendo from Santa Klaus

Note from Author- Might do a part 2 to this is ya'll want it, let me know.

“Listen, Damon. This whole, “I’m the scary brother” act you got going on it’s such a cliche man. Why not try something different, switch it up. It has got to be hella boring to have been playing the same role for over like 1,000 years, or however old you are. I wasn’t listening when Stefan was telling me the story of you two.” I try explaining to Damon as he stares blankly at me while holding a bourbon in his hand.

“Y/N, who let you into my house?” Damon asks me as he throws back the rest of his drink and then starts to pour himself another one. I just shrug my shoulders.

“You left the door unlocked and I thought, why not? Elena and Bonnie are off somewhere and Caroline is planning some dance for Ms. Lockwood. So I had no one else to talk to.”

“You mean to complain to?” He asks with a roll of his eyes. Which in turn makes me roll my eyes.

“I don’t complain a lot.” I defend myself, which only gets me an annoyed look.

_____

“This is too heavy!” I yell to Caroline as she hands me a box of party supplies that she roped me into to decorate her house with for some stupid party. I look into the box and pick out a long hot pink boa scarf.

“The hell is this for?” Caroline looks at me holding the scarf and rolls her eyes.

“To wear obviously. And stop complaining, that box is like less than five pounds.” She tells me as she takes a balloon from his pile of decorations and starts to blow it up.

“Ok 1. You’d have to hold me down and knock me out if you ever wanted to put that thing on me. And 2. I’m not complaining, you just have inhuman strength so you can’t tell when something is heavy to frail humans like myself.” Caroline just rolls her eyes at me placing the balloon back onto the table by her. She walks over to me and grabs the box from my hands, “You complain too much.”

______

“Ok, listen up, fellow soon to be seniors! If I get superglue stuck on my fingers one more time I’m throwing in the towel and going on home, it’s past my bedtime anyways.” I say walking into the classroom that holds Elena, Caroline, Matt, Tyler and Bonnie. They all turn to me, I hear a giggle come from Elena as she looks at the clock on the wall.

“Y/N, it’s only 8 p.m.” I look at her in confusion then glance at my watch, “Oh.”

Tyler walks over to me and grabs the super glue from my hand.

“If you have such a hard time with the super glue then Caroline and I will go and do it.” He glances at Caroline who just shakes her head and laughs, “And you say you don't complain a lot.” She says to me as she passes me and squeezes my shoulder.

“I do not complain a lot!” I yell to her as she walks out of the classroom. Elena walks up behind me and wraps her hand around my shoulder.

“Come on, you can help me superglue Ric’s desk, but don’t worry I’ll handle the superglue.” She giggles to herself as she leads me out of the classroom and into the hallway. I’m about to start talking about how hot the hallway is but Elena halts us as a man walks in front of us.

“Yo dude! Didn’t you see us walking here? Move!,” I look at him as he slowly takes his eyes off of Elena and onto me. He stares silently at me, a crease in between his eyebrows as if he’s debating something in his mind. The hallway is dark so I can’t quite see his features as well as I would, but the features I do see are very nice to look at.

“Dude you deaf or something? Usually when someone tells you to move you’re supposed to move,” I frown to myself and then turn to Elena, “Wait, was that offensive?” Elena just looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. A look of fear in her eyes. I look back at the man in front of us.

“Sorry if that offended you man. Sometimes I just say things, but also like to move out of my way now please, thank you.” I go to walk around him bringing Elena with me but I feel the man grab me by the elbow pulling me into the opposite direction.

“Hey! What the actual fuck man!,” I see that he also has Elena by the elbow as he says something to her, but I’m too busy trying to break myself free from his grip.

“Dude literally let me go, also your cologne literally smells like the pre teen-boy section of an Aeropostle.” We halt. I see the man turn towards me with a dark look in his eyes.

“What did you just say to me?” Oh. He’s british. God that’s hot.

“Um, the let go of me part or the shitty perfume thing?” I watch as he looks at me also like I’ve grown a second head. I really need to find a mirror because I’m starting to wonder if I actually have.

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” He asks me with a hard tone.

I tap my chin with my finger in a thoughtful manner and shrug one shoulder, “The sixth member of one direction?” I look up to him with a sarcastic smile and then laugh at the incredulous look on his face, a very nice looking face.

He begins to open his mouth to speak before he shuts it and shakes his head in frustration. And starts dragging Elena and I again.

“Dude-,” “If you open that mouth of yours one more time the next thing to come out of it will be your tongue.” Mr. British cuts me off without giving me a glance. Ok then.

_______

Ok, so Mr. British guy’s name is actually named Klaus. The same Klaus who killed Elena, or he thought he killed her then she came back to life or something. I keep on getting bored with all these stories people keep talking about. Klaus is here though I think to not kill Elena again, or to kill Elena? Once again no clue. But he made me sit on the bleachers and just watch as he snapped Tyler’s neck and told Bonnie to contact some witch or something. There was also a pretty blonde girl, but she left with Tyler’s body and Caroline. I sit on the bleacher for another moment then stand up, screw you British guy.

I step off the bleacher and walk over to Elena who is shaking in fear. I pull her into a hug since I think she might need one. I feel a hand pull me away from her after a moment though and come face to face with the brit.

“Oh, great. It’s you.” I say sarcastically.

“Did you not hear me when I told you to stay seated on the bleacher?” He asks me angrily. His hand was tightening on my shoulder.

“Obviously I heard you man. You like to talk loudly and a fucking lot. You must love to hear your own voice huh? And besides, my ass started to hurt. And also, who died and made you the boss! Just because you’re all strong and have a hot accent doesn’t mean you can just go bossing people around, asshat.”

“Y/N! Stop!” Elena yells to me desperately. I just turn to her and shrug my shoulders, then look back to wannabe Harry Styles. Harriet is looking at me with a dark look, but the grip on my shoulder has lessened.

“Have you always had no self-preservation skills? Or are you just stupid?” He asks me.

I stare at him in disbelief, “You know what dickwad? Just because I don’t want to deal with whatever mid-life crisis you’re currently having doesn’t mean I’m stupid. To actually let you know I have straight A’s,” I stop my rant and then roll my eyes, “Ok, mostly straight A’s, I have one D in art but that’s because my art teacher is like you,” I point to him, “A jackass, and he thinks that only his tastes and thoughts are correct. So it actually isn’t my fault. I personally think my art is much better than his.” I look back up to Klaus and he’s looking at me with an almost contemplative look.

“Has anyone ever told you, you stare a lot?” I ask him with a sarcastic tone.

“Has anyone ever told you, you complain a lot?” He says with the same tone of voice that I used. The corner of his lip starts to move as if he wanted to smirk.

I look up in thought at his question and tap my chin, “You know what, I actually have heard that before. I personally don’t think of it as complaining though. More of, sharing my annoyance with the world.”

The smirk on his lips is very present now and for a second I could’ve sworn it started to turn into a smile.

“To answer your question, I only tend to stare at people who gain my attention.” He tells me, making me stare at him for a second too long.

Ya. Ok. Whatever that means. I go to give him a snarky remark but Stefan runs in looking more brutish than usual.

“Oh look! Stefan’s back!” I say, smiling at him. Which doesn’t even get me a glance in my direction as he keeps his eyes on Klaus who I now notice is standing a little too close to me. Weirdo.

Stefan goes on to say something about something but once again I don’t quite care to listen. So I go and lean against the wall until Blondey from earlier comes in and bites Elena for some reason. I quickly lean up and start walking over to her.

“Hey bitch! Hasn’t anyone ever told you to keep your hands to yourself!” The blonde, who as she looks at me I now notice is very attractive. I have to stop my ogling though because after Klaus rips her from Elena she starts to storm her way over to me. Before she can get to me though my vision is blocked off by Klaus’ back.

“Not her.” He tells blondey rather sternly.

“Whatever.” She says as she storms off out of the gym. Klaus turns back to me and looks at me, eyes moving over my face oddly.

“You need to go home.” He tells me then turns around dismissively. I walk in front of him, stopping him from confronting Stefan.

“You are not the boss of me, and besides why the hell would I ever leave Elena, who is my friend, alone with vampires?” I yell at him, which makes him just roll his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m not going to ask you again, you need to go home.” He tells me.

“Bitch what? You didn’t even ask me shit! You demanded me.” I want to start ripping him a new one but Elena places her hand on my shoulder

“Y/N, I’m going to be ok. Please go home, I need to know at least you’re going to be ok.” She says to me with a dreary smile. I go to argue but she interrupts me again begging me to leave quickly. What the heck is up with people interrupting me.

“Fine,” I turn to Klaus, “But, if anything happens to her, I’m going to rip your dick off.” That makes him give a slight flinch. I give one more look to Elena and Stefan, who gives me a small nod and then head to the door.

When I grab the handle of the door I hear Klaus call my name from behind me, I turn around and jump when I find Klaus standing right behind me.

“Jesus man, warn a woman.”

“Next time we see each other Y/N, I’d like to see that artwork of yours that you believe deserved better than a D.” Klaus says as he looks down to me. I go to speak but nothing seems to want to come out. Klaus must’ve noticed this because a smirk forms onto his face.

“Is this the first time you’ve ever not had a response?” He has the audacity to gain a bigger smirk, “What a shame, I was growing fond of that mouth of yours.”

“Um, ya. Um,” I start to feel my face heat up under his gaze, “I’m leaving now, oddball.” I say as I book it out of the gym. As i make it to the end of the hall I glance over my shoulder and make eye contact with Klaus who’s still standing in the same spot with the same stupid smirk on his face.

“I’ll make sure to wear different cologne next time we meet Y/N.” Klaus says as he walks back into the gym leaving me alone.

“What the actual fuck?”

PART 2- HERE

#author #athenamikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson #thecwshows #thevampirediaries #the vampire diaries #the originals #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #stefan x elena #elena gilbert #the vampire diares imagine #x reader #rebekah mikaelson

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transmascissues · 6 months

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some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

#top surgery adventures #<- gonna start putting all the posts about my top surgery in that tag #top surgery #trans man #transmasc

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miintsprigz · 4 months

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Mercs x GN! reader who drew them (ALL NINE!)

This goes out to everyone, not just my artists.

But yes, all my fic material is extremely self-serving.

Big thank you to a dear friend of mine for helping me with mercs like Pyro, Engie, Sniper, and Medic when I got stuck.

VERY LONG POST INCOMING

Scout

• Well, he IS an artist himself, that’s probably how the two of you first started talking.

• Ran past one day, only to immediately throw it in reverse and go “hey whoa whoa whoa when were you gonna tell me you could draw?!”

•Naturally…it was only a matter of time.

•He was always so encouraging about your stuff, so…after working up the guts, you showed him.

• “Yo wait a sec…you drew me??? I…” For once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been drawn—not even a self-portrait. For as cocky as he seems…well…

•He just…stares for a second. Marveling. Is that…really what I look like?

• “Do you like it?” “Abso-friggin-lutely, (Y/N)!!! You kiddin’? I don’t even look that beautiful in real life! And ya know, that’s sayin’ somethin!”

•You laugh, and he pulls you in so fast to hug you that you weren’t even ready. “But seriously…thank you. I’ve uh…I’ve never been drawn before. You did amazing. …you know I gotta draw you now, right?”

•And he does. He’s a complete perfectionist about it—he feels like he can’t replicate you, you’re one of a kind. (He actually does very well! But he’s so shy showing it to you…d’aww.)

Pyro

•Pyro was more of a doodler than anything. They loved color. And of course, you could resonate with that.

•Sometimes you’d draw designs and let them color it in. They giggled all the while…they just adored how creative you were.

•Being the most secretive about their appearance, they’re hard to nail down…even for you. Pyro is most themself in their full gear. You, out of everyone, know that best.

•So you took a…different approach. Abstraction.

•Their hands, the ones that so often seemed to be magnetically drawn to you.

•Their back, the strong shoulders when they just felt content to sit in the quiet with you.

•The brief glimpses you’d caught of their face—split second instances in shadows—those were easy, yet challenging. Their brief sightings made them easy to be abstract about, and yet, it made them harder to actually nail down.

•Conjuring a rather fittingly smoky composition, it had a dreamlike feel to it. Pure Pyro.

•You were only a bit hesitant to show them, but when they did see…they surprised you a bit.

•You could see them straighten up a bit…surprised. They craned their neck a bit, looking closer, gently curling their fingers over yours to hold the snapshot-like portraits with you.

• “Hmmm…” There was a sort of…tranquility to them. So unlike your little sparky fella.

• “Do you like them?” Immediately, the edge of their mask bumped against your forehead—your own personal way of kissing. That was all the answer you needed.

•They couldn’t verbalize it, but…seeing beauty in images of themself. The same beauty they saw all around them…it made them see themself in a way they never had before.

•And of course, it made them fall even deeper in love with you, the one who cared for them so much that they took the time to look so deeply.

Heavy

•Heavy is a very intelligent man, but he’s never had much gift for creative work. Even his insults were kind of just the same thing repeated, when the other mercs made it an art form.

•So he couldn’t help but be enraptured by your artistic endeavors and how much work you put into them.

•He loved to see you covered in your medium of choice, your passion for it. Made him lovesick. How lovely you were doing what you loved.

•If he could paint, he would have wanted to paint that. So he could look at it forever.

•So of course, imagine his delight when you decided to draw him!

• That roaring laugh you so enjoyed boomed immediately, just elated.

•“Ohhhh…look at that! You captured me perfectly! Beautiful!” You couldn’t help but beam with pride.

•“Can Heavy keep this?” “Of course you can, hon.” This warranted a sudden barrage of kisses to your face, which cracked you up of course.

•“Very happy to have such talented artist as yourself to love. But to me? You are most beautiful. In all the world.” Despite being more eloquent in his native language, Heavy could still get you to turn red. “Oh gosh…” “Is true!”

Demoman

•Tavish had always been a pretty sentimental fellow. He really did enjoy artwork, but didn’t talk about it much.

•Once he discovered that you were an artist, he was over the moon. Finally, he felt, he could talk to someone about art without them possibly poking fun.

•He’d never go in your sketchbook unless you allowed him to, but he always looked with such admiration in his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. So long as ya luv it, never stop doin’ this. Cuz I’ll never stop lookin.”

•One day, you told him you had a surprise for it. “I dunno if I like surprises…” “Oh trust me, Demo,” you chirped, “I think you’ll like this one.”

•As you held up the finished product, his mouth went agape. Almost instantly, he began to smile.

•“Well aren’t you just the sweetest!! That’s me there???” “Yes, love. I uh, I hope that you like it.” His gaze shifted over to you, and you could see his eye had grown somewhat misty.

•Demo was at a loss for words. He had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, certainly not good enough to be drawn. And yet. You had drawn him. Drawn him very well. And he liked how he looked. Was that how you saw him?

•“Aw, Tav…you okay??” He blinked quick, trying to keep composed.“Never better…c’mere, you…”

•Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a kiss, just about taking your breath away.

•“My little artist…ya made me look so good.” You caught him rubbing his eye a bit. “I just drew what I saw.” “Well, ya see a work of art in me. And that? That’s the best surprise of all.”

Engineer

•With how much designing went into his machines, Dell could always appreciate the skills of an artist. So when he learned that you were one, well, that only sweetened an already sweet deal.

•You were a little self-conscious at first about him watching you work. You tended to just work parallel to one another, both lost in your own stuff.

•You’d sometimes stop what you were doing to follow his hands as he put the pieces together, fingers wandering as they looked for the correct tool.

•When the inverse happened though—when Engie watched you work—he admired your spontaneity. You could start off with a total wild card and somehow managed to pull it all together and make it work, in a way he never could have come up with.

•Being rather rigid in his own trade, that was something Dell couldn’t help but be dazzled by. Very smart man for sure, but rather by-the-book. Not like you. He saw genius in the way your mind worked.

•So, one day, as the two of you perused each other’s handiwork a bit, you shyly revealed the piece you’d made of him—hard at work on an updated sentry model.

•His lips parted a little like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.

•“I know it’s a little rocky…I’m not the best at drawing machinery.” Gently, he took ahold of the sketchbook and gave it a soft tug, nonverbally asking for permission to hold it. You let him.

•As he looked closer, a warm smile crept across his face. “Well, well…wouldja look at that. That’s me alright.” He chuckled heartily, but you realized it was from admiration, not amusement.

•“Look at you, (Y/N)! Saw me all covered in dirt an’ said ‘yeah, I can make art from that’. I love it…shucks, darlin’, I can hardly get my eyes off of it.”

•He looked back at you, still all aglow, only to find you blushing to the point of near luminescence. “Aw, c’mon now honey…no need to be all shy. You’re incredible, ya know that?”

•An arm slunk around your shoulders, pulling you fast to his side, quickly pecking the top of your head. “I love it, and I love you.”

Soldier

•Soldier was a brave man, that he was confident in. But even he was self-aware enough to realize he wasn’t the sharpest.

•Anything he’d ever drawn looked like kids’ stuff, so to see what you could make? It blew his mind.

•Jane tried not to stare while you drew—you’d gotten all nervous when you’d caught him, and he was trying to be courteous—but he couldn’t deny how it captivated him.

•“Whatcha workin’ on now?” “I’m drawing those two goofs.” You motioned to the Spy and Scout bickering as they often did. “Why them, of all things?” “I just like capturing the moment sometimes.”

•One day, as you sat while he drilled the rest of the team, you started to do just that. You found it hard not to chuckle just a little as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.

•Sure, you got their annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be pulled in by Jane’s excitement and hot-bloodedness.

•“Seemed pretty lost in your work there, or I woulda asked you to join in.” A strong hand ruffling your hair snapped you out of your daze. “Capturing the moment again?”

•“Uh-huh. I think this is my best one yet.” You turned the book around to show him, and you saw his lips part slightly in surprise before he suddenly laughed. “Haha! Look at that! It’s me!”

•You laughed with him, just happy to see him so tickled by it. “I think I really captured you.” “I’d say so, kid! I’d say so…wow.” The amusement gave way to what you realized was…almost awe.

•“I look…strong. Proud.” “Yep.” “…I look good.” “Of course you do.” He nudged his helmet down a bit with his hand, chuckling to himself. From what little bit of his face you saw…was he blushing?

•Imitating him playfully—it was something you two tended to do, he found it cute—you joked, in your best impression of him, “‘Are you going soft on me, maggot??? You’re red as a tomato!’” “Noooo…oh, (Y/N), what am I gonna do with you?”

•He caught the side of your face softly and pecked you on the cheek. “But…really. Thank you, sweetheart. I think that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”

Sniper

•Truthfully, Mick had never given a lot of thought to the arts before he’d met you. What really caught his eye was the amount of time you put into it.

•Sniper knew better than anyone that holding still, completely focused on your task, being all but absorbed in it…that was respectable.

•The fact that he could leave for work and come back to find you in the same spot? It was just very attractive to him.

•You stopped by to watch him sometimes, very discreetly, on less busy days, although he wouldn’t lie, it got him nervous. He trusted in his own skills plenty, but…you weren’t just anyone. He couldn’t have you getting hurt.

•So one day, as he finally wrapped up, he saw you, still hard at work. He didn’t want to interrupt you, but if it was time to go, he wanted to go. Giving you a light pat on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Almost done there, darlin? Quittin’ time.”

•“Just a bit more…there. Perfect. Check it out.” You held up what you’d been working on: a full sketch of him invested in his own work.

•It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slightly slack-jawed, he looked up at you, the faintest trace of a smile.

•“Never considered myself the modelin’ type, ‘specially not out here, but…wow. Ya really did it. And I look bloody good, too!” “Well duh!” “Oh, stop—” Oh, that got him. The Aussie was surprisingly easy to fluster once he’d fully grown comfortable, and you loved it.

•“Awww, are you blushing?” “Just a little…now c’mon.” Taking your hand, he helped you up, quickly hugging you around the shoulders, catching you somewhat off-guard.

•“But really. Great job there. Thanks…it’s an honor, ya know that? To be drawn by you?” “Gosh—” “Heh, now you’re the one goin’ all red.” “Oh, stop—”

Medic

•The good(?) doctor first learned of your artistic prowess when he caught you trying to draw the charts he had on his wall. “Ooh! Very impressive.”

•Medic could do a lot of things, but drawing wasn’t really one of them. He couldn’t resist watching you work, even though he knew it was a bit touchy.

•“Poetry in motion, Liebe. Really.” Simp. “Oh, come on—” “I mean it! You have such precision, such grace…it’s a sight to behold!”

•So of course, when you were working on something that you absolutely would not let him look at, he wanted to see even more.

•“I promise that whatever it is, I will find it as beautiful as you!” “It’s not that, silly—it’s supposed to be a surprise!” He seemed almost sulky about it…it was kind of cute, although you did feel a bit bad.

•Eventually though, it was done—him, with Archimedes on his shoulder. “Okay, honey, you can look now.”

•One hand comes up over his mouth, audibly gasping. “Is that…? It is!!! Haha!”

•You had never seen him this happy, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, (Y/N)! Look at that…and Archimedes too!”

•Perhaps unsurprisingly, he brings the bird out to show him too. It’s hard to gauge the response from a dove, but the tranquil cooing seems to suggest that he enjoys it.

•The doctor catches you off-guard as he sweeps you into a kiss. “Oh…danke, Schatz (treasure). May I keep this?” “Of course~”

•Best believe this man is showing your art off to EVERYONE who he treats, going on and on about what an incredible artist and person you are.

Spy

•This guy is a man of culture, he can appreciate good art. And good artists, wink.

•But in all seriousness, your attention to detail was incredibly attractive to him. After you’d been together for a while, the two of you would sit in his smoking room and relax together once the work day was over.

•Sometimes he’d be off to the side just doing his own thing, reading, but other times he’d actually sit beside you and watch. There was an intimacy to it, one you took time to grow fully comfortable with, but he was patient.

•So when you were very secretive one night, it caught his attention. Nothing slipped past him—not even you. You sensed him behind you surprisingly quickly though, and quickly closed the project up.

•“Shy tonight, are we? So unlike you, mon bijou (my jewel)…” “Hehe…be patient, babe, it’s not done yet.”

•His arms wrapped around you from behind briefly…gosh, it was difficult to keep anything secret from this man. “Very well. Keep your secrets…for now.”

•But he respected that you didn’t want him to see it just yet, and so he waited.

•“…Okay, you can look now.” In an instant, he was behind you again. It was hard to even look up at the guy right now, but once you did…there was this sense of wonder in his face that you hadn’t seen before.

•It wasn’t often that Spy looked at himself unmasked for longer than a few seconds—he’d almost forgotten his own face by now. For spies, he reasoned, it was better that way. But the way you had captured every detail of him…

•“Oh, what a handsome devil…wonder who that could be…” Was he trying to brush off his own flustering? Maybe a little.

•You couldn’t help but giggle as he almost hurriedly sat down next to you, quickly drawing you in close as he continued to look. Almost entranced.

•That element of intimacy I mentioned before? It was his turn to feel it now. Not even in a physical way, which is what this Casanova is so used to.

•No, the fact that you had clearly just…looked at his face, so intently. There was something raw and vulnerable to it. And as much as he wanted to look at it even more, his eyes were magnetically drawn to you.

•“I wouldn’t have ever asked it of you, but…I always wondered what it would look like if you drew me. I…”

•Glancing back down, he found that he couldn’t even come up with anything to say. The act of love had rendered him speechless. YOU BROKE HIM OH MY GOSH/j

•“…Do you like it?” Before you could say anything else, you were swiftly kissed, and I mean kissed.

•Spy always looked at you with a sort of passion, but this was different. He had never felt so much love for someone. Felt like a young, hopeless romantic boy all over again.

•“I adore it…and most of all, I adore you, mon cœur (my heart).”

AAAAND IM DONE. WHEW. That was fun!

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obscurechris · 4 months

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fuck you numb - chris sturniolo

bsf chris sturniolo x bsf fem reader

in which chris surprises his best friend after waiting for him to come back from his trip, and their phone call gets her sexually frustrated

cw: smut, phone sex, soft dom chris, praise, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie

———————————————————————

two hours until he gets off the plane, two hours too long. after sending a risky mirror pic in the bathroom before boarding the plane, i had not been able to get him out of my mind. it’s been too long without feeling his gentle touch on my body, or his rough marks on my skin, and i’m impatient. i hate when he leaves me sexually frustrated, knowing i can’t do anything until he comes home in who knows how long. i can’t make myself feel good the way he can, and that’s what makes my blood boil. i pick up my phone and press on his contact, the phone only ringing twice before he answers.

“hey, baby. what’s up?” his gruff voice comes through, making my heart skip a beat.

“where are you? were you just sleeping?” my voice comes off a bit heavy, still feeling an ache in my core from his teasing earlier.

“stuck in an airport in fort lauderdale, plane’s delayed. i fell asleep on matt’s shoulder,” he lightly chuckles.

“are you fucking kidding? i have to wait longer like this, without you here to fix the problem?” my voice slightly raises.

“what are you saying?” his voice remains groggy and calm.

“don’t act like you don’t know. don’t act like you didn’t text me the hottest picture of you to fuck with me. you know how much of a tease you are. you know that type of shit has me clenching my thighs craving you every time. you have a problem to fix.”

“is that so?” his voice is drenched in amusement.

“it’s not funny, chris.”

“oh yeah?” his chuckle lets me know he’s not done teasing me. “you miss me, huh? you miss the way my hands squeeze your ass? the way my fingers trace your skin?”

i think back to the photo, the way his hand gripped his phone, and the other wrapped around his hard dick in the wide open. a knot begins to form at my stomach, twisting a weird aching feeling through it.

“chris-”

“yeah, you like that? you like how i kiss your neck and leave marks for everyone to see? how my thumb rubs your clit while i pound into you?”

i choke up on his words, my breathing stuttering for a second, and i can tell he heard by the sound of him exhaling a laugh through his nose.

“can’t forget about how i fuck your throat so good you want more? how i stretch you out so good you can’t have more?”

i clench my thighs together and my head tilts back. i can’t help but bite my lip at the thoughts running through my head.

“stop- please…” i breathily beg, heat beginning to radiate from between my legs.

“i can’t wait to come home and show you how much i’ve been missing you, how much i’ve missed the way you feel.”

“fuck, i can’t wait any longer. when are you gonna be here? i need you inside of me right now, it literally hurts waiting for you,” i practically whine and he mumbles a subtle curse beneath his breath.

“you don’t have to wait.”

“what do you mean?”

“turn around.”

i get down from the kitchen counter and do as i’m told in confusion, the sight of the boy in front of me making my knees weak. i run into his open arms and immediately go in for a kiss, to which he deepens without wasting any time. he starts walking me backwards toward my room, him tugging my shirt in signal to discard it. our clothes are then scattered across the floor as we’re left completely naked, still making it to my room door. he slides his hands down my ass, and i take that as an order to jump. he holds me by the bottom of my thighs and carries me to the foot of my bed, where he hugs his arms around me tight, letting my legs wrap around his hips while he sets me down against the mattress.

he hovers over me and i bite my lip to try to hold back a smile, but fail resulting in my finger wrapping around his chain to pull his lips closer to mine to hide my blushed cheeks. once our lips touch, he sucks onto my lip and doesn’t think twice about letting go. his hand reaches down to his erect length and positions it to my wet entrance, the sudden feeling on my opening giving me goosebumps. he brushes his tip back and forth over my clit, spreading my juices before pushing his hips forward slowly, letting his tip inch in. the slickness of my pussy allows his dick to easily slide in, and the feeling of it completely filling me up causes throaty groans to emanate through the thick air.

chris pulls his face back as he stands tall, the warmth of his lips leaving but the wetness remaining, and i can only focus on the pressure of his dick stretching my walls. his hands find a grip on my hips, lifting them slightly to have better leverage as he begins his soft thrusts. the lines of his stomach show once his body moves back and forth, along with the veins in his arms creating a shadow as they form. his slow thrusts gradually speed up, his dick hurting with the amount of time he's been waiting, the amount of teasing i have done. i feel him shiver, though it isn't visible.

"you're so tight, you feel so good," his raspy voice sounds out.

i bite my lip while he dips his head down, placing kisses on the valley of my chest. my hands nestle in his hair and comb through the thick, dark strands. he trails his way up my chest, kissing along my collarbone and shoulder. i ache for more and roll my hips in slight circles to get him going. his hands run down my arms, pinning my hands down onto the bed as he intertwines our fingers together and thrusts sharply. his hands squeeze mine as the speed of his thrusts quicken exponentially.

my insides are aching badly, his tip hitting the right spots and making me crave more. i almost feel numb with the feeling of his tip stimulating my g-spot, my insides feeling hot from the friction. his hands go back to my hips, his thumbs digging into each point of my pelvis as he lets his head fall back and a deep moan come through. he lifts one of my legs up and over his shoulder, driving his dick impossibly deeper. i feel him against my cervix, the bend of the hard muscle sending shockwaves through my body as the pleasure intensifies.

"fuckkk," chris drags out his exclamations, groaning at the sensation i’m allowing him to feel. “so wet for me.”

i look down at the scene with my jaw hung open, watching how his dick, shiny with all of my juices, pushes and pulls in and out of my pussy, being suctioned in the more he thrusts. his fingertips sink deeper into my thighs as his pace becomes quicker and more rough, his hips beginning to slam into my skin. i can note each and every vein of his dick against the walls of my sensitive pussy—my legs curling closer—to which he then spreads my thighs further apart and drills into my leaking entrance like a motor.

the loud claps of chris's body colliding with mine fill the room and his hair and chain dangle, moving back and forth with his rough motions. my moans crowd his eardrums, his eyes squeezing shut at the sound. sweat starts to form all over his body, droplets threatening to fall. the tips of his bangs stick to his forehead and his eye bags are darkened.

"oh my god, i'm bouta cum," he breathlessly reminds me, his face twisted.

his breathing is heavy and his movements become choppy, his pounding faltering with his rising orgasm. his face remains pleasured, his eyebrows knitted together with his eyes closed, and his jaw hung ajar. the sexual fulfillment he's been receiving causes him to look as though he is in pain, and my stomach forms a pit at the sight, ready to burst at any given moment. chris's dick begins to throb, feeling hot and causing me to clench around him.

“such a good girl, taking me so well. keep it up baby, i know you’re almost there.” his face is close to mine, his breath fanning out against my chin as he almost whispers.

with those words, a feeling of pure euphoria washes through me and i claw at his slick back, my dull nails digging into his hot skin. my jaw widens slightly to respond, but no words come out as i’m incapable of even making a sound. my hips involuntarily flick up as i ride out my high, my legs propping up to help with my movements. his hands hook back around my upper thighs, pulling me closer with each pounding thrust.

his head falls forward, burying into the crook of my neck and leaving messy, open-mouthed kisses against my sensitive skin. i moan and let my head sink further into the pillow. with a few more clenches and my overstimulated pussy ready to give out, his dick jerks and a rushed moan exits his lips. his face comes back up close to mine and a hand finds its way around my throat, where it grips lightly. i let out a high pitched moan at his action, my teeth digging into my bottom lip.

“atta girl,” he smirks before his eyes squeeze shut one more time.

his fingertips dig into my skin as he leans his forehead against mine, his load shooting in warm spurts and his hips harshly thrust a few more times, fucking his cum deeper into me. he becomes still as his high crashes and pulls his thick cock out slowly, us both hissing at the sensation. i’m left feeling empty without the pressure of his dick on my walls and his cum flowing out of my entrance.

a subtle smirk creeps upon his fucked out expression, his eyes heavy and attractive while his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek. our breathing is rapid, my jaw hung ajar as i try to catch my breath. i look at him through my eyelashes, his expression so insanely hot in the moment. his thumb dips down to my opening, pushing some of his fluid back into my hole. with the way his hair is sticking out in each and every direction, sweat dripping down his face, the rings around his eyes dark and his lips plump and swollen, all i can think of is the unimaginable things i want to do to him in return.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris smut #smut

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art · 2 years

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Creator Spotlight: @tinypaint

My name is Michelle Fus. I’m a Jewish, non-binary artist. I graduated from the School of Visual Arts for Computer Art and Animation in 2011. I’ve interned at Pixar and worked for a few years at Dreamworks Animation. Over the past ten years, I’ve self-published two books and have run three successful Kickstarters. I now work with Skybound (The Walking Dead, Invincible) in developing my webcomic, Ava’s Demon, as a physical book series for stores. I like hiking, cultivating plants, caring for my cats, and hanging out with my beautiful husband. You can read my webcomic at avasdemon.com.

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Ava's Demon?

I’ve always been into art since I was very young. I started to gravitate towards it in first grade, where we were required to keep a daily journal. I found myself drawing in it more than actually keeping entries. From there, I got more and more interested in honing my skills as an artist. I started making my own comics for fun. I signed up for classes outside of school and put together a portfolio for the School of Visual Arts, where I majored in Computer Art and Animation. After getting my first job in the field, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. After working my day job, I would come home and work towards building a career in comics for myself by creating and uploading my webcomic, Ava’s Demon.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Looking things up to learn more before I make art or write. For instance, how many livable planets are in a Galaxy? What does a black hole actually look like, and can it give off light? How long would it actually take to travel through space if you had the fastest ship possible? I look up all of these things and then ignore most of them for the sake of writing a fun story and making fun art.

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It depends on the feeling I want to convey. Sometimes I’ll work for a whole week on a drawing and then delete it because I just don’t feel good about it. Other times I’ll make something in a day that I absolutely love from beginning to end. Some drawings I never delete nor finish, and instead, the files just kind of sit in a folder. The time it takes varies a lot.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I really love good stories. So movies and books with captivating stories usually motivate and inspire me; stories that stay with you permanently, with twists and turns that you can’t stop thinking about. I also love finding characters whose struggles I can deeply relate to. I try to hold onto those feelings and emulate them through my art.

What is the hardest part of your process?

Actually finishing a drawing. The anxiety of it piles on me sometimes. I’ll work for a while on a drawing and constantly ask myself, “Is this drawing really finished? What terrible things about it am I not seeing?”. My desire to avoid making something terrible can sometimes put me in a mental prison where I keep chipping away at a drawing until I no longer know what I am looking at.

What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?

In general, I like letting young artists in middle school, and high school know that I wasn’t very good at art at their age (I really wasn’t, I didn’t have the same resources they have now, and I didn’t have any perspective on what it takes to have a career in art, it’s a different world). Kids have come to me at conventions with their work for critique and advice, and I have to tell them that they’re already miles ahead of what I could make at their age. I have to tell them that it’s okay if they can’t make what all the professionals make online, to know that they have SO much time ahead of them to work at what they love. If you love making art, do it often, study art throughout history, and over time you’ll be able to create everything your heart desires.

What is something other people find hard to draw that you find enjoyable?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels like drawing anything is suffering, even if you like what you’re making.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@loish has been consistently inspiring me since my days in high school. Every new painting has so much grace and power and is so excellent to look at. Her skill in shape and form seems limitless, and I hope to someday achieve even a small fraction of her understanding of art. Seeing her new work on my timeline also makes my dopamine spike, so I’m always looking forward to updates from her.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @tinypaint and follow their webcomic, Ava’s Demon, over at avasdemon.com.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #webcomics #michelle fus #ava's demon

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ghostmaldo · 3 months

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(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾Demon Slayer Headcannons: Will you hold this for me? (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

In which (Y/n) asks them to hold something and then proceeds to place their hand into their S/O ^^. I read this prompt yeeears ago for ffxv and I just thought it was the cutest thing and I’ve never seen it again after that. So heres what I think the demon slayers characters reactions would be. Can be read and friendly or platonic.

With: Rengoku, Giyuu Tengen+Makio,Suma,And Hina, Shinobu,Sanemi and Gyomei

No warnings, full fluff. We’re goanna ignore cannon for the sake of the imagine. Except for Obanai and Mitsuri, I very much love their relationship and have chosen to not write about them. Kay? Kay!

I’ll do a part 2 with the demon moons + Muzan because this took waaaay to long to do wah-

Ask box open 💙

Playlist I listened to while I wrote this: https://youtu.be/bPzqW_dU2Gk?si=jLI9L0vgH0Q3VYT7

youtube

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Rengoku: Rengoku and (Y/N) were out and about in the nearest village. Visiting several different shops during their free time while they could enjoy it. Currently, Rengoku eyes were glued to a menu displayed outside a newly built restaurant. Completely enraptured by the tasteful dishes displayed on the board. (Y/N) approached behind him, a small shopping back in one of their hands. Maybe if Rengoku hadn’t been so distracted, they might have seen the playfulness pulling on their lips.

“Rengoku, will you hold something for me?”

Oblivious to the gleeful child-like smile on their face, he offered them their hand without even so much as blinking or moving his eyes away from the menu. His mind a preoccupied about the different variations of food that made his stomach grumble. Though those thoughts were briefly pushed to the back of his mind when he felt something warm slot between his fingers.

“Hmm?” Rengoku hummed, blinking a few times as he shifted his gaze over to his hand. We’re he found (Y/n) hand comfortably placed into his. “Haha!” He boasted loudly, smile growing twice as large as it already was. “A delightful one you are! Say it’s about lunch time. Shall we try this new restaurant, everything sounds so wonderful!” He exclaimed. Raising his hands while still clasping (Y/N) hand snug with his. If Rengoku had a tail it would most certainly be wagging right.

Overall: Rengoku’s find your antic amusing and most welcomed. He happily pulls (Y/N) into the restaurant hand in hand. Only letting go once they’ve settled down for a meal.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Giyuu: A similar situation to Rengoku, with the two wondering around a village mostly just for fun. However, its hard to tell exactly what Giyuu had his gaze fixated upon. His frozen solid in the middle of the crowd with a ten mile stare between two booths. His ocean eyes were somewhere lost in a unforeseen storm. People moved around the silent man, pardoning themselves if they ran into him on accident.

It took some time for (Y/N) to locate him after they’d gone to retrieve an item of interest. A shopping bag swinging with the rhythm of their legs while they waved a cheerful greeting. One that went ignored, though it wasn’t on purpose. They were about to call to Giyuu again when the words died in their throat. A mischievous glaze running over their eyes.

“Giyyyuuu, will you hold something for me?” This time, the question stuck to Giyuu. He turned their head slowly upon them. His eyes immediately pointing to the bag in their hand. He exhaled a gentle breath, extending his hand out for what he thought would be the bag in his hand. He jolted a bit when he instead sensed the familiar warmth of (Y/N) palm along his. He became at a lost of words, unsure what to make of this situation.

(Y/n) let out a light chuckle at his reaction. ‘Typical Giyuu’, they thought. Eventually they’ll tug them forward in the direction they want to go next. Though Giyuu still hasn’t said anything, nor had he pulled away. If (Y/n) attempts to let go of his hand, unsure if the action was welcomed. Giyuu will simply tighten his hold on them. “It’s fine.” He speaks blatantly, though if (Y/n) looks close enough… theres a light dust of pink on his cheeks.

Overall: A little embarrassed at first, but accepts his fate and will continue to hold (Y/n) unless something requires for him to let go permanently.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tengen: Well first off you need a step ladder- Kidding, short of, anyway! (Y/N), Tengen and his three wives are out enjoying a late night festival. Theres good food, drinks, and fireworks to occupy them for the night. (Y/n) sits with Makio, Suma, and Hina snacking on some sort of festival foods. They’ve shared this little ‘idea’ with the girls and the three of them found the idea delightful. Gossiping among themselves if Tengen would become flustered by the idea and mostly by who.

“I think (Y/N) should do it! Master Tengen has had a soft spot for them lately!” Makio pokes a little fun at them, the other two girls chiming in with eager smiles and some harmless laughter. It does take some convincing, but eventually (Y/N) does surrender to the girls persuasion. And just in time for Tengen to rejoin the group. (Y/n) nearly leaps to their feet, running over to him exicdently. The three girls watch gleefully at the show they’re about to recieve.

“Tengen! I need you to hold something for me!” He quirks a brow, eyeing them up and down suspiciously. “You aren’t holding anything.” He replied with a playful smirk on his lips. “Just trust me! Pleeease?” They flash their puppy dog eyes at him and Tengen finds himself in a bind. How was he supposed to fight against puppy dog eyes?

Cautiously he holds out his hand. Jewelry catching the warm light bouncing off the cities lanterns. Nervously, (Y/) places their hand into Tengen massive palm. His fingers wrap around theirs and nearly swallows them up whole. Looking back at him, he smiled smuggly. “Is that all you wanted? You could have just asked!”

Que the girls squealing lovingly in the back ground and them ambushing everyone into a hug and wanting to take turns holding Tengen and (Y/N) hands~

Overall: Well, its seems Tengen made (Y/N) blush instead of the other way around. But its was still worth the shot and the girls thought it was absolutely adorable ^^

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shinobu: It’s a busy day at the butterfly estate. A particular mission had sent back several members of the demon slayer members back to her abode with blooded limbs. Once taking care of the injured slayers, she sat neck deep in paperwork inside her office. Going over several discharge papers and other things she’d fallen behind on. The scratching of her pen was the only sound in the room aside from the occasional curse escaping her lips.

(Y/N) walked in with a cup of warm tea in hand. Knowing very well Shinobu needed a little break from the chaos that had been their shared morning. They knew it would be impossible to pull her away from her work, not when so many still needed attending too. Still… they had a small shroud of an idea that may pull Shinobu from her thoughts for even just a few minutes. The poor girl deserved that much.

“Shinobu.” They called out kindly. Setting the cup of tea on the table next to her. Her movement faltered for second, her keen eyes shifting to the cup of tea, then directly back to her paper work. “Yes (Y/N)?” She responded nearly all too sweetly for what she really felt on the inside. “I- I made you some tea.”

“I see that.” She cut through them quickly, though they knew she didn’t mean malice by it. Now or never-

“Will you hold something for me, Shinobu?” Her pen movements halted all together, a long breath escaping through her nostrils. In a swift motion she set her pen on the desk calmly. Turning her attention toward them and extending her hand out toward them. ‘Tread carefully (Y/N)!’ They told themselves to try and gain some confidence back from her cry reaction.

Before they lost their nerve, (Y/N) quickly placed their hand into hers. Snuggly wrapping her fingers around Shinobu’s hand. This seemed to take her back a moment, her eyes flickering back at forth between their face and their now intertwined hands. She sighed, her shoulders dropping in surrender. “Alright, alright, only a few minutes. Then I must complete these discharges.” She spoke firmly, but an inkling of a smile danced at the corner of her lips. (Y/N) agreed eagerly, happily keeping a hold of Shinobu’s hand while she sipped on her warm tea.

Overall: A smidge annoyed, but appreciates the effort. Might bring it up later in private conversation. Personally I think she’d have the softest hands of the bunch.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sanemi: I had to really think about this one and his probably a little ooc but I still did my best- Lo and behold, Sanemis is practically stomping through the compound clearly aggravated about something. When isn’t he- (Y/N) catches him out of the corner of their eye and quickly excuses themselves from their current conversation. They’re fully aware Sanemi’s in a sour mood. Even so, it didn’t deter them from their destination. The moment (Y/N) was in Sanemi’s line of sight, a low growl vibrated from him. “What do you want?”He snapped immediately.

(Y/N) gave a shy wave and greeting. Wondering in the back of their mind if this was a really good idea-

“Would you hold something for me?”

“Huh?” He brow raised and his mouth hung open.

“I-I said would you please hold something for me?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. They stood their looking at each other for a few second before he reluctantly stuck out his hand. “I swear if you put something wet in my hand-“

A blush instantly blossoms on the man’s face when they slip their hand into his. He allowed it at first, even as the heat creeps onto his face. However, once he realizes whats happening he retracts his hand and turns away from them. Hiding his crimson cheeks. “Idiot, what was that for!”He screamed and (Y/n) can’t help themselves but go into a giggling fit.

Overall: Highly annoyed and flustered at the same time Xp

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Gyomei: It’s a peaceful morning with Gyomei. Sitting on the mountain side with the river lulling the birds nearby. They sat together along the tree’s, basking in the tranquility. It was often the pair found themselves like this. Seeking the moments where the world seemed to stand still. One craved those moments when a world such as theirs existed with nothing but constant violence.

Which was why (Y/N) had come up with the idea they were about to execute. They redirected their gaze to the man sitting a few feet away from them, admiring the features of his face and how he sat in prayer. Though, the second their eyes landed on him, his head perked up to look at them. “Gyomei, will you hold something for me?”

His expression never moved, yet, he nodded, slowly extending his large muscular hand toward them. The beads on his hand softly clanking against one another in the process. Their hand (Much like Tengen) was completely swallowed by his large hand. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what he was holding. The pad of his thumb running alongside (Y/N) cold knuckles.

“Oh.” The word was barely auditable and seemingly the only comment Gyomei came up with. They were almost worried they’d crossed a boundary… then the tears began to cascade over hid face. “How sweet. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Overall: Now your both crying

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month

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The ballad of Jane doe has me in a choke hold. The lyrics really feel to me and I had an idea of an alternative universe where Jason as Robin and beheaded by Joker as a way to avoid irl identification? Idk he’s insane.

But the lyrics that really spoke to me were: Oh Saint Peter, let me in!

You must know where I've been

Won't you tell me at last who I am?

(This can be either Jason revived and never getting his memories back and asking maybe maybe Danny someone who is kinda his minder who he is but Danny never knew him so he can’t say or Batman in a desperate but frustrated way when he’s all vigilante and stuff while fight and takes off his helmet for dramatic effect and maybe Jason never aged and still 15 or he just doesn’t have a head so Danny made one of ecto that is supposed to look like him)

And I'm asking "why, lord?"

If this is how I die, lord

Why be left with no family

And no friends?

(Jason never having his memories cries out for any information but maybe someone is blocking his search or some other factor, Jason not having any memories mourns the thought of family and maybe in a fight he’s yelling angrily about the unfairness of his situation and having no one, maybe even a vent to Danny if slimmed him spinned right)

I’ve got no celebration

Just this consolation

Time eats all his children

In the end

(Jason not remembering his funeral and his only consolation is his missing head or a scar on his neck from the beheading and this can also relate to clockwork and you know the Kronos correlation, how time has no favorites and everyone will be forgotten just like him in the end of their days wether it be their death or the last time their name is said)

A melody floats through the air

When silence falls, does no one care?

(frustration of no one telling him who he is and and maybe there will be a fight scene where he takes off his helmet and asks if anyone- anything cares about his existence in front of Bruce or the batfam)

how Danny plays into his either this is alternate Jason and Danny being one person and Danny being in an accident which kills him half not and half did or Danny is dead Jason’s minder and they get teleported to another universe where canon is idk :)

I'm not going to lie. This song goes hard for Headless Jason.

I like what you wrote about this being Danny as his alt! Jason, but I also like the idea that Jason's family are descendants of the original Dullahan. He just didn't know it since he didn't know his bio mom.

Anyway, the family gets one extra life, which his bio-mom used up before, and that's why she died in the explosion that took Jason's first life. He wanders Gotham the first year as a zombie because he doesn't have his head until Danny finds it and helps reunite him.

But that year, Jason forgot who he was, and he was filled with nothing but questions and anger. Danny decided to be the bridge between worlds and stuck around to help him. Instead of Jason ending up with the League of Shadows, he is in Ghost King Phantom's court and is living in a small house on the outskirts of Gotham, trying to learn his new ghost powers.

Danny is super excited since this is the closest he's gotten to another Halfa since Vlad, and yeah, it's a little scary that they can't get his head to stick on his body since they've been apart for too long, but Danny is working on it.

In the meantime, they have Jason wear a red Biker helmet that he never takes off. Nothing can go wrong with that! The fact that Joker used to do the same thing as Red Hood meant nothing to Danny and his roommate, who enjoyed gardening, cooking dinner, and sitting together to watch a movie!

The occasional cuddle here and there! Slight domestic bliss sprinkled in!

No, Jazz, that isn't his undead boyfriend. That's just his roommate! So what if they are the same age? Danny is technically hiding from his parents, so he never ventures too far from his property!

Jason likes being in the boonies with him just fine.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #dead on main #dullahan is my roommate Au #I had fun with this and rolled with it #Part 1???#May write this later #i know the song is a lot sadder but I like fluff more #Danny found his head in his garden one day #It just appeared #He is hald dead so he thought it would be polite to return it

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denofbloodandlove · 1 year

Text

First Timer

Mandi looked at the store like some giant looming beast that she had to battle, never had she been to a sex shop and for good reason. The moment she even thought about sex her face flamed with heat, she was technically embarrassed. Not because of the act of sex, but because of what she enjoyed watching. Being only 21 and still a stupid virgin she had, one night, fell down a rabbit hole of aliens, tentacles, and ovipositors. They only person in the whole world that knew was her best friend JJ, who was as gay and happy as a bag of sunshine and rainbows but also the biggest slut that Mandi knew. He was the reason they were here at a place called OtherWorlds, a boutique for the weird and unusual. But according to the website that JJ found, totally normal for people like her. People who enjoyed the idea of monsters, suckers and knots filling up their bodies. JJ had wanted Mandi to be herself so, like a great best friend searched the world wide web and found this little nugget. Forced her in the car and drove the three hours it took to show up. “For fucks sake Mandi, walk in, it’s a sex shop not a fucking scorpion. Which, by the by, I think they have dildos that resemble the tail. Lets go!” JJ pushed Mandi over the curb and straight at the door. The tiny bell jingled as the door opened and Mandi stood frozen at the sight. JJ however ran right in and began looking. “Come on Mandi! It’s time you experiment!” He giggled as he held up a huge wiggly horse cock. Covering her face with her hands, Mandi shuffled her way towards JJ. “Would you stop that!” She whispered as JJ started to flick his wrist, making the soft cock go round in circles. “I think I need one of these for me girlie! Man this would feel great shoved in my ass!.” JJ exclaimed as a worker made their over with a grin on her face. “First time huh? We can always tell, either too shy or too excited. How can I help you guys? Looking for anything in particular?” Mandi began to shake her head, but JJ being who he was cut her off. “Yes, she needs tentacles. Ovipositors with the eggs that come with. A medium to large probably since she is……unused shall I say.” “Oh gods above JJ, really?! Tell everyone that I’ve never had sex why don’t you, jeez.” Mandi buried her face in her hands as JJ laughed, but the woman just smiled and took hold of Mandi. “I have the perfect stuff, come on. Most people come in here like this, first timers, shy because of what they like but its no biggie.” As Mandi followed the lady she looked on the walls. Dildos of massive sizes were displayed, some had giant heads with long thin bodies while some were reversed, had a slender head but a massive shaft. Some were so large it looked like it would split her in half. Gulping down what she knew was excitement she kept walking. How could she be excited about her feeling like she would be getting cut in two? Another section housed more horse cocks, small ones, medium, massive ones that looked like when fully inserted it could reach her throat. Near the horse cocks, were wolves. These too were in various sizes but they had knots as the bases. Some had multiple knots throughout the shaft, going from regular at the head, knot, shaft, bigger knot, shaft, and even bigger knot. Wouldn’t a person get stuck on that? How would her cunt feel so stretched out that she would literally be stuck on a cock. Mandi felt sweat trickle down her back at the thought. “You know I can tell what you’re thinking buy the looks on your face, you don’t hide your facial expressions well. My name is Nimmie, and yes the wolf cocks do feel amazing stuck inside of you. Too big to slide out but to big to push further in. Your pussy trapped on an immovable object, trust me, its worth it. Worth the pain. The dragon cocks are much the same without the knots.” Nimmie pointed towards a display case that housed a pleothra of muticolored dildos. Some were short and fat while others had what looked like scales in different layers to add a whole new feeling as it pushed against the walls of a pussy or ass. “But these are what you’re after. Yes?” Mandi looked over her shoulder as Nimmie pointed to a blue/black wall. Her mouth popped open as she saw so many different kinds of tentacle dildos. S-curved that ended in a point, short stubby ones that had a bulbous head, each one had different sized suckers on it, mimicking a real octopus. “But, I think your friend mentioned ovis, you’re more interested in the eggs and the feeling of them inside you, right? I’ve used one, fuck it was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. But that was our old stock we got some brand new ones no one has ever tried. They look amazing. Here.” Nimmie reached down and under a self, pulling out what looked like long slender tube with a short flat head on top. It was a dark mossy green that faded into yellow at the tip. Reading the package her eyes widened at the size. Nearly nine inches in length and at the widest nearly two inches at the base. But what intrigued her more was the carton that was attached to the underside of the plastic container that held the cock. “Its eggs! Look! Turn in over, each one is in their own cum, to give you that real effect. So what you do, theres twelve by the way. So what you do is you have to place the cock on the floor and through the opening at the tip of the cock, you just insert the eggs, push them all down and have your fun. As you fuck it, see the little button, you push that and the didlo will start to undulate and push the eggs into you, all that cum and eggs filling your cunt up. When you’re done, pop off and push the eggs out, and repeat as many times as you want. The cum, its some kind of new material that doesn’t wash away, like an egg sack thing. I dunno, but I can’t wait to try it myself..” Mandi turned the package over looking it over and listening to Nimmie talk about it. Fuck, but she was wet just imagining it. She had watched a porn with this woman who had something similar. The eggs had fallen out of her swollen cunt, falling to the ground in pleasurable ‘plops’. She wondered if they would sound the same falling out of her. And could she take all twelve at once? Mandi ran her hands over the eggs, thinking about where she could place it and fuck it. That was the moment JJ ran up to her, his arms filled with lube and cocks. “Get me outta here girlie before I go broke. You found something?” Nodding her head, she hid the ovi behind her and together they walked to the register. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “I know you got that egg thing girlie, call me after and tell me ALL about it! I for one am going shove these beautiful things up my ass.” JJ kissed Mandi on each cheek and left her standing at her door with the black bag in her hand. Excitement rode her. Mandi could feel her slick cunt, needy and ready to take in her first dildo. The apex of her thighs felt heavy with need yet hollow. It was like a low ache, one that was almost painful right behind her entrance. She could almost feel her own heartbeat in her pussy, each thump of her heart knocking at her tight entrance. Placing her phone down, she hit record and then began to undress. Throwing off her clothes, she knelt on the floor and positioned herself so she could watch her body take in the cock. Once everything was lined up correctly, she opened the plastic package with trembling fingers. The cock itself was soft and malleable, but at the thick base she could feel beads that would rotate upwards, she figured those were how the eggs would get pushed up and into her pussy. Next she opened the eggs. Sighing, Mandi reverently grabbed the first one. Nimmie was right, it felt as if the egg was encased in the same slime like substance a chicken egg was surrounded by. The clear like slime wiggled between her fingers as it slipped from her grip into palm after palm, her hands rotating to constantly catch it. Biting her bottom lip, Mandi held it to her face and it roll against her cheek. It felt so warm, almost as if the crate it was in kept them a certain temperature. Before she could think better of it, Mandi popped it into her mouth. The gel like casing rolled on her tongue and nearly down her throat. But the taste. It was like an aphrodisiac straight to her pussy. Juices flowed and coated her thighs as she leaned her head back and moaned, rolling the egg on her tongue and nearly down her throat. Gagging she coughed the egg up and into her hand. She’d definitely have to practice more on how to hold that in her mouth, maybe with the cock fucking her throat too. Mandi fingered the cocks opening and watched as the egg slide down and into the tube where the other 11 quickly followed. Taking a deep breath, Mandi ran her fingers through her swollen pussy, her clit was so enlarged it hurt, her fingers rubbed hard on her clit, eliciting a long low moan from her throat, then she squatted over the cock. Her back was against a wall and with wide eyes she watched herself slowly get impaled on the camera of her phone. Her tight pussy pushed against the head of the cock, opening her pushing against her maiden head. She watched in fascination as her cunt spread, allowing a foreign object to be inserted, thankfully the cock wasn’t giant at the tip, but she could feel the resistance of her flesh, pushing back, not wanting anything to push past her barrier. Her thighs burned as she lifted herself up slightly then fell back down a second time. This round pushed hard the cock breaking though and she let out a painful moan as the cock stretched her new flesh, up and down she moves, deeper and deeper her squats came as she fucked herself down nearly to the two inch base. Her pussy ached, burned as it stretched and tears welled in her eyes. It was too big! But she thought about those wolf cocks and getting stuck, widening her stance Mandi leaned back and placed her hands on the floor and moved her hips. Her pussy made sucking sounds as the cock moved in and out, deeper until she screamed in pain, fuck she wanted to get stuck, wanted this foreign cock with its eggs to seal her pussy as the eggs pumped into her. Tears gathered in her eyes as she moved her legs farther out, her knees hit the floor with a sharp thud and she sat, forcing her pussy to sit down all the way on the cock. Looking into her phone, she could see the skin stretched, her cunt swollen and red, her clit hard and ready for the slightest of touches to send her over the edge. Taking a deep breath, Mandi lifted one leg and felt her way around the base, finding that button Nimmie talked about. Pushing it down, the beads that sat at the base of the cock began to vibrate, rotate around and up. Her cunt tightened its grip and her body jerked as she rotated her hips. Fuck she could feel the eggs rising with the undulations of the beads.

“Fuck. Fuck, Fuck!” Mandi panted as her hand left the floor and slapped at her swollen clit in tandem. She felt the first egg explode from the cock and straight into her, she could feel it right against her cervix, followed by another, then another. Her hand slapped harder at her clit and as she moved she looked down at her flat belly, she watched as her skin moved, pushed out by the eggs filling her.

Her orgasm took root and she flung her head back and screamed. Pressure like never before built low in her belly as she came. Her hand never stopped slapping and rubbing her clit until it was too much and she lifted off the cock, her pussy releasing all her cum and juices in one great spasm. She watched in awe as she squirted, the eggs falling out of her one by one with a wet slimy pop. One after another she watched as she forced her pussy to push the remaining eggs out, each one slowly falling to the floor. Her pussy pulsed and her body trembled with aftershocks of the best fucking orgasm ever!

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

“I’m telling you JJ I think I lost one! I have eleven eggs nit twelve! What happens if one is still inside me? What am I going to do? Go to the doctor and say hey doc by the way I fucked an alien dong, had its fake eggs shoved inside of me and now I lost one. Can you look in my cunt and tell me what you see?”

JJ just laughed, “It probably rolled under something so stop freaking out! But look we need to go back to that store, cause girl I done used all that lube and those dildos! I’m so gaped I could fit my fist in there!” Shaking her head, she finished her conversation with JJ, thinking that he was probably right. The eggs had come out at first so fast that she lost one. Had to be.

That night Mandi lay curled on her side, her thoughts on sleep, her mind drifting off into nothingness, she felt a soft, wet squelch come from between her thighs. Moaning in her sleep, her body thrashed about, wetness soaked her pussy and sheets as her legs spread by some unseen force. Through her sleep, pain had her eyes flip open and she screamed as e cunt stretched. Her knees bent and she rose on her elbows as she looked down her body. One long thick tentacle slide from her cunt. It was the same hues as the dildo, it slid from her pussy and onto her thigh, the rings of the suction cups molding to her flesh. Scrambling away, her body spasmed as the tentacle stayed stuck inside of her womb, the one long tentacle slithered off her thigh and moved up, the tip pushing through the slit of her wet core. The pointed tip flicked her clit hard enough to shock Mandi into pure pleasure.

“Ohmagod its real. Oh fuuuck its real.” Her voice went from a high-pitched scared cadence to a low, pleasurable moan. This is what she had fantasized about the first time she watched that damn porn. Her fantasy becoming a reality. The alien inside of her wiggled growing thicker, spreading her sunt much like the dildo did, stretching her to the point of pain, sealing tight. The tip of the tentacle slide back and forth on her clit, the suction cups moving languidly over her clit, sucking and releasing each time with each suction cup. The thick base shoved deep in her began to slither in and out, fucking her until she could no longer stand it, her orgasm tore through her body. Her body bowed off the bed, every muscle seized in pleasure and her cum flowed from her pussy in great rushes around the tentacle. Her breathing labored she lifted her head to watch the tentacle move and slither back into her cunt, her lower belly becoming slightly pooched out where it rested in her womb.

Would the other eleven eggs be the same? If they stayed in her would they hatch too? How many could she keep inside of her at once? She wanted to fond out. Would it be like that porn? A tentacle for every hole? Her mouth, ass and pussy all having one at the same time? Her pussy pulsed as her cum leaked from her open slit. There was only one way to find out. Jumping out of bed, she found the ovipositor, and began to pop the remaining eggs into the cock. Her belly wiggled in anticipation as she positioned her phone once more, then sank low on the cock, hoping that the other eleven eggs would too take root inside of her womb.

#sweetmisery #monster breeding #monster fucker #monsterkink #alien kink #alien fucker #alien breeding #tentacles #ovipositor

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

[ IMPOSSIBLE ] BAKUGOU KATSUKI.

it’s quiet this morning—which is fairly odd with bakugou, considering he’s always cursing about one thing or another under his breath as he gets ready, but today it’s silent.

and it’s only silent because you refuse to talk to him, and he’s not going to talk to a wall, so he plays along. but you can tell he’s an atom bomb ticking, ready to go off any moment—and it really doesn’t take long before he lets out one last frustrated huff and takes the spatula from your hand as you make breakfast, pushing the pan off the heat before turning you to face him.

he notes that there are still two eggs on the pan instead of one (you’re angry, not rude.)

“hey, what gives—”

“i’ve had fuckin’ enough,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you, “quit bein’ mad.”

“oh,” you hum, smiling dryly as you nod, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll just stop being sad next time i’m sad too. or stop feeling tired next time i get tired.”

“y’know that’s not what i meant,” he groans, pinching his nose, “i meant ‘m sorry. so stop bein’ mad,” he tries again. it’s blunt and doesn’t really butter you up like you’d hope, but it’s him and it’s sincere.

last night is your first fight since you’ve moved in together. as in, last night is the first time you and bakugou don’t sleep on the same bed. he’s stuck on the couch for cursing at you—he always curses, but never with that tone directed towards you—and you sleep on the bed alone.

his back is aching, but that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is that he now realizes that when your body isn’t slotted next to his, he doesn’t know what to do with his arms (he settles for awkwardly crossing them over his chest), and when you don’t talk his ear off before bed, he doesn’t have the sound of your voice to lull him to sleep (he ends up tossing and turning on the couch for most of the night.)

and with this newfound information, bakugou katsuki decides he will never be sleeping on the couch again. ever. so his only solution is to fix things so you don’t send him there tonight too.

but you’re still upset, so you turn your head and huff.

“well, you shouldn’t have been so mean to me then,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms at him.

the first time you and bakugou fight, it’s at your apartment after a date. it’s the first time he raises his voice at you, the first time he’s not gentle behind the tough exterior you think is practically his second skin. and before he can make things worse, before he can ruin the first thing in his life that’s not just good or even great, but perfect, he storms out to clear his head.

he comes by the next morning with your coffee order and some breakfast before he mumbles an apology at your front doorstep. it’s awkward and gruff and a little choppy, but his voice is soft and his eyes are dim. you sigh before offering to split your breakfast and he doesn’t step a foot inside your home until you give him a kiss.

the second time you fight is in the car. you’re the one to storm out this time, slamming the door at a red light and walking off before he can even fully comprehend what’s happened. and because luck seems to never be on either of your sides, it’s raining. he finds you shivering on the park bench where you both have your first picnic, and he drapes his jacket over you as he lectures you like he’s your father about the dangers of walking off in the middle of the night while it’s raining.

because he’s equal parts annoying when he lectures, and equal parts endearing when he’s worried, you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a messy kiss, rain on your lips and a clash of teeth from the initial shock, but he melts into it instantly. he understands that night why cliche rain kisses are so romantic as he holds you in the middle of an empty park.

and he thinks no matter how many times you fight, no matter who’s mad at who, he’ll find a way to end every argument with a kiss if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

“yeah, so ‘m sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, “didn’t mean it, okay? i love you.” you can’t help but notice that the last part isn’t stiff and awkward like everything else—he says i love you delicately, like it’s a fragile thing to say, like it’s a privilege he won’t take for granted.

“well, i’m still mad,” you say stubbornly.

“then quit bein’ mad,” he furrows his brows, “my back hurts on that damn shitty couch, okay? ’s gonna hurt my performance too. i’ll have to tell the families of the people i can’t save that you’re the reason why,” he warns, and he smirks a little at the way you have to chew your bottom lip to hide the giggle you almost let slip.

“how bad does it hurt?”

“worst back pain i ever endured,” he says instantly. it’s a lie. he’s been slammed against buildings and concrete and practically given you enough heart attacks to leave you bedridden for the rest of your life—but he has to convince you somehow, even if it’s through dramatics.

you sigh, and he almost thinks he’s won—almost.

“okay, you sleep on the bed, and i’ll sleep on the couch tonight—”

“you’re so fuckin’ gullible,” he cuts you off instantly, “as if a damn couch could do anything to me. i’ll sleep there until you’re done bein’ pissy,” he grumbles.

you frown because you know him, and you know he’s just saying that. and just like that, the anger melts away and leaves behind the soft ache that only bakugou can placate. the kind of ache he placates by pretending the couch doesn’t hurt his back so it doesn’t have to hurt yours.

“katsuki—”

“i said i’ll sleep there,” he says firmly, “you’d get cold anyway. fuckin’ baby.”

“fine,” you spit, scrunching up your nose as you huff slightly, “you can sleep on the bed with me. but don’t touch.”

“i’ll stick to the couch then,” he says flatly, “the bed’s a full package deal. cuddles or nothing.”

“you are impossible,” you scoff, and he grins, chuckling lightly as his eyes stare at you amused. and he’s not perfect, a little rough around the edges with a mouth that runs before he thinks, but he loves hard and deep, enough to make you believe you’re worth sleeping on a stiff couch for with a thin blanket. enough to show up at your doorstep with your coffee and breakfast order memorized. enough to soak through the rain to hand you a jacket so you’re less cold.

“you’ll come runnin’ to me for cuddles sooner or later,” he snorts, “might as well make it sooner.”

“fine,” you cave, and because you missed him just like he missed you, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss his jaw, “i love you too. and you can join me in bed and have your stupid cuddles.”

“‘m doin’ it for you,” he has the audacity to shoot back.

“katsuki, you really are impossible,” you snort as you shake your head, and when he gives you a lopsided grin, you kiss him slow and deep and a little more in love than you were yesterday.

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki fluff

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ktgoodmorning · 2 months

Text

Useless: Part 3

Claudia Pina x reader

Part 3 (and final part) to useless

Find Part 1 and part 2 here

Masterlist

Claudia is bored due to her injury, you struggle to keep her entertained

It had now been a week since Claudia’s injury. Things had definitely started to improve since your talk a few days ago. Your girlfriend was clearly still feeling down but now it was in a way that was more expected given her injury. The focal point of her frustration was now her boredom. Unable to navigate without crutches and still advised to be resting, she was yet to leave the apartment.

Claudia was getting more and more restless by the minute. All of her favorite things involved movement- football, working out, partying with her friends, exploring with you. Your girlfriend wasn’t exactly known for being still. That’s part of what had originally drawn you to Claudia- how she was always bouncing around and full of energy. The new limitations on her were providing both a new challenge.

The second you walked in from training you were greeted by your girlfriend groaning dramatically on the couch. “Amooorrrrr,” you chuckled lightly as you made your way over to sit by her. As soon as you sat down, she laid her head across your lap, continuing her dramatics. “I’m boooorrrreeedd. Please tell me you brought me something to do,” Claudia pleaded with you even though it was clear you had come home empty handed.

“Sorry to disappoint, my love,” you ran your hand through her hair as you spoke, “just me today.” You noticed Claudia’s face change into a suggestive smirk. All you could do was blush and give her a playful eye roll, knowing that what she was hoping for wouldn’t be possible with her current lack of mobility.

“Mmm, I like seeing you blush because of me, baby,” she mumbled into your skin as she pressed a lingering kiss into your hip.

“Clau, that’s not gonna happen today and you know it.” Your girlfriend gave you another groan, this time accompanied by a major pout. All you could do was smile at your girlfriend, seeing her dimples poking through even though she was pouting at you. “But we can do anything else you want? We could watch a movie?”

“Nooo, I’ve been doing that all day,” this time she had punctuated her sentence with an equally dramatic sigh.

You tried offering your girlfriend some more suggestions, “what about a game of FIFA?” This got her attention as rarely played video games. After a few seconds of contemplation, Claudia took you up on your offer. You got it all set up and got each of you a controller as she got better settled into the couch.

The pair of you happily settled into the game. For a while she had settled on trying to help you improve your playing. You definitely couldn’t complain about how your girlfriend would hold your hands in her’s, teaching you all the little tricks to the game that came naturally to her. When she got tired of helping you, the two of you switched to playing against each other. Despite her help, you still were no match for Claudia. It didn’t take long before she started getting bored of how easily she was beating you. After three times, she returned back to her whining at you, “amorrrr, this isn’t fun anymore.”

You felt terrible for her. It was clear how much she was struggling with being stuck at home, but it’s also what the doctor had recommended. Especially given that it had only been a week, you didn’t feel comfortable going against that yet. “I’m sorry, Clau. I wish I knew how to help you,” you let out a heavy sigh, looking to her in hopes she’d give you any sort of lead on what could help her.

“The girls are going out tonight…” she looked at you hesitantly, already knowing what you were gonna say. “What if we just went for a little bit? It wouldn’t have to be long! And I wouldn’t drink or anything! I just need something other than this stupid couch.” You felt terrible, watching as your girlfriend pleaded with you. It broke your heart knowing that going out tonight was a terrible idea. You had already heard the girls planning their night and you knew that the club they were going to was going to be crazy. It was well known for being packed with people, an environment that would be nearly impossible for your girlfriend to navigate on her crutches.

“Clau,” you sighed, stroking her face gently with your hand. “Do you know where it is they’re going tonight?” the brunette shook her head tentatively, knowing this couldn’t be going in the direction she was hoping for. “Well I do. And it’s really not a good idea. I’m sorry, mi amor. I wish I had another answer for you.”

Her face fell even though you knew she understood. She nodded as she collapsed against you, falling into your arms. As much as it hurt you to see the one you loved in so much pain, you appreciated her newfound ability to express her emotions more openly with you. All you could do right now was hold her tightly and reassure her that this wouldn’t last much longer. After it had been a while of Claudia laying with you, you realized she was sleeping lightly in your arms. It seemed like a good idea to let her sleep. At the very least, it would pass the time while you came up with some ideas to make your girlfriend feel better..

After lots of thinking and texts with the girls, you had landed on the perfect plan. You had decided that if you couldn’t bring your girlfriend to the party, you’d bring the party to her. Between Mapi, Patri, and Alexia, you had arranged jobs for everyone in order to essentially arrange a surprise party for someone who wouldn’t be leaving your house.

Claudia had woken up late in the afternoon, hungry of course. Your latest job was to convince her to put off supper, knowing that the girls would be arriving with food soon. “Amor, maybe you’d feel better if you changed clothes?” You knew that she’d be much more appreciative of everyone coming over if she looked more like herself.

“Whyyyy?” she got back to her slightly whiny and pouty mood, reminded of how little she could do. “It’s so late in the day I don’t see why I should get dressed now? I just want to eat, mi amor.” Your girlfriend looked at you longingly, giving you puppy-dog eyes to get you on her side.

“I’ll get you food soon I promise. Just please trust me, Clau? I really think you’ll feel better,” now you were giving her the same puppy dog eyes, trying the same tactic back on her. It seemed to work as she gave in, letting you pick her up in your arms, carrying her to the bedroom. You set your girlfriend gently on the bed, while you went to pick out a fresh set of clothes.

With Claudia’s guidance, you had grabbed her a plain black t-shirt and a pair of black cargo pants. You knew she needed to be comfortable but would also appreciate looking a little better than she had the past week. She moved to sit on the edge of your bed so you were able to help her get changed. You pulled her t-shirt over her head gently, watching as a smirk grew on her face. It put your mind at ease, knowing that your girlfriend's typical suggestive attitude hadn’t yet disappeared. “Don’t even think about it, mi amor,” you warned her jokingly, making sure she didn’t get her hopes up. All you got in return was a light glare as you pulled the clean shirt on for her. The situation repeated as you carefully changed her pants, working gently past her boot. Changing clothes did seem to put her in a slightly better mood, looking and feeling a little more herself. She pulled out her messy ponytail and handed it to you, silently asking you to redo it for her, which you happily complied with.

Now that she was looking and feeling better, you picked her your girlfriend once again and carried her into the kitchen, setting her on a chair at your kitchen table. Right on time, you heard a knock at the door before Mapi let herself in, Ingrid in tow. In her hands was a bag of takeout from Claudia’s favorite restaurant. You had arranged for some of your closest friends to come eat with you before more of the girls came over to hang out later.

Confusion was clear on your girlfriend's face as she saw who had arrived, “Mapi? Ingrid? What are you guys doing here?” She looked between the two of them for answers before landing on you as well.

Finally, Ingrid decided to be the one to answer her, “we heard you could use some company, so we brought dinner.” You, Ingrid, and Mapi were all smirking, happy that the first part of your surprise had worked. Claudia looked over to you, knowing you were behind this. Her face was full of appreciation for how you had arranged this.

Just as Mapi started getting the food out, Patri and Alexia arrived together. Patri walked in greeting everyone loudly, knowing that it was exactly what her injured friend would want. “Hola, mi amigas!” Claudia’s face lit up upon seeing her two best friends walking through the door, seemingly understanding what was now happening. Patri went straight to her best friend, giving her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head.

Alexia went to you, her arms carrying bags full of a variety of alcohol. Her job was to bring things for the party later tonight and she seemed to have taken that job quite seriously. You put it all away, thanking her quietly while Patri caught up with your girlfriend. “Pina must be doing better now, si?” the Catalan questioned you while the others were distracted in conversation.

You nodded in response, “much better, just getting tired of not being able to do much.”

Alexia nodded understandingly, having recently spent plenty of time injured as well. “This will help,” she assured you. “You know her well, this will be perfect for her,” she gave you a small hug before the two of you began unboxing the food for everyone. While the six of you ate, you happily remained somewhat quiet, taking in the conversations among the rest of the group. Everyone was catching up with Claudia who was the most talkative you’d seen her all week. Watching her was a glimpse of her normal, energetic self and you just wanted to appreciate it while you could.

You let your girlfriend continue to get lost in conversation with Patri and Mapi while the rest of you started cleaning up the dishes. More of the girls would start arriving soon and you wanted to be ready. Ingrid went to your living room, cleaning up any of the remnants of the last week that Claudia had spent on the couch. Alexia started making some drinks so the party could start as soon as the others arrived. The captain had given everyone strict orders that they couldn’t stay over too late as Claudia would need the rest. She made sure everyone would be ready to start the night early, as soon as they arrived, to accommodate Claudia’s earlier than usual bedtime. As much as she knew she wouldn’t be drinking, she didn’t mind being the one in charge of the drinks. The captain liked being able to watch over everyone and make sure everyone was being safe, not like she had to worry much being in your shared apartment rather than a rowdy nightclub.

As expected, more teammates started to arrive soon after dinner. First it was Lucy and Ona, followed closely by Aitana, Kiera, and Mariona. Every time another teammate walked it, Claudia looked just as surprised as she had the last time. She would always follow the surprise by confusion, and then immediately look to you in thanks. It had not been long before most of the team had arrived, turning your apartment into a mini-nightclub. There were strobe lights going in your living room, drinks were flowing, and music was blasting (all from a playlist of Claudia’s favorites, of course).

It was clear how much your girlfriend was enjoying this when you walked into your living room and saw her on Lucy’s back, as the older girl jumped around with her. Again, you let her have her space, enjoying watching how she was having the most fun she’d had all week. Her energy was back, and she was enjoying one of her favorite ways to let loose and relax. Both of you had had a couple drinks but were far from drunk. You each needed to relax a bit while still being somewhat careful of your broken girlfriend. Everytime you spotted Claudia, she seemed to be on someone else’s back, yelling directions in their ear on where she wanted them to take her.

Eventually, you had been distracted, dancing with Kiera and Aitana, enjoying some time with your own friends, when Patri made her way to you. Claudia was on her back of course, very giggly, and reaching out for you. “(Y/n/n)! Will you hold me? I haven’t seen you all night!” She fake pouted at you while Patri carefully switched her to your back. “I missed you!!” she peppered the side of your face with kisses as she basically yelled to be heard.

“Come find me if your back needs a break from her! I’ll be in the kitchen!” you nodded to Patri appreciatively, thankful for how she was supporting you as well as her best friend.

Claudia wrapped her arms around your neck tightly, giving you a tight hug from her spot on your back. “Thank you, mi amor. I think I really needed this.”

You only responded by turning your head, giving her lips a quick kiss, “Anything for you, Claudia. Always.”

The two of you continued to dance, as well as you could with her on your back, until Alexia started to send people home. As much as everyone could’ve gone longer, Claudia could not. Normally she’d be the first to be out all night, but after being on the couch all week, this small amount of action really exhausted her. The two of you thanked everyone for coming as the small crowd slowly dissipated. Eventually you were left with the group of six of you that had eaten dinner together. The group cleaned up the place, returning it from being ‘nightclub’ to being your home again. Neither you nor Claudia could thank them enough. They had been lifesavers for you. Helping arrange this entire thing just to help make your girlfriend feel better. It was exactly what Claudia needed too. She thrived on socialization and valued her friends more than anything. This was her way of relaxing and she was finally able to do it.

Once everything had left, it was just the two of you, and a peaceful silence. You carried her into your bedroom, bridal style, and laid her gently on your bed, similar to how you had done it earlier in the day. You changed both of you into something more comfortable to sleep in, a big t-shirt with just underwear on the bottom. It was clear she was tired when there were no suggestive comments at you changing her clothes. You both got ready for bed, exhausted from the excitement. Immediately Claudia curled into your side, like she often did now. “Bebita, I don’t deserve you,” she spoke quietly, tired yet still awake.

“Yes you do, I promise,” it was all you could respond because it was true. You knew that if the roles were reversed, she would do the exact same thing.

“I don’t know how you can put up with me after I shut you out a few days ago. I can’t believe you did all this for me after I acted like that.”

Your heart broke once again, hearing how the love of your life didn’t think she deserved you. “Claudia, I love you. Always. Even if you try to push me away. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I’m still gonna do whatever I can to help you and right now, that means throwing you a party.”

“Mi amor, I truly cannot thank you enough. You made today a lot less depressing. I love you.” She somehow managed to snuggle into you even deeper than before, although you didn’t mind one bit. You appreciated the closeness and affection she was unable to show you earlier in the week.

“I love you, Claudia. Always.” you gave her a tight squeeze in return, trying to force her to feel you love.

As tired as you both were, Claudia couldn’t quite suppress the energy she had gotten from being with her friends all night. You knew her well enough to know she’d be talking about it some as you both drifted off to sleep. “Did you hear about how Mapi wants a motorcycle?” she giggled to herself, knowing you were already half asleep. “I think Ingrid actually would kill her. She looked like she might just from talking about it today.” Your girlfriend continued to chat, mostly to herself, “I could see that though and…” She drifted into sleep shortly after you, her bubbly words turning to incoherent mumbling before coming to a stop as the two of you slept deeply in each other's arms. You both were filled with more love for each other than ever before, knowing you would go to the ends of the earth to make each other happy.

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powderblueblood · 6 months

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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

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summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k

Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do.

I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat.

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one.

Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.

Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me.

Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi.

Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her.

The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become.

This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this.

It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time.

What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.

And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto.

Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.

He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out.

But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him.

He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.

“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated.

Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action.

Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.

“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!”

—

“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway.

“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that.

He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him.

So you do it again.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.

“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him.

“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!”

“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”

Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.”

Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance.

You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.

“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.”

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest.

“Stay out of my way, then.”

“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.”

“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”

—

Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had.

See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.

Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft.

In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.

Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound.

He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask–

“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”

On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first.

“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.”

Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”

“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”

Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs.

But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something.

But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips.

He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.

“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”

You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.

“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”

“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”

“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.”

A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”

“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day.

Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.

“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“

“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”

“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”

Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win.

He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this.

Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking.

But he’s done it.

Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second.

Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell.

“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”

Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.”

And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“Nicole Summers.”

“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”

“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”

“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”

“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”

You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick.

“How was it?” you press.

Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”

Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”

“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”

Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass.

Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to.

What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”

“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.

“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping.

“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.

“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again.

“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face.

Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights.

“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?”

“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.”

Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you.

“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”

That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh.

“Combination lock, huh?”

“Allegedly.”

“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.”

Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”

Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”

He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t.

You’re drunk.

If you can stay drunk, all bets are off.

If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk.

You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan.

And it would mean nothing.

And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.

But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat.

“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”

So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home.

“Oh, shit!”

Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.

Trembling.

“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”

Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus.

He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.

Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–”

But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other.

Fuck. He can’t leave you like this.

You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there.

“Uh– Lacy?”

The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door.

A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you?

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful.

Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–?

“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.”

“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon.

“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”

But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position.

“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands.

What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed.

“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.”

It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face.

“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed.

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.”

–

You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive.

“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.

You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver.

“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness.

Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it.

“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”

She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy.

You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that.

So somebody must have.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile.

Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet.

Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.

Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada.

Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax.

“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.”

Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts.

“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”

“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.”

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare.

“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”

Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”

“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing.

“Wayne–”

“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.”

He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night.

He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.

–

Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover.

It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s.

You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?

Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?

But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life.

The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess.

Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day.

You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.

You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that.

Regret stabs at you.

“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi.

“What?”

“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?”

Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”

“Ugh, thank god.”

“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.”

You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van.

“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you.

“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”

“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”

Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High.

“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.”

He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.”

You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”

“You’re never late for first period.”

“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?”

“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.”

It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would.

Until now.

And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him.

Until now.

“So?” he says, all expectant.

And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure.

The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded.

But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson?

Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust.

You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot.

As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.

You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk.

“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”

You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”

Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum.

Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand.

Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body.

She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park.

“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”

“Huh?”

“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”

You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.”

Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now.

Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight.

“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little.

Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be.

“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

–

Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine.

But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap.

Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die.

Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.

You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor.

Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night.

“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker.

She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her.

Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape.

“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says.

This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at.

“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table.

There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart.

You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you.

Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.

“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”

author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder

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nayeonie99 · 2 months

Text

Nayeon x Jeongyeon / Pornstars

Word count: 4781K

It was a rainy day in Seoul, South Korea. Nayeon‘s manager had texted her that she has a shooting today at 6pm, so Nayeon was currently driving there.

The rain drops were echoing against the window of her car, sliding down the cold glass.

She didn’t know that she will have the shooting with THE Yoo Jeongyeon. And it may be better this way, because Nayeon has always dreamed about working with her.

She watched every single porn video there is available of Yoo Jeongyeon, and when I say every single, I mean every single.

She arrived at the location and parked her car, her manager was already waiting for her in front of the building with an umbrella in her hand.

“So, will you tell me with who I’ll be shooting today? Or will you keep it to yourself for the rest of the night?”. Nayeon asked, while she pressed herself to the side of her manager.

“I would’ve told you with who you will be shooting sooner or later, because I feel like if I wouldn’t, you’d totally freak out as soon as we walk into the room in a few minutes”. Her manager said and they started walking into the building.

“Okay, then who is it?”. Nayeon curiously asked and when they made their way into the building, and her manager closed the umbrella to put it into one of the stands, she turned to Nayeon with a teasing smirk.

“Yoo Jeongyeon��. She said and Nayeon’s face turned chalk white. Her heart started beating so fast.

“Jihyo, please tell me you are joking right now. I’m not mentally prepared for this”. Nayeon said and grabbed Jihyo’s shoulders tightly with her hands.

Jihyo just grinned at her and wrapped her own hands around Nayeon’s wrists, staring into her eyes, “What’s the matter? You always wanted this, didn’t you? I finally got the opportunity to arrange a shooting with Jeongyeon, and now you’re getting cold feet?”.

“Jihyo…You don’t understand. I’ve been fantasising about this for so long. I’m just really nervous, okay? What if she doesn’t like me? Or what if she thinks I’m ugly? Or annoying?”.

“Please that’s not true, I mean…yeah, you can be annoying some times, but that’s something lovely about you”. Jihyo said and Nayeon glared at her, “Thanks, you really know how to calm my nerves”. Nayeon ironically said and started whining when Jihyo started pulling her towards the room.

“Jihyo, Jihyo, Jih-“. Nayeon’s voice faded when Jihyo knocked against the door. Footsteps could be heard and a beautiful woman opened the door. She had black short hair, dark eyes, muscular arms and a body to die for.

“Ah, Jihyo-ssi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. The woman said and her voice was just like her visuals absolutely beautiful.

“Ah, Momo-ssi. Thanks for having us, I’m glad this worked out. I feel like this will be really, really successful for both Nayeon and Jeongyeon”. Jihyo said, while the two of them entered the room.

“Nayeon, this is Hirai Momo, Jeongyeon’s manager”. Jihyo said and Momo smiled at Nayeon, holding out her hand for her to shake, which she did, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you Nayeon-ah. You’re much more beautiful in person”. Momo said, which made Nayeon blush.

“T-Thank you, Momo-ssi”. Nayeon said and Momo smirked at her, she thought that Nayeon will be perfect for this.

“So, where’s Jeongyeon?”. Jihyo asked, awakening Nayeon’s curiosity once again.

“She will be here any second, she got stuck in traffic”. Momo said and let go of Nayeon’s hand.

“So…what will we be shooting today?”. Nayeon asked and sat down on the couch, next to Jihyo.

“Let me tell you as soon as Jeongyeon is here. She doesn’t know what it will be either”. Momo said with this almost sinister smirk playing around her lips. Nayeon felt really intimidated by the Japanese.

“Sorry I’m late Momo, traffic was absolutely horrible”.

There she is, Yoo Jeongyeon.

Nayeon gulped, her body froze. All she could do was stare, stare at the way Jeongyeon was dressed, the way her hair was styled, her face structure, her body….

“Nayeon”. Jihyo hissed at her, snapping Nayeon out of her trance like state.

Nayeon quickly stood up, bowing to greet Jeongyeon, “I-It’s really nice to meet you. Thank you for having the time to see me”. Nayeon rushed out, a blush covering her cheeks and nose again.

“You don’t have to be so formal, and if I remember correctly, you’re older than me, so I should be the one bowing down to you, unnie”. Jeongyeon said and Nayeon nearly let out a moan at the way Jeongyeon was talking to her.

When she looked up and Jeongyeon was staring at her already, the blush that was covering her face turned impossibly darker, making Jeongyeon smirk.

“I was looking forward to working with you. I really like and cherish your work”. Jeongyeon said and Nayeon smiled.

“Thank you so much, I also really like your work. It’s been a dream of mine to work with someone amazingly talented as you”. Nayeon said and Jeongyeon grinned.

“So, if you guys would sit down, then Jihyo and I can tell you what you guys will be shooting today”. Momo said and Nayeon and Jeongyeon sat down on the couch, while Jihyo and Momo stood in front of them.

“So, you guys may have realised that we don’t have any hair or makeup teams here, or lights and cameras. The reason for that is that you both will be shooting your own video tonight”. Jihyo said.

Nayeon’s eyes widened, and the grip she had on her skirt tightened.

“You mean as in amateur?”. Jeongyeon asked, making Momo nod, “Yes exactly. A lot of people enjoy amateur porn more than professional porn, because amateur seems more private and real. The viewers have a feeling of watching a real couple having an intimate moment with each other”. Momo said and Jeongyeon nodded her head understandingly.

“So for closure, that will mean you both will spent the entire night together, go out to eat, have some drinks if you want to. Pretend you’re filming a vlog for YouTube, except that you guys will have sex at some point”. Momo said and Nayeon really thought she is dreaming right now.

She will be completely alone with Jeongyeon. No managers, no cameras, except the one they will be having to record themselves with.

“Alright, I think this will be all of the information we guys have for you. You both are professionals, so just go with the flow and enjoy the night”. Jihyo said and smirked at Nayeon.

“Here’s the camera you guys will be filming with. It’s fully charged and will last for the entire night”. Momo handed Jeongyeon the small camera, which was small enough to put in your purse, but still had an amazing quality.

“We will be staying in the same hotel as you guys, so tomorrow we will meet at the hotel lobby and part ways again”. Jihyo said, while Momo and her were grabbing their belongings to leave Nayeon and Jeongyeon alone.

“Alright girls, have fun and enjoy”. Momo smirked at them before leaving the hotel room with Jihyo.

Nayeon just stared at the closed door and felt her nerves kicking in. She looked around the hotel room, which she totally forgot earlier by how nervous she was.

The room looked cozy. A huge window with the sight of Seoul’s skyscrapers could be seen. A large Tv was hanging against the wall and the bed was a king sized, with dark grey pillows and cover.

Nayeon was so in thoughts, that she didn’t see Jeongyeon turning on the camera, already recording her.

“Are you hungry, my love?”. This broke Nayeon’s thoughts and when she turned her head to the side to be met by the lense of the camera, she instantly played along.

“Yeah…starving, actually”. She rasped out and stared into Jeongyeon’s eyes instead of the camera while she said that.

“Then let’s get some food, should we?”. Jeongyeon smirked back and filmed herself stroking Nayeon’s cheek with her thumb.

Nayeon’s heart nearly exploded. All she did was hum, caressing the top of Jeongyeon’s hand with her own thumb.

They both grabbed their coats and belongings, before making their way to a restaurant nearby. They were walking down the street, holding each other’s hands, which got captured by the camera Jeongyeon was still holding, before moving the camera up to film Nayeon’s face.

“You look really beautiful tonight”. Jeongyeon said and Nayeon blushed, smiling to herself.

“Thank you, so do you”. Jeongyeon smirked and when they reached the restaurant she hid the camera a little bit, so they wouldn’t gain too much attention.

“What are you gonna order, darling?”. Jeongyeon asked after they got seated into the corner of the restaurant, a little bit isolated from the rest of the guests.

Jeongyeon was already driving Nayeon crazy with all the pet names. They were both sitting next to each other on the bench, so they could put the camera down so it captures the both of them without one of them having to hold the camera the whole time.

“I’m really in the mood for Jajangmyeon, what about you?”. Nayeon asked and rested her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder, snuggling into her side.

“Maybe Kimchi-jjigae?”. Jeongyeon said and wrapped her right arm around Nayeon’s waist.

“Great choice”. Nayeon hummed and ran her finger over Jeongyeon’s hand.

That’s one thing Jeongyeon really liked about Nayeon.

Her hands.

They were absolutely perfect. Long, slender fingers with always beautifully decorated fingernails.

“Do you wanna order a bottle of wine as well?”. Jeongyeon asked and let Nayeon play with her fingers.

“Yeah, wine would be great. Do you prefer red or white?”. Nayeon asked and totally forgot about the camera recording them for a moment.

“Red mostly for meat only, otherwise white”. Jeongyeon answered and Nayeon looked up at her with a surprised expression on her face, “Yeah, same”. She smiled and Jeongyeon returned it instantly.

The waiter came and broke their little moment, taking their order before turning back around to leave them alone again.

“So, what do you do in your free time?”. Nayeon asked after the waiter filled up their wine glasses.

“I really like having late night drives, listening to music with the windows down”. Jeongyeon answered and Nayeon felt like she found her missing piece, because apart from singing, that’s what she enjoyed the most as well.

“Yeah so do I”.

“Maybe we can have a late night drive some other time”. Jeongyeon smiled at her, “Yeah, I’d love that”. Nayeon smiled back.

When their food came, they kept talking about anything that just popped up in their mind, also commenting how good the food is and shared it with each other.

They had dessert as well, which was Nayeon’s favourite part of the dinner. Jeongyeon payed for the both of them and Nayeon thanked her millions of times.

“You can thank me later”. Jeongyeon responded to that with a smirk playing on her lips, making Nayeon shiver.

She totally forgot that they will fuck when they are back at the hotel. I mean…she is definitely not complaining about that, that’s what she has been dreaming of for ages.

Jeongyeon was just really fun to be around with and Nayeon felt really comfortable and safe with her, which was a really calming fact for her.

“Oh yeah? How would you like me to thank you?”. Nayeon hummed, while interlocking her arm with Jeongyeon’s, while they were walking back to the hotel.

Nayeon was the one recording now, capturing their upper bodies and faces, while walking.

“I have some things in mind”. Jeongyeon grinned and Nayeon felt the anticipation growing inside of her more and more with each step they got closer to the hotel room.

When they entered the lobby and Nayeon recorded Jeongyeon pressing the button for the elevator, it felt like ages before she finally heard the 'ping' noise and the metal doors opened for them to enter.

She pointed the camera toward the large mirror inside of the elevator. Jeongyeon stepped behind her to wrap her strong arms around Nayeon’s petite waist, placing kisses over her cheek and jaw.

Nayeon watched it through the little screen of the recorder, feeling her heart racing yet again.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself”. Jeongyeon whispered in her ear, making Nayeon’s knees nearly give in.

When the elevator doors opened again, they both quickly made their way to the hotel room. Jeongyeon held the card against the mechanism, the light switched from red to green and they both walked into the room, after Jeongyeon closed the door with a ‘Don’t disturb' sign hanging onto the doorknob.

Nayeon placed the camera on top of the round little desk, so it directly points towards the bed.

“Come here”. Jeongyeon pulled Nayeon against her chest, wrapping her arms around her waist. Nayeon wrapped her arms around the back of Jeongyeon’s neck, staring at her with hazed eyes.

“I can’t wait to play with you”. Jeongyeon whispered in Nayeon’s ear, which made Nayeon whine out. Jeongyeon didn’t say this for the camera, she only said it for Nayeon.

“What are you waiting for then?”. Nayeon smirked, playing with the little baby hairs at Jeongyeon’s neck.

Jeongyeon just hummed, before pulling Nayeon in front of the camera, running her hands up and down her naked thighs.

She lifted up the skirt Nayeon was wearing, exposing her red laced panties to the camera.

“So pretty”. She hummed, running her nails up and down the inside of Nayeon’s thighs, making her legs flinch.

Jeongyeon slid the zipper of the skirt down, letting the skirt fall down to the floor, pooling around Nayeon’s feet. Nayeon quickly stepped out of it, kicking off her black Louboutin’s as well.

Jeongyeon took off the black shirt Nayeon was wearing, exposing the matching red laced bra.

“You’re so beautiful”. Jeongyeon breathed out and turned Nayeon around to kiss her. They turned to the side, so the camera catches the way their tongues swirl around each other and the way Nayeon’s hands clench into Jeongyeon’s shirt, before taking it off, revealing Jeongyeon’s black bra.

Nayeon couldn’t hide the smirk forming on her lips. She’s dreamt about undressing Jeongyeon millions of times already, and to do exactly that was just pure bliss to her.

Jeongyeon smirked back at her, as if she could read her mind. Nayeon let her palms slide down Jeongyeon’s stomach, sliding her pointer fingers teasingly under the waistband of her black, baggy jeans, while Jeongyeon kicked off her Nikey’s.

Nayeon looked up at her, staring at Jeongyeon with hazed eyes, while she started unbuttoning her pants and pulling the zipper down, so Jeongyeon’s pants fall down to her ankles, leaving her in her black bra and black Calvin Klein boxer shorts.

Before Nayeon could do anything else, Jeongyeon turned Nayeon’s front to the camera again, so Nayeon’s back was pressed against her chest.

Jeongyeon’s fingers opened the back of Nayeon’s bra, slipping the straps painfully slow down Nayeon’s shoulders, exposing Nayeon’s tits.

Jeongyeon threw the bra somewhere in the room, before wrapping her arms around Nayeon’s naked waist. Nayeon grabbed the top of Jeongyeon’s hands with her own.

Jeongyeon started placing open-mouthed kisses over Nayeon’s neck, before moving her hands up to palm Nayeon’s tits.

Nayeon let out a shaky breath, leaning her head against Jeongyeon’s shoulder, tilting her head to give Jeongyeon more space.

“My pretty girl”. Jeongyeon whispered in Nayeon’s ear, making her moan out loudly for the first time. Jeongyeon smirked, pinching Nayeon’s nipples between her thumb and pointer finger, nibbling on Nayeon’s earlobe.

Jeongyeon quickly took her own bra off, throwing it to Nayeon’s red one lying somewhere in the room, before pressing her naked chest against Nayeon’s naked back.

Jeongyeon felt Nayeon shiver, she turned Nayeon sideways again, kneeling down in front of her.

Nayeon’s mouth gaped open when Jeongyeon started placing kisses down her tummy and upper thighs. Jeongyeon slid Nayeon’s panties down her long legs, exposing Nayeon’s shaved pussy, already slick with wetness.

“Hmm, all for me?”. Jeongyeon rasped out and let her thumb rub over Nayeon’s clit slowly, collecting the wetness.

All Nayeon could do was nod, she couldn’t form any words right now, too horny to even think of words right now.

Jeongyeon stood back up, taking off her boxer’s in a quick motion, leaving them both completely naked and exposed to the lense of the camera.

Nayeon gulped when her eyes instantly shot down between Jeongyeon’s legs. Jeongyeon was huge, pre-cum was already leaking out of the tip.

Jeongyeon pushed Nayeon towards the direction of the bed, pushing her down by her shoulders, so she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, before walking back to grab the camera.

She pointed the lense towards Nayeon, before walking closer to her, so her cock was face to face with Nayeon’s.

“Baby”. Jeongyeon rasped out and Nayeon had to press her thighs together because of that nickname.

“Yes?”. She innocently asked and stared into the camera.

“I want your mouth on me, please?”. Jeongyeon sweetly asked and Nayeon smirked.

“Of course, babe”. Nayeon said and wrapped her huge hand around Jeongyeon’s cock. Her hand could barely close around Jeongyeon’s length.

“You’re so hard”. Nayeon breathed out, slowly pumping her hand up and down. Jeongyeon hummed and pointed the camera a bit lower, to film everything.

“Only for you”. She said and Nayeon licked her lips, before leaning down to kiss Jeongyeon’s tip, “I know baby”. Nayeon husked out and then sucked Jeongyeon‘s tip completely in her mouth.

Jeongyeon let out a moan, capturing the way Nayeon’s cheeks puff, the way her jaw goes slack and the way her brows clench together by how filled her mouth was because of Jeongyeon.

“Mmm, yes. That’s my girl, you’re doing so good”. Jeongyeon cooed, making Nayeon moan against her tip, before taking more and more of Jeongyeon down her throat.

“Fuck, Yeonie”. Jeongyeon huffed, grabbing the back of Nayeon’s head, clenching her fingers in her brown hair.

Nayeon wrapped her hand tighter around Jeongyeon’s cock, sucking harder at her tip, while her hand kept pumping up and down faster.

“Shit…you’re so good at that baby. I’m so close”. Jeongyeon moaned out and this encouraged Nayeon even more to finally make Jeongyeon cum in her mouth.

It didn’t take long after that. A few more sucks and pumps and Jeongyeon shot her load into Nayeon’s mouth, filling it completely up.

Nayeon stuck out her tongue to show the camera the cum, before swallowing it.

“Good girl”. Jeongyeon hummed and leaned down to peck Nayeon’s lips. Nayeon smiled against her lips before pecking her lips multiple times.

Jeongyeon pushed her further up the bed, so Nayeon’s head was resting against the huge pillows. Jeongyeon handed her the camera, so Nayeon grabbed it to point the lense towards Jeongyeon.

“Time for your reward”. Jeongyeon said and Nayeon bit her lip, watching Jeongyeon spread her legs with ease. Jeongyeon laid down between Nayeon’s spread legs, kissing a path up and down the inside of Nayeon’s thighs.

Nayeon pointed the camera close to Jeongyeon’s face, watching her through the little screen attached to the camera.

“You’re so wet princess. Look at the mess you made”. Jeongyeon rasped out, running her fingers through Nayeon’s slick folds, collecting her wetness to show her how wet her fingers were.

The dark room was only lit up by the little lamp on the nightstand next to the bed, the moonlight and the light from the skyscrapers shining into the room, making Jeongyeon’s fingers look like they got coated in diamonds.

Jeongyeon sucked her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean, before wrapping her arms around Nayeon’s thighs. She blew cold air against Nayeon’s clit, making her whine.

Jeongyeon just smirked before sucking Nayeon’s clit in her mouth. Nayeon’s legs twitched, she wanted to press her legs together but Jeongyeon held them apart.

Her hand could barely hold the camera, it took all the control in her to hold the camera still.

When Jeongyeon started flicking her tongue over Nayeon’s clit, Nayeon let out a squeal, reaching her free hand out to clench her hand in Jeongyeon’s hair.

Jeongyeon let her flat tongue run up and down Nayeon’s slit, before closing back around her clit again. She watched Nayeon’s face, the way her cheeks are flushed, her parted lips, the clenched brows.

To see this in person after only seeing it on videos was absolutely perfect, breathtaking even for Jeongyeon. Nayeon was so beautiful, plus she tastes absolutely amazing as well.

“You taste so good, princess”. Jeongyeon hummed out, making Nayeon moan loudly at the nickname.

Nayeon completely lost it when Jeongyeon pushed two fingers into her, fucking her at a fast pace, while her tongue kept working her clit.

“Oh my fucking god”. Nayeon croaked out, the grip on Jeongyeon’s hair tightening.

“What is it?”. Jeongyeon grinned, while still thrusting her fingers in and out of Nayeon.

“It feels so good”. Nayeon breathed out.

“What? I didn’t hear you?”. Jeongyeon smirked, curling her fingers inside Nayeon.

“It feels so good”. Nayeon cried out loudly, filming Jeongyeon’s fingers, the sound of her wetness echoing in the room, just like the panting and moaning from both of them.

“Yeah? It feels good? Are you gonna cum for me, huh?”. Jeongyeon cooed, grabbing the camera out of Nayeon’s hand.

“Come on, cum all over my fingers”. Jeongyeon rasped out, filming the way her entire hand started rubbing Nayeon’s clit.

Nayeon let out a loud squeal, before squirting all over Jeongyeon’s hand and thighs.

“Mmm, yes, just like that sweetie”. Jeongyeon hummed, capturing everything with the camera.

Nayeon’s legs were shaking like crazy. No one has ever made her squirt before, so she was really emotional right now and started tearing up.

Jeongyeon instantly felt the mood switching and set the camera onto the night stand, so it captures the both of them.

“Hey, come here”. Jeongyeon leaned down, sliding her arms under Nayeon’s back, pulling her closer. Nayeon instantly wrapped her arms around Jeongyeon’s neck, pressing their chest together.

“What’s the matter?”. Jeongyeon asked, caressing Nayeon’s hair, while Nayeon was sobbing against her neck.

Nayeon pulled away from Jeongyeon’s neck, staring up at her. “Hm?”. Jeongyeon hummed, caressing Nayeon’s cheek.

“I just loved it so much”. Nayeon croaked out, wiping her tears away. Jeongyeon couldn’t help the huge smile forming on her face.

“Aww, you’re so fucking cute”. She said and squished Nayeon’s cheeks together, before pecking her lips multiple times, making Nayeon giggle.

“No, it’s embarrassing…”. Nayeon whined, hiding her face with her hands.

“No, it’s not. I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else right now, than here, with you…”. Jeongyeon said.

Nayeon slowly removed her hands from her face, grabbing the back of Jeongyeon’s neck.

“Really?”. Nayeon asked, pulling Jeongyeon closer, so close until their foreheads were pressed together. Jeongyeon didn’t say anything, she just kissed Nayeon, actions speak louder than words after all.

They both sighed into the kiss, caressing every part of their bodies they could reach.

Nayeon turned them around, so she’s straddling Jeongyeon’s lap. The camera was still recording, but it was like both had forgotten about it by now.

When Nayeon sank down on Jeongyeon’s cock, Jeongyeon felt like she just entered heaven.

“Fuck…”. She breathed out, grabbing Nayeon’s slim waist, watching her cock slide smoothly in and out of Nayeon’s slick pussy.

Nayeon planted her hands onto Jeongyeon’s stomach, instantly starting at a rough pace. Her hips slammed up and down so hard that their skin was slapping together each time.

“Nayeon”. Jeongyeon groaned out, spanking one of Nayeon’s ass cheeks harshly, making the older woman moan lewdly.

When Jeongyeon started thrusting up into Nayeon, Nayeon couldn’t hold herself up and longer. She collapsed on top of Jeongyeon, her face pressed in the crook of Jeongyeon’s neck.

Jeongyeon slid her arms around Nayeon’s waist, feet planted against the mattress, before she started pounding into her.

“Jeongyeon”. Nayeon cried into Jeongyeon’s ear, making Jeongyeon huff out, spanking Nayeon once again, and again, and again.

“You take it so well, you’re such a good girl”. Jeongyeon praised and grabbed Nayeon’s ass tightly in each of her hands, literally fucking Nayeon’s brain out of her.

“Rub your clit for me sweetie”. Jeongyeon rasped out. Nayeon’s shaking hand slide down between their bodies, rubbing her hard nub with her fingers.

“Jeongyeonie”. Nayeon cried out even harder, her entire body started shaking.

“It’s okay, just cum if u want baby”. Jeongyeon moaned out. She could feel the way Nayeon’s pussy clenched around her dick and soon after she felt Nayeon’s cum coating her dick.

“Good girl”. Jeongyeon huffed out, kissing Nayeon’s temple.

Nayeon leaned up, threw her hair to one side of her shoulder and leaned down to kiss Jeongyeon.

She grabbed Jeongyeon’s jaw, opening up her mouth to suck her tongue in her mouth. Jeongyeon moaned into her mouth, scratching her nails down Nayeon’s spine, making the older woman groan.

Jeongyeon’s eyes darted to the side, the red dot blinking on and off from the camera in a steady rhythm. She quickly turned them around, so Nayeon’s under her again.

She grabbed the camera, filming Nayeon up and down.

“You’re so perfect”. Jeongyeon said, making Nayeon blush, “Open your mouth”. Jeongyeon said and Nayeon instantly obeyed.

“Good girl”. Jeongyeon hummed before sliding two fingers in Nayeon’s mouth, Nayeon’s mouth instantly closed around Jeongyeon’s fingers, sucking them.

Without a warning Jeongyeon pushed her cock completely into Nayeon, making her gasp against Jeongyeon’s fingers.

Jeongyeon pulled her fingers out of Nayeon’s mouth, sliding her hand around her throat, choking her. Nayeon gasped out, clenching her hands into the sheets.

Jeongyeon leaned back up, filming her cock sliding in and out of Nayeon’s pussy. Her dick was glistening in the dark from Nayeon’s wetness.

Jeongyeon held out her free hand and Nayeon instantly interlocked their fingers, spreading her legs more, so Jeongyeon can fuck her even harder.

Jeongyeon put the camera back onto the nightstand, so it films their entire bodies again.

She spread Nayeon’s legs so far apart, that Nayeon was folded underneath her, completely pinned by Jeongyeon with no room of moving.

Nayeon scratched down Jeongyeon’s back, just for Jeongyeon to pin Nayeon’s hands up above her head as well.

Nayeon was completely at Jeongyeon’s mercy, not that she was complaining though.

Jeongyeon grabbed Nayeon’s face between her fingers, so they’re staring at each other before she started fucking Nayeon into the mattress.

Nayeon’s mouth gaped open in a silent scream, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Yeah, you like that?”. Jeongyeon whispered in Nayeon’s ear, making her cry out, “Huh? You forgot how to speak now?”. Jeongyeon grinned, pressing her fingers harder into Nayeon’s cheeks.

“N-No, it feels s-so f-fucking good”. Nayeon huffed out between thrusts, her words coming out breathless by how hard Jeongyeon was fucking her.

“Yeah, you’re feeling good? I’m glad”. Jeongyeon smirked, leaning down to kiss Nayeon passionately. Nayeon moaned into her mouth, swirling their tongues around each other once again.

“I’m close Jeongyeonie”. Nayeon croaked out.

“Yeah, I know. You’re clenching so hard around my cock”. Jeongyeon shamelessly said, making Nayeon moan out once again.

“I’m close too, let’s cum together”. Jeongyeon said, before picking up the pace for the last time. They were both moaning lewdly, not giving any fucks anymore.

“I’m cumming”. Nayeon squealed out, clenching hard around Jeongyeon’s cock, making Jeongyeon cum as well, milking her completely dry.

“Yes…fill me up”. Nayeon moaned out, making Jeongyeon groan, while cumming inside of her.

Jeongyeon grabbed the camera from the nightstand again, before filming down to their crotches. She slowly pulled out her cock, spreading Nayeon’s pussy apart to show her cum leaking out of it.

After she recorded that she turned off the camera, putting it back onto the nightstand.

“You did so good”. Jeongyeon said and hovered over Nayeon once again, pecking her lip gently.

“Thank you, you were amazing”. Nayeon breathed out, still feeling the aftermaths of her many orgasms.

Jeongyeon smiled at her before pulling her in for one last kiss. Nayeon grabbed her cheeks with both hands, enjoying this moment for one last time.

“How about we get clean and go for a late night drive?”. Jeongyeon asked with a smile before sliding a strand of hair behind Nayeon’s ear.

“Yes, I’d love that”. Nayeon smiled, caressing Jeongyeon’s hand against her cheek.

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