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joonberriess · 1 year

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𓆩♡𓆪 “wetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie,” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — fingering (brief), unprotected sex, creampies, attempted quiet sex, reader’s WAP, messy sex, squirting (mentioned), some dirty talk, possessive!jk, jealous!jk + jennie, jennie makes an appearance woooo, voyeurism on her part, she wants you, sexual tension(?), oc is a dumb puppy: confirmed

You’re just so so pretty… Jennie is utterly in love with you. How could anyone not be? You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked this earth; it'd be a crime to not like you. It made Jennie just want to wrap you up in a little cocoon and never let you back out, you were too good for this place (too good for Jungkook too in her humble opinion).

She’s always harbored a tiny crush on you, it never got too serious because she knew you probably didn’t swing that way anyways. There were no hard feelings between the two of you anyways which she was glad for. Jennie however was irked by Jungkook as of lately (when was she not irritated with him though?). More than usual might she say.

The thing was Jungkook had a big mouth, he was shameless and was always letting shit slip from his lips. Jennie despised him for putting images of you, her little cutie pie dummy, in the most vulgar positions known to man all because of his mouth. Up until now she hadn’t really thought about you in that way, even if the walls were a little too thin and she might have heard a thing or two.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you’d say with those cute puppy eyes of yours, “I promise I’ll keep it down!” Jennie knew you’d forget so she didn’t hold you to that.

It all started about a week ago when Jennie had met up with Jisoo and the older girl accidentally let it slip about you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe they talk about our sex lives, I did NOT need to know Jungkook eats ass for fucks sake.” Jisoo spits out in embarrassment, covering her mouth as she tries not to laugh too loudly.

Jennie’s brow quirks up, “He eats ass?” She peers over at Jisoo, “Who the fuck told you that.” She snorts.

“My boyfriend duhh, who else Jennie?” Jisoo shakes her head and rolls her eyes fondly, “He hung out with him like last week and they were talking about shit they’ve done or what they like and don’t like.”

Jennie stops listening once Jisoo starts complaining about Yugyeom spilling the beans. She looks down at the ground while they walk, zoning out and getting lost in her thoughts. Her not so holy thoughts at that.. Now she can’t stop thinking about how you’ve probably gotten your ass ate.

(It’s what you deserve of course. Jennie’s surprised her mouth waters a little at the thought.)

Since then Jennie starts noticing a lot more things she once didn’t think were sexual or shit she just flat out ignored like your unabashed nudity and silly little shows of affection with her. It makes her realize what a little minx you are, and the very painful fact that she’s attracted to you more than ever.

“Jennieeeee!” You happily whine and throw your arms around the girl, “Are you proud of me I made dinner for us.” You rub your cheek against her own and pout at her, “I didn’t forget to push down the lever on the toaster this time either!”

Jennie hesitantly slides her hands around your (soft?) hips, resting them right there as she balances herself because she’s got an arm full of you. “Really? That’s good y/n,” she squeezes your cheek and smiles. Jennie gets an eye full of tits right in her face she literally has to force her eyes away as she grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head, eyes full of wonder and lips still set into a small pout.

Jennie shakes her head, “Nothing, just hungry.”

“Let’s eat!”

Things get worse when Jennie comes home one night late from work, she had seen Jungkook’s car parked out in the front and she dreaded his presence already. “I’m home.” She calls out while unlocking the door, not wanting her entrance to be a surprise just in case you two were getting busy.

“Hi,” you turn your head and send her a soft smile, “you okay? I left some take out in the microwave for you.” You turn back around and lay your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder again. Jungkook’s busy still watching the movie so he waves his hand in acknowledgement.

Jennie rolls her eyes and passes by, but not before smacking the back of Jungkook’s head, “I thought I told your ass to stop parking your car so near the fucking line. I can’t even get out of my own damn car.”

“Fuck off no I didn’t,” Jungkook laughs, “you fuckin’ liar always trying to hate on me for no reason.” He says and throws a balled up napkin at Jennie who yells ‘Hey bitch!’ in surprise, “y/n tell her something, she’s being mean to me.” Jungkook buries his face in your face and leaves small kisses there.

Before Jennie can make a face of disgust you turn to her with that pretty face of yours, “Jen, I already told you that it’s not nice being a meanie. You pinky promised me you were going to be nicer.” It’s sickening how gagged you have her.

Jennie surprisingly lets it go and heads over to sit down on the opposite couch. She grumbles in annoyance and tosses a dirty look at Jungkook, who’s smug as a motherfucker right now. Her eyes lower down to your smooth pretty thighs, not a hair in sight (must have waxed..) You’re wearing a pair of pink sailor moon socks and from this angle she catches a glimpse of your panties which are completely lace..

You’re curled up on Jungkook’s side, tucked away and hidden by both his big ass and then the oversized shirt you assume belongs to him (given the lack of clothes on his ass). The collar is slightly disheveled and pulled down off to the side, exposing your hickey covered neck looking like he mauled you. Jungkook looks so nonchalant as he rubs your thigh with his hand, squeezing and gripping the soft looking flesh.

Jennie hates to admit but you two look so fucking hot together. Now she sees why people think you two make a fit couple, you make everyone else look like shit. She ends up sulking even more in her seat and decides to watch the movie instead or else she’s going to be more annoyed at him.

Half way through the movie Jennie hears you yawn softly and that’s when it’s Jungkook’s cue to move. He picks you up like nothing and starts to head out to your room. “Night Jennie.” You softly whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow ‘kay?” You smack your lips together as you smile sleepily at her.

Jennie waves, “Night.” She decides to stick it out and watch the rest of the movie alone.

She doesn’t exactly count on falling asleep then and there, only waking up when the tv’s light blares in her face with the stupid “Still watching?” screen displayed. “Fuck what time is it?” She whispers to herself and grabs her phone, hissing at the brightness and closing her bleary eyes, “Three?” She grunts and rolls off the couch.

Jennie turns the TV off and heads down the hall to her room, blinking the blurriness in her vision away. She sees your door cracked open and makes a mental note to shut it for you after she finishes using the restroom. It’s when she’s washing her hands that she hears…it. She frowns in confusion and stops for a moment, hearing a rhythmic thudding noise against the walls.

“What the fuck..” Jennie whispers and dries off her hands, stopping for a few seconds as the sounds continue. “So I’m not trippin’.” She concludes and steps out quietly.

The noise is more clear when she steps out into the hallway and Jennie already knows what the hell you two are up to. It pisses her off more that the door is left open and now she has to fucking sneak into her room without being spotted. Just her luck honestly.

“Mm..mmm..” Moans slip past your lips as Jungkook’s hands hold your waist steady while fucks into your wet cunt over and over again. He’s not completely bottoming out to avoid making any unnecessary noises like your skin smacking against each other etc.

Jungkook’s eyes are settled down on your bouncing and jiggling tits, your nipples are perked up begging to be sucked on. He told you that you both needed to keep quiet but honestly it’s getting a bit harder with how good you wrap around his cock. Your cunt’s so fucking creamy dollops of slick coat his cock and form a ring around the base, which disappears everytime he slips back in to your dewy little pussy.

“Shit baby,” he grunts under his breath, “ ‘member we gotta keep quiet?” He bites down on his bottom lip and resists the urge to fuck into you harder.

You mewl softly in return and reach up to grip the pillow you’re laying on, “..trying,” you weakly huff, “just feels so good.” Your eyes are hazy and your speech comes out a little slurred, Jungkook already knows you’re about to start drooling at this point.

“Be a good girl for me.” He moans quietly and grips your chin tightly, pressing your cheeks together and making your pouty lips pucker up for him. “I know you can.” He whispers as his eyes drop down to where you’re both connected, a string of creamy slick already coats his pelvis and he curses at how much wetter you just got.

You gasp quietly and arch your back when his cock strikes your g-spot, perfectly rubbing up against it with his coordinated thrusts. You greedily roll your hips up into his and gurgle on your moans. “More,” you slur out, “wan’ more Jungkookie.”

He moans a little too loud as his hips stutter in their movements, he finds himself pressing in and rotating his hips in small circles. You’re just too fucking sexy for your own good, had his poor cock throbbing and everything. As Jungkook grinds in deeply, he listens to the sounds your cunt makes. It’s like macaroni in a pot.

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby.” Jungkook’s mouth falls open in a silent moan as he shudders, “Soaked lil’ pussy makin’ a mess on my cock, you gonna clean it for me?” He gasps quietly.

You nod eagerly and whimper for more, “C-Cum, cum in me.” You whisper out as your hand travels down, fingers parting in a ‘V’ right where his cock slides in and out. “P-Promise I’ve been good..!” You moan out, “Been the best girl for you.”

He loses it when your little fingers slide against his shaft everytime he backstrokes and then pushes back in. His balls ache and he fucks into you for a couple more seconds until he’s coming and filling your pussy to the brim. “Shit,” he releases a long sigh as he pants quietly and looks down, “fuckin’ hell.” Jungkook bites his lip and muffles his moan as he slowly slips his sensitive cock out of you with a wet plop.

You happily curl your legs towards you, hands coming under your thighs to hold them up so not a drop of cum is wasted. “Did good?” You sleepily ask.

“Perfect.” Jungkook licks his lips and leans up to kiss you as he trails a hand down to your slicked up pussy, fingers dipping into the mess you created down there. He intends on getting you messier, good thing you have all night long.

Jennie doesn’t sleep at all after that night. She remembers lying awake in bed as images flashed through her brain like a sequence. She thinks about your messy thighs and how your pussy stretched around Jungkook’s cock. Needless to say she went to bed uncomfortably hot down there and a pair of wet panties.

She doesn’t look neither you nor Jungkook in the eye the next day when she goes to get breakfast. You’re as clueless as ever but something about Jungkook’s dark eyes having this knowing look in them tells her he did that shit on purpose. She chooses to ignore it and continue like nothing happened. Maybe it was time she took Lisa up on that offer on being fuck buddies.

A couple of days later Jungkook breaks the ice between them two. Jennie had been home early from classes when a knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She opened up and came face to face with Jungkook, “What do you want?” She deadpans, even though her actions say another thing as she steps to the side for him to enter.

“If you’re here for y/n she ain’t here, though I’m sure you don’t need my help in finding her since you’re always with her and shit.” Jennie waves her hand as she walks off without looking back at him, “Don’t fuckin’ make a mess or touch my shit.” She fully intends to go to her room but Jungkook calls out to her.

“Enjoyed the show last week?” Jungkook calmly replies.

Jennie stops in her tracks, “What show? You mean the movie we watched together?” She turns around and eyes him in distaste.

“You know what I’m talking about you little pervert.” Jungkook smirks, “I’m not fucking blind to the way you’ve been looking at my girl, and it’s not like I didn’t hear you go into the bathroom and just never go to your room after that.”

Her face heats up in embarrassment as she glares at Jungkook, “Fuck off Jungkook.”

“No really, did you enjoy watching her squirt all over my fingers and soaking the bed sheets? I bet you really wanted a taste of her creamy lil’ pussy. Bet you thought about how tight she’d feel around your fingers, makes you wanna have a taste for yourself don’t it?” He grins.

Jennie’s mind screams yes and for a second she nearly gives in and confesses. However, she’s just as prideful as she is horny, “The day I fuck her Jeon is the day you’ll be wishing you never spoke about it. Because just like that she’ll be playing for both teams when I’m through with her.” She watches his face fall and turn into something more serious, like he’s feeling threatened, “They always wanna come but they never wanna leave.” She winks and heads into her room.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out, voice high pitched and breathy as an even louder squelching noise resonates in the background.

He’s got his fingers knuckle deep inside of your slicked up pussy, thrusting them in and out at a mad pace. It’s so quick that your squirting out bits of slick whilst he fucks you with his fingers. Jungkook’s hell bent on getting you to cum for him, he looks pissed off and you can’t help but wonder why.

“Mmmm..!” You squeal out and shake under him, “S-Slow down Jungkookie,” you whimper out, “ ‘s too much!”

Jungkook does the complete opposite of what you asked and only speeds up, “Pussy’s all mine isn’t it baby? Say it for me, whose pussy is this?” He curls his fingers and searches for your g-spot, intending to abuse it.

You throw your head back and scramble to grip his wrist tightly, “Yours! It’s yours,” you sob out, “p-please..!” You feel tears well up in your eyes, “Jungkookie!”

“That’s right, all fuckin’ mine baby,” he growls and leans down to bury his face in your thighs, “all mine.” He repeats and takes your throbbing clit into his mouth.

You literally die and go to heaven. (And Jennie sits smug in her room because she’s the reason for your passing.)

TAGLIST: TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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dabisbratz · 1 year

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can we cam up? eren yeager x male reader

w.c: 4.3k

genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, fuckhole, cunt (1 time), pussy (1 time)

WARNING: spit, blowjob, rimming, anal (obvi), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, filming, degradation, humiliation, nerd!eren, jock!reader, intoxication, may read kinda dubious but it’s 100% consensual, light d/s dynamic, alcohol, weed mention, dumbification, eren compares you to a hentai character one (1) time bc he’s deranged

a/n: i was kicking my feet twirling my locs screaming into my pillow writing this and it shows. also eren has a BIIIIG phat crush on you but i didn’t wanna get too into it… you definitely remember him, probably even sexted him w/o even knowing it was him

Let’s get one thing straight: You're not an arrogant man. Not at all— in fact, you’d consider yourself to be quite humble. This night may be about you and your winning score, but you’re humble about it. Considerate, even. So you feel no guilt when you accidentally spill alcohol on someone’s shirt, explaining that if they can somehow find you on instagram and send a DM, you’ll pay for the laundry and potential damages. The stranger peers at you with a funny glint in his green eyes as his hands pull the wet fabric apart from his skin, his glasses falling down the arched bridge of his nose.

You shrug and wave to your teammates, your football jersey loose on your form as you make way through the frat house’s large interior. Music blares in your ears for the millionth time tonight, the bass rattling your skeletal system with each increasingly tipsy step you take. Grinding, flushed bodies invade your vision, all around you as you shimmy through the sea of bodies to pour yourself another generous shot. Cool, blue rays of strobe lights dance and flicker across your eyelids. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the confines of your safety helmet, the vinyl of your mouth guards. It overwhelmed you at first, so bright and unapologetic as your eyes adjusted and focused.

Somewhere beneath the tranquil hum of alcohol flowing through your veins you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, rippling through your skin and sobering you up just a little.

Your girlfriend.

She’d been blowing up your phone all night, something along the lines of forgetting her gift for your anniversary— what was a few weeks, anyway? — and how ungrateful you were for yours. She was a good lay, a quick way to resort to getting your dick wet on particularly lonely nights; when you couldn’t stand the sound of silence dancing around your head. But that was all.

You shake the thought of her squawking voice the second you find Connie, surrounded by sorority girls with glossed lips and pink-tinted eyes. Finding solstice in his company, they’re huddled relatively close, knit together in some sort of baked clique. He’s perched over a bong, lighter in hand as he inhales the fumes with muffled haste. Pothead.

Your hand finds the crown of his head, palm nestled in the bristles of his buzz cut. Noone is allowed to touch Connie’s hair, at least not when he’s coherent enough to stop them. It usually ends in flying fists and bruised cheekbones, but all the man sends your way is a hazy glare. Someone punching the university’s all star just isn’t a good look. Especially when he’s pretty and popular with the public.

“Do that again and I’ll throw this bong at your head.” It’s an empty threat, clear of malice and slurred on Connie’s bitten lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” You steal the smoke exuding from his mouth, swishing the fog in your mouth a few times before blowing it back into his face. “Never again. Scouts honor.”

You shoot back up, mind reeling and posture straightening as a particularly pretty cheerleader hands you a bottle of something you can’t quite make out. It’s brown and rich though, smacking against the glass as you take a swig and chase it down with Connie’s leftover beer of all things.

One thing leads to another and suddenly you’re trapped between sobriety and full on plastered drunk. You remember chugging something sickeningly sweet, despite it leaving a harsh burn in the back of your throat as you took in a deep breath of victory. There were many eyes on you, loud cheers reverberating off the walls as you’re hoisted into the air for your skillful performance and high-fived by your frat brothers. But there are those green eyes again, staring straight through you with a look you can’t quite place.

Not that you can place much. You’re shitfaced.

He smells good, you later discover. There’s a strum of wind as he pushes forward and straight by you, weaving through the crowd like he’s invisible. The swaying of bodies— the sight is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, and it makes his head swim while liquor glides across his tongue, clumsy and inexperienced. He must not get invited to parties often. Or maybe he does, and you’ve just never noticed him.

He’s quite nerdy, some sort of graphic design on his stained shirt that resembles that of a video game or cartoon logo, and a poor excuse of a beard litters his chiseled jaw. And oddly handsome, pale face flushed from the alcohol, pink and pooling at the apples of his cheeks as he stares at you expectantly. But you’re not into men, and all the shots in the world couldn’t get you to even think of advancing with one. He quirks his thick brow in passing, settling back into his seat with a depleting mumble you can’t make out under the loud music.

But the alcohol paired with the sultry music-choice is doing things to you, you can’t help but stare longer than you should when he swallows down his adams apple, throat bobbing as he downs a fruity drink. His tongue darts over his lips, quick and steady as he nods along to the bass. You’re thinking with your dick, pushing past the batting lashes of cheerleaders and curvy bodies of sorority girls until you’re uncomfortably close to the guy who won’t stop looking at you.

“Do you- do you have a staring problem?” You ask, a slight slur to your voice as your face leans in close enough to count the nerd’s lashes individually.

Just to reiterate, you’re not arrogant. In the slightest.

He jumps back in response to the evasive question, strands of hair falling over his glasses as his emerald eyes roam your face. The lines are blurring now, his nerdy, almost irritating face looks kissable and inviting— his parted lips look warm and skilled. You can smell the pineapple on his tongue, sweet and citrusy.

“You heard me,” You hiccup straight into his face, watching his gorgeous features distort into something not even remotely akin to disgust, which makes confusion rack your brain. “Do you talk, or what?”

Your tongue is sharp, much to Eren’s chagrin. You’re too pretty to talk to people like that, especially him. He may look the way he does, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to him like that. It’s not like he can’t recognize a brat when he sees one. Usually, you’re a bubbly team player— everyone likes you, even if they say they don’t. Still, he shakes his head, humoring your drunken irritation. He understands, at least a bit, as he has a natural temper of his own.

Truthfully, Eren has been keeping his eyes on you for the past millennia. It started when he accidentally walked in on your practice, a sunny day that simply got brighter when he saw your face, cheerful and bright as you joked along with your teammates— Jean, Reiner, Levi? Was it? It didn’t matter, his focus was on you.

You and your sinfully tight compression shorts. You and your hands that curl into fists as you grasp at his sheets like a lifeline, as if holding them tight will somehow keep him inside of you, right where he belongs.

You and your stupid football that’d smacked him right in the face at full speed. But it was in his favor, you came running over apologetically as he rubbed away the blooming bruise. Your voice was sweet then, a melodic chirp that he couldn’t stop thinking about since then. He wants to hear it break.

It seems you too always meet at the expense of his dignity. But not tonight.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Eren grunts, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning his head away. His glasses are fogged up, but it might just be saving his pride. He’d rather not get hard in front of the person he’s been fantasizing about for the past few months, not when you clearly had no recollection of him. He doesn’t blame you. “My bad. I’m not, yknow, stalking you or anything.”

“Oh, because staring for hours and stalking are very different things,” You’re staring at his lips now, ignoring the vibration in your hand. The second your phone screen lights up you slam it face-down into your front pocket. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice, like his response is calculated and open-ended. “What if I like that?”

Your eyebrows wiggle, even with the mind splitting sensation of your brain beating against your skull. Almost as hard as your heart hammering in your chest. Eren’s scoff is barely audible over the music, but the comment has his heart racing.

You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, fists bunched up in the dark fabric as your lips press against his. It’s feverish and sloppy, your teeth occasionally grazing his own. His mouth is hot and wet, fruity essence on his tongue as it slips past your lips and into your mouth. You’ve never had a kiss feel this good. He nips at your bottom lip, pearly teeth digging into the skin until he feels you make an embarrassingly high pitched noise in your throat.

There’s a twinkle in his teal eyes as his posture straightens, slowly leaning back to catch a breath of fresh air (as fresh as it can get, anyway). You watch him readjust his position, lifting his hips instead of his actual body, practically rutting into the thickening air as he shifts. His bubblegum lips curl into a lazy smile as his fingertips circle the rim of the red solo-cup he’s been drinking from. “What if I like you?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Your phone just doesn’t shut up, does it?” There’s clear agitation in his voice, his arched eyebrows furrowed as your feet carry you somewhere much more secluded. Eren trails behind you, his eyes glued on the mound of your ass as you walk. He has to help you occasionally, without even knowing the layout of the place, just so you don’t fall over. The light shine of your phone screen emits across your hip, and he can see the contact of whoever it is that’s so deeply desperate for your attention.

Too bad it’s all on him.

“I’m a pop— popular man.” You finally respond, shutting the door behind you to what Eren assumes is your bedroom in the frat house. It’s between two other bedrooms and across from three more, with a sizable closet that holds more trophies than clothing.

“Can see why, pretty mouth like that,” The words slip before he can think, but it’s worth it to see the way you oh, so conveniently hiccup in response. The implication of you being some type of campus whore makes your throat feel tight, and you can’t help but twitch in your tight pants. “Talks a lot of shit, though.”

“You talk too much.” Correction: he doesn’t talk enough. But you shut him up with a kiss anyway, hungry and frantic because whatever this is, whatever you feel when you look at him, you don’t want it to end. His hands travel under your shirt, cold from his previous icy drinks, and you squirm under his palms. He spreads goosebumps across your skin, and when his fingers brush the bud of your nipples you can’t help but jolt where you stand.

A malicious grin snakes across Eren’s face, all teeth and predatory as he runs his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. “Been thinking about fucking you for weeks. The whole time we were talking, all I could think about was shoving you down on my dick.”

Oh. Your cock aches at that, which is almost already too much for you, you’ve never done this before. Not with a man, not with someone who looks at you like they’re going to devour you whole. You swallow hard, alcohol dispelling from your body the more blood rushes south, and suddenly you’re on your knees, unbuttoning Eren’s jeans with trembling hands.

The door locks behind you, a small click that only the two of you can hear. You look back up at the nerd, who’s watching you intently with a smirk.

He’s a complete juxtaposition to his appearance— if you were a bad man you’d call him a loser, but he exudes dominance and power. You want to wiggle under his gaze, shifting your weight between knees. Eren’s large hands cradle your face, oddly tender and affectionate as he rubs your cheekbones, slowly sliding them to the sides of your head. He lifts your gaze, forcing eye contact.

His glasses hang low on his nose, clouded from his breath as he lets out a satisfied sigh. You want to pull on his hair, flyaways barely reaching the base of his neck as the rest remains in a ponytail.

“This okay?” His tone is beyond sincere.

“Yeah,” You breathe, momentarily losing yourself in the forest of his irises. Blinking rapidly, Eren removes his hands from your head to free himself from his jeans, his long cock decorated in a small vein that disappears below his head. It’s pretty, arched against his stomach and dripping onto his shirt. The leaking precum makes you wonder how long he’s been hard. “Yeah. This is—this is more than okay.”

“Open,” It’s more of a command than anything, Eren’s very hands on, his fingers slipping into your mouth to pull at the corners of your mouth. Your tongue covers your teeth, your mouth watering as his salty fingertips graze your tongue. His other hand is busy working at the head of his cock, twisting smooth circles over the slit until it crashes down against your tongue. Again, and again, and again. “Good boy.”

You find yourself drooling on your jersey, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as his tip rests on your tongue. He goes slow at first, letting you suck on the tip while his fist roams his shaft. You’re a big boy, he knows you can handle much more than just the head— even if he is thick. Your eyes water immediately, gagging instinctually as he shoves his dick deeper into your mouth. “Say thank you.”

Before you can pull away with an answer, both hands return to the back of your head, holding you in place. He encourages you to breathe through your nose, cooing at your inexperienced efforts to catch the drool escaping your mouth, and even goes as far as to wipe one of your tears, “Gonna thank me? F’letting you be such a good, warm n’ wet hole for me?”

You feel yourself nodding, blinking hazily as he rocks in and out of your mouth. There’s a sound you don’t recognize coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, and it has you whimpering on the mouthful of cock. You don’t mean to make such a pitiful noise, but it feels so good, letting yourself go a little brainless over a cute boy.

You slurp loudly— not on purpose, but it earns a throaty chuckle from the man above you. He pulls out to let you breathe, his cock slowly sliding up your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit. The tears in your eyes spill unabashedly, your face nearly crashing against his dick.

“Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

You want to groan, to bang your fists against the wall because he’s being so mean. He knows what you mean, you know what you mean. Regardless, still focused on his cock just inches away from your face, you moan against nothing. It’s a light noise, breathy and quiet but effective enough to make his cock jump. “Please, please— I mean- fuck, thank you for letting me be…yours.”

Eren tuts, feigning annoyance as he grips your chin between his fingers, digging into the soft skin so you’re actually focused on his face. You smile into his palm, eyelashes batting against your cheek and he just can’t help but spit onto your cheek.

“What, d’you just go dumb the second you see some dick?”

You’re barely listening, instead grinding against the fabric of your jeans because his touch treatment has you feeling some kind of way. “Does your girlfriend know her boyfriend’s a cockslut too? Does she know other boys spend their nights getting your holes wet, fuckin’ you in the same bed?”

It’s much easier to hear the vibrations in your pocket now that you’re alone, the only barrier between you being the muffled music on the other side of the door. Eren’s hand leaves your jaw, and you have no complaints when he helps you to remove your jeans.

The jersey can stay on, though. He wants to fuck you in it.

He pushes you into your bed, watching you bounce in the mattress in nothing but your jersey, and helps himself into solely his birthday suit. You’re just as exposed, seemingly moreso, as he pulls your bottom half into his lap. It’s an odd position, not anything you’re used to, maybe your exes and past hookups— but never you.

Eren hunches over, his breath tantalizingly close to your hole. First, he licks a fat stripe across the surface, holding your thighs open when they threaten to instinctively close. You can’t prop yourself up on your elbows at this angle, your feet dangling over his shoulders while he holds you up. The nerd is stronger than he looks.

His tongue is hot and wet, and you feel yourself clenching when a glob of spit lands on your hole. He massages it in with his ring and middle finger, and your body finds itself squirming against his touch. You expect fingers, one at first, maybe, then another. But instead he uses his tongue, lets it dip inside and lap at your insides. Eren looks hungry, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spreads you open and holds you there with an iron grip. A punched-out “Eren!” leaves your lips the second his tongue is lapping you up, leaving tingles up your spine and smog in your brain.

He kneads his fingers into the fat of your thighs, nipping occasionally where your skin folds into your ass, just to get another choked whine out of you. And, oh, you whine. The intrusion isn’t unwelcome, in fact, the feeling of Eren’s face slick with his spit as he tries to get his tongue as deep as he can into you makes your toes curl. You fist your bedsheets, finding comfort in the pillows you’re pressed into, and go as far as to hold yourself open for the man while he goes to grab something.

“Oh, baby. You shouldn’t have,” You shiver at the sound of his dark chuckle, and squeal when his ring finger finds a spot next to his tongue. “Look at that. Hole’s leaking. You just sit here and look pretty while I fuck it on my tongue, hm? Think you can do that?”

“Mhmmm, mhm, yeah! I can— I can do that, ‘Ren.” You sound like a bitch, with your nose buried in your pillow as you moan with every brush to that special spot inside of you. Your cock jumps against your stomach, leaking into your belly button and down your chest. Your jersey is ruined, but so are you, especially when Eren rubs your cock once, twice—

Holy shit. You’re cumming.

“That’s it, come on, give it to me.” Your jersey catches it all, right over your reserved number and embroidered nameplate. Your brain is too fried for you to care, tears streaming down your face as your hole flutters on his tongue and fingers. Sensitive now, moreso than you were before, you whimper and shimmy in Eren’s lap, simultaneously moving toward and away from his touch. He keeps you where you are though, staring at your blissed out face through clouded glasses and licking his lips like he’s just finished eating the best meal he’s ever had. And as if that’s not enough to have you cumming again already, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your puffy hole just for good measure.

“You felt so soft on my tongue, fuck, I almost busted right on you,” His cheeks are pink, and the rosy shade blooms down his neck and disappears into his chest. He pulls you forward by your wrist, sucking on your tongue and licking over your lips so you can taste yourself. He’s gonna be the death of you.“Bet this hole’s gonna be even softer. Nice and warm while you take my cock. Gonna let me cum inside? Pump that soft cunt full until it’s all creamy and used?”

He’s so filthy, so unashamed. The nickname doesn’t go unheard, and despite the slutty moan that you let out in response, part of you wants to pinch him just for that. Damn Eren and his shameless mouth! But you nod anyway, an everlasting stream of ‘yesyesyes’ floating in the air as he lines himself up to finally give you what you’ve been gagging for so prettily.

Eren just can’t help himself. Not when you’re folded up and presenting yourself to him like this. Not when your eyes are wide and your lips are parted and you’re letting out such pretty sounds. Sounds that belong to him. Plus it’s not all on him, you’re the one with an unlocked phone. You’re the one with space in your camera roll.

He’s sure the camera is shaky, maybe even a little blurry, but he makes sure to get your face in it, fucked-out and crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his hand on your jaw. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Eren’s thighs as his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway. It’s a bit half-assed on your part, but who’s gonna blame the guy getting fucked stupid?

“‘Ren, you’re,” You sob in disbelief, eyes rolling along with your hips. “You’re— ohh, you’re fuckin’ me.”

He smiles down at you, feral and heated as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He never seems to stop, always chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. “That’s right, I’m fuckin’ you. Just how you like it, hm? Right in your fuckhole. S’what it’s there for, right?”

“That’s—“ Absurd? Vulgar? Objectification? It’s hot. It’s hot and you know it, Eren knows it, and your dick sure as hell knows it too because you can feel your next orgasm coming. “Yeah. N’my fuckhole.”

He makes a pleased sound in response, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. “Should train you to take this dick.”

“Hold on,” Despite looking straight at him you can’t understand what he’s saying, not until his glasses are placed over your eyes and you’re blinking away the prescription blur. You struggle to collect yourself, wailing as you reach for his free hand that begins to nestle between your jawline and your neck. He squeezes affectionately, lets you cry and arch on his cock while he breathlessly sighs, “You look straight outta my favorite hentai.”

And, technically, you’re making a sextape now. A tape that showcases closeups of his cock disappearing deep inside you, pummeling your puffy hole until it carves the shape of his dick into you. Until only Eren can fit, big and thick and unbelievably deep. A tape that has you, a popular and well-known straight jock, crying on the dick of a guy you just met.

“Eren, m’gonna… ‘Ren—” You may as well scream, your body tensing as you spray across your chest — when did your jersey get bunched up enough to expose you like that? — sticky cum shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body ablaze. He doesn’t let up, castelon eyes narrowed as he fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, milking himself for all he’s worth. “Inside, wanna be full, I deserve it, please, Rennie.”

He bounces you a few times, watching you fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you. It’s the nickname that gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. It’s clear you feel proud of yourself for making him tremble inside you, and Eren takes the opportunity to scrapbook the memory.

“C’mere,” He’s not asking, simply pulling you closer to the camera so it can focus on your cum-stained face. “Smile for me, baby. Tell your ‘girlfriend’ how much you like it in your pussy too.”

2K notes · View notes

onyourhyuck · 1 year

Text

Ultimate Spider-Man: Spider-Mark. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Mark are you— Spider-Man?”

— Summary: Wherein one night you were saved by Spider-Man from a bunch of men harassing you and you find out it’s your enemy all along.

— Genre: Coming Of Age. Romance. Spiderman!mark. Mentions of hero duties. Smut smut smut minors Dni. enemies/rivals to lovers trope. Big dick mark agenda. Mention of getting harassed and attacked on the street. Mark jumps out a building with y/n. Medic students. Y/n is a confident queen. Fingering female receiving. Head receiving female. Spit mention. Breast play. Unprotected sex (wrap your willies pls ty.)

— Notes: Spider Mark fic <3

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Sometimes you hate the fact that you’re craving to be better than everyone around you and you wonder how come your first thought was to crush someone’s inability to be good at something? You blame your academic validation and growing up unloved but that doesn’t give you an excuse to want to be the best student on top of everyone’s graves. However someone was making it difficult.

Mark Lee was the top grader in your classes. Currently you’re both majoring in biology courses which are both to do with medical practices the more you progress within the year — you see it very much upsets you to have Mark get one question right than you or to see him get praised by the professors very much gets under your thin skin you can’t handle it. It doesn’t help that the boy seems genuinely humble and hard working too.

Maybe you’re being petty and so what if you are? No one’s got anything in university other than becoming successful and that’s exactly what your freaking goal is. If you cannot overcome this and defeat Mark in becoming the top student then you haven’t succeeded you’ve failed no matter if you get that damn medical degree.

You are envious of people who are laid back and could relax because they find things easy on the exams or the fact that they aren’t overburden by work. You really don’t understand how you are the one working hard ten times more and somehow they end up scoring good without trying. Maybe you’re different and it’s more of an you problem. But let yourself complain.

Walking down the stairs where many university students were occupied by the buddy next to them unlike you, you’re very much full on ‘social distancing don’t speak to me’ type of person, because you dislike social interactions. You’re here to study not to become buddy friendly with other students here and get distracted from your goal. In your hands you carried your workload books for studying that you wrote your class notes in. You don’t dare waste any detail out you honestly dote down everything the professors say in hope it will give you extra markings when the exams come.

Your eyes caught glimpse on a younger boy your age with coloured-hair that irks your eyes wherever you are it was impossible to miss them, skin full of melanin that the sun reflects onto it, beauty marks on specific places that could make someone weak to the knees. Your brain took in so much information at once that you didn’t even need it to confirm who it was, you simply just knew who it were coming up the stairway catching your attention’s breathe.

The man stops on the way up when the eyes walked to your direction stopping midway. You were the complete opposite direction but still all the attention went to you as if you were attracting it away from him without doing anything too much. The friend next to him stops, they were speaking but seeing how their friend went quiet to look over at you, they stop on the tracks as well and go quiet.

Mark feels like he was about to be eaten in a lion den with the way you’re watching him with your epiphany disgust. “Oh hey y/n. You off to study the new sheet professor Ahn gave us?” You hate how his voice was friendly and polite to you even though you’re both aware of your deep surrounding rivalry and dislike each others feelings.

“Yeah unlike you clearly.” You shot downwards raising suspicion that Mark was probably slacking off entirely. “You don’t look like you’re going to be studying it for tomorrow’s test.” You scorn. Mark’s eyes travel around as he tries to figure out how to use the information to you. Mark’s hands slipped in the front pockets and that smirk widens.

“I’ve already done the work, actually.” He said matter-of-factly as he saw the burning fire in your eyes. He was always ten steps ahead of you, always, it annoys you. No, actually it fucking angers you. Mark had the audacity to put it in your face because he was glad to see you near-wanting to murder him but he knew you wouldn’t. You’re just trying not to show how much it bothers you.

Your lips fell into a thin line that could seriously harm someone if they got too close, like it was a sword laying flat offensively ready to jab the heart of Mark Lee and fully discard it. Your voice scowls out to the storing area. “Shove off Mark.” You say trying to get past him and his friend, Donghyuck but the boys were blocking your pathway until your shoulders jumped each other roughly.

You leave them on the stairway and Mark turns around following you with a serious gaze. His shoulders clicked the moment you reached your destination with it and your shoulders were bumping roughly.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Y/n and her bitchy attitude always on your case Mark Lee.” It was unbelievable how much you’re ready and willing to ruin his friends day. Mark on the other hand shrugs sighing. “Truth hurts sometimes.” He quotes. Donghyuck laughs following Mark from behind as they continue going uphill the stairs. “Your entire fucking existences hurts Y/n. It’s kind of funny to watch.”

The boys were trailing off to the distance and you were on your own once again. The location to your next finding was the café down the road. It was out of campus bounds but it was really the only place that you could relax and stay as much as you want because the owner of the café lets you stay there for extra timings whenever you need to do your serious revision. Sometimes being inside the school building was more of a destructive distraction than a place where you could focus and learn. It’s ironic really knowing some students aren’t as serious as you, but no harm done you found your own element where you can relax and become more active in studying.

The new work sheet that Mark has spoken about with you made you rethink how quick he must’ve figured this one out. For you it took a few minutes expending to an hour. It was a difficult question that has different interpretations than what you are looking for meaning it was a no right or wrong answer — but it really made it difficult too.

Somehow you struggle forming your own opinion of it because it doesn’t matter what you think you’re more of a ‘There is one answer wrong and one is correct, pick the right one’ type of person. You’re not here to analyse you’re here to get the right one so you are ensured to be correct.

You suck on your bottom teeth, watching the paper. “This freaking riddle… I can’t stand this type of questions. They’re always beating around the bush.” You complain. You can’t bring yourself to made a hypothesis like this about, so you close the book when you huff out.

The owner of the café seeing you blow rough air underneath your face made them look over seeing you struggle to come with an answer to the work question.

“You okay there miss?” The man said with a look grasping at you where you sat on the table locating near the window. You look up at where the voice was pointing from.

The man with blonde hair and glasses on, holding with both palms a table cloth and water spray bottle. Seemingly they were cleaning up from previous customers who dine at the café before they left.

Your eyes linger on the man who was surprisingly quite handsome. He looked way older than you but he was hella charismatic enough to leave you thinking he were a musician or a model with the face he’s got. “Ah yes. Just revisiting previous work because of upcoming exams.” You explain looking back at the paper and then at the man.

Taeyong’s mouth forms a large ‘Oh?’ as he comes forward trading on the table he shows a gentle smile seeing how you must be an university student. You even had a bunch of notes on the side and your bag was on the other chair sitting on it there. It really reminds him of past him when he was a student stressed with Uni work to the point he considered dropping out — nearly.

“What are you studying if i can ask you?” Taeyong would ask pointing the daggers at the sheets. You would spare the man a short glance. “Biology and Medicine. It’s a combined effort course.” You’d explain as your mind moves to the question.

He was impressed seeing how well you were handling this subject he knows many medical students who tell people it’s so difficult it left them mentally drained out — half looking corpses even. But you? You had a bright face and a good smile. You seem like you know what you’re doing but at the same time you don’t get the pressure get to you.

“You must be smart. I heard that courses to do with medicine related require a high dropping rate.”

You smirk eyeing Taeyong up and down. “Yeah well… I try my hardest to stay on the top of the list.” The owner sensed a little arrogance but it wasn’t necessary a bad thing when it came now. You’re proud and that’s it. “What did you study then?” You ask suddenly.

Taeyong’s eyes travel around the café as he walks away to clean more tables and as he did this you watch him wipe down more of the white round tables with the cloth while he sprays the cleaning spray bottle on it.

“Me? I went to university to study a little bit of languages.” Your eyes widen as you spoke over. “Whoa languages? You must be more of a genius than i am then.”

Taeyong scoffs. “Trust me. I can barely speak the language we’re speaking in right now. I wish though. Now I’m just a simple café owner.”

It was nice knowing that Taeyong lives the life he feels comfortable and the happiest in even though it wasn’t exactly an easy path when he was younger, in university trying to learn languages and hopefully become a translator with a good paying job. But now even if he wasn’t making that much money he was happy that he got to open up this café in this first place; it was like a new beginning, a new opportunity has risen into his life trying to show him a way to live. And the man took it. It made you think about yourself and how your life is looking currently.

Even the smallest person you think of can change the course of the future.

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The road is midnight under the cloud, yet beyond is the dawn. You’re walking through the tunnel trying to make sense of the starry painting above as the sun has set a long ago. its rising is alternating between the times, it was too late and you left the café now. Taeyong has kept you company by speaking with you giving the courage who wait in faith for your upcoming exams. And so, even though you left happier and refreshed it dimmers down the minute you were alone. Walking with your hands cold and shuddering inside the pockets of your hoodie. You didn’t bring a jacket with you, it was quite warm in the day and suddenly the night made it freezing as if it were a course of the winter.

Sometimes you rather think the forecasts have it out for the weather. It’s too bipolar to even consider.

The bag slipped on your singular right shoulder resting there with its long beige straps. It was a tote bag enough to hold your university stuff as well as a laptop if you wanted to bring it along. It can hold textbooks and even some clothing if you wished to bring them in or with you anywhere. It was conscientious convenient that these bags exist without them you’d be stuck with a stuffed school bag having to drag it on your poor back. You’d imagine the back pain to be a hassle.

Nonetheless you were spacing through the tunnel and then making your way out. You’d take the route from the café to the park late at night. There was a long tunnel you have to pass through from the streets and under it you go through revealing the large park pathway. The dark green grass sticking out and the trees around you occasionally watch out of boredom.

Your hands were under your waistband area holding in one palm your phone. It has probably thirty percentage left on it. You reckon you’d stay longer in the café if only your portable charger wasn’t out of battery. It leaves you with only one choice to leave and head back to your apartment.

The park was closed away from the people, normal residents were asleep at this time and only the people working night shifts were roaming but not inside the park. You thought you were the only one, until in the far distance you saw a group huddling the path from the far. Right now it was far too away to tell what the men were doing so you didn’t think anything of it.

Your apartment was close by the university and slightly far away from the café and the park you’re strolling down through. If you had to make a guess it would only take twenty minutes by foot to make it back to your home.

‘Just what on earth was happening over there?’ You can’t help but come closer taking a look at the crowd. It was a bunch of men beating down another man.

They sent down a panic alert to your spine and you rush forward when the men turn to notice your presence approaching. Big wrong move because you’re now having fullest attention brought to you, a young woman alone in a dark part trying to get by, looking like you were trying to disturb them from teaching a young guy a lesson.

The man with a ragged tooth was the most interested in you. He showed the more intrusive thoughts of you. He found you quite charming with the way you rushed into a dangerous situation without a single thought.

“Yah! Leave that man alone. He is bleeding. You’ll kill him at that rate.” You scream but kept a promising distance still but enough for you to have a view of what they did to the poor boy.

He was coughing out blood on the floor trying to get up but whenever he brought the strength to do something the men surrounding him looking like gangsters were ready to kick his back down forcing him to be flat on the ground, defenceless and unable to move. You couldn’t stand watching something this cruel and gruesome, heck the sight of blood was too much for you to take, you hate seeing blood. It freaks you out and to see another man bleeding near-to-death really ruins you up with anxiety.

The man cackled at your reactions, you can’t help but think they might be on the psychopath side more than the humane. It wasn’t normal to be this cruel. “You can join us how about that?” The man was taking steps to you and the minute you tried to run back showing your phone. “I will call the police if you take another step forward!” You threaten them.

It didn’t work.

You weren’t sure why you thought it would work. The men in front of you look like they don’t care for consequences, so why would they care for police? Your threats were pushed aside just like you were grabbed with your wrist throwing you on the ground discarding your phone you drop it. The man crawling above you made sure your wrists were straddling both ways in his hands.

Then you look over to the man. Your brain soon realised you’re being crowded by not one man but now you were cradled by multiple men — all together they were ten men guarding you with a demonic look on their faces you can’t explain. It felt like a dark power within them that scared you.

You were gripped so hard you can’t avoid their slimy hands that touched your hair, finding it super soft and beautiful, the others tried the best to sneak their way to your clothing but you were squirming and screaming. Heck you even tried to bite them off literally!

The man laying on the floor saw you becoming their target and he ran away for it. You widen your eyes watching him run away. ‘That bastard! He ran away!’ You can’t believe it, you literally tried to save him!

The minute you thought you were doomed, the men were practically near to ready to strip you off the clothes. Your blouse was coming undone with the ribbon knot coming off revealing your collarbones and then you clench your eyes screaming. “SOMEONE HELP ME, ANYONE.”

You prayed, you really did. You’re not even a religious person anyways but you prayed for you to be safe and saved by someone. The minute you thought you died you were welcomed to see a man flying across the park, thrown with a kick and flying so many yards it was inhuman for a normal person to kick someone in the air so far with such speed and precision. Your eyes widen trembling at who this new person coming in, it felt like a new predator ready to eat you and the gangsters men who near-harassed yourself. You couldn’t tell if he was helping you or if he was ready to kill you too. The men were distracted by the new force encouraging them to fight.

Yourself you felt a shiver down your spine. No one saw the person who was assassinating them in the darkness it’s as if they were the darkness itself. You felt too exposed meanwhile you trying to track the invisible force targeting the enemies were one by one dropping like freaking flies over here.

It scared you, scared you because you might be the next fly who drops dead.

“Where is that bastard coming from?!” One man yelled out loud.

“Woohoo, here piggy!” A voice suddenly called out causing them to turn around to see a hanging man on a tree floating by a spiderweb. Your eyes itch on what you saw.

The man thrown a punch the minute he saw the red man only to get a headbutt falling unconscious with a possible broken nose.

He unlatch from the tree. The spiderweb retracting back into the hands and he begins to walk on the park pathway you were laying there onto. The last man standing was behind you grabbing you up getting out a knife to your neck which made you confused, everything was so quick happening in just a span of zero point five you can’t figure out how you’re now held against a knife to your throat. You felt your oxygen pressure levels rising and you could no longer breathe.

The figure that was outlined disappeared and you can’t help but close your eyes murmuring prayers. “Please God help me, I’m sorry for not doing enough good for this world! I swear I’ll be a changed woman if i live…”

You can’t believe yourself you’re literally praying out loud. The man clench the blade to your throat and suddenly a warm liquid drops down on it. Your eyes widen as you felt the scar incoming. Your own blood slowly dripping down the blade and the man’s wrist too on the park ground.

“Shut up, or I will slice your throat.”

You take a mental note shutting up instantly, but then a thrust of wind blows you off the ground and your eyes shut down seeing blackness till you’re feeling two muscular arms pull you up and your clothing blew on the cold air sliding on your body. You felt the chest brush on your skin and you look up opening one eye, slowly opening your second eye, shocked to see spiderman has come back to save you. You, the person who was supposed to be in another man’s arms with a knife to your throat.

The spiderman came round with a web attaching to a tree flinging back with his legs doing a round house kick knocking the man over unconscious and the knife into the air landing somewhere on the grassy land. You couldn’t help but stay mesmerised he was holding you while fighting the bad guy?

What can he not do?

Your body was in the air as Spider-Man kept his hand on your body never letting you go. He swung with one muscular hand with a spider web between the buildings. He spoke to you breaking the silence, but didn’t look you into the eye, you were the one staring at him all this freaking time panicking deep inside. “Where do you live I’ll drop you off there.” He asked you firmly but you were here pausing for a long silence.

He wasn’t sure why you were so quiet until you break out of your long thoughts making you so absent minded it was out of your character.

“I- live in…” you nearly forgot where you lived you couldn’t believe it. The Spider-Man wanted to laugh seeing you so confused and lost while trying to figure out your tongue when to speak.

“There in that apartment block.” You simply move your hands pointing to the building.

Without a reply you were brought inside the building dropping you off by your door where spiderman stood still seeing your feet latch on the ground once again. Your clothing were on your body but your blouse was undone and Spider-Man occasionally avoided looking at you and instead he found the ground rather more interesting — you wanted to ask him to look at you so you could thank him but you soon realise what the problem was.

You loudly stutter out. “O-oh shit…” you grumble turning around fixing the buttons on your blouse. He turns to you again. “You’re not hurt right?”

The question was something you weren’t even sure if you were physically hurt or mentally hurt? How do you answer a question you don’t know how to answer.

You were going to say no but your hands suddenly rub down your neck and you brought it back to your view seeing blood on your palm from where you touched your neck on. Your eyes widen and you look back at the man in front of you, covered in a disguise. You weren’t sure who you were even speaking to — in reality it’s awful discomfiting how much you feel safer with a man in a fucking suit than people who don’t wear a disguise.

“I’ll be oka—“

He grabbed your wrist so softly you felt like he was cautiously careful with you. You had no choice but to come forward and love your neck to the side so he can get a full access view of the little cut on your neck from how hard that man was bruising the knife blade to your skin. You felt his hand caress the wound with his free hand and he looks at your apartment door pulling away from your neck.

He wanted to think ‘you’re not okay, you’re far from it.’ He can’t help but think why on earth were you out there so late and don’t you realise how dangerous the world is? He prays to God you realise and take notes from this situation to not make it repeat itself like old history. You saw the man look at your apartment door and letting your wrist go, you retract it back down holding it yourself.

“Can you invite me inside your apartment so i can tend to your neck wound? I cant leave it untreated.” He was so strict and stern, you wonder if he does this to everyone he saves.

‘He probably has to do this. It’s his job, Y/n.’

You couldn’t refuse the offer because two things: one he was doing his job and he probably had no choice but to treat you, and two, you want to repay him for saving your ass somehow. You were reckless today and thanks to your kind actions all you got was nearly being killed.

So much for being selfless, that man who was beaten up left you to die. He saved himself and he didn’t save you at all.

“Sure come in.” You open the apartment door unlocking it with your keys. Both entering a dark apartment you dimly lit the lamp over so you can see roaming the apartment that wasn’t too small nor too big it was probably a good spacious space for a single student studying down the road. This apartment was the only thing you could afford thankfully your parents gave you enough money to pay for this renting it.

Luckily you sometimes work down the library doing volunteering and you happen to get paid that way too. It pays a good amount of money that you allows you to pay the upcoming month’s rent.

Not like it matters you’re almost done with university, almost there you just have to ‘defeat’ Mark Lee with your grade paper by scoring higher and bam; you’ll be satisfied with your hard longing work and you will get your results and degree.

The man coming inside your apartment saw the opportunity to look around your apartment by letting his eyes wander. It was a nice cozy apartment. The couch was leather black and you had a decently size tv on the wall attached. The windows were large letting enough sunlight if it was day but since it’s night currently the only light source was the lamp.

He saw you coming back after hearing you rummage through your kitchen getting the first aid kit out and seeing you walk over he was sitting down on the couch letting you sit next to him. You were both silent until you let your mouth open.

You had so much questions, so many answers you were looking for, but he couldn’t answer them. He wanted to let you to not take it to heart.

He wanted to but he couldn’t answer them.

“Thank you for saving me…” you say softly as you saw the man in the suit sitting in front of you looking like he knew what he was doing exactly, you couldn’t believe it he knew how to professionally apply disinfectant on a cotton pad, he knew how to handle stitches too and he knew what to use on an open bleeding wound.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but you found yourself wondering how come he moved like a medical student?

His deep voice hit you like a train. “It’s my job. You don’t have to thank me for anything.” He goes quiet for a minute when applying the burning cotton pad on your wound rubbing it in stripping motion. You flinch and he saw you bite on your bottom lip at the burning dent on your neck.

It was a stinging sensation you couldn’t fight.

He spoke again trailing at one thought he was wondering all this night ever since saving you. “Why were you out this late anyways? Don’t you know bad guys are out on about the streets at night.” He was almost scolding you but you couldn’t help it when finding it was kind of comforting to have someone care for you. Even though you’ve never met them before.

“I am a busy uni student. I have my priorities to become the best of my class.” You state firmly, somehow stunning the man bearing you to say that you’d rather do everything in your power to succeed.

Somehow he felt your perfectionism and determination inspiring.

“I can’t let Mark Lee get a higher score than me.” You mutter suddenly out thinking back to the boy in your class who just boils your blood by being perfect.

You look away but you felt your throat clench when seeing his face come closer to clean it with another clean cotton pad letting the wound sink and dry no longer becoming a dry blood mess. He was making sure your neck was clean and not just tending to your wound, meanwhile cleaning he checked the rest of your body by quickly scooping with his eyes checking for any more casualties. “I don’t know why i got involved. I did an altruistic thing to someone and look where it got me.”

You scowl out scoffing with irony in your throat. This is why you prefer not being kind to people because this ends up later on. You get hurt in return.

“So much for being altruistic my ass.” You grumble.

You heard the man chuckle deeply shaking his head. He found it quite hard to believe you got involved to protect someone but at the same time there was a humane side to you where you do care. He puts the first aid equipment back into the box and closed it for you indicating he was done.

“Well you’d rather study your brain off so late to the point you could nearly get murdered? You must be the brightest student your school has.” It was a compliment melting your heart and you felt exposed and embarrassed. You can’t believe you rented to him about Mark Lee, your obsession with your grades and now your current near to death experience.

He saw your flustered expression as you gently laugh it off under your breathe, it was the softest laugh, the laugh you can’t hear but barely your ears could hear a glimpse of it in the longing air distance between your bodies.

“I’m sure you can beat that guy Mark Lee at your exams. I believe in you.”

The first time someone said they believe in you. Your heart couldn’t take such words in at first until your brain duly processed them and proclaim them to be true. It felt like a lie but in reality it was truth spoken from the heart deep inside the saviour who risked their life and time to keep you safe and protected. You smile, unconcealed by your frown or the usual expression you wear. You smiled from your heart and not from your logical perspective self.

You grumble. “Hate to break it to you but I don’t think i can because tomorrow we have this test and i don’t have a written answer for the question we are answering tomorrow.”

You pull the sheet out from your bag that you nearly forgot back into the park thankfully, your saviour has grasped it for you. The sheet of paper was placed in front of the man and you.

You sigh out wanting to pull your freaking hair out of your head because you couldn’t find or come up with an answer to this question.

He read it aloud. “What other medications could you provide to a patient who is diagnosed with a non-ST elevation myocardial infarction?” You look at him from the side humming.

“Meaning you have to make your own hypnosis as to why you’re picking this medication and what will you do once you give him it and what furthermore will you proceed.” You sigh out. “I don’t do well with questions like this and honestly i can only think of one medicine. But you can’t use this one. It has to be other medications and methods used.”

You weren’t expecting anything from the man sitting down but the minute you saw him grabbing a pencil from the table that was lying about randomly he starts writing a diagram for you to see on the sheet and your eyes widen at what you’re seeing written down within the same time space. Your thoughts about the man being a professional medic was now coming back and you were so convinced with the way he was giving you an explanation that he was something close to your subject.

Heck maybe he was a doctor who the fuck knows?

“Here,”

He puts the pencil down now facing you again. “You can use enoxaparin for the patient’s medication with a side of dual anti platelet treatment and resistance that way they will be able to get a higher chance of recovery.”

It’s the way he explained this to you and you finally had a light bulb moment it literally felt like it. He opened your eyes to an answer and you face the man in a spiderman suit. If you’re being honest you weren’t expecting spiderman to be helping you with your exam answer for tomorrow so you could pass heck you weren’t even sure if this was real. It felt like a fever dream being saved by a superhero while you were still stressing with work and now he was helping you with your school work.

You stutter out reading the whole planned out section that you could do in your exam. “Wait… how— how did you know that you can use enoxaparin for a patient with a non-ST elevation myocardial infarction.”

But the minute you turned to look around to your side to see the man in the suit disguised becoming a whole enigma to your existence he was gone no longer next to you as if he vanished from thin air and you held your breathe.

Looking around the apartment helplessly.

Your eyes land back to the sheet paper holding eye contact with the handwriting and rub your fingers on them.

‘Just who are you, Spiderman?’

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The freshman passing to get to their classes made you wonder if you would ever miss these classes and traffics on your way to get to them, you’d have to say no. You can’t wait to graduate and leave this hell joke because freshman are truly the most annoying grade you’ve ever encountered.

On your way to the great hall where everyone in your class was seated ready to do the test ahead. You spent your whole night writing an hypnosis and memorising it so you could re write it on the real exam paper.

As you walk to your seat you bump into a boy you’ve not been looking forward to meeting, again. “Mark move out my way you’re blocking my seat.” You are complaining this early in the morning? How do you have the energy to do this.

Mark can’t help but not argue back it’s been so early in the morning he doesn’t even want to hear you and your disgraceful attitude to constantly get on his case. You push through his seat and sit down the same lane but only three seats away from him. Mark was asleep resting on the table but you were revising and re reading your notes meanwhile he was sleeping. You can’t help but think he’s being incredibly rude by not taking this as seriously as you and everyone else in this hall.

From every corner there was a medical student looking back on to their notes, so why wasn’t he? Even if you’re so tired you can’t move, you should at least try to look like you’re doing something.

You murmur under your breathe. “So much for showing off. If you wish to sleep you shouldn’t of come at all.”

‘He’s so unbearable.’ You complain.

The boy lifts his head up. You notice the fleek of his blue-ish silver alike hair was messy almost as if he didn’t even try to brush it yet he made it look super good despite being the normal bed hair.

He shots at you trotting back with the same energy and attitude as you. If you’re going to be insufferable he might as well match your horrible words too. “Mind your own business and focus on your own work.”

He grits his teeth at you. “I ain’t the one who constantly gets a point lesser than the work I’ve submitted.” He stalls. “Starting to think you’re a bitch by default.”

You stop watching him completely bite back and chew you open and then, just to chew you up again and spit you out into the bin like you’re nothing but rotten gooey mess that cannot be digested.

You didn’t reply but you can’t help but find Mark to be incredibly off the edge today and the minute the professor came in handing out the test papers the game was on. Your brains were on the A game trying to answer with much detail to the question everyone should’ve been revising yesterday. You remember that last night Spiderman has helped you and you were taking his advice with a mix of your own method process to make it your own work too. You felt confident now and unlike before, you’d actually think you might finally have a good hypothesis —better than Mark Lee’s.

The exam surprisingly went well however and you and Mark were both left in the hall finishing up the last touches. You finished before Mark only by twenty minutes until he came running his eyes behind you seeing you walk away with a proud smug.

Your paths disconnected. You walked away but unlike then you realised you forgot your own phone and airpods on the desk.

“Shit!”

You ran back going up the stairs in hurry and then forcing your way back into the hall you open the door wifely. The professor was out of bounds for a little bit only leaving Mark walking out of the lane but you bump into him suddenly knocking his stuff out of the arms and he looks at you.

He was staring you down in disbelief finding this incredibly annoying. He founds you super annoying today and he doesn’t know why or what. He can’t put his fingers on why you keep getting in his way.

You look away glaring. “Ugh watch where you’re going Lee.” You grumble going down on your knees lifting his stuff up. Hey at least you’re helping him.

Mark sighs grabbing his back and pen off the floor meanwhile you grab his piece of exam sheet he’s written loads on. But your eyes caught onto something similar and your brain suddenly flickers like you’ve connected a dot to another dot.

enoxaparin and Dual anti pallet?

You couldn’t believe it but the same handwriting and the same words you’ve heard from last night it really struck you until a harsh arm reaches out grabbing it out of your fingers glaring at you.

Mark looks at your dazed expression grumbling. “Hope you’re not cheating by being nosey Hm?” He side tracks pushing past you putting his exam paper on the pile with the rest of them and then going back up the stairs leaving through the door .

You held your gaze at him grabbing your phone and airpods running after the boy suddenly, suddenly you’re looking for an answer for your conspiracy theory.

‘There’s no way he’s spiderman, there’s no way!’

You caught him outside walking out the campus and down the road you’ve seen Mark stop turning around to see you shouting his name on top of your lungs. You catch your breathe, he saw the bright red colour on your cheeks from simply running after him all the way from the campus Uni to the freaking city roads. Mark raised an eyebrow judging why you’re following him when in reality — you wanted answers you seek so badly.

You want to wish you’re wrong. Your enemy cannot be your saviour that you are thankful for.

It makes this whole situation stupid on yourself. If you’re the one being fooled, god you don’t know what you’d do.

“Mark are you— Spider-Man?”

You ask him panting out heavily catching your legs before straightening upwards your body. The way your gaze fell apart the minute Mark raised his eyes up in surprise at your assumption.

Mark didn’t know why he couldn’t say no to you.

He wasn’t even sure why you’re catching onto him and if you are he wants to know how.

Somehow, you knew from his gaze. His gaze alone gave you an answer.

Mark grabs your wrist suddenly pulling you away. “What makes you say that, Y/n?” He was seriously asking you now and you were terrified wondering what he’s about to do.

He grabbed your wrist leading you up to a rooftop on a building that wasn’t even locked. The lock in the door was broken letting anyone walk up there for a long view of Seoul city and you’ve never felt more terrified of heights until now.

The boy from your class, your enemy and rival, the one you despise pushed you to the railings of the building staring into your eyes. His eyes were filled with tension and fear wondering what you’ll do if you find out his truth. His secret he’s kept from even his family.

Heck you weren’t sure what you’d do yourself if it was true.

“Wait why are we here?” You blabber out suddenly. Why the rooftop?

Mark ignored your requested question and simple puts the bag down and his shoes off. Your eyes widen as you saw Mark now trailing over the freaking railing of the rooftop standing on the edge and your mouth drops down thousand pieces before you knew it you shouted for him to stop.

“Wait- Mark holy fuck what are you doing!!” You slowly approach him and Mark turns to you making you stop with a single look at you.

He paused looking down at the heights above. It was fifteen stories high, maybe even more fox knows what. You couldn’t believe what Mark was doing and you felt like you were pressured into doing something to save your freaking enemy.

He spoke so seriously and sternly. “You asked me if I’m spiderman,” he looks at you again. “What do you think is the correct answer, Y/n?”

You weren’t sure.

If anything you were going based on your instinct and the handwriting you saw last night. It looked identical to the one Mark wrote on the exam paper today. It just made you think maybe it was him.

But now that Mark was standing on the railings looking like he was about to jump any minute you weren’t fucking sure. You’re contemplating. Second guessing your answer.

Conflicting information accounts your reality.

“Answer.” He demands shouting at you.

Seeing you flinch like you’re freezing and terrified to death he could see you shout back just as much at him.

“Yes! Okay! I think you’re fucking spider-man who saved me last night.”

And that is when your heart sank like it was drowning in between the seven seas completely squished between the contracting waves and the black hole draining you to a drift mark between your only breath of hope. As your heart broke down you could feel yourself dropping down after Mark. You crawled down the railings and jumped down right after the boy trying to grab his hand. He was dropping fast from each floor story —

15…

14…

13…

By the time you knew it you’re linking past two digits into singular and Mark opens his eyes widening seeing you drop down to grab him. ‘You’re so stupid…’ he couldn’t help but find your way down with him recklessly looking on you. For someone who’s so smart you have a way of becoming irrational.

You thought you were going to die until Mark grabbed you suddenly by your hands interlocking them. As he held your hand so tightly you felt your entire world swoosh open like an upside tennis ball on an open court. A huge spiderweb as connected you back to the rooftop that you jumped out off in the first lane.

Mark carried you over the railings as you were shaking gasping out for breath because he took it away.

You nearly doubted him being spiderman, because the only reason you jumped down was to save him knowing he was spiderman.

You fell to your knees holding your chest. Mark follows your outline silhouette of your hourglass and you glare looking at him.

“I’m not sure if you’re fucking dumb or if you enjoy being in dangerous situations.”

He seethes between his teeth harshly.

“Me dumb?” You repeated. You wanted to laugh for a minute at his audacity. You’re not the one who jumped down a flight of fifteen stories because you wanted to prove something to someone.

He was suddenly hit by hit hand against his chest. “You fucking— psycho!”

“Okay I deserve that.” He states understanding why you’re exactly cursing him.

Mark saw you curse him in long strings of words and shouts he couldn’t tell which one it was — words or freaking lyrics to a Kanye west song?

“What the fuck was your motive for this.”

“I didn’t know if i could trust you with my identity.” He sores out and you face him with your gaping mouth.

“So you think jumping down fifteen stories and me jumping after you will make you trust me? What’s fucking wrong with you— Y’know what you need to be put into a psych ward.” You blast. “There’s a thing called communication, Mark Lee!”

“Right…”

Mark looks at you finally calming down as you reclaimed your oxygen inside your deprived body it felt like the whole adrenaline was hunting you down. The boy came to an conclusion that you were one of a kind — no one would jump for their enemy or even an academic rival you wish to destroy. But you did it.

He wants to know how you caught him too, but he could take a guess.

“Question Y/n—“

“Hm?” You hum out softly turning around and the boy stops speaking as your calm and relaxed eyes rest on him.

You weren’t looking at him like you want to hate him in fact you were just looking at him without a singular emotion except perhaps, a hint of gladness maybe?

You could feel Mark’s breath returning. “How’d you find out I’m… spiderman.”

You’d smirk. “Your handwriting.”

He sighs out. “Dammit. I knew that would be a problem.” You laugh a little knowing he must feel slightly caught but lucky for him you aren’t going to expose him.

He did save you, you owe him that much.

“Hey Mark?”

Mark looks up at you finally catching a whiff of your hair scent when the air blows behind your head and your back. He couldn’t smell anything else but a hint of your watermelon and strawberry shampoo. It made him somehow feel better about it, knowing it was such a pleasant smell.

You smile at him. “Wanna come to my apartment and start anew?” You couldn’t help but think maybe you and Mark could become friends.

He saved you, even though you treated him like badly because of wanting to be better than him.

He could photosnap a picture of your smile like this if he was honest. He would. “Sure Y/n.”

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It’s crazy how much the dynamic between you wanting to ram Mark Lee’s face into a wall every morning whenever you’re on the way to your class to now actually cooking with Mark Lee in your apartment kitchen casually making ramen together.

You weren’t sure how you got here.

But let’s not question it, you thought.

Mark casually chops spring onion into thin slices as you drain the ramen out the water and then slowly put them into two bowls: one for you and one for mark.

Mark sees you opening the sauce packets and pour the sauce over the noodles in the bowls. He brings out the chopsticks and walks to the fridge humming.

“Now let’s see what drinks you have in the fridge.” He’d look inside the fridge and he sees the options looking very sad and bleak.

He looks at you from the side. “Really? No juice except for water?”

You thinly smile. “If you’re going to complain how about you buy yourself juice down the store.”’

He rolls his eyes as you blatantly throw a sarcastic threat that wasn’t very, sarcastic at the same time. He grabs the cold iced water out the fridge slamming the door and walking over pouring it into one cup. He passed you it and you look up.

“For me?” You let out taking it. “Thanks. You’re not so bad as i thought.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

You shrug smirking grabbing the bowl to take it inside the living room. The boy follows you from behind with his very own plate of the noodles in and you put the tv on letting it play in the background.

As you guys ate in peace occasionally you guys spoke asking each other questions about the most random things.

It started off asking about the weirdest thing that happened to you.

You both answered each other, guess it was fate?

“I really envied you Mark.” You boost as you dig your chopsticks into the ramen eating. Mark couldn’t really understand how you can envy him, but he always had a feeling you were out to destroy him for whatever reason.

You guess he now knows how you truly felt. You were filled with jealousy and hate because he in your eyes was probably the most perfect person out. The ideal student. The ideal son. The ideal husband for a woman. You kinda grew a sour taste in your mouth ever since meeting him but you feel now perhaps it could be a sweeter one where you don’t have to actively hate each other.

Mark sat there watching you eat but he really doesn’t know how you could be there envying him when you are there sitting looking effortlessly pretty on the face overall eating ramen, at home while you’re equally smart too.

“Do you need help with that?”

He would ask pointing to the hair that keeps falling down into your food everytime you lower your face to take a bite from the chopsticks. You were caught by surprise when Mark’s hands moves closer rolling up your long hair around his fists like a ponytail and lets you take a clean bite on the ramen. You chew happily smiling and Mark felt a sort of happiest seeing you eat with a wide smile.

You look back at him seeing how he stayed still holding your hair in his hands, rolling it up so nicely. You never told him to do that, but he did it anyways.

You guess it must be the side effect of being a worldwide super hero. You have to help others without asking.

Your eyes take a moment to appreciate Mark up close. It’s a rare moment given, so you didn’t waste time taking all the small details about his handsome face.

Yes, he is handsome. You have to give him that.

Mark saw the way your eyes fell on his lips and then back to his eyes going in a circle trying to see where you can look. It’s like you can’t keep a straight eye contact with him at the same time, you don’t have to look at his lips to be obvious.

It wasn’t long till his deep timber voice brought you back to reality where your bodies closeness was still there awaiting for sign movement. “Earth to Y/n?” He softly chuckles seeing you break apart.

You look up at him. “You zoned out on me Y/n.” He beams lightly watching you put the chopsticks down. You clear your throat.

“Sorry.” You reply with a smile, your attention goes back onto Mark no matter what. He’s a magnet for your eyes.

“Must be my handsome face distracting you.” It was a joking quote but little did he know it was exactly why you’re zoning out. Because of his handsome face and you weren’t sure how to reply until you’d roll your eyes over scoffing out as if that could ever happen.

You hum. “So you’re crazy and delusional.” You quote back and Mark smirks turning to you giving you a little nudge.

“All the best people are, honey.” He throws.

You sometimes wonder how did he get such quick comebacks for everything you’ve got to say it’s like he’s a complete generator ready and made to defeat you at every word on the end.

He has to have the last word.

“Honey?” You said back surprised to know he used such a given nickname.

He looks at you smiling as he ate more of the ramen. You felt your cheeks grew slightly pink.

‘Honey.’ You repeated.

Your attentions were soon moved to another conversation you two ended up bringing in and it was about your class. Of course the thing you’re both seriously insane about and you could tell this would be a whole war between you two.

But somehow this was different at the same time it wasn’t too. You both were disagreeing and debating argument but now you are talking with it like normal people. You’re not avoiding him.

Mark enjoys seeing you debate with him.

He loves a good challenge and a different point of view too.

“Right so you’re telling me you’d rather be in surgery than a cataract operation?” Mark couldn’t believe you’d rather chose the most stressful option of the day, he was leering at you shaking his head.

An operation leaves you more free loaded work to do meanwhile surgery can go wrong many ways because it has more people involved.

You strain out. “Of course. Surgery is more important than an operation.”

“So you’d take one for the team no matter what the outcome is?”

You shrug. “I either come out as a hero or come out as a failure.” You smirk out. “But we both know I only take wins so, I will never come out as a failure.”

You’re too much of a perfectionist to come out as a failure surgeon in a surgery.

“You’re too confident for your own good.” He stated with a laughter and you smirk watching Mark. “Of course i am. What is there about me that’s not good?”

For a minute Mark was told to look at you trying to figure out a flaw but he could not. He trails down capturing every little figure detail on your face which made his heart skip a beat and he wore it on his sleeve when he answers you truthfully, staring at your lips beginning to list out your features like he was drunk on them.

“You have perfect kissable lips, beautiful eyes…” he stops himself halfway through, he wanted to compliment your hands, saying how easy they fit into his when that night he held you.

“I have kissable lips?” You blurt out.

Mark awkwardly pauses looking away. God he shouldn’t of said that.

“No- I mean- yes— wait god no. What am I saying.”

You move closer and he flinches at your sudden movement pulling the man closer your mouth closes the gap and he can feel your lips slowly kissing him enough to give Mark the confidence for his arms to slowly wrap them underneath your body lifting you falling. He falls back on the couch with you on top kissing him with so much powerful he had no idea you were feeling this way, he felt your emotions, every bit and one of them. The kiss spoke a million words that you wanted to say with your voice but couldn’t. Mark’s hands caress down your back roaming under your shirt feeling your warmth body than they slip down groping your ass.

You press harder into the kiss you share with the man underneath you when he grabbed it giving it a tight squeeze on your round and perfect shape ass. He could die from how perfect your body is, a hourglass that could leave him dead on the train tracks. He loves every inch of you it’s to die for.

His voice strains past the red lips achingly adding. “God you’re fucking perfect, Y/n.” You loved hearing him moan from just a single kiss.

You’d wonder what noises he’d made once he’s inside you, you were craving to know.

You were stressing on his lap freely trying to undress yourself as soon as possible however you were struggling with the buttons and Mark couldn’t help but smile watching your fingers slip away. He slowly moves on the shirt unbuttoning you sensually while eyeing you up and down.

You felt your face grow red when you saw how he was watching you so intensely you weren’t even aware. Mark captured a kiss on your lips. “You looked like you needed help.”

You smirk on the short lived kiss. He slid off your shirt revealing your shoulders and your cleavage between your bra on. He swore he loves every part of you, even your chest looks out of this world. Every little detail about you turns him on.

It was magical in a way what you do to him.

Mark lays you down putting one hand between your spine undoing your bra uncoupling it with just one hand and you felt it go loose as he stripped the rest of you spreading his mouth down your chest now. Kicking between your nipple folds and kissing your breasts so tenderly, fondling them. You were arching your back grinding your stomachs together as you were rolling out your soft moans.

The next thing you knew it his mouth was around your pelvis slipping out your panties to the side and pressing the thin tip of his tongue on your folds through the panties you couldn’t help but watch yourself fold down, apart, sideways — every position freaking possible you were in. Mark loved seeing you break down for only his mouth wait until he fucks you for real.

He made sure his mouth left you wet and warm, he also made sure you would come and give him a taste of yourself because he’s not going to fuck you until you do exactly that.

You moan into your hand when you felt his teeth gently brush on your sensitive clit and your body clutch onto the couch flatly as Mark pinned a hand on your stomach hitching inside with each ragged finger inside your hole or when overstimulating you with his tongue you took the largest breathe inside. Everytime you did so his hand on your stomach felt it and he loved seeing and feeling your body tense up from all the ways he’s eating you out, like he was practically starved for you, made for you to do this to you. You loved the fact that his nose rests flat on you sometimes because he loves to see you above as he eats you out underneath.

He loves seeing your head fling back or your eyes roll back. He loves seeing your hair become a brush out mess and your neck veins popping out from how much you’re withdrawing your moans or you’re stuttering out your noises like they were broken recording tapes you would listen back on to.

Mark felt your wet leaning pussy throb and his eyes lit up seeing you moan higher. He knew you were close now and you’re running away from it.

He however, was not letting you go run.

You moan loudly. “Fuck-fuck I’m going to come.”

Mark muffles against your leaking hole pushing his tongue further deep now enough to stretch between your folds in a circular motion you shake your thighs uncontrollably. “Don’t run away from it now honey.” Mark wanted to taste you finally.

Without you knowing what’s to come next Mark’s fingers roughly entering you hitting the g spot loosely stretching your walls out in places you’ve never known could be done before and then his tongue was stuck on your clit going on and on like a running wheel on a car. Non stop driving you to your maximum speeds and mileage you couldn’t handle so much at once, especially his fingers, they felt too good to be true. He knew how to work with them, it’s like he will never catch you slipping. He had, spidery senses where he could just make you come on his fingers with just one movement.

Snap…

It’s all he needed to see when he saw you spew on his fingers right there and then wetting them with your pussy juices. He brought them out momentarily licking them clean and you watch him before he retract them back inside you seeing you moan out loud when he did so.

“Fuck, Mark….” You blabber.

You’re already so out of it and Mark can’t help but think how you’ll look and sound when his cock is in the picture with you.

He dug inside your pussy with his fingers humming down loving to see your juices come in and out. “You’re so… sweet tasting.” He trails loving you on his taste buds more than he anticipated.

“Can’t wait to feel you come undone on my cock.” And that’s when you felt your world splitting into two as he said this getting out the erected cock in front of you. You let your mouth spit on his tip massaging it with your saliva and Mark groaning out as he positions his tip to your aligning entrance, you felt the anticipation kill you till you feel a large wound coming in and pulling you widely apart.

You’re underneath Mark gazing into his eyes as you held on the side to his arms for support. You began to clench your eyes tight to adjust to him fully, who the heck knew he was going to be this big?

You didn’t see it coming until now you’re feeling it coming.

You were mourning for your grave the minute your done with him you’ll going to be the first person to have troubles walking after getting fucked out by your saviour Spiderman. You weren’t expecting it for him to be good in bed now too — you arch your back slowly when Mark starts thrusting as he feels you taking the shape of his cock. Your body was following him so well he feel like you were the perfect match for a rhythm player.

Mark could feel everything about you as much as you feel everything about him. His cock pumping you up until you will be ready to come undone chasing your high, or should in this case be highs. Mark was making sure you come out of here with so much drain energy that you will get lost counting the times you came in the scene. You knew he was making you feel the ultimate pleasure he can produce and you, you were shocked he could go on so much.

He loves seeing your stomach take an image of his manhood deep working inside. He loved the sight more than he should’ve because next he’s ramming in you to see a rougher sight of his cock hitting your stomach.

You were there arching constantly wondering how did he find the most sensitive places for your body, even yourself you never knew this could make you become a moaning mess under him.

He loves see your face scrunch up whenever you moan his name. He loves to hear your voice and to feel your words reach his heart.

Next thing you know, you’re the one becoming a blabbering fool who’s going on about how good he feels and how amazing he’s fucking you out till you lost your mind. Mark wants to tell you he knows, because he can feel every inch of you clenching his cock wanting to milk him dry within you nonstop. You want this to become a limitless.

Limitless moment with him.

Mark groans clutching your pelvis down. “I’m going to…!”

He couldn’t finish his sentence faster than his body. You hold your breath as you felt him snap finally inside you feeling a pair of warm fluid inside your body and you achingly put a hand on his shoulder as he was breathing heavily against your neck.

You could sense his heartbeat and your own too, Mark loves the sound of yours matching his. It made this moment somehow more memorable and special.

You tiredly close your eyes sighing out.

“So, Spiderman how do you feel about a date?”

Mark couldn’t believe his ears until he lifts his fave away from your neck staring into your eyes.

He might be becoming a fool for you.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

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endless-ineffabilities · 11 months

Text

turning red

modern!Daemon Targaryen x f!reader

masterlist

themes/warnings: jealous!Daemon, reader has a crush on Daemon, language, semi-PDA

Jealousy rears its ugly head, when someone (stupidly) attempts to woo you in front of Daemon.

"So who was that?" Daemon asked suddenly.

He's been leaning closer and closer to you in the booth, trying to drown out all the noise. The club was in full swing, and this normally isn't your scene, but one of your friends managed to drag you out with her tonight.

"Who was what?" You raise your voice at him. Daemon feels your breathing on the side of his neck, and he enjoys it. He likes how close you are.

"That fucker who tried to ask you out."

"Oof," you lean back, "Bit hostile there, Daemon. He's a... friend of Abby's. Apparently she's trying to set us up."

"I didn't know you needed some help in that department." He threw his shot back. A fireball. He offered you one as well, but you grimaced at him, claiming it wasn't to your taste. At which point he playfully pinched your cheeks and called you, "little chicken."

You narrow your eyes at him, taking a sip of your own drink. "Well, I don't. I get plenty of action, I'll have you know."

He smirks, ready with a comeback. "Is that so, darling? As your neighbour, I have some rough idea of whether you bring back company to your apartment. And, well... I haven't really seen any."

"You don't know everything, Daemon Targaryen."

"No?" He suavely pushes his hair back with one hand, knowing it'll get your attention. As if your attention could be diverted anywhere else with Daemon sitting so close, in his perfectly-fitted black sweater, smelling deliciously of sage and cedarwood. "But I do know you. You don't warm up to people easily. Especially not to lousy guys like him."

You don't want to get fazed by the intense gaze he's giving you. You think you're so used to it, and gestures like that are Daemon's bread and butter. No wonder he has so many fawning over him.

But... well. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through you, or it's the fact that you've been crushing over your white-blonde neighbour ever since you moved in the building, but you feel warm all over.

And you feel the urge to just lean over and kiss him.

In true Daemon fashion, he notices.

"You look like you want to kiss me, darling."

"Huh?"

"Got you all tongue-tied," he smugly says. "Don't worry. I've been told I have that effect on just about everyone."

That got you out your daze. Silly girl with her silly crush.

You shake your head. "So humble, Daemon."

"Though it's only you that I wish to have that effect on."

You nearly spit out your drink, righting yourself just in time. "What did you just say?"

"I think you bloody heard me."

You sigh. Is this another one of his games? Does he see you as just another conquest? "Don't even try to pull anything on me."

To his credit, he genuinely looks taken aback. "What makes you think I will?"

"Well, I know you. I've seen how you use your charms, and how people fall for it. Every. Time." Your head spins. Could be the booze, could just be Daemon's presence. "But not with me. I won't let you - "

"Do you really think you're just like everyone else to me?" He smirks haughtily. "Do you not have eyes? I have tried, over and over, to just - "

"Hey there, beautiful. Glad to see you're right where I left you." Tobias, the aforementioned guy your friend is encouraging you to hook up with, slides in the booth across from you, an easy megawatt smile on his face.

Daemon Targaryen could have rolled his eyes all the way into oblivion. From the corner of your eye, you swear Daemon scooted even closer, his arm sliding on the back of your shared seat.

"Hey man, how are you?" Tobias greets, reaching a hand out to Daemon, "I'm Tobias."

"Daemon."

Their hands shake firmly, just once, but Tobias makes a show of wriggling his fingers as he pulls away.

"Damn. Firm grip you got there, man."

Daemon slyly smirks and raises a pale eyebrow in response.

"So," Tobias says, immediately uncomfortable after a few seconds of silence, "how do you two know each other?"

"Oh, he lives across the hall from me." You say nonchalantly. What else is there to add? That you've held a torch for Daemon since a week after you moved in, when he offered to help you carry a bookshelf into your apartment, and you ended up bickering over the better wallpaper to put up in your kitchen?

He wanted the one with the complex deep red pattern, whilst you favoured the more neutral navy blue and light gray.

After a long while, you found yourselves sitting on your living room rug, a couple of cold beers downed between the two of you.

"Is there one with red and light gray?" He blurted out, as he lay down on his side.

"Huh?" You were confused at first. Lying down on your stomach mindlessly swinging your feet behind you, you had thought that you hadn't felt that comfortable with anyone in a long while. Especially not in the first few hours of meeting them.

"The kitchen wallpaper." He pointed that way.

"Oh? There must be. How come your colour still gets chosen?" You respond playfully. "It's not like this is your apartment."

"It's a compromise isn't it, darling? Besides, I have a feeling I'll be spending plenty of time over here."

"Will you now?" You had said, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You hoped he would.

And he did. Since then, the two of you would constantly come over to each other's apartments.

Well, save for those days and nights when he had someone over. And those were quite often, much to your chagrin.

Back in the club, Daemon adds to Tobias. "We're very close. I practically live in her apartment."

"So," Tobias gestures at you and Daemon, "are you two...?"

"No!" You exclaim a bit too quickly.

"That's great! I mean, for me." Tobias beams and winks at you.

Daemon stares blankly at him, lips curling in thought. His fist clenches on the table, and he feels compelled to drive it straight through Tobias' shining veneers.

"How so?" Daemon asks, his tone turning condescending, as if speaking to a clueless child.

"Sorry, man?"

"How is that great for you? Do you actually think you've got a chance with her?"

"Look, I don't want any - "

Daemon's voice casually drips with poison. "Do you honestly think I would allow this to fucking happen?"

"Daemon!" you elbow him lightly in the ribs, but he doesn't budge one bit. Give this blonde prince one too many fireballs and he runs his mouth the first chance he gets.

Tobias raises his hands in mock surrender. His happy-go-lucky demeanor has faltered, and he shirks back from Daemon's glare. "As I was saying, I don't want any trouble. I just like her, and honestly, it's her choice whether she wants to hang with me or not."

Daemon continues to crowd you in your booth, his leg pressed against yours, his arm caging you in from behind.

You tell Tobias, "I'm sorry about him. He must be getting drunk." Then to Daemon, "Could you give it a rest, please? I don't understand - "

Then Daemon... oh, Daemon... smashes his wanting lips against yours.

His hands hold on to your face, keeping you in place. The both of you have pushed further in the booth, with you pressed against the velvet wall.

Your lips move, hungrily, seemingly on their accord. Or simply acting on what you have desired, what you have craved for the past year. What has only been in your imagination until now.

"Wait," you actually manage to pull away, silly girl, and notice that Tobias has vacated the booth. "Tobias..."

"Do you want him?" Daemon questions, one hand tracing your collarbone.

"No, but..."

"Do you want me, darling?"

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. "You know i do."

He smiles knowingly. "Tell me to stop," he presses a kiss against your neck, "and I will."

A laugh escapes you, free and unbridled. This must be the effect of having your heart known.

"I think," you say, "if I tell you to stop, I'll regret it for the rest of my goddamn life."

He says nothing, merely tilts his chin to you, beckoning you closer.

But before your lips meet once more, a figure turns up at your booth, clad in a shimmering sequin dress.

Your friend Abby slams her hands on the table, startling you. Daemon merely throws her a look over his shoulder, irate at the disturbance.

"Heeey, girly." She winks at you. "Hey, Daemon. Am I interrupting something?" She sinks down in the opposite booth, and daintily leans forward on her elbows, cupping her face in her hands.

"Yes." - "No."

"No, it's alright." You repeat, giving Daemon a quick side eye. "What's up?"

"I was about to ask, but I can see now why Tobias hightailed it out of this booth with his tail between his legs."

Daemon snorts at that. "Weasel," he mumbles under his breath.

"He's nice enough," you tell Abby, "but not for me."

"Oh, I totally get it." She wags her eyebrows at you and gestures to Daemon, when she thinks he isn't looking. But he notices, and the exchange causes him to smirk.

She stands, "Trust me. I predicted this ages ago. It's about damn time."

Your face heats up, but Daemon just responds with, "I absolutely fucking agree."

"See you, lovebirds." She sings, finally sauntering away.

"I thought she'd never leave." Daemon dramatically sighs, turning back to you.

"Be nice." You scold playfully, smiling. He merely gazes at you, his girl, before casting his gaze downward.

"Now," his hand snakes up your knees, crawling torturously under your skirt, then pauses. "Where were we?"

"Fuck it. Let's get out of here."

would y'all believe me when I say that part 3.1 to fire like yours is almost finished at 5k or so words, but I'm still not too satisfied with it? (what a drag) well oh well, I'll post it anyway tomorrow.

Hope this Daemon short makes up for it (even just a little tiny bit) 🖤

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen oneshot #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #modern!daemon targaryen

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kazudesuu · 5 months

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sukuna x gn! reader

cw : angst with comfort

i am currently so obsessed with jjk you have no idea.

— reunited again

: sukuna could not love, he thought he couldn’t but you proved him wrong.

sukuna didn’t believe he was capable of love. he was the king of curses, a being made and fuelled by hatred.

he was always seen with a scowl, a smirk perhaps on a good day, or when he’s fighting a particular interesting opponent. other than that, days were mundane for him.

of course, that all changed when you entered his life. a young one with a cursed technique that allowed you to fight on par with him.

you were interesting and sukuna was interested in you.

during the times the you and sukuna weren’t fighting each other, you fought others instead. the heian era dominated by both of you. if anyone back then were to hear either of your names, they were either angry or scared.

some days, you would drag sukuna out to a village, wanting to explore the place. people bowed their heads as you passed, sukuna always ahead of you.

“hey sukuna, try this dango!” you waved the treat in front of him, grinning brightly. the king of curses gave you a bored look before he eventually snatched it out of your hands. you watched in anticipation as he ate one of the balls, wanting to get his opinion on it. if he hated you, you would just kill the store owner.

after a moment of thought, sukuna passed the stick back to you.

“it tastes disgusting,” he spits. you pouted and disintegrated the rest of it. you turned away from the store, too disappointed to kill the owner.

“man, you don’t like anything do you?” you mumbled, kicking a stone away like a child. sukuna almost grins at the sight.

your statement wasn’t true. he liked fighting, he liked the fear in people’s eyes when they saw him, he liked humbling the jujutsu sorcerers who wanted to kill him. he eyes flicked to your figure, walking just a step behind him as you mumbled something incoherent.

he liked you too.

the fact was confirmed when he found himself running to catch your body as you fell with a sword through your abdomen. he watched as blood poured from your mouth.

time felt disoriented as sukuna saw the life in your eyes begin to fade away. he couldn’t do anything to stop it, couldn’t do anything as your body went slowly went limp, couldn’t do anything when you told him three words that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

you died without sukuna telling you how much you meant for him. you died with his heart in your hands. you died unknowing that you taught sukuna how to love.

sukuna finally believed he was capable of love, and at the same time, he’d also become capable of tears.

when sukuna awakened in itadori yuuji’s body, he was met with a familiar sight.

you were as beautiful as the day he lost you, if not even more so.

you stood in front of a younger black-haired male, glaring at him with those eyes he loved so much. “megumi, retreat first.” the male obeyed, running in the opposite direction.

you were afraid that sukuna would follow him and you were ready to put your life on the line to protect the first year at all costs. in your clenched fists, cursed energy was pulsing, ready to activate and take sukuna on if needed.

sukuna and you stared at each other, neither of your moving. your heart was pounding against your rib cage. fear or adrenaline, you didn’t know. what you do know was that you needed to stay alive until gojo arrived.

the king of curses took a step towards you, you took three steps back.

“you do not remember me,” sukuna said, his voice much softer than you expected.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “you’re ryomen sukuna, king of curses,” you state.

sukuna shakes his head. “so this is how the gods wanted it to be.” he couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh. his voice reverberated through the air and you felt uncomfortable. sukuna took another step towards you, then another and another.

you backed away slowly, cautiously. one wrong move and you’d be dead.

“very well then, i’ll help you to recall.” in a blink of an eye, sukuna was in front of you, pressing his middle and ring finger to your temple. then, you saw it.

memories of you in your past life with sukuna played before your eyes. it was like watching a movie, except you were the main character in each and every scene. everything rushed back you and when you came back to your senses, you realised you were in sukuna’s arm.

the king of curses would have never allowed anyone to touch him. they would be killed in an instant. but as you laid in his warmth, you realised you weren’t just anyone.

“missed me?” sukuna smirked.

you blinked back tears you didn’t even know you were holding in. sukuna’s hand wrapped around yours while you processed what you’ve just witnessed.

after so many years, the two of you were finally reunited, albeit under different circumstances. but nonetheless reunited.

and this time sukuna thought to himself i won’t let you go so easily again.

#© mine #❧ jujutsu kaisen #x gn!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst

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cowyolks · 1 year

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TAVISH’S FIC RECS

A collection of works that read like literature that I recommend to readers.

SERIES

He Who Comes from under the Water @itsagrimm

A stunningly diverse read that is simply unique and undeniably breathtaking. The series dives into Eastern European and Slavic culture and folklore, illustrating König to be a Vodyanoy. Along with the easy to read material, Grimm adds interesting research and citations at the end of every chapter. (König x AFAB! Reader)

Bleeding Blue @nsharks

A beautiful realistic series that takes place in a “zombie” apocalypse. The reader is found by Ghost and his daughter, Blue. Blue is such a well written original character, sometimes I catch myself reading other fics and I’m like “where’s Blue?” All the relationships and scenarios are so well thought out. Twix, as the reader is nicknamed, finds herself bonding with the two of them. This is such an excellent slow burn and a must read. (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

Hold your Face Away from the Light @fr0ntier

My god how can this get steamier? Fr0ntier is such a talented gremlin. This two part series is a Cowboy/Western Au that illustrates Ghost as the embodiment of revenge. It’s so unique it’s hard to describe, but be prepared to cry, from tears to between your legs. (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

The Little Things @halfmoth-halfman

This series is so unique because it is written in Soap’s point of view. I love this series so much because it’s little signs of affection that just make me swoon. I love how Mothie portrayed Ghost and how he subtly loves on the Reader. Excellent! (Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB! Reader)

ONE-SHOTS

Laughing Poets @halcyone-of-the-sea

God, anything that @halcyone-of-the-sea writes is pure gold. So make sure you check out their masterlist! But this fic captivated me because it’s so well written. Even the battle scenes make it feel like you’re there. The reader goes through so much pain and torture and you can really feel Keegan’s silent pain and anguish to save the reader. It’s absolutely amazing and full of little tweaks that make you squeal in fluffiness. (Keegan Russ x AFAB! Reader)

Everything that Lives is Gone to Waste @day0walker

Is there ever a bad time to talk to Elliot about stinky men? GOD, this fic is so hot it’ll make you evaporate, you can’t just put König in a ghillie suit and expect me not to simp. The way he’s described in this fic is just so fuckin’ hot. A superb read that gets you hot and bothered. (König x AFAB!Reader)

Foolish Antics and Antique Evenings @fr0ntier

Ring, Ring, Ring! This is by far the most beautiful written Soap fic in this entire app (in my humble opinion). It’s so lightheartedly steamy. The Spit Wizard once again nailed Soap’s personality to a T. He’s hilariously hot in this fic, stupidly so. I recommend to anyone in need of a hot pick-me-up. (John “Soap” MacTavish x AFAB! Reader)

Her Whole Entire John Price Masterlist @yeyinde

I knew I had to include Lev’s fics in my recommendations, but it was too hard to choose only one fic. She’s essentially the queen of all things Captain John Price. All of her works are steamy and read like poetry. I recommend Past and Pending and Underdressed. (Captain John Price x AFAB! Reader)

Woe to the Deer who is Courted by the Wolf @toshidou

One of the hottest things I ever read. I’m extremely inclined to reading vampire AUs. The fact that it is so predator/prey like is so gorgeous. I love the way König is written in this, details are superior and have you holding your breath the whole time. (Vampire! König x AFAB! Reader)

Truth or Dare @soapyghost

Talking about steamy hold-your-breath smut? This is it folks. An excellent one-shot that describes the readers horrible sex life, until Price comes along and fixes that. It’s refreshing to read him as such a mature partner, and as always gets me hot and bothered. (John Price x AFAB! Reader)

ART

No one ever recommends art blogs so I want to be one of the first.

@egg-ball stunning! Everything that they create is steamy and makes me go “wow!”

@timhex Gorgeous Art!

@appleciderp Always go to Apple’s blog for a good laugh at their many GhostSoap panels.

@bluegiragi all of their art is amazingly hot. I like how they illustrate König. And their recent works of all the boys as monsters…. Whew!

More to be added!

#tavish fic recs #call of duty modern warfare #cod #simon ghost riley #könig #soap mactavish #captain price #modern warfare #keegan p russ

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 • 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮

“You make me wanna come through, a quarter after two..just to put it down on you.”

synopsis: a racy photo, risky texts and some red wine lead to one hell of a night when (y/n) receives an unexpected visit from your favorite suitor and he’s ready to show you a good time.

content warning and themes: black !fem reader (plus size and thick descriptors), praise kink, both switch choso and reader (choso with more of a sub lean), spit play, hair pulling, alcohol use, nipple play, handjob, edging, choso’s moans are so pretty :(, reverse cowgirl, pet names (mommy’s used, sweetheart, angel, babyboy, sweet girl) body worship, dry humping

📝: I’ve been excited to start this one for a while because Choso is a character I’ve been wanting to explore more of. Thank you so much to @rav3nmuse for commissioning this piece and supporting me. I hope that you enjoy and that I did him justice!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖ ══✿══

a serene and peaceful Saturday night was currently underway with no intention for it to remain so. The clock had just struck a little past midnight as the warm air and slightly cool winds whipped around outside of your cozy abode. A home you shared with no one other than the one feline companion that strutted around at its leisure; quiet and calm on most days but as you’d hope tonight, would be a lot more lively. (Y/N) (L/N), a beautiful and bodacious woman with a personality to match. One that attracted many pursuers in your life. Hence why you were currently stationed in front of a mirror in your bedroom, parading around proudly in a new ensemble that you had acquired during a much needed online shopping spree; spoiling yourself after a rather long week. Candy apple red lace wrapping around your delicate dark skin..cupping those big breasts and thick thighs, barely even covering the curvature of that plump ass. Which was all but fine to you, considering the entire goal was to entice and tempt one of your many options to come over and rip it off! Blonde finger waves residing atop your head and a freshly done set of acrylic nails lying across it as you’d glance back to the mirror and snap a couple shots. How could they possibly resist you looking damn near delectable? Hell, it was a crime that you weren't bent over in this glass and forced to look at yourself as one of them told you to take it..

the truth was, you were a rather promiscuous woman. Whereas most girls of your size and physique had been conditioned to be modest..bashful of your appearance, you embraced it proudly. Strutting about in pieces that showed off those curves and kept all eyes pointed in your direction. You were a firm believer in the fact that being humble got you nowhere..you were gorgeous and everyone was going to know it! Besides, not one roll, stretch mark or ounce of cellulite had ever stopped some of the sexiest men in this city from diving head first between your thighs; resting their foreheads on your pudgy tummy as they ate you out. They loved all of you and you loved all of them. At any time, they’d come running at your beck and call, and trust, you had a roster full! You were texting with a couple of them at that very moment, chuckling and laughing to yourself as you read their wild messages. Mainly in reaction to the photos and videos you were sending their way. Saying how sexy you looked and how desperately they craved to be burying their dicks inside of you..rather brash but exactly the energy you needed. A man that knew exactly what to do with it if you gave it to him. One of which was Satoru Gojo, a man as notorious for his good looks as for his impeccable pipe. He loved entertaining the ladies and was by far the biggest slut in your makeshift harem. A man with no morals and the one who’d be down to try anything. Unfortunately for you, he was out of town and too far away to come give you what you needed. On the contrary, there was his best friend, Suguru Geto..this one right here was a problem! He liked it rough and when he got ahold of it, you’d be stuck for days. Whether mentally or physically, because he’d have you walking with a limp. Choking you out until you tapped his arm and gasped for air..you could only handle him in small increments because you’d be ready to move him in!

then there was Kento Nanami. Far on the tamer side of things but still one hell of a lover! A man who would court you first, only to have you coming on his face shortly thereafter. He constantly made you feel like an absolute princess. Spoiling you with gifts, paying close attention to your needs and body. He was such a sweetheart but he also wasn’t the type to hook up at will. It was something he needed to be in the mood for and tonight, he expressed that he was far too tired to come out and see you but that he thought that you looked absolutely stunning. Which was of little consolation to your feelings of arousal at the moment. However, there was one who had eluded your mind and you couldn’t help but to kick yourself for doing so. The alternate option that you kept on tuck just for nights like this. It wasn’t for a lack of skill or the fact that he was unattractive, but he came into your life only a few months ago but boy, had he worked his way high up on your roster. Especially as of late with all of his sweet gestures and offerings that he’d often leave at your workplace or waiting on your doorstep when you came home. Tonight was no exception as before you could even hit his line to see if you could bait him over, Choso was already en route and bearing a bottle of wine; Pinot Noir to be exact, which was your favorite. One salacious snapshot was all it took to sell it and he was on his way. “Give me ten and have that on when I get there. I need to see that in person..” It was then that you began to grow far more excited for what was in store. It was whilst he was at the convenience store just down the road from your block, did he shoot you a quick facetime call and you received quite the pleasant preview of what you could expect. His short black shag styled into his normal two pigtails; stray pieces forming a bit of a bang on his forehead, a thin silver necklace with kanji lettering of his name, diamond studs in his ears and rings on his pinky and middle fingers. As well as a silver wristwatch. For his attire? A black t-shirt and Adidas sweats, with matching slides on his feet. His very recognizable birthmark forming a single line across his nose and that adorable pout that always melted you in so many ways. “Hey gorgeous..I’m on the way.” that drowsy, deep tone of his sendings pangs of warmth throughout your stomach and lower regions as well. “I can’t wait to see you..just come right in. The door’s unlocked. You know where to find me.” Signaling that you’d be awaiting his arrival exactly as he liked it; sprawled across the mattress, posing all sexy and ready for him to pounce. That was enough for him to end the call and continue his short commute. Not even a full ten minutes went by before you could hear the roar of his car engine outside of your bedroom window as the soft hum of sensual music played through the speakers of your television. A wine glass cusped between your fingertips gauntlet style as you lie positioned on your hip across the bed. Nothing more than a sheer robe covering that lacy material that was just dying to be torn off. You could feel yourself burning with sheer excitement and arousal. You just knew that tonight was going to be one for the books!

Some minutes passed before you heard the front door creak open, the sounds of scraping feet and him call out to you..

“(Y/Nnnn!)”

“I’m up here, Cho!”

Immediately following that sweet voice up the stairway and to the second room on the right side of the hall. The master bedroom, that had been dimly lit and illuminated in crimson colored glow. Upon entering, Choso found himself met with quite the sight. That sexy little two piece enveloped around your body and posed in such a suggestive way.

“..hey, pretty girl..damn..”

finding himself at a complete loss for words as he fully entered the room, set the bag on the nightstand and closed the door behind you both. His dark eyes fixated amid the red glow on his precious (y/n). “Hey, babyboy.” How he had longed all week to be back by your side; holding, touching and squeezing you. Never wanting to leave or let the intimate moments you shared end anytime soon. His reaction had clearly brought a smile to your face as those luscious, cherry painted lips curved to your dimpled cheeks. That curled finger circulating the rim of that wine glass as you took yet another sip. Resembling that of a real life goddess; an ethereal being right there in the flesh for his viewing pleasure. But glances weren’t all you wanted from him. More than anything, you craved his touch and to be teased. And if you were being completely honest..fucked into total submission! But Choso was a bit different from the other men you messed around with..he was more of the type to follow instructions rather than to give them. A far bigger giver than taker..so you’d wave him over with a single finger as you leaned up in the bed and sat against the edge of it, allowing him to kneel down before you. “Mmm..I missed you. Hadn’t seen you in a few days, I thought you’d disappeared.” Joking whilst gently rubbing the side of his face. Even tucking a few of those stray strands behind the ear. He had such an adorable pout and cute features, that you could admire that mug for days. Even more so when it was shoved between your thighs. “And leave you? Not a chance. Was just taking care of a few things, ‘s all. Nothing for you to worry that pretty little head of yours about.” That was the thing with Choso. He was the type to always put himself on the backburner and never share his troubles with anyone. He could be going through so much and never disclose a word. As far as he was concerned, when he stepped foot through your door, he could leave it all behind and find his solace. Which lied directly in your beautiful body. “Instead..” glancing up at you with a faint grin, he’d trail his fingers in random parts of your frame; rubbing on your back, legs, thighs, ass and stomach..seemingly caressing you all over and trying to get his fill. “I’d rather just focus on you..and do all those things we talked about.” There were countless flirtatious and downright sexual texts exchanged between you and Cho on a daily basis. Oftentimes, when you were both working; him in a research lab and you at your office job, you’d send one another suggestive videos, masturbating for the other..as well as sexy messages to follow. “Stroking myself for you. Wanna come..oh fuck.” Saying what he couldn’t verbally because he had to be silent so as not to get caught.

and you fingering yourself for him from behind your desk, moaning and whimpering his name. “Cho…look how wet you get me. Thinking about riding that dick so bad, baby.” All of it had aided in your overflowing desire for one another and now, it could be put into motion without any interruptions. Planted on his knees, Choso say obediently and eagerly as your fingertips grazed his cheek. Warmth began to overtake his entire being and fill him..reaching up to caress you once more. “Can I have you, baby? Please..I don’t wanna keep waiting..” his pleas became downright desperate whilst he grasped you all over. It was quite adorable how needy he became for you. How much he yearned to touch you, to pleasure you..and to make his sweet (y/n) smile brighter than anyone else had. See, the others may have been more experienced but he was far more hungry for it. Willing to do any and everything it took to please you and keep you satisfied. He was your clay; to mold and shape to your liking. (Y/N) broke into yet another cheeky grin, running your fingers along the underside of your chin to kiss him once more. Trust, the anticipation was killing you just the same but you decided to make him work for it for a little bit. Let him get his fill of feeling up your frame as the two of you made out. “Come here..” whispering gently, you brought your lips and faces together as one; pulling Choso to his feet and inevitably onto the bed. Lying atop your full figure..hands roaming all over as if he had no idea where to start. Too excited to focus but too aroused to just sit idly. So whilst your lips locked in a fury..slowly sucking on one another’s tongues whilst giving each other soft pecks, Choso’s palms made home on the lace material cupping your chest. His hips slowly rutted between your open thighs; almost as if he were edging himself along. Mumbling against your mouth before moving them to the tender skin on your neck. Meanwhile, his fingers were making home on those ample breasts. Once he freed them from their confines, Choso was a man unhinged..fixated on those beautiful mounds. There were no complaints on your end and rather, you’d merely watch while he worked his way down to your nipples.

“God..you're so pretty. Pretty fucking tits..pretty face..” his words trailing off before greedily sucking on those pretty brown buds. His tongue lapping and saliva trailing all over them. It was always his favorite when it came to foreplay..getting lost in the sensation of licking them and the feeling of your fingers wafting through his hair. Glaring with watchful eyes, (y/n) chewed profusely at your lower lip. It had been a pretty hectic week so being showered in adoration like this was just what you needed. “Mmm…my baby..you’re so beautiful…” that sweet voice trailing off into a deep whimper. Almost groaning as if he were completely and hopelessly hooked on you, even without a taste. Pulling back, retracting from your now sensitive nipples and feeling a trail of saliva along with it, his deep set eyes locked onto yours for a moment. “God, I need you so bad..please let me have you..” practically pleading to have the rest of you. But one stark difference between him and the others was that they never left you much room to be in control. You could see the sheer desperation in his face..to not only fuck you but fulfill every desire plaguing your brain. To enact every nasty thought running through both of your minds. Crawling onto the bed, Choso would begin working at that sensitive flesh of your neck once more and grinding against your open thighs; that erection swelling from the confines of his sweatpants. So desperate and needy to be the sole object of your desire. “…just wanna make you feel good. Wanna do anything to make you feel good..” He knew you were a tough woman to tame but he’d do just about anything to feel the warmth of that pussy again..tightening around him and milking his cock for all he had. But for now…you had a much better idea.

“You mean that, babyboy? You’ll do anything for me, whatever I want, right?” Tipping his head downward with your fingers cupping his chin and your thumb sliding into his mouth, you’d let him suck on it..cooing to your adorable little toy, to which he’d nod in response. He was so sweet and obedient. So much so that when you shoved him off of you with a gentle push and told him to strip down, he made haste in doing so. You needed to see all of him..from those ripped abs, chiseled muscles and of course..throbbing cock. Watching him rid himself of those clothes slowly was quite the sight and you were certainly getting an eyeful. You couldn’t help but to let those fingertips dance between your sheathed folds and gently massage that bud. Especially when he rendered himself entirely nude and that pre-cum spurted from the tip; fully erect and standing at attention. Almost as if he could barely contain himself. “P-please..(y/n). Please let me take you right here, angel. You just look so fucking good right now…I can’t handle it..” akin to a puppy in heat, Choso practically frothed at the mouth, for his chance to be one with you. Unfortunately for him, seeing him squirm and hearing those sweet little cries were far more entertaining! “You poor thing, you’re so hard..you look like you’re about to burst..” which wasn’t wrong in the slightest..considering that he could hear the sound of your wetness being thrashed around by your fingertips. It was his weakness among many other things. So you had the perfect solution.. “..don’t worry, baby..I’ll handle it..” now, normally, it wasn’t something he’d be content with. He was a very firm believer in letting his lady get her nut first. Always a selfless lover but this was something that would satisfy you both. Waving him over with that finger, you’d order him to sit between your thighs..legs sprawled out as you maneuvered to the headboard and spread your own. You were going to do something that he never had and that was to pleasure him. Make him see stars, moan and beg as he had for you many times prior. Seated comfortably in the middle of your plump thighs, Choso soon found himself encompassed by your legs coiling his waist. Your plan? To jerk him off and stroke those nipples. It was apparent just how sensitive he was when you ever so gently grazed his chest and he jumped. “B-but I—“..but nothing. You’re always taking such good care of me..just relax.” Softening him with a gentle peck to his cheek and his temple. Feeling the soft touch of your lips against his skin caused an already trembling Choso to shudder once more. Your hands made home on his chest, gently circulating and caressing his upper body. With your frame fully folded around him, he could go nowhere..completely within your clutch and forced to let you take all of his stress away. “You’re so good to me, Cho..I just wanna return the favor…” cooing in a sweet, whiny tone as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, leaving kitten licks and kisses. Meanwhile, you’d pinch his very erect nipples between your fingertips, softly squeezing them before tracing tiny circles around them. “Can I do that? Pleaseee?” Truthfully, you didn’t have to ask him for a damn thing. Whatever you wanted, it was yours! Huffing in sharp breaths, Choso attempted to answer you but could barely even get his words out. You had him completely stuck; stimulating many of his pressure points at once. Instead, you’d watch as Cho’s dick twitched and fluttered on its lonesome without so much as a single touch. “Ah!—ha..yes, please..” begging whilst he sucked his teeth and bit down on his lip. He’d do just about anything right now to keep this sensation going. And you’d do anything to keep those pitiful moans flowing from his mouth. Especially when his cock head kept ejaculating prematurely. It was apparent that those nipples were his weak spot. You’d continue pinching them whilst nibbling at his ear. Eventually, your palms passed his chest and resided on his abs..getting lower and lower until…

“Please what? Tell me, babyboy..talk to me. Tell me what you want.” Enticing him more as the seconds and minutes passed. Lowering those fingertips to his tip, teasing it ever so gently with your thumb pad to evoke the response you were searching for. His desperation grew larger and soon, he could no longer maintain that control. Caving and craving to be handled. Releasing heavy huffs, Choso released a whiny cry before answering..

“P—please..mommy. Make me come.”

all the words and permission you needed to enact on his request and your perverse desires. The name evoking a smile across your face as well. He was so sensitive, you felt as if he may combust if you touched him too hard. So you’d settle for gentle strokes..wrapping the remainder of your fingers around it and sliding them up and down his shaft. Going slowly and taking all the time you needed to please him. Choso was such a vocal man. Not afraid nor shy about how good you made him feel. Even at the expense of sounding completely submissive. For you though, he was. He’d allow you to do whatever you wanted..as far as he was concerned, you held complete dominion over his mind and body. He was yours to mold, to shape and honestly, bitch up. His balls swollen to the brim, just waiting to be milked. But you’d continue those gentle pumps, even prompting him to spit in your hand for further lube. Meanwhile, (y/n) was still rubbing those hard nipples and flicking your tongue around his jugular. “Mmm..look at you. Doing so good..feels nice being on the receiving end, doesn’t it?” “Y-yesss. So fucking good.” Needless to say, he was in heaven right now! Floating on an endless cloud of bliss with a wide smile on his face. Kissing his temple and giggling, you’d keep going. Eliciting those long, drawn out moans and muffled cries. Looking down to his toes curling up in the sheets as you so casually let him fuck your enclosed fist. Sporadically bucking those hips up each time you brought your hand down on it. Those eight and a half inches growing thicker. This teasing was going to truly be the death of him. “Oh God…m’ gonna come. Please baby.. ‘need to nut.” Resorting to groveling for his climax at this point. But he’d do anything to have that gooey cum dripping down your knuckles. He couldn’t even feint it this time..you owned him right now! Just to establish more dominion, you’d take those fingers that were once stroking his nipples and shove them between his lips, coaxing out a trail of saliva that helped lube him up even more; watching him drool with that fucked out expression on his face was getting you so turned on. “Yesss, baby. Spit for me..spit on that dick. You’re doing so good..” singing his praises whilst pumping him dry. He was unraveling so much, it’d become harder to restrain him. “G-ahhh! (Y/N)…pleaseeee. Let me—“ before the words could leave his lips, that semen spurting out, even without your permission..whether you allowed it or not. Crying out as he came and you’d have to pepper his cheek with kisses to calm him down. “That’s it, sweetheart…let it out.” Cupping his chin into your palm and smashing your lips together with a haze of sloppy pecks. Tongue thrashing around in each other’s mouth and even exchanging more of that spit. Even though he was disheveled and shaking, the two of you couldn’t help but to laugh at the aftermath. “Fuck..” “..you okay?” Nodding and muttering in response.

honestly, he was feeling better than he had in days. Being milked by his fine ass girl and getting doted on all in one? Yeah, he couldn’t ask for more! But he’d be a little gluttonous and beg for you to take things up a notch. He wanted to keep feeling that euphoric sensation..to have you take him to another height before things concluded. To which you had the perfect plan. “Lay back, baby. I’m not done.” Ordering and commanding him around with so much cadence. Choso was the type that loved his women in charge so he didn’t mind allowing you to have control over him. Doing exactly as you instructed..falling against the fluffy pillows and mattress, crawling atop his frame shortly after. “Oh my gosh..please sit on this dick. Fuck..” gliding down and mounting his cock; easily accessible through the open crotch area of your panties. You’d grasp the base and guide him in but he was shocked to see that your back was turned to him and you were planning to ride him in reverse. “Mmm..you’re so fucking big. Stretching this fucking pussy..” moaning as you began to move and take the first couple of inches into your tightness. It had been a while since you’d felt him so he had to get you accustomed back to his shape. That swollen tip pressing through your fleshy insides and penetrating those walls. After a couple of bounces, you could feel Cho’s black painted fingernails digging into the thick of your hips. His eyes glued to your rippling backside; watching that ass move until you began to bog down and they’d roll to the back of his skull. Eventually, you’d find yourself establishing a rhythm and fucking him silly. Standing atop your tiptoes and going in slow circles. “F-fuck! You feel so good, (y/n)! Goddamnit..” causing him to shout as he kept that grip on your body. In this view, he couldn’t help but to become mesmerized and fall deeper in love with that body..showering you with praise in the process. “You’re so fucking pretty, (y/n). You take this dick so good..you’re the only one who can fuck me like this..don’t stop, please..” with those drawn out, sexy moans fueling you, you couldn’t help but to give him exactly what he wanted. “I know, baby. I know…look how you got me creaming on it. This pussy always gets so wet for you..” soon, that room filled with whiny cries, whimpers and yelling among smacking skin. After a while, he could no longer withstand sitting idle and you could only maintain your position for a little bit so those hands clutched your hips and cellulite a bit tighter before he decided to take the reins. “Hold still..fuck. Please..” thrusting up into you shortly thereafter; letting that cock slam your sensitive spot. Those sloppy, nasty thrusts driving him crazy. “Yes! Right there, right there..” “Choooo! I’m coming—“ It wasn’t long before he was prompting you to squirt. Which sent you rocketing up off of him. That sticky sweetness, showering his tattooed thighs. But the two of you weren’t quite finished..not until he burst his second and concurrent nut..this time, needing to fill you with it. Those legs began trembling but it wasn’t long before he folded them up into a reverse mating press and stuffed that hole full of his cum after a few more thrusts. And he didn’t do so without breaking himself. Throbbing inside of you as he drained those balls inside of your womb. It was a euphoric feeling that could never grow old!

“I—I! I came so fucking hard..damn..” laughing to himself at the aftermath of the mess you two created. Feeling spent and completely satisfied, you’d fall into one another’s arms along with a barrage of sweet kisses. A smile, for the first time in a while, had broken through on Choso’s face, which you figured would be a little more permanent now after that. He’d caress your shaking body and he’d do the same. “Do me a favor? Don’t ever stay away from me that long.” Bopping his nose with your index finger, which made him chuckle; grasping the back of your neck before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make that dumb mistake twice. Can’t have anyone else loving on my girl. Not when I do it the best.”

and every time, he’d prove why you’d always keep coming back for more.

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amostnobleyandere · 1 year

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Yandere! Scaramouche x GN! Reader

summary: reader lives in a small town and hates it, scara drops by, and then they get kidnapped.

A/N: tiny-whiny, teeny-weeny lil ficlet!

!!! do not read if you are not comfortable with yandere content !!!

warning(s): YANDERE, yandere content, kidnapping, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, forced affection, forced marriage, scara has a bad temper and is irritated af literally all the time, mention of blood and gore for two seconds

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people in your little village had always told you that your reckless behavior would lead to something dangerous. something that you wouldn’t be able to handle. the warnings had been thrown at you throughout the years, but never seemed to have any effect on your behavior.

in fact, they had warned you about him before you had even met. the second he came into town, actually. he was the fatui harbinger that walked across nations like he owned them, looked at people as if they were weeds at his feet, and spit burning words with an acid coated tongue. he was shrewd and had an explosive temper that matched his arrogant personality. he spilt blood without care, laying battlefields in rivers of crimson. he was not merciful, not kind, and you were certain there were no traits that could have possibly redeemed him as a man, much less a human, now that you knew he was made from clay and paint rather than flesh and blood.

it was just a way to have a little fun; that’s how it had started, and that’s how you had rationalized it. for once in your life, you were flirtatious, bold with reckless abandon, and charmingly lovely with a man, doing your best to grab his attention. the only appeal of trying to form a relationship with him came from the fact that he was a harbinger and had seen the world, something that you had always dreamed about; it mattered little to you that he was cross and sarcastic, as long as there was a possibility that he would let you see the world outside of the quaint huts and humble farmland that you grew up in

you did recognize that you were practically walking to your death; you really did. you weren’t so stupid to think that pestering a harbinger, someone so desensitized to human suffering, blood and gore alike, would leave you with no consequences.

but, you had lived in a small town in the secluded countryside, with homely people and an itch to see the unknown. your life felt repetitive, stuck, and it nearly drove you mad. so yes, when one of the harbingers of the Tsarita, a god among mortals, suddenly lodged himself into the boring domesticity of some random no-name town on secret business, you became a little overexcited. for once, something big was making waves in your life, with the violet haired man at the center of it all. the rush went to your head quickly, and you found yourself playing a game that had dire consequences if (when) you lost.

you were friendly at best, and coy at worst. you vied for his attention. you greeted him cheerfully when he obviously did not want to be greeted. you smiled when his temper went off and he snapped at you with that vile mouth, all cruel words and biting remarks.

worst of all, you talked with him. you spent time with him, walked and made conversation, not noticing how he almost relaxed around you. looking back on it, you think that was what had put the nail in your coffin.

there was no sign that he was attached to you, and you were content with your rocky companionship in the end.

one day even, he said he had never met someone so forward, but he spoke the words with a sneer that revealed his displeasure at your persistence.

you took that sneer as a sign that he wanted nothing to do with you, however persistent you may have been. that he would simply use you as a source of entertainment, and then leave, leave your little town, like you so desperately ached to.

and you told him this, too. you told him about your dreams, your hopes, one day with a sad smile and a bitter laugh. perhaps it had just been the fact that you were talking with someone who might sympathize with you, or at least, consider your words of traveling the world and treat them as if they could actually become reality.

on this day, his eyes did soften. he looked at you not with irritation or annoyance, but with a placid and neutral expression. he did not speak. his eyes only looked through you, meeting your gaze and not turning away. his silence quickly began to make you uncomfortable, and you changed to subject with a forced laugh, excusing yourself to go back home, as the sun went down behind the hills and the glow began to dim from your skin.

he left the next day. that was all you expected to see of him in the end. you returned back to your daily life easily. you were not happy, but remorsefully indifferent towards the fact that the last bit of something new you would probably ever see had left forever; you tried to be.

one day, however, when night had come over your village and all was silent, there was a knock at your door. you got up, not expecting to see the harbinger standing there with his arms crossed, that same placid expression on his face.

you watched his eyes narrow. he dismissed your reasoning with a wave of his hand. he dragged you outside.

that was the last you saw of your little town.

you travel now. You have to, with him being your husband. but, you never got to see the world. you could not take a step outside of the little bubble he had formed for you. the only joy that came of the never ending travel that was now your life happened when he allowed you to come and walk by his side to explore, letting you gawk and flitter around until he dragged you back with into your little bubble, his hand on your wrist.

you are draped in riches, silks chosen by his hand, and are given every luxury you could ever need.

most importantly, you are his spouse, first and foremost, and are expected to act as such. you entertain yourself at home while hes gone, and greet him when he comes back. it was an easy routine to follow. almost as easy as the one you had back in your old town, which now whenever you thought back to it brought tears to your eyes. at least your life had belonged to you solely, back then. now you are the spouse of a fatui harbinger.

you had stopped trying to get him to let you go, after your last attempt to protest him ripping you from your ordinary life only got you a dismissive wave of his hand and a disinterested glare. never mind that this isn’t what you had meant when you said you wanted to travel the world; he was making it happen. it was better than being stuck in that quaint village for the rest of your mortal life, right?

hadn’t he given you what you wanted? the only price was to stay here, with him, with everything you could ever need at your feet. the only price was your freedom.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #male yandere #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere scaramouche #yandere wanderer x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #cw: yandere #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #x reader #yander wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scara x reader #yandere scara

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solar-plant-princess · 3 months

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Everything I see and hear about the live action remake of Avatar is just a spit in the face. It’s so disrespectful to the characters. The writing is a mess and unfocused. And they routinely attempt to sanitize and soften all the characters, deflating the value and purpose of their character arcs.

There is nothing they can do to salvage this. The actors deserve far better than to be stuck in this poorly written disaster.

This is the end state of all soulless cash grab remakes. Gut out all the worthwhile character development in order to make room for empty set pieces and gags in a desperate attempt to replace heart with a modicum of entertainment value. They aren’t interested in telling a new or even good story, they just want to cash in on brand recognition and will take out all the worthwhile stuff and add unnecessary fluff the whole way.

Don’t give them anymore money, don’t watch the show, don’t watch the future seasons. Don’t waste your time on a show that will only ever respond to you wanting genuinely good content with a spit to the face.

Also the meta level sexism of removing ALL of Katara’s personality is just disgusting (same with literally every other named woman character, the genuine misogyny from the writers is on full display the entire time), it’s literally on par with the play episode where the actress is constantly whining about “hope” while doing nothing else, that’s legitimately where they are at.

Zuko fights back against his dad, and doesn’t even mention his honor ever, so what’s even the point of his redemption arc if he had that in him from the start?

Aang doesn’t run away from his responsibilities (or the Air Temple for that matter, he just gets caught in a storm by chance) or need to learn how to accept being the Avatar, or even feel guilt about what happened to the Air Nomads so what’s the point of his arc?

Sokka doesn’t need to unlearn his false bravado or learn how to be a real leader, literally being written out of the Jet episode where he was the starring protagonist, so what’s the point of his arc?

I’m willing to put actual money on Toph’s parents actually just letting her leave and in fact will not even condescend to her about her disability. What’s the fucking point of this show if none of the characters are allowed to have any flaws or growth or personality????

(I also simply can’t ever forgive them for the broad daylight murder and butchering of Suki. Taking a strong confident leader who humbled Sokka by force into accepting that women were just as worthy and capable as men and made him not just accept but embrace her culture. To a spoiled brat that spends her entire screen time being boy crazy, and teaches Sokka literally nothing other than some fighting moves while THANKING him for “bringing the world to me”, by which she means being a boy she can oogle at. This isn’t Suki, this isn’t Katara, the writers are beyond sexist pigs for this shit.

They wanted to improve Sokka’s reputation that wasn’t even threatened and in turn reduced every single named woman to flat-caricatures of incapable, quiet, obedient, boy obsessed little girls all of which rely entirely on the men in the show to do anything.

This is beyond the pale in overt but unacknowledged misogyny which is an insult to every member of the audience especially all the women in the audience. They make it very clear they actually just agree with not-that-covert sexism and patriarchy and it’s disgusting. Never watch this show, dear god never show this to kids who might pick up on this dogshit misogyny)

#avatar the last airbender #they did everyone so dirty it’s not even funny #if the only way to enjoy them conpletely butchering characters is to turn off your fan brain it’s just not a good show

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ebongawk · 4 months

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pls show us how eddie would ask chrissy to marry him ❤️❤️❤️

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

The ring had, in fact, been burning a hole in his pocket for, like three goddamn months now. Because he'd been kinda-sorta-basically flying by the seat of his pants this entire relationship, up to and including his potential proposal, and three years of accidentally tripping and stumbling into all of the right messes with Chrissy made him think he could just buy the goddamn thing and wait for the most opportune moment.

The ring itself was an unanticipated surprise. Eddie had been shopping for a new-to-him amp, and buying those off the belt was a mistake he'd never make again. Rewiring older models with newer technology was basically Henderson's forte, though, so every time he and Chrissy popped back into Hawkins to visit Wayne during their long stints on the road, Eddie had a couple projects that Dustin's eager little mitts made grabby hands at.

(If Eddie found another tech kid on the road, he was pretty sure Dustin would spit and hiss and claw the newbie's eyes out so he would never be able to touch Eddie's projects again. He fucking loved that little shit. Had no clue what he was gonna do when the kid went off to MIT in a few months.)

So, yeah. While Eddie had walked into that pawn shop with a singlemindedness, he'd still perused the aisles like a perfectly respectable patron.

And the ring had been right there. Grinning up at him from the display case a winking in the overhead lights when it caught his eye.

Chrissy was literally right up the street, struggling over which books she wanted to trade in at the used bookshop so she could read some new material. That was the worst part about being on the road – they never got to keep anything. Like, sure, yeah, they had some shit stored at Wayne's, but they couldn't pop into Indiana whenever Chrissy needed to drop off her books so they could fit new shit in the van.

If they could, Chrissy would have a veritable library by now. He'd told himself a year ago that, as soon as they hit a label, Corroded Coffin's first purchase would be Chrissy Cunningham's dream house so she could have shelves of books. The guys were all in begrudging agreement.

"Hey, uh," he'd said, grabbing the attention of the shopkeeper and pointing at the ring. "What's that?"

About six months ago, he and Chrissy had been walking a mall in search of a birthday present for Wayne when a jewelry store grabbed her attention. Eddie had kinda expected her to beeline for the engagement rings – and maybe that was his own underlying fantasy, honestly – but she hadn't. She'd gravitated toward birthstones, pointing out his and hers and Jeff's and Gareth's and Grant's and Wayne's, gushing about which looked best together in her opinion.

"That's a, uh, ring," the cashier said, looking down at the thing. "With, y'know, stones and shit."

"Very fuckin' descriptive, man, thanks," Eddie responded. "How much?"

"For you, kid? Twenty bucks."

"I'll give you fifteen for it and thirty for the amp."

"Deal."

He didn't even get a box. The guy had been 'fresh out', allegedly, so he'd given Eddie a little drawstring bag for it.

Which was fine. Easier to hide. He just had to remember to transfer it around his three pairs of jeans while they were doing laundry.

"Look, that's your birthstone," Chrissy had said that day at the mall. "A garnet. And mine's right there! Aquamarine!" She'd sighed. "If I had been born a day earlier, I would have been an amethyst. But our stones look pretty together, don't they?"

They did, in his humble opinion. And wouldn't you fucking know it, Eddie had found a garnet ring inlaid with two aquamarines on either side at a thrift store in fucking Norton, Kansas when they'd stopped at a motel for a couple days to rest before a show in Kansas City. He'd even had it assessed at a jeweler in Saint Paul a week later just to be sure.

The thing was legit. The jeweler had polished it and everything. From there, it was just actually proposing.

But, as the weeks wore on, Eddie had to wonder if his decision to wait for the right moment might've been a fucking mistake. What was the perfect moment? What if it'd already come and gone and he didn't even know it? What if it never happened and Chrissy got upset and left him before he had a chance? Did she even want to get married? They were still young, and, outside of her shitty high school relationship (that predated her amazing high school relationship with him, thanks so much), Chrissy had never really dated around. What if he popped the question and she laughed in his face?

(She wouldn't. He knew she wouldn't. But, shit, what if, y'know?)

So, yeah. That fucking ring had been sitting in his pocket for, like, ninety-seven days, whispering platitudes and anxieties in equal measure. Building him up and tearing him down at every opportunity, like it found joy in watching him rise higher and fall farther.

Or maybe that was his own stupid brain.

They'd been booked on a mini-tour to open for another band that was just a few steps beyond Corroded Coffin. The money was kinda shit, but last night, at their show in Reno, a few people had been wearing the merch they'd sold weeks prior at a show in Vegas, and that had made Eddie feel like a goddamn superstar. He'd played his fucking heart out, and Chrissy said they sold out at the merch booth before the headliner even took the stage.

He'd even been asked for autographs. What the fuck?

Afterward, he and Chrissy were squeezed together into their motel room's bathtub. It was entirely too small for the both of them, but Chrissy sat between his bent knees, letting the hot water and scented bubbles relax them after what felt like a ridiculously long night. As though he could ever really relax with Chrissy's naked body all wet and pressed against his.

Her head was on his chest, listening to the slow thudding of his heart as the radio played almost imperceptibly in the background. Chrissy had gone so far as to light a few candles, and on the floor next to them was an open bottle of wine they were taking turns sipping.

It had to be somewhere around two in the morning, and Chrissy was probably exhausted. But she knew Eddie was always off-the-walls after a show, so corralling him into a shared bath was to help him wind down.

"You did amazing tonight," she said, her fingertips tapping against his shin where her hand rested. "All of you guys, but you especially. You were electric up there."

"Did you even look at the other guys?"

"Of course! It's hard not to, but I always look at you the most. Promise."

"Pretty sure you're legally required to say that, as I'm the one who makes you co––"

"Eddie."

Laughing, Eddie pressed his lips to her crown. "Thank you, sweetness."

"I'm serious. Like, I think that was the show, you know?"

He knew what she meant. Their discovery show. The one where some talent scout was hiding out in the crowd because he'd heard Corroded Coffin's name making the rounds. The one where they'd be getting a phone call first thing in the morning asking to meet at an agency.

Their we finally fucking made it show.

"Unlikely," Eddie said, wet fingers brushing a few strands of loose hair back over her ear. "But I appreciate the vote of confidence."

Chrissy said nothing for a moment. Then, using some expert maneuvers won over years in dance and cheer, she pivoted, working her lithe little body until she was comfortably situated in his lap. Eddie's arms automatically wrapped around her, sinking lower into the water so she didn't go sliding off his slickened skin and into the faucet.

"You guys are amazing," she said without a hint of irony coloring her tone. Wet hands cupping his jaw, she nudged her nose against his. "You have a contagious stage presence and you play incredibly. There's no way you aren't going to make it. Got it?"

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, eyes on her lips. "You gonna be my little cheerleader the whole way?"

"I've been with you this far, haven't I?" she shot back, wearing that gorgeous grin he loved so much. "I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. You're stuck with me."

"Hey," Eddie said, affronted. "That's my line. Who's stuck with who?"

Wiggling her hips in his lap (which was... yeah, doing things), Chrissy smiled. "I think you're the one who's literally stuck here, love."

Tucking his thumb against her chin, Eddie just chuckled, drawing her in for a kiss that tasted of promise. Of this future she was certain would come to fruition, where they stood hand-in-hand as recognition fell upon the band. Because Chrissy had sacrificed so much for him, for all of them, and Eddie would be damned if he didn't have opportunity to return the favor.

Oh shit, he realized as she chased his lips for another kiss. This is it. This is the fucking moment.

And his pants are on the other side of the goddamn room.

Shit. Shit. Okay. He could make this work.

"Hey, uh." He smiled when she kissed him again, the wet skin of her squirming in his lap again as she made a little huff of disapproval. "Wait, wait, sweetness, hang on."

Chrissy blinked at him. One hundred percent caught off guard because Eddie had never turned down her advances before. (How could he? He had an actual goddess sitting naked in his lap. Who was he to tell her no when she wanted to, y'know, get closer?)

"Did I, um. Did I overstep?"

"No, fuck no, just, uh––" Grabbing Chrissy's long-handled loofa off the tub rim, Eddie set a firm hand on Chrissy's thigh, anchoring both of them as he leaned as far out of the tub as he could to drag his jeans toward them. Sloshing water out of the side and making Chrissy yelp his name as she grabbed his shoulders to hang on.

The handle slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor with one pant leg right there. Eddie leaned further out, stretching his fingertips as Chrissy squealed. He heard the water splashing, but that just seemed a small price to pay.

Whooping in excitement, he managed to get a small piece of denim between his middle and ring fingers, yanking the jeans across the floor and digging around in the pockets for that fucking bag.

"Eddie! They're gonna get all wet!"

"They'll dry," he responded, finally finding the stupid ring bag in his back pocket. He dropped the jeans uncaringly into the puddle he'd created, resettling Chrissy against him and tangling his hands in her hair as he kissed her question of what he was doing off her lips.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked, a little breathless from the combination of half-crawling out of the tub and the spark from their kiss. Chrissy, wide-eyed and confused, giggled a little when she nodded. "Like, more than anything?"

"Yes, Eddie, I know."

"And I wanna spend, y'know, the rest of my goddamn life with you. You know that, too?"

Chrissy blinked, her smile fading with parted lips as realization seemed to dawn new horizons across her face.

"I-I mean, yeah," she said after he waited a second for her answer. "Eddie, what––"

"I, uh, picked this up a while ago," he admitted, brandishing the tiny bag. "Been waiting for, like, the perfect moment, I guess. But, I dunno. Kinda realized that, maybe all our moments are perfect, y'know?"

He opened the bag, tilting it so the ring fell into his opposite palm. Her eyes widened, jaw falling slack as she gasped.

"I just want to make more moments with you, Chrissy," Eddie said earnestly. "Before and after a quick trip to the altar, I mean."

"Oh, my God," she breathed, trembling fingertip reaching out and gently stroking the gold band. "Are you–– Are you serious?"

"You are the one thing in my life I am one-hundred-percent serious about, sweetness," Eddie replied, softly brushing a thumb against her cheek. She glanced at him, so briefly he almost missed it, but she couldn't take her eyes off the ring. "Marry me?"

"Okay," she said, voice still breathless. Blinking, she shook her head as though she were falling out of a trance, her eyes instantly filling with tears that spilled over her cheeks, mixing with the water of their bath. "I mean, yes, yes, of course, Eddie, oh, my God!"

Throwing her arms around him, Eddie heard more water as it splashed over the side of the tub. It made him laugh, burying his face in her hair and holding her close as she cried into his neck.

"I love you," she sobbed, pulling back and letting him open his fist so she could take the ring. "Oh, my God, and it's our birthstones!" The realization made her cry harder, and Eddie had to help her get the ring on her finger. "You remembered!"

"Of course I did," he chuckled, his own eyes wet with the amount of love he felt for this girl. "I remember everything you say to me."

"We both know that's not true."

"Okay, well, I make an effort, at least!"

She laughed through her sobs, pulling him in and kissing him soundly. Crying, laughing harder, then crying some more between desperately locked lips. Completely soaking his jeans next to the tub, but Eddie couldn't care less.

He had his fiancée in his lap.

"I love you," she gasped between kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Love you, too, little wife," Eddie grinned. "So much."

Yeah. Perfect fucking moment.

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #stranger things #chrissy x eddie #ask meme #hellcheer drabble #lil marriage proposal #anon ask #ebongawk ask #sorry this took 84 years anon

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katasstrophy · 1 year

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I think everyone in the Bllk Fandom has agreed that everyone single guy would be intensely and stupidly obsessed when in love, but who are the biggest simps in your opinion and what is the simpiest thing they would do?? (Simp is used very affectionately btw)

nonnie, if they ain't simping, I don' want 'em ! tags. afab! reader. use of y/n once. suggestive themes in isagi’s. i think i use one bad word lol. kayla if you’re reading this the nanase one’s for YOU! 🫵

THE BIGGEST SIMPS OF BLUE LOCK (AFFECTIONATE):

—TOKIMITSU AOSHI

this hunk of a nervous wreck genuinely wakes up every day baffled by the fact that he gets to call you his romantic partner. it is beyond any semblance of logic he possesses why you chose to date him of all people — you asked him out, yet he was the one that almost keeled over from nervousness — and it regularly sends him down a neverending loop of self-doubt. your presence, however, soothes the brunt of that spiralling. it doesn’t stop his anxiety entirely, he knows that’s not how it works, but being around you dulls the noise in his head to a thrum he can manage, focusing instead on being in the moment with you. that’s why tokimitsu has the uncanny ability to spot you wherever you are, no matter the circumstances. he could be in the middle of an intense game with thousands watching from the bleachers or waiting near a busy intersection in shibuya to treat you to some umeboshi riceballs for your date, he’s so attuned to you, he’ll glance up and you’re there, cheering him on or giving him an enthusiastic wave with a grin that splits your cheeks apart, the sight making his heart beat erratically in his ribcage, this time not from nerves, but love.

—NANASE NIJIRO

this absolute sweetheart of a man is always talking about you, not that it ever occurred to him that he shouldn’t. he’s the type of boyfriend who finds a million ways to sneak you into the conversation while hanging out with his friends, completely turning the topic from him to you. a simple question of what were you up to this weekend? leads to an inevitable but hearty ramble of oh y/n and i went on a picnic back in kansai, and they made these super yummy wanpaku sandwiches- until basically everyone in his immediate circle can recount your life history. and nanase manages this so naturally, so effortlessly, that his friends don’t even notice they haven’t been told a single piece of information about how he’s doing until they draw a blank about anything regarding him, but can recall your great sandwich making skills and the promotion you recently received with great detail. on the occasion you go pick him up after late-night practice, his teammates frequently congratulate you on things you have zero memory of sharing. at your quirked brows, nanase only chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if to say i just can’t help myself when it comes to you. he really is your most ardent supporter.

—ISAGI YOICHI

you know those how men wanna be treated when their boys aren’t around memes? isagi’s stance towards your relationship is the furthest thing away from that. he’s open and honest with his affection for you and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about who happens to see him being horrendously smitten with you. he spins around with you at the airport every time you come to greet him home even though he knows it’s super cheesy and the paparazzi may be watching. he rests your chin on your shoulder at formal events, gently swaying your bodies as he hugs you from behind to cure his boredom. he flashes a cheeky grin when you ladle him with sweet pet names, cooing right back at you. his teammates tease and make fun of him mercilessly for it, but isagi’s quick to spit back an aw, not getting any good pussy lately? sorry for your loss, humbling them so nonchalantly you almost forget to smack him for it. it doesn’t deter him in the slightest as he hooks a long finger past the waistband of your pants to pull you closer, ushering you out so you can go home and watch the newest episode of your show together, leaving his gobsmacked teammates behind.

—BONUS: RAICHI JINGO

he has such that’s my wife! energy. raichi would love to show you off and rub it into anyone’s face that he scored the fucking jackpot with you, so everyone can go cry about it while he gets to hog all your attention lol he adores you.

#—ping! new message from (anon)#i almost put reo here but i was like no. no no no he’s obsessive not simpy! there’s a difference 😌✨#—bllk.thoughts!#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #tokimitsu aoshi x reader #nanase nijiro x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #raichi jingo x reader

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donutwatches · 5 months

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MHA 2.17 - Climax - part 2

This is a first watch of MHA, no spoilers please.

Imagine talking to sunshine boy Iida this way. Stain's philosophy has enough logic to be compelling, but his standards for heroes are impossibly high. No one is perfect and heroes should not be murdered for having human flaws.

Todoroki is out here spitting vocab AND truth. I do not even have to understand a word he just said to know he is laying out facts.

Ah yes, this is Shoto- You Have Been My Friend For 5 Minutes, And Now I Will Roast Villains To Their Face For You- Todoroki.

He is only a high school student. He is still learning! He is so harsh on himself. His brother was injured in a forever life-altering way and lashing out is normal. I got chills watching him stand back up to fight!

Ah yes, this is Tenya - You Have Been My Friend For 5 Minutes, And Now I Will Run In Front Of Flying Daggers For You - Iida.

This is so smart! I love it when this show comes up with such creative uses for quirks.

GET WRECKED! This had the best action of the show thus far. It got bouncing in my chair.

I have nothing to say about this screencap. It is just funny. Look at these three idiots. Look at them.

He got humbled by 3 high school kids. They iced him, literally. Being wrapped up in ice like that would hurt like hell. GOOD.

Click here for part 3

Click here for the masterlist

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #anime #izuku midoriya #deku #midoriya #hero killer stain #stain #tenya iida #iida #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #todoroki

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dreamlessimp · 1 year

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— mint gum

bachira meguru x reader | 0.9k

he hates bitter things, but you thought to test it

bachira meguru is an outspoken hater of all things bitter. he claimed they simply don’t go with his personality, as if the two had any actual ties. you couldn’t deny though, that it certainly fit him well.

he was the first person you thought of when ‘sweet’ came to mind, and the label fit him terribly well in your humble opinion. according to him, he trusted that you knew him well enough to form your objectively correct opinions. you were happy to agree.

alas, it was a commonplace game of yours to try to feed him bitter things, never entirely sure whether he’ll notice or not. it usually ended up in him getting mad at you, but his annoyance rarely lasted long.

how could he stay mad at you when he thought you looked so pretty laughing, even if at his expense. bachira wouldn’t admit it, but he may play up his negative reactions, just a bit. if it made you smile that much more, he was confident it was fully worth it.

the way your face lit up made him feel like the gross tasting leaf you’d just made him swallow was made of butterflies, and so who was his own pride to deny him of the sight?

this didn’t mean he enjoyed it though, especially considering that he had much better ways of making you laugh. it was a bit unfortunate that his displeasure brought you more joy than his occasionally well-timed jokes, but who was he to go against it? you liked his jokes well enough anyways.

gum was quite clearly banned from your school. you supposed it was fair enough, considering the concerning number of students who stuck theirs underneath the desks. did this rule stop most people though? of course not.

bachira walked up to you, balancing his lunch tray in one hand, waving at you excitedly with the other. “hey!” he exclaimed before meeting you at your usual table, where a late isagi had yet to join you.

“hi!” you responded, a bit too excitedly in your opinion. beneath the table, you crossed your fingers that he failed to notice.

just as expected, to your relief, he did not. it was lucky isagi was late, as he certainly would have asked you about it in passing. not that it would matter much either way.

bachira took a seat across from you and leaned forward to try to steal the small dessert from your tray. rejecting this, you swatted his hand away. “hey! mine.” you spoke jokingly, as though you were offended.

“that’s supposed to be my line.” bachira responded, massaging the back of his hand, the grin in his voice disagreeing with the attempted serious look on his face. “i can’t believe you hit me.” he reached again in order to bop your head.

you recoiled as if in shock. “and to think,” you began, revealing your hand to bachira. “i was planning to give you this gum.” you curled open your hand to show him the pink-wrapped piece of gum.

on your tray, behind the dessert he tried to take, was another piece of gum. This one the real one, as opposed to the mint gum in your hand bachira was staring at intently.

seconds later, bachira hand flew out to grab the gum from your partially open hand. “i’ll accept this as your apology, i guess.” he announced happily.

you held up a hand as if you foolishly expected him to politely place it back. with a glance at you, he dropped the now unwrapped gum into his mouth, apparently not taking notice of its obvious green color.

instantly, bachira felt the bitterness erupt in his throat and his eyes began to water. he briefly believed you had just poised him, before recognizing the sensation as that of mint. the mint gum that he blamed you for forcing him to eat, by the way.

“ow, ow, ow!” bachira chanted as if it would help. so clearly working against him, though, was the unfortunate fact that he had yet to actually spit out the gum.

eventually, he thought to spit it out amongst your laughs and slightly concerned stare.

“why did you keep it?” you asked through laughter.

he momentarily faltered before beginning to answer. “i was too busy thinking that i had been poisoned.” he fanned at his mouth dramatically before turning to you.

“if only you could help my burning mouth?” he suggested, his voice just as happy as his face, the pain likely being long-forgotten. or, at least, he was focused on more pressing matters.

apparently, bachira was not one to pass up opportunity. for the sake of his pride, your friendship, and this moment not haunting him forever, he hoped you were as well.

you shrugged and he took the chance to messily smash his lips against yours.

seconds later, your poor friend turned third wheel, isagi, decided to finally show up.

as he apologetically tripped over his words in an effort to explain that he could eat somewhere else, bachira shrugged and happily invited him to sit down, where he placed his lunch tray on the same side as bachira, leaving just enough distance between the three of you that it was obvious you and bachira were sat closer.

you weren’t exactly surprised when a minute later, the corner of a napkin fell onto the tray in front of you, and carefully (messily) scribbled onto its side, was a message stating that his mouth hurt really badly after school, and that he should walk you home in the name of fairness.

#ssimpfics #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #bachira x reader #meguru x reader #bachira meguru fluff #bachira fluff #blue lock bachira #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk bachira #bllk fluff

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rhondafromhr · 26 days

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Lautity shippers I’m working on something for you!!

Not done yet but I wanted to share this snippet of what I have so far <3

(Also content warning: it’s pretty brief but it does deal with homophobia/internalized homophobia)

Summary: When Solomon decides raising her grades isn’t enough to get her phone back and demands Stephanie round out her extracurriculars, she maliciously complies by joining Grace in her anti-homecoming campaign. After all, yelling at her classmates about spunk and trying to get their dance canceled won’t be very good for his precious public image. Grace is glad to have the extra help, but gets more than she bargained for when she starts to develop feelings for Stephanie.

Stephanie’s hands are twitching. Somewhere out there, somebody is certainly posting the worst, most horrendous take known to man on Twitter at this very moment and here she is without her phone, powerless to do anything about it. It’s such bullshit. Her dad said that if she raised her grades to a C average, she could have it back, but at the last minute he decided that wasn’t enough and demanded she start rounding out her currently lackluster list of extracurriculars. In her opinion, spitting cold hard facts and spicy hot takes online totally counts (it’s basically journalism if you think about it), but he emphatically disagreed. She has to do something she can actually put on a college application, which means smoke club is off the table. To make matters worse, she made the mistake of complaining to Stacy and Brenda about her predicament and they’ve decided she just has to join cheer.

“Seriously, just try the new cheer with us and see how you like it! I mean you’re pretty, you’re popular, why aren’t you a cheerleader already?” says Brenda.

“Uh, doesn’t it also require, like, dance skills and athleticism and enthusiasm?” Steph says with a skeptical look.

“Oh, you can learn all that stuff,” Stacy says cheerfully.

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but isn’t it too late to join?” Stephanie replies, increasingly desperate for some way to end this conversation.

“Technically, yeah, but I’m captain! I’m sure I can talk coach into making an exception for you,” Brenda says “seriously, just give it a try and tell us you don’t absolutely love it!”

“Do I really need to try it to tell you I don’t absolutely love it? I’ve never tried, like, squeezing lemon juice into an open wound, either, but I’m pretty confident I don’t like that.”

They both purse their lips in confusion, pausing just long enough for her salvation to arrive - fittingly enough, in the form of Grace. Honestly, the least she can do is help Stephanie out of this jam. Her inability to butt out and let people cheat on tests in peace is the reason Stephanie’s even in this situation in the first place. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she almost made them all complicit in manslaughter with that stupid prank. If Pete dove to catch Max even a fraction of a second later, she doesn’t want to think about what would’ve happened. Then again, Max’s brush with death seems to have humbled him and he’s at least been trying to be less of an asshole, so she supposes she has to give Grace credit for making Hatchetfield High a more tolerable place to be. Besides that, whether she likes it or not, they’re running in the same circles now. Steph’s been spending more time with Pete and Pete hangs out with Ruth and Richie, who hang out with Grace, so they’re stuck together, at least at lunch. To make things even weirder, Max has been joining them and those four have been letting him.

“Hey! Grace!” Stephanie calls with uncharacteristic enthusiasm as Grace rounds the corner, her “Homec*mming: don’t dance with temptation!” sign held high.

“Hi, Stephanie,” she says, eyeing her suspiciously “I assume you haven’t changed your mind about allowing that excuse for sin and debauchery to happen?”

“I, uh, you know what? Yes I have,” says Stephanie. Surprise flashes across Grace’s face before she hands over the pink glitter gel pen attached to her clipboard so Stephanie can sign. There’s something so strangely charming about the fact that she uses a freaking glitter gel pen of all things for this.

“Actually,” Stephanie says as she puts down her signature with a flourish “I was wondering if you needed any help with your campaign.”

It’s brilliant. She can fulfill her father’s extracurricular requirement and simultaneously make him regret ever asking her to do it. He’s constantly hounding her about not doing anything to smear his public image and hurt his chances of reelection. Joining Grace in going around school harassing all of her peers and telling them they’re going to hell for supporting homecoming is going to reflect very, very poorly on him. Not to mention how pissed off everyone will be if they actually succeed in canceling the dance. They won’t, but a girl can dream. What’s more, the Chasitys are fairly powerful members of the community and crossing them by suddenly ditching their daughter when she promised to help her is also going to make him look bad. It’s a lose-lose situation for her father and, therefore, win-win for her. See, she is pretty damn smart, no matter what he says.

Grace eyes her suspiciously. “You want to help? You? Why the sudden change of heart?”

Shit, how is she going to explain it? There’s no way Grace is going to believe she suddenly saw the light and became a prude overnight.

“I, just, uh, realized I wasn’t being very open-minded to your worldview. Think of it as a gesture of goodwill. Besides, we’re friends, right? Comrades. Classmates. Nighthawks. And Nighthawks gotta stick together, so if canceling the dance is really all that important to you, then what the hell- heck! I mean heck! I’ll help you out.”

“Well, it has been pretty lonely trying to do it all by myself,” Grace admits, “alright, I guess you can join.”

Stacy and Brenda have been watching this play out, periodically turning to each other to exchange bewildered looks. They only become more confused when Stephanie asks them to sign the petition, too. Brenda shrugs and accepts the pen, writing down her name in perfectly neat cursive. She’s stoked for the homecoming game and pep rally, but she couldn’t care less about the dance right now. It’s been two weeks since Max almost died or whatever and promised to stop bossing everybody around, meaning there’s nothing stopping Kyle from asking her out. So why hasn’t he? She’s been watching grand, romantic hoco proposals at lunch every single day and slowly losing hope that he has one planned for her. Stacy immediately follows suit. Steph and Brenda signed, so she’s obviously going to. She doesn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Wow, three signatures! That’s more than I’ve gotten the entire time I’ve been doing this! Steph, you’re incredible!” The way Grace’s face lights up is almost endearing and Stephanie has to admit that it’s nice to get some praise and recognition for once.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Steph replies with a faint, mischievous smirk.

Before they part ways to head to their next class, Stephanie finds herself agreeing to go to Grace’s after school. Apparently, if she’s serious about this, she needs her own sign to carry around.

“It’ll be fun, Steph,” Grace insists “think of it like arts and crafts!”

“My favorite,” Stephanie says flatly as they load Grace’s pink Schwinn into the backseat of her car.

It turns out that the Chasity household is all the way across town. Grace must be surprisingly athletic if she makes that commute on her bike twice a day. It sits in a cul de sac lined with near-identical two-story houses, complete with perfectly maintained green lawns and white picket fences. It’s exactly how Stephanie would have pictured it. At least it is until they go upstairs to Grace’s bedroom and she sees that the door’s been removed from his hinges.

“I know open floor plans are trendy right now, but this seems like overkill,” she says “why do you just, like, straight up not have a bedroom door?”

“Oh, I’m not allowed to,” Grace says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world “my parents are worried I might get up to some inappropriate activities unsupervised.”

“Inappropriate? You?” Steph says “what, are they afraid you’re gonna stay up until eight forty-five instead of eight thirty doing bible study?”

The joke is lost on Grace.

“No, Steph, really bad stuff! Like…” she pauses and looks around as if to make sure they’re alone, then lowers her voice to a whisper “…reading lewd magazines or touching myself.”

This explains a lot about Grace. Despite herself, Stephanie can’t help but feel bad for her. Along with that comes a slight, unexpected sense of kinship. She knows a thing or two about overly controlling parents. Sure, Solomon ignores her ninety percent of the time, but the ten percent he doesn’t, he’s always on her ass about something she should be doing or shouldn’t be doing or needs to be doing differently.

Grace’s small bedroom is immaculately clean and organized. It consists of a twin-sized bed in the corner with a pastel pink and blue quilt, a small desk and a largely empty bookshelf lined with only a small handful of church-approved reading material. Stephanie’s eyes are drawn to the figure of Jesus on the crucifix hanging on the door.

“What’s with the sweater?” she asks “is that some kind of obscure biblical reference I don’t get?”

“Oh, no,” Grace replies “I just knitted that for him ‘cause I think he needs to cover up. I get that he died for our sins, but he doesn’t need to have his nips out to do it.”

Stephanie stifles a laugh as they settle down on the floor with their posterboard and Grace’s impressive collection of colorful markers and get to work on her sign. To make things more interesting, she challenges herself to come up with the worst possible slogan and get Grace to approve it.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” she says, snapping her fingers “how about ‘homecoming? More like hell going.’”

“I like that,” says Grace “it really gets the point across. You’re pretty smart, Steph.” If her eyes water at that, it’s just allergies. Despite the cleanliness of the room, Grace must have forgotten to dust it recently. Yeah. That’s it.

Stephanie doesn’t get much sleep that night. With no Twitter fights to distract her, she simply stares at the ceiling until two in the morning thinking about the surprising amount of fun she had hanging out with Grace today and the glance she got into Grace’s home life that awakened a new sense of sympathy for the school snitch. Given how ludicrously strict the Chasitys seem to be, her existence is probably totally devoid of typical teenage mischief. She probably hasn’t so much as snuck out for a late-night convenience store run. It’ll take some convincing, but maybe Steph can change that.

God, who is she? Why is she lying here actually thinking about willingly spending time with Grace? The lack of screen time must be messing with her head. She always thought getting off of that cesspool of an app would improve her brain function, but apparently not. She needs her phone back, pronto. She just has to survive the next couple weeks first.

The second she wakes up, Stephanie realizes she’s going to fall asleep in class without the help of caffeine. She stops off at that singing coffee shop and gets her usual, a black americano with seven shots. She’s not sure they’re even legally allowed to serve that much caffeine in one drink, but they always indulge her. Being the mayor’s daughter does have its perks. On a whim, she decides to get an herbal peach tea for Grace. She double checks that it’s caffeine free and watches the barista vigilantly to make sure she doesn’t spit in it as it’s rumored they sometimes do here. It’s not like she wants to, but they agreed to touch base before class and it would be rude not to bring her anything. Solomon may be a shitty dad, but he raised her to have manners, damnit.

Grace is waiting for her on the steps in front of the school and accepts the tea almost cautiously, tentatively taking a sip once Stephanie reassures her that it doesn’t contain what she refers to as a gateway drug. Stephanie actually googled it once to try and prove her wrong and learned that caffeine is, in fact, technically a drug, even if she still doesn’t believe it’s a slippery slope to smoking “the devil’s lettuce” like Grace insists it is. No wonder she gets headaches when she doesn’t drink her seven shot americano. Huh, Grace might almost have a point.

“Oh, that’s really good,” she says brightly “I usually just drink plain hot water, but this is way better. I think it might be my new favorite. Thanks, Steph!”

Stephanie decides not to wonder why she’s so pleased that Grace liked it or why her heart flutters a little at the thought that it’s Grace’s new favorite. Maybe it’ll become her go-to order and she’ll think of Stephanie every time she drinks it.

“Alright, we’ve got like ten minutes before classes start, let’s get this show on the road,” Steph says. She sets her sights on a couple nerds climbing up the steps, engaged in a conversation about some TV show about a time traveling doctor.

“Hey,” she says “Rita! TJ!”

“It’s, uh, it’s Reese and PJ,” the one with the pigtails and the glasses says nervously. They both look a little terrified of her, which makes sense. She does run with the jocks and cheerleaders who were probably picking on them until recently.

“Right,” she says, trying to emulate her father’s constituent charming smile “say, you don’t want your tax dollars funding a school-sanctioned fuckfest, do you?”

“Steph! Language,” Grace scolds her.

“Uh,” Reese replies, clearly distressed and confused.

“We’re high schoolers,” says PJ, equally uncertain “I mean, I have, like, a part-time job at the bookstore, so I guess I’m technically a taxpayer? Look, is this some new type of bullying? Because it’s making me really uncomfortable, I’d honestly rather you just gave me a swirly and got it over with.”

“PJ!” Reese says “speak for yourself! I don’t want a swirly. I’ll take the weird experimental bullying.”

“Oh, perish the thought! It’s not bullying. We’re out here trying to save souls,” Stephanie says dramatically “as a wise woman once said, homecoming is just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. We can’t allow that such depravity and debauchery to take place. Not at our school. Sign this petition to keep the hallways free of sin and the gym floor free of spunk.” She’s actually having a blast hamming it up like this. Maybe she should look into drama club. She turns to look at Grace, who’s positively beaming and giving her two thumbs up.

“If we, uh, if we sign your petition, will you leave us alone?” PJ asks, shrinking back from Stephanie and hiding behind Reese.

“Deal,” Steph says, already handing her the glitter gel pen. She and Reese hastily sign and book it to get away from her.

It gets better from there. She catches Brad Callahan in the hallway and harasses him to sign, too. When he refuses on the grounds that Sarah Peterson agreed to go with him and they’re “totally going to get to third base”, she gets to channel her inner Grace and tell him he’s going to burn in hell. If there is an afterlife similar to what’s posited in the bible, she honestly does believe he will, but for entirely different reasons.

“Have fun letting the devil lick your skin clean off with his sandpaper tongue,” she calls after him. God, that was cathartic.

By the end of the week, half the school is thoroughly annoyed by her and Grace’s proselytizing and the other half have, by some miracle, actually agreed to sign that damn petition. Every day, she comes up with another excuse (reason. They’re valid reasons) to hang out with Grace after school. They have to make new flyers to hand out. They have to make pamphlets to educate people on the safety hazard of bodily fluids on the gym floor. Now that they’re getting serious traction, they have to discuss how to bring the petition to the principal and then, potentially, the school board.

It was only a matter of time before Solomon caught wind of all this and confronted her. She gets home from drafting their proposal for principal Blim to find him waiting up for her in the living room, a scowl on his face. It gives her slight deja vu for the day her precious smartphone was taken from her.

“Well, if it isn’t my October surprise.”

“Oh, hi, Dad. To what do I owe the pleasure?” she says mockingly.

“Don’t get cute with me,” he says “care to explain why I’m getting phone calls from your school about you trying to cancel the homecoming dance and yelling at your classmates about ‘spunk’?”

“You were the one who told me to round out my extracurriculars,” she replies with a smug grin “I’m helping Grace Chasity with her campaign. Haven’t you heard? Homecoming is just a disgusting excuse to dry hump in the gym.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Stephanie, I meant a real extracurricular. Volleyball! German club! Yearbook! Anything but whatever the hell this is!”

“What’s the big deal?” she says “you were so worried what people would think of my nocturnal activities when that rumor started going around and now it’s not an issue anymore. Everyone knows I’m strictly anti-sex.”

“Well, you’re going to knock it off this instant if you don’t want me to smash your phone with a hammer for real.”

“Okay. Done,” she says, pausing for effect before grinning evilly and adding, “oh, you know what. I just thought of something. The Chasitys are a pretty big deal in the community, huh? Pretty important in the church. They’re not going to be too happy with me if I ditch their daughter and leave her out to dry when I promised I’d help her, are they?”

Solomon throws his hands up and lets out an exasperated groan.

“You’re killing me, Stephanie!” he says “you’re killing me with what you’re doing!”

“If only, Dad. If only,” she says quietly, still smirking as he retreats to his study.

Grace climbs out of bed and stretches, feeling slightly groggy from sleeping in an extra half hour. Steph’s giving her a ride today, meaning she didn’t have to get up quite so early to give herself time to bike to school. She usually doesn’t mind it - she likes getting the fresh air and the way it quiets her usually racing mind - but it’s pouring rain today and she’d much rather be inside a warm, dry car. Steph’s company doesn’t hurt, either. She knows their relationship is strictly business, but she’s been having fun with Steph and she’s starting to think of her as an actual friend. She wonders if Steph feels the same way. She’s never had many friends before, so it’s hard to tell. She gets dressed, brushes her teeth, washes her face and even puts on some of that moisturizer Steph gave her to try when she complained about her dry skin. She goes downstairs and toasts up two blueberry bagels, spreading cream cheese onto them and placing one neatly into a Tupperware container for Steph. She always oversleeps and misses breakfast, so Grace has been trying to bring her something reasonably nutritious every day. It’s the least she can do with how much Steph has helped her recently.

Stephanie pulls up in front of her house and she climbs into the car, immediately relaxed by the feeling of the heat blasting and the sound of soft jazz playing on the stereo.

“I like the music,” Grace comments.

“Yeah, I thought it’d fit the cozy rainy day vibes,” says Steph.

“It is cozy,” Grace agrees.

“So, two hundred signatures, huh?” Steph says “did you ever think you’d get that far?”

“No,” says Grace “not in my wildest dreams. I never could have done it on my own. I’m nowhere near as convincing as you. If you can believe it, a lot of people say I come on a little strong.”

“What? No way!” Stephanie says in a lighthearted, teasing manner. “Maybe you do, but that’s not always a bad thing,” she adds after a moment with a rare fond, sincere smile.

The heat must be turned up a little too high, because Grace can feel her face flushing. They arrive at school and as Stephanie reaches into the backseat to grab her bag, Grace wonders what it would be like to lean in and kiss her. How soft her lips would be and whether she’d taste bitter from all that coffee she slams. Oh, heck. Oh, no.

She shoves that thought deep down into the recesses of her mind where it belongs. She tells Steph they should divide and conquer instead of sticking together today, claiming it’s because they’re running out of time and they need to cover as much ground as possible. She isn’t sure, but she could swear Steph looks a little sad. Despite her efforts, her mind keeps wandering back to that moment in the car as she traverses the hallway trying to collect more signatures at lunch. She’d give anything for some kind of distraction right now. Well, ask and you shall receive, as they say. Max approaches and, as usual, he brightens up when he sees her.

“Hey, Grace,” he says cheerfully, absolutely enraptured by her “what are you doin’?”

“Hi, Max,” she says absently, too wrapped up in her current crisis to scold him for leering at her like that “getting the dance canceled, same as usual.”

“Where are you headed? Maybe I could, uh, carry your books for you? If you want. No pressure. Or we could just walk together,” he says with a bright, hopeful smile.

“Max, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, we’re way too young for that! Besides, if you don’t change your ways, you’re already hellbound. You don’t need to make things worse for yourself by associating with a sinner like me.”

Max furrows his brow in genuine confusion. “What are you talking about? You’re, like, the biggest prude in school.”

She feels tears pricking at her eyes. “That’s really sweet of you to say, Max, but you don’t understand. I think I like someone. Like, like-like them.”

“Is it me?” he asks, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. She gives him an incredulous look.

“No,” she says. His face falls slightly, but there’s no time to dwell on his disappointment now. Who the hell is this guy, anyway? He’s going to kick his ass- wait, no. No, he’s not. Grace is her own person and she’s allowed to go out with whoever she wants. It’s not this mystery dude’s fault if she likes him and not Max.

“That’s the thing,” she continues, “that someone’s a girl, too!”

The tears flow freely now and she begins to sob quietly. Max’s eyes go wide and he freezes up like a deer in headlights. He has no idea how to handle this. Until recently, he made people cry on a near daily basis, usually deliberately. Getting them to stop crying, on the other hand, is uncharted territory.

“Aw, Grace, c’mon, don’t cry,” he starts. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t do much. “I’ll sign your petition! I’ll make everybody sign your petition! How’s that sound? No homecoming! No spunk on the gym floor!” When she doesn’t even respond to that, he knows it’s serious. “Lots of people like girls. I like girls! Who doesn’t? They’re great.”

She sniffles. “Yeah, b-but you’re a boy. You’re supposed to!”

He pauses. “Well, I don’t bring it up a lot, but I like guys, too. See, you’re not alone. We’re, like, uh, what’s the phrase? Like two peas in a pod,” he says, trying to sound gentle and reassuring, which is also uncharted territory for him. She pauses and looks at him for a second.

“Oh, gosh,” she says and starts bawling even harder. He winces and realizes he’s in way over his head. It’s time to message Ruth and Richie for backup.

Grace is crying, plz help

He receives a string of incredibly graphic threats and knife emojis from both of them in response and adds, I swear I didn’t do it!! At least not on purpose!!

Yeah well there’s a difference between intent and impact bitch. Smh have you already forgotten the anti bullying assembly??? Richie replies but yeah meet us in the AV classroom, it’s empty rn

He leads Grace there and Ruth and Richie await them. She sniffles and takes a seat. Ruth hands her a water bottle and Richie gives her a small pack of tissues. He always carries some around to dab the sweat from his forehead. It’s not like they’re very useful for him, anyway. They usually end up disintegrating from becoming so soaked.

“You wanna tell us what’s wrong, Grace?” Richie asks.

She tugs at the sleeve of Max’s letterman, looking at him with red, puffy eyes. His chest tightens. It’s hard to see her like this, so sad and scared and drained. His face forms a puzzled expression as he tries to figure out what she’s trying to communicate until he finally realizes.

“Oh,” he says “you want me to tell ‘em?” She nods, still dabbing at her eyes with the tissues. “She’s sad ‘cause she likes a girl. But there’s nothing wrong with that, right? Who doesn’t like girls?”

“Uh, me,” says Richie.

“Oh, right, sorry, Richie,” Max corrects himself, looking a little sheepish.

“Preach!” says Ruth, raising her hand to high five Max. He enthusiastically returns it. “If girls loving girls is wrong, then I don’t want to be right! See, Grace, you’re not alone. You’re just like me. Two peas in a pod!”

Grace buries her face in her hands and starts bawling again.

He looks at Ruth and Richie with slight indignation.

“See,” he says “it’s not so easy, is it?” His point made, he turns to watch Grace helplessly. Grace, who was the mastermind behind the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him, even if he did later find out that it was an admittedly well deserved revenge prank. Grace, who didn’t have to be his friend and probably shouldn’t even be giving him the time of day after the way he treated her, but still does anyway. Grace, who’s usually so opinionated and snarky and passionate, always fired up about something and never shy about it, regardless of what other people think.

He’s been learning to accept that he can’t control every little thing. That trying to have power over everything and everybody was deeply unhealthy and all it really accomplished apart from a fleeting power trip was making everybody miserable and secretly resentful of him. It’s hard letting go, but it’s also been liberating. The powerlessness he feels right now is crushing, though. There’s nothing freeing about it. He can’t stand sitting here watching his friend break down because she thinks that some fundamental part of herself is wrong. He wants to fight the people who made her feel this way, but he suspects that particular list is too extensive for him to work his way through. What good would it do now, anyway? Maybe it’s finally time to take the advice of the exhausted, overworked second grade teacher who was definitely not paid enough to put up with all of his shit and use his words instead of hitting. Better late than never, as they say.

“Grace,” he says gently, not even sure where he’s going with this, but unable to stand the silence anymore “we’re, uh, we’re here for you, alright? It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! No it’s not,” she cries in a strained, hoarse voice “even if it’s true that there’s nothing wrong with liking girls, my parents sure don’t think so! What’s gonna happen to me if they find out? They’ll probably make me go live at abstinence camp with the Jerries for the rest of my life!”

“Well, we’re eighteen, right?” says Ruth “they can’t make you.”

“And if they try, you’ll just come live with me instead,” says Richie “uncle Paul would be more than cool with it. He loves you. He says you’re a good influence because you don’t let me blow off my homework to watch anime and you make me go to bed before three in the morning.”

“Well, you need your eight hours,” she says with a soft and sincere, but tired smile “thanks, guys. That does make me feel a little better.” She tentatively pulls Richie into a hug, not caring about the stench or how damp he is. Ruth, of course, eagerly joins in, not about to miss the opportunity for human contact. Max stays put and looks at them with hesitation, not sure if they want him to join.

“What are you doing, Max?” says Grace “get in here.” Well, that answers his question. He still holds back, watching Ruth and Richie for their reactions.

“It’s only fair,” says Richie with a smirk “you did make her cry.” He scowls, but there’s no real malice behind it. He comes over and wraps his arms around them tight.

With Grace sufficiently cheered up, there’s still one question on everyone’s minds.

“So, who’s the lucky lady?” says Ruth “wait, it’s not me, is it?”

“What? No,” she says, her signature snark finally making a comeback.

“It’s okay, Ruth. I got shot down, too,” says Max “two peas in a pod!” They high five again.

“It’s Steph,” she finally admits.

“Makes sense,” says Richie “she is waifu material.” Ruth nods in agreement.

“Waifu material?” Max asks, furrowing his brow in confusion again. Richie places a hand on each of his shoulders and looks at him with an intense, solemn expression.

“I have much to teach you,” he says “come over after football practice, we’re watching all the classics. We’ll start you off with Ouran, I feel like it’s pretty approachable for a beginner.”

Ruth grabs his arm. “What? No fair, I still haven’t gotten to show him Star Wars. Come over to mine, Max, we’re watching the prequels.”

“The prequels, Ruth? Seriously? As if subjecting him to the trilogy isn’t bad enough.”

“Well, what do you know, you won’t even sit through one episode of Clone Wars with me!”

As they continue to bicker, a warmth blooms in his chest. They actually want to spend time with him to the point of arguing over who gets to. They want to be around him when they don’t have to. They like him. They’re not just sticking around out of fear. They trust him enough to invite him into their homes. To ask him to share in the nerdy interests he used to make fun of them for. He smiles softly and pulls them into another hug.

“We can do both,” he says.

“Ugh, fine,” Richie huffs, but a reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, Grace, you want to join us?” Max asks “oh, we should invite Steph and Pete, too!”

“Oh, I appreciate the invite, but I have my bible study group tonight.” That much is true. She is supposed to meet up with Mary, Gabe and Noah later to study scripture. She’s not sure she can face them after her realization today, but if she skips, her parents are sure to hear about it. Besides that, the alternative of joining them for their movie night and facing Peter is only slightly less daunting. It’s obvious that he like-likes Steph, too. She’s worried it’s going to make things awkward between them. What if Steph likes her and not Peter and he ends up getting hurt? What if Steph likes Peter and not Grace and she has to watch them hold hands and make eyes at each other and stuff down her heartbreak and pretend she never wanted any of those things?

#npmd #nerdy prudes must die #grace chasity #stephanie lauter #lautity #stephgrace #hatchetfield fanfic #max jagerman #cw homophobia #Ruth and Richie make an appearance but not enough to tag them #Pete is mentioned

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chickenparm · 1 year

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Proof of Concept (Kaveh/gn!Reader)

So, I read his story leaks, had a legitimate weep over this stupid, beatiful man, then set everything to the side for a moment to crank this out. Originally it was meant to be "ha ha silly dramatics" and then it very quickly evolved into "let's explore kaveh's deep-seated abandonment issues and his skewed perception of his self-worth".

anyway, enjoy, expect more kaveh.

AO3 Link

Kaveh/gn!Reader 3,847 Words - SFW Hurt/Comfort, spiraling internal monologues about self-worth in a relationship, slight codependency, resolved angst, Kaveh cries but never in front of anyone and you can't change my mind.

Kaveh owes more to you than Dori ever could have conjured up as a debt to keep him in shackles. Yet you don’t hold him down, you don’t demand constant recompense. In fact, you never make mention at all that the betterment of his life and mental health stems from you and you alone.

When he moved out of Alhaitham’s home and into yours, Alhaitham had a rare show of concern that to any other onlooker might have been mistaken for cruelty or unnecessary jabs. But Kaveh is well aware of Alhaitham’s thought processes, loathe as he is to admit it, and understands that Alhaitham’s question isn’t posed out of malice, but of a subtle concern for someone that had once been his friend, and now exists in a nebulous in-between.

Are you sure it’s wise to place so much stock in them? Your trust has been misplaced before, don’t put it in the wrong place again.

Perhaps on another day, Kaveh might’ve nearly spit in Alhaitham’s face for questioning both his and your integrity. But there’s something bittersweet about standing in the doorway of this home with the knowledge that it might be his last time here as a resident. Quietly, he shuts the door rather than leaves, and asks, “It must look pathetic, doesn’t it?”

“Unbelievably so, but I figured you wouldn’t welcome such an observation.”

“But you still feel the need to make it.” Kaveh’s back thuds against the door as he leans on it, the last bag of his belongings falling to the tiled floor. “I’ve always done what I think is right. Even at the detriment to myself. So tell me, Alhaitham, what would you have me do?”

“That’s not for me to decide. You and I both know that our ways of thinking are very different.” Alhaitham could have been more roundabout in calling Kaveh an idiot, but the blond appreciates Alhaitham’s candor tonight, nonetheless. “I’m just saying, don’t be blinded by your feelings to the point of tripping into yet another difficult situation. I’m under no obligation to help you again.”

No obligation, but he probably would anyway.

“Well, I won’t haunt your humble doorstep again, in that case.”

Kaveh wouldn’t dream of asking outright, he’d simply be sitting at the breakfast table one morning with red-rimmed eyes and a despondency that Alhaitham would pointedly ignore. They’d fall into the usual routine, and Alhaitham would call back into the house to remind Kaveh of the rent that’s been overdue since the first month Kaveh moved in.

Yes, Kaveh knows his attachment is pathetic. But a lifetime of transient relationships from the most mundane scholar down to his own parents - one more permanent than the other - leaves him with an emptiness in his chest that he’s relished and nurtured up until the very moment you came along and filled it so easily.

Your home is empty when he returns to it later that night. If you’d been here and asked, he’d have told you the trust that he took the long way home to clear his head. And then you’d ask if he spoke with Alhaitham before leaving. Kaveh would say yes, and you’d ask no more questions because if anyone understood the weird, hot-and-cold friendship of antagonism he shares with the Scribe, it would be you.

But you aren’t home, and these questions aren’t exchanged, because he’d been adamant he finish bringing over the last few bits of his belongings while you were still out working. I don’t want to trouble you, Kaveh all but whined when you offered to call out of work for the day, for something that would only take an hour or so at most.

Though, his little detour cost him the majority of that hour, but it’s fine. You weren’t home, you don’t notice the pinched expression on his face as he places the last of his tools in the spare bedroom you offered him to use as his office space. Much more roomy than the corner Alhaitham had afforded him, with a spacious desk you let him pick out himself, because this was his space, in the home you now share.

If requested, he’d drop to his knees before the Dendro Archon herself and profess his love for you. Thoughts of grand exclamations of his affections danced through his mind between memorized ratios for concrete and recollected dimensions of a particular building he’s been commissioned to renovate.

None of those had come to fruition. One morning, when he stayed over at this very house, in the very bed across the hall, you’d rolled over and cracked your eyes open before murmuring your love for him at the time of day when honesty at its most raw. And he’d taken you into his arms all over again, clutching you to his chest and stubbornly refusing to let you go lest you see the tears welling in his eyes.

Kaveh doesn’t cry in front of you, nor anyone else. Bottling it up is just easier. Then he can unpack things later, and truly feel the crushing weight of everything when he’s the only one that will suffer the consequences. He’s the only one that deserves to suffer through them.

It had been a long time since someone claimed any sort of affection for him, platonic or otherwise. At least in any way that felt clear and true. Sure, his mother sends letters from Fontaine, and she closes them with an obligatory sentence about how she loves her son, tucked between sentences about her new husband and how she’s found happiness again.

Why couldn’t it have been in a place I could be, too? He wonders later at night, but then he feels you shift in his arms in the darkness of the room and doesn’t mind so much anymore. If he’d followed her to Fontaine, he never would’ve made friends with Tighnari, who never would have introduced him to you, who never would have allowed him to love with all he has.

Kaveh’s heart had to learn to beat in new ways, to accommodate the affection you provide him, and the room he’s been given to exercise such muscles.

One by one, he places tools on his desk and aligns them carefully according to his muscle memory. In the midst of a bout of inspiration, little time can be wasted on lifting his eyes to find the right pencil, the right scale, the right template. It’s in the midst of a focus similar to that he doesn’t hear the front door open, or quiet steps down the short hallway.

But the corner of his eyes catch you standing in the doorway, watching him quietly with an unreadable expression. When Kaveh gives you his full attention, your mouth blooms into a familiar smile as you step into the room. “Everything go okay? Sorry I couldn’t be around to help.”

“There wasn’t much to help with.” Kaveh waves a hand, swatting away your apologies that are unwarranted. “Besides, I don’t want to-”

“-be trouble, I know.” An exasperated look crosses your face, just for a second. Kaveh’s heart clenches - he’s not fond of seeing anything on your face that isn’t happiness. He’s yet to reach the end of your patience, but everyone has a limit. It takes only one single brick for a load bearing wall to crumble. Tonight especially, he’s come to realize that the structure of his wellbeing has been carefully crafted around you as its foundation.

Kaveh is snapped out of his thoughts as you take his hand in your own. Like surfacing from a still pool of water he hadn’t realized he’d been drowning in, Kaveh takes a sharp breath and looks at you with a smooth mix of astonishment and gratitude. The exasperation is gone, and in its place is worry. “Are you alright? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Never.” Kaveh says a little too forcefully, a little too vehement. It’s not himself he needs to convince of his adamancy for this being a good decision; he could never regret sharing a home with you and building it further. It’s you, who is suddenly looking concerned. Kaveh takes your other hand as well, his fingers lacing with yours until they’re pressed palm-to-palm. “Just silly thoughts in my head that have been plaguing me all day. Nothing for you to worry about, dear, I just need to shake them off.”

“If you’re sure…” You’re not convinced. But you don’t push, and he won’t reveal a thing until he’s ready. He only hopes that his hand won’t be forced in the form of begging you to put up with him a little longer rather than cast him to the side. Swallowing hard, he pushes those thoughts away with vicious force. You’re not leaving him, he’s done nothing wrong, the two of you are in love-

Again, he’s drawn from his head by your fingers squeezing his own comfortingly. “Then, I’ll believe you. I’m gonna make dinner, anything you want in particular? Sounds like you’ve had a hard day.”

“I’m fine with whatever’s easy for you. I’m going to be in here a little longer getting things set up, if you don’t need help.”

A shrug, a quiet agreement, and your lips pressed to his cheek saying more words than you’ve let free verbally. All he needs to do is call your name, and you’d turn right back around and listen to what’s laying heavily on his mind. But how does it go about telling you that what sits on his shoulders with the most weight is the prospect of you growing tired of him, of you realizing that there might be another out there that offers more for you than he could ever hope to?

So, Kaveh lets you go and turns back to his drafting table. Muscle memory or not, he’s realized he’s placed his tools in the wrong order anyway.

---

Kaveh expected things to feel different.

He’s not disappointed - no, he’s actually rather happy about it all. Living with you had been something he fretted over for months before you were the one to bring it up. To be in your presence constantly was a gift for him, and you expressed the same sentiment, but there’s always a part of him gnawing away at his resolve.

Perhaps you’re just being nice, or you don’t feel the need to tell him outright that maybe he’s a little too loud at night while working on scale models. Maybe you don’t find it necessary to reveal your annoyances when Kaveh forgets to wash his coffee cup before leaving in the morning, or when he wakes up before you and rams his shin on the edge of the bed because he doesn’t want to turn any lights on to disturb you.

You’re disturbed anyway, but your smile is nothing but sweet and sympathetic as he stands on one leg and clutches his shin and tries to bite back his swears of both pain and frustration at himself. Honestly, it’s been weeks, he should be used to the layout even before moving in, when he stayed here often enough that it seemed the natural next step.

When he brings up his apologies for all those made-up grievances - his loud tendencies, his infrequent scatterbrained memory in times of hurry, the growing bruise on his shin - you’re purely confused at it all.

“I’m sorry for being so loud the other night.”

“Were you loud? Ah, Alhaitham mentioned something like that. He gave me these little squishy things to put in my ears so I can still sleep, see?”

And that’s one worry that slips away from him with only a few words from you. You’d never been upset in the first place.

“I’ll try to remember to do my dishes before I leave.”

“Oh, your cup? I make myself breakfast and have to do my own dishes anyway. It’s okay if you leave it, I’ll get it for you.”

He still feels a little guilty when he sets the mug next to the sink, and decides on a happy medium where he rinses it out at least. There, now they both can be satisfied with the outcome, he tells himself as he stomps down the doubt beginning to creep in once more.

As you sit with him in the bathroom after his incident with the side of the bed and his shin, you make him sit on the counter so you can observe the growing bruise. Your fingers poke and prod, and while he hisses in discomfort a few times, you’re satisfied that it at least isn’t broken in any way. “You’ll make a full recovery, my good patient.”

“So no amputations? Thank goodness, what a relief.” Kaveh’s head rolls back to really emphasize his appreciation for keeping all his limbs, and also to hide the way his cheeks flush pink and his nerves creep to the surface. You’re not normally awake at this hour, yet here you are kneeling in front of him as you return from the kitchen with an ice pack.

The chill of it pressing to his skin makes him inhale sharply, and your laughter fills the bathroom as you look far too mischievous for that to have been a mistake. “Guess you didn’t hear my warning. Whoops!”

Kaveh knows damn well you hadn’t said a word. Lost in thoughts or not, he’s got enough presence of mind to keep an iota of attention on you - Kaveh is always watching, always on the lookout for your moods, always worried that this next minor slip-up will be the one to make you realize it’s easier to disentangle yourself from him.

Almost everyone else does.

But things fall into a rhythm as he settles into the home you now share with him. Kaveh forgets his keys once, and the next time he finds a spare key tucked into the eaves of the house without a word of admonishment on your part. You come home late from work one evening and he’s made your favorite dinner and washed up the dishes.

And a new project is breaking ground and requiring him to be out later than usual, more often than not. By the time he gets home, you’re fast asleep, leftovers in the fridge for him if he’s hungry. Even if he isn’t, he eats them anyway, if only because you put the effort into thinking of him. Kaveh only hopes you hadn’t been waiting up for him.

Tentatively, he closes the bedroom door and leans on it. You’re curled around his pillow, your face buried in the fabric as you fell asleep while inhaling his scent. His heart clenches, panic creeping in at the thought of you going to bed alone and pining for him while he was miles away working.

Kaveh should have been here. He should have been firm that he wasn’t going to stay late at the site, so he could return home to his partner and ensure that they’re happy, and laughing, and not lonely in the slightest. Precedence should’ve been given to you, because you’ve always given it to him. He’s been unbelievably selfish and self-centered, and only realized it when it was just a little too-

“Kaveh…?” Your voice breaks through, mired with your leftover sleep as you break from a dream and look at him through cracked eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Everything, he wants to say, and it’s my fault.

The light catches on his jaw as he chews his cheek, and your eyes zero in from across the room. A nervous tick, something he does when he’s stalling for time and thinking of an answer that he thinks is going to be the most diplomatic. Yet he’s never needed to be that way with you, he’s supposed, and under your scrutiny he quietly cracks.

The bed dips under him as he disrobes and climbs beneath the sheets. Rather than push you out of his space meant for him to sleep in, he simply winds himself into the empty spaces left amongst your limbs until his chest is pressed to your back in a perfect curve. Nowhere ever feels as right as when he’s pressed against you. The only time his heart feels as if it’s beating at a proper tempo is when it’s perfectly matching yours.

And the thought of losing this, of having ruined things with thoughtless actions makes his lungs feel too shallow to pull in a full breath of air. They shudder with the effort, stinging just as much as his eyes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and hopes to every Archon listening that you don’t feel the dampness on your skin from his overwhelming feelings.

Kaveh flinches as your hand comes to rest on his forearm winding around your waist. The tips of your fingers trace along his skin, along silvery scars you’ve memorized from that accident so long ago that had been so detrimental to him mentally, rather than physically. Beneath the pads of your fingers, they’re less obtrusive, even after years of smoothing via the passage of time.

Biting his tongue, Kaveh holds his breath to avoid the quake of his body as it attempts to breathe in and then let it all out in a harsh sob. You don’t need this, you don’t need to know why he’s desolate, even if it’s because of you. Desperately, he wants to keep you close, to show that he can do better if you’ll only give him another chance, and another, and another…

“Kaveh, darling, why are you crying?” Your voice has more clarity now; you hadn’t gone back to sleep after he took you into his arms. Kaveh should’ve figured that, and he self-admonishes that it would be awfully difficult to remain asleep if your lover was clinging to you and wetting your skin with their tears.

How does he begin to tell you what he’s feeling? Of all the seminars and lectures he’d been to during his time in the Akademiya, a fair few of them began with a question for the audience. It’s as good a tactic as any, and he pulls away to wet his lips and grimace at the salt gathered there from his tears. Quietly, he poses the question, “Are you going to leave me?”

Anyone else would have responded with an outburst. A demand to explain what he’s talking about, how he’s come to that conclusion, why they’re being accused of that. But a quiet sigh leaves you as your fingers continue their trail along the skin of his arms. It’s not a denial, not at first, and his breath starts to pick up before you adeptly calm him with only a few words.

“I knew something was going on in that pretty head of yours.” You don’t turn to look at him, affording him a bit of privacy when you could’ve easily looked him in the eye and put him on the spot. Kaveh leans heavily against you, burying his face in your neck once more to take in whatever comfort he can glean from you before you let him down. It would only be your right, of course.

Your hand stops, instead wrapping around his wrist, to pull it from your body. When his hand is freed, you lace your fingers together and squeeze hard. The sharp sting makes him inhale, clears his thoughts for just a moment so he can fully listen as you say, “I’ll never leave you, Kaveh. But I need you to tell me what brought this one on.”

The wording is precise; this isn’t the first time. It can be attributed to a myriad of things, but they all can be boiled down to their base level of definition. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Says who? You?” It’s a bit biting, but that’s what he needs right now, he knows. Softness lets him slip away, lets him dig deep into his woes and wrap them tightly to the point of strangulation. Only a firm hand is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, to keep him listening to what you have to say. “Kaveh, there’s only one person who gets to decide who deserves me, and that’s me. And there’s no one else that I’d rather love than you. I’m not going to leave you, even if you want me to. You’re stuck with me.”

Stuck. As if you were the burden, not the one in this relationship that shoulders the majority of burdens. Kaveh lets out a quivering sigh, one that breezes across your skin amongst the wetness left there, chilling to the point of goosebumps. “I love you. I just feel like I don’t give you everything that you need, or deserve. The entire world is just out of my grasp.”

“I feel rather fulfilled without the whole world, thank you.” Sass seeps through, your fingers tightening around his own briefly before you shift back further against him. The gesture emphasizes your adamancy as you say rather plainly, “Excess is just that. I don’t need anything more than what you’re already giving me - your love, and companionship. Seeing you happy is all I want, Kaveh. Are you happy with me?”

“Unbelievably so, that’s why I’m terrified that you’re not. It would be so easy for you to just… cut loose and count your losses-”

“Easy for whom? Certainly not for me, because losing you would be something I’d never fully recover from.” The hand not holding his reaches up to tangle in his hair for a moment, fingers pushing hair behind his ear in a blind, clumsy movement that he leans into on instinct. Your voice is lower and even as you remind him of a simple fact that he often overlooks in his moments of weakness. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, the tightness of his jaw loosens so he can feel the ache of his teeth from the pressure. He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been wound until you deftly untangle him with so little effort. The tremble of his voice is unmistakable as a fresh wave of tears come, this time in relief. “I love you, too. So much that it hurts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably the same as me, which is ‘be a disaster’. We’re better together, Kaveh. There’s nothing you could do that would make me love you any less.”

A sharp whoosh of air leaves you as his arms suddenly wind tight, abandoning your hand in favor of simply clinging to you with all the strength he can muster.

Kaveh expected things to feel different. And they do, bit by bit. It’s a work in progress, a first draft, a proof of concept as the two of you build toward something safe and wonderful. In the morning, he’ll drink his coffee and hold your words close enough that the heat and pressure will burn them into the fibers of his beating heart, meant only for you.

#kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin #genshin kaveh #gn reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #pretty self-indulgent ngl #but you'll have a good time

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