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#there was probably more but this is all I could remember after a full day of work and such
cevansbrat0007 · 3 days
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Hello, Duchess
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Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 
Well, that couldn’t be right. 
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
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Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 
“As much as I can be.” 
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 
“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 
But not now. 
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END 
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dazednmatthews · 19 hours
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could you write stressed college gf headcanons for chris too 👉👈 matt's are so damn cute
chris x stressed college!gf headcanons:
-something about chris you’ve noticed since you’ve been together is that he has a habit of feeding off peoples energies, but possibly in the worst way
-so when finals come around and you’re an anxious, stressed mess, so is he
-and because of that, he’s constantly looking up the material you have to study and telling you random facts about it in hopes that it helps in anyway
-“hey babe,” he says while you sit as his computer desk, highlighting things in your notes. “yeah?” you say, not tearing your gaze away from your notebook. “did you know that 95% of the ocean is still unexplored?” you do glance at him that time, eyebrows furrowed. “yes i did. why do you mention it?” “well i’ve just been reading about marine science for a couple hours and that’s just fucking insane to me”
-it never really adds anything to your review, but it makes you smile regardless at how hard he’s trying
-his support is absolutely unwavering, so as soon as you start to doubt yourself or talk down to yourself, he’s there to put a full stop to that shit
-“i’m never gonna fucking pass,” you flop back in his bed, blowing a frustrated breath out. “i can’t remember any of this shit and it won’t matter how long i spent studying because i’m gonna get in the exam room and absolutely choke-”
-“stop talking about yourself like that.” he’d cut you off. “you’ve been working nonstop to pass this test and you’re like the smart person i’ve ever met. i don’t wanna hear any of that. the more you say it, the more you’ll believe it and it’s just not fucking true. understood?”
-it makes your heart do backflips
-i think he’d be the type to pack you a big of snacks or a meal for days he knows you’re gonna be in the library all day studying
-you’d come up to the living room with your bag slung over your shoulder and your hair still wet from the shower and place a kiss on his cheek as you leave. “i’m going to study, baby. i’ll probably be back late.”
-“thats fine, ma. don’t stress yourself out too much.” he’d pause the show he was watching and turn in his seat on the couch slightly. “i made you some food to take with you. make sure you eat it, i worked hard on that.”
-“chris, this is so sweet. you’d didn’t have to do this.”
-he’d give you a strange look. “why wouldn’t i? i need my girl to be taken care of. plus i knew you would ignore me if i told you to eat. shit is so annoying.” he’d roll his eyes while you shrug.
-“oh fuck off. sometimes i just forget.”
-he would also help you study, using all the guides you’ve done. he’s soooo the type of bf to give a kiss for every right answer too. it keeps you motivated and keeps him happy. kissing you is his favorite thing to do after all.
-when you would get so stressed and anxious about failing you would cry, his heart would actually break
-you would be on like hour six straight with no breaks and he would close your books, starting to put everything away
-“chris, what the fuck are you doing! i have so much more to do.”
-“no. you’re driving yourself crazy and it’s not good for you. you’re done for tonight. i’m gonna run you a bath and then we’ll watch a movie.”
-you’d pretend to be mad but actually be so grateful he could see you were close to breaking down. to be loved is to be known
-chris goes with you in the morning and waits for you in the car while you take your test
-he’s waiting for you outside on the hood of your car when you come out, wringing his hands nervously to hear how you did
-when he sees the sad look on your face he instantly goes to grab you and make you feel better
-but when you told him that you passed w flying colors he is so proud of you he nearly cried.
-“yes! that’s my girl! i knew you could do it, baby. my girlfriend, the scholar.” and he’s peppering kisses all over your face while hugging you tightly
-you soak in the moment with a warm heart because you have the best boyfriend in the world and it baffles you just how much he believes in you. you are so in love with him
-and he loves you exactly the same
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alyssa-the-witch · 2 days
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Offerings and their Removal
Disclosure, this may not apply to everyone! Cherry pick it if that works for you, or take none at all. Just no hate or arguments in the comments!
Definition- Offering - Something given to an entity or deity to show appreciation. This can also be something done or said to show appreciation.
~~~~~Types of Offerings~~~~~~
Food- In ancient tradition, the first bites of food were thrown into the fire to be sent through the gods by smoke. However, this isn't an option for many people these days. Alternative methods are favored.
Fire - The old methods are still applicable if available. If one has a bon fire or fire-place/hearth, the first bite of food can still be "smoked" , per-say.
Prayer - A small prayer can be said over food before the first bite is taken. Just a simple "Entity/spirit, please accept this offering, Blessed Be" or something similar can suffice. This, for some deities like Hestia can be done at the end too. This is more convenient for a hidden practice and for those who can't afford to waste food.
Altar- If you have an altar, or ever a small bowl, they can place the first bite of food there for the deity entity too.
Objects and Trinkets- Just like us, deities/entities love little trinkets. Whether it be a few coins you find nice to a statue or an engraved candle. Whatever it my be, it can be given to an entity with a prayer and/or on an altar in their honor.
Removables - There are some things that can be placed on altar and taken off. I like to call them removables. When placed on an altar, one could say "Entity/Deity, bless this object, with your energy and blessings." let it sit for a moment or cleanse with incense. If a clothing item, accessory, or perfume, you can take it off and use/wear it. Just remember to put it back to refresh the energy and discuss before taking it off for the first time.
Actions - There are also things that one can do in offer of a deity or entity. They can be small things, like prayers, to full-on rituals.
Prayer- This is probably the easiest in my opinion. It can be a small "Hey entity/deity, I appreciate you." on the go, or reciting a hymn or a prayer by the altar. It's incredibly diverse and can meld to any practice.
Chores - This can apply more to some deities than others, but just Keeping your room and house tidy can be done in honor of a deity. Altars specifically can be cleaned or re-arranged as an offering
Art-In ancient times, arts of every kind were offered to deities ant spirits. And it can fit most anyone's style.
Music- written specifically or just a song you think reminds you of them. Drawings/Paintings- try thing that reminds you of the deity or how you see them can be drawn or painted. Others- Pottery, Dance, Crocheting or handy crafts, or even more. All can be done in offering to a deity. Specifics - If you have done research into who you're offering to, you can offer specific things. Sleep for Hypnos, Baking bread for Hestia, Rehearsing if in the arts for Dionysus, etc. Self Care- This not a lot of people think applies, however the gas most want you to be kind to your self. whether it be a bath with oils, flower petals, and all the works to just brushing your teeth at night. All would make the gods/entities very proud of you!!
~~~~~~~Disposal~~~~~~~
This is something a bit more difficult; You did the thing, you think it's time, now what do you do? A decent chunk of this section was taken from @khaire-traveler. Obviously, actions cannot be "removed" Once the action is complete, the offering is sent.
Food- khaire narrowed it into 4 options that I really like. Just remember, when on an alter, don't let it sit too long for health concerns (rotting, bugs, etc.)
Consume - After praying aver the food like I had mentioned before.
Bum - Also mentioned before, but can be done after sitting at an altar for awhile.
Bury- Food offerings. if safe for local wildlife, can be buried. "My logic in burying them (only if environmentally safe) is returning the offering to the earth in a sense." (khair-3) (Yes its MLA cited, AP capstone has rotted my brain) If that fits Your practice, it is a good option.
Dispose, - This, like everything else here, must be done with respect. Clarify with the entity/deity that you aren't doing so out of disrespect, rather because this is your preferred disposal style or your only option
Objects/Art Pieces- If you have this ability, talk to your entity/deity about it, clarify there is no disrespect in the removal, and give the deity some time to de-attach to it. Slowly, the energy will fade from the object when kept away from the altar. This doesn't need to a ritual, but can be if that's what you prefer
Thank you for reading! This is my first fore into the pagan-sphere, so if this is something a lot of people like, I'll continue! Blessed Be, Alyssa the Witch!
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mrsparrasblog · 2 days
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MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER FINAL PART (PRICE ENDING) 
TW: Blood, dead
previous part part one
As Price watched your wedding from afar, a thousand thoughts swept through him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for the moments he had missed in your life, the milestones he hadn't been there to witness. But amidst the regret, there was love and pride in seeing you so radiant, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. You grew up to be a beautiful woman like he always imagined; you were graceful, confident, and full of joy. If this wedding were just something different, something he could be happy about, god, he would rather have married you off to some bloke than a fucking terrorist.
His mind raced with thoughts of how he could have intervened earlier and how he could have protected you from falling into the hands of a man like Vladimir Makarov. Yet he knew deep down that you were strong, resilient, and had made your own choices, even if they weren't the ones he would have wanted for you. Thoughts flowed through his brain: did you choose him freely? Did you know what Makarov was? Why did you vanish from the world? You probably had Stockholm syndrome; there wouldn’t be a chance in hell that his sweet, smart girl fell in love willingly with a man like Makarov.
As he wiped away his tears, Price made a silent vow to himself. He may not have been your protector in the past, but he would be damned if he didn't become your guardian now.
He waited what felt like ages for him to finally see you for a second alone. You were headed to the bathroom, and the wide wedding dress mopped the floor. Makarov was speaking to some politicians, and that was his only chance. He gave Ghost the agreed signal: don’t hurt Civis; kill that bastard and save you.
He heard you vomiting, so he walked inside the bathroom. He already knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to think or even believe this, there was a different time to sort out that problem.
You turned around, being sure that Vlad had intruded on your space. He was always so overprotective, but you knew he would be even worse after this news, but did you really mind? 
You gasped as you saw him—your father. He looked older than you remembered; he had more wrinkles, worried eyes, and a completely unshaven beard. "Dad?“
"Oh God, Sweetie, “ he said, almost running the few steps over to you. He embraced you in a tight hug, trying his best to hide his tears. Everyone believed you were dead; they wanted him to mourn you, hold a wake to you, and finally declare you dead but he knew you were alive, and now you stood there in front of him, with a confused look in your beautiful eyes—but alive.
"I didn't think you would make it, Dad,“ you said bluntly while mustering him. It had been so long since you last saw him.
"Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?“ He started to grab your arms, pulling the sleeves up, looking for any bruises or any indication that Makarov had hurt you. God, he personally wanted to gut that bastard out.
"No Dad, Im fine; Vlad would never hurt me.“ 
"He is a terrorist, Sweetie; he kills for money.“
"I know, but he has his reasons, Dad. He never would hurt me or do something bad without a reason.“
He looked towards you with a saddened expression, taking your delicate hands in his calloused ones. "Look, I get it. You had a rough time, didn’t you? Your head tricked you into thinking that you love him and that he is this prince from a fairytale, but he isn't; none of this is real.“ 
You were fuming at this accusation. How had he the audacity on your wedding day?"I'm not stupid, Dad.“
"You're not stupid; you’re brave.“
"He doesn’t hurt me; he protects me and takes care of me, Dad.“
"And what if he changes his mind? If you’ll be the victim of his actions? Please see reason.“
"At least he doesn’t leave me all the time." Spite and pure spite made you say these words: You always loved your dad more than anything else in your life, but he left you; he loved Tina more; he never cared about you; at least that's what you thought.
"Im sorry- I really am for being such a shitty Dad to you, but I love you more than anything, and I know you deserve a better old man, but you also deserve better than marrying a man who isn’t capable of loving. Come home with me; I divorced your stepmom; I will retire okay; no more deployment; no more war; just you and me and Tina if she wants to stay with us,“ he pleaded. He wanted you so bad to agree.
"Dad, I can't; I'm pregnant." You told him the news, and you were sure he would give up by that, but his expression didn’t change, almost as if he already knew.
"Sweetie, I'll help you, okay? And you can still see Vlad just come home, even if it's just for a bit, okay?“ He didn’t know how to help you anymore; besides lying to you, he knew it would stain your relationship even more, but right now, everything that counted was to have you leave this place.“
"You really would.“
"Of course.“ 
"Thank you, Dad,“ you mumbled and stood up on your way to leave the bathroom to tell Vlad that your Dad kinda accepts him for the baby's sake.
"Wait“
"Hm?“
"Let your old man hug you,“ with that, he pulled you into one of his famous bear hugs, softly stroking your beautiful hair.
When you left the bathroom, you saw Vlad, the supposed love of your life, your husband limp on the ground. The guards lay dead in different corners, and the wedding party was gone. You were only gone for 20 minutes, and everything was ruined.
You ran over to Vlad, hugging his limp body, trying to search for a pulse or anything but gone. You pressed his body closer to yours, and your eyes slowly started to build tears. The sobs only grew louder as you mumbled I love you all over and over again in Russian to him. You weren’t even sure if you were able to tell him that you loved him, and now he is gone. „You lied to me, Dad,“ was all you said to the military man in front of you, who looked at you like you were a zoo animal. Your white dress had already turned the prettiest shade of maroon.
Your Dad walked towards you, trying to pick you up, but you didn’t want to leave Vlad's body. 
"He is dead, Sweetie.“ he crunched next to you.
"You lied to me.“
"I know,“ he picked you up, ignoring your protest, but he also held you the whole night while you cried in his arms, not for one second judging you that you fell in love with Vlad, never dismissing your grief; he was for once in your life there for you.
————————————
1 year later 
You moved in with your Dad again, he indeed retired from the military. His friend and aunt Kate helped at first, but now you managed, even got your old job back that you loved so much. Your Dad sent you to therapy, and after a while, you got it—this wasn’t love, this was fear—and you're free now. This made you resent the baby inside your belly first, but when little James was born, everything was different, and you didn’t connect him with Vlad.
You were afraid your Dad wouldn’t accept little James, but he did. He carried him proudly around, showing it off to his old squad, especially the new Captain of the squad, Captain MacTavish, or anything like that. Your Dad always carried a pacifier in his bag, always a picture of James, Tina, and you in his wallet. He was finally at peace, and so were you.
The End
So this is Price ending , its the first fanfic Drabble whatever I finished, and through the whole process I thought what if my reader don't like the ending, what if its lame or anything but then I thought you don't need always Drama for a good fic or an different love interest ending, sometimes the ending is just good because she finally has what she always craved a family bond.
Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride , @paintlavillered
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swiss-mrs · 3 days
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EVERMORE: Chapter One
Eddie Munson Fic - Evermore Directory - Word Count: 7.4K
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Music blared through Eddie’s ears as he stared out the dingy bus window. “It's for the best, kid.” Wayne's voice echoed through his mind. “You know I care for you, son, but I have no clue how to handle this.” His uncle's sorrowful and concerned expression was drilled into Eddie’s mind.
It's been three months since his return, six since his ‘death’. The world has fallen into autumn, red and brown leaves adorning the trees that pass in a blur. “You'll master your powers and meet others like you. I'll miss you all over again, man.” He could still feel Dustin's tears soaking through his shirt.
Eddie wasn't completely alone on the bus. Aside from the driver, there was a girl, probably around 15, sobbing in the back of the bus, and a boy who looked no or older than 12 or 13 towards the front of the bus, staring out the window in a similar fashion to Eddie. His eyes were dry, but he didn't really look happy to be on this bus ride either. 
Eddie was sat in the middle, a good amount of space between both the others. According to his watch, they were about 11 hours into their 13 hour drive. He glances over his shoulder to find the girl passed out against the window with dried tears on her face. He turns to look in front of him to find the boy still staring out the window blankly. He wondered if either of these children went through the same thing he did. Did they also suddenly gain mysterious, super natural powers they can't seem to control? Did they too do something unforgivable to put them here? He sighs and averts his eyes back to the window. The morning sun was peeking over the skyline. Did they always do night pickups? Was it to hide their shipments?
Eddie's leg began to bounce as they neared closer and closer. ‘Welcome to Vermont’ the sign read as they passed. He knew this was the best choice but that couldn't stop his heart from feeling betrayed and bitter.
Over the last three months, he was plagued with night terrors and migraines. It made him detached and irritable beyond belief. He lost count how many times Wayne was unfortunately on the wrong end of those lash outs. Every time, Eddie felt a pang of regret immediately after, but that didn't keep it from happening again and again.
Eddie was never this bad. He'd always been a good kid despite what everyone thought, despite his transcript. Wayne had no clue what to do when Eddie came back a full 180. The last thing he was expecting that day was to find his dead nephew alive and passed out on their front porch.
Wayne genuinely thought he might’ve been hallucinating. All the exhaustion had fleeted, and he rushed Eddie inside to keep him from prying eyes. It was a miracle no one saw him. When he woke, Eddie was too weak to actually explain himself, not that he even had answers to give. Eventually, Wayne just said to hell with it, and simply catered to his kid. Never in all of Eddie's years had he ever known Wayne to take a day off, but for Eddie, he took several. Three days and nights were spent aiding Eddie back to health. He fed him when he was too weak to lift a spoon and held him when he cried from head splitting nightmares. By the morning of day four, Eddie was at least able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Wayne made sure to have some food prepared for Eddie in case he got hungry during his night shift and told him to call if anything went wrong. He'd be back in a heartbeat.
As the weeks went by, Eddie became stronger and stronger, more than before. His night terrors didn't stop, but he was at least able to stop screaming and crying himself awake.
It was just two weeks ago that Eddie had done something he couldn't forgive himself for. He hurt Wayne.
He remembers the dream like  a real memory. He was taller, bigger, but, somehow, he also felt lighter. He remembers looking down at his hands and seeing his pale fingers were replaced with slender, dark gray appendages. His blunt fingernails were now black sharp claws. His back felt heavy, like someone had strapped 300 pound weights to his shoulder blades. He remembers looking down at his body and being horrified. He's a monster, a real monster. His breathing started to pick up, and he began to feel lightheaded, a dull thumping in his mind. Though he was panicked at the sight of himself, there was this itching in the back of his brain. Something was there. He had felt an urge he'd never felt before. It was dark and malevolent. It scared him. What's happening to me?! He began thrashing about at the stale air around him, an unfamiliar roar coming from within him, rumbling through his chest. It was so boisterous that it rattled his own eardrums.
He was shaken out of his dream by the sound of his uncle's voice, “Christ!” Eddie's eyes rip open, and he immediately realizes his back on the ceiling. As soon as the realization hits, he falls to his bed, bouncing off and onto the floor with a heavy thud. Still in his panicked state, he yells, scrambling to back away from an invisible horror in front of him. Wayne made the mistake of rushing to his aid.
Feeling a grip on his shoulder in the midst of his screaming panic, Eddie swings an arm around, clawing at the perpetrator. “Ah!” His uncle's voice rings out in pain. Eddie's eyes snap up to the source, finding Wayne falling back, clutching his chest. Blood escapes his skin, staining the torn front of his shirt. Eddie stares up at his shocked uncle in terror.
“Wayne!” He yells, full of concern. He reaches out to him but is immediately taken aback when he sees the black, blood soaked claws on his hand. The tips of his fingers were shade gray as if halfway turned into the monster he was in his dream. He screams in horror at the sight of his own hand.
“Son!” Wayne's voice yells. Despite the blood rising down his front, Wayne closes in on Eddie, gripping his shoulders to grab his attention. Eddie's eyes find Wayne's, and he stops screaming. Tears immediately fill his eyes, and his uncle painfully brings him into his chest, holding him tightly. As Wayne rocked side to side, Eddie could feel the warmth of his uncle’s blood smear on his face and neck. Eddie sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe as his heart pounded irregularly in his chest.
Eddie closes his eyes and leans his head against the bus window with a dull thud. He could feel his eyelashes dampen at the memory of that night, an all too familiar anxious drumming behind his ribs. This is for the best. He repeats in his head. He can't allow something like that to happen again, ever. 
Before he knows it, the bus is passing a ‘Welcome to Jericho’ sign then not too long after driving through a black metal gate that reads ‘Nevermore Academy’ at the top in a gothic font. The bus pulls to a stop into the driveway.
Wordlessly, the driver exits the bus after opening the doors for the few passengers. Eddie takes in the new location through the window. There's an older, dark skinned man with dreadlocks conversing with the bus driver, giving him a friendly greeting with a smile. Are those horns? The man helps load the few bags that were in the bus's storage compartment into a trailer on the back cart of a small vehicle. They give each other their farewells and the bus driver goes to tend to the bus while the man hops in the car to drive away.
“Hey, mister?” Eddie's gaze switches to the little boy who was now standing in the aisle looking at Eddie. He takes one of his wired earbuds out.  “It's time to get off.” The boy says timidly. Eddie nods and stands up in his seat, towering over the kid. The little boy turns to rush off the bus as Eddie puts his backpack on. He glances around the bus to realize it's empty. The girl must've already got off too.
Eddie trudged down the aisle, ducking a little to avoid bumping his head against the roof of the bus. He walks down the stairs, slowly stepping off the final one as he takes in a deep breath. The air here was a bit chilly, crisp, but it filled his lungs graciously. He walks up to stand beside the two younger kids. They stand in a line, in front of a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a monochrome, light gray outfit. She began to speak a ingenuine speech, no doubt repeated a million times to every new arrival. Eddie tuned her out, just taking in her appearance. Her eyes were a piercing blue shade, and her lips were colored red, highlighting her smile. Her teeth were white and perfectly aligned. She had an unreadable aura around her. She reminded Eddie of a shark. Her sheer existence is just off-putting.
It seemed like her speech was coming to an end as she then gestures to a student beside her. “This will be your mentor, your guide, Mr. Sheridan.” She averts her eyes to look down at the young man standing next to her. He could easily be around 18 years old, most likely a senior or something. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled perfectly. He had blue eyes, defined lips, and a strong jawline. Judging from his looks, his neat appearance, and ironed stiff school uniform, he must be this school's ‘The King’ equivalent. He held a tight, polite smile. “Mr. Sheridan here is a great student who will ensure to take good care of you. You truly are in good hands.” He looks up at the official looking lady with a bashful grin before looking back at the three. He nods to the younger kids then looks over to Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looks deadpan at the guy and the student turns to address the full group.
“It is an honor to meet you all.” His English accent rings out. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I will be your go to informant to guide you and get you accustomed to the ins and outs of our daily life here at Nevermore Academy.” Jeez, this guy sounds like a douche. Eddie thinks, using the second scripted speech to get a good look at the building and grounds from where he stood. “Please, follow me.” Eddie's attention is brought back to the senior as the kids next to him start moving.
“Welcome to Nevermore, dear students!” The lady calls out as they walk passed. Eddie ignores the spiel getting rambled off about how their first days will be laid out, instead looking around at the campus as they walk through. He's enamored by the sights the school offers. It's something straight out of a book. His chest can't help but feel a little giddy.
The campus seems strangely empty for being as large as it is. As if reading his mind, the young boy raises his hand to ask a question, “Excuse me, Mr. Sheridan?”
“Please, my name is Henry.”
“Where are all the other students?” The tan boy asks. The student, Henry, gives the shorter kid a kind smile and nods.
“Good question.” He chuckles, “Classes are in session right now. You three arrived kind of mid-day for most of us.” He looks down at his silver, expensive looking watch, causing Eddie to subconsciously do the same with his much less expensive, rubber one. 10:36 AM. Eddie drops his wrist. “Actually, this class period should be releasing some students here in about the next 15 minutes.” He looks back up at the trio with a polite grin. “We're making pretty good time. Our first stop is going to be the administrative office. We'll get your schedules. You'll get fitted for your uniforms, and we'll get your dorm keys.” He turns back around with a motion to continue following him. Eddie trails behind a little, not necessarily in any hurry.
Henry opens up the door to the office, holding it ajar for the trio to enter ahead of him. Oh, what a gentleman. Eddie fawns sarcastically in his head. Henry nods cordially at him as he passes, following behind Eddie as he enters. “Henry, my boy!” A deep voice booms, naturally demanding Eddie's attention.
“Good morning, Professor Shaw. How are you? I have our new arrivals here.” The blue eyed boy turned to gesture to the new students, all of whom were staring at the horns atop the older man’s head. Man, this guy looks something straight out of DND. His deep skin tone complimented his golden irises. He stood quite a few inches over everyone else and was obviously built sturdy underneath his neutral toned, professional attire. 
“I see! Hello, young man.” The older man directs at the little boy. “M'lady.” He nods to the teen girl nicely. He then turns to Eddie. “Mr. Edward Munson. I presume?” Eddie's brows raise, shocked to hear his name come off the older man's tongue. Great, I'm already known here by name.
“Eddie, sir.” He corrects. The man raises his brows slightly and gives a frown of approval, nodding his head.
“Eddie it is. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you all.” His attention is brought back to the other two. “I'm Professor Gardnal Shaw. I primarily work here in the admissions office, but I am also the teacher for Intro to More class, a course you all will undoubtedly be attending.” He smiles proudly. He lifts a hand towards the right side of the huge office. “If you would please, follow me.” He leads the way to a portion sectioned off behind a heavy velvet curtain, Henry second in line. The teenage girl was next then the little boy after her. Eddie towered over the both of them from behind. His eyes are forward, but he catches the young boy in front of him timidly glancing back at him. Eddie offers a ghost of a smile, not wanting to make the kid any more nervous or uncomfortable around him. The boy's eyes widen when Eddie's eyes catch his gaze. An awkward smile sneaks onto his adorable face as he quickly turns to face forward. Eddie holds in a laugh, curiosity overtaking him. Wonder what this kid got himself into.
As the group passes the threshold of the curtain, they are met with an older, glasses wearing woman. She looks like the nicest middle aged lady you’ll ever encounter the way her face lights up at the sight of new students. “Students, this is our lovely seamstress, Ms. Glenda. She will be assisting you with your uniforms.” Mr. Shaw announces with his hands clasped together in front of him.
“New arrivals!” She exclaimed excitedly.
“Good Morning, Ms. Glenda.” Henry adds. She turns to him with a kind grin, her eyes crinkling at their corners.
“Well, good morning to you, Henry. Very dashing, as always.” She compliments, motherly. The young man blushes, his bitten back smile extenuating his cheekbones. She turns her attention back to the new faces before he can come back with anything. “Now, who do we have here!” She adjusts her little, wire rimmed glasses and squints at the three. “A stunning young lady, an adorable little man, and quite a handsome young fellow, hmm.” The three all have their respective bashful, avoiding glances. “You,” All three lift their heads, but find her attention on Eddie specifically. Eddie's heart picks up slightly, nervous of what she may say next. “You, young man, are a bit older than the normal new arrivals I'm used to seeing.” She lifts her chin to look down the tip of her nose through her falling glasses. Eddie's brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flit from one face to another, awkwardly glancing at each person in the room. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Mr. Shaw buts in to take over.
“Sir Eddie here is the first of many to come. Our academy is expanding the age range of our admissions to include those who may have found changes later in life.” The man eloquently clarifies, giving Eddie a comforting grin. Great, ‘first of many’. Even amongst ‘outcasts’, I'm still an outcast.
“Ah, I see. Well, that's wonderful news.” The older lady says, voice full of warmth and welcome. She grins softly. “Well, let's get you all fitted! You've got a lot more to do today!” She smiles widely before pulling each new student in one by one to get them situated with uniforms.
The next two hours were spent in the office, getting uniforms, schedules, and supplies. Following the admin office, Henry guided them around campus, giving them a tour of the common yard, the libraries, showing them different wings for the different studies offered before finally leading them to the massive cafeteria.
The café had two levels. The main floor held a buffet spread of rotating foods, vending machines, and several rows of tables. The second floor was a balcony that had additional seating overlooking the main floor. On the far side of the cafeteria was floor to ceiling windows, presenting a mystical view of the Vermont countryside. “Alright, I think this is a perfect time as any to take a break and get some lunch.” Henry announced, looking down at his watch to see the time as 12:45 PM. “Take an hour to relax and eat. I'll be back to collect you three around 1:45, so we can head to the dorms for you all to get settled in. For now, help yourselves to whatever you’d like.” The uniformed guide clasps his hands together, gives them a nod, and walks away.
The two kids glance at each other then at Eddie. The teenage girl walks off first. The little boy glances back to Eddie after watching the girl walk away. He looks like he wants to say something, which Eddie raises a brow to, but ultimately, he scurries away.
Eddie sighs and follows suit, assembling himself a plate of food that appears too appetizing to be a school lunch. He spots an empty seat next to the massive windows on the main floor. He’s one of the only few not wearing a uniform, so on top of his obvious age difference, his attire makes him stand out like a sore thumb. This causes him to catch a couple curious glances from some passing students, nothing he isn’t already used to.
As he walks to the empty table, he gets a pretty decent idea of different cliques. Even in this world, high schoolers aren't too different. On top of grouping up by sport or ‘status’, one of the obvious differences is that some are separated by species.
Eddie had to use everything in him not to stare at some of the more obvious ones, some with unnaturally colored skin tones, some with horns, others with tusks for canines. It was incredible to see in person something he’d only ever imagined or seen in movies and books. Man, what the guys would say about this. He shakes his head, looking down with a small chuckle. He successfully makes it to the targeted seat without issue. He drops his bag to the floor beneath him and starts eating, “Mmmm.” Holy shit. The food here is just as good as it looks. He hums to himself. After that first bite, suddenly all the hunger his emotions were hiding came to the surface. His stomach growled, begging for more. He scarfs down half his plate before something out the corner of his eye catches his attention.
Outside, several feet down in somewhat of a courtyard he’d had yet to tour, there was a group of students. Are those real? The thing that caught his eyes was the glimmering of metal. The afternoon sun reflecting off steel weapons and shields. Eddie drops his hands to the table to watch the commotion going on outside. There were stairs that led off the slide of the cliff that held the main school building. There were two students walking down them with trays of food. On their uniform jackets were added emblems that took up most of the space on their back panels. It was difficult to get a clear view of the royal purple embroidery from this far, but from what Eddie could tell, it looked like a sword with wings where the cross guard should be.
Eddie’s brows draw closer together as he squints to try and get a better look at the group below. All of the ones sparring had taken their jackets off. The others that were seated and eating were too small for Eddie to see their jackets any clearer, but he does notice one person in particular. 
Atop a boulder on the edge of the courtyard stood an observer dressed in the same purple and black striped uniform jacket and black pants. This observer had a golden sash hanging across their torso, fastened together at the hip, something only seen on royal families. They seemed to be yelling out orders or instructions ever so often. Standing next to the boulder was another onlooker.
This person had short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a hard gaze. Their white button down shirt was tucked into their black uniform pants. Even from this distance, Eddie could see the white long sleeves were struggling to contain their crossed, muscular arms. Jesus, who are these people? Eddie looks down in shock. Eddie’s eyes are back on the golden sash student as they hop down from their high point to go up to the two sparrers.
Taking one of the swords as they talk, they ready themselves for what seems to be a demonstration. Eddie watches as they start swinging the sword around, immediately catching the attention of all the other students around. They can be seen talking as they move so fiercely. Each swing of the sword is incredibly controlled and impactful. The fight is intense, yet the observer is basically floating, light on their feet, still talking. Everything done was talked through and masterfully executed. You definitely had to be their leader.
Without much difficulty, you were able to disarm your opponent, turning to the one you assumed the place of with a nod, handing them back their sword. Some of the students watching even clapped. Eddie looked on in disbelief at the scene that just unfolded. Wow. He looks down at his half empty plate. Those look like real heroes.
The rest of his lunch was spent taking bites of his food as he looked out the window, utterly intrigued. A cough of someone clearing their throat brings Eddie out of his trance. He whips his head around to see Henry the Guide looking down at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time I take you to your dorm for you to become acquainted with your new roommate.” He says with a small, kind, and a little awkward smile. Eddie raises his brow and nods.
“Whatever you say,” Eddie stands, bringing his backpack up with him. He stands an inch or so above Henry. He cocks his head to the side and gives him a sarcastic grin. “Dashing young fellow.” Eddie says, mimicking Henry's English accent. Henry’s small smile drops a bit. He sighs, a small glare squinting his eyes.
“We’ll be waiting for you over by the doors.” He turns and strides away. Eddie huffs out a puff of air. He picks up the remnants of his lunch and drops it off at a trash can on his way to where Henry and the other two new kids stand. “Alright, now that we’re all here.” He smiles sarcastically at Eddie before turning to the other two with a more genuine smile. “Let’s head to the dorms.”
Henry leads the three to the different student housing areas. They dropped off the teenage girl to her building, Henry handing her off to that building’s dorm manager. Next was the young boy Eddie would come to know as Anthony. He was dropped off at his door as he, Eddie, and Henry all stayed in the same building. Once he disappeared behind the door with his new roommate, Henry and Eddie were left alone. “Come on.” Henry says, walking away without sparing another glance at Eddie. Eddie’s lip turns up in a grimace.
“Hey, man. Careful with the attitude.” He bites back, catching up with Henry. He scoffs.
“Me? You’re the one with an attitude, young fellow.” Henry gives Eddie a hard look. Eddie is stubborn with his defiance.
“Whatever, man.” Eddie scoffs and looks away.
“Listen, I understand if you are not necessarily happy to be here, but you don’t need to be rude.” Eddie’s brows raise in disbelief.
“I’m not being rude, and don’t act like you know anything about me. You’re the one who gave me a weird look the second I get here.” Eddie shoots back. Henry sighs.
“Like Shaw said, we don’t usually get new students over the age of 16, so I was just a bit caught off guard. I admit it may have not been very welcoming, but I don’t think that should get me on your bad side before we’ve even gotten to know each other.” Henry goes on.
Eddie glances over at the guide through his peripheral. They enter the empty elevator, heading up. Henry stares forward with his jaw clenched, obviously annoyed that he has to be in an enclosed space with Eddie. There’s a few seconds of silence after the doors close before Eddie sighs.
“Look, man.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry. These past few months have really turned my world… upside down.” Eddie frowns with a thousand yard stare. Henry spares Eddie a glance over his shoulder. Eddie rolls his shoulders back, bringing himself back to reality. “I’m used to being Eddie ‘The Freak’. Ironically, even here I’m a freak among ‘freaks’.” The way Henry doesn’t even bat an eye at being called a freak is a bit strange for Eddie. “I guess, I just came in swingin’, preemptively judging you too early.” Eddie tilts his head. “You kind of remind me of this one guy, ‘The King’ of Hawkins. He was a pretty big asshole to ‘freaks’." Henry nods understandingly. “But, what do you know, he turned out alright when I met him again later.” Eddie sighs, “Sorry.”
“You know, you should realize something,” Eddie looks up, eyes on the back of Henry’s head as he stares forward. “Nevermore is a school just like every other, but most people here are coming from a place in your shoes. Sometimes people here forget, but outside these walls, beyond that gate, we’re all just freaks, monsters,... evil to the rest of the world.” Henry looks down the bridge of his proud nose with a familiar distant stare. The elevator doors open and Henry walks out without missing a beat.
They pass a few doors before Henry speaks up again. “I am your ‘mentor’,” He halts in front of a door, turning to Eddie, “I am not your enemy.” He looks Eddie in the eyes with determination, trying to get through to him. “You should know, even if we are not meant to be ‘friends’, I am still an ally. If you need help with anything, you can reach out to me.” Eddie holds Henry’s gaze, unsure of what to say next. He’s never gotten an actual warm welcome before. Henry’s lips form a thin line as he gives Eddie a tight smile before nodding once. He lifts a hand to knock on the door they are outside of.
There's stumbling and a commotion on the other side of the door. Eddie’s brows crease in suspicion at the noises, but Henry just sighs and rolls his eyes. The door swings open revealing a young, dark skinned boy with wide, shocked eyes. He was huffing like he just ran a marathon, undoubtedly from stumbling over stuff in the room to get to the door. “Junior.” Henry says in a warning tone through gritted teeth and an annoyed smile. Junior avoids Henry’s eyes by awkwardly staring at anything on the floor.
Eddie glances between Henry and the kid, Junior. Henry turns to Eddie, “Eddie, meet Junior,” He turns to gesture to the kid. “Your new roommate.” Henry raises a threatening brow at Junior. “Junior, meet Eddie.”
“H-Hi,” The kid’s voice cracks awkwardly, “Come- Come on in.” Junior turns to walk away from the door, going further into the room. Eddie glances one last time at Henry. Henry looks over to Eddie with a sigh and raises his brows.
“Good luck.” He mutters as he walks away. Before Eddie can follow up with Henry’s concerning final words, Junior starts rambling.
“Here, over here is your bed, obviously as it’s the empty one, and over here is mine, obviously. Um, I moved some things around, but you’re more than welcome to move anything around how you’d like, I mean, as long as, you know, you leave my side of things alone, unless you want this side, we- we can figure something out that works for both of us. Over there,” he turns to point at a door next to the one Eddie just entered through. “That- That’s the bathroom. It’s pretty nice, we have a tub, shower, sink, toilet, everything needed, and, uh,” Junior keeps rambling as Eddie slowly walks through the space.
It’s shockingly spacious. Once he passes the entryway, the place expands into a large, square room. This is nothing Eddie expected for a dorm. The full-sized beds are on opposite sides of the room with enough respective furniture for two people. Each side has its own bed, dresser, desk with a lamp and chair. Junior has a foldable, wooden divider next to his bed, blocking his bed from Eddie’s. On either side of the room were two archways leading into an extra individual area. Without being too nosy, Eddie could see that Junior’s side has a plant and a bookshelf. His side seemed a bit barren.
Eddie back glances at Junior’s side, finding it an odd mixture of neat and messy. The younger’s clothes were filling a dirty laundry hamper to the brim, but there was not a trace of anything on his floor. His mirror was squeaky clean, but his dresser had different, mismatched knickknacks littered over the top. His desk had papers spewed all over with multiple open books, but the chair was tucked in and pens, markers, and pencils were organized by color and size in a storage container. His bed wasn’t made, but he had shiny shoes neatly lined under the bed frame.
The rambling kid himself was set up in a similar fashion, his appearance is pristine, his white shirt tucked into ironed pants, shoes shined, necktie tightened and perfectly aligned, but man, the kid would not take a breath. “It’s nice to meet you.” Eddie interrupts whatever he was on about. Junior comes to a complete stop, turning to Eddie with raised brows.
“Sorry, I forgot my manners.” He shoots out a hand with his chin lifted high, back straight as a board in perfect posture. “Junior Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister.” Eddie slowly reaches out to shake Junior’s hand. He raises a brow with a small smile.
“Shaw?” They shake hands for a bit too long due to Junior not knowing when to let go.
“Yeah… He’s my dad.” Junior tilts his chin down to hide his face. This is the first time Eddie notices the small horns growing atop his head, just barely peeking out in his thick dark hair. Eddie nods as his smile grows. “Oh.” Junior drops his hand. “Sorry.” The awkwardness of the kid makes Eddie’s heart swell. It’s oddly comforting. “Uh…” Junior trails, seemingly trying to fill the silence but not knowing what to say.
Eddie walks off, heading over to his side of the room. His eyes immediately land on the bed, seeing his new uniforms and his old suitcase. That was fast. He runs his fingers gently across the striped fabric. “Oh!” Junior says abruptly, grabbing Eddie’s attention. He turns to see Junior running to his dresser, picking something up, and turning to rush up to give it to Eddie. “Here.” He hands Eddie a small welcoming gift. It was a gift basket with some pens, pencils, notebooks, and other miscellaneous school supplies. On top of it all was a purple card with gold writing on it. ‘Welcome, Edward!’ it read, causing Eddie to bite back a small smile. “I know,” He raises a brow looking up from the basket to Junior. “It’s kind of cheesy, but my dad said giving you a welcome gift would make you feel more… welcome… yeah.” He says. Eddie gives him a kind smile.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Welcome.” He says before walking away to go to his desk and sit in the wooden chair. Eddie takes a seat on his bed, next to his uniforms, and places the welcome gift beside him on top of the neatly folded clothes. “So, uh…” Junior starts, “You’re kind of old…er… older. Older than the usual new students.” Eddie chuckles and nods.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just curious, is all. Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ve been getting it all day.” He tilts his head. “You know I’m not old. I’m only 19, going to be 20 this year.” Junior nods without looking up at him, instead focusing his eyes on the papers on his desk.
“That’s cool. My dad told me we’re taking in more students, probably opening up a new department or something like that. So, how’d you end up here?” Junior asks absentmindedly. The question takes Eddie off guard a little. What is he supposed to say? He turned into a monster and attacked his uncle after dying in battle in an alternate dimension. Would that make sense even here? Junior takes Eddie’s elongated silence as a sign. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell. Told you, I’m just curious, probably too much for my own good.”
“I… acquired some new… powers?” Eddie thinks of how to word an explanation without going too in depth. “So, I got sent here to try and help… control them.”
“Oh, an Acquirer. That makes sense.” Eddie tilts his head in intrigue at the new title, but before Eddie can ask for clarification, Junior bombards him with some questions. “Have you looked at any of your classes yet, seen any clubs, you know, if you’re into that? Were you in any clubs or sports back when you were in your old school?”
“No,” he chuckles, “No sports. I’m not a sports guy.” Junior nods. “But I did have a club I was leading, called Hellfire.” Junior turns in his chair to look at Eddie with a curious look.
“Hellfire? What was it about?” Eddie’s eyes light up a bit, now that’s a question he loved to answer.
“Well, it was a mystical gathering of the most daring and creative minds.” Eddie began with a smirk and squinted eyes, enjoying the familiar innocent curiosity on the young boy’s face. “Creatures of all kinds, from all over would gather to travel together and fight great battles, solve fantastical mysteries, and establish their title as heroes.” Eddie says in a theatrical tone, drawing Junior’s interest. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and looking down. “It was a club where I would host DND campaigns after school.” He smiled, reminiscing. Junior raises his brows and nods.
“Oh, I’ve heard about DND! Sounds a lot like Slayers, just minus the tabletop portion.” Eddie lifts his head to the smiling boy.
“Slayers, huh?’ Junior nods.
“Yeah, Dungeon Slayers Club, officially, but we just call it Slayers for short. It was kind of inspired by DND, but you know, we’re the actual ‘creatures’.” Junior explains. “It takes all the fun of DND and brings it into real life. We really train and fight and go on quests and everything. It’s really fun.” He beams.
“Is that the club with the emblems on their backs, the group of students out in that courtyard during lunch?” Junior’s brows raise.
“Yeah. I wasn’t there during lunch today. Usually, the lunch gatherings are just us hanging out during our break. The real club takes place after school.” Junior says matter-of-factly. “First official meetup of the season is tomorrow.” Eddie nods.
“Think I can come and check it out?” Junior's brows raise again, and his eyes go wide.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I mean, we’re always welcoming to new people, at least they were with me. I was the last person who joined, but, uh we’re not really the most popular group.” He rambles. “Slayers doesn’t really have the best reputation. It’s kind of…infamous? Most of the other students see us as a paranoid bunch of…well, losers, like end of the world preppers or stuck in the past people or whatever. I don’t know if you’d want to start yourself out by associating yourself with us. You- You may want to check out something else like the fencing team or- or something” He says bouncing his gaze around in one of his awkward antics.
“No,” Eddie stops him, “I want to check it out.” He says firmly. Junior, though a bit shocked, becomes excited.
“Oh Okay, well, tomorrow then, I can bring you with me to the club during lunch so you can meet some of the members and maybe we can get you to talk to the leader. They’re awesome.” Junior begins with a glint in his eye. “They’ve been heading Slayers for, like, the last four years, been in the club for even longer. They’re so cool, really.” He says seriously, nodding his head. “If the world ever did come to an end. They’re definitely someone you’d want on your side. They’re, like, really amazing. They can out fight and out smart anybody, I swear.” He nods in approval. Eddie smiles. I wonder if this is how they talk about me. I hope so. Junior turns back to the homework on his desk, “They’re a great leader. You’d like them, 100%.” He nods again.
Eddie and Junior sit in a comfortable silence, the loudest noise coming from Junior’s pencil against paper. Eddie stands after a minute or two and begins unpacking his things, organizing his half how he wants. “Do you usually study in silence, or is it just cause I’m here?” Eddie asks as he closes his last drawer and turns to look at the back of Junior.
“No, I usually work this way. Sorry if that’s weird, but- but don’t worry about me. If you want to play music or watch something, don’t worry about me.” He lifts a hand to wave dismissively. Eddie nods and walks away from the dresser.
“You know, I think I’m going to do a little exploring.” Eddie announces as he heads to the door. Junior lifts his head.
“Oh, do you want me to come with? I could help show you around.” He offers, but Eddie shakes his head with a wave of his hand.
“No, just continue with your work. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna wonder and get familiar.” Eddie says with a small smile. “Be back later, kid.” He turns to leave without another word.
As soon as Eddie is outside of the dorm building, he decides to just pick a direction and start walking. He walks around the campus, again getting some looks from passing students as he’s the only one out of uniform. He leisurely wanders around, eventually stopping in an outdoor hallway that surrounds a small courtyard in the middle of one of the buildings. As he stands there, he stares at a familiar stranger’s face.
You were sitting at the end of a wooden bench at one of the picnic tables. In front of you, sat on top of the table was a boy with ivory skin and brown, fluffy, curly hair. He was slim but obviously muscular and had a killer smile that you couldn't help but return. Sat beside you was the same onlooker he saw earlier, the one who stood beside the boulder at lunch.
She seemed a bit more relaxed and was leaning on her elbows that were rested on the table in front of her. Her brown waves were loose from their little ponytail and now let down, cropped at her shoulders. She was also looking up at the boy who was talking, quite animated, about something Eddie couldn't quite hear.
Though you didn't know of his existence and he had never spoken a word to you, Eddie couldn’t help but admire your smile. It was easy to get distracted by you. Aside from being a total warrior badass, you were simply gorgeous. The shine in your eyes, the way the world around you brightens with your smile, the curves of your nose, the creases of your face as it contorts with laughter. This is the leader of the ‘infamous' ‘loser’ club? It was confusing. Eddie couldn't comprehend how anyone could not like whatever had your stamp of approval. You and your personality screamed positively infectious and contagious. It was plain to see. Even from a distance, Junior’s fanboying over you made total sense.
Eddie stood in the shadows of the hall just watching you and your interactions with your friends. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. Abruptly he winces, flinching at the all too familiar feeling in his brain.
The sharp migraines he'd gotten ever since waking up in that place have started to dull, feeling more akin to an unreachable itch or a fuzzy static. He didn't know if the pain was weaker or if he was just building a tolerance. Eddie sighs, opening his eyes to see you and your friends standing and collecting your things. Before any of you can notice his presence, he takes his leave, disappearing out of the courtyard corridors and closing in on a new found back exit off campus.
Eddie walks along the road that leads up to the campus before he makes his way into the wooded area that lines the pavement. Once he feels he's gone far enough, the buzzing itch returns. He groans, annoyed at the feeling.
He knows he's alone out here, but he can't help himself from looking around him to see if anyone is watching. Once he decides the coast is clear, he kneels down, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He reaches a hand out and rests it on the massive trunk of the fallen tree he'd stopped in front of. He takes deep breaths during the entire exchange, feeling the wood beneath his fingers shift.
The feeling of a numb rush floods his veins as the headache dissipates. He knows that means he's done right. He opens his eyes, seeing the newly opened glowing gate. Again, he looks around him before looking back at the portal. Every time he opens a new door between worlds, that area in the back of his brain tells him he's done something right, but his heart still makes him feel like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, constantly scared he's going to get caught doing something he's not supposed to.
One of these new found powers of his was the ability to open passages from this world to the other. At first, it felt wrong. There were so many bad memories there, but he'd always felt compelled to open these doors. Now, it's more so akin to a guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn't enjoy, but he can't resist. It calls to him. Plus if Vecna is dead, what is so wrong about it?
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Evermore Tag List (OPEN):
@ali-r3n  @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson  @starmilks @ohmeg
Swisslist (General Tag List):
@rosecentury @solacedthistest
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vodika-vibes · 7 hours
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hiiii, so i was deep down the rabbit hole a couple days ago and i saw a post of yours talking about which of the clones would mesh well with an ace reader. the two i remember were tup and alpha-17. i was wondering if you could write something where reader is kinda hesitant to tell their new partner because the troopers are kinda intense but they’re super reassuring and it’s very fluffy.
Confession
Summary: You’ve recently started dating Tup, and you know you need to have a conversation with him. You’re just a little anxious about it.
Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x Reader
Word Count: 1030
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I wasn't sure if you wanted short little drabbles for both Alpha and Tup, or a longer fic with one or the other, so I decided to go with a longer fic with Tup. I hope you don't mind. Also, I hope this is soft and fluffy like you wanted!
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“So this is where you live?” Tup asks as he peers around your apartment, taking in the family photos of you with your parents and siblings, the variety of random paintings that you’ve acquired over the years, and the old and unmatched furniture that gives your home a kind of eclectic vibe.
You like it, though you know that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.
“Yeah,” You say with a nervous smile, “This is me. I’m the youngest in my family, so when I moved out my siblings and parents and grandparents dumped all of their old furniture on me-”
“I like it. It suits you.” Tup interrupts with a grin.
You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant to be one, don’t worry.” Tup wanders over to the corner, where there’s a basket full of toddler toys, “You babysit a lot?”
“My older brother works a lot, and since his wife walked out on them-” You shrug and stoop to grab a stuffed tooka that didn’t make its way into the toybox after the last time you watched the twins, “I offered to help every so often. Mom had a doctors appointment last week, so I got the twins for a couple of hours.”
“It’s nice that you’re willing to help your family.” Tup replies easily.
You shrug awkwardly, “Well, he’s my brother. And the twins are pretty cool, you know, for toddlers.”
He laughs softly, and favors you with a smile that’s so warm and soft that you feel momentarily guilty for what you’re about to say to him. And then you’re annoyed at yourself for feeling guilty.
“You said that there’s something that you needed to tell me?” Tup prompts as he kneels down to pick up some more toys that had fallen out of the chest. “Do you need to reschedule our date for this weekend to watch the twins?”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” You reassure, “I’m looking forward to our date this weekend. But there’s something you need to know about me before we do that. And I probably should have told you before hand but-” You trail off with a shrug, “I was worried that you’d run off.”
Tup stares at you, “Alright,” He says slowly, “You have my attention.”
You press your fingers together, and take a deep breath. “I’m asexual.” You blurt out, rather than spewing into the speech that you prepared and obsessed over for the last several days.
Tup blinks at you.
“Um, so, that means that I don’t really feel-”
“I know what it means, cyare.” Tup interrupts gently, absolutely no heat in his voice, and when you chance a glance at him, he’s still watching you with that soft and sweet expression on his face.
“Oh. Right. Of course.”
Tup stands and walks over to you, “Am I allowed to touch you, cyare?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He smiles and his hand comes up to press against your cheek, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, though there was something almost soothing about it too. “Thank you for telling me.” Tup says quietly.
“Yeah, well...it is an important thing for you to know.” You reply.
“It is.” He agrees, “We’ll have to sit down and talk about what hard limits you have at some point-”
“Wait! You’re not breaking up with me?” You blurt.
“...do you want me to?” Tup asks, bewildered.
“No! Of course not! I just...I...normally people-” You trail off, unable to finish your statement, “It’s either a hard breaking point or they think that I’m broken.” You finish lamely, and more than a little bitterly.
“Right...so. First off, I’m a full grown man and I’m more than capable of taking care of my needs on my own,” Tup says dryly, “Second of all, you’re not broken. That’s a disgusting way for anyone to talk about you. It’s not like you picked your sexuality.”
You laugh softly, “You’d be surprised at how often people think differently.”
“Well, I don’t. I’m not going to break up with you over something so easily navigated.” Tup says, “I’m not going to break up with you unless you want to break up. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m glad for it.” You admit quietly.
Tup lightly tugs you into a hug, his arms tight and comforting around you. “I have an idea.”
“Hm?”
“Since I’m already here, how about we have a date night?”
You shift your head on his shoulder to look at him curiously, “Date night?”
“Mm, we can order in and watch a holo.” Tup offers temptingly.
“That does sound very enjoyable,” You murmur thoughtfully, “There’s a place near here that’s really good.”
“I’m filled with good ideas,” Tup brags with a small grin.
“Hm, is that right? Would your brothers agree if I asked them?” You tease.
“No, but that’s because they have horrible taste.” Tup replies.
“Do they?”
“Yep. Have you seen some of their tattoos?”
“Tup...you have a teardrop tattooed on your face.”
“And I look amazing, yes, I know.”
You press your face against his shoulder and dissolve into giggles, “I’m going to go get my datapad so we can order food, you absolutely ridiculous man.”
He grins at you and presses a light kiss to your forehead, “Feeling better, cyare?”
You grin right back at him, “I do. I don’t know why I was so nervous.”
“Because I’m intimidating.” Tup says solemnly, though there’s laughter written on his face.
“Oh, naturally.” You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “If you’re not careful, I’m going to fall in love with you, Tup.”
“Oh good, my evil plan is working.”
You dissolve into laughter again, “If you keep this up I’m not going to be able to order us dinner.” You warn.
“Well, we can’t have that.” Tup cups your face with both of his hands, “Can I kiss you?”
“I’d like that,”
His leans in and brushes his lips across your lips in a ghost of a kiss, and then he laughs into the kiss as you pull him down into a proper kiss. “Impatient.” He chides.
“Yes, I am.”
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innytoes · 1 month
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From the subconscious that brought you the Quiet AU, it's time for Inny's Brain Comes Up With Another 100k fic she's never going to write while she's dreaming.
Okay so it's the Post Apocalypse. The apocalypse happened a few years ago, there was a horrible plague that makes you bleed from your eyes and maybe some other things, a lot of humanity was wiped out, chaos, destruction, blabla.
We start with Our Heroes travelling on foot. Luke is telling them this area seems familiar, and Alex and Reggie realise they're near where Bobby's family had a cabin. They decide to veer off because Alex remembers where Bobby hid the emergency key. Not that they haven't done their fare share of breaking and entering, but it would be nice to, you know, not have to.
Also maybe they want to see if Bobby is there. Because even though they split with a lot of bad blood between them over some stolen songs, the apocalypse makes you miss old friends.
Julie and Willie are like: um excuse me that is not a cabin that is a Log Mansion. It's three fucking stories. (It also had the exact layout as my grandmother's old house, because this is my brain, which is funny because my grandmother's house was very much not a log cabin).
And then SHOCK AND GASP Bobby comes out. He has the Trevor Wilson Beard and Man Bun and is just... staring like he's seen three ghosts... and two random people he doesn't know, I guess.
There is a big sappy reunion and a big talk and apology and blabla of course they can stay. There's more cabins around the place and they've made themselves a little farming community. They trade with the other little the towns in the area, but they haven't heard much from the bigger city in the while.
"Um yeah, maybe... maybe don't go to the city," Luke says. Reggie is very pale. Willie mutters about how there was plenty of stuff that could still be looted (as long as you don't mind all the dead bodies is left unsaid).
They settle in at Bobby's house and become part of the community, finding jobs. Willie does indeed go with some of the more brave individuals to the city to search for supplies. The whole community has like one working truck because gas is hard to find these days.
Some traveling trader comes by and he's basically on a giant sled on wheels pulled by huskies and predictably Reggie loses his mind and gets to play with the doggies.
There comes a night when Reggie can't sleep, so he's the only one awake to hear the car. Two cars. A group of four with two cars is bound to mean trouble, so he wakes everyone up because there's a high chance there's raiders.
The people are breaking in and Reggie goes downstairs to greet/distract them, playing the clueless guy, welcoming them and being like 'oh hey are you lost do you need help? We're looking for a bartender if you need a job' and basically being in the way and these four people are just so confused because they broke into his house and he's so cheerful about it.
One of them was injured and Reggie more seriously offers the first aid kit and just when they were about to be like 'fuck it let's just murder him and raid the place', where comes Julie and Luke with the shot guns. Meanwhile Alex, Willie, and Bobby were checking out their cars and alerting the neighbours about trouble and OH SHIT ONE OF THEM IS BLEEDING FROM THE EYES HE'S INFECTED.
Cue fuzzy chaotic time jump because I woke up with a dry mouth lol.
For some reason Bobby disappeared from the dream after this so maybe poor Bobbers got shot in the show down with the raiders. Or got hit by the car of the other three fleeing, leaving behind their infected friend.
The gang stays in Bobby's house, though, and slowly, Juke and Willex drift together. When they were travelling, they usually all slept together, but now...
Reggie, who is still grieving Bobby, and maybe blaming himself because he wasn't good enough at distracting the raiders, sees the other two couples drift together and decides to stay out of their way. He can't sleep anyway, since he was the only one awake to catch the raiders in the first place.
So he starts sleeping less, and less, spending less time with his friends because he wanted them to have time together... Pining because he's secretly a little in love with all of them, but they clearly don't want him.
Until he was suuuper stoked because he found a puppy. It was so cute, and he wants to show his friends, and they're so freaked out because Reggie, there is no puppy...
Turns out Reggie was hallucinating from lack of sleep, and he's so confused because he's CLEARLY HOLDING A PUPPY WHAT DO YOU MEAN and then the whole thing kind of comes out and not only is Reggie heartbroken when the hallucination shatters and vanishes, but he also confesses how he's in love them with but they clearly chose their partners and not him.
And both Juke and Willex are like: we've missed you, doofus, we love you, we didn't want to make you chose between us, we were scared you were mad at us for both flirting with you.
And they all live as happily ever after as you can in the post-apocalypse.
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inbarfink · 8 months
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When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -
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It was trying to turn him into this guy.
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At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -
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And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -
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And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -
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That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 
But everything else?
Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.
At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 
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But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.
And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 
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Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 
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As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 
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And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 
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Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.
That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!
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Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).
Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on
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But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.
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At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.
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There might be several factors here:
First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 
First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.
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And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’
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(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).
And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.
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Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 
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Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.
Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.
And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?
Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.
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drchucktingle · 4 months
Text
my masks
hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.
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im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 
lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 
unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.
the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.
ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield
anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum
when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 
later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.
HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.
anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 
when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.
one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’
so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?
my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)
from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 
the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.
eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.
lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.
this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.
the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.
a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 
fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist
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screampied · 10 days
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‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)
wc. 6k
warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.
dbf! toji masterlist
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“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”
you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…
just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.
skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”
“oh yeah?”
as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”
“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”
“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”
“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”
you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.
three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower
wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol
shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????
kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)
iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin
“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”
“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.
your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.
he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”
toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.
of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.
you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…
“i meant what i said,” you mutter.
while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”
his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”
with such simple words, trust and believe he does.
toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.
for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.
your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”
“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.
oh, you were soaked alright.
a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”
dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”
you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.
although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.
BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this
gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…
FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<
you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.
squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.
“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.
side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.
candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.
so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.
“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”
his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.
each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.
after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.
“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”
“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.
he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.
toji fushiguro…
a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?
. . .
unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?
once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.
that was . . embarrassing.
the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.
oops.
“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.
you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.
all thanks to toji.
you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”
“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”
your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.
chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up
zorosballswallower: NOOOOO
anonymoususer: dad?
gojoclitoru: lol no.
and with many others the comments continue to flood.
majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”
“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.
“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”
my girl…
for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.
he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.
“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”
“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”
“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.
it hits you like a semi-truck.
illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.
in your mind, you’re thinking . .
finally, the good part.
toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”
so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.
the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”
“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.
testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.
the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.
with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…
you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”
“huh?”
“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”
glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.
“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.
“please what?”
“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.
toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”
you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.
“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.
a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.
arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.
“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )
and toji’s just so fucking big.
he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.
metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.
the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.
a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.
languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.
toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.
“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.
“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”
“i missed you t—.”
“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”
you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.
“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.
it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.
with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.
gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(
willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…
iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru
hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom
your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.
he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.
the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.
“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”
“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”
“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”
he was right.
then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.
you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.
“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.
you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.
he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.
sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”
“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.
“yes what, girl.”
you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.
“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”
toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.
shit.
he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.
“honeyyy? you up there?”
you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.
already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.
maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.
dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.
“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”
his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.
eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.
“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.
so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.
“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.
“come here, princess.”
it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.
you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.
simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.
breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.
toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.
“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.
“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.
you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.
it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.
and yet for once, you have him speechless.
toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”
“ . . . ”
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allywthsr · 2 months
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24hrs with Lando | (l.norris)
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summary: you also follow Lando‘s daily routine in the new quadrant video
wordcount: 1.8k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of smut
notes: requested! Kinda rushed and don’t like it as much as I hoped I would :/
requests are closed!
When the doorbell rang, Lando jumped up from the couch and opened the door, today was going to be hard, but fun, you knew it. You followed Lando and welcomed Ethan and Morgan to your Monaco home, after a quick hug you also said hello to the camera, it wasn’t unusual for you to be in front of the camera, and being Lando Norris’ girlfriend comes with that. Because you were a fan favorite, they wanted you to join him for the next a day in the life video, and who were you to deny their wishes?
The day started with showing the boys and the crew around your apartment, Morgan breaking the case of Lando’s trophy and the next thing was breakfast.
The overnight oats weren’t on your normal breakfast schedule, you were more of a toast person, but for the sake of the video you ate it, making the same jokes as Ethan, saying you were full after a few bites. You stood next to Lando and offered him the rest of yours, he actually kind of liked what he was eating, and wasting food wasn’t good, so he happily ate the rest of yours.
“Yo mate, wanna eat mine too? I only spit slightly in it.“
“Nah, I’m good, I don’t care about Y/N’s spit, but I don’t want to eat yours.“
“I bet you don’t care about her spit, probably eating different things too.“
Lando laughed high-pitched and you blushed, thinking about this morning where he went down on you, making you moan and yanking on his hair until you two really had to get up.
The kitchen was filled with laughter and jokes until it was time for the workout, this was something you were used to, often joining Lando for a workout, but your own workout. You and Jon had created a workout specifically made for you, you weren’t training your neck, but a full-body workout was almost on the daily agenda.
You all went to the small home gym, and Lando looked for the resistance bands.
“They might be in our bedroom.“
“How’ve the workout bands made it to the bedroom?“, Ethan asked while Lando went and grabbed them off his bedside table, again, you blushed and turned around, so you faced the wall, laughing quietly. While the boys gasped you remembered the night before, you two forgot your handcuffs at the last hotel you were in and forgot to get new ones, so yesterday Lando wanted to tie your hands up, he couldn’t think of something else to use but the workout bands, quickly grabbing them from the gym and he could finally tie your hands to the headboard. Clearly forgetting to put them back in the morning.
When Lando came back and found the three of you giggling, well, Ethan and Morgan and you stood against the wall blushing, he knew what the topic was, a slight red tone covered his cheeks as well, he wasn’t ashamed of what people would think, but he knew his friends wouldn’t let him live that down easily.
“I’m not going to comment on that“, Lando grinned and put an arm around your shoulder while turning you back around.
The workout wasn’t as fun as the breakfast was, Lando showed the exercise before the three of you repeated it, and you did work out, but Lando’s workout was harder and with more weight than yours was, lets not even begin with the neck training, you saw Lando suffering every day, but doing it yourself was probably the hardest thing ever. You’ve tried it before, as a joke, Jon barely pulled on your neck, to not hurt it, but you almost cried when he did, and he barely used any weight.
You trusted Lando, and he knew to use barely any weight at all, he slightly pulled the thing on your head and you were already struggling to hold your head straight. With a pout, you looked at Lando and he knew that was your sign to stop, he removed the device from your head and kissed your forehead, to make up for causing you pain.
Morgan commented this with a quiet ‘Aww’, which you smiled away, you weren’t hiding the PDA in front of the camera, but you also didn’t shove it in anyone's face, which was why it always made you a little uncomfortable. You knew this would be all over Tumblr, TikTok, and Reddit when the video came out, you could already hear the comments, not that they would be bad, but the fangirls would freak out, good and bad.
The boys laughed while doing the neck workout, you also couldn’t keep your laugh in, it looked funny, but you weren’t better. The comments from the boys were the funniest too, especially when Ethan made that comment about being pulled by Lando into his crotch when Morgan said he would let go, you let out a laugh, “Y/N has let go before, I know that“, with a gasp, you hit him lightly on the shoulder.
When Lando did it, it was no surprise that he looked brilliant while doing it, you were used to pulling on the rope, Jon wasn’t always around and you tried it once, and weren’t too bad at it, so it was a normal thing for you. You had to almost put your whole body to work to challenge his neck, but you did it perfectly in his eyes.
Ethan and Morgan were surprised by how much power you could put in when doing that, Lando couldn’t be prouder of you, thanking you silently with a squeeze of his arms when you were done.
Next was the protein shake, this also wasn’t something new for you, Jon always provided a shake for you too, and you were happy that he included you like that, ordering you pre-made food when you tell him, you don’t have time to cook a meal.
After the shake, it was time for the cryotherapy, you’ve never done that before, and weren’t too opposed to trying it out either. You knew Lando wasn’t the biggest fan of it, and it wasn’t a normal coldness, it was fucking freezing. The cryotherapy wasn’t too far away from your apartment, so you walked there, getting some steps in and breathing some fresh air, everyone joked about it, but you knew they all would be shaking in a few minutes.
Because you didn’t want to stand there in your lingerie, you changed into a bathing suit and met with the guys in front of the door to the frozen hell, you were given gloves, masks, and the cute headbands, to keep the most important parts of the body somewhat warm. You did check out Lando in his boxers, and you loved the Calvin Kleins on him, the fabric did little to hide what he was trying to cover up, and that got you drooling, not only in your mouth, but you just hoped you couldn’t freeze from the inside.
Together with the boys you got in the cabin and looked at Lando with big eyes, you knew it would be cold, but you didn’t know it would be THAT cold.
When Lando said his mustache is frozen you couldn’t contain but make a little side comment: “Just shave it off then.“ He couldn’t believe you said that, he was proud of his beard and you knew it, you still needed to get used to it.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest to cover your hard nipples a little, right when you did, Lando mentioned how fragile his nipples felt, and the only thing you could do was nod. Yours hurt a lot, not only did they feel like they would fall off any second, but you felt serious pain in them. You prayed the three minutes would go over fast because you couldn’t stay in here longer, you tried to stay near Lando, to get some body heat off of him, but he was as cold as you were. He quickly knew what you were trying to do, so he pressed your chest to his’ and stroked your arms to create some warmth.
“It’s unfair, ginge, they have each other to keep warm, we need to cuddle too.“
Morgan pushed Ethan with a disgusted look away from him and they both laughed. When you pushed yourself away from Lando because it was time to leave, you accidentally touched his nipple, Lando commented: ”Ouch, Y/N, my nipple,“ which made you all burst out in laughter. You were extremely happy when you went through the door and finally felt the warmth of the room, it was way warmer than you thought before, thanks to the cold chamber.
Next was lunch, you were somewhat used to these meals, they weren’t a delicacy, but good enough to eat them, todays chicken teriyaki looked delicious, despite Morgan and Ethan saying otherwise. You and Lando dug into it, quietly rolling your eyes at the boys saying how disgusting it was, you‘d like to have a pizza now too, but that wasn’t on Lando’s meal plan, tho you might order some takeout later when you were sitting in front of the tv, but they didn’t need to know that. You chatted while eating and played some Jenga afterward, you were impressed at how high you were able to build the tower.
The last thing for the video was the simulator, which also wasn’t a new thing for you, especially at the beginning of your relationship, you often sat in the simulator and drove around the different tracks. It was a lot of giggles and snarky comments from Lando, but it was so much fun, you tried your best and almost ended up on top, but around the last corner you slipped off track and straight into the wall. But Lando kissed it better, the two boys made kissing sounds when he pressed some on your forehead, and you blushed again.
The rest of the day couldn’t be filmed because Lando had meetings with McLaren, and no one was allowed to be near him, in case someone could overhear some important things about the car and share it with the world. Lando trusted the boys, but it would be unfair for them to sit around in the flat and do nothing, so Lando send them on a helicopter ride.
In between meetings, Lando had his midday snacks, you stopped following his day because you had your own stuff to do, but after Lando finished all of his stuff, you two ordered some pizza to enjoy in front of the TV.
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings
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hoshifighting · 1 month
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I can do it for you
Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch.
Word Count: 8k
Warnings: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!
You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.
Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.
Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?
Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.
As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.
Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.
As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 
With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.
You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.
So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.
With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 
You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.
You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.
"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.
"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.
"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?
With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.
"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.
"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"
You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"
She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"
Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?
You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.
"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"
The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.
As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.
"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.
With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.
And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.
The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.
After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.
As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.
And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.
You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.
With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.
The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.
Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.
Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.
"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.
"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.
The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.
You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.
But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.
Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."
But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.
You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 
You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.
But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.
The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."
Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?
With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.
You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."
Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.
The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."
You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.
You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.
The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."
You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.
The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."
"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.
He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.
The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 
You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.
"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.
He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.
You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.
You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.
You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?
But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."
Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.
"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.
The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.
As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"
He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.
"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"
The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.
Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.
He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.
You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.
[...]
As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.
You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.
But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.
Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.
But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.
With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.
As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.
You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.
"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"
Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.
"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.
You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"
Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"
Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.
Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.
As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.
As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.
You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.
You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.
With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.
You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.
"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.
You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."
As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.
Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.
Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.
As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.
With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.
s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.
With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 
Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."
You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.
Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."
"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.
It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?
You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.
You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 
Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.
A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.
You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.
Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.
Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.
As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.
"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.
You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.
"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"
"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"
Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.
After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.
Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.
You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.
He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.
"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."
Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"
You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.
"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."
Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."
And in minutes, everything happened. 
You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.
As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.
You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.
"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 
As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 
With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.
Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.
You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.
As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.
"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.
But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.
"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.
As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation.
"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.
Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"
You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.
"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."
And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.
As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing with anticipation.
And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.
You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. "I can do whatever you want," he replied, his voice low and husky.
As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with apprehension. It was something you had written in your wishbook - a cock that fulfills you - but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.
His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you.
"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.
Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "Don't worry," he reassured you, his voice husky with desire. "I'll make it fit."
As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and embarrassment wash over you. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter with anticipation.
You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.
"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"
His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you. You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 
As Mingyu continued to tease you, his words sending shivers of desire down your spine, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."
His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally. You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.
As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.
As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly. "I'm still," he murmured between moans, his voice laced with desire. "You're almost cumming."
His words sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your pussy clenching around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.
He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back in sheer ecstasy.
No mercy, just like you wanted.
Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.
"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, don't you?"
You nodded eagerly, unable to form words as pleasure washed over you in waves.
As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling with anticipation as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.
You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you in waves. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.
And then it hit you, like a tidal wave crashing over you with unstoppable force. You came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.
You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.
As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.
But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."
You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."
But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, his voice sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.
"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "I'm almost there, baby. Just hold on for me."
As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.
As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance. "I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.
But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of sensation.
You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy.
As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied. Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and cum.
Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.
You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.
Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
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spicyspiders · 26 days
Text
something that never existed
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Francis Mosses x male reader smut
1.4k words
This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.
It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 
The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 
Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–
You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 
“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 
“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 
Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 
You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 
“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 
You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 
“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 
“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  
“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 
“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 
“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 
The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 
“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 
“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 
“You must get thirsty back there.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”
He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 
“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 
Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 
“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 
With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 
“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 
You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 
Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 
“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 
You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 
“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 
He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 
“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”
His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 
You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    
Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”
It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 
Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 
1K notes · View notes
lihhelsing · 2 months
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"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.
Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"
"Yeah, man. It's whatever."
Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.
Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.
"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.
"Of course I do."
Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.
"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."
Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.
"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?
"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."
And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.
And then he was grinning.
"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.
"Should I be scared?"
Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."
"Yeah?"
"We kissed."
Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.
"What?"
"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."
Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."
Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."
For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.
"Ok."
Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"
"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"
Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."
Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.
"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.
He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.
"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.
But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.
"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.
Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.
Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.
Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.
When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.
"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."
Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"
Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?
When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.
"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."
Oh.
Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.
"Then don't."
2K notes · View notes
highvern · 3 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, humor
Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?
Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee
Length: ~5.2k
Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.
"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"
Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.
“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.
Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”
“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”
The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.
“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”
Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”
“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”
“How do you know they were for my class?”
You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.
“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.
“If you need paper, ask!”
Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?” 
“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”
“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.
Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.
“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”
The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.
“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”
A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous. 
“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”
Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”
They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.
“What's this about?” you ask.
Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.” 
“You’re kidding.”
Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.
“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”
“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.
Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.
The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.
“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”
The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.
“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.
Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.” 
Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.
So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.
Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”
“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.
“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”
Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”
Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.
“Meet at the tree during recess.” 
The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.
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A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.
Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.
Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.
Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.
Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.
“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.
The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.
“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.
The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple. 
“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.
The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.
‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’ 
You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention. 
“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.
“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.” 
“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”
“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”
Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.
You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.
When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.
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Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.
Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper. 
With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’
“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks. 
You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”
“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”
“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”
“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”
You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”
Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book. 
You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.
Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note. 
The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.
We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer
As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.
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Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday. 
Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.
You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”
“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.” 
You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.
I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer
None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful. 
“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.
A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself. 
He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.
Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”
More screams bounce off the walls.
“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.
The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.
You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.
“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.
“Creative strategy,” he argues.
Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks. 
Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time. 
“We finished first!”
“No, we did!”
“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”
The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.
The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.
“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.
“Pasta salad.”
“Wanna trade?” 
“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.
“Pasta salad.”
You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.
After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.
Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.
“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”
“I was just…going to the bathroom!”
“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”
“It was gross!”
Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.
“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.” 
You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.
“Arin, what are you doing?” 
“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”
Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.
Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.
You jump back up.“What the—”
“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.
“Arin, what is going on?” 
“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.
“And why are you trying to scare me?” 
Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.
Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K
“Hana! What are you doing?”
“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.
Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.
“Sit. Now.”
They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.
You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.
Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.
“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”
“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.
Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.
“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.
“Thought what?”
“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”
“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”
They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’
Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.
“We can tell!”
“You’re perfect for eachother!”
“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”
“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.
It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”
“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.
Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.
“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”
“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.
“Me too.” 
You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.
“How about we get you two back to class?”
“But what about Mr. Kim?”
“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”
“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”
The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.
“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”
All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own. 
“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”
Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders. 
You’ll explain everything later.
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You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’
Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.
But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.
It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.
His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”
“Seriously?” you choke.
The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee. 
Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.
Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.
He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.
“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks. 
Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.
So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.
Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”
“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.
“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”
Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”
“I–My friend does!”
“Okay,” Mingyu nods.
“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”
“Well that's tough.” 
“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”
“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”
“Did she run fast?”
The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.
“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”
“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”
“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”
“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”
“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”
“Poof?”
“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”
“What happened after that?”
“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”
“She knew you liked her?”
Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”
“So I should try and tell her I like her?”
“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.
Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”
“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”
Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench. 
“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”
Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?” 
“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”
“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure. 
Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you. 
Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.
“They think I have a crush on you too.”
You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago. 
You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.
“Do you?” He asks.
“Do I, what?”
“Have a crush on me?”
“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”
“Damn right you do.”
Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.
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Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door. 
“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”
“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”
“It had to be them!”
They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.
Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout. 
Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by. 
“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”
“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”
Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about. 
An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.
Who on earth?
As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.
“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.
You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.
“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”
He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.
“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.
Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!” 
“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.
Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.
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A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors. 
Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit. 
But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.
You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.
When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.
Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.
Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.
-
Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu
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@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu
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drefear · 9 months
Text
Closer by NIN
This is part two for Nasty
Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.
TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.
Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 
His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 
“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 
“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 
“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 
You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’
“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 
“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 
The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 
So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 
You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 
“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 
“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 
“Wow. He must really be into it.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 
“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 
And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 
“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 
Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 
The song!
Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 
You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 
“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 
“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.
“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 
“Well, yes, but-“ 
“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 
“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 
The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 
“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 
“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 
“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 
“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 
“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 
“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 
“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 
Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 
“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”
“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 
“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 
That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 
“You let me violate you 
You let me desecrate you 
You let me penetrate you 
You let me complicate you”
Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.
The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.
Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 
“you tear down my reason
(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 
(Help me) you make me perfect
Help me become somebody else”
You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 
“I wanna fuck you like an animal 
I wanna feel you from the inside 
I wanna fuck you like an animal 
My whole existence is flawed 
You get me closer to God”
You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 
“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.
“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 
“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 
“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 
His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 
But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-
The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 
“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 
“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 
“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 
He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.
The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.
Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 
He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 
“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 
“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 
“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 
“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 
You were fucking loving this.
Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 
“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.
“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 
Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 
“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."
Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 
“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 
And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-
“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.
“You… enjoyed that?”
“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 
You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.
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