#so needless to say work's been fucking weird AND busy
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#me the past few days:#“why am I so anxious and scatter brained? why are my sh habits coming back? I'm doing fine. My pain isnt even that bad rn.”#i thought at first i was dehydrated because I've been drinking less water but i realized today#im fucking exhausted#a storm ripped the roof off the hospital where I work last week#so needless to say work's been fucking weird AND busy#I've been churning out art like never before since figuring out AMM#I'm trying to get my life together and feeling a real drive and motivation to do that#I've never been so burnt out on things that I love before#i also realized I'm still mourning my grandmother#that was still less than a month ago and fuck it I'm sad#i need to rest but just dont know how rn#maybe I'll figure out after work#i hope i do
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Beneath the Ashes - Azriel x Reader
Beneath the Ashes - Azriel x Illyrian!Reader
Sneak Peek
Summary: Azriel finally finds the girl he’s been looking for all these years—his mate. But unfortunately for him, his mate happens to be an Illyrian who, upset over the fact that he’s turned his back on his own people, wants nothing to do with him. (Enemies to lovers vibes, angst)
A/n: I feel bad that I haven’t had anything ready for you guys in a while so here’s a little sneak peek at a request I’m working atm
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Azriel was not happy, to say the least. Not as he landed on the cold, hard ground of one of the Illyrian war camps in the northern region of the mountains. He internally cursed at Cassian for still being on his mating honeymoon with Nesta because now he was being forced to do things Cass would normally be in charge of—primarily dealing with the Illyrians.
It wasn't a secret that Azriel hated Illyria and all its people. Hated that he came from such a barbaric, backwards culture. He knew Cass was trying to do all he could to break the traditions Illyrians held, but Azriel had always told him they were a lost cause. If he could never see these damn mountains again, he'd consider it a blessing.
But, evidently, that was not a blessing he'd be allowed—at least, not until Cassian returned. For now, he was the one who was being sent out on these missions by his High Lord.
Rhys had gotten word that some commotion was happening in the camp that had its people up in arms about something. He had asked Azriel to go check it out and who was he to turn down a request from his brother? So here he was. He was just hoping to get this over with soon.
He had tried sending his shadows ahead of time to collect intel, but they had been acting weird ever since they returned to him. They had swarmed him with their cryptic messages.
Beautiful.
Our master must see.
Permission to kill, master?
Needless to say, Azriel had no fucking idea what any of that meant. He had given them no such permission to kill, at least, not until he could see for himself what was transpiring here.
He was passing by the training rings, ignoring the stares of the brutes who were working out and sparring within them, when he heard several sets of loud voices. He quickened his pace, following the voices into the residential section of the camp until he finally beheld what was causing the commotion.
Three males were on the porch of one of the cabins, restraining a female Illyrian, who was thrashing around like a wildcat, screaming, "Let me go, you assholes!"
Another male Azriel recognized as the War Lord of the camp was standing on the steps leading up to the small cabin, arms crossed and a sneer on his face. A male next to him was holding a blubbering Illyrian toddler, whose arms were outstretched towards the female with tears pouring down her chubby cheeks.
None of them had noticed him yet which Azriel used to his advantage. His shadows were already wailing when he let them loose. They spiral towards the group, swirling around the males holding the female and yanking them away from her. All of their heads snapped in Azriel's direction except for the female. She tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled to get up and rushed towards the male next to the War Lord, not even sparing a glance at what had caused the males to unleash her.
She went to grab the little girl from the male holding her but was quickly held back by the War Lord with a growl. The War Lord twisted her arms behind her back, holding her in place, but his glare was firmly set on Azriel.
Azriel's face displayed no emotions as he stalked forward, his hand ghosting over Truth-Teller.
"Shadowsinger," the War Lord bit out in greeting. The other males quickly got to their feet and stood at attention.
"Silas," Azriel said, not bothering to address him properly which made the male bristle, "Care to explain what is happening here?"
"None of your business, Shadowsinger," Silas hissed. "I have it under control."
"Doesn't seem like it," Azriel replied, coolly.
The female was still trying to break out of Silas's grip, cursing under her breath. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to hiss in pain as he twisted her wrists in his hands. Azriel's shadows seemed to hiss in response, poised to attack as soon as Azriel gave them permission.
Azriel's gaze fell on the female, noting the frustrated tears in her eyes. It seemed like there had been a scuffle. Her hair was half falling out of her braid, she had scrape marks on one of her cheeks, and a bruise was beginning to form on her jaw. One of her wings was flared out proudly while the other drooped to the floor at a weird angle. His fists clenched at the sight and when she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the breath was completely knocked out of his lungs.
Despite her tattered appearance, she was single-handedly the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He stood frozen for a moment, taken aback before he shook himself out of the spell she seemed to cast on him, realizing how inappropriate of a time it was to be ogling her.
"Let her go, Silas," Azriel commanded in a dark voice.
"I don't take orders from you," Silas spat out. "Besides, this female has been breaking the law for months now. We're taking her into custody."
"Fuck you," the female barked out, stomping on Silas's foot. The male cursed and went to strike her on the back of her head but Azriel's shadow caught his wrist in their grasp before he could.
"I said," Azriel growled, lowly, causing the males to shift in place, "Let her go."
"Fine," Silas sneered, though a tiny bit of fear flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed her to the ground in front of him. She was quick to spring back to her feet and rush towards the toddler who was still screeching. The male could hardly keep hold of the little girl.
"Let the babe go, too," Azriel snapped. The male scoffed but set the little girl down. She immediately ran to the female who bent down with her arms wide open, catching the little girl and standing with her firmly on her hip. The little girl's cries quieted down and she buried her small face in the female's neck.
"Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Azriel snarled, taking another step closer. Half the males mirrored his step back and he fought the urge to chuckle.
"Like I said," Silas snapped, "This female has been breaking the law—”
“What law?” Azriel asked, firmly.
“Females are not permitted to live alone nor own houses,” Silas barked out. “She has ignored our warnings—”
“My father left the cabin to me in his will!” The female shouted, causing the small toddler in her arms to whimper. She stroked the girl's hair, shushing her. “It belongs to me.”
“I don’t care what your father promised you,” Silas growled. “It is against the law for you to be living here alone. You must surrender the cabin and go live in the barracks with the other unwed females of marrying age. Your sister will be placed under the care of the matron.”
“Like hell I’m leaving her under the care of that female! You’re just going to have her wings clipped and force her to do grueling chores all day! She stays with me!”
“You are out of line! I knew your father wasn’t raising the two of you right. Ever since your mother passed away—”
“Don’t you dare say another word about my parents!”
The War Lord lunged towards the female with a growl but Azriel shadowed between them, unsheathing Truth-Teller and pressing it against the male’s throat.
“Lay a hand on her and I’ll gut you right here in front of all of your brutes,” Azriel snarled.
Silas stepped back with a scoff. “You want to stick your nose in our business? Fine, then she’s your problem. I expect her out of this house by the end of today, Shadowsinger, or there will be worse consequences.”
He stormed away, his entourage trailing behind him while sending glares to the female. Azriel waited until they were out of view before he turned to look at the female but she was gone from next to him, already walking up the steps to the cabin with the babe—her sister—on her hip.
Azriel went to follow her but she stormed into the cabin and slammed the door in his face before he could so much as utter a single word. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he knocked on the door. When Rhys had mentioned a problem happening in this camp, he hadn't expected to deal with something like this. It would’ve been much easier if it had been a problem he could solve with his fists.
When she didn't answer, he knocked harder—nearly causing the door to shutter.
It flung open a second later, a seething female behind it. "I already told those assholes I'm not leaving. If you're here to tell me to pack up and move, you can kiss my ass."
Azriel had to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smirk at her words. He wasn't used to dealing with female Illyrians that had attitudes. Most of them kept their heads down and stayed quiet. His mother had been like that....
"I'm not here to tell you that," Azriel answered. "May I come inside?"
She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms and staring him down. He found himself even more amused at how she was trying to intimidate him. Most fae avoided him and his gaze. But a female, whose head barely reached his shoulders, seemed to be completely unfazed by him.
"No, you may not," she snapped. "Anything you need to say to me can be said perfectly fine from where you're standing."
“Can I at least bring a healer to come check out your injuries?” He eyed the scrapes on her face, the bruise and her drooping wing. Azriel’s chest ached at the sight and anger pulsed under his skin. He wanted to turn around and go rip those males apart limb by limb for laying a hand on her.
“I don’t need your help, shadowsinger,” she spat out.
"Fine," Azriel sighed. "I was sent by the High Lord because there's been reports of someone here causing disarray. I'm going to assume that someone is you."
She shrugged, nonchalantly, her eyes flickering between his own and the shadows swirling around him that wouldn't shut up about how beautiful she was, how brave....They were singing her praise. It confused him. His shadows had never acted like this before.
When she failed to answer, Azriel cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Will you answer my question?”
“Aren’t you the spymaster?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be able to gather intel yourself and not rely on a lowly Illyrian female?”
“A lowly Illyrian female?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at her crass words towards herself.
“Isn’t that how you and all the High Lord’s dogs view us?” Her tone was biting, her eyes filled with hate.
Azriel shifted, at a loss for words. He was used to being met with hostility by the Illyrians, but never usually from the females themselves. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
It was a lousy response, but he truly had no idea what to say. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him and moved from the doorway, grasping the door.
“Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t care enough to do so,” she snapped. “Now, if that is all, you can kindly escort yourself off my property, shadowsinger. Thank you.”
The door slammed in his face a second later
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar
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Can you do a Bangchan x reader smut/fluff? Also, keep up the great work!
𝒾'𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 🥺 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 @linosssss ♡
𝐭𝐰: 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) ; 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!) ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ;
𝐰𝐜: 3,7𝐤
-> 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.
🏡
The house is full of boxes.
Not just the house. Your house. The house you and Chan have just moved into. Literally just - considering you carried the last carton box inside your new apartment half an hour ago with the help of Chan’ friends. Your house - your dream has finally become true, and from now on you and Chan will be living together. Crazy.
Your eyes take in the small, yet welcoming living room, and a big smile spreads on your face. You can’t wait for the furniture to be here - which should be tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. However right now, as you’re sitting on the hard, cold floor with your back leaning against the wall with Chan by your side and an empty carton of pizza on his legs, you can’t bring yourself to complain about not having a couch to lie down on. Or a table. Or a bed frame. You have everything you need by your side anyway - him.
“Whatcha thinkin’ of, love?” Chan’ voice interrupts your thoughts.
You turn to look at him, and find him already smiling at you - cute dimples and everything. How is it even possible, to be so in love with a person?
“Just how much I love you,” you shrug, turning your face to look at him. “And how happy I am that we’re here, in our house,” you can’t help but smile widely at him. “It feels weird to say, our house,” you giggle.
“Good weird, I hope,” Chan teases, leaning in to brush your nose with his. He knows you’re as excited and happy as he is, you’ve both been dreaming it for a long time and now that it’s finally true you almost can’t believe it, it’s a happiness neither of you ever felt before.
With you being busy with college and Chan always being snowed under work, there was never a good time to move in together - not to mention that neither of you made enough money to afford living alone. So you would live with your roommates and split rent, and he’d do the same, and you’d only see each other during the weekends - needless to say, the intimacy was pretty much nonexistent. But now everything’s different, and from now on you’ll have a whole place by yourself and you’ll be free to do whatever you want, so yeah, it’s definitely a “good” weird.
“Of course it’s a good weird!”, you peck his lips, still a bit salty from the pizza he ate. “Gosh, I’m so happy…” you repeat for the millionth time today.
“I am, too, love,” he bites his lip. “Like, we finally have our own place, it’s crazy!”, he places a kiss on your naked shoulder.
It’s spring, your anniversary is approaching. This year will be your fourth.
Four years sound like a big deal. Part of you is scared of what adult life holds for you: responsibilities, bills to pay, changes to face, ageing - another part of you, though, can’t wait to face it all with Chan by your side, the man you want to be with for the rest of your life. It sounds crazy, to think you’ve found the love of your life at such a young age, but you also know it’s one hundred percent the truth. He’s incredible, everything you ever wished for in a partner and so much more: smart, kind, in touch with his emotion in a healthy way, mature, and last but not least - he’s fucking great in bed. Like - fucking great. He’s a dream.
Now that you’re thinking about it, having a whole place by yourselves also means that you’ll finally be able to have sex whenever you want without worrying about your or his roommates catching you or interrupting you while you’re at it - like that time his dear friend Jisung bursted inside Chan’ bedroom while he was giving it to you from behind real good. And from now on you won’t have to worry about keeping quiet anymore, nor to lock your bedroom door. You could have sex in the kitchen in broad daylight if you wanted to.
“Mh-hm, we have our own place, which means…”, you take the pizza box from his lap and place it on the floor. Then, you straddle him, and his arms immediately find their way around your waist, pulling you even closer so that you’re now sitting on his crotch.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”, he whispers on your lips, drawing imaginary shapes over your clothes with his thumbs. Under your body, you can feel his cock beginning to stir inside his sweats.
“That depends…” you place the palms of your hands on his chest, then latch your mouth on the skin of his neck. He sucks in a breath, and you feel his Adam apple bobble. By now, his cock is fully hard in his underwear, pressing right on your clothed cunt, creating the perfect friction against your clit, and he grips your hips, keeping you in place. “If you’re thinking of your naked body on top of mine… then yes,” you breathe out, slowly grinding on the bulge in his sweats as you continue to suck on his neck.
“Oh, I’m totally thinking of you, naked, under me…” Chan breathes heavily, one of his hands moving from your hips to grope one of your boobs. He squeezes his eyes shut, when you let your hand roam down his body - down, down, down, until it reaches the tent in his sweats. He sucks in a breath when you palm him over the fabric, and he squeezes your ass. “You- shit,” he curses under his breath when you grind on his erection, “you want that?”
You keep leaving kiss on his neck, running your tongue all over his soft skin, leaving open mouthed kisses as your hand is pressed against his chest. “You’re seriously asking if I want to have sex with you after I’ve been grinding on your dick for the past five minutes?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him and he chuckles, pulling you closer, and it’s his turn now to latch his mouth to your neck, and you gasp.
“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page,” he breathes against your skin, then pulls you even closer, and you both moan at the friction his action causes.
“Oh, we so are,” you kick your head slightly back when he sucks on that sensitive spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. His other hand, in the mean time, finds its way on one of your breasts. He chuckles when you let out a squeak.
“Our first night in our home…” Chan mumbles while still leaving kisses on your neck, and you arch your back. “We should really do something about it, shouldn’t we?”
“Mh-hm,” you hum in agreement, “You know what else you should do something about?” you wrap your fingers around his wrist.
“What?” he places a kiss on your clavicle, right below the crook of you neck as he breathes in your familiar scent.
You drag his hand all over your body, then allow his fingers to slip under the waistband of your sweats and your underwear, brushing your mound. He smiles and bites his lip as his fingers move to brush your entrance, but sucks in a breath once he feels how wet you are - panties completely soaked. “This.”
“Fucking hell,” he swears under his breath. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet? Fuck,” his eyes flutter shut as his fingers, damp with your arousal, circle your clit. You moan in response and let go of his wrist - he knows what to do. “You drive me fucking crazy, fuck. Sitting on my cock, acting all cute and stuff while you’re soaking your panties,” he mumbles, more to himself actually.
Chan is good with his fingers.
The first time he fingered you, you ended up cumming all over his digits only a couple of minutes later - and he hadn’t even touched your clit. He’s the one who introduced you to the wonders of the orgasm from penetration, making you cum and literally see stars just from rubbing your g-spot for seconds - which your ex never ever found in the first place, then around his dick.
“Don’t make fun of me!” you pout, but are immediately cut off by two of Chan’ digits entering you, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers filling you up. “Oh.”
“What’s that, hm? Cat got your tongue?” Chan teases you as he gives a slow pump of his fingers inside of you, hissing at the way your arousal coats them completely. He likes to act all cocky and stuff, but the both of you know that, the second he’s inside you, he’ll lose his mind.
“Ass-“ you’re cut off by his fingers lifting your tank top, revealing your chest. Asshole,” you chuckle. “You know the effect your fingers have on me.”
“Just my fingers?”, he chuckles, before his lips close around one of your nipples. “What about my cock?”
He presses the pad of his thumb on your clit. You whimper, shaking your head. “All of you. All of you drives me crazy - the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way your eyes stare into mine when you make love to me- fuck.”
You hiss the last word when Chan bites your exposed shoulder and grunts. He keeps moving his fingers inside of you, at a much quicker pace, determined to make you cum, and it’s working, because you’re already so close. The pad of his thumb is brushing your clit with every slight movement of his fingers inside of you, and he smirks when he hears you let out a shaky breath - he knows your body well, maybe even better than you do.
“Chan, I-“ you pant against his skin, one hand desperately gripping his tank top as your legs start to shake.
“I know, love. You can let go, I’m right here,” he whispers in your ear, “I’m gonna take care of you.”
Not just now, he’s always gonna take care of you.
You release around his fingers with a muffled sob, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as a couple of swear words leave your mouth. Your orgasm washes all over you and Chan helps you ride it out, stopping the movements of his fingers inside of you only when he knows you can’t take it anymore - meanwhile, he presses soft kisses on your bare shoulder as you come down your high.
“Are you alright, love?” He asks you after he’s made sure your heartbeat has finally slowed down to a much more regular pace. You hum a faint “yes”, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, wet with your sweet release.
He puts them near his mouth and you know what he’s about to do. He wraps his plump lips around his own fingers and swirls his tongue all over his digits, determined to lick them clean. He hums as soon as his tastebuds recognize your taste. “Always taste so sweet, love. Here,” he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and taps your lips with his pads.
His digit taste of your release and Chan’s saliva mixed up. You hum too, and he watches you closely with full-blown pupils and parted lips how you suck on his fingers, which were previously in his mouth and, before that, deep inside your pussy. Chan loves it when you’re filthy, but tonight he’s in a whole other mood - it’s your first day in your new home after all, he wants it to be special.
It’s gonna be nothing but sweet lovemaking tonight.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” Chan asks you, sucking a bright pink mark on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.
To call it a bedroom would be a euphemism, considering there’s just your mattress inside the room, together with three of four boxes. Just your mattress. Placed on the ground, in the center of the empty room. The furniture is being delivered tomorrow, so tonight you’ll be sleeping like this, although your sixth sense is telling you that perhaps you won’t be sleeping at all tonight. The mattress looks funny with the sheets messily wedged in under it, but neither you nor Chan seem to care about the sheets right now, not with how eager the both of you are.
Lying on a mattress that’s lying on the floor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’ll work for tonight. Chan’s hands are immediately all over you, his lips on yours within seconds as soon as you both lie down on the bed, lips on your neck as his body is pressed on top of yours, your legs wrapped around his as his hard-on brushes your clothed cunt.
“Chan…” you whine, the friction between your legs becoming unbearable - you need to feel him without any layer between your bodies. “Take these off,” you huff, tugging at his sweats.
He kneels between your legs, and you quickly sit on the mattress to take off your tank top. Chan gasps at the sight of your naked boobs, even though he’s seen them many, many times. His tank top comes off, then his sweats and boxers are next. The second your gaze falls on his hard cock, all you want to do is wrap your lips around its tip, then take the rest of his length in your mouth and milk him dry - his balls look so full, and you want nothing more than to taste him. That may be a lie, though, because you also want him to cum inside of you… you just can’t chose with him.
“Take off yours now, love? Show me that pretty pussy?”
You slide your own sweats down the curve of your ass too, together with your damp underwear, and Chan bites his lips at the sight of the wet patch on your panties, even though it shouldn’t surprise him, since he was the one who made you cum before.
“How do you want me?” You whisper to him, and he swears he felt a shiver run down his spine - you’re just so hot, and he loves you so much.
“Just like this, fuck, you’re so hot,“ Chan grunts as his eyes take in your naked figure sprawled in front of him, legs open wide to welcome his body between them. “Want to look at your pretty face when I make love to you, want to see your eyes roll in the back of your head when I stick my cock in you,” he grunts.
It’s true, you do it every time - it’s hard not to, when the cock’s this good.
“What are you waiting for, then? Put it in,” you smirk, biting your lip.
Chan pumps his cock with his fist for a couple of seconds, smearing pre-cum all over his tip to make sure it doesn’t sting when he enters you, although you’re wet enough to take him. His veiny hand looks insanely good wrapped around himself, pumping his length with a familiarity and a confidence only he can have with his body. You don’t miss the way his balls tighten, looking heavy and full, and you’re ready to take all he has to give you. You want him to empty his load inside of you - mouth or pussy, you don’t really care. His cock looks harder than before, tip pink and angry, the vein that runs along the underside thick and pulsating.
You gasp when he gets closer and aligns his cockhead at your entrance, brushing your swollen clit in the process. “You ready?” He asks you, and after you nod, he pushes inside.
Just like he predicted, you roll your eyes in the back of your skill at the feeling of his cock finally stretching you out. He sinks inside of you at an incredibly slow pace that makes you shiver and gasp. “Fuck,” you moan. He intertwines his fingers with yours as he continues pushing inside. It feels big, hot and hard inside of you. “’s big,” you whine out of pleasure.
Chan’s cock throbs inside of you as he pushes another inch inside. “Yeah?” Then chuckles when you nod. “You’re taking it so well, tho, love. Just a couple inches left, you’re doing so good,” he whimpers.
When he finally bottoms out, you feel so full it almost hurts - every single one of the inches of his beautiful cock sheathed inside of you. Chan lets his body fall on top of yours, pressing his bare torso on your chest and placing his strong hands at each side of your head while he balances his weight on his elbows. “You alright?” He asks, kissing you on the corner of your lips.
“Feel so full,” you gasp, and he smirks, pecking your lips.
“Does it feel good?” He asks you, brushing your soft hair with his fingers. “Because you feel amazing around me, love,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly.
“So good, baby. So, so good,” you whimper, “You can move now.”
You don’t know how he does that, but Chan always manages to find the perfect angle when it comes to thrusting inside of you. He starts by pulling almost all the way out, arching his back a little and then sinking back inside of you. It’s his turn to roll his eyes in the back of his head now, when he feels your tight walls welcoming him, pulsating around his thick length. It’s a slow thrust - the first one. A thrust that allows him to test the waters, a thrust that makes the both of you shiver.
You arch your back and pelvis, allowing him to sink even deeper inside of you.
“My God, love, you feel so good around me,” Chan grunts, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, then repeats his previous movements with his hips once again. “So warm, so tight…”
His hips meet yours once more, and a shaky breath leaves your lips - the way he’s moving inside of you combined with the hot, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the skin of your neck are making you feel dizzy already. You wrap your arms around Chan’s torso, scratching his naked back with your fingernails - you hear him whimper and you bite your lips at his reaction, because you know just what to do to drive him crazy.
“Wrap your legs around me, love,” Chan moans and you oblige, entangling your legs with his, pulling him closer than he already is until it feels like you’re melting at each other’s touch.
His thrusts are slow, not rushed, reaching that deep spot inside of you that makes your toes curl and scratch his back a bit harder. His kisses burn on your skin, his swollen lips feel hot when he presses them on yours to muffle the sounds that escape his own lips - it’s the force of habit. For years the both of you had had to keep quiet in bed in order not to get caught by Chan’s or your roommates - now, though, you can be as loud and whiny as you want. That’s why you pull away from the kiss, then cup his face with your hands. He doesn’t stop moving inside of you.
“I want to hear those pretty sounds you make,” you whisper on his lips.
Chan is whiny. The softest whimpers fall from his lips as he moves inside of you, rocking his hips back and forth to meet your thrusts. It’s almost addicting, the way he sounds when he’s fucking you. He also grunts and groans, but it’s the soft cries he lets out every time he bottoms out inside of you that are your favorites, especially when he looks at you with those eyes. His chocolate brown eyes are fully blown, cheeks flustered and brows slightly furrowed as the pace of his thrusts increases. He’s getting close, and you are too.
“Touch yourself, love,” Chan whispers on your lips, “‘M not gonna last much longer. Wanna cum together.”
You delicately push two digits in Chan’s mouth, and he sucks and licks them to get them wet enough - when you take them out, there’s a string of saliva that connects them to his lips, and it’s the hottest thing ever. You whine when your own fingers brush your clit, wet with Chan’s spit. Rubbing fast circles on your sensitive bud, you manage to get yourself off right before he finds his own release.
“Look at me,” Chan whimpers, “Look at me when you cum, fuck.”
You do exactly that, and when he feels you clenching around him, he finds his own release much quicker than he thought he would. Chan looks beautiful when he cums. Eyes rolled in the back of his skull, swollen lips parted as he releases the sweetest sounds, Adam’s apple bobbing as he shoots his load inside of you.
“Fuck, love, there’s so much cum. ‘M cumming so much, fuck,” he curses under his breath as he keeps on releasing and releasing, filling you up to the brim until it starts to spill out of you, wetting the sheets.
You place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he crashes his lips onto yours as he continues to ride out his orgasm as you play with his soft curls. Eventually, with a sigh, his body collapses on top of yours and he hides his face in your cleavage, chest rising and falling quickly.
“Chan, baby,” you call his name after a while, “Can you hand me a towel?”
He nods, but as he kneels between your legs he realizes something. “Shit, they’re still inside the boxes, love.”
You smile at him. “It’s fine. It just means we’ll have our first shower in our new home.”
Chan smiles at you too. When you sit on the mattress, the action causes his seed to eventually drip from your hole, and when you look down, you find out the sheets are completely drenched in Chan’s cum.
“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, guilty, “maybe we should do our first laundry, too.”
🏡
-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.
#Bang Chan smut#chan smut#Chris bang smut#Bang Chan fic#bang chan x reader smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan hard thoughts#bang chan hard hours#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids masterlist#skz masterlist#stray kids#skz#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#bang chan x you smut#bang chan x you#bang chan#bang chan smut#chris bang smut#bang chan x y/n#bangchan smut#bangchan#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fic#stray kids drabbles
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Side note: I’m not back from my hiatus, I’m just giving you guys a treat to make the long waits a little bit better!
Chapter 7 - Something’s wrong with the puppy.
Summary: Eijirou comes into the coffee shop looking like the ghost of himself. Needless to say, you make sure he feels better as soon as possible.
Warnings: Swear words, reader has a few, tiny bit inappropriate thoughts here and there, sharing a bath (in underwear! Nothing cheeky!) a little bit angsty on Kirishima’s side, bless his broken little soul.
First Chapter Master List
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“Who made you frown like that, puppy dog?”
Eijirou is here for his usual morning beverage but he looks absolutely… done. He also looks like he just finished a shift instead of starting one but you decide not to comment on that for now; his mental health is much more important than the fact that he has soot all over his face and probably scares the customers with his disheveled look. His bright red hair is muted into a weird, dark grayish-crimson color and there are cracks in the metal parts of his costume.
It has been two weeks since your first kiss but Eijirou haven’t kissed you since. His work was hectic, your date on that Friday got canceled and you’ve only seen each other here, in the coffee shop and even that was only for a few minutes instead the usual half an hour. You miss him so much. “Why are so dirty, hun’?”
“I don’t want to go back. Too much. Tired. Don’t wanna talk to anyone.”
Yet here he is, in a busy coffee shop, just so he can see you. Fucking hell, you love him so much.
“Come.” You point towards the staff room at the back. Thankfully, the boss is here to support you today and she’s nice enough to not comment on the fact that you are supposed to serve customers and not to give mental support to your broken boyfriend. You make eye contact with her and she only rolls her eyes.
“Go home.” She mouths silently and you don’t need to be asked twice.
“Actually, change of plans, follow me.”
Eijirou doesn’t say a word through the whole journey home. You call a taxi and tell the guy your address; you don’t want anyone to see him like that and you are quite sure he wouldn’t want that either if he would be in the right state of mind.
You open your door but Ei doesn’t move so you pull him in with you and make your way towards the bathroom with him. He still haven’t said a single word since you’ve left the coffee shop but that’s okay. You start the water in the bath and pour your favorite lavender scented bubble bath into it; the water becomes purple with silver glitters swirling around happily, the scent calming you right away and you can only hope it does the same for your mopey companion.
“I’ll take your… this thing off. Is that okay?” You point at the two metal accessories on his torso and he only nods at that. You hate seeing him like this. Eijirou should always smile. He’s beautiful when he’s happy.
It takes you a few seconds to understand how those things work but after a while you find two clips on the back; you catch the gauntlets when they are about to fall down and you almost pull a muscle; they are so heavy you can’t believe he’s working in these every day. You wouldn’t be able to lift them if you wouldn’t have gone through your uncle’s training when you were a teen.
“Let’s clean you up a little bit before you sit in, okay?” You take a cloth from the cupboard and wet it, slowly stroking the hero’s upper body to rid him of the black soot. He doesn’t say anything but his frown deepens, like he’s ashamed of being in this state, which honestly, it’s quite understandable. As the soot disappears you find quite a lot of scars, they aren’t bleeding anymore but they definitely sting but he doesn’t even flinch when you touch them with the wet towel. You decide to leave then untreated for now and do that after the bath when hopefully, Eijirou will have more mental energy to actually communicate. They are really small compared to the usual hero injuries but for a normal person, these would be enough to end up in a hospital for at least a day. This is one of the things that makes you mad about the hero world… how they are treated differently even though they are just humans, like everyone else. All these old scars on his body wouldn’t be there if they would have been treated properly, but they weren’t; because it’s just a “scratch”, too small for the medic team to care about in the chaos but injuries like that still leave a scar afterwards but apparently that doesn’t matter because heroes aren’t supposed to be pretty, they are nothing but a living-breathing weapon, even in this day and age. It got a little bit better since pro hero Deku and his gang took over the top charts but there’s still a long way to go before the heroes can get the right treatment.
Eijirou’s muscles bounce under your hands, the skin alternating between soft and rough, depending on the area; for instance, the area where his gauntlets is full of callouses, angry and red, probably from the constant friction. You drop the wet towel into the sink to trace them with your fingers, but Eijirou catches your wrist after a few tentative strokes.
“Hurts.” He mumbles. “Ugly.”
It breaks your heart how he can’t even make a full sentence properly right now. He’s a shadow of himself, a dark blob in the well-lit bathroom.
“It’s not.” Is all you say and decide to approach the situation in a different way; you move into Eijirou’s space and start leaving tiny kisses around the area, slowly moving closer to the calluses and leaving feather light pecks all over the reddish area. “It’s beautiful because it’s you.”
Eijirou doesn’t even try to hide the tears in his eyes. He starts to sob loudly, pulling you closer by your waist as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, body flush against yours. Your heart thrashes in your chest and you are quite sure he can feel the heavy bangs against his chest but instead of feeling ashamed you just feel… happy. Happy to be able to show him how much he means to you in ways he knows you can’t fake. “I really like you, Eijirou.”
“I love you. So much.” His hand grips your hair at your nape and you almost moan from the sudden pleasure. Your scalp was always really sensitive so you hated when people ruffled your hair in a friendly gesture but this… this is perfect. It’s more than perfect when it’s Eijirou who’s doing it.
“Let me take care of you, Ei.” He doesn’t say anything to that just lets you pull him towards the bath full of bubbles. “Can I get rid of your trousers? Underwear can stay.” He nods again and you get to work, trying not to think about about how suggestive this whole situation is. It’s not the right time for that. You already made the situation weird by enjoying the hair pulling a bit too much so it’s time for you take a deep breath and take your mind out of the gutter. He needs you.
Eijirou plops into the bath like a good boy after that but doesn’t do anything else; he just sits there with an empty gaze, staring at the shower gel bottle in the corner as though he’s having a silent conversation with it. And maybe he does. Who knows.
He doesn’t let your hand go, he holds it tight even as his body slowly relaxes; by the look of it, he won’t do anything for the next few minutes so you try to reach the shampoo bottle on the other end but Eijirou suddenly pulls your hand and you end up falling into the bath tub, your head thankfully landing on his chest and not somewhere dangerous. You look at your wet clothing and sigh, a tiny hint of a smile hiding in the corner of your mouth.
“Ei. If you wanted me to join you you should’ve just said so.” You giggle as you try to rid yourself from the disgustingly wet shirt and your trousers, probably hitting the poor guy with your elbows quite a few times but he doesn’t comment on it. You end up in your panties and your bra which is basically the same as wearing a swimsuit even though the padded bra feels really uncomfortable on your skin but there is no fucking way you’ll take that off right now for obvious reasons.
You really need to tell yourself AGAIN that this is NOT a romantic situation. Don’t think about what are you sitting on right now. Do not.
You wait a few seconds to give him time to answer but it doesn’t seem like he will so you finally take the shampoo in your hand and and give it to the redhead while you take the the shower head in your hand and start spraying his hair, straddling the guy’s hips while you do so. As the red gets brighter you can’t help but notice his roots; there is a tiny bit of black peeking out from his scalp, so tiny you wouldn’t even see it if you are not up close.
You are not surprised about it per se, you had a hunch his hair isn’t natural but it still baffles you a little bit.
“I can’t imagine you with black hair.” You mumble and the hero tenses under you. “Hey, it’s just hair. Don’t act like I just realized you are an alien.” You leave a tiny kiss on the top of his head to calm him down and thankfully, it works wonders; his body relaxes again, soft and pliant under your touch. “Mine is dyed too. I know, shocker.”
Eijirou looks up at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“And Uncle Riot?”
You can’t help but laugh loudly at that.
“Of course that’s your first question.” You mumble as you lather the shampoo into his hair. “His hair color is natural. He’s the only one in the family with that shade. Don’t ask, why, because we have no idea. My dad used to tease him about being adopted, they were terrible to each other. Typical brothers, really.”
“I don’t have any siblings.” Eijirou admits with a shy look on his pretty flushed face.
“Me neither. Thank god for that, I’m enough of a menace alone, we don’t need another one of me in the family.” You slowly wash the soap away, ready to put the conditioner on. He lets you do it in silence, he just closes his eyes and enjoys how your fingers scratch his scalp in the process. “You like this, Ei? Feeling better?” You scratch behind his ear like he’s a dog but by the look of it, Ei likes it so it doesn’t end up being as weird as you thought it would be.
“Uhum. I’m… I’m back. Kinda.” He admits sheepishly.
“Still okay with me being here with you? Do you want me to get out?” You ask, just in case; you don’t want him to be uncomfortable and you absolutely understand if he feels like it’s too much now.
“Can I wash your back?” Is the answer you get and your cheeks flush heavily from the words.
 You leave the conditioner on his head to do its thing and sit between his legs, ready to be washed. Now it’s really starting to sink in how… close you two are right now. It’s extremely intimate, way too intimate for two people who’s been dating for less than a month but somehow, it just feels… right. Perfect. Like it’s how it’s supposed to be.
Eijirou moves towards the shower gel, pumps the liquid into his hands and starts washing your back; his hands are so careful yet so deliberate, it almost feels like a massage and you can feel the goosebumps appearing on your skin from the pleasure. You sigh contentedly, feeling the urge to lay back on his chest and instead of pushing you back to your original position he lets you lean on him, his hands snaking around your waist to pull you close. His chin ends up on your shoulder then he takes a deep breath and finally, he starts talking.
“Katsuki and his fiancé are on a holiday. They went to see her family abroad so they’re not in town. Stupid fuckers realized the number two hero is away and started to do all kind of shit in our patrol area, hoping they can get away with it but needless to say, it’s all in vain but they don’t give up. It’s constant. They are easy jobs but… I’m tired. I haven’t slept for a week. Izuku and Shouto tries to help as much as they can but they have their own agency to run as well as helping ours and we are missing the two strongest heroes in our agency so… yeah.”
“You know it’s not your fault, right? You know you are strong enough, this is just way too much for a person fueled by coffee and energy drinks? You are just a human, Eijirou. Give yourself a break. I’m quite sure your friends can keep an eye on your agency for one day.” You interlace your fingers with his, squeezing the hand resting on your belly affectionately. “Stay with me today, Eijirou. Have a nap, then we can watch a movie in the afternoon and go to sleep early.”
“Is it a date?” Eijirou teases as he leaves a tiny kiss on the top of your head.
“It’s better than that. It’s our first day living together. It’s the practice round.”
“Stop teasing me.” Eijirou pouts and you can’t help but leave a tiny kiss in the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not. I promise.” You murmur as you turn back to him to continue cleaning him.
You could get used to this, it’s actually terrifying how normal it feels like to share a bath with this man you’ve only known for a few months. There’s no awkwardness the air and you don’t even feel shy for being almost naked, skin touching skin as you shimmy into him after the both of you are fresh and clean. It’s so easy to forget how young your relationship is as you cuddle in the hot bath tub, cheeks ruddy from the heat. He’s so beautiful with his wet hair framing his face, the locks soft and shiny for the conditioner.
You already see a future routine in front of you; sharing a coffee in the coffee shop in the morning then in the afternoon, cooking lunch, sharing a meal, enjoying each other’s company while lounging on the couch, cuddled close while a silly super hero movie with an unnecessary romantic plot plays in the background, having a bath together then sharing the bed and making love until it’s time to sleep. Maybe you two could train on your free days, spar until you both end up tangled on the mat, kissing the living shit out of the other. You could have dinners at your uncle’s house and just stare at your perfect fiancé fanboying over everything in the house like he’s not about to be a part of this family himself in a few months. Fuck, it would be perfect. So fucking perfect.
“Thank you, Y/N. For everything.” Eijirou mutters into your ear, pulling you close.
“There’s nothing to thank me for. You need to rest and I just want you all to myself for a day. It’s a win-win.”
“… Always teasing me…” he says and you leave it to him; maybe it’s the best if he thinks it’s all just a joke for now. Your true feelings might suffocate him. It’s too much too soon, but it’s the truth. You already have your whole life planned out with him as weird as it sounds.
You can’t wait for all your dreams to become reality one day; but today, you need to take a deep breath - so you just do exactly that.
You can wait forever for him if that’s what he needs. It doesn’t matter because he’s worth it.
~•🪨•~
“What do I need to say for you to stay with me?” Eijirou mutters with a red face, staring out from your bedroom window, tucked in into your sheets like a little kid at bedtime. You are definitely going overboard with your actions right now, but you can’t help but worry about this silly little sensitive man in front of you.
He really reminds you of your uncle sometimes. You were way too young to understand his constant battle with mental health when he was still a hero but once you were eighteen your uncle started to open up about his old struggles and he had the same look on his face when he told you his stories as the one on Eijirou’s face right now and it breaks your heart. You don’t want to see him like this but it’s the part of the job as cruel as it sounds and you need to respect that; just because you were able to be selfish and leave all that behind, that doesn’t mean it was the right choice and you know that. Of course, it’s amazing to live carefree but the amount of people you couldn’t save because you’ve left the field haunts you to this day and sometimes it makes you wonder if all the pain is actually worth it for the lives you could save.
You thought that love is something unachievable when you are in this line of work and seeing Eijirou’s mopey little face clearly tells you that it’s not an easy task to be successful in love and at your job at the same time, and not everyone would have the patience to take care of you in time of need but… maybe, it’s all about surrounding yourself with the right people. You also have a feeling that you would’ve met Eijirou anyway, even if you’d never work in your uncle’s coffee shop because you two are connected by fate and no one can change your mind about that.
“This is my flat, silly, I’m not going anywhere.” You give the redhead a fond smile, but apparently, that’s not what the said redhead wanted to hear because he shakes his head vigorously, his face even more red than before. He takes your hand in his tentatively, stroking your knuckles with his thumb as he mumbles something inaudible. He pulls your hand closer and that’s when it clicks; he wants you to stay with him… in the bed. While he naps. Your heart almost jumps out of your chest from the sudden happiness that washes over you.
“You just need to say please. But before you do, I must warn you I might kiss you for real. I’m at my limits, puppy dog.”
You are quite sure you are as red as him by now but you try to keep your cheeky smile on, hoping it’s dark enough in the room for him to not see how flustered you are. It’s just not on brand, you know. You are the one teasing, not the other way around! Damn, the tables have turned.
“I… I can take that risk any day.” He mutters back; you make a silly noise in your throat, a high pitched little yelp you hope he can’t hear as you slowly let him pull you into the bed, cuddling you right away as you lay down next to him.
Okay, the tables DEFINITELY have turned. “Is this too much? I feel like your heart is yelling at me to go away.” He sighs with his face hidden in your chest. “So aggressive.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper into his ear while your arm snakes around his middle to initiate an actual cuddle. “It beats like that every time you come through the coffee shop door. It has been doing that for a while.”
“Am I scary?”
… This guy is an actual idiot. Do you really need to spell it out?
“Ei, look at me.” Slowly, Eijirou moves his head from your chest and he looks so terrified, you can’t stop yourself anymore; you stroke his chin while you look into his eyes fondly, moving closer and closer, giving him enough time to move away, but he… doesn’t. Finally, your lips collide in a warm, chaste kiss, one that’s barely there but it’s just enough to make a point. “Do I look scared of you, silly?”
Suddenly, Eijirou pushes himself up to his elbows and stares into your eyes. He’s still close, much closer than you’ve even been to him, his breath fans your lips and you feel goosebumps going down your spine from the thrill of it.
“If I say you do, will you do that again?” For the first time today, he almost looks like himself again; his eyes are full of wonder, he bites his bottom lip to stop it from wobbling, he’s so fucking precious you want to put him in your pocket and keep him there for the hard days and for the good ones, just have him with you every day because fuck, you really do love this fucking himbo.
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
And he does.
But…
This is not what you were expecting.
Eijirou pecks your lips once, twice, then a third time, but then he moves to your cheeks and leaves tiny little kisses all over until he gets bored of the area and goes back to your lips, pecks them again, but even as you try to give him a proper kiss, he moves away and keeps peppering you with these small, almost friendly kisses and you are so fucking confused but also kinda excited for finally not being the one doing all the work.
You have no idea how to tell him you want… well.. more. You feel selfish for not appreciating this properly and you feel like this is not the time for you to speak up about if; maybe, this is what he needs now, just… love and affection but not in a suggestive way. You take a deep breath and try to do the same, just peppering kisses on his cheeks and lips, counting fucking sheep to calm yourself down before you devour the man on top of you. Small kisses. You can do this.
You gently change your positions to let Eijirou lay on the bed and rest. He makes a tiny yelp from the sudden change but he let’s you be in charge; you straddle his hips but you make sure you don’t touch in inappropriate places because while you would absolutely love to take this further, he’s clearly not in the mood for that yet. Maybe he’s the “no heavy making out” before marriage kinda guy. It would make a lot of sense to be fair, with the whole “proposal on the first date” thing he’d pulled.
You really need to sit down and talk, this is getting ridiculous. You haven’t even talked about being a couple properly. Obviously, you are not stupid, you know you are… well… something, maybe even more than just a couple at this point but it all happened so quickly it would be nice to know you two are on the same page about this.
You sweep this thought under the rug for a few more days; now you have a mission to finish, which is to make Eijirou happy enough to be able to take a proper nap. You leave tiny kisses on his cheeks, then one cheeky peck on his mouth, your thumb caressing his cheekbone soothingly as you keep kissing him, slow and careful until Eijirou looks like he’s ready to doze off; when the time is right, you lay down next to him, your fingers drawing circles into his naked chest until finally, his breathing evens out and he’s out like a light, a tiny smile ghosting his face as he sleeps peacefully, unconsciously cuddling into your side.
Needless to say, you can’t fall asleep. Your heart is thrashing in your chest, begging for attention, begging for that deep kiss you’ve been dreaming about for eternity.
“You’ll be the death of me, himbo.” You mumble silently as you close your eyes and pretend to sleep for the next couple of hours.
It’s fine. You have your whole life to take those steps forward. There is no need to rush this. Maybe, if you tell that to yourself a couple more times you’ll actually believe it.
… to be continued!
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Potato ramble:
- Thank you very much for your kind words under my last personal update. I’m sorry for not replying. I read them all and they made me really happy I’m just… well… having troubles communicating with anyone right now. Thank you very much for being so kind and patient with me, I hope this surprise chapter makes your day a bit better 💜
- Tell me what you think of this chapter! Tell me what you think will happen in the next! I might not respond but I’ll definitely enjoy reading your conspiracies! 💜
TL: @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy @selfindulgenthoe @fierysplash213 @woofwoofwolf @touyasprettydoll @confused-smol-fan @themultifandomgirl @dark-witch-bitch @lotusstarr
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#kirishima eijirou x y/n#kirishima x y/n#Kirishima x reader#kirishima eijirou x reader#kirishima eijirou x you#red riot x reader#red riot x you#red riot#eijirou x reader
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Kendall Roy’s Princess
Kendall Roy X Reader
Anonymous Request -
"Sam Saint Clair! Yes! Hello! Listen, I'll be quick and easy about this - Reader x Kendall Roy. That's it. Alright? Maybe she works at Waystar? Who knows. Create a lil power dynamic with it? Rags to riches? I don't know you do you like always! I know it's not completely morally right given it's the workplace but since when is Succession focused on morals?!"
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Of all the possible careers in the world, with literally every single possible line of work, there was one you never thought you'd step into - and that one was corporate...
Corporate.
Like ew honestly. The word might as well carry radiation, because every time you heard it in passing it was as if you were a victim in the Chernobyl disaster and old radioactive wounds had just been split open again to fill you with a pretty bad fear and dread. Like who the fuck wants to work in a cubicle? Be real for a second.
But nonetheless, here you were - Waystar Royco in the Big Apple, New York City. Some say it's the biggest apple of them all. You personally felt that honey crisp apples were bigger than the average apple, but, New York was just no ordinary apple - it was a city. And a big, busy city at that.
You really thought about that saying, "don't knock it 'til you try it!" and how based the person who ever came up with that was. There was something so sophisticated when you put on those black heels, that white buttoned up shirt and little slutty plaid (or gingham, whichever you prefer!) skirt. You've never seen the show Mad Men but imagined that was the vibe.
"I'm just a woman in the workplace", you'd recite to yourself as you dressed up in the morning, hyping your self-esteem UP. "Just a woman doing some serious business."
You also had no fucking idea as to what that 'business' was, and in all seriousness you weren't really sure what Waystar was all about. You would Google it at work, but something in your eye receptors or whatever blocked your brain from processing the information. Needless to say, you're a bimbo.
As you fixed your hair into a messy bun, but not too messy because that's not work appropriate, you reminisced on your little rags to riches story. You were just a girl who dropped out of theater school for reasons not important. Some say you were expelled but honestly tomayto tomahto. Everyone will always have their own opinions.
It wasn't all that hard, now that you were knee-deep into the company. It had first seemed overwhelming and intimidating, but honestly, it was really just running around and giving people papers, coffee, other mumbo jumbo like that. What you learned pretty quickly, was that if you walked fast and made it look like you had something on your mind, then no one would bother you because you looked busy. Your leg muscles went CRAZY so there was no need for some stair master bullshit.
You were just an ordinary assistant, mainly for the Logan Roy himself. There was a sense of importance and untouchability with every step your heels took in that fat building, you were literally Logan's number one bitch, (that's what he liked to call you in confidence!). And no one could tell you shit and that's that. You were basically hands off and free from any critique by your peers, even if you sucked donkey ass at your job.
Honestly the only reason he hired you because he liked how kinda oblivious (and a bit dumb) you were, since you never really pestered him with questions about what he was doing and you just do what you're told. "You're not annoying as fuck like my goddamned kids," he'd say. He thought you always stayed in your own lane because you were being respectful and minded your own business, but in actuality it was because you had no fucking clue what they were talking about the great majority of the time. If they weren't speaking in weird riddles and metaphors and similes, they were talking something about numbers. And math wasn't your forte. You literally just found out that "pi" actually meant 3.14 and wasn't actually slang for pumpkin/apple pie.
No one knew how you got the job or what qualifications you even had, but it didn't matter. No, it was all just between you and Lowgie Bear <3 (that was you liked to call him in confidence and was also the name for his contact on your phone). Even if you were on your work laptop playing games like Papa's Pizzeria, no one would even dare to ask if you were actually working. You were so focused on those games it looked as though you were popping some fun big numbers on Excel.
That morning when you got to the office, you did your usual - said hello to the people at front desk, hoped inside the elevator, listened to the click and clack of your heels, got to your office, prepared some coffee, and while that was brewing you signed into your computer and printed out the daily report. While that printed, you lit up your TJ Maxx candle, played some ambient mukbang ASMR on full blast (you're low-key deaf) and looked out the window into that concrete jungle Alicia Keys called New York. You always got to work bright and early, and that was mainly because you lived in an extra mailroom on the last floor in the basement. Logan said it was because he always wanted to keep you close.
It was a beautiful, clear morning, free of any suspicious airplanes. One of your favorite things to do was recite to yourself "I built this." Even though you didn't have literally one thing to do with the construction and knew nothing about scaffolding, it was a good affirmation that helped give you the confidence for the day. You felt like a mother holding her coffee watching her children rip those gifts to shreds like gross little rabid gremlins.
You loved having your new office. It originally belonged to Roman, Logan's son, who you swore was the youngest of all his children but that was actually Shiv. Despite birth records, you still didn't believe he wasn't the youngest. It arguably caused some premature strife between you and Roman when you acquired his office, but you didn't really care. Even after you insulted him the first time you met him, saying he "looked like that Home Alone kid", from that moment forward he had such a distaste and hatred for you, finding the comment extremely offensive. But like I said you didn't really care tbh. It was the truth and you wanted nothing to do with him, something Logan was also keen on. He always protected you. He was ride or die <3 Some might stay he was a stan <3
A knock came at your door. You whipped around in your rolling chair to see your girl - Gerri.
"Good morning, Gerri!" you said.
She smiled. She was so mother. "Y/N, remember - you can't light candles. It's a fire hazard." She smirked at your forgetfulness. She reminded you of a cute Littlest Pet Shop mouse.
You blew it out. "Yeah, I know, it just always stinks of an office in here. So what if a little a Vanilla Bean causes a little fire? A little fire never hurt anyone."
"I guess, Y/N. Until it does."
"Until it does what?"
"Never mind. Listen, Logan's in a meeting right now. Give him about a quarter to nine before you bring him his daily report or whatever."
"Sure," you said. Like what was previously said, math was not your forte. You only thought a quarter was for two things - a genre of coin and the quarter pounder, which was what you ordered when you resorted to McDonalds when Burger King wasn't available. Since when is a quarter involved in time?
"What are those daily reports about, anyway? I've always wondered," Gerri asked curiously before closing the door.
"Oh, Gerri, I would tell you. But Logan said he'll knock me off the side of a cruise ship like those women if I spilled."
Gerri didn't seem that content about what you said, giving what you know was a fake smile, and closed the door behind her as she left to the meeting. As you struggled to find out what a quarter meant, it just so happened you saw through the glass a tall ass man child limp by your room.
You got up and ran to the door. "Greg!" you called in a harsh whisper, but wasn't successful as a whisper since you saw everyone's head clocked towards you from their desks. "Greg!"
He turned and lit up when he saw you, literally like the child he is. He limped to your door. "Y/N, hey, good morning. What's up?"
"Why are you limping?" you asked, confused as to why he was limping.
"Oh, well, uh," he hesitated and looked around. "Tom and I were sitting at this like, ATN meeting, like across from each other? We started playing - well, are you familiar with the game 'footsies'? Well, we were getting pretty, I guess, into it? I mean, Tom a little more-so than me? And he I guess started to get upset because I was winning? But I'm not completely sure how to win footsies? So he got a little carried away, I guess? He started hitting me quite violently with his foot, like no longer in the playful manner? Anyway, my leg's all bruised -"
"- Greg I have a question. What's a quarter to nine mean?"
He thought for a moment. He needed to lean down a bit for your short ass to hear the whisper. "A quarter? You mean like the coin? Or the burger -"
"No dumbass bitch, a quarter to nine."
"Ohhhh," he said, "sorry, my, or - our separation, like our distance in height prevented me from hearing like, the rest of your sentence. I believe a quarter to nine is, if my knowledge doesn't precede me, eight forty-five."
"Okay great thanks!" you closed the door behind him soon after. You liked Greg, but was sure not to be around him for too long, as anywhere Greg was, so was Tom. And Tom was not your favorite to be around when you were sober. Greg was like a cub and Tom was the mama bear. Wherever there's a cub, the mama was always near. Cocaine bear proved that. #ripRayLiotta
Once that quarter to eight came, you grabbed Logan's favorite cup of coffee, (it was a mug that read "I'm Grumpy Without My Coffee" with Grumpy Cat's face on it #ripGrumpyCat) and the daily report that was freshly printed. You began to walk down the hall towards his office. He had his blinds down, so upon entering you literally didn't expect every fucking person and their mother to be there.
You barged in, "Lowgie Bear! I have you daily repor -" and you were shell shocked. Logan was sat at his desk, hands together like a villain, surrounded by literally everyone. Gerri, Frank, Karl, Stewy, Hugo, Karolina, Roman, Shiv, Greg (and next to him mama bear Tom) and - Kendall.
Kendall. Ken. Kenny.
What was there to say? You froze staring at his fine Mickey Mouse personified face.
You and Kendall - well, you two had history. Actually, it was barely history but there was some pretext. Basically, ever since the first time you met, there was tension. And the good tension, not that Roman type of tension...................................................................
You remembered where you were the day before you met Kendall - the day before you met any of the Roys - boxes in your arms filled with all your stuff from your dorm, standing on some New York street, something like a corner and third, lost like a rat who was kicked out from his borough. All you had to eat that day was a hot dog from the floor that you wrestled a rat for to get. You stood there embarrassingly as cars flew by you, splashing puddles of water all over your Juicy tracksuit. You hated being helpless on the street - the last time that happened a taxi screeecccchheeeddddd on the side of the corner. You didn't want that to happen again.
Then, you felt your phone buzz against your fat butt. You put one of the boxes down, but it actually slipped and some of your shit fell down the sewer drain.
"Motherfucker!" you yelled, ready to cry. Things were definitely not going your way. "What's a girl to fucking do?! Who the fuck is this?"
You reached to your pocket and pulled out your iPhone 4s. It was a number you didn't recognize, but you weren't about to just hang up. No, you were going to see who the fuck decided to give you a little ring and caused your fake Puka shell necklace, Medellín snow globe, pink Barbie Benadryl pills, and extra large tampons to fall into the sewers. Tampons were expensive in today's economy, after all that inflation business or whatever.
"What, bitch?" you snapped.
"Y/N! Hey, it's Willa!"
"Oh my God, Willa, girl, hey!" you smiled, your voice flipping into your true friendly self. Thank god it was her, because being a Karen wasn't your style. That lifestyle was for the Karen's. "Where've you been?"
"Y/N, what a couple of months it's been, you won't believe. I'm calling from my boyfriend's phone, I lost mine."
"Your boyfriend?" you thought, "oh yeah, Zachary, right?"
"No, Connor, actually. Listen, I wanna hang out with you! Connor's going to be out of town for a couple days, you know, work and stuff, but his family is having this little getty at his dad's house. Come with me!"
"Willa I would so love to! When is it?"
"Tomorrow night. I can pick you up at your dorm!"
"Actually Willa," you said, "that can't happen. I got kicked out. Long story. I'm actually homeless as we speak."
"Oh, really? Look it's okay, I can get you a hotel room until you find a place to stay. I would let you stay at me and Connor's, but he gets paranoid someone's gonna take his Napoleonic memorabilia."
"Yeah totally that makes sense. Thanks a bunch!"
Willa, being your girl, got you that hotel room. And that shit was nice as fuck like Scarface when Tony Montana was in that bathtub smoking that cigar. It made you so happy to know your girl Willa got her sugar daddy. You both met in a theater production you were forced to go to for school, but the experience was a lot less boring when you met her. From that day on, you two were destined to be just a couple of girlies. She was like a breath of fresh shy white girl that you couldn't find anywhere else.
You were sitting in the bathtub that resembles Tony Montana's and had accidentally knocked out the fuck out when your phone rang. Thank god it woke you up cause you were about three more minutes before you were completely submerged and could've drowned :/ . You jumped up and scrambled for your phone on the bathroom counter, suds of soap all over your head that blocked your vision. It was Willa.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Y/N, you ready? I'm downstairs in the car."
"Uh, yeah I am! Just give me like five, girlie!" you hung up, catapulted your phone across the room, jumped out of the scorching hot tub butt ass naked and ran for your dress that laid out on the bed. You dried yourself of all the suds with the towel before catapulting that out too.
"We'll just have to go braless and pantiless. No bras, no panties! No bras, no panties!" you repeated in an effort to justify the lack of bras and panties. You then threw your dress over you, shoved your heels on, and picked up your hair in a clip. "No bras, no panties!"
Just as you were out for the door, you saw yourself in the mirror and wanted to throw up - the anxiety had built in you and you felt your butt clench. You needed to shit but there was literally no time for this.
"Move, bitch!" you yelled at a guest as you bolted down the hallway towards the elevator, slamming them against the wall. Guests must've thought you planted a bomb or something in your room with how manic you looked and how fast your legs were taking you.
"STOMP! STOMP! SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!", your feet said as you ran. It was the best thing you knew how to do.
Water was still dripping down your leg, and once you got outside the cold New York wind intensified the coolness of it so much so that it was basically stinging. It stung. You jumped over all five steps and landed on the ground, banging your hand on the tinted window.
"Let me in! Let me in! LET ME INNNNNNN!!!!!!" you yelled. The window rolled down, revealing your girl, Willa.
"Jesus Christ, Y/N, what's wrong? Hop in!"
You jumped through the window feet first despite the door being opened moments prior.
You two were in the backseat, now off to the gala! "This is a nice car," you said. "Presidential type. Like, JFK would've loved this."
"JFK?"
"John Fitzgerald Kennedy? Like, it's so secretive. He would've liked it because it could've prevented his death, you know. No one can see inside."
Willa's stares lingered on you for several moments before she finally said something. You couldn't talk much after because you were too winded.
"Y/N, are you okay?"
You turned away from the window and looked to her. You tried to smile, but you were too tired too. It looked like a part of your face was melting. "Yeah girl I'm fine. You look great! Why do you ask?"
"Just, cause, uh," she looked you up and down, "you're dripping wet."
"Yeah it was raining."
"Raining? But it's been clear all day -"
"In the room. I mean my hotel room," you chuckled, "it was raining in my hotel room."
She was definitely confused.
"You know, leaks and all," you finished. You thought it best to move on. "Do you have any makeup on you? I thought I should go all natural, you know, no makeup. But now I'm regretting my decision."
"Yeah, I think I have mascara," she opened her purse and pulled it out, giving it to you.
"Better than Sex, oh my god that's like vintage. Like 2016 vintage," you said and used your phone as a reflection to put it on. Some bumps in the road caused the wand to jam into your eye causing it to go red but nonetheless your lashes were coated. You gave it back. You checked how you now looked in the reflection of the car - but it just seemed you had pink eyes in both eyes. Uh oh.
"That's all I have, Y/N, I'm sorry," Willa said, still shuffling through her ludicrously capacious bag.
"No, it's okay. Sometimes mascara is all you need! But sometimes it's not. How come you invited me? Not that I wouldn't have wanted to come, but like, what happened with Connor?"
"Oh you know, he's on this campaign tour thing and all that. I just didn't want to go alone," she chuckled, embarrassed.
"Sounds fun," you said. "Who's this family?"
"The Roys. They're a bit crazy."
You laughed. "What do you mean, crazy? I've seen crazy, heck - you've seen crazy. We were literally in theater together. I bet they aren't even that bad."
"No, they're pretty bad. They can all be pretty mean. And judgey. They're like, blood related but not actually a family, you know? So, like, don't engage with them too much. They don't like when you look in their eyes for too long. So where'd you get your dress? It's so pretty."
"Goodwill," you said confidently. "Isn't it pretty? It makes my ass look fat bro."
You shifted over to show her, struggling as you were still wet and inadvertently created a slip and slide on the leather seats.
She agreed it was fat. "Wow, that's from Goodwill? I wouldn't have thought."
You sat back down. "Of course, what, you think I was gonna buy a dress? I'm broke, remember."
"Well, wait, didn't you have that money from Colombia?"
"Well who says I bought it," you said, biting your tongue with a smile, "also don't bring up Colombia."
You two had finally made it to Logan's penthouse and pulled up outside. You both stepped out and entered, going into the elevator.
"Willa, this is like, rich rich," you whispered.
"I told you," she whispered back.
Once inside the penthouse, you knew you had to unlock your inner theater girl - not the annoying one, but the ACTING one. You had to unlock the Y/N self that belonged here - with the upper echelon of society. This was your debut.
You quickly lost Willa. One minute she was with you in the mess of all these people, and the next moment she was gone. But you couldn't let it throw you off - sometimes in theater, you know since it's live, mistakes happen! The show must go on!
You grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a waiter and stood up straighter. You sipped, and despite it tasting like expired sparkling water, you sipped and sipped. You then downed three others - that liquid courage had now been activated and in full effect.
"Man this tastes like dick," you thought. Rich people really did have shitty taste.
The air smelled of expensive cologne and perfume, you wondered if their noses built a tolerance to how strong it was because it was extremely overwhelming and frankly nauseating. Maybe all the coke they do blocks sensory receptors? Who knows, but Jesus Christ it was as if there was an oil spill that actually smelled good but not too good when it's all mixed together. So yeah basically an oil spill in the water but there's no Dawn to save it.
You felt your tummy rumble.
Mama's getting hungry...mama needs to eat so the monster doesn't come out....
But it didn't take long for you to realize that it wasn't cause you were hungry. After all, you more than helped yourself to the snack bar, basically chilling there for like fifteen minutes fucking up everything they had to offer. Rich people didn't seem to like eating, because all the food was barely touched. How ungrateful. The last thing you had to eat was that hot dog you had to roundhouse kick that rat to the ground.
No, it was that very familiar feeling - the feeling when your bowels are incontrollable and on fire. Your body tensed and your heart began to race - you needed to shit. But when didn't you?
You darted (and farted) in every direction, looking for a door that appeared to resemble a bathroom. You felt that anxiety amp up as you failed to find one. You then began to walk around, essentially crop-dusting, still searching but keeping the composure of your rich socialite character you were playing tonight. Never mind the beads of sweat that ran down your face and the shortness of your breath that resembled an asthma attack.
"Y/N! There you are, I thought I lost you!" you turned and saw your girl, Willa. "I was looking for you, I even went to the food bar looking for you -"
"Willa where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? I'm hurting," you ordered. "I'm hurting bad."
"Oh, it's literally right behind you. Go in, I'll wait out here. I wanna introduce you to some people -"
You turned to find a door and pushed that shit open, revealing a beautiful porcelain toilet. You entered and shut the door behind you before Willa could even finish.
You hit that toilet and everything, and I mean everything, came out. You desecrated that once beautiful porcelain toilet. The formation was solid, meaning you were healthy! You smiled, you loved solid ones. It made you feel so healthy. Anyway you looked around the bathroom for any refreshers or sprays - you didn't wanna exactly leave your scent in here. But honestly you weren't scared if you did, their colognes and perfumes could overpower it.
Once you finished, you wiped front to back cause you're not a degenerate and flushed, then flushed again to rid any remaining skid marks to cover any evidence. After all, girl's don't shit. You washed your hands on the beautiful porcelain sink and took yourself in in the mirror - you always looked and felt renewed after emptying yourself. Who needs coke when you have your natural bodily processes?
You noticed some q-tips that were scattered around, snapped in two, and some pieces of magazines ripped all over the floor. You looked below to the trash bin, and saw all sorts of broken decor, more q-tips and magazine pieces stuffed inside. There was also a broken hairdryer and smears of black on the cabinets. It appeared a lot of violence had went down.
"They must've had a crazy number two," you thought. You laughed to yourself, "Oh, how I've been there."
Once you washed up and after taking some grainy selfies on your iPhone 4s, you went back outside and saw your girl Willa waiting.
"Relieved?"
"Oh, girl, always. It's like spiritual meditation, you know," you said. "Anyway, Willa, you told me this was a getty - but this is like an actual party." You couldn't help but feel yourself smirk at all the possibilities - the champagne was hitting. Willa seemed to read you like a book.
"Y/N, no, I know what you're thinking. Yeah it's more of a party than a getty, but it's not a party party. You can't get 'faded' or 'off da juice' or whatever you like to say. Just don't embarrass me, please. These people are not fans of plus ones," Willa explained, sure to make sure that you got the vibe. You did and assured her. After all, getting fucked up wasn't a part of your character in tonight's script!
"It's okay, Willa, I won't. I thought these rich people would have good alcohol, but after having some to calm the nerves, you know, it's really not that good. Honestly I think I shit most of it out. Liquidated, you know?" you bit your tongue like a mom, but you didn't realize when you did since it was ingrained in who you were, "See? I'm fitting in just fine with these business people!"
Willa began to introduce to you to a bunch of the people there, but you honestly started to get overwhelmed. There was no differentiating between them, they were all old white people and you forgot their names the moment after Willa said them, so you just opted to referring to everyone as "girlie". Some didn't like it but some people don't like seeing a woman succeed.
"Hey, Willa, I'm gonna take a break. It's just a lot of people to take in right now, you know? It's a lot at once," you said. Willa understood and was going to talk to some others, leaving you back to yourself.
You got bored pretty quick. You weren't talking to anyone but the character you were playing was also getting bored. If you couldn't drink, then what fun was there to do? No one was dancing, no one was getting 'lit'. But there was one thing you knew - and that was that someone here had drugs. Like, rich people drugs. You weren't just about to do ketamine or bath salts, but maybe weed? You handled yourself well when you were high and maybe it could help this experience altogether?
You began to scope around for someone who resembled a stoner. It was pretty difficult because everyone was wearing nice outfits like suits and dresses, so picking out who in the building that looked like they skated and listened to Odd Future was proving difficult.
"My god, what's a girl gotta do to smoke around here?" you thought.
And then - you found him. He was abnormally tall and definitely looked like he might be a pothead. He was standing outside on the balcony, looking clueless like a puppy or some shit. Man definitely didn't belong here.
"These nepo babies", you thought to yourself as you b-lined towards him.
"Hey, can I smoke with you?" you asked. He turned and looked down at you. You didn't feel you were that short but brother in Christ this man was tall.
"Uh, I'm sorry? I don't think we've met," he extended his hand out for a shake. You shook it, but didn't like it, "I'm Greg, I'm, uh, I'm Logan's nephew. Well, great nephew, technically. But we've like, fostered a relationship, where I'm more of a nephew than a great nephew -"
"- Yeah that's great I'm sure you're great. I'm Y/N. Do you have weed? Mama - I mean, I could use some."
The tall dude named Greg the great nephew smiled like a little boy, "Yeah I do. I get you, it's a lot of people around. That's how I felt when I first got here, you know. Perhaps we should go to the other side of the terrace, perhaps a more secluded area?"
"Yeah whatever," you said. You followed him a little farther down the balcony, behind some shrubbery that blocked you from the sight of all the other rich old people. He stuck his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a small baggie of weed. He continued to shuffle through, but seemed to have lost something. "Oh shit, I forgot the wrappers at home."
There was no way you were going to miss out cause this dodo bird forgot wrappers. "That's okay," you spat. "Stay here, I'll be right back."
You walked back out into the balcony, then back to inside to the food bar. You grabbed some slimy slices of cheese and salami, then went back out to meet Greg.
"Here, use these," you presented him the slices of salami and cheese, but there was no thought behind his blue Miley eyes.
"Uh, what?"
"Roll with these. I've done it before, here, give me," you grabbed the baggie from his hands and began to scatter the bud in a straight little line across the salami and cheese. You then rolled it up tightly, licking the ends shut and presenting it to Greg, who was safe to stay, astonished.
"You really just crafted a doobie out of salami and cheese?" he said, in awe.
"It sucks being poor. You learn your way around things. I also saw this on a clip on YouTube from that show Extreme Cheapskates. Here," you gave him the deli spliff and began to roll another.
"Does this thing really work?" Greg asked you, inspecting it.
"Okay, Grav3yardgirl," you said. "It does. It's basically a life hack."
Greg pulled out a lighter and lit the end, taking in a drag successfully. He was still in awe.
"This is like, inventive. I mean, there is a hint of, uh, dairy and meat, but it's not actually that bad. It's like a true bodega joint. It's just missing the bagel and the salami would have to be bacon instead."
You lit up your joint and you were set - this was it. You looked over the balcony and taking in the city and those hits. You felt like Remy from Ratatouille eating the strawberry and cheese, all the flavors were coming together. It was disgusting at first, but tolerable after a while. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.
You two sat in silence for some minutes, enjoying one another's company.
"So, would you rather be trapped in a pool with a shark, or with a tiger in a cage?" he asked. You looked over to him, his eyes blood red and glossy.
"Uh, honestly," it took you a moment to process what he was saying. You felt so slow and a little stupid. "Well, how about this instead - gay son or thot daughter?"
Greg took a moment before answering. You frankly forgot what you asked by the time he answered. "Well, uh, in terms of which I'd rather have, I honestly don't know exactly. Maybe like, whatever would come first, you know, if I had a son or daughter first, maybe the logistics of the situation would play a factor," he took another moment. "Honestly this question is kinda stressing me out. Is it supposed to do that?"
"Uh, heyyyyy Gregggguuhh! What are you doing out here, buddy? I've been missing my Sporus!"
You both turned your heads pretty slowly to your left, seeing a head pop out on the side of the shrubbery. It looked as if he was floating and your inebriated self thought it actually was. He resembled Horton from Horton Hears a Who.
"Oh, uh, hey Tom," said Greg. "Tom, this is Y/N."
You waved. He came out from behind and revealed his entire body. You were relived that he wasn't floating after all.
"Y/N, huh? And from where do you sprout from, huh? From what depths have you appeared to land a spot on this balcony?"
You stared at him blankly. You saw his eyes dart from yours to both of your joints. His eyebrows furrowed.
"Are those, are you eating the food bar's deli as if it was a cigarette? Why is it all rolled in that fashion, huh Greg?"
"It's, uh, it's weed. Do you want some?" Greg offered.
"Weed? What do you mean 'weed', Greg?" he inspected Greg's salami and cheese, also in awe. He scoffed, stumped. "Well aren't you just a little brainiac scientist? What are you going to do next, Greg, are you going to make a nuke out of the potato salad?"
"It was actually, it was actually Y/N that made these."
Tom looked to you. "Really?"
Though it didn't appear as so, you were getting overwhelmed as you had gotten used to just Greg's presence, and it didn't help you were still getting over the fact Tom wasn't actually floating. All you could muster up to do was a very lazy, slightly paralyzed-looking biting tongue in your white mom way. It was really your default response.
"Uh, what was that?" Tom asked.
"What was what?" you asked back.
"That tongue thing - right there, when you bit your tongue. Wait there - you just did it again!" he said, pointing at you. You didn't realize it but you did do it again. "How'd you do that?"
"Um, I don't know you said. You just do it," you repeated it again. He seemed to really enjoy it as he began to laugh in disbelief.
"That seems fun!" he said, and he began to do the same, "it's quite fun, isn't it?" He then continued, one after the other until he got the bite right, enjoying himself. You and Greg watched with dead faces. You weren't sure for how long that lasted (it was an hour).
"Uh, the fuck is going on here? What kind of orgy is this?" another voice boomed.
A small man came out from behind. You felt your anxiety grow more now that another person was added behind the shrubbery.
"Who the fuck are you?" he asked you. His squeaky voice was one that you found extremely irritating.
"I'm me," you said, more sass in your tone to match his.
He looked to your salami cheese roll up. "The fuck is that? Wait, are you smoking weed out of what the fuck is even that," he looked closer at it, "fucking havarti cheese? I mean, how poor are you? Aren't my tax dollars for you fucking welfare checks to afford wrappers?"
Greg rose up. "It's actually, uh, pretty innovative. It just proves, I think, personally, that anything can be a wrapper if you want it to be. Like, if you set your mind to it."
"Yeah, how about that? Say can my dick be a wrapper if you 'set your mind to it'? And what about you," he turned to your direction, "what're you a fucking - a fucking mute? Who are you fucking, Helen Keller?"
You continued to stare him down. You didn't know what it was but his little presence was really starting to make you angry. A part of you had the strong urge to stand and use all your strength to knock this elf on the shelf motherfucker over the ledge. He seemed to be reading your face.
"Her name is actually Y/N," said Greg.
"Y/N, huh?" he looked to Tom, who this entire time had been practicing his mom tonguing. "The fuck is wrong with you? Why does it look like you're having a stroke?"
"Can you leave us alone," you finally said.
He whipped his head back to you, a daring look on his face. "Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do? Run to Twitter and cancel me? I'm Roman Roy, motherfucker. You can't cancel this," he motioned his entire petite body.
"You look like the kid from Home Alone," you shot back. "The one that got left alone."
Roman's face froze. He could not believe what the fuck you just said. Greg giggled but soon stopped once he realizes just how quickly and deeply Roman was made insecure.
You didn't want to linger for any longer in the awkward silence, so you quickly rose and bolted.
"That was the weirdest blunt rotation I've ever had", you thought. And you once smoked with Pablo Escobar's mom.
Fortunately, parallel to the other side the terrace was another corner covered on shrubbery. It was a perfect spot to finish off your joint, now in complete peace but not complete silence, as the party was still going on like ten feet away.
It was now nearing nighttime. The sun began to set over Alicia Key's concrete jungle.
"Hey, mind if I join?"
"Jesus Christ how many are there of you?!" you screamed, turning to your right to see who the fuck was it now disturbing your silence now.
And that was him. Kendall. You didn't know it at the time but that was Kendall Roy.
"Oh, sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to bother you -"
"No it's okay," you quickly switched up, sure to smile. "Come sit. I'm sorry, I just, I got stressed out." You giggled in embarrassment, sounding a little like Trisha Paytas.
He took the seat beside you. "No, I get it," he smiled, revealing his goofy fine ass smile, "it can get pretty annoying, all these fuckers here put in one place. Kendall."
"Y/N," you said. You then offered your roll up, "you wanna kill it?"
He took it. "Sure. I don't even know what the fuck this is, but fuck it," he placed the entire roll up into his mouth, the tip of it barely out from his lips as he took a hit. You watched, transfixed and taken aback. He began to blow out rings and laughed as he coughed. "Jesus, that's some strong fucking shit there."
You tried not to look too much at him, instead facing back forward. But you couldn't help it. Man was fine as fuck in the goofiest way. The way he blew those rings - I mean what that mouth do I don't know.
You remembered a quote you saw on a Pinterest board once - "Compliments are just the absolute best ❤️ ". Now was your time to shine and put that quote to WORK.
"Your eyebrows."
He looked over to you. "Sorry? My eyebrows?"
"They're like, thin. Like Y2K vibes. I have to use a Men's shaver to get mine like yours - but you just have them all natural."
He nodded. He didn't get what the fuck you were on about. "Thanks. So who are you?" he asked. "Who do you know here?"
"I'm Willa's friend," you replied. From then on, you two spoke the rest of the night, free from any disturbance as you two were hidden in the shrubbery. As time went on, you felt a strong connection with him, and despite him being attractive, there was somewhat of a sad presence around him, in his self-deprecating way. There was something helpless, something loser about him that you felt immensely relatable. You could tell that he lacked a mother (and honestly father) figure, something you felt immediately attached to. Not to say that just because you're a girl means you're going to have motherly instincts all the time, but it was extremely intense with this one. A part of you wanted to pick up your hair in a ponytail and let everything do the rest, but another part of you wanted to cradle this man and pop a boob out to breastfeed his ass like the mother from Barbarian did to Justin Long's character.
Later that night, he'd introduce you to his father, Logan, and that was it. You won him over as assistant when he asked you a simple question, "Y/N. What would you do with a million dollars?" he was trying to prove something to his kids but you didn't realize it then. Your answer was quick, simple, and to the point: "If I had a million dollars I would buy so many cheeseburgers and Big Macs in McDonald's. I would also go to sweet tomatoes during lunch hour and I would tell the manager I want to co-own the business. And then I would fly myself to meet harry styles and offer him some money (not like he needs it) and ask him if he can be my boyfriend. And he can't deny my proposal cause I own sweet tomatoes. And I can offer him McDonald's food and he'll love me for that."
He loved that answer. "Smart. Very smart."
From that point on, you pretty much secured your position that family.
Working at the office, you and Kendall flirted here and there, but it never became anything too serious, to your own dismay. You loved the adrenaline that came through you when you saw him at work, and weren't at all opposed to the little office romance you two had going on. A little Jim and Pam hurt no one. You'd even post on your Instagram stories a screenshot of the two and type out "me and who". Kendall hearted it every time <3
One of your favorite parts of the day was getting ready for work, where you woke up two hours earlier to do your makeup and hair, and mentally prepare yourself for when you saw him at work. You looked cute asf every time, so the days he wouldn't show - let's just say it was very difficult for you to go on. Those days always ended up being the worst and resulted in you going to an extra storage room by yourself and going absolutely ape shit and trashing the entire place to let go some of that unwanted tension from the lack of the wanted tension from Kendall.
Okay so back to the office. Again, EVERYONE was there.
You snapped out of your trance. "Oh, uh, I'll come back later!" You were about to turn around, as you were not mentally prepared for all of that, let alone Kendall. He hadn't been in the office for several days and it just so happened that you got self-diagnosed with depression at that same time. See the coincidence?
"The fuck do you want?" Roman asked. "Don't you see the adults are talking?"
"Watch it, Roman," Kendall said. He always came to your rescue and it made you all hot down there.
"Shut up," Roman said to his brother. Oh no. That was a no-no in your book, no-no.
"Shut up Home Alone bitch!" you shot back.
He glared at you. It was like a slur for that man. You saw the flashbacks from the party replay behind his eyes, it filled you with such satisfaction. "You don't tell me to shut up! What do you want? Why are you even here, huh? Wanna crack my dad's back again, huh?"
"Romulus, enough," Logan said. His voice had such power it made the room fall silent again. Roman, annoyed and upset with his father's picking of sides, gave up. He crossed his arms and turned to face the window, away from you. "I'm sorry, Y/N."
"No, it's totally okay!" you said to your boss, "I love a little office rapport!"
Logan smiled softly, his little white mustache moving upwards. He turned to Roman. "For the record, Y/N cracks backs better than any one of you morons in here can." He turned to you again. "What is it, Y/N?"
"I have the, you know," you motioned to the papers, "you know. The documents."
Logan's face lit up. "Oh yes, yes. Alright everyone, fuck off!"
Everyone looked to one another, clueless.
"Well, wait. Logan. What do we do? We need to have a decision for tonight, for the markets, before the stock closes," said Frank.
The moment the words "markets" and "stocks" came out of Frank's mouth, they were as if they were the secret code to turn your brain off. You zoned out the moment they began to blabber on, incapable of deciphering whatever the fuck they were talking about. All the big words were difficult for you to understand. In fact, you didn't understand literally anyone in this office but you did a pretty good job at pretending you did. Your usual rotation of responses were as follows:
"Oh my god yes we have to think about the numbers!" or
"Yeah, the shareholders won't be big fans of that!" or
"The stock! We need to think about how it'll affect he stock!" or
"Yes! Investors are investing!"
There were more and even though sometimes saying any of these would result you in getting pretty confused looks, playing the office bimbo was just, well, YOUR forte. Not math.
You knew they were finished talking when they all began to leave. You snapped out of your disassociation and opened the door for them as they all left. Kendall gave you a small nod (you blushed), Gerri said thank you, Tom did his little white mom tongue that he now completely mastered, and Stewy winked at you. All the others just left, except Roman, who left last. He stopped at the door, and in a whisper said, "Keep up your attitude and I'll personally hire a tech fucker to wipe all your Sims 3 files from your PC."
You ignored him and shut the door behind him, pushing and forcing him out. He couldn't do that. Do you know how hard it was to log into your computer? No one would guess your password was ImJohnnyKnoxvillesLittleTenesseeWhiskeyCowgirl123.
You walked over to Logan as he put his glasses on and inspected the papers you put in front of him. "The fuck is it today?" he looked at the papers carefully, then closely, but ultimately threw it down. "Can you read it, Y/N, the print is so fucking small!"
"Of course, Logan!" you smiled, you cleared your throat. "Okay, today's date October 13th! Today's horoscope for Libras are, (insert here an entire usual horoscope bullshit here that really doesn't mean or say anything despite having a shit ton of words and sentences that sound like they make sense but they don't)."
Logan took a second after you finished. He began to nod. "Sounds about fucking right. I'm surrounded by MORONS!" he looked to you, "Not you, Y/N, you're just a bimbo."
"Aw, thanks, of course! Do you need anything else?"
"Yes, actually. I don't know how to get that goddamned Alexa to fucking work! Can you turn it on for me, Y/N, or fix it. Whatever the fuck, just do something about it!"
You walked over to it, initially not believing you could even try to attack the root of the problem. But, it wasn't hard. It was plugged out of its socket. No biggie. "Fixed it!"
"Thank you, Y/N, can you play that uh," he sat, thinking in his old man brain, "that woman."
"What woman?" you asked.
"Erm, that woman you know the one. You played it last time."
"Oh!" you remembered, "Lana! Yeah sure, what song?"
"The one I liked."
"Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey."
The Alexa lit up blue and began to play. Logan nodded. "Nothing better than a woman who's proud to be an American woman." Logan put his glasses back on and began to look at other mumbo jumbo documents at his desk. "Thank you, Y/N. You may go now."
You walked over to the door, "anything else, Logan?"
"Actually yes, one more thing," he looked above his papers to you, "Go get your nails done. You need refills, 'girlie'."
You looked down to your hands. It was true. You really did need refills bad. It's literally been five fucking weeks and those acrylics were barely hanging on.
You were now at the nail salon, admiring your new set - they were a French set - Logan's favorite. You sat in the chair waiting for your nail lady to get a seat to do your feet. It was packed in there, but you weren't leaving until your patas were done.
"Well, well, look who's here."
You turned around at the bell on the door ringing. Stewy had just entered.
"Hey Stewy," you said, surprised, "what are you doing here? Picking up your girlfriend?"
He showed his well groomed hands. His nails were short and smooth - no cuticle in SIGHT.
"I always knew you were a well-manicured man." He took his own seat with his lady and began to create some rapport with her.
"Hey so listen, there's like no chairs that are going to be available soon, is it okay if we put you in the backrooms chair?" you nail lady asked.
"Yeah sure! Let's go!"
She took you to the back which resembled a photo from that liminal spaces Twitter account and sat you down on a lawn chair with an Orbeez Soothing Spa at the bottom. You put your patas in those rubber boba-esque balls, enjoying the weird sensation on your feet. She didn't realize, but as she was getting things to prepare, you kept popping some of those balls in with your feet. They were delicious. She then began to get to work, taking a little longer than usual taking off all your dead skin. It looked like parmesan cheese had been coated all over those rubber balls.
Mid-way in, with the first coat, your phone began to ring. It was no longer an iPhone 4s, you were able to upgrade now to an iPhone 7 rose gold! Though your nails were still wet, you struggled to grab it from your side with just the palms of your hands.
You gasped, wide-eyed at the contact name. It was Kendall.
"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" you worried. Your nail lady gave you a giant side eye. "Can you answer it? I can't, my nails -"
You passed it over to her, but before she could grab it your phone thought it would be funny to do a little slippy slip slip from your hands and fell into the Orbeez bath. "Oh fuck!"
Your nail lady grabbed the iPhone, drying it with a towel, answered the phone and passed it over to you. You scrambled to answer.
"Hello, Kendall? Oh my God," you called. His voice was cracky and static. You looked to the lady, pointing at it, "it's Kendall!"
"No, it's wet. There's water in your phone, it's broken."
"Oh no!" you cried, "Ken, can you hear me?"
"He- lo- Y/N - cn an - you - ear - meeee"
The line then dropped, and your phone screen went black. "He sounds like shit. Man. I missed my fucking chance. FUCK!" you catapulted your now broken phone across the salon, accidentally and effectively hitting Stewy in the face. He was not happy. It was a habit you really needed to break.
After you finished both your mani and pedi, you went back to Waystar ready to present to Logan just where his money had gone. It was night time by now, so the building was bordering on empty.
You went up the elevator and went straight for his office - but oh no he's not there.
"Aw, man," you said, saddened. You turned back around, back for the exit, with lack of pep in your step...
"Hey, Y/N," you turned over - oh fuck it's Kendall. "Hey, I called you earlier."
"Oh, hey Kendall. Yeah sorry, I was doing my nails and my phone slipped into the Orbeez Soothing Spa thing. Look at them," you presented your hands. He touched them softly, looking at them in the light. His touch made you SHIT.
"Wow," he said, admiring them, "why are they so long?"
"Uh, cause the longer the better, duh!"
"What's this white powder, under your nail? That white shit? Is that why they're long, you're snorting?" he began to giggle.
"Uh no," you took your hands away from his gently and inspected it for yourself, "it's baby powder. I chafe bad. Some must've gotten stuck. Anyway, you going to Logan's birthday dinner tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, that's actually why I called you. Will you go with me?"
"Of course! I mean, I was going anyway!"
"Uh, yeah, I know, but, I meant to go with me?"
"No yeah I know what you mean. But, technically, me going is like, me going with everyone. But of course Kendall!"
He smiled his goofy smile, it filled you with butterflies (euphemism for anxiety) that made you all warm inside. It filled you with such satisfaction to know that you had that affect on him. But of course you did, you are you and that's just what you do!
The following morning, you had your usual routine - you left the basement, elevator, your office, coffee, sign in, print horoscopes, looked out to the city, "I built this", lit your candle before Gerri told you to put it out, whatever. You made sure to look EXTRA cute today cause girl this was going to be a very important night. Kendall literally asked you out. This is no fucking joke. It's like the D-Day of this World War II thing y'all got going on if no one was dying.
After reading Logan his horoscopes, he asked to look at your nails.
"They're perfect, Y/N," he smiled. When he wasn't scary he was just a chill old man. "French. My favorite genre of nail."
"Of course, Logan! It is your birthday today after all! I actually have a gift for you. Do you mind if I give it to you now, I just can't wait," you said. It was true, you couldn't wait. You handed him an envelope before he could say yes.
He began to open it, taking out your gift - a sticker of bagpipes you got from Redbubble. You waited excitedly for his reaction like a weirdo.
"They're bagpipes! Since, you know, you're Scottish, so they're like naturally your favorite instrument! You can put it anywhere, it's waterproof!"
Logan looked up to you, a dead-serious face he only sported during his seemingly important meetings. A part of you didn't read this Logan expression well - you didn't know what he was about to say next...
"Y/N," he began in a serious, low tone, "this is the most thoughtful fucking gift I've ever received that none of these moronic imbeciles have ever gotten close to giving me. Better than anything my own fucking kids have given me. Thank you. I'll put it on the side of my helicopter."
Your wholesome moment was then ruined by an all too familiar annoying voice. It was Greg.
"The fuck do you want, Greg?" Logan boomed.
"Well, uh, happy birthday Uncle Log, first off. But anyway, uh," he struggled.
"Spit it out!"
"Well, uh, Tom's asking for Y/N. Like, summoning her down to ATN. We're uh actually short of an assistant today, you know, for the debate."
"Debate? Oh yeah, yeah, Y/N, go on."
As you were leaving, you heard the faint and muffled start of what you recognized as "Million Dollar Man" by Lana Del Rey come from Logan's office. You began to walk down the hallway down to ATN, a place you rarely ever found yourself going to. If there was anything worse than numbers, it was politics. It just honestly sounded like a whole lotta nothing to you. But you weren't just about to say no to Logan, especially today - that would be illegal. Greg continued talking about potential gifts for Logan, but you had a knack for drowning people out.
"Hey buddyyyyyyy," another all too familiar voice called. You turned to see Tom's Horton ass face catch up with you and Greg.
"What, Tom?" you asked.
"Well, I'm sure my assistant briefed you," he looked over to Greg, with a little gay twinkle in his eye, "but we do have a guest today for ATN. A little debate, you might say. A little clinking and clashing of fine weaponry, perhaps, shiny swords of red and blue -"
"- Don't you think that's like, embarrassing?" you asked. You three reached the newsroom, where one of the anchors was getting her makeup retouched but looking extremely annoyed as if she was going to bite the makeup artist's finger Abby Lee Miller style.
Tom seem insulted. "Why? What do you mean embarrassing, Y/N?"
"Well, like, lowkey," you said in a whisper as to not get bitten by the woman, Tom leaned in, "anyone from the outside can debate anyone in here and like, win. I don't think it's that hard."
Tom backed up. He took a moment, and looked to the anchor for the day's debate, then back to you. "Well, I take great offense to that, Y/N."
"Yeah, whatever. What do I know, though? Anyway what do I have to do what the fuck am I actually doing down here?"
"The guest should be arriving soon, through the back, where the shredded papers are thrown away. By the dumpster, you know, where you seemed to appear from like a fairy. As if Tinker Bell was a homeless fairy and a slut. Go on, go, escort him up," Tom turned, arms now crossed like a child and refused to talk to you anymore. That was just Tom, though. You shrugged it off and went towards the back.
Once you opened the door, you saw that fat ass SUV of an Escalade pull up and out came the guest. But it wasn't just any guest - no no it can't be. It's not just any ordinary guest, not just your regular Joe - oh no, oh no oh fuck fuck fuck - it's your ex Hasan! Fuck!
His 6'4'' ass stepped out in his signature blue suit - the same he always wore for debates that you ironed (and burned multiple holes through that you blamed on overly-grown moths) yourself - and you both caught one another's stare.
Let's just say - you were stunned. Like, no fucking way. There's no way. But there is a way and this was the way exactly. You were pretty much at a loss for words. All that confidence from "I built this" had seeped out of your body like body oil and it fucking REEKED. Like it was impossible for this to happen. But at the same time it wasn't? Cause he's literally a political commentator. Oh shit this is real.
He laughed in disbelief. You were both in awe. You stood there, blank and still like your ass fucking froze like you computer sometimes when you signed in because of how overloaded and backed up it was from those Sims 3 files. You looked high key stupid.
"Really?" he said as he walked towards you.
"Bro what the fuck," was all you could say.
"Wow. So ATN, Y/N? Really. That's fucking low, dude. I never thought you were THAT familiar with the political climate of America, but I also didn't see you stooping down to work for literal Nazi sympathizers."
You turned and began walking back, not caring if he followed or not. You needed a moment to take it in. Okay. Okay....Okay cool now you took it in.
"Um, actually, Hasan, I work for Logan. And he's actually Scottish. How can a Scottish person be a Nazi?" you snapped, basking in your sudden femme fatale attitude, oh how you loved being a woman in the workplace!, "Anyway, mind your business just like I did yours."
"Fair enough," you two now stepped into the elevator. He leaned down to whisper, "Do you think Logan likes Zootopia just like you?"
The motherfucker was a rocket up your ass. Too bad he was still fine as fuck. But alas not all good things last forever...
You didn't give him the satisfaction of replying to him. You tried to make it seem like you were being the bigger, professional person, but in reality you had nothing to hit him back with. He was just too perfect honestly.
Now at the panel, Hasan took a seat by the anchor and the two began to fix themselves. They didn't speak one word to another - not even a hello. You cringed. This is awkward asf.
You hid behind the cameras in the corner, to yourself like a kid in timeout. Safe to say you were startled.
"Y/N, what is wrong with you?" Tom asked, now at your side.
You swallowed a pretty substantial wad of saliva, gulping pretty substantially. You said lowly, "Yeah. I am. That's my ex."
"I'm sorry, wait. Hasan Piker, the Twitch streamer, the little fingers dancing on a keyboard while his buttocks gets sores from sitting all day until time calls for his little occasional wee in his two million dollar home, whore-for-Bernie, communist masquerading as a socialist, Hasan Piker?" he seemed to enjoy this sudden news, relishing in its irony. You were not finding it as amusing as him. In fact, you started to see red at his apparent enjoyment. You felt that rosacea take over.
"Your wife cuck-holds you, Tom."
His face immediately fell. He walked away. It really did seem easy to make anyone in this fucking family insecure. Either that or it was another forte to add to your albeit short yet expansive list.
The moment they went live, you knew you didn't have that strength to stick around. It looks like your work was done. You ran out and felt tears well and stream down your face. Thank god you stole that Milk Hydro Grip Primer from Sephora, because this makeup was NOT coming off.
Everyone seemed to avoid you, and you liked it that way. There was nothing worse than this!
Oh god, everyone's gonna see me crying! Fuck! They're not gonna take me, a woman, seriously! you thought. You felt the early symptoms of a psychotic break linger. This was definitely not the time and place.
But there was no doubt about it - girl you were spiraling. Flashbacks that you thought your little brain worked to forget started to appear. You remembered the beyblade. You remembered his love for beyblades. You remembered being HIS beyblade...
You felt your breathing quicken. Your chest was tight. You knew you had to retreat somewhere - there was no stopping the rain after the lightning or whatever Lightning McQueen said.
"Hey, Y/N!"
You turn to see who grabbed your arm, ever so gently at that. Oh my god it's Kendall! He couldn't see you like this!
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Oh my god Kendall I can't no it's that I can't bro what even is that?!" you said through muffled mucus.
"Come here, let's get you out of the hallway," he pulled you into the women's bathroom and locked the door. You admired he didn't care for gender norms. He began to rub your shoulders in a soothing way trying to calm you down. There was something wrong with him being the one to console you, because typically you'd think it would be the other way around. But whatever another time.
"What's wrong, Y/N?"
You started to regulate your breathing. "Okay, so like," never mind you started hyperventilating again, "my ex, that Hasan guy. He's my ex! I just wasn't expecting him, you know?"
"Wow, okay," now he started to process the situation, "wow, he must've really fucking hurt you."
"Yeah, I have a permanent bump on my parietal lobe just to prove it!"
You then began to cry in his arms, he held you in that bathroom and you felt all your problems not go away exactly but for the moment it felt good. There was no way a MAN could fix your ass.
"Hey, listen," he had you face him, "fuck that guy. Okay? I can fucking, like, ruin his life for what he did. Why don't we, like, fucking bail? Okay? Let's go to lunch, we can fucking, I don't know, we can fucking eat açaí bowls or some shit. Whatever."
"Really? Like right now?"
"Yeah. I'm dead fucking serious."
"Oh my god Kendall you're like the best!"
A toilet then flushed. You both thought it best to bolt out of there before you came face to face with whoever was just minding their business to take a shit. No need to call HR here!
You both stepped into the JFK dream car, the chauffeur turned to ask Kendall where they were off to. You licked some of the fallen tears on your face. There was nothing that hit better than the salty brine of those tears on your weather-beaten face.
He turned to you, "What do you want to eat? It's up to you. Anything you want."
You turned to the window to think, watching the droplets beginning to slam at high speeds onto the glass. You then turned to him, feeling flirty and sensual all of a sudden, "I'd honestly really fuck up Oui yogurt -"
"Actually, buddy, can you drive us to Texas de Brazil?" Kendall said to the chauffeur. He nodded and began driving, occasionally going on the sidewalks to avoid that rush hour traffic. Evidently there was no fine that Kendall couldn't afford.
At the restaurant, it was literally just your regular Texas de Brazil. You personally weren't a fan, but you weren't going to tell Kendall no. Telling him no would send him into a spiral, an two spirals together are not good. You know what two people spiraling is? Yeah. Exactly that. It's two people spiraling.
Basically Texas de Brazil is where people go when they have too much money to spend on scraps of fucking meat. Like a vulture would absolutely go berserk. (Authors Note! If you've never been to Texas de Brazil, it's okay! It doesn't mean you're poor, it just means you're smart with your money!)
Kendall landed you two a sweet secluded spot directly in the middle of everything. Men with skewers stacked with meat were running away and offering it to every table. Frankly, it gave you anxiety like why are we running? The meat is not gonna go that cold fast like chill out. You're not getting paid enough for all that.
You and Kendall weren't able to speak too much as every time you tried to the men with skewers with unreadable faces were speed walking towards your table at full force, one after the other after the other.
Mama's getting overwhelmed...
They kept coming at all angles, not giving you a moment to breathe. In your peripheral, you saw them coming at you like fucking crazy. You wondered when it was the best time to let Kendall know you didn't eat red meat. It wasn't for religious reasons exactly, but it was because it made it difficult for you to shit. And since clearing your intestines was something of a spiritual practice, it could arguably be for those religious reasons.
"Ribeye?"
"Pork?"
"Sirloin?"
It's getting worse...
"Chicken Breast Wrapped in Bacon?"
"Filet Mignon Wrapped in Bacon?"
"Bacon?"
Mama's getting stressed....
"Ox tail?"
"Brazilian Sausage?"
"Lamb Chops?"
Mama's gonna blow.....
"Parmesan-Crusted Pork Loin?"
"Braised Beef Rib -"
"ENOUGH!" you finally shouted, hands on the sides of your head covering your ears, shaking, "STOP! NO MEANS NO! I KEEP TELLING YOU NO!!!!!".
The restaurant fell silent.
You opened your eyes as they were shut tight like gorilla glue. You peeked through, everyone stared at you blankly - you weren't just in the center of the restaurant but now the center of their world...
You and Kendall ended up leaving directly after that. He was pretty quick to get out of there. Now carless, you both walked the streets of New York. It was nighttime already. Neither of you had spoken yet to break the silence.
"I'm sorry about that, back there," you said, faintly smiling in embarrassment, "I just get overstimmied easily."
"It's okay," he chuckled, "actually I - I found it kind of hot. You know, like, telling them off?"
You felt yourself blush. He was for real a man who grew up without a mother figure.
"So where do you wanna eat now?" you asked. Your fat ass was still hungry.
"How about," he stopped on the sidewalk and you faced him. He had that delusional look in his eye. "How about we eat in like, real fucking America?"
"What do you mean Kenny Ken?"
"Like, I'm talking, you know, fucking, oily fries, injected hormone burgers, fucking - disgusting Sprite? Right, like? Type 2 diabetes on a fucking tray?"
"It sounds like you're talking about McDonald's."
"Yeah, sure whatever. Like, how about Outback? Huh? The fuck is that?" he started to chuckle a little manically with his goofy smile, it made you happy, "or like, P.F. Cheng's?"
"Well, if you want real America, we should go to a buffet!" Oh how you loved buffets. There was no rules, you could eat and eat as much as you want until you were bloated and backed up for days.
"So what like a fucking, uh, Golden Corral?"
"Jesus no," you gagged. The fuck was wrong with this man? He really needs guidance and you didn't mind being that for him. "Good heavens, no. Let's just stick to McDonald's, okay? If we were going to a buffet, I'd take you to Sweet Tomatoes."
"Well, why not? Let's go."
"We can't, cause an annoying fucking bitch named 'Covid' took her away. It wasn't just the lives of people that were lost."
"'Covid'?" Kendall asked, "I don't think that happened in Succession universe."
"What's 'Succession'?"
"I don't know. I guess I made it up. So McDonald's, then? Let's go!" He suddenly grabbed your hand and yanked you as he started running, you nearly tripped and tore your ACL. The last time you did that you busted your ass on a city bike in Miami Beach.
You two made your way to the nearest McDonald's using the directions on your new iPhone 8 Plus. You ordered your food, and unlike Texas de Brazil, at your own fucking pace. This was the only red meat you could eat and it went clean through. That oil and grease works magic!
You both had sat in the corner of the restaurant and had been deep on conversation. The ambience of McDonald's was very homey and nostalgic for you. The random beeping in the background was the best.
You were on your round 3 already, not your fault the burgers were small and didn't fill you up. You're still a growing girlie. Your favorite part were those little ketchup packets. They were so cute and small and red. It was your favorite thing that was red next to a tampon when you could afford them. Anyway dipping those skinny soggy fries in it was just the best! It was definitely your favorite activity, next to trimming your nails with scissor's, and after putting Kendall on, he agreed. You rarely shared that secret combo with anyone, so Kendall now knowing it meant that he was worth to know about the ketchup and fry crossover.
"Okay, so how about this," you took a great chomp outta your fry, "who's your problematic fave?"
"Hmm I don't know," he said, "Maybe my dad. What about yours?"
"Great answer! I think," you thought, but you really didn't need to think cause you already knew who, "Nicki."
"Khrushchev?"
"No, that's Nikita! Very close, though. I'm talking about Minaj. You know, Lewinsky. The Barbz. I don't blame you I get them confused too."
"I actually, uh, I actually really fucking like Nicki. No one else knows, but my favorite song from hers is Only, with her, Drake and Lil Wayne," he said as he munched on his own fries. It filled you with such joy to know he didn't credit the woman-beater in that sentence.
"Same! I love that song!"
"My favorite part is when Drake says, 'but I'm still staring at the titties though!'" he smiled after delivering the line. Had this been a frat bro, you would've (TW//purging) tried to voluntarily throw up your entire meal at his face because what the actual fuck was that. Your toes curled at the ick. But since it's Kendall, he always got a pass. He could kill a teenager and it'd be okay!
"Okay, what about your favorite song of ALL time?"
"Rich Girl by Gwen," he said, a little too quick. "But keep that between us, please. I put the Private Session option on my Spotify when I listen to it. It just empowers me before I make deals, you know? I just, like, blast her whole fucking discography in my huge bulky headphones. The JBL ones? Yeah, those. Her and Fergie. When I need a good like, fucking cry, I put Big Girls Don't Cry. It helps, my therapist says it's, like, a good way to let all the shit out, you know?"
"You know what you are Kendall?" you said, low but extremely flirtatious, "you're kinda cunt. Like, cunty. Like, you're Princess Diana was reincarnated." You bit your tongue like a white mom - now was a perfect time for it.
Kendall smiled softly but you knew he wanted to smile BIG. If he had rosacea like you he'd be beet fucking red. You loved seeing this loser flustered. "Well, Y/N, no. You're like, fucking my princess."
Your phone buzzed. It was a notification from Twitter. You clicked to open it and the link took you to a highlight from the debate with Hasan. It began playing loud, and thanks to Elon, the app began glitching and didn't allow you to get out of it.
"- and everything I do and say for my viewers is for the betterment of America." Hasan said.
"Well, didn't you wish for 9/11 to happen again?" said the anchor.
"Hey," Kendall placed his hand over your phone. You felt those tears well up again. "Turn it off, it's not worth it, okay? Hey, let's like - do you wanna, like, fucking hotbox or something?"
You shut your phone off. "Of course, Kendall. I'd love to hotbox with you. Let's go!"
You two left the McDonald's and Kendall was able to call his chauffeur. He told him that he needed to stand outside and wait for you and him to finish the hotboxing session in the car. The chauffeur simply said 'okay' and sat on a bench while the SUV was in park on the side of the busy New Yorkan road.
You and Kendall sat in the front seat, he pulled out his pen (the weed one) and began to take big ass, very long hits. He passed it over to you and you did the same, the smoke filling up the car and making it reek.
"So when are we going to hotbox?" you asked, voice barely hanging on from it's effects.
"Well, uh, what do you mean? We're hotboxing right now?"
You were confused. "I mean, usually when I hotbox it gets pretty smelly. Stinky maybe." He still didn't seem to understand what you were saying. He looked concerned as his eyes were swollen red and he honestly probably forgot who you were for a second.
"Huh?"
"My farts? I've been told it gives the same high. For the brief period I was homeless, before my girl Willa picked me off the streets, I got paid to hotbox cars. There's no real way of escaping it now. It's gonna come. Usually I don't eat red meat, so when I do I get pretty gassy."
He continued to look at you blankly. You were getting kinda uncomfortable for a minute as you were taking your own hits.
"Do you wanna go to the back?" he finally said, immediately regretting it. "Sorry for being, uh forward as fuck. But, like, I like walking when I'm high, I actually like going to the beach or any body of water when I'm fucked up, but -"
You put your finger to his lips, a little harder than either of you anticipated. "It's okay Kendall, you don't have to explain. Let's hit that back." You began to climb over to the backseat, accidentally flashing New York you pantiless bottom and kneeing Kendall in the face. You forgot you were wearing a business-themed skirt cause it's work appropriate, but your laced Victoria's Secret thong that you stole during your homeless era.
He climbed after you. You two sat and stared at one another for several moments, having temporary amnesia as you forgot why you went to the back in the first place.
"Y/N, can you be, like, my fucking assistant? I need help, uh, assisting."
"Oh my god, yes Kendall! That's like, my forte!" You jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard leather seats and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your business skirt clean off, and started kissing your labia.
"This...this is a fucking, uh, labia," he says.
You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Manhattan Financial District in. This is it. No Excel spreadsheet, no Texas de Brazil waiters, no Elf on the Shelf, no annoying Jordan Belfort sympathizers/incels, nothing - just you and Kendall.
Thank god for illegally tinted windows!
Hope you enjoyed!
xoxo,
~Sam St. Clair
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hello I saw this and i was reminded of my humans are weird/ humans are space orcs/ earth is a death world/ earth is australia phase here on tumblr, so since humans can to some degree mimic certain sounds how would some of the twist guys react to mc mimicking their non-verbal language, like for example since crewel's a weredalmatian, yuu can replicate his barks and growls, not knowing that half of what crewel was saying are swear words
As someone who has a habit of mimicking animal and non-animal sounds, I felt this in my soul. 😂
Before we get into that though, I gotta say that I adore the “humans are weird/humans are space orcs/etc” trope! :D In fact, that was part of the inspiration for the posts on Cater’s “Humans are Weird” Magicam account!
Okay, okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on with the fun stuff~! ÒwÓ For funsies, let’s have them react to Yuu and mini!Yuu being the little human mimics they are. >w< Keep in mind that this is just a suggestion—you guys can also come up with your own scenarios for such a situation! 0v0
////----------////
Yuu:
The discovery happened during PE class, and there happened to be a joint class between the grades. Given the fact that they were surrounded by an almost literal zoo of monsters for students, Yuu was hearing a lot of animalistic sounds coming from their fellow classmates. While unnerving to hear the more dangerous ones being so close to them, Yuu couldn’t help but focus on each sound: the inflections, the duration, the pitch…all of it. They could feel the urge to try and replicate them rising—to see if they could do it.
When they heard one particular growl that ended with a bark from a passing student that looked their way—however—they couldn’t help but repeat the sound back. It wasn’t as deep, but they’d managed to get the length and inflection right!
“What the fuck-?!”
Apparently a little too well, as the outburst had drawn the attention of everyone. Had Yuu known what some of them had been saying the whole time?! Were they planning on blackmailing them?! It took Coach Vargas asking Yuu to explain what happened before it sank in that no, they couldn’t understand the sounds they heard—but they could mimic them well enough!
The rest of the day was spent with the first years testing Yuu to see how many sounds they could make, ranging from growls and hisses to chirps and squawks or barks and meows. It wasn’t until one particular class with Professor Trein that they made a high-pitched ‘meh!’ sound like a kitten that Lucius came running, the matagot yowling and swatting at the student who just so happened to be near Yuu (‘F’ in chat for Ace’s hand). After that incident, Yuu was enrolled in the Animal Linguistics class to not only help them understand everything, but to test and improve their mimicry skills.
Needless to say, the researchers had a field day studying this behavior and testing out human vocal ranges. If Yuu just so happens to know how to use their false vocal cords to create the overtone effect, this will open up so many research opportunities!
////---------////
Mini!Yuu:
The class was full of busy students working on their potions, Crewel monitoring them with a stern look while occasionally glancing over at the playpen set up in the corner close to his desk. Inside the pen, little Yuu was happily playing with the variety of toys and coloring books the staff gave them. Anyone watching would notice how Yuu was putting stuff in a bucket, their face one of pure concentration as they looked between the students closest to them and their ‘ingredients’. When a puff of colored smoke erupted from someone’s cauldron, their little hands wiggled over the bucket—as though performing a spell—before throwing their arms with a chirp of, “Poof!”
More than one student uttered a quiet “Aw!” in response.
“Alright, pups. Take the laurel berries and mix five grams of dusk-weed,” Crewel instructed. “Next, you will-”
While he spoke, Yuu was watching intently as the students closest to them were adding the ingredients to the mixture. One of the students—a canine-like monster—accidentally bumped his elbow against the edge and let out a yelp of pain. Almost immediately his partner and the professor were there checking on him, Yuu tilting their head in thought. They were having fun, yes, but…it was lonely playing by themselves. But if the teacher and the student’s friend came when he made that sound…what if they tried?
“You’ll be fine,” Crewel uttered in annoyance over a minor bump though relieved it wasn’t a burn. “Next time, don’t-”
“Yip!”
Multiple heads turned at the sound of distress, Crewel immediately bolting over to the pen and leaning over to examine the toddler. When he didn’t see any sign of injury or distress, he knelt down and asked, “What is it, pup? Are you hurt?”
“I wanna play too!” Yuu chirped, a wide smile on their face as they bounced on their feet. “Yip! Yip!”
Ears twitching, Crewel said, “Puppy…that sound is meant for when you’re hurt, not for when you want to play. I thought you were hurt!” At that Yuu looked confused and lowered their head from the scolding. “…the next time you wish to ask someone to play with you, this is the sound you make.” He made a warbling growl-like bark sound, Yuu perking up and listening intently before repeating the sound back. “Good puppy!”
“Play time?” they asked excitedly.
“Class is almost over. If you can be a good little puppy and wait just a little longer, we’ll find a game to play together.”
“Okay!”
It was after class was over and Yuu was put down for a nap that Crewel was able to mark down this latest development. Nearby were a few students who were sitting at their desks writing letters, nervously glancing over at the sleeping toddler and quickly turning back to their papers when Crewel shot them a withering look. Satisfied, he finished writing his notes:
It has been discovered that Yuu has the ability to copy the sounds that they hear from the other students. Does not appear to understand what they mean unless told, and may begin to use them to gain attention. Will have to test and see the extent of this ability. However…
Severe punishment will be given to ensure students do not verbally or non-verbally communicate curses and insults around Yuu…again.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland monster au#twst monster au#divus crewel#ashton vargas#twst divus#twst vargas#twisted wonderland Yuu#twisted wonderland mini!Yuu
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am i the asshole for purposefully fucking up the world my creator built?
i (ageless, M? NB? i cant remember) used to work in a regular office building. or that’s what i thought. one day, i came into work and something felt incredibly off about myself and my coworkers. i realized i was breaking out of my daily routine and my coworkers were starting to get upset as i was acting irrationally. eventually i got most of my work equipment confiscated save for one singluar pencil sharpener (AND NO PENCILS TO SHARPEN?? I REALLY WANTED ONE.)
it turns out, me and everyone else in that building was being mind controlled and as an experiment the people up top set me free of the mind control to see what would happen. needless to say, i sort of lost of mind having the full bounds of reality dumped on me like that. eventually, and i don’t really remember how this happened, i disappeared.
then, things get weirder. i learn that the entire office was never real in the first place, and the entire thing was thought up by this omnipresent voice, my creator (ageless, M) as a fun little experiment. then, he decided to have more fun with it and deleted every single person in the office building except for one, 427 (probably early 30s, M). my creator has NO IDEA i’m still out here either.
my creator has then been coaxing 427 out of his office and attempting to lead him through a story of learning the truth and escaping the building. 427 went along with this, like, one time, before being sent back to the office and then not doing what my creator tells him to. my creator will follow along verbally and walk him through whatever weird stuff he’s doing before sending him back to the office when there’s nothing else for him to do.
here’s where i might be TA. every time 427 has been sent back to his office i’ve been appearing in white text on his computer monitor and asking him to give me the current time and some other fun information about himself (i am bored and this keeps me busy.) my creator did not know about this. recently, i was finally able to show him what the office would look like tens of thousands of years in the future, where my creator would be long gone and unable to reach us at all. there, i used an abandoned monitor screen to rag on my creator a little and offer to let him make minor altercations to the world my creator made (which, by the way, is also a video game, and he was being a stupid purist about it.)
i hold a lot against my creator for allowing those people to mind control me and then deleting all of my coworkers and forgetting about me entirely. 427 puts way too much blind faith into him and he got sent back to the office after i showed him that anyway so it doesn’t like. really matter.
aita?
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does it hurt?
title: does it hurt?
pairing: pierced!jungkook x injured!reader
genre: just fluff, a little angst, high school,
wc: 1,627
warnings: awkward hugging, oc is awkward, jungkook is kinda weird, one mention of cancer, unedited again (come on i don't even edit my essays)
note: adapted from this manhwa bc i can't stop seeing jungkook as the main lead. also i miss jungkook's piercings so here we go.
summary: in which you ask the infamous jeon jungkook if his piercings hurt when you accidentally touched them.
While everyone saw Jeon Jungkook as a social reject and a good-for-nothing student, you saw him as a mystery.
He was hanging around with the wrong crowd, they were known for getting wasted and high at the back of the school. He had multiple piercings in his ear, a steel rod on his brow, and a lip ring on his ridiculously plush red lips for someone who smoked a lot. Everybody knows he was dangerously beautiful. But it was the rumors that kept him meters away from everyone.
Although in the same year, you never crossed paths with Jungkook. You were too busy perfecting your records, making sure that you get to go to college on an athletic scholarship.
That was until junior year.
You have been stuck in a cast for a week now, having to use crutches as you walk. There has been an accident that included falling and breaking your leg that left you in this situation. You were scared and angry that it would affect your life plans but what can you do? Nothing. It’s better not to be focused on your emotions and just carry on.
That would be easy to do if it weren’t such a pain having to fucking walk home from the hospital.
Sighing, you decide to take a breather and sit down on one of the benches in the garden.
You plop down your body on the wooden bench with a groan and gather your crutches together on your side, making them lean on the bench. Thankfully, the weather was nice. It was cloudy and the wind was cool. The blazer of your school uniform wasn’t too hot to be in like some days. Still, maybe you should’ve brought spare clothes for the check-up.
There weren’t many patients or visitors hanging around either. Needless to say, it was a good idea to sit down before having to walk around with barely working legs.
You rest your back, tilting your head upwards to the sky with your eyes closed. You take a deep breath, taking in the fresh air provided by the nature around you.
Ah. This is so—
“You go to Hybe High?”
Your eyes snap open when something blocks the sunlight seeping through your eyelids. The action reveals an upside-down face just a few inches away from yours, making your eyes widen in shock. Still, you were unable to move away, suddenly scared and reminded of the rumors about the boy in front of you.
The face was too familiar for you not to know who he is. Jeon Jungkook, you weren’t in the same classes with him but he was currently in the same year with you as he was held back once.
From afar, his face and ears were covered with multiple piercings, making him look intimidating and tough. And he was exactly that. You heard of him hanging out with the boys who wanted nothing to do with learning. They would skip classes and hang around smoking at the back of buildings and if not, they’d jump over walls to get out of the campus and spend time somewhere more fun.
They exude fear and respect from everyone they walk past. But behind them, people were laughing, saying they were too troubled and stupid for high school. In short, they don’t really have the best reputation on campus.
But looking at him closely as his face is over yours, you realize how pretty and big his eyes are. Beneath all the steel adorning his face, he was actually adorable. In fact, if he didn’t have all that piercing, he would probably be famous for being a pretty boy.
There was still something so attractive with the way the piercings complemented his face. He still looked pretty, but way cooler.
At that moment, you realized how beautiful Jeon Jungkook is.
“Hey!” He scolds.
You snap back to reality when he snaps his fingers in front of your face. Embarrassed for zoning out while staring at his face, you scoot away from him in a swift motion.
You land on the other side of the bench, cheeks blushing and eyes avoiding his gaze as you sit down with your back as straight as your hands on your lap.
“I am. From Hybe.” You answer finally.
“Hm.” That’s all he reacts.
When you gain the courage to look at him again, he was still behind the bench with his hands inside his pockets. He stands leaning on one foot, giving you a sly smirk as he back stares at you.
How is he so attractive?
You watch as he walks over and sits beside you. Since your crutches were at the other edge of the bench, the only space was the middle part where you previously sat. He sits there with a sigh and then turns to look at you.
“You’re that Taekwondo girl that fell from the second floor, right?” He asks.
You don’t answer the question, thinking it was pretty obvious anyway. Plus, you don’t know why but you feel nervous around this boy.
“Hm. I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.” He sighs again and rubs his thighs with his palms.
You just stare at him again. He has sighed two times now and he looks a bit anxious but is trying to hide it. What was he doing here anyway?
“You can ask.” He suddenly speaks. In contrast to his smirk earlier, he gives you well-meaning smile. He crosses his arms on his chest.
“What?” You ask, confused about what he was going for.
“You can ask why I’m here.” He repeats with an explanation this time.
“Okay, why are you here?” You hesitate, wondering if you really can even if he has given you permission. You didn’t really want to pry especially since this is the first time you’ve talked to him. But you do so anyway.
“My grandma. She’s being confined here. They suspect it’s cancer.” He says like it’s no big deal.
You take a moment before you react. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
He takes a deep breath and releases with a loud “Aaah. Don’t be.”
There was silence in the air for a few minutes. You don’t dare to speak because you don’t even know how to comfort him or if you even have to. Does he want that?
You were still thinking about your next move when a head plops on your shoulder. All the goosebumps rise from your body as you can hear Jungkook’s breathing in close proximity.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “Can I hug you? You can say no.”
There was vulnerability with him that you hadn’t heard of before and you ask yourself why you have to be the one here to witness it. As you look at him closely, you see how his forehead was crunched even with his eyes closed. He looked tired and distressed. With that, you had already made up your mind.
Besides, you kind of need a hug too.
“Yeah.” You respond.
As soon as you say it, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, the same hand from that arm reaching and resting your other shoulder. His face was now beside your head and you can hear his breathing by your ear. His other arm was just limply laying on his side.
It wasn’t really the hug you expected, but you guess that as long as it works for him it’s fine. It wasn’t uncomfortable to you anyway.
“Thank you.” He mumbles again.
“Am I doing a good job at comforting you?” You tease. You can’t believe yourself. Are you really joking around with The Jeon Jungkook?
He chuckles and you can feel it on your neck. “You could do a little bit better.” He teases back.
His other hand reaches for yours which was still on your lap. His hand stops mid-air, not really touching your hand. “May I?”
You weren’t really sure what he was asking for but you nod anyway.
He grapes your right hand in his and brings it over to the side of his face. “This would be better.” He whispers in a low voice and makes your hand caress his face.
You let it happen.
He was a stranger just fifteen minutes ago–just a man from the whispers you’ve heard in the classroom halls. Now, he has his arm wrapped around you in a side hug as you caress his hair and face with your hand in an attempt to comfort him.
When your fingers brush over a slight cold apparatus on his ear, you flinch.
“Oh, sorry. Was that your piercing? Does it hurt?” You ask, now looking at his face again.
His hand flies to your hand again, holding it in place. His thumb caresses your palm.
“It’s fine.” He assures you.
He lets go of your hand and leaves it hanging by his face. Then, he turns his face and shows you his ear. After that, he begins playing with the silver earring on the upper part of his ear. If you weren’t wrong, it’s called the helix or orbital, whichever is lower.
He pushes the earring from behind with his thumb and presses it back with his forefinger, you could see the tiny rod from this action. You smile, finding it cute as he shows it to you enthusiastically.
“See? It doesn’t hurt at all.”
He gets your hand again and places it back on him.
“So you can keep on going. It feels nice.” And so you did.
The two of you sat there quietly, letting the newfound warmth speak for itself.
And that was your first encounter with Jeon Jungkook, someone who would then become an equation in your life that you can’t just solve.
© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. thank you.
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#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenario#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfiction#bts drabble#bts fluff#jungkook x y/n#jungkook high school
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Starman
Chapter 1
If you would’ve asked Nico where he saw himself in the future 5 years ago, he most likely would have answered anywhere but where he was right now. He probably would've told you that he’d be in his senior year of high school, that Bianca would be off to college, or maybe working in their mothers store. He would probably secretly hope that his dad would come back. But alas, none of that came true.
Instead here he was. An orphan with a dead sister and a deadbeat dad who had only ever been in his life when he was a kid. He hadn’t even come to Bianca or Marias funeral, and when the state asked if Nico had any living relatives, he hadn’t even thought of his dad. Well, maybe a little bit, but that was no one's business but his own.
So he had been shipped off to live with his half sister, who he had never even met, and didn't even know existed. They shared a father, but that seemed to be the only thing they had in common.
Hazel Levesque was 15, and apparently their dad had abandoned her and her mom the same way he had abandoned the di Angelos. Her mom seemed to be a bit of a nutcase. She insisted Nico call her mom (weird) and he was forbidden to ask anything about his father (weirder). Needless to say Nico hadn't really found his place with the Levesque’s.
Hazel spent most days in school, and the others out with her boyfriend Frank. Frank did not seem to like Nico at all, and therefore the feeling became mutual.
The accident happened in February. In the middle of the school year. Nico had been so busy with the grieving, funerals, and the move to America and the Levesque’s that he’d missed the rest of his junior year, and now he was going to have to retake it at Hazels school.
Hazel’s mom, Marie, had insisted that he retake his junior year, much to Nicos dismay. He was going to drop out, and as an almost 18 year old he refused, and claimed she had no right to determine what he was going to do, thank you very much. Turns out he was wrong.
Marie had dropped off Hazel and Nico at New Orleans Dam High School. The name was a mouthful, and some genius student seemed to have realized that, and had spray painted over New Orleans, and added an N to Dam, leaving only Damn High School. Nico chuckled at that and earned himself an angry glare from Marie. Whatever. It wasn't like he cared about what she thought. (She had absolutely hated him from the moment he’d moved in. Something about a 17 year old smoking had pissed her off, and she had never gotten over it.)
They made their way to the front office to get Nico squared away. He felt like everyone glared at him, and the lady at the desk handed him his schedule without even glancing at him. Great! This was going to be an awesome day!
Hazel rushed off the second Marie left. Probably to hang out with Frank or Rey- whatever her name was, or any of her other friends, so Nico was left alone.
The bell rang, signaling for everyone to get to their classrooms, and as Nico looked down at his schedule he sighed. How the fuck was he supposed to know where classroom EG956 was.
The corridors quickly emptied, and Nico was left to wander around the four storied school for ten minutes before he gave up, and made his way out to the bleachers to fish out a cigarette from the pack in his jeans. He only had four left, and made a mental note to get more from the corner store Marie had made him get a job at. Maria di Angelo would never make him do anything. She cared about him, and didn’t give a shit if he smoked.
“Se lo faccio da solo non ho il diritto di fermarti", she'd always said with a sly grin. If I do it myself I have no right to stop you. Nico smiled at the memory as he lit his cigarette. Man, he missed her so much. Bianca however had cared that he smoked. She insisted that he was going to face a premature death. Oh the irony.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out there for, dreaming of his past life. It felt like 70 years ago, but it had only been a few months. Somewhere far away a bell rang, signaling that class was over. He was startled back to reality by a soft voice.
He looked up from where he was sitting to see a blond dude, wearing an orange shirt under a green flannel. He wore a concerned expression, and the brightest blue eyes Nico had ever seen. He looked like a ray of sun, and Nico was sure that if he came any closer he would get burned. The boy radiated warmth.
SunBoy, as Nico resorted to calling him in his mind, raised an eyebrow at him and Nico realized that he’d completely missed what he had said. He was going to say something stupid like ´huh`, but before he could embarrass himself the other boy repeated himself.
“You’re not allowed to smoke on school grounds, you know.”
“You gonna tattle on me?” Nico retorted. Damn him and his lack of impulse control. SunBoy looked startled, as if no one had ever talked to him like that before. Maybe they hadn't. Maybe people were afraid of getting burned.
“N-no,” SunBoy answered before regaining control of his voice “I’m just saying, if a teacher, or god forbid one of the football players, catch you, you're dead.” He dropped his clearly faked strong guy demeanor and gave Nico a warm smile. “And I don't feel like patching you up.”
He held out his hand. “I’m Will. Will Solace. Are you new? I don't think I’ve seen you around, and I know most people here.”
Nico realized he was supposed to shake the blonde's hand, and did so, albeit reluctantly.
“Nico.” He replied. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He wasn’t used to anybody but his family paying attention to him, so he just said the first thing that popped into his mind.
“Do you know where classroom EG956 is? I was supposed to have class there but I couldn't find it.” Will’s smile got impossibly bigger.
“I get it. You’re alone at a new school and don’t know anybody, so you can't ask anyone about where to go” Nico hesitated for a second before answering
“I’m here with my half sister, Hazel, but she left me the second we got here.”
“Hazel Levesque?! She’s a year under me, we’ve talked a few times, and she seems really nice, tough shell though.” He laughed, and Nico gave him a small smile back. Will quickly continued, “Where’s your next class? I’ll show you the way, I know this school inside and out”
And so Nico made his first friend in America. Once they had compared schedules to see if they had any classes together (chemistry, Thursdays and Fridays), Will walked him to his classroom and promised to wait for him in the cafeteria afterwards.
Nico was excited at the prospect of having a new friend. Back home in Italy, Bianca had really been his only friend. Something about the autistic-mythomagic obsessed-loser had not attracted many friends, and Nico was fine with that, because he could tell Bianca everything. Maybe Will could be that kind of friend.
His history lesson flashed by as the teacher told the students what they were going to do this year. Apparently the first project was Greek mythology, something Nico already knew heaps about.
As the bell rang, Nico grabbed his letterman bag and flight jacket, and headed out the door. After a few minutes of navigating he made it to the cafeteria, where he found Will sitting next to two boys that must be brothers, a blond dude, and a shorter guy, who was sitting on the table and gesturing wildly with his hands. Will noticed Nico from across the room and gladly waved him over.
“Nico! Hi! These are the guys, that’s Travis and Connor,” he gestured at the two boys who looked identical. They must be brothers, right?
“That's Luke” the blond guy gave him a wave
“And that's Leo, guys, this is Nico!” The boy who had been sitting on the table, Leo, jumped down and quickly embraced Nico, who froze. He was NOT used to strangers hugging him. Thankfully Leo noticed his awkwardness and let go, joining the other boys at the table.
“Sorry man,” he said “I’m a hugger, I should’ve asked before, but Solace has been rambling on about you since we got here and I feel like we’re already pals.” Nico smiled at him and sat down.
“Don’t worry about it.” He looked around the room.
It was full of students, but it didn’t take long before his gaze caught Hazels. She raised an eyebrow at him, but quickly joined in that conversation at her table.
Nico quickly fell into chatter with the boys, and he even found himself laughing out loud at something Travis said once or twice. Maybe this was going to be okay, he thought to himself, maybe he could make do here.
Marie had picked up Hazel and Nico after school, and after an awkward dinner Nico found himself in what he was finally starting to consider his room. His phone buzzed with a text from Hazel, who in the six months he’d lived here, had only texted him twice.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Hazel
i saw you hanging out with luke
hes bad news
Nico
So now you care?
Hazel
oh dont be like that
youre my brother
Nico
Half brother
Hazel
so what? im not allowed to care?
Nico
Not when you've ignored me since I got here
Hazel
im not used to siblings. sorry
Nico
Okay
Hazel
its just
hes not been the nicest to one of my friends
Nico
Okay
Hazel
no really nico, be careful
he really hurt annabeth
Nico
I really don’t feel like getting into your friends boy drama
Hazel
do you have to be like that?
just
sit with us tomorrow
Nico
Alright. I’ll give it a try
Hazel
yay! ill tell the guys!
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Nico put down his phone and sighed. He couldn't wrap his head around why Hazel had switched on him so quickly. Tomorrow was going to be a mess.
#starmanhighschoolau#percy jackson#percy pjo#solangelo#nico di angelo#will solace#percy jackson au#percy jackson fanfiction#OOC#will loves nico#nico loves will#gay#lgbt#slowburn#friends to lovers#mutual pining#jealousy#jealous will solace#hazel levesque#frank zhang#bianca di angelo#luke castellan#connor stoll#travis stoll#fluff and angst#leo valdez#annabeth chase#pjo books#pjo
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real gods require blood
18+ | Eddie x Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve Harrington is your boyfriend and life couldn't be better. It could, however, be freakier. Eddie Munson introduces you to his kinky ways and neither of you recover.
Or, you get caught fucking in Eddie's trailer and he makes you pay.
Warnings: this is an ongoing fic, will be posting and linking chapters as i go - find more chapters on my ao3 kinks: dom!eddie, switch!steve, sub!reader, praise, general themes of bdsm, voyeurism/exhibitionism
Word count: 3.6k
chapter two
“Eddie… God! F-fuck right there.”
You were grasping blindly at long locks of dark hair. Pulling, pushing, tightening your thighs. Using all the strength you could muster to keep his tongue against your skin. Against all your protests, the pleasure abruptly ended. You whined, unable to hide your overwhelming disappointment as your orgasm slipped away.
“Eddie! Please… Why did you stop?” You could hear the pathetic whine in your tone but you didn’t care.
“This is how I like you, baby. Needy,” He crawled up your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake, “You hear how pretty she moans for me, Stevie?”
A month ago, you would’ve laughed till you cried if someone had merely suggested that you’d be under Eddie Munson. Let alone with Steve, your dutiful and caring boyfriend, handcuffed naked to a chair watching. You would’ve had good cause. Eddie was the town freak, an outcast. But since Steve had gotten closer with Dustin, things had gotten weird. And now here you were, panting beneath another man and more turned on than you’d ever been in your life.
It started on a Saturday. That fateful Saturday. You and Steve hadn’t had alone time in a while. He’d been working double weekend shifts at Family Video, and you’d been busy helping Nancy edit The Weekly Streak on school nights. Needless to say, you were both jonesing when you finally managed to reunite. To be blunt, you were ready to jump his bones. And you were about to until Dustin rang the doorbell, calling in a favor. And then, instead of riding your stunning boyfriend, you were riding shotgun.
“Left up here. Left!” Dustin bossed from the backseat.
“Okay, Henderson, I got it!” Steve yelled back, jerking the car around a corner and not appreciating the haphazard directions.
The road gradually became a track and you realized you were pulling into Forest Hills.
“Are you meeting up with Max?” You questioned Dustin, wondering why this gathering demanded such urgency that he had to bother Steve for help.
“No...” Dustin drew out the vowel, sounding oddly suspicious.
“Henderson.” Steve’s tone hardened, like a father scolding his child, “You tell me what you’re doing here or I’m not letting you out of this car.”
The curly-haired boy was quiet for a beat and then spoke, “I’m seeing Eddie.”
Steve slammed on the brakes, causing the three of you to jerk forward dramatically.
“No.”
“Steve!”
“Uh-uh.”
“Steve, let me out!”
“No way.”
“Eddie Munson?” You glanced at Steve.
He was already looking at you, eyebrows raised in concern, causing cute wrinkles on his forehead.
“Please, Steve! He’s just helping me plan D&D sessions!”
“Awww.” You were momentarily wooed by the sincerity of Dustin’s nerdiness.
Steve sighed and shook his head, “Are you going there alone?”
Dustin sheepishly nodded.
“Dustin!” You and Steve scolded him in unison.
You leaned into Steve, whispering, “Don’t you buy weed off Eddie?”
“Yeah, we can’t leave Henderson alone with him.”
“Steve! I can hear you.”
“Shush, we’re coming with you. And that’s final.”
So Steve started the car back up and pulled into Eddie’s trailer drive. It was awkward and silent as you traipsed up to his door. Dustin enthusiastically led the pack. Steve’s arm slung protectively over your shoulder. You grasped at his fingertips, not satisfied with the sliver of skin-to-skin contact.
“Hey, look who it is!” The door swung open, and a mass of floppy hair and dark clothes flew at Dustin, enveloping him in a hug - much to Dustin’s delight.
Eddie drew back, a huge smile on his face. It faltered for a moment as his gaze fell upon you and Steve, but resumed.
“I see you brought company. Harrington.” He curtly nodded at Steve but sauntered towards you, clearly taking an interest, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Eddie extended his hand.
You couldn’t help but eye the silver rings that adorned several of his fingers. You hadn’t actually met Eddie, not this close anyway. He was cute under all that hair, and his smile was annoyingly infectious. Steve stepped forward, deliberately putting space between you both.
“My girlfriend and I will be joining your little game. Hope you don’t mind.” Steve’s tone was prickly.
“I don’t mind at all.” Eddie seemed unphased at the hostility and retreated back past the threshold, inviting you all inside with a flourish of his hand.
You weren’t entirely sure what to expect from Eddie’s trailer, but you weren’t surprised upon entering. It was grey and outdated but still managed to be homely despite the beer bottles and takeaway boxes littering every inch of counter space. An array of trucker hats lined one wall of the living room, making for an interesting centerpiece. Books and tapes were haphazardly stacked on rickety shelves. A single armchair faced the small TV set.
Metal music you didn’t recognize was playing from a stereo, contrasting drastically with the childish paraphernalia covering the majority of the carpet. It seemed like Eddie had gone to great lengths to set up a makeshift map and miniatures on the living room floor. It was sweet, really. You relaxed a little. Maybe the bad boy wasn’t so bad. Dustin seemed to trust him, which settled your nerves even more. Dustin’s face had lit up and he was grinning ear to ear. They settled immediately on the floor, oblivious to chaperones in the face of D&D.
You tugged at Steve’s hand, instantly bored and craving his attention. His arm slid down your back, caressing it slightly and holding you tight. Steve was touching you but you were still hungering for him. All of him. He kissed your cheek sweetly and then your lips. He reserved his display of affection and glanced over your shoulder cautiously. However, Eddie and Dustin were engrossed in their discussion, paying you no mind.
“Can I grab some…?” Steve didn’t need to finish his sentence, Eddie wasn’t listening and didn’t care. His conversation with Dustin continued enthusiastically.
“Steve. Let’s go to your car.” You murmured into his chest, begging for something, anything, to be done so that you could be alone together.
“Babe, we can’t, I’m not leaving Henderson alone with a drug dealer. Let’s just go back there or something.” Steve spoke under his breath to you but then loudly proclaimed, “We’re just gonna…” To no acknowledgment from the others.
He shrugged his shoulders and took your hand, leading you through the depths of the trailer. You nosily explored, opening one door to a cramped bathroom and another to what was clearly Eddie’s bedroom. Metal band posters covered almost every inch of wall space. A gorgeous black guitar hung against a mirror, clearly a pride and joy. You wouldn’t admit it, but you savored poking through Eddie’s possessions. It was like peeling back a facade to reveal the person behind the armor. And this Eddie wasn’t that scary. This Eddie loved music and weird board games and chunky jewelry. You toyed with some rings on his chest of drawers, admiring the intricate designs.
Something small hit your head and you flinched. You turned to see Steve grinning at you. The offender, a wrapped condom, lay at your feet.
“Gross, Steve!” You scolded him in hushed tones but giggled anyway.
“What? The dude is freaky.”
You wandered closer, uncovering something else rather interesting hanging off one of Eddie’s bedposts. Handcuffs. This man had handcuffs in his bedroom.
“Maybe his uncle was a cop?” Steve suggested with a childlike naivety.
“No, Steve…”
You slung the handcuffs around your finger, hula-ing them next to your head and wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. The penny dropped. Steve was scandalized, wide-eyed at the contraption.
“Have you ever used them?” He inquired as he drew closer to you.
“No,” You paused, almost wanting to continue with a ‘but…’
“Me either.” He clarified quickly. However, intrigue was evident on his face.
One of his eyebrows was raised higher than the other and his full pink lips were slightly parted. That smug look was enough to have you whimpering and he wasn’t even touching you. It was as if he was dreaming up scenarios the handcuffs could unlock. Sinful, perverted scenarios. You were sure your own imagination was giving his a run for its money.
A thread snapped in Steve. Blame it on raging hormones or how you were gazing up at him through your eyelashes, but he was not willing to wait another second. In one swift movement, he grabbed your hand and twirled you around so your back was flush against his torso. Steve had trained you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. The hickies he’d scatter across your skin had gotten you in trouble far too many times, but you were addicted to seeing the evidence that he'd touched you. Steve got his kicks from seeing you covered in marks, asserting who you belonged to. It had been so long since you’d fucked that the lovebites he’d dutifully left had faded, and Steve wouldn’t stand for that.
His lips were warm and welcome against your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed and you became pliant underneath his touch. You were safe with Steve. You silently thanked Eddie for blasting music every hour of the day otherwise your moans would've blown your cover in an instant. Steve loved hearing you and would normally encourage it, but with a drug dealer and his pre-pubescent friend in the other room, he had to sacrifice your pretty sounds. He caressed your cheek and slipped two fingers into your mouth in an attempt to muffle you.
It didn’t really work. You were so turned on that your brain had almost ceased to function. Steve chuckled lowly at your soft whines. He could feel the effect he had on you and he relished in it. But Steve needed this, he needed you. So he had to keep you quiet in the only reliable way he knew how. He spun you once more and caught your lips in a passionate kiss. You threw your arms around his neck and pinned him close. You couldn’t help but grind your hips against his, closing the gap between your bodies, desperately chasing pleasure. Steve broke away from your lips, somewhat reluctantly, and pressed his forehead against yours, panting.
He growled, “Babe…”
“Hmm?”
“You’re killing me.”
Steve’s erection strained through his jeans. You were beyond caring about politeness or even common decency. There was a bed, and you wanted Steve on it.
“Steve?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck me. Now.”
Steve licked his lips, you could see his brain whirring as he weighed his options. You were nodding in encouragement and running your fingers through his soft hair. He started nodding with you, slowly at first and then more urgently, deciding once and for all. You tore off your long-sleeve against all better judgment, practically frothing at the mouth as you watched Steve peel off his layers. A tiny part of your subconscious was turned on at thought of getting caught, but you decided to ignore it.
In seconds you were both half-naked and rolling around on Eddie’s sheets. You were straddling Steve in your panties, caressing every inch of his tan skin you could find. He was painfully hard underneath you, barely contained by his boxers. Your hand trailed down Steve’s torso, pining to feel him after so long. But just before you could feel the relief of your fingers around him, a sharp voice rang out.
“What are you sick fucks doing in my bedroom?”
You squealed in sheer terror and fumbled with your hands to cover your bare skin. Steve leaped out of the bed, scrambling to find his clothes. Eddie let you both stumble over your words for a moment before cracking a smile and laughing at your mortified faces.
“Just kidding. Don’t stop on my account.”
Eddie studied your cowering frame. Something told you that he was entirely serious when he invited you both to continue. You clasped at sheets clumsily to hide your body, but your breathing shallowed as you couldn’t resist returning Eddie’s lingering gaze.
“Stop staring at my girlfriend, asshole,” Steve grunted.
It wasn’t clear if he was more annoyed that Eddie was getting an eyeful or that you’d been interrupted. Either way, Steve wasn’t intimidating, tripping over his feet whilst trying to pull up his Levi’s.
“You don’t have to leave.” Eddie hadn't looked away from you.
“Oh, we’re going. Don’t you worry, Munson.”
Eddie switched his scrutiny to Steve, emphasizing his sincerity, “I’m serious, I don’t mind watching.”
“Dude, get real.”
“You’re the ones getting frisky in my bedroom,” Eddie retorted, holding his hands up in mock innocence, but making no effort to conceal his amusement, “You’re pretty,” He winked at you.
Your cheeks grew hot at his bold comment, and you bit your lip to stop a smile from emerging. You imagined your boyfriend wouldn’t be best pleased that you were entertaining another man’s flirting. Especially when your modesty was this compromised.
“I’m not going to let you watch us fuck. Got that, Munson?” Steve’s voice was full of disbelief at the proposal.
“Then why hasn’t she put her shirt on?”
You were a deer in the headlights. Both men were inspecting you with entirely different intentions. Eddie was smirking, one eyebrow raised inquisitively, cockily. His arms were folded like he was taunting you for an answer, or like he’d already decided for you. Steve, upon first glance, was confused. But there was something else you couldn’t decipher behind his warm brown eyes.
“Babe?” Steve prompted you for a response, but the tone of his voice wasn’t hurt. It was… Mischievous.
“I–I uh…”
For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Emotions were clouding your rationality, you couldn't think straight. Your pussy was dripping. You’d been denied sex twice in the span of less than 2 hours and you flatly refused to be denied a third. Your heart pounded in your chest. Your palms were clammy. Your gaze flitting between the two leering men. Then your traitorous body betrayed you, and your fingers released the bedsheets.
Eddie sucked in his breath as he drank you in. The look on Steve’s face had hardened into pure lust. He too was being controlled by his body, and it was commanding him to hold you close. He crawled onto the bed, having already discarded his denim and seemingly taken the older man up on his offer. His lips were on yours and his weight was between your legs. You wrapped around his hips, holding him tight. Your skin was on fire. You couldn’t even see Eddie through Steve’s mess of hair, but you could feel him. His voyeuristic eyes lapping up the R-rated scene. Steve peeled himself off you for a moment, kneeling above you to hurriedly rid himself of his boxers. You followed enthusiastically in his path, rolling your underwear down your thighs and kicking them off your legs.
“Please… Please.”
It was your mouth that was making noise, begging Steve. You heard a moan in response. You were unsure if it was your boyfriend or the observer but you didn’t care. The tingling between your thighs was insatiable without Steve’s help.
Steve’s hand was between your bodies, stroking his tip against your soaked pussy. His eyes were dark and filled with desire in a way you could only describe as primal. No more time was being wasted. He pushed into you slowly. It was a little sore, your body needed to readjust to his size. Steve had other ideas, bottoming out in one movement. He’d waited too long to hold back now. The intrusion knocked a gasp from your lips and you clenched around him. He groaned and started thrusting leisurely but powerfully and deeply. Relief washed over your body as pain transformed into undulating pleasure. Sparks shot through your veins with each movement. You threw your head back and wrapped your limbs around him as tightly as you could. Steve dipped his head into the crook of your shoulder. The high you’d both chased for weeks was all-encompassing and you were both drowning in it.
“Look at me.” A voice cut through the bliss. It was low and heavy and new and for some reason, you felt inclined to obey.
Steve prompted you to readjust as he stood and left you miserably empty. You crawled onto all fours, glancing over your shoulder at your boyfriend, wordlessly pleading to be filled again. Steve positioned himself on his knees behind you, hastily entering you again. He could listen but he couldn’t wait. The new position sent shockwaves through your belly with every thrust. Then the voice cut through the heat of the room again, repeating itself, firmer this time.
“Look at me.”
Steve’s fingers wound in your hair and tugged upwards, raising your elbows off the mattress and joining him on knees. He was being more dominant than normal but surprisingly you welcomed it. You were forced to stare straight ahead and confront your voyeur. Eddie’s eyes were dark and hooded. His tongue dragged across his lower lip hungrily as he surveyed you both like prey. His intent stare didn't frighten you, instead having quite the opposite effect. Your jaw was slack, hanging open, but the hint of a smile danced across your lips, enticing Eddie with just enough insubordination. You could see his chest heaving underneath his signature denim jacket. He rose from his chair and took slow deliberate strides to the edge of the bed, locking eyes with you.
You hadn’t had the opportunity to see him this close before. You hadn’t noticed the caramel color of his eyes or the fullness of his lips. He was studying you with similar intensity. He was towering above you, and you struggled to keep your eyes open but you needed to watch him. He raised his calloused fingers to your cheek, ever so gently sweeping them across your skin. You didn’t withdraw from his touch, you embraced it. He drew lines on your skin with the tips of his fingers, down your cheeks, and across your collarbone. He wasn’t asking for your permission - but he was confirming it. One of his thumbs found the edge of your bottom lip and he hesitated, his eyes flicking between your mouth and eyes before leaning in, seemingly unable to contain himself anymore. You moaned into his mouth, lost in the feeling of his tongue massaging yours. It was odd, kissing someone else. The new sensation drove you wild.
Steve’s lips appeared on your shoulder, sucking and nibbling that spot on your neck that drove you crazy. You were shaking and humming, overwhelmed by all the attention. Steve could read you like a book at this point in your relationship. He knew you were close and he knew exactly what to do to push you over the edge. An arm wrapped around your waist, and two of his fingers rubbed small circles over your clit. You couldn’t hold back anymore, the feeling inside you that had been inflating like a balloon burst. You cried out, relying on Steve and Eddie to hold you up as you writhed and clenched on Steve’s pulsing cock. Eddie’s large hands held your shoulders in place as you lost your core strength. You heard Steve grunt and stutter before pulling out and cumming over your back.
It took you a moment to recollect yourself. You didn’t quite have it in you to assess all the damage you’d done yet, just survey the scene as it was. Eddie was still holding you upright but was calmly stroking your hair. Steve was somewhere behind him, fretting about how to clean up the mess he made on your back. You could only giggle at the situation's absurdity, prompting a wide grin from Eddie.
“Well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?” Eddie looked at you like he could see right through your glassy eyes and into your brain.
He was searching for something. Willingness, or even better, defiance.
“Could say the same about you, Mr. Munson.” You were slightly giddy.
Your eyes fluttered closed, and Steve took you in his arms to tenderly clean you.
“You okay, babe?” He whispered into your ear.
“Mmhmm.”
Truth be told, you had never been more satisfied. Steve could handle you, he knew what you needed, but this was different. Eddie offered something new to both of you. Something dangerous and dark and so deliciously alluring.
“Good. Because I’m not entirely sure what just happened.”
“It was hot.” Eddie shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah.” You breathed.
“Yeah.” Steve reiterated, surprising even himself.
Eddie was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and one leg crossed over the other. Then a glint of silver on the floor caught his eye. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for clutter to be on the floor, but this piqued his curiosity for a different reason.
“I see you found my cuffs.” He said matter-of-factly.
Your eyes blew wide, and you felt Steve’s grip tighten on your arm. Even though you were both already naked in front of the long-haired man, that particular statement forced you to feel vulnerable. Eddie smirked, feeling the tension from across the room.
“I’m assuming this is all new territory for you guys?”
You both nodded, a little shy in the face of Eddie’s daunting experience.
“You guys should come back here. When Dustin isn’t around.”
You shot bolt upright, having totally forgotten about your babysitting duties, “Oh shit, Dustin!”
“Don’t worry, I sent him to buy a flavor of Doritos that doesn’t exist. He’ll be gone for a while longer. But, as much as it pains me to say it, you should probably get dressed.”
#eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie x reader#eddie x steve x reader#dom!eddie#switch!steve#dom!eddie munson#eddie stranger things#dom eddie munson#steddie#eddie munson smut#stranger things s4#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut#eddie x steve smut
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Down With Lovesickness - Male Yan x GN!Reader
WARNING(S): Yandere, stalking, smoking, animal cruelty, breaking/entering, implied violence
Please read responsibly. Minors fuck off. Ageless/blank blogs DNI.
Imagine for a minute.
It’s your last year of high school and you’re hard at work trying to get your grades up. The very last project of the semester is coming, and you’ve just been assigned to work with the boy at the back of the class who’s never said a word as long as you’ve known him.
Andrew, you faintly remember, is a 6′3″ wall of a teen with dark, dark hair, a darker fashion sense, and icy blue eyes; someone nobody really wanted to socialize with, least of all you. He was the kind of guy to wear combat boots and chokers and snakebite piercings, listening to little else but My Chemical Romance and Three Days Grace with the music blaring through his earbuds. He was a parent’s worst nightmare and the envy of preteens everywhere, but he seemed to give little thought to any of it.
How he was even passing his classes, you’d never know. There were stretches of time where he just didn’t show up to class at all, you never saw him do any classwork or engage in discussions either. All he did was sit back and stare out the window, rolling a pencil between his fingers. Any time you’d ever seen anyone talk to him, he disregarded them coldly, as if it wasn’t worth his time to speak. Needless to say, you hadn’t been thrilled, but the groups were final and your teacher was insistent that if he didn’t pull his weight, you could do the whole thing yourself instead of risking half marks.
The very first time you spoke to him was during lunch. You managed to ask around until you found his sister two grades below, who pointed you in the direction of the gym with a huff of “Guess he didn’t stick to that promise again”. Sure enough you found him between the gym and the main building, a cigarette releasing a lazy stream of smoke in the shadows.
He wasn’t much for conversation at first, but with time, impatience, and offering whatever he wanted if he would just cooperate, he finally handed you his half of the project on the day of the presentation. You’d been floored - it was great-quality work, something that was sure to get a good grade. But he ignored any attempts at conversation and busied himself with staring out the window again.
After that, you found yourself crossing paths with him more and more. Sometimes you’d catch him standing behind you in the lunch line (”What? I didn’t have breakfast this morning,” he’d grumble when you looked up with a questioning glance), sometimes he’d just so happen to be checking out books in the school library when you were there to study (”I promised my brother that I’d find a horticulture guide for his weird plant hobby”), sometimes you’d even run into him after school, at the mall, at cafes, at the park - and every time he was nonchalant, cool, even, as he gave you an explanation as to why he happened to be there. Other times he brusquely said he didn’t have to say anything, and turned the tables on you. “Well, why are you here?”
Things only got weirder from there. One day one of your friends complained of a dead rat sitting on their doorstep that morning. Later on, another one complained of a weird feeling that someone was watching them as they went home every day. And yet another came to you privately and showed you pictures they’d taken of their tire slashed and blood across their windshield, spelling out “BEWARE”. It wasn’t human blood, or so they said - it was animal blood. Still didn’t explain why it was there, or who had done it. A couple in your friend group theorized that the dead rats and the blood incident were related, and it was too easy to get caught up in their talk of it. Paranoia seeped into the cracks of your friend group, and it wasn’t long before one of them snapped.
They just... disappeared from school for a week with no explanations or excuses. Even their parents refused to say anything, and your other friends were of no help either. Nobody knew what the hell had happened to them, and when they came back there was a haunted look in their eyes as they told you that you couldn’t be friends anymore. It sucked, but with all of the strange goings-on you didn’t blame them. It still burned inside to see them pull away from you.
You continued to run into Andrew more and more now. Sometimes you’d get to school and he would be just inside the doors, scaring the daylights out of you and getting a little smirk of amusement. You’d figure he enjoyed scaring you for fun with how much he spoke of little details in his life that should’ve been highly upsetting to a normal person, such as his parents’ divorce. Still he never outright bullied you, or so you thought. Who knows, maybe him making you jump and telling you morbid things was his way of being mean.
Something was weird about him, and you just couldn’t place it.
One day, he cornered you in the hallway. Classes were in session and the halls were clear, and oddly quiet, as Andrew leaned in with a rasping voice. “Go out with me, (Name).”
The question- no, demand, was so out of the blue that all you could do was balk at him. Yet he remained stoic as ever, and slowly you realized he wasn’t joking.
“I don’t want anyone except you,” he explained, and the almost suffocating linger of cigarette smoke filled your senses. His jacket was well-worn and thick, and you could feel the body heat radiating from him at this close proximity. “Go out with me. I won’t let anyone mess with you.”
It was a strange stipulation, but, well, what had you to lose? That was the first time you saw him smile, and the sight was oddly heartwarming despite his waspish façade.
Nobody could believe you if you mentioned that you were dating him. Not even your closest friends, who had laughed when you explained it after they’d seen him leave your locker one morning. Sure, his reputation proceeded him, but after a while it just began to get annoying how people would tease you and call you crazy for it.
Winter turned to spring, and you and Andrew were still dating. He walked you to your classes every day now, and more than once had slipped your favorite candy into your bag during breaks. You figured it was his way of being sweet, not noticing the ring of bruises on the back of his neck underneath his longcoat collar.
As the year wore on, people teased you less and less. Instead, now they seemed almost afraid to discuss your new relationship. Their eyes followed you when you passed, and if Andrew was walking you they would avert their gaze entirely until he was gone. Some of the school’s biggest jerks, ones who used to antagonize him, one by one stopped coming to school. When asked, he never said a thing about it, muttering something about it not being your business to know.
Something was weird about your boyfriend, but as long as he was respectful you didn’t care. Well, until you did.
One night you awoke to your window sliding open. As you all but leapt from your bed, a shout on your tongue, he shushed you by clapping a hand over your mouth, hissing, “It’s just me! Don’t scream, you idiot!”
How had he opened it from the outside? You’d sworn you’d locked it before bed. How had he managed to sneak into your hard and not set off the floodlights outside the house? Most importantly, how were you not screaming for your parents already?!
“I needed to see you,” he said next, burying his nose in your hair. The choker around his neck clinked and felt cold against your skin and you could smell sandalwood and smoke clinging to his clothes, but as your fear melted away and you were left with your giant of a boyfriend holding you in his lap on your bed, all you could think about was how warm and nice he felt.
That night went by quickly, much of it spent with Andrew’s once-icy gaze raking over your form in a soft, dare you say it loving way. By the time you woke up he was pressed into you, holding you to his chest in an iron grip. You barely managed to wake him up and shoo him out the window before your parents decided to check on you, but the grin spreading across his face sent butterflies through your chest.
He texted you later, musing about how he enjoyed spending the night, and how you’d have to come over and meet his siblings and his mother already. Your boyfriend may be gruff and cold, but somehow he swept you off your feet - and you were already anticipating the next time he would sneak in on a streak of teenage rebellion.
#she muses#yandere x gn reader#male yandere#dead dove do not eat#tw: yandere#tw: obsessive behavior#tw: stalking#tw: smoking#tw: animal cruelty#tw: death#breaking and entering#ocs#tw: implied violence#minors dni#blank blogs dni#ageless blogs dni
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@countlessrealities sent; In hindsight, even if he wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself, Vox could recognise that most of the blame was on him. Famous or not, powerful or not, he lived in Hell, so people didn't exactly have manners. Walking around with his eyes glued to the screen of his phone was pretty much begging for someone to bump into him.
In all honesty, it was a miracle that he had made it to the club without crashing into some passer-by.
Unfortunately, the inside was even more packed than the exterior had been, which made the inevitable happen. Another collider with the Overlord, starting him back to the present, and causing him to drop his phone.
"Hey! What the fuck?!" Vox hissed out, left eye glitching, as he turned to snarl towards the unfortunate damned soul. "Do you know who I..."
His voice trailed off as he realised that the face he was staring at was a very familiar one. Angel Dust, Val's favourite sex toy. Great. As if he needed something to remind him of his friends right now.
"Shouldn't you be working or something?" The Media Demon asked, tone still harsh, but less murderous. He knew that the other wasn't, Valentino had been too busy getting on his nerves to be filming, but fuck that.
"Whatever. Get out of my way."
It was only then that Vox dropped his eyes on his phone. It had fallen with the screen turned upwards, the video he had been watching still playing.
Each and every frame showing one single subject. Alastor.
Sparks of electricity shot out from the Overlord's hands and head as he quickly bent down to snatch the device off the floor, hiding it against his chest.
"Yeah, I'm spying on your stupid Hotel, so what?!" He blurted out, obviously defensively. He could sell that explanation, right?
Tonight had been exhausting already for Angel Dust. Not only did he manage to get off with a 10 hour video shoot and photo shoot afterwards, but he also had to please his boss for an extra two hours. It was needless to say that he was overworked, drained and in need of a good time.
Luckily, he had his best friend, Cherri, to party with.
However, getting the drinks proved to be a fruitless task. As he bumped into the Overlord, spilling two cocktails on himself and onto the ground. His face fell flat and both of his arms hung by his sides.
Great, another reminder of Valentino. The guy's best friend. One of the V's. If it wasn't bad enough he bumped into him, he dearly hoped that he didn't get a single drop on him.
He planned on staying silent. If he even dared to talk back, Valentino would be hearing about it. And that would end up disastrous for him.
That is, until he saw the phone land on the ground. He looked over. Curious gaze landed on the images of Alastor. That was weird. Why did the TV demon have a video feed of that guy?
Then came the explanation. Somehow, he didn't buy it. It was soo suspiciously all about Alastor to be of the entire hotel.
"Ya do realize Alasta isn't the only one who's at the hotel, right?" He snapped. "And I didn't see Charlie or Vaggie or anyone else for that matter," He put his second pair of arms on his hips, leaning forward slightly; accusatory. "What's the real reason ya got ya eyes on him?"
#countlessrealities#{ answers. ✦ }#{ ic ; 🕷 Angel Dust }#{ main verse 🕷 'ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛɪꜱ' }#{ he's SUSPICIOUS !! }#{ he's like 'nope i don't think thats the real reason you have eyes on Alastor' xD }#{ and he's so pissed at Vox's attitude he's really gonna give him hell fhdsjkfds }
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So it’s been roughly a week since I finished all the currently available chapters of Dark Deception, and I felt like leaving my thoughts! Gonna be going in chronological order so let’s begin with:
Monkey Business
This level was definitely a strong start for the game. I remember back when the original demo in 2014 came out, so it felt really cool to see the hotel and the Murder Monkeys now in a higher quality. It serves as a good introduction to the main gist of the gameplay: you collect shards and avoid monsters. The difficulty isn’t too bad even without the insane powers you’ll get later on, but it certainly isn’t easy neither. Overall great way to begin this twisted tale!
Elementary Evil
Coupled with Monkey Business, this level also serves as a great introduction, but this time to the gimmick of powers and Malak as an active threat. This level was definitely a lot easier than the first, probably since Agatha is the only real threat for most of it. Fuck that semifinal chase though. Agatha as a whole is adorable in a weird way, found her gremlin shenanigans very fun. Really gotta give props to Kat Cressida for such an energetic performance!
Deadly Decadence
Fuck this level. Plain and simple. Another “tutorial level” (and one of my least favorites). This one introduces stage hazards and hoo boy they couldn’t have picked a more annoying scenario to place them in. The hedge maze in Zone 1 isn’t the worst and can be done easily as long as you’re not careless, but Zone 2 is just frustrating to say the least and Teleportation just didn’t feel like the right power up to introduce here. All in all not impossible, but it took me forever first time I played. The difficulty spike was like slamming into a brick wall during a joyride.
Stranger Sewers
Fuck this level but to a much lesser degree than Deadly Decadence. The last of the “tutorials”, here we’re introduced to enemies that can stun with the Dread Duckies. Needless to say, teleportation really showed it’s worth here due to the sewer water slowing you down in certain areas. Still had my fair share of deaths (many of which were frustrating) but compared to the previous level not nearly as infuriating. The final chase sequence with Doom Ducky was definitely the highlight of this level and really cool, overall this level was ok just wish it was more interesting aesthetically.
Crazy Carnevil
This is where the game really picked up for me, I was already enjoying myself for the most part but the introduction of the Primal Fear ability was a godsend. On top of that, the areas introduced in this level were much more colorful and diverse than in Stranger Sewers so it felt super refreshing. The Clown Gremlins weren’t the hardest enemy to deal with but still not to be underestimated, especially once you get to the Funhouse. All in all a good level, not my favorite but a nice breath of fresh air from the chaos of Levels 3 and 4.
Torment Therapy
This level was pretty short and to compensate, they had a LOT of shards to collect. Telepathy and Primal Fear really had their work cut out for them whenever the Reaper Nurses were cloaked. The Reaper Nurses themselves have cool designs and it felt surreal hearing Tara Strong in an indie horror game (something I’d get use to for the rest of the game) Overall this level was alright but it could get a little grating at times, the overall map design was alright but nothing too special but I did love the foreshadowing for certain details we learn in the next level. The Matron boss fight was pretty cool but felt very slow paced compared to the previous bosses, a lot of waiting around for the Reaper Nurses to climb up and stun. If there’s one major gripe I’ve had while trying to S rank this level, the beginning goes on for way too long and after several attempts it just gets annoying. Really hope they can add a way to skip ahead to the actual gameplay in a future patch.
Mascot Mayhem
This level was actually the reason I got interested in the game in the first place. Ever since I began, I had been anticipating this level right from the get go, biding my time waiting until I could play it and by God did it deliver. The Joy Joy Gang were such fun characters (especially Penny) and could be a real bitch to deal with at certain points. I only wish that the other zones just had us unlocking different areas of the park instead of just going inside an office building and a factory, felt like a big missed opportunity. Zone 2 was definitely annoying with 2 of Hangry roaming around, especially when Vanish didn’t feel like working. Joykill was pretty alright, not the most interesting design wise but a tough boss nonetheless. The true highlights of this level for me were Best Girl ™️ Penny, Tara Strong must’ve had a field day voicing her, so hyperactive sweet and bloodthirsty all at the same time! Also the story revelations at the end of the level (after a delightful beating from the JJG).
Bearly Buried
Holy hell this level is good. Absolutely one of my favorites for a multitude of reasons: 1) The first area mixing it up by taking our powers away after getting so used to having them by this point. 2) The general vibe and area design are all so good especially Zones 1 & 3. 3) EVERYTHING ABOUT MAMA BEAR. She’s so cute yet so menacing! Once again Tara Strong brings some impeccable VO work, giving her this nice balance of monotone and motherly. Also her themes are honestly some of if not the absolute creepiest in the entire soundtrack so far. Abso-fucking-lutely on par with Penny for being my favorite character. Like with Joy Joy Land, I kinda wish they got a little more creative with the later zones but that’s just a nitpick. Out of all the boss encounters, I actually think the final confrontation with Mama was the most difficult for me, but trial and error is an effective teacher. All in all a fun time that leaves me thirsty for more.
Closing Thoughts: Overall a good game! It’s definitely not for everyone but I feel like a lot of people can get some enjoyment out of it. One thing I haven’t mentioned that I feel should be addressed is the amount of bugs that are currently present in this game (especially in the last 3 levels), but that’s a whole other conversation and I still managed to have fun regardless. If you have $20, a weekend without plans and the slightest interest, I’d say give this game a go! As for me? Now begins the agonizing wait for Chapter 5 and the epic conclusion it’ll bring.
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Oh my god I’m still writing I genuinely didn’t expect it to be this hard to stop writing???? Please I have homework help /goofy
START OF WHAT WOULD BE SEASON THREE, LESSGO!
*Clap* MARK!
We open on Michael — literally the head archivist — gone without a trace or any leads regarding his location.
Jon… isn’t too thrilled.
The tape that got recorded, however, was still recording when everything had gone down. So he heard what Jurgen had said to Michael. And every single bit of emotion in his voice.
Needless to say, he’s… no longer quite as afraid of Michael as he had been before.
Jon doesn’t get hunted by police this time, although Daisy obviously still thinks that he was somehow responsible for Gertrude’s murder and all that crap.
Michael is also a prime suspect, for many reasons, but… Daisy’s less inclined to believe that he did it.
Meanwhile, the archivist himself… doesn’t actually really know where to go.
(Bonus little detail: Elias has started referring to Michael as “the archivist” and “archivist” more often without really thinking about it, which he sees as a “promising development”.)
Martin and Jon get to talk, Tim and Sasha aren’t dead, but Tim isn’t that much better than he was in the original season 3. Definitely won’t accept Jon’s apologies, even though Sasha has. (Which, by the way, is very reasonable, because honestly what the fuck, Jon. I understand your motives, and still do NOT condone your actions.)
Sasha being there is nice, though.
It’s… also one more person whose continued existence might start messing with things.
I think she probably got marked by the stranger because of the initial encounter with the table.
I don’t know what that means for her yet, though, sooooooooo… ✨yeah✨.
OH, ok actually Jon was trying to get in touch with Michael —with martin’s help, perhaps— and then he got a tip??? Possibly from Elias? That daisy was coming and he should take his business elsewhere if he didn’t want to be followed or caught.
So he HAS to go to Georgie’s anyway.
Meanwhile Michael’s just… travelling.
He’s not actually going anywhere in particular, at first. But soon he finds himself wandering around places he’s heard referenced in statements.
He’s stopped trying to look to the traces of Gertrude’s footsteps for answers.
So instead he’s taking a gamble and… well… trying to figure out what’s happening to him. Asking people who know. Trying to stay in control, though almost halfheartedly at this point.
He hasn’t given up… he’s not going to just stop caring and go full mirror-man… he’s just…
According to that “vision” he’d had, Gertrude was going to send him to die when they got to where they were going. To “sannikov land” — which, by the way, he’d looked up and found didn’t exist.
He had been insignificant to her. His entire life hadn’t even mattered to her.
So what if a strange man with a liking for shaping weird spirals out of clay wanted to make something terrible happen.
It hadn’t worked.
It hadn’t completely failed, either, but it hadn’t worked.
And if he’d been thrown out into the door… if he had died… what then?
…Four years.
He had worked for her for four years up until that point. What had it even been for? Had he just sentenced himself to death ever since he set foot in the institute? Had it just been planned for him since the very start?
No, that… that wasn’t quite it… and it wasn’t really what had been making all of this hurt so much, either.
Too many years had passed since then… but he remembered a time when he was someone else.
Someone he hadn’t wanted to be.
It wasn’t his voice, it wasn’t his name, it wasn’t even the little dresses and skirts he wore, as he had been forced to. It was who he was, and he didn’t like it.
He wanted to take it off. Take all of it, and switch it out for something that fit.
And he had. After almost seven whole years of painful reminders of who he appeared to be… he finally fit.
He was him, and the he that he was was named Michael, and that was he. That was his name. He told the world who he was, and that was what they’d see, and he loved to be he.
But now… the mirrors did not show that reflection which made him smile just a little bit each time he saw it smiling back.
It didn’t fit.
It wasn’t his.
He was no longer he, and that made him feel very, very afraid.
And… lost.
Like a man being pulled along by strings he cannot see.
Expected to blindly take one step after another towards… well, he imagined it would most likely be his doom. Or perhaps something even worse.
To… simply trust that he was going somewhere important, to fulfill some… greater purpose. Some destiny.
…he didn’t want to have a destiny.
He just wanted to be.
Whoops, accidentally explained his thought process instead of implying things, my bad- well, at least this is just a draft…
*ahem* Anyway-
Michael’s just moving between mirrors in places as best he can without accidentally scaring people. He’s unaware that he’s currently wanted by the London police. He’s just terrified of hurting the others at the institute the way he’d hurt Leitner, and wants to get as far away as possible from them so that he can’t do that.
(Honey, they consider you a friend, you’re allowed to call them that :( )
But his “coworkers” (friends) have other plans.
Tim may now be more sarcastic than punchy, but Sasha’s being insanely helpful and good at this.
Whatever uh. “This” is.
…I may actually have to reread the transcripts and make a “plot-detail” timeline or something, I’ve completely forgotten when everything happens in season three-
#tw dysphoria#tw dysmorphia#i think#lemme know if that’s wrong plz#tw gender dysphoria#Tim stoker#Sasha James#Johnathan sims#Michael Shelley#the magnus archives#tma#michael tma#tma au#tma unwinding au#unwinding au#season three#tma spoilers#sorta#Jon tma#Tim tma#Sasha tma#yeah that’s right I HC Michael as trans :)
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Part 2 Jean Gray S/O Mukami Edition
sorry for the delays not to get too personal for privacy reasons but I've had an accident that's made typing slow plus with my exams wrapping up it's safe go say I got busy lol.
Eve had been taken by the Sakamakis and causing quite a fuss. Yet Karl their saviour had promised to make up for it only to have this risk thrusted upon them.
Unknown strength forcing them back from their approach and a familiar look in her eyes. Like a falcon in a cage ever thinking on how to get out. In a sick sense they realised they were staring at a mirror of their younger selves, as if they were somehow the monsters that had harmed them.
Ruki
You would think being previously human himself this dumbass would've realised that he's not smart from having some fangs. But no violence instead, sure he has a dark past, is old, and is basically in a cult but that doesn't excuse hurting others.
His inferiority complex, especially when it comes to women because ✨mummy issues✨, are going nuts. Every part of his little noggin is cycling through ideas of ways to turn off your powers or break you down to where you don't think you even try. Of course the mind reading throws a particular wrench in the plan.
Ruki shows every sign of his control issues being trauma responses from his past and while that's definitely a real issue it ain't your issue. You aren't a member of the cult that sends these girls you haven't been raised in such a toxic environment to view yourself as needing to be this female savior figure. Ruki is almost attracted to it but there's so much confliction going on. And you're fully aware how the smartest play is to never let on you know his parents names, his nightmares, his scars and his fears.
Kou
Oh boy. Kou is not as impatient as a Sakamaki, he also is better practiced in manipulation with people other then previously mentally broken down girls. He's not dumb enough to rush his hand as much as he hates it. Your a cat, independent and impossible to herd in his mind. Of course unlike a cat you aren't about to come sit in his lap regardless of how nice he acts.
That's when he learns your mind doesn't only affect the external but can also pry. Pry. Pry. Pry. Such a naughty little kitty you are hiding the truth from him so sneakily.
He decides there and then he'll be the one to kill you he just isn't sure how yet.
Yuma
Uneasy but by far the most receptive to it. Maybe it's favoritism but I think of the four Yuma is the most receptive to humanity but has been hardened and still values his brothers more than clinging to humanity.
You're useful in the garden, you're not fragile, and you're not taking part in the messy charade that is the vampire feeding cult. He does have an issue not being able to easily drink but I think he's the most likely to be able to work around it. ON ONE CONDITION...
It's the mind reading I'm getting so repetitive here and I know this may look lazy but let's not lie to ourselves. All the Diaboys got trust issues so mind reading is well out their comfort zone.
So as long as he knows about everything though its chill. The giant and the powerhouse dynamic means you have a relatively chill existence, until either you eventually escape or you and Yuma run off.
Azusa
Big fan but doesn't understand the true meaning ya know?
Dude gets a kick out of it which is an issue for you with the whole being left alone and not harassed by vampires thing. You learn pretty fast to be gentle pushing him away to try minimise his attempts to get you to hurt him. I don't think he'll care much about the mind reading he'd just see it as more reason to be punished.
I also think he won't even careto buffer the attacks of his brothers, thus adding to your stress. Needless to say it's setting up a weird dynamic.
If you're his flavour of fucked up it might be fun for you but that's pretty fucked up.
If not, you've now got this shadow to try shake.
Maybe in a post therapy world you be his protector but as it stands you refuse to be another tormentor.
#diabolik lovers#ruki mukami#yuma mukami#kou mukami#azusa mukami#diabolik lover headcannon#diabolik lovers imagine
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Tokyo Zombie (2005)
Movie #1,060 • WATCHLIST WEDNESDAYS
Every Wednesday, I mine more than 2K deep Letterboxd watchlist via the shuffle function to find two movies for a rando double feature. I almost always have no recollection as to when, why or how I've added films to this unwieldy mishmosh of a list. So, naturally, results vary.
Case in point: the English-dubbed version of this zombie comedy from mid 2000s Japan. This flick, based on a manga, is as relentlessly pointless as it is unnecessarily creepy and unfortunately homophobic. And it's a real shame about the latter because this would have been a much more fun experience without it. I was reminded somewhat of the TRUE RANDOM selection G.O.R.A. I watched a few years back, although not nearly as egregious re the homophobia. Here being gay (and being molested, ugh) are played for laughs, but without the accompanying vitriol of that pitiful piece of shit. Needless to say, it's still impossible to separate those moments when crafting any critique. It sucks ass!
When they're not busy doing weird/horrible sex jokes, the physical goofs — a mix of practical and shitty 00s CGI — are great and almost border on anti-comedy. Take this weird ventriloquist character who ends up becoming a prince in the post-apocalyptic zombie world...
What is that guy's deal?? I have no idea! The aesthetic is off-the-wall and while it's certainly 'not good' in any conventional way, it works for the zany low-budget tone. I mean, this looks like a lovably bad Wes Anderson rip-off or some shit...
If the whole movie had been stuff like that and scenes like this...
youtube
...man, it would have been such a better movie. (Also: What is that fucking music?? lol.) Oh well. I spent way too much time on this review.
SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
#watchlist wednesdays#2005#horror#zombie#comedy#4.5#sakichi sato director#tadanobu asano#shô aikawa#erika okuda#🇯🇵#Youtube
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