#metallic so she looks prettier in person
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space octopus
#arts & crafts#rock painting#mine#octopusblogging#metallic so she looks prettier in person#been trying to photograph her for an hour#and its dark so lighting sucks no matter what i do#but spaaace
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hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍
ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)
Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago.
You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions.
He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away.
Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant.
“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs.
But alas.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”
Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined.
He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course.
Definitely not.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.
“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.
You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”
It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it.
You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.
You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.
Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”
A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.
Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”
“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.
The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.
“Clingy much?” he scoffs.
You nod with a proud smile.
Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag.
It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.
“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.
You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”
“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.
His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”
“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”
It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.
“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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Eddie needs this to go perfectly.
He’s… okay, saying he’s not an anxious person would be a lie. Eddie is very acquainted with the fight or flight instinct, with the latter of those two options being far more familiar. He’s vaguely obsessive and twitchy and, frankly, puts way too much thought and time into planning one-shots, nevermind regular campaign sessions.
Majority of the time, he likes to have control of a situation. There are reasons for that, plenty of which he knows, some of which he’s gone to therapy for, and more that are on the bedroom and currently irrelevant side of things.
The relevant side of things is the guy in front of him who doesn’t have any sort of ear protection on.
Eddie should mind his business. He really should. Corroded Coffin isn’t even headlining. They’re the openers for the tour of a much bigger band that noticed them and asked if they wanted to tour with them and Archie fangirled so hard he passed out. It was a whole thing.
Still, it’s their first real tour, and Eddie is a control freak, and he needs it to be perfect, which means no one gets hurt. This random guy - probably a roadie of some sort from how he’s plugging cables into something Eddie doesn’t know the name of - not having any sort of ear protection counts as someone maybe getting hurt.
Eddie doesn’t even know him, but he can’t have that happen.
Hell, this guy’s friend has her earplugs looped around her neck on a string like Eddie does. But Hottie - yeah, he’s hot and Eddie’s queer with a healthy sex drive, get over it - has none in sight.
That’s a problem. Eddie can’t have problems, not tonight, not before the first show.
“Hey!” he calls, walking over to Hottie and his friend, who are setting up equipment away from the stage. “You gotta have something for your ears, dude!”
Hottie and his friend exchange a look that Eddie can’t make heads or tails of.
“Thanks man,” Hottie says, and that nickname applies to his voice, too. “But I’m good.”
Eddie frowns. “You need to protect your hearing.”
“Trust me,” Hottie says. “I’ve worked a lot of gigs. Never wore anything then, won’t wear anything now, probably won’t wear anything at the next one.”
Okay. It’s fine. Eddie should walk away now. He’s totally capable of walking away. It is, quite obviously, the better alternative to this circular conversation.
But Hottie is gonna hurt himself this way. Potentially really badly if it’s not a one time thing. This is a metal show, for G-d’s sake. He’ll do some serious damage over time.
Eddie needs this to go perfectly, and for things to go perfectly, he can’t be responsible for that.
“I don’t think you get it,” he says. “You’re gonna destroy your ears that way, especially if you do this for a long time. This show is gonna be really intense, hell, the whole tour is! You can get cheap shit at the hardware store, it’s better than nothing-”
At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.
And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.
Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.
Oh. G-d.
Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?
“Trying my best but I’m not fluent, Steve,” she says. Her hands pause, and she looks down at them, confused.
Hottie - Steve - shrugs, and his hands move as he talks. “I’m not either. You were doing pretty good, though. I think. Or our mistakes just line up that well.”
“What’s the sign for reverb? It’s the last word he said.”
“No clue. You can just fingerspell it.”
“I can’t remember R.”
“How do you forget R? It’s in your name, Robin!”
The friend - Robin - throws her hands up. “You know I get it mixed up with X!”
Eddie wants to die. This is it. He’s going to melt into a puddle due to sheer embarrassment, fifteen minutes before the doors open to let in the biggest crowd Corroded Coffin has ever played for.
What a shitty way to go.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I didn’t-”
Steve cuts him off. “Normally, I can lip read enough to get the gist. But you speak too fast and trip over your words.”
Ouch. Okay.
“I do lights,” he continues. “Robin does sound. We know what we’re doing, and we don’t need you to tell us how to do our jobs, even if you mean well.”
Seriously?
Eddie should have minded his business. He knows that. But G-ddamn, that’s blunt.
He’s saved, thankfully, from digging himself into a bigger hole.
“Eddie!” Jeff hollers from the stage. “Get your ass over here!”
He turns to walk away, then turns back to Steve and Robin. “Sorry,” he says again.
He turns back around before he can see their reactions and runs back toward the stage. Intimately familiar with flight, and all that.
Shit. First night of tour, and he’s already made an enemy of the light and sound people.
And the light guy is hot.
Really hot.
And he hates Eddie.
This is gonna be a long few weeks.
Now with a continuation and a part 3!
ao3
#ria writes#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson#corroded coffin#hoh steve harrington#jewish eddie munson#(he snuck his way in here)#rockstar eddie munson#stranger things#st#steanger things#stranger things ficlet#st ficlet#gi;pe au
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💌┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。MY BOYFRIEND IS MY WALLET
leo valdez x fem!reader, mortal au. <3 + leo obsessing over lego sets blurb.
📬 sunni’s notes : on babies, when i started writing this austin started playing WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY LMFAAAOOO did ur boots stop working!! did ur truck break down 😖 anyways,, LEO WOULD SPOIL THEIR PARTNER!! THERE! I SAID IT!! i have way too many drafts rn. it’s actually really bad. besides that, have fun with this!! because every girl deserves to have a bf / gf who pays for everything like the princess they are. guys send me req’s im actually bored out of my mind </3 i’m in the makings of a percy fic too! but anyways, sunkisses!! mwuah!
sitting in her boyfriend’s car’s passanger seat, she hummed peacefully to the music played on the aux. leo had his hand on her thigh while he drove, “babe.” he patted her lightly, turning to the corner.
“yeah?” she coo’d. “we’re here.” she gasped, the flea market looking like absolute treasure to her as her [eye color] eyes lit up. leo snickered at the girl’s demeanor before parking at an open spot. about to get out, leo slammed her back in her seat, getting out, he jumped over his car’s hood and opened the door for (name) with no sweat.
(name) cackled at his dramatic antics, taking his hand as she stepped out. both of their outfits meshed so well together, (name) was all giddy. especially leo. “the sun’s so pretty!!” you coo’d. “you’re prettier.” he winked, grabbing his cap from the seat and placing it on his curly-head.
“yuck.” she replied, he cackled. “hey!! you’re suppose to compliment me back ‘oh leo, my sweet angel of a boyfriend, you are so much prettier.’” he mocked her as she interwined their hands. rolling her eyes affectionately, (name) gave him a kiss on the cheek, “maybe i’ll have to sweet talk you into buying me stuff.”
leo raised his brows, “baby, you just need to show up look pretty and bring your bright personality and i’ll buy the whole goddamn world for you.”
she pinched his cheeks, “whatever hot stuff.”
the flea market was so open, and the weather was a good breezy-kind. it was also not too crowded, so it was easy to walk through.
leo had this habit of keeping his hands in his girlfriend’s, feeling like she’ll slip away if he didn’t hold her hand.
but, upon roaming the flea market, (name) had seperated from leo, after he himself got distracted by the re-sold lego sets. she was keeping herself busy with the jewelry since she knew he’d realize he’d lost her hand and go look for her. from beaded bracelets and gold rings, god, she was entranced.
she had her share of buying jewelry, but since leo was good with metals, he usually made her rings. “those rings are beautiful dear.” the lady from the other side of the stall complimented with a beaming smile. shyly tucking her hair away, “thank you!! my boyfriend made them.” the lady coo’d, taking her hand to inspect the four rings on her right hand.
“so well made. i can feel the love through these.” she caressed the [silver/gold] rings. “oh yeah, lots of love.” leo stood beside her, sending her a small wink. surprised that he had found her that quickly, she sent him a surprised smile.
the lady lifted her gaze and smiled at the two. “what an adorable couple!!” she glistened. (name) could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and ears.
“thank you so much.” leo beamed, placing his warm hand on her back, the other hand holding a plastic bag of another addition to his lego obsession.
he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “did you want something mami?” she glanced back at the stall’s selection, finally finding a sun ring, perfectly fitting your pinky. she raised the ring to look at it under the sunlight, and it shimmered like glitter.
his expressions softened, a soft laugh escaping his lips, “we’ll get that.” he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “wh—what no!! leo, i’ll pay.” she took her own wallet out of her sling bag. “whAT. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.” leo, trying to give his card to the lady, who found the whole situation amusing, got knocked off by his girlfriend by the hip.
about to hand her card, leo was swift enough to knock her just the same and attempted to pay for it again. “leo!” she shoved him away with her hand on his face and reached for the lady’s open hands. leo shoved her again by the waist, the bag in his hands crinkling, “cariño— i— got— it!” struggling with her grip on leo, he finally managed to pay for it with a ding!
she sighed, leo taking her hand and slipping the ring in. “look! it fits so well.” he kissed the side of her eyes. “you’re so annoying.” she kid, “ah, i truly try my love.” he replied, cocky. “you didn’t have to do that, i could’ve paid.” (name) spoke softly, admiring the ring on her finger. “come on. i told you i’d buy you the whole world if i could.”
she giggled softly, “what’d you get this time?” she glanced at the bag in his hand. leo’s mouth agape open, pulling the dragon lego set out of the bag. “IT’S A DRAGON!!” he exclaimed excitedly, you cackled at how cute he was about this whole lego set obsession.
“maybe i’ll name him festus.” she kissed his cheek, “i think you should too.” his eyes lit up, “oh and these too!” he took out the daffodil lego set, “i thought you’d might like them.”
she smiled at the flower lego set he had handed her, “aw, leo. thank you handsome.”
—
“i think it goes in there honey.”
“that’s what she said.” she slapped his arm at the sex joke, a cackle escaping his lips while she attempted to hold in her giggles. “just put it in leo— AND DON’T YOU DARE MAKE A COMMENT ON THAT!” leo cackled again, throwing his head back.
he carefully placed the lego piece on top of the other. they we’re halfway done with the set, half of the dragon’s body already finished. leo had his curls hanged over his head, his tongue sticking out when he’s concentrated— a habit that made (name)’s heart patter.
“i’m never finishing this.” he leaned back to the couch, sighing out of frustration. “oh c’mon leo! you gotta finish it! you’re the mechanic, short-attention, and oh so cute.” you complimented to get his adrenaline back up, “yup. finishing it. whatever you say mami.”
she laughed as he sat back up and got back to work. “that’s my boy.”
#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡#leo valdez x reader#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus x reader#leo valdez#pjo#all the ladies luv leo
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ENOUGH FOR YOU
PAIRING popular bf! sunghoon x f!reader GENRE angst no comfort, childhood friends to lovers to exes, highschool AU WARNING wonyoung hating sunghoon XTRA not as angsty as my other drabbles but..., not proofread, probably some grammar mistakes WC 1.3k series masterlist
june 2nd, 2002
"stop moping around and eat your sandwich"
wonyoung snickered, mac and cheese muffling her voice as your head laid restlessly on the metal ( probably dirty and oily) cafeteria table.
"like seriously, its been five days since he last messaged you. i always knew he was a jerk, pretty privilege is real! hes nothing but a ken doll with the way his words are filled with nonsense"
"leave him alone" you groaned, head still down, you could practically feel the acne screaming from underneath your skin "hes a nice guy, probably just busy"
"busy my ass, dont you see the way he literally follows that loser group like an overgrown chihuahua? if he can make time to buy booze for a bunch of 17 year olds then he can for sure make time for his amazing, smart and pretty girlfriend" wonyoung rolled her eyes as she stuffed bland coleslaw in her mouth
you looked up, dark bags adoring your face, you had been in a relationship with sunghoon since your freshman year. as children, you both had been inseparable ever since you moved to salt lake city, your bond growing stronger with each passing year. but now, as juniors, things felt different. he had recently joined the popular crowd, the same crowd you both used to talk shit about in between classes, and friday nights had become synonymous with parties and new faces.
tried so hard to be everything that you liked
the change had been gradual at first, but you couldn't help but notice how sunghoon had become the center of attention, attracting the gazes of both girls and sweaty boys alike. his charismatic smile and magnetic personality drew people towards him like moths to a flame, leaving you feeling like a mere extra and shadow in his presence.
but it was the encounters with the prettier, more popular girls that cut you to the core. you couldn't help but compare yourself to them, questioning if you were really deserving for sunghoon. the doubts grew louder with each unanswered message, as sunghoon seemed to drift further away.
you only sighed
"lets get this over with. you, pretty girl, find your ogre looking piece of shit of a boyfriend and im gonna stay at the entrance" wonyoung ordered sternly, her voice growing darker as she described your boyfriend
unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer and seeing you drown in the growing pool of self pity, wonyoung suggested going to the party where sunghoon tweeted where he was going to be at. maybe seeing him in person would provide some clarity. and so, you found yourself at the heart of the celebration, searching for a glimpse of the person who held your heart.
the night was filled with laughter and music as you stood in the midst of the crowded party. but amidst the lively atmosphere, a heavy sense of unease settled in your heart. you couldn't help but feel like a walking shell of sadness with the absence and lack of your boyfriend's warmth, your messages left unanswered for days dont make your overthinking self feel better either. the persistent doubt gnawed like an aggressive parasite in your mind, making you question if you were truly enough for him.
you found someone more exciting the next second, you were gone
it didn't take long for your eyes to land on him. sunghoon stood near the punch bowl, a radiant smile on his face as he engaged in a conversation with the head cheerleader joonhee. your heart sank at the sight, your fears of being replaceable seemingly coming true, his laughter and the way he touched her arm with familiarity stung deeply in your soul.
"1,2,3 breathe, 1,2,3 breathe" you whispered shakingly to yourself with closed eyes, trying to calm the storm inside of you
overwhelmed by heartache, you couldn't stand to witness any more. and so, running through the backdoor and through drunk teenagers, your breath came in ragged gasps as tears welled up slowly, refusing to fall, just like your pride. you couldn't bear to be in that suffocating environment any longer. the cool night air embraced you as you reached your car, parked in lee heeseungs empty suburb's parking lot.
as you sat in the car, your emotions overflowed, tears still threatened to fall freely as your soul filled with rage and betrayal. it was in that moment, surrounded by darkness and engulfed by doubt, that your vulnerability took hold. the floodgates of your emotions burst open, and a stream of tears cascaded down your cheeks. each tear held your deepest fears and insecurities, each sob a cry for validation and reassurance.
and you left me there cryin', wonderin' what I did wrong
"fucking shit" you sighed as incoming calls of wonyoung flooded your notifications. "should've listened to her, huh?" humorless laughter echoed in your crammy dark dimmed toyota. the silence was unbearable, fuelling the whispers in your head that you were not enough and you havent been good enough for him for a while. that you had lost sunghoon to someone who was prettier, much more interesting than you. but deep down, a glimmer of strength began to flicker within you
"why wasn't I enough?" you whispered, the words escaping your lips like a desperate plea. in the depths of your pathetic despair, you couldn't comprehend how you had fallen short, how you had failed to capture sunghoons attention and affection.
the car's small interior offered a temporary solace, shielding you from the actions of the world outside. the emptiness of the parking lot mirrored the emptiness you felt within, making the pain that coursed through your veins grow stronger. you gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white as you tried to steady your trembling body (and if you were your friend, how you were going to run over your boyfriend)
but as the minutes ticked by, you began to actually listen to the daily "you're enough, you're enough. you deserve all the love and happiness in the world, from someone much better" mantra of your friend, realizing that your worth did not hinge on Sunghoon's approval.
you were more than just a measure of your relationship. you were a person with dreams, aspirations, and a heart that deserved to be cherished, regardless of whether it was by sunghoon or someone else.
with each tear that fell, a flicker of resilience ignited within you. screw him, you refused to let your doubts created by him define you. you refused to believe that you were not enough. slowly, you wiped away the tears, your reflection in the rearview mirror revealing tired and empty eyes
Taking a deep breath, you whispered to yourself, "I am enough, i am enough, i am enough. I am deserving of love and happiness." the words hung in the air, the words a combat fighting the doubts that had plagued your mind.
Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?
"and i deserve if from someone who values me" your voice cracked, dried tears threatening to fall again
as you started the car, the engine's purr resonated with newfound determination. you drove away from the empty parking lot, leaving behind the doubts and heartache that had consumed you. and as you navigated the darkened streets, a flicker of hope emerged, lighting your path towards self-discovery (having a midlife crisis at the ripe age of seventeen is normal, right?) and a love that would celebrate your true worth.
'Cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else
incoming messages!
wony (12 new messages, 3 unanswered calls)
hoonie <333 (3 new messages) OPEN
hoonie <333: i saw you at heeseungs
hoonie <333: its not what it looked like, yn
hoonie <333: you know i only love you
are you sure you want to block 'hoonie <333'?
PROCEED ✓ CANCEL
PERM TAGLIST @misokei @avocarua @sngvhs @essmarye @haechansbbg
SERIES' MASTERLIST @flwerfield @hyhees @mrchweeee @j1nniee @mikaluvsyouu @delulu4-life @mora134340 @beomsbeanie @leep0ems @cIphantom-hive @yla-aira @filmofhybe @nishik1
#𝗛𝗧𝗧𝗣𝗦://𝗪𝗪𝗪.𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗥-𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠.𝗖𝗢𝗠#k labels#kflixnet#hyfenet#enhypen headcanons#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen smau#enhypen#sunghoon headcanons#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smau#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon angst
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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — goodbye, my danish sweetheart.
yoo jimin, third year
WARNINGS; objectification, outing, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sexual acts, self-sabotage, cheating, mentions of coercion, power imbalance, victim blaming (2.5k)
yoo jimin hasn't looked in a mirror since alex had left the team.
her best friend, the girl that she trusted, slept with the girl she loved. she didn't care whether or not alex was drunk, whether it was before anything went down between her and yeji.
she knew how jimin felt, how yeji was there for her during her injury, how much their captain helped her. jimin had even told alex how her stomach fluttered whenever she and their captain talked, and how her heart seemed to combust at the thought of yeji visiting her at the hospital.
alex should've known.
"she left the team."
a string of words, one of which should've given her a sense of relief. she longed for the euphoria, and the heavy weight from her chest lifted. jimin thought she would finally breathe the clean air she had desperately wished for.
it was poison, fire and acid mixed and poured down her throat. her lungs burnt, scarred as she struggled to breathe.
it was not only the air, but everything she touched. every surface - steel, metal, skin - seemed to bubble under her corrosive touch. all of the things she touched enveloped in the concoction that plagued her being.
guilt.
jimin had never felt as angry as she ever did. the lava that laid dormant inside her body could no longer sit still. everything had led up to the destruction of her and those around her.
alexandra baek was yoo jimin's best friend.
she knew her secrets, the lengths the younger girl would go to just to hide them. the things the younger volleyball player kept behind a locked door, she willingly let jimin have access to. it was eerily similar, the terror of disappointment shrouded alex the same way it did jimin.
jimin knew her weaknesses, all of them, even the ones that would ruin the younger girl's life.
"why is alex avoiding you?" aeri scrolled through her phone, and jimin could see her reading their texts over. "did you threaten her or something?"
threaten? no, jimin did much worse.
"i didn't."
aeri huffed, clearly not pleased with her answer. she thought this stupid feud would blow over. jimin cherished the younger girl, much like a sister.
she wouldn't throw that away for anyone, much less yeji.
"look, i know the whole thing with yeji is shit right now," aeri started, mentally noting the understatement. "and you're probably pissed at her for leaving the team, but she needs you right now."
jimin closed her eyes, picturing the creature she found staring back at her a few weeks ago. the one with soulless eyes, void of guilt, of compassion. dark brown eyes that only burned rage.
it was her father's eyes in her own.
"jimin..."
she didn't know why she felt like that, why it felt so good to finally erupt, to cause harm and hurt others the way they hurt her.
she was still a good person. jimin knew she had to be. this was just a momentary slip. it was just an accidental mishap.
"jimin." aeri sighed. "her parents found out."
guilt.
she knew.
she was the one who told the baek's about their daughter's fling. jimin had heard the slurs that were thrown over the phone, damning their own child for the things she felt.
she knew, she did it.
shin yuna was getting prettier each day.
she couldn't help but notice how the younger girl seemed to shine on court as of late. she liked the way yuna walk around like she owned the place, even though she clearly didn't. the way she silently smirked to herself whenever she got a kill lured jimin in.
it was like watching herself, without having to look at what she was becoming.
yeji glanced at her ace, grinning at the predatory look in her eye. it was refreshing to see jimin like this, void of morals and thinking only about what would please her.
it was only a matter of time.
"nice view?"
jimin recoiled, eyes harsh on her captain, watching her smirk. she hated how yeji seemed to think that the two of them were similar. of course, she found shin yuna attractive. it was shin yuna.
sue her for staring at yuna's legs.
jimin grumbled under her breath, walking away from yeji and sitting on the bench, near the others.
"bitch."
she couldn't believe that she dated that monster.
"that's odd." yuna stretched, and jimin felt a gnawing pit in her stomach. "yeji-sunbae's usually nice."
the girls in the vicinity glanced at her.
the yeji they knew was angry, hot-headed and rude. she'd rather rip your head off then say thank you for holding the door open. more often than not, yeji actually did yell at you for holding the door open.
"that's only because she wants to sleep with you, yuna." haewon shook her head, drinking from her bottle.
"you think so?" the freshman sat up, smiling coyly. "i mean, i am pretty hot."
jimin's eyes shot to yuna's smile, and she found herself clenching her jaw, biting back a hum of agreement.
what was she doing? she already had y/n. jimin didn't need more. maybe she craved more, but she would never ever cheat.
jimin calmed herself. finding one of her teammates attractive wasn't cheating. she didn't have any romantic feelings for the younger girl, anyway. it was just curiosity.
if jimin happened to imagine yuna in her bed from time to time, so what?
"that's not something to be proud of." chaeryeong muttered. she couldn't believe this was her crush's younger cousin. "that's like being happy a serial killer chose to kill you because you'd look pretty dying."
yuna shrugged. "and?"
"god." haewon could only sigh. out of everyone she's ever met, yuna seemed to be the most insane sane person. "i hope they don't make you captain next year."
jimin frowned, drowning them out as she took her shoes off.
she needed to stop letting yeji get to her. for as long as she's known her, yeji always pushed jimin's buttons. it was endearing at first, yeji claiming that she liked when jimin's eyebrows furrowed, how cute she looked when she frowned.
jimin didn't realize until now that yeji just liked pissing her off. she liked mentally tormenting her for some sick reason. the way the captain shoved her flaws in her face was to anger her, because it was funny.
it wasn't, and it never has been.
she didn't want to focus on yeji, not anymore. not when jimin had finally gotten the perfect girl, the girl that everyone had wanted.
l/n y/n.
she was adorable, caring in a way that jimin had never experienced. she'd constantly check on the older girl, asking about the little things that jimin didn't even think of.
the other day, y/n had even asked her if she ate. when jimin said no, she suggested that the two of them should go out together for food.
she had never experienced that type of care, considering yeji was her first and only relationship before y/n.
jimin glanced at wonyoung, sparing her a glare in which the younger girl returned by the tenfold.
jang wonyoung lucked out. it was a good thing jimin had managed to take what's rightfully hers.
"jimin-sunbae?" yuna asked, pulling jimin's gaze away from the heiress. "you took history of classical dance right?"
jimin nodded. "for my elective, yeah."
"do you have the notes?" yuna's voice sounded sweet, like a peach waiting to be eaten. "i have it this year and gaeul-sunbae refuses to give them to me."
"it's better to learn and write the notes yourself." gaeul muttered, putting on sweats over her shorts. "i told you, if you need help understanding the material after, i can help you study-"
"no." yujin tensed, her voice tight. her once expressive eyes turned firey as she looked at yuna. "i don't want yuna in our dorm. she might steal."
jimin rolled her eyes. yujin had been guarding gaeul like a dog since yeji managed to get her hands on the setter.
(she didn't understand how yeji could go from her to gaeul, considering the two were only similar in vulnerability.)
"i will not!" yuna whined, jimin's ears burning red. "maybe gaeul-sunbae's heart but-"
yujin paused, her body tense as she stood up from the bench. her fists were clenched, and her body language seemed to read pure rage, but jimin could see the way her lip quivered.
"excuse me?"
pain.
jimin had been feeling that recently, too.
"unnie," wonyoung muttered, tugging yujin's hand. jimin could see gaeul purse her lips, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. "sit down before gaeul-unnie scolds you."
yujin grumbled, begrudgingly sitting back down in between gaeul and wonyoung. the oldest of the three seemed down all of a sudden, and jimin wondered how gaeul could stand to be near wonyoung when all she did was take yujin's attention.
jimin hoped that one day, gaeul would wake up and face the horror that was jang wonyoung.
"i can give it to you tomorrow."
"i'll just drop by later." jimin froze. "my first exam's next week."
she didn't know why, but the thought of having yuna in her dorm set her skin on fire. jimin felt like she was suddenly lit by a match, her brain running wild.
she shook her head. jimin didn't need anything else but y/n. the volleyball player felt so emotionally fulfilled by the younger girl, even when their kisses felt empty and when y/n's words felt half-hearted.
"why'd you wait so long?" haewon knew that yuna was gonna bomb the test. "you're gonna fail at this rate."
still, it wouldn't hurt to urge aeri out, to make sure she spends the night with whoever the hell she meets at the club.
"yujin said that i have plenty of time to study."
besides, jimin didn't like yuna. nothing was going to happen.
she wasn't yeji, nor was she her father.
"yujin probably as a 0.1 gpa."
she wasn't a monster.
"i do not!"
even if her mirror told her otherwise.
the most painful thing about the divorce was watching her father leave.
he had gotten her a maroon luggage when she had accepted suma's offer. it was embezzled with a gold zipper, and a metal handle that gleamed against bright light. she took it with her on her first year, putting all her belongings snug inside. she used it to go back home, when her acl ripped in half and she could no longer play.
jimin had also watched it get taken away when her father packed in a rush, her mother crying on their bed begging him to stay, to love them instead of his mistress.
jimin knew if he did, she would have forgiven him.
staying was more important in the end.
a soft knock on the door rattled throughout jimin's empty dorm. she sat up, dressed in semi-decent clothes, breathable and easy to take off.
jimin reached for the door, opening it.
"sunbae."
nothing was gonna happen. she wasn't gonna cheat, especially not with yuna. jimin would never abuse her status, nor disregard her relationship like that.
but something burnt within her, something that resembled her father on a tuesday afternoon.
"yuna, hey." jimin could hear her voice echoing back in her ears, and she wasn't so sure why it sounded so... ravenous. "i left the notes on my desk. you can just grab them."
yuna nodded, her eyes trailing jimin's figure as she stepped inside. the room buzzed with a dull hum as jimin closed the door behind her, yuna walking up to her senior's desk.
jimin walked next to the younger girl, capturing her perfect side profile and ingraining it in her brain.
"how tall are you?"
there was a light in her eyes, something that jimin used to see in hers. it gleamed brightly, reflecting all yuna's wants of perfection, of hope - all of which jimin knew would amount to nothing.
she wanted to be the first one to crush it, to ruin it.
"i'm 169cm." yuna grinned, standing up a little straighter to brag. "my mom said i'm still growing though, so i'm hoping to reach 170cm next sem."
she didn't care about the consequences, not right now. jimin just wanted to break the mirror.
"your mom said that?" it was adorable how yuna seemed so pure with every intention, and jimin couldn't help but wonder if there was something more sinister underneath. "you're cute."
jimin grabbed the binder of notes, her fingertips brushing against the younger girl's as she handed it over.
yuna's eyes glazed over as she froze, and jimin couldn't hear anything but her heartbeat.
just like before, on the phone with the baek's, all she felt was power - an adrenaline rush that overrode her senses. she couldn't feel the pain, nor the guilt.
all she felt was a high like she was midjump, where her eyes were above the net, looking down at everyone who looked down on her.
jimin leaned it, her lips gently on yuna's.
yuna pulled back abruptly, a tug of confusion worming through the lust she felt. "i thought you were with someone."
jimin should've felt guilty. she should've snapped out of it and apologized, ushering yuna out and immediately sending an apology to y/n about what transpired.
"does that bug you?" she whispered, feeling her breath bounce back off of yuna's lips.
she couldn't find it in herself to care anymore, not when it felt this good.
"...no."
jimin deserved to feel good once in a while.
their limbs tangled as yuna lay naked, asleep on top of jimin.
the volleyball player stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with the guilt that seemed to multiply with each breath her junior took.
jimin closed her eyes, tears falling from the sides of her face.
it felt good to have control, to watch someone wither and plead, begging her to instill whatever she wanted onto them. she liked the way yuna was under her, both metaphorically and physically. it gave her a high that no one, not even y/n could provide.
it was like ruining herself, punishing herself for everything wrong with her life.
still, the guilt managed to burrow its way through.
she wondered if y/n would react the same way as her mother, or if she would go run back to wonyoung, tears in her eyes as she cried and cried.
she couldn't let that happen,
besides, it wasn't actually cheating. jimin never once let yuna touch her. she would never let anyone but the girl she was with strip her power away from her.
even if she did, jimin would never think once about leaving y/n.
y/n was everything she wanted, in soul, body, and mind. she'd be stupid to ruin the trophy that she had worked so hard to win.
jimin wasn't her father. she wasn't going to leave. she was a good person, searching for good things in her life.
she shouldn't feel guilty. she had nothing to feel sorry for. jimin did nothing wrong. she couldn't have, otherwise, she was no better than her deadbeat father.
she wasn't her father. she couldn't be, she wouldn't let herself be.
jimin closed her eyes, drowning out the sound of yuna's breathing.
rage had consumed yoo jimin, and there was no turning back.
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taglist (CLOSED)!!
@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr
#jang wonyoung x reader#ive x reader#iz*one x reader#izone x reader#aespa x reader#kpop x reader#idol x reader#silantryo
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'five senses of them' (sight taste smell touch sound)
♡ kokomi, miko, sara, ayaka, yoimiya. cw fem reader, men and fetishizers dni
this is my first smut & not proofed so pls be nice :)c
kokomi is always gorgeous, but she seems the most beautiful when you have two fingers buried inside her, hands clutching the bedsheets as her long eyelashes flutter. face flushed red, breath coming quick and shallow; every time you curl your fingers, her back arches and her lips part silently.
the only sound she can get out is heaving breaths, she looks so perfect even in this state that you had to be impressed, long, silken hair tangled and legs spread just for you. you want to knot your hand into that hair and pull -- just a bit, just to see her reaction, when everything she does is so elegant and graceful, this is like a dream come true.
you consider wiping away the tears leaking from her eyes as you go faster and faster, pumping in and out of her without any mercy or hesitation, so she can see you properly. you want her to see the person who's turned her from a dignified priestess into a slut for your fingers.
"ah -- ah, i'm almost -- " she manages to get out as you increase the speed, unable to speak and simply drawing in air, thrusting her hips upwards into your hand with the little strength she has left. she's almost there, just a little bit longer and you're more than happy to get her there.
her thighs twitch and her pretty pink lips open in a silent scream, her whole body trembling. as she collapses into your waiting arms, you press a kiss to her forehead, feeling her fluids gush over your hand as you pull out.
"mm... " she mumbles, exhausted after chasing her high for so long, tears rolling down her cheeks. you think to yourself, she looks even prettier than usual with cum leaking from between her thighs, eyes blinking tiredly. "haah... you... "
kokomi, who always kept up appearances no matter what, reduced to a sobbing mess in your bed. all you can do is laugh, swirling your fingers into your mouth, enjoying the taste and then pulling them out with a pop.
"yes, just like that baby," miko sighs, leaning back against the headboard as you suck at her wet cunt. she shakes her bangs out of her eyes and presses her palm against your hair, ready to push your head further between her thighs if needed.
you roll the bud of her clit between your teeth and even if you couldn't hear her delighted sigh, chest heaving, you can feel her physical reaction to it, the liquids pooling faster underneath your tongue, a natural lubricant for your drooling mouth that doesn't even need it.
she reaches up and tugs the fabric of her shirt down, playing with one of her nipples, and swipes her tongue over the top of her mouth. you smile, still buried in her thighs, and nip at her and she bites down so hard on her cheek to stifle a moan that she tastes blood, coppery and metallic.
"my my, i never thought you could -- mmf!" her sly, teasing words are cut off as you circle her opening with the tip of your tongue, pressing her lips together to silence herself. you make it your personal goal to get her to voice her pleasure by the time this is over.
her heavy breaths quicken as you swirl your tongue faster, taking in every inch of her soft folds, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the ceiling. her cunt is so addictive and you never want to stop tasting it, oh god you could drink yourself to death on it. and you need her to know, working so hard to please her so you get it all to yourself.
"yes yes yes," she gasps, bucking her hips up into your waiting lips. "oh, darling, you -- yes oh archons yes -- " and her wetness spills from her, it pools into your eager mouth as she reaches her orgasm, clutching your hair between her tightening fingers.
the taste is delicious, a mix of sweetness and saltiness that you can't get enough of, pressing your tongue against her slit to lap it all up like a cat with milk. you circle her opening, licking for every bit of it and she twitches slightly with every movement.
"a-ah, that's -- " she sucks in a breath, hand hovering over your head. "you've still got energy for more? then, in that case... "
your sara smells like rain and lightning, a warm smoky scent like a storm is about to roll in. you made a point of how much you like it before by burying your face in her neck and taking a deep breath in. but you never knew just how delightful her other scents could be too.
her shampoo is like flowers and melon and you can happily say that you love it as you twine your fingers through her hair and tug her head down, kissing and sucking all along the skin of her throat and chest.
a spark jumps from her fingertip as she palms your chest under your shirt, sending a burst of shivers down your spine. you bite down and savor the feeling of softness underneath your teeth, causing her to gasp. she feels your lips curve into a grin against her skin.
you suck on her collarbone for a moment, and she whines slightly, squirming under you. her hands tighten on your breasts, squeezing in a vaguely pleasant way. "there you go, sweetheart," you hum, "so you like it when i do that?"
"y-yes," she breathes as you lean forward, nipping at her chest. there's a heady intoxicating scent of sweat and arousal and smoke that's just so hot you can barely stop yourself from devouring her. you leave her a bite mark for every trace of that deliciousness, delighting in her writhing under you with her cheeks painted red.
you feel the muscles of her stomach clench as she gets closer and closer, grasping your shoulders with sharp nails, and it's almost funny just how sensitive she is. "please -- please, you -- " she gets out as you reach up, kissing a line down to her breasts, and when you bite down on her nipple you can feel her hips tense underneath.
"go ahead," you whisper, cupping her face in your hand and smothering her in a kiss, tugging on her lower lip, "i wanna hear you, sweetheart."
her breath is warm and sweet on your face as she cries out, falling back onto the bed. even in the midst of her orgasm she smells delectable, you want to press your face into her chest and just lick and suck and bite on her until she's all yours, even if no one can see it underneath her armor she'll know that the tengu warrior was teased to cumming with only your teeth.
"you came with me barely touching you," you smirk, hooking your finger under her chin and forcing her to look up. "you want to go for round two?"
"always," she says, exhausted and struggling to sit up, and you want to ruin her.
she's so fragile and delicate, like a sakura blossom that can be ruined with just one slash. you can feel your darling ayaka trembling under your hands. her long icy blue hair is falling over her back and you have to brush it out of the way to reach her skin. every time you touch her she squeaks.
"you're so sensitive," you whisper, dragging one finger down her spine. you haven't even started touching her yet. "are you always like this, or is it just for me?"
"j-just for you," she whimpers, fingernails scrabbling at the table you have her bent over. "just for you, so please -- haah!" she moans so loudly as you push one finger into her, you think everyone in the manor must have heard, but you can't bring yourself to care.
you lean forward slightly, plunging it in and out with a teasing smile and saying in a quieter tone, "do you like how it feels? do you want me to do more?"
she manages to get out, "y-yess," as her eyes go wide, face flushed and managing to soften her cries just a bit. the feeling of being inside her is so addicting, able to control her pleasure so easily, and she's so cute, so soft and warm and wet as you pump your fingers into her.
you brush your finger over her clit, and her knees buckle, letting out a gasp. you have to hold her up. having this much power is almost intoxicating. "thankyouthankyouthankyou," she sobs, pushing back onto your hand and it's so adorably amateurish.
she's so dainty, you don't want to hurt her. you don't want to break her. but every time she does something like that you fall a little bit more for her and it's so hard to hold yourself back. you want to give her pleasure, so that she knows what it's like to feel good. and it's so easy.
you add one more finger, and when she screams your name, going limp with eyes rolling back in her head, you can feel every bit of the tremors in her slight frame.
even when you're between her thighs, yoimiya never stops talking. you're not complaining of course; she's got such a cute voice, so bubbly and warm and way too hot as she gasps and whines in between words.
"a-an' today me and -- ah! -- me and thoma from the yashiro commission ran into each other at the market s-so we -- haah -- we talked for a little bit and," she breaks off into a moan, thighs tensing.
"what did i say?" you pull back and you can see her fluids dripping from her needy hole. she sobs, struggling to sit up, face flushed. "t-to keep talking, i'm sorry so don't stop i -- " she moans again, even louder as you plunge back in.
her choked squeaks make you smile against her folds, her whole body so hot it almost hurts to touch. your fingers are digging into her plush thighs, soft and full of heat like marshmallows almost. maybe it'll show tomorrow; the thought makes you circle her clit, the idea of tiny red marks on her legs wherever you touched her is so delicious.
"g-go faster," she manages between whimpers, "you feel so nice -- it's -- " you heed her request and speed up, licking over her opening quicker and it only elicits more noises from her, teary mewling and begging you to speed up as she approaches her climax.
she's never silent for a moment, always making sounds like she's in pain but you know it might be the most intense pleasure of her life. "i wanna cum, i wanna," she babbles, fingers tangling in the bedsheets and white knuckled with her desperate grip.
you decide to take pity on her -- no matter how much you love hearing her, it's not fair to keep dragging it on when she's pleading with you to make her cum, and you drag your tongue over her slit, circling it as her voice speeds up, until finally you slip the tip of your tongue into it and you feel her hips twitch.
"please -- " the words are cut off by a long, sobbing whine, back arching as her vision goes white, thighs clenching your head. the sound of her begging voice so arousing it makes you dizzy. "please please yes it feels so good feels so good feels so -- haaah -- !"
#mine#kokomi x reader#kokomi smut#yae miko x reader#yae miko smut#kujou sara x reader#kujou sara smut#ayaka x reader#ayaka smut#yoimiya smut#yoimiya x reader
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Cinder is jealous. She's jealous of her step-sisters. They have pretty clothes and soft hands and a doting mother. She has none of which. Her sister Peony is her only human friend and even seeing her in a ballgown sparks "envy" in Cinder, because Peony gets a dress and can go to the ball. Cinder can't.
She doesn't believe she could be pretty. She's too clunky, she's not curvy. She pins it down to being cyborg or just naturally inadequate. Cinder doesn't have nice clothes or fancy things. Kai gives her gloves and they are "the most beautiful thing she had ever owned." And then they are ruined, like all the pretty things in her life. She has to survive, endure, and with that she doesn't have time for prettiness.
But Kai's first impression of her is that she's "cute" and "pretty." He calls her pretty in public, and he calls her pretty in his private thoughts. "Your pretty new mechanic in the lobby", "the pretty young mechanic at the market." He finds her gorgeous with her glamour, and his "knees threatened to buckle" in her beauty. Everyone else thought she was gorgeous, but no one was swooning the way he was. The glamour had amplified the attraction he'd already had towards her.
Thorne, upon seeing a cyborg stumble into his jail cell, has the first instinct to flirt with her. Not recoil, because of her metal and skin, but flirt because she's a girl and that's his favourite pastime. And what distinguished her from the many other pretty girls he normally flirted with? To him, "her irritation made her prettier". Her disgruntled personality, who she is, is her prettiness.
Adri tells Cinder that if she can't cry, she can't feel love. She does love, she loves so much, but she doesn't have time to grieve her sister or her anonymity or her freedom when she has a revolution to start. She has to tough it out.
When she's bound up in Kai's arms she feels safe, delicate, "almost like a princess."
Cinder pretends she doesn't have a crush on Kai because having a crush on a celebrity is "preadolescent," the trademark of immature, lovesick teenage girls. How can she be girly when she's a grimy mechanic? She "doesn't know the first thing about makeup", because do you think Adri would have ever let her buy some to try? Would Cinder have even bothered, believing nothing could improve a cyborg?
She dreams of "going to the ball and dancing with the prince." And when Iko teases her, Cinder says, "we all have our weaknesses". It is a weakness to be in love, because someone like Kai couldn't love her. She imagines being at the ball, "jealous of the girls who swooned to catch Prince Kai's attention." Jealous that they can be open with their attraction, jealous that he would pick them over her.
But he loves her. And when he does, she can't process the feeling "of being desired". She wants to carve 'C + K' into a wall, then berates herself for such "whimsy." Because deep down, she's always wanted to be wanted, and that truth is her weakness. But war doesn't last forever, and soon, she has no reason to hide that. There's no reason it would be a weakness.
Cinder is comfortable in baggy cargo pants and messy hair but she also dreams of wearing a beautiful ballgown. She loves her coronation dress. She calls the empress crown 'stunning.'
She never becomes obsessed with frills or glitter, but she slowly leans into soft, pretty things. She has a necklace from Kai and her engagement ring. It's sparkly and yet, Cinder, the so-called 'tough, aloof tomboy' thinks it makes her metal hand look "elegant". Maybe she starts wearing bracelets and earrings because they don't bother her when she isn't working on something mechanical. She doesn't even notice until Thorne jokes that she wears more metal in jewellery than the whole metal of her hand.
Maybe she buys herself a new set of tools with pink and blue iridescent handles simply because finds them pretty. Maybe when her friends tease her about how in love she is, she starts to acknowledge it.
Cinder is not some stereotype of a leading female character who is strong and as such cannot be feminine or soft or emotional. Was she given the chance to be?
Let her be soft. Let her be delicate. Let her pretty.
#tlc#the lunar chronicles#lunar chronicles#linh cinder#selene blackburn#emperor kai#kaider#carswell thorne#ive had this sitting in my drafts for years#dont know why i never finished#i clearly had too much to say
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how do think willow and hunter first talked about them being bi/pan? or do you think it's just so accepted on the boiling isles that they probably would never bring it up?
(This ask is from back when we got the bi/pan confirmation and I've been saving it, kinda thinking of putting effort into writing something cute and good quality. However I ended up waking up from a nap while the Q&A was happening and somebody told my confused disoriented ass that Zeno was talking about Hunter exploring his identity and going on dates while in the human realm. And I tapped out something very messy and stream of consciousness-y in my notes app in my sleepy state. So you're getting this instead. I don't feel like cleaning it up.)
Like like like it's. Luz putting together her little coming out slideshow for Camila. And the topic of sexualities comes up. And Amity and Willow puzzle out what theirs are nearly immediately. Gus doesn't but he's unfazed by it. While Hunter is like....I...can't say for certain and its bothering me. Like this is a THING that has a chance of helping him feel like more of a person. He wants his very own flag. He just doesn't know what it is yet. He'd like to know.
He likes Willow. He knows he likes Willow. But...there isn't a flag for liking Willow. (As far as he knows. He's thinking of making one. But for now he's stumped.)
There's a very specific route the kids take to the grocery store to collect stuff for Camila. Hunter likes to take the task because he likes feeling useful. Willow also likes to help but she'd be lying if she said another reason wasn't long walks with Hunter. Usually one of the other kids tags along too. Or more than one. But today it's just Hunter and Willow.
They always pass that damn statue but Hunter always averts his eyes and hopes Willow does too. He doesn't like to look at it. But maybe if he turned his gaze towards it every once in a while he'd notice the boy who always sits beneath the statue with a little handheld game console. The boy who always lifts his head when Hunter strolls by.
This is the day when the boy chooses to be brave. There's no gaggle of friends around him today. Just one girl. This is it. This is his chance. The boy marches up to Hunter and Willow in a way that Hunter immediately clocks as similar to his own Golden Guard body language. When he was trying to feel big but failing miserably.
The boy IS big tho. That's the weird thing. Tall with broad shoulders and chunky arms. A cluster of metal pierced into his left ear and a silver stud in his nose. He looks....so cool. So very very cool. Hunter misses the first words out of this dude's mouth cuz he was too busy looking at him and he needs to repeat himself.
So. Hm. Okay. Well. APPARENTLY. Piercings boy thinks Hunter is cute. Which is a staggering revelation that leaves Hunter a little speechless. And if that weren't surprising enough, he's now pushing a little piece of paper in Hunter's direction, babbling something about talking some time. Or maybe going out, whatever.
While all this is going down Willow just.....watches. Smiling. Nudging Hunter when it's his turn to speak and he's forgotten. It's cute. He gets like that with her sometimes too. It made her feel very cool and pretty that she made such a handsome boy nervous. But now....she's watching this little interaction play out and she's realizing....
Hunter's obvious little crush on her. Just how easy would it go away if he met somebody cooler. Somebody prettier. Somebody who's not clearly living a lie and hiding everything from everyone all the time. Somebody brave enough to actually ask him out.
It seems like just as she's getting comfortable in these kinds of situations, an Amity always sweeps in. And that's fine. She's used to it by now.
And also...she....she really cares about Hunter. He's been getting so much happier and experimental in the Human Realm. She wants him to try new things. She wants him to figure out who he really is. And....maybe that version of himself won't always have a little crush on Willow Park. Maybe he'll realize that there's better people out there. And that's okay. Whatever it takes for him to smile.
There's something very ugly writhing in her stomach and Willow pretends it's not there. Instead she yanks up her smile wider and as the mystery boy strides away, she pounces on Hunter. She teases him a little, she asks why he got so very shy. Is it because he liiiiiiiikes Mr Mystery Boy huh? And Hunter doesn't know what to say. He doesn't KNOW Mr Mystery Boy. Willow counters that's what the number is for. That's what dates are for. After a long back-and-forth discussion, its Willow that urges him to dial that number. They have to borrow Camila's phone. And Willow stands there as moral support as Hunter stumbles through the question.
Hunter has a date this Saturday. Which is very exciting. And also weird. And scary. He blushes whenever you bring it up. But Willow happily hypes him up for it every day leading up to it.
On Saturday, Hunter leaves the house at mid day and Willow sees him off, waving enthusiastically. He smiles softly and waves back at her, still twitchy with nerves. She gives a finger guns and assures him it's gonna go fine. He's a catch! This makes him giggle and she swells with pride.
The door clicks shut. Hunter is gone. It feels like a light has been sucked out of the household. Willow's smile slips.
She could head upstairs and hang out with the other girls. She could go down to the basement with Gus. But....right now she'd prefer to be alone.
Willow cleans the kitchen, which Camila is very grateful for once she gets home from work. And then she settles in the living room, snuggles up on the couch and throws something on the TV. Willow sits there and watches for hours. She barely processes any of it. And yet, she's simultaneously so wrapped up in the television that she doesn't hear the door click.
"Eyyyyy, I'm back," Hunter says in that awkward way he always announces his return. And just like that, a light switches and Willow is all zazzed again.
"Ooooooh Casanova has returned!!" She chirps. "A little.....earlier than I expected....?"
Hunter looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on that. Willow thumps the couch cushion opposite her. "Cmere boy. Tell me everything."
Hunter sits down beside her and after turning to look at her huge grin, he smiles warmly.
"What?" She asks.
"Nothing."
"You gonna tell me how it went?"
"Fine. Um. Normal. For a date. I think? I dunno I've never been on one but I'm pretty sure I did an okay job."
Willow decides to rip the bandaid off immediately. "Any lip action?"
Hunter's reaction was a funny choking noise and a volatile flush across his neck "No!" He blurted. "Just...."
"Juuuuust?"
"Just hands! He held my hand! He held my hand and it was nice! I liked it!"
"Oh."
It's nice that Hunter got his hand held. He has such pretty hands. She's always thought they were very holdable. She's really happy. She's delighted. Just great.
She's a good person who is happy when good things happen to her friends, Titandamn it. And not a secretly ugly resentful person who wishes for selfish things.
"Yeah and. Uh..." He's scrubbing the back of his neck. "We...um. Ended up talking. A lot."
"About date number two, no doubt...." Willow sings.
"There's not going to be a date number two," Hunter answers immediately, knocking Willow out of her depth.
.....huh?
"I....thought you liked him?" She asks.
"I mean. Yeah. He's. He's nice but...but when I said we talked a lot...I might have told him that...." Hunter trails away.
"Told him what?"
There's a pause before Hunter speaks again, his voice a little higher pitched. "Oh! J-just. Just told him about a ton of stuff. Told him I like birds. And I like to read. And...and about Camila being a vet and....and I talked a lot about my friends. Gus. A-and Luz and Amity. And Vee. And uh. And you. And....we...we both decided that this probably wasn't gonna work out."
"Oh...." Willow....doesn't know how to feel about this. She doesn't have to pretend to be disappointed because she really is. Her friend had a chance to have a sweet little romance with somebody cute. And it just didn't work out. "I'm sorry, Hunter,"
But Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not disappointed. I actually....um. I liked it. I've never been on a date before and it....I dunno, it made me feel like a real teenager. Which is dumb to say because I know I AM a real teenager but..."
He perks up. "Oh! Oh and-and um...." His words tumble one over the other though there's a grin tugging at the corner of his lip. "Josh and I we....we figured it out. Me. We...we figured out me. I'm..."
He catches himself and clears his throat, extending a hand to her. "Hi, Willow! My name is bisexual!...Wait! Wait, no! Hunter! My name is....I'm bisexual and I'm Hunter! I...Agh!! Josh said I should come out to you in a smooth way but...."
Willow is grinning ear to ear, always transfixed by his frequent fumbles over the complicated act of putting words together. "You're bisexual!" She declares happily. "Hunter that's fantastic!"
Hunter's smile is soft but there's a hint of pride there too. "Yeah...thanks. I know it is...."
A pause.
"I have completely forgotten what bisexual means tho," Admits Willow.
"O-oh! Oh it's just um. I-I like multiple genders. Today I found out for certain that boys are....wow...."
Willow smirks. "Boys are wow?"
"Well.....arent they?"
She thinks about it for a moment, raking her eyes across the splotchy blush still clinging to his pretty face. Her insides are in a riot of fluttering flower petals.
"I guess they are," She agrees fondly.
"But also I...." He cuts himself off with a sudden bout of breathlessness. He inhales sharply. "Girls..."
"Girls," Repeats Willow expectantly.
Hunter, who has cut his gaze down to his tangling fingers, looks back up at her, manages to hold eye contact for a few very telling extra seconds and says, very clearly. "Girls."
"I see..." Willow is a little frustrated to find that she's also a little short of breath. "So maybe your next date will be with a girl then,"
Hunter's blush flares. "I'd like it to be..." He mumbles. "But..."
"Buuuuuut?"
There's some sort of internal battle raging on. She can see it in the violent twist and turns of his facial expressions. Finally, his throat bobs. "Nothing." He answers.
"Sorry...." He continues. "For coming home early. I just really wanted to...." Why does he keep trailing off? "It looks like you were trying to have some time to yourself. I can leave if...."
"You stay right here, Mr heartbreaker," Says Willow. "Stay here and watch weird human crystal ball shows with me."
A stiffness she didn't notice until now melts out of his shoulders. "Okay. I'd like that. A lot."
Hunter attempts to shuffle into a comfortable position, but what he's not prepared for is his friend Willow suddenly lunging and knocking him against the cushions in a tight tackle hug.
"Congratulations on your name being Bisexual," She mutters against the fabric of his shirt. "I like being the first one told,"
"N-no problem...." His voice cracks a little.
It takes maybe three minutes of comfortable silence and human realm TV babbling for Hunter to pipe up "And I'm not a heartbreaker. I didn't break anyone's heart."
"You could," Willow answers smoothly, not taking her eyes off the TV. "You have way more power over some people's hearts than you realize."
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astro boy - y.itadori
part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection
…
warnings - my shonen trope writing is showing, idk stink monster?
word count - 1.2 K / rating - PG
“This is disgusting!” Nobara huffs, stomping down on the cracked pavement below, “And they couldn’t have given us temporary uniforms or something?!”
Megumi shrugs, but the crinkle in his brows and the downturn of his lips cannot hide his revulsion, “Not like we can just back out now.”
Yuuji and yourself, meanwhile, are crouched over the manhole cover that Ijichi said you’d need to go down. You look at the boy, head tilted, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah!” he jumps up, clapping his hands, “I can get it no problem.”
“If you’re sure…” you slink back, nudging toward Nobara and Megumi as Yuuji kneels back down and slithers his fingers into the cover's holes.
He’s so sure. It might even impress you, how he’s able to so casually throw aside an entire manhole cover. You were the first person to welcome him to Tokyo. It helps that he finds you even prettier than Jennifer Lawrence, and even though he’s never gotten the honor to meet her: he’s certain you’re nicer, too. You just have to be.
“Is your back okay? You lifted with your legs, right?!” you rush over as soon as Yuuji’s tossed the metal disc.
You’re like an angel, after all.
“Yeah, ‘m all good!”
Megumi comes up between the both of you, nodding towards the sewer’s gaping maw. If this were a children’s cartoon, then you imagine toxic chartreuse fumes would be ribboning out in thick streams. You’re worried the stench may cling to your clothes.
“I’ll go down first, then you and Kugisaki, and Itadori - you’ll be last.”
Nobara lays her cheek against your shoulder from behind, “Huh? Trying to be a gentleman, Fushiguro?”
“I just don’t want you idiots making us fill out injury reports,” he grumbles, already waist-deep into the darkness and continuing down.
“Hey!” Nobara snaps, shuffling by you and Yuuji to go down the metal rungs, “Don’t you dare look up!”
Just before he sinks completely into the murky black, you catch Megumi’s aggravated grunt of, “As if I would ever…”
“Well, guess it’s my turn,” you hold Yuuji’s arm for balance as you slot your foot securely over one of the lower rungs, beaming up at him with a quickly chirped, “thanks!” before releasing him.
Yuuji can barely feel the lower half of his face with how hard he’s cheesing, but he certainly feels the thunder in his chest. His eyes follow you down, a breathy, wide-eyed, “yeah, no problem…” to pair with your gratitude.
“God, I can’t see anything…” he hears Nobara as his eyes take their time adjusting to the dark.
“Here, there’s…” the electric buzz and hum of a flickering flashlight, Megumi hits the shuddering bulb before it sparks to life and stays on, “this.”
Yuuji looks out at his group, the faint glow of Megumi’s flashlight glistens along their faces. Then it illuminates the dark, puddled pavement below their feet. Then the murky stew of browns and greens flowing to their collective right. Then straight ahead.
“Ah, shit.”
What Yuuji hears next is a sharp, piercing shrill from Nobara as she and Megumi are snatched by the ankles, and sucked into the gelatinous, translucent, vaguely putrid body of a curse. A gasp follows it, you shuffle back with a hurried look over your shoulder, reaching out for him. Like a nightmare, then, you’re pulled into the revolting, jiggly mass.
“Itadori!” is the last he hears you shriek.
That singe of fear down his spine is still apparent, even though this is far from being his first mission, but the sight of his friends floating, trapped in that goo is more compelling. He switches the weight on his feet, hands balling so tightly his nails snag into the meat of his palms.
“I’ll save you!” he’s referring to the group, but for some odd reason he only looks up at you, “I swear it!”
The blob wiggles with its giggling, a singular eye tearing over Yuuji’s smaller frame. A waft of frozen air curls through the sewer sending shivers racking through the boy’s body.
Above him, the curse’s voice echoes between sewage drips, layered like a scratchy, out-of-pitch choir, “Bring… a… jacket…!”
Another shiver, unrelated to the temperature, racks through him. Yuuji isn’t sure he’ll ever be accustomed to those chittering tones.
Instead, he swallows his fear and dips low, ready to launch himself forward with cursed energy coursing through his fists.
The curse lashes droopy, bubbling tentacles at Yuuji, but they are no match for the sputtering, repeated blows of the boy’s attacks. He strikes decisively and quickly, ferociously battering against the flabby curse until it rolls back: squelching and crying.
Foam leaks from the flattened bottom, bubbles rise to the surface, and the whole curse wriggles once. Then twice.
Its eye widens.
“So… cold…!”
And it pops.
Putrid, green slime bursts over Yuuji. Weighing his clothes down and slicking back sections of his hair. After clearing the fluids from both eyes, Yuuji rushes towards you.
“Are you okay?”
Yuuji uses the dry pads of his thumbs to swipe the slime off of your face, then carefully lifts your crumpled form by your forearms. He lets his hands linger, masquerading the need for your skin on his as concern.
“Hm,” you can still smell the morbid rot of the curse’s body around yours, “Yeah, I think I’m okay…”
His honeyed eyes are glassy, they scrounge over your body to double-check. As if you would miss some gaping flesh wound that he wouldn’t. Finally, he meets your gaze, and the pinched nature of his expression drops, a contented smile taking its place.
“Good,” he speaks softly, so unlike his natural boisterous greed for attention.
“You know,” Megumi calls, “We were in there, too.”
Nobara kicks the back of Yuuji’s knee, sending him into the frosty concrete below, “At least try to hide your favoritism, huh?!”
“It’s like you were only trying to save one of us,” Megumi smacks Yuuji up his head.
“Well then,” you lean down, arms circling Yuuji’s neck as he kneels before you. You press your slimy face against his, “I guess he’s only my hero!”
“Barf!” Nobara gags, already waving both of you off as she plucks her uniform from sticking against her skin, “This better come out, Fushiguro!”
“Why is it my fault?!”
“You were supposed to be our leader!”
The two continue to bicker as you pull Yuuji up from the ground, “Good job being the only one not caught, Itadori.”
He beams at the praise, warmth fluttering through his chest and tickling all down the ladder of his ribs, “It was nothing!” his fingers itch to card through yours, “I just wanted to make sure you three were safe.”
“Of course, we were,” you take the initiative and squeeze his hand in yours, “You were here to save us…” you laugh to yourself, refraining from a brutal cringe at the lingering scent of death from the curse’s remains, “Even though you’re the newest one to this.”
Yuuji wants to say something suave. Something to knock you off your feet and into his arms, but he is interrupted.
“Come on!” Megumi twists a hand into the cherry fabric of Yuuji’s hoodie, yanking the boy along, “We need to make sure the place is empty now.”
“Go easy on him!” you shout, and Yuuji grins at your defense.
Nobara loops an arm through yours, pulling you flush against her side, “I’m so not looking forward to washing this out…”
Eyes still on Yuuji trying (and failing) to scramble onto both feet while Megumi pulls him, you nod slowly with a faint smile gracing your lips, “Yeah, totally…”
“Hey! Pay attention when I speak!”
“Yeah, totally…”
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuji itadori x reader#yuji x reader#itadori x reader#jjk movie marathon event
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you write eddie so well 💕 would u consider doing pt.2 to the boob post with pierced nips
bestie i’m so glad u asked this i could talk abt eddie’s boob obsession for days
let’s just establish that eddie definitely goes feral for some pierced nips okay (i personally imagine he goes feral for piercings in general but that’s another topic for another day)
the thing is, eddie knew your nipples are pierced, and he knew this because he can see them through all of your shirts, and it takes everything in him to not go brain dead or have tunnel vision on your tits 25/8. he also knows this because he can feel them whenever you press your chest to him; whether that be during an innocent hug or whenever you’re laid against him in bed wearing shorts and that sinful little tank top you always wear to sleep.
so he knows they’re pierced, and he’s quite literally going insane trying to keep his thoughts at bay. he lets a few comments slip here and there, “looking good today girls, happy to see me huh.” he giggles when you swat at his chest before covering your own with your arms, mumbling something along the lines of ‘you’re so annoying.’
and when the day finally comes that eddie sees your boobs in all their glory, he almost cries tears of joy. you’re laying beneath him when he removes your shirt and leans back as he tosses it to the side, shamelessly gaping down at your chest.
“holy shit…the holy fucking grail in the flesh…” shiny silver metal winks up at him from your hardened nipples, and it’s like they’re screaming his name when he cups your tits. “they’re even prettier than i imagined.” “you imagined them?” he scoffs and looks up at you, looking at you as if you’re delusional. “are you kidding me? of course i did, you’ve got some killer high beams babe.” “eddie!”
tiny thot i’d like to add: eddie definitely says bye to your boobs when he has to leave. he gives you a quick kiss then bends down to eye level with your tits, hands on his knees as he speaks “i’ll miss you the most, rockstars. i’ll be thinking about you all day.” you jokingly roll your eyes. “gross, stop being a perv.” “don’t listen to her she’s just jealous.” “they’re my boobs-“ he ignores you and continues talking to your chest, “be good okay? i’ll be back before you know it babies.” he brings up a first and gently bumps his knuckles against each of your tits.
“did you seriously just fist bump my tits?”
#he’s a pest but i love him#also ty nonnie! *kith*😚#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson headcanon#stranger things fanfic#drabble
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Take Me From You #3
(Jason Todd)
[Art is not mine! Credit to Naijarski]
Requested by: ynight14 and RavenMoore7799
Keys:
Y/N: Your Name
Word Count: 2,814
Warnings and/or Pre-notes:
Gets a little heated at the end
———————————————————————
I can hear the blood beating against the veins in my ears, drowning out the sound of Y/N and Bruce yelling at each other. The scene is almost funny. A hysterical Batman screams at Y/N to not kill as Y/N yells at him for being a murderer. A poor drug dealer sitting between the two screaming adults, confusion and fear on his face. I can feel the laughter brewing in my throat from the scene in front of me.
Even with the mask covering a good chunk of her face, Y/N is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her. Though she's more filled out than she was when we were fifteen, that only makes her prettier and is expected. She's not going to look the same as she did four years ago. Honestly, she could be in a flour bag, and I would still think she's the most perfect person in the room.
Despite the funny scene in front of me, my heart races. I haven't seen her in years. I didn't even know if she was still in Gotham, let alone still in contact with Bruce. Given, it doesn't seem like good or willing contact, but it's still contact.
Y/N's hair bounces around as she yells, making my fingers ache with the want to run them through it. The want to touch her, hold her, and hear her voice is overwhelming. Well, hear her talk to me in a normal tone at least, but I'm happy to hear her in any way, even if she is yelling. At Bruce, of all people.
"I'm done. I'm done with you, you're helpless!" Bruce yells, throwing his hands up as he parades himself in a little circle. Y/N must have been a big hell-raiser over the years to get a response like that. The bat grabs the drug dealer, dragging him away as he mumbles to himself.
I watch as Y/N turns on her heels, tilting her head back and forth as she uses her hand as a puppet, mimicking Bruce's meltdown as she walks away. It's good to see that she still has her humor. Good to see that Bruce hasn't managed to get her killed yet either.
I follow after her, staying hidden as she walks away. I should talk to her, tell her I'm back. Maybe she knows though. I mean Bruce and Dick know so I would assume Y/N and Alfred know too. Though, if Bruce and her are fighting like this all the time I wouldn't be surprised if Bruce 'forgot' to mention my revival. It's a petty move that would be right up his way.
Y/N turns down an alley, so I wait a second, just in case. The sound of metal scratching concert fills the night. It's quickly replaced by soft clicks of boots against metal. I poke my head around the corner, watching as she climbs up the fire escape. I slide forward, grabbing a hold of the latter before it slides back into place.
I don't know why I feel the need to stay hidden as I watch her slide open a window and crawl in. Well, I kind of know. I don't know if it's best for me to just pop back into her life. Maybe she has a boyfriend or a husband. Maybe she has a whole family. If she has settled in life, what gives me the right to tear that up?
I know it's selfish of me to hope her life ended when I died. What kind of shitty person hopes that? Me. I hope for that. Given, I also hope she's had a fulfilling life since my passing, I just hope it wasn't with another man.
As I climb up the fire exit, ideas of how to kill Y/N's imaginary boyfriend circle my head. Maybe Bruce is right, maybe I am crazy. I try my best to be silent as I follow Y/N's path. Once I'm on her floor level, I push myself against the brick wall, not wanting to startle her. Well, I'm doing it mostly to catch a breather and prepare for the worst.
It takes a second, but once my courage is built up, I move, looking into her window, only to be met with a gun barrel in my face. "What the fuck Y/N?!" I yell, raising my hands in a sign of surrender. It would be pretty shitty to come back to life just for my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend? - to blow my head off.
My eyes scan over her maskless face, taking in her bright eyes, her cheekbones, and her lips. God her lips. It might just be the horn-dog in me, but I've missed her kissing me the most. Well... I can think of other parts of her I missed more. Off-topic, very off-topic thoughts. My... Y/N is holding a gun to my face and my identity is still very much hidden in my helmet. I need to stay on topic.
"Who the fuck are you?" She yells, her finger featherily light on the trigger. Her body shifts some, causing a small clinking sound.
My eyes drop down to her neck, the direction the sound came from. Wrapped around her neck and resting on her chest is a black chain with two rings strung on it. One is a basic black ring, with a red band through it. Even from here, I can make out the words on it. Curved on the inner side of the band are the words 'Come home to me' with Y/N's name next to it.
The other band is a copy of the first but with a small ruby held in the middle. 'Be safe for me' is curved into this one, my name next to the wording. It's the first thing I ever bought Y/N. I bought it when we were thirteen, the cheesy words curved into them being enough to back that up. It took three weeks of pickpocketing to afford, but it was worth every penny.
"Who. The fuck. Are you?" Y/N repeats, empathizing her words more.
"Um... Jason... Todd..."
Y/N's face shifts to confusion and then anger. "Last time I checked, Jason Todd is buried in a box in the Gotham Graveyard. So, try again asshole."
"Bruce buried me in the fucking public graveyard? Didn't even cross his mind to bury me in the Wayne Graveyard? What the fuck?" I say before I can stop myself.
"What is going on?" Y/N murmurs, shaking her head some as her eyes widen. "Go... go away murderer," she says, pointing the gun down before slamming the window shut.
Murderer? Like she wasn't just fighting with Bruce over her wanting to murder someone. I stand still, hands still in the air as I watch Y/N march around her apartment, panic-cleaning as she talks to herself. Her head keeps shifting around like she's trying to erase what just happened. Hopefully, this isn't how she would react if a different murderer appeared outside her window.
Once my head is on straight again, I push the window open, the wood of it yelling in discomfort as it moves. Y/N keeps pacing around, muttering to herself about crazy people and leaving Gotham. I carefully crawl in, making sure not to knock into anything.
I let myself rest against the windowsill, watching her pace around the small apartment. How has she lived this long if this is her response to a stalker? Maybe I caused her a mental breakdown.
A small smile rests on my face as I tug off my helmet and set it on the side table placed next to the window. It's littered with loose change and bullets. Good to see she still has a careless air to her. I always found it cute when we were younger. It made me feel needed, knowing she wouldn't pay attention to the small details even if it would make her life easier. I liked doing those things for her, I like her needing me to do those small things, even if it's not things that need to be done.
I snap my mask off as well, placing it next to my helmet. Y/N continues to mutter and pace, occasionally throwing a phrase or two at me as she works her thoughts out. I look around her space. There's not much of it, which I'm not surprised about. It is an apartment in Gotham after all. Her living space is filled with bookcases, all of them filled to the seams with books and movies. There's a big, overstuffed couch across from a pricey television, probably an apology gift from Bruce. He's good at replacing emotions with money, which is easy to do when you have enough for ten lifetimes.
Y/N's kitchen is littered with recipe books, loose papers, random dishes, and spices all over the counters. Her fridge is littered with pictures and more papers. Her bathroom and bedroom doors are swung open, unsurprisingly. She sucks at closing doors.
Just like Y/N's kitchen, her bathroom counters are littered with makeup. Her bedspread is a mess, but besides that, her room is pretty straight and tidy. Even the nightstand by her bed is item less besides a lone alarm clock. That's not usual for her, maybe Y/N does have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who doesn't mind taking care of the small details for her, just like I used to do.
From here, I can see the edge of a small table, a deep green cloth drooping off of it, that's tucked into a corner of her room. I let my curiosity get the better of me and push myself off the windowsill, making sure to close it behind me or else it'll be left open for the next two to three weeks.
I walk into the room, expecting a hidden mess, but there's none to be found. I let my gaze settle on the mystery table that's not so much a mystery anymore.
In the middle of the table is a picture of me. Well, a picture of us. It's from our first date night at the manor. I'm stretched out on the couch, my head in Y/N's lap and her hands tangled in my hair as we both smile at the camera.
On either side of the picture is a candle; A white one for peace and a pink one for love. Each is held in a gold candle holder. In front of the picture is a few things. One is a bowl of Skittles, my favorite candy. To the left is a small, blue, empty bowl, and to the right is a full, red bowl.
In the full bowl is the jewelry I use to wear; my dog tags Bruce gave me, the pocket watch I got from Alfred, the matching Robin bracelet from Dick, and my family cross I got from my mother.
"So... you are alive," Y/N says, pulling my attention from the altar to her, standing in the doorway. She keeps shifting her weight and her fingers tap against the wood. It would only be more obvious that she's nervous if the word was stamped onto her forehead.
"So, you made me an altar," I tease, trying to help Y/N calm down and loosen up some.
"Of course, I made you an altar, Jay. You're Hispanic, it's part of your culture. Just because Bruce won't respect it doesn't mean I won't," Her words come out hot and fast, like she's embarrassed that I saw her memorial of me. "Dumb, stupid, ginger ass, Hispanic boy," she mumbles, walking into the room.
"Not my fault a Hispanic woman fell in love with an Irish man," I shoot back, watching as she slides onto her bed, her eyes looking everywhere but me.
"I know," she mutters, lying back on her bed. "So... you must have one hell of a story to tell me."
————————————
Ever since my lap around the Lazarus pit, it's been weird waking up. Mostly because my body doesn't remember it's alive yet, and partly because my subconscious has the same feeling, which means it takes a second to remember to breathe in the morning.
Just like every morning, it takes me a second to remember how to breathe along with taking some time to remember I'm not in a box in the ground. I can feel pressure on my chest. It isn't dirt, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Just a PTSD attack. It'll clear up any second now.
Except, it doesn't clear up. I debate on whether I should open my eyes or not. Sometimes opening my eyes makes the attack worse. I don't want to take that chance. There's nothing on my chest, I'm fine. I repeat the thought as I slide my head over my chest. Instead of coming in contact with myself, my fingers slide into a bundle of hair. Well, that's not dirt but the sure as shit is something or someone on top of me.
I slowly open my eyes, being met with the sight of Y/N curled up on top of me. I can feel the smile crossing my face as I look down at her. She looks so peaceful, fast asleep, softy breathing as she clings to me. I've missed these peaceful moments with Y/N. Most days memories like these were the only thing keeping me going.
I shift a bit, peaking at the alarm clock on her nightstand; Five sixteen. I didn't plan on spending the night, but there was a lot to talk about, and a lot of time to make up for. Most of the time was spent with me explaining everything from the past four years, my death, the Lazarus pit, my service in the League of Assassins, my reappearance in Gotham, and the newly forming hatred between Bruce and me.
I guess we ended up falling asleep on accident, especially since my boots are still on. That, and Y/N is still in her spandex suit.
I shift again, flexing my arm and fingers to try and shake the static feeling out of the arm Y/N's head is on. Despite my efforts to not wake her, Y/N stirs, shifting around on top of me. She whines a bit, her body scooting down my body as she moves. It feels nice having her weight on me, feeling her body heat crashing into me. "Good morning," I whisper, rubbing my hand through her hair.
"Good morning," She whispers back, pressing a sloppy kiss into my chest. It's sweet, but I wish my shirt was off, I wish I could feel her lips against my bare skin. "You're alive," she adds, sleep still very evident in her voice.
"I'm alive," I repeat, wrapping my free hand around her back. I pull her up my body, her legs squeezing my sides as her head tucks into my neck. I struggle with being alive again, a lot. It's hard dealing with Bruce. It was hard being in debt to Ra's Al Ghul. Despite that all, in this very moment, it's so worth being alive.
I flip us over, Y/N's hold still strong on me as I do so. I prop myself up with my knee, not wanting to crush her under me. "I missed you so much," I murmur, sliding my hands under her shirt, the spandex clinging to both of us now.
"I missed you too," Y/N answers, sliding her hands into my hair, her fingers twirling the strands around themselves. I push her shirt up, laying kisses across the newly exposed skin. It's been so long since I've seen her, smelt her, touched her. After four long years of nothing but my thoughts of her, I can finally play out all my fantasies. I mean, there's no better way to start the day than with a bang.
Soft mewls fall from her, only encouraging me more. If I had my way, I would keep her locked away in this apartment. Just her and me, and my longing for her. Nothing but her begging for me and me answering her every beck and call.
"Y/N?" I hum against the skin of her stomach. She tugs softly on my hair, letting me know she's listening. "We're going to stay right here, all week. Maybe even two weeks."
"I... I can't. I have work."
"Not anymore. You're not leaving this apartment until we play out every last thought I've had of you. All four years' worth." Her legs tighten around me, an easy sign of her getting needy, an easy sign of me getting my way. I smirk to myself, dipping my hands down to her thighs. "After all, making you feel good is the least I could do after letting Bruce take me from you." Y/N lets out a breathy moan, letting me know I won.
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#young justice#young justice oneshot#jason todd oneshot#jason todd x reader#jason todd#redhood oneshot#redhood x reader#redhood
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A Lover & Fighter
☾description: Neteyam realizes something important about your relationship (Neteyam x fem. reader)
☾a/n: i wrote this at night because i need a sad word dump…anywho i tried (not edited :))
☾song inspiration: try-pink (sped up) & teen suicide - haunt me (x3)
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Her hair was laced in beaded braids. Her necklaces hung from her neck like medals. The twinkle of hope and despair infused with one another in scent of glistening power. With each moment of silence the clan knew she was conspiring a better idea. Every war call, meant there was a forest filled with blood shed. The simple glance of her marmalade eyes, could defuse any fear inside a companion’s heart, but could cause any enemy a loss of color.
No one knew of her parents, nor how she came to be conceived. She was a wild horse in the pasture filled with snow ball sheep. Not a threat at first, but never mistake the power of a liberated spirt.
Neteyam was the fool in this game of hearts. He tried to soothe her into his arms with sweet praises of temptation. He tried to connivance her that they were meant to be. How he had known her his entire life. He read her in poems, pictured her in many songs, watched the flowers blossom and thought she might like them too. He was a fool, such a fool to fall for a girl without a future.
A sudden smack stung Neteyam’s cheek. His thoughts suddenly faded away with the wind, leaving his mind blank. A hand print darken his face as bubbling rage spread through him like a wildfire.
His cocky laugh irritated Neteyam with passion. Only an idiot would hit the son of Toruk Makto on the face, an idiot indeed. Auayew stood there proud and tall as he saw the masterpiece form on his opponent’s cheek. In no way was Neteyam considered a fighter, but at this very moment a new sense of thinking sported with in him. Maybe it was time to change that?
Before Neteyam could defend another blow, she came. Her soft hands pulled Auayew away from his body and soon they did ruins. Each punch caused another flood of tears to pursue down his bruised face. Drops of liquid metal began to pour out of his mouth. She didn’t care though - she never did.
He stood there and watched in awe. Even as her face stayed still like the sand, her eyes showed waves of fury crashing upon one another. Her hair flowed in the wind as the beads rattled in a warning.
Emerald stones embodied her skin with grace. Sparkling stars twinkled across her skin in series of aggravated kisses. Harsh strokes of red scattered across her body, blemishing and staining her like a tarnished painting. She was the definition art, she wasn’t the most beautiful women in the world, but she made you feel something real. And that - that is what truly mattered when loving her.
“I suggest you get out of here before I stop pulling my punches.” Her words caused him to shiver in awe. Her stance was so powerful, so surreal and inspiring. He watched as Auayew scurried away, holding his nose in pain. It brought a smile on Neteyam’s face to see him suffer a little.
“Are you okay?” His heart felt like it was about to erupt from his chest. The pain from his cheek was long forgotten, unlike thoughts of her.
“Oh yeah, it didn’t hurt me that much,” he tried shrugging off her intimidating gaze. It was enchanting to stare into her eyes from a far, but up close it made him feel nervous and insecure. Was he good enough for her?
“Are you sure?” She asked again with a softer gaze. A smile bloomed on her face as she heard him let out a nervous laugh.
“Yeah..I- I’m not much of a fighter.” He stumbled upon his words trying to find the right phase in describing his pervious actions. “I just don’t want to cause a scene.”
“I like that.” Her words had caused him to finally look up. She was even prettier in person. Her golden leaf diadem floated around her head like a halo of life. Strands of her hair wired around the air as they tried to escape with the leaves worryingly in the breeze.
“You do?” His wide eyes, maybe he didn’t need to change. Why would he need to change when she already liked him like that.
“Yeah, not everyone needs to be a fighter. We need more lovers to converse with.” True words fled her mouth, but he thought differently.
“I think fighters are lovers. They are just more passionate about their love.” His words clearly sparked something inside her because you could clearly see it radiate on her face.
Neteyam truly believed his heart couldn’t suppress the yearning to break free any longer, that was until she fell to the ground in laughter. Like an angel falling down from her throne of faith, she laid there open and free, allowing herself to enjoy the humor of it all. Her laugh was contagious causing him to go down laughing as well.
“Oh oh that’s absolutely brilliant, but unfortunately I’m not a lover..” She looked over at him in curiosity, his name was never given to her as a keepsake. He caught on this rather quickly and awkwardly.
“Neteyam, my name is Neteyam,” her eyes lit up in realization, and soon they filled with sadness. Quickly, she turned away to look back up at the trees. A soothing shade crept over their bodies and left them to enjoy the cool moss.
“My name’s Y/n.” He already new her sweet name backwards and forwards, but for that moment he pretended he didn’t.
“That’s a lovely name.” She didn’t respond back to his complement, instead she chose to bathe her self in the natural music of Pandora.
It wasn’t until the sun ripened that the she got up from her spot. She didn’t look back at him, but stayed staring at the new painted sky.
“Tomorrow, I am joining the warriors on a mission.” Neteyam’s heart sank with those words. Truly, she was not serious.
“What?” He felt like crying in despair. How? How could it be? Just when he got to enjoy the moonlight sinatra with her, she was going to leave to battle. Of course, this was not her first time battling in a war against the sky people, but this upcoming one was different. He had eavesdropped last night on the plans for tomorrow. It was going to be a gruesome fight, and the clan knew some would not make it.
“When I come back, maybe we could go enjoy the sunset and sunrise together.” There were no tears pricking from her eyes. She chose this title, and now she must live up to it. Unlike Neteyam, she had no parents to carefully guide her through right choices. Y/n was pushed into the world with no responsibility, so when the opportunity of fighting for her clan showed up. She took it.
He didn’t have time to respond, for she gathered her weapons and left. Neteyam didn’t sleep well that night, he was too busy wondering if she was dreaming about today.
The next day when the fellow participants gathered to leave, Neteyam stayed behind the crowd and watched. He saw her standing there. Her head held high and her posture tall. Not an ounce of fear reeked from her soul, yet a dreary cloud floated over her. He wanted to ask her why so blue? Hoping maybe it would make her laugh, but they already began to depart. He prayed Eywa would talk care of her.
When news of their return spread amongst the na’vi, he dropped his bow and arrow, quickly running towards the base to greet her. Frantic voices surrounded Neteyam’s ears as he watched swarms of medics wrap our them. It wasn’t until a set of marmalade eyes hit him that he figured out what happened.
And as the blood fell from her hands in exhausting amounts, Neteyam realized something. He realized there would never be a chance to capture her heart, for her heart would turn to stone from the amount of life lost. She would be buried the same year she shall prosper, not because of her ego, but it was in her nature. People like her weren’t meant to last long. They were too great to be tarnishing the lands with prosperity. Y/n would die young, and Neteyam would grow old carrying on the memory of his first romantic love. It was written it stars, it was being written right now.
#avatar#angst tag#neteyam#neteyam x you#pandora#major character death#na'vi avatar#neteyam sully#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x reader#jake sully#sully family
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I really like the pantolone x hybrid au! Reader :] I kinda want more of it, so prettyyyy pleaseeeee write some more :]
Thank you! I did my best, please enjoy 🫡 . I’m sorry it’s so short I can pull more together later if you lovelies want, I’m just swamped with schoolwork rn
Yan! Pantalone x Snow leopard hybrid! Reader
TW: kidnapping (petnapping?), drugging, forced domestication, oh also Dottores in here and that’s it’s own trigger warning. Lemme know if there r more
It was cold. But you didn't care, happily chasing your meal through the snow. The small white mouse was hard to see, but you could hear it, and you weren't going to lose it. Your fluffy white ears keened towards the little scurrying noises as you simply failed to miss the sound of a campfire crackling, the steps of large men moving around; too excited about the mouse, your mouth watering as you chased the first living thing you'd seen in ages. Only as the mouse was crushed under a well aimed boot did you screech and tumble to a halt, slamming into sturdy and well made fabric. You sat there dazed, long spotted tail over your shoulder as your claws dug into the ground.
"What on earth?" A clicking was heard behind you and you turned your cat like eyes to the new noise, looking into a masked face. It had a long shiny thing pointed at you, frozen metal pressing against your head. You bared your sharp teeth and sprang up, only to be whacked across the head now. Your vision danced, colourful spots flooding your eyesight. you heard muffled conversation, but were unable to actually know what any of it meant
"That's a snow leopard hybrid yeah? Those rare or anything?"
"You're asking if its rare? You dumb fuck that's worth-!"
"Who's even gonna buy it? Sure its expensive as hell but it's wild, nobody really wants a wild one."
“Doesn’t matter, some sicko will take it. If there’s no luck on the market, the Doctor would gladly snatch her up.”
You could only listen, trying to comprehend any of it when the snow beside you crunched. A tall, imposing man with dark hair and glasses stood there looking down at you with a smile. You bared your teeth, crouching to lunge at any of the humans that dared to take another step near you.
“I’ll take her, it would be a waste to give her to the Doctor. Isn’t she a pretty thing? She’d be prettier put on display though, prettier if she was taken care of.” That was it, your world going dark after a blunt force hit the back of your head.
When you woke up, you were being dragged into a very white room. It wasn’t much different than the white of the snow, but the smell of chemicals hurt your nose, causing you to whine as you looked around in your disoriented state. Some muffled words were heard as a masked figure with blue hair appeared in your vision, pointing at you and then laughing at words spoken by another. You swiped with your claw at the person, but they simply smiled with their own sharp teeth and waved their finger at you. You faded back out after a small prick in your neck.
#x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#yandere#yandere genshin x reader#yandere x reader#yandere pantalone#yandere regrator
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2:30PM | regulus black !
this is a short coffee shop!au drabble with no particular storyline or purpose
content: frustrated!barista!reader and an annoyingly pretty regulus
word count: 1k
¡ marauders masterlist !
you stare over the counter, paying little attention to the milk you're steaming for an awaiting customer. you tighten your jaw, sighing through your nose as you peer at the soft slope of regulus' pale neck. he's infuriating.
his gaze is fixed on the laptop in front of him, his stupid cup of black coffee steaming beside his lean fingers that glide across the keyboard expertly. you feel irrationally angry as he lifts his chin, looking down the annoyingly perfect slope of his perfect nose as he shakes his head the slightest bit, getting his dark curls out of his eyes.
"shit," you hiss, pulling your hand away from the scorching metal containing the burnt milk. you look at the woman who patiently waits for her drink, smiling sheepishly, "sorry." you feel your cheeks warming.
she smiles politely, "it's okay. m'in no rush." your finger throbs and you resist the urge to stick it in your mouth as you nod your head.
when you turn back around, you catch sight of regulus who is now staring over at you, dark eyebrows pulled together and a judging glint in his gray eyes. his nose is scrunched like he's smelled something disgusting -- likely the burnt smell of soy milk that fills the air. his perfectly pink and delicately shaped lips curve slightly downward, only adding to the judging look. you feel your face burn as hot as the burned milk under his scrutinizing gaze. asshole.
you cough uncomfortably, grabbing the pitcher and dumping it into the sink behind you. you blow the frizzy strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail away, huffing. you tuck it behind your ear, praying it will stay in place as you finish the poor woman's drink.
regulus has turned his attention back to his laptop by the time you turn back around. his impeccable posture has you straightening your back and adjusting your shoulders. you watch him start to bite his bottom lip as you start to steam the milk again, staring at the pearly teeth that are barely visible. the light of the screen in front of him brightens his irises, making them look as if they're gleaming. he's so much prettier when he isn't looking at you.
you pull the pitcher away and pour the steamed milk into the woman's personal tumbler. you tear your eyes from the elegant man and smile at the woman, handing her the cup with another apology. she laughs and looks you in the eye as she drops a tip into your glass jar. cold air rushes into the shop as she exits, sending a chill up your spine and eliciting a dramatic shiver.
regulus is looking at you again, the same unimpressed look on his pretty face, "burning drinks now?"
you swallow, "no."
he ignores you, "I can't say I'm surprised. can't expect much from a girl like you." his foot taps under the table, shoes in pristine condition.
you huff, looking away. you'll never understand why he comes into the shop in the first place, he doesn't seem to be a fan. but he walks in every morning looking his best and raising an expecting brow as he looks down his nose at you until you hand him his usual cup of coffee. you can always sense his eyes on you as you scurry around behind the counter, eager to get his attention off of you.
"you don't seem to mind," you say, wiping down the counters as he takes a sip.
he hums shortly, smooth and deep, "don't mistake my good manners for what they aren't. if anything, i'm being too polite."
"polite?" it's your turn to raise an eyebrow, "is that what you call it?" he says nothing, instead he crosses his arms in front of his chest. your gaze flickers back to him, quickly eyeing the milky dips of his clavicle. "you know you don't have to come in every day."
"you're right. i don't."
you furrow your brows. you're not quite sure what to make of that response so you choose to ignore it, shaking your head lightly. you don't want to speak again, but you find yourself becoming increasingly annoyed the longer he stares in your direction. he's infuriatingly pretty but just as infuriatingly annoying.
you shamefully hope he'll look away soon so you can go back to gawking at the man in peace. to your dismay, he doesn't. instead, he watches your back as you wash the dishes and clean the steamer.
"you don't do much," he states, tilting his head to the right. it exposes more of his pretty neck and you can't help but stare at the delicate skin for a moment too long. regulus lifts a brow, eyes holding a little amusement when you meet his gaze. "you get paid for this?"
you narrow your eyes, feeling slightly flushed. "you don't do much, either," you mutter, unsure of what else to say.
somedays he types all day, stopping momentarily to stretch his long fingers or to shoot you a disgusted look when you fuck something up. other days he sits by the window and reads, finally relaxing his back with a breathy sigh, hunching over the pages of whatever pretentious novel he's gonna bother you about when the shop is empty. but it doesn't matter what he does, he always manages to look pretty doing it.
regulus laughs through his nose, leaning on his elbows, "clever, aren't you?" you purse your lips at his obvious teasing, looking into his amused eyes with clear irritation. it isn't your fault you can't think when he looks at you like that.
his gray eyes flit over to the glass window before sparing you another quick glance. his eyes are on his laptop again, rapidly typing as soon as the bell above the door chimes and laughter fills the shop. you stare for a few more seconds before turning your attention to the group of teenage girls that had wandered in.
#definitely not an excuse to write regulus descriptions#regulus (belle’s version)#by belle !#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black drabble#regulus black x y/n#regulus black scenario#regulus black blurb#regulus black fanfic#marauders era regulus#marauders era#marauders x reader#harry potter marauders#hp marauders#marauders scenario#marauders#regulus black
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In the wrong hands
Hannah’s auntie Ruth stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or react as her evil niece ran her slutty hands all over her husbands cock and it grew larger and darker.
Power crackled out of the shining metal ring on the giggling blondes finger as Ruth’s once shy and bookish husband transformed into a powerfully muscled black man with a well defined body, his being twisting to Hannah’s perverted whims.
He groaned as the corrupt young blonde began to stroke his magnificent new cock and she licked the tip, causing it to swell larger and larger in her perfect teenage hands, ready to enter her tight young body.
"Wow Auntie the magic ring of physical control really does work. Thanks for teaching me to use it. Now I can transform myself and other people however I like, reality itself will bend to my desire. Ooooh this is such fun. I can’t wait to feel Uncle Matt’s big fat cock inside me, this is so fucking cool.”
Ruth stood like a statue, only her eyes able to move since Hannah had commanded her to stand still and not move. Until the evil little bitch released her she could do nothing but watch her husband be transformed into Hannah’s plaything.
How had she allowed this disaster to happen?
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For years her family had guarded the magic rings of power responsibly. She had even considered that one day Hannah might become a Guardian just like she was, so when Hannah had come to visit this morning, she hadn’t even considered that the spoiled little blonde might be a danger.
She and her husband had been busy washing the dishes after cooking Hannah lunch. Ruth had soon realised her niece had been gone nearly an hour so she had gone to her bedroom to find to her horror her niece going guiltily through her makeup and jewellery.
”Don’t touch those!”, screamed Ruth as she saw Hannah had found the sacred box of Power and had opened it to look at the gleaming jewellery inside. On black velvet sat the rings of physical and mental control and between them the piercing of command which Hannah was currently holding in her fingers.
”Why not? I’m only looking”, pouted Hannah the piercing still between her fingers.
Suddenly it sparked and Hannah looked surprised as a strange expression came over her aunties face.
”Those rings and the piercing you are holding are magic jewellery that gives whoever wears them Godlike powers. I am supposed to guard them so they are never used.”
Hannah looked at her aunt quizzically, ”Why are you telling me this?”
"The piercing you are holding is called the Piercing of Command. Whilst you hold it I must truthfully answer any question you ask me. If you put it into your tongue, the full power will activate. Your commands and desires will become irresistible and people will have to do whatever you say.”
Ruth screamed as with a wicked little giggle Hannah brought the piercing to her mouth and it slid magically into her tongue.
”Mmmmmh, wow! I always wanted my tongue pierced. Now Auntie Ruth tell me about the other rings..."
Ruth had no option but to obey her niece.
“The ring of physical control lets you change any object or any person to whatever you desire. The ring of mental control lets you change peoples minds and give them new personalities, thoughts and desires. With all three items of jewellery you will have Godlike powers to do whatever you please.”
Putting on the rings, Hannah giggled and looked her Aunt straight in the eye. “Teach me how they work.”
For the next hour Ruth had no choice but to help her niece grow stronger and more powerful with the rings. Hannah laughed as her power increased and she made herself prettier and sexier, transforming her hair blonde and giving herself pink nails just to experiment. Finally she was ready.
By the time Ruth’s husband had come upstairs to find out what was going on, it was too late and he had quickly succumbed to his nieces new wicked powers.
As Ruth watched, her young niece spread her tight pussy and moan with wicked pleasure as her new lovers huge cock slid inside her impossibly hot body, she knew that her enslavement and corruption by her niece was only just beginning.
“Ooooh, this is so fucking good Auntie Ruth, I’m gonna cum so hard. Mmmmh, I want more. I fancy getting double penetrated heheh lets give you a big cock too and make you completely obsessed and in love with me. Come fuck your Mistress and enjoy being inside my tight young body.”
As Ruth felt the tip of a new giant dick grow out of her panties, she felt her love and devotion for Goddess Hannah grew and her desire to satisfy her niece increase to uncontrollable levels.
”Yes Mistress, I live to serve you” She sighed dreamily and she meant it too.
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