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naeverse · 1 year ago

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Lapdog

🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader

💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?

🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...

💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU, Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…

🌸Word count: 9k

Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.

Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal.

Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.

You were known as the university's queen bee.

Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger.

Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.

But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.

Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.

MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.

Not that anyone would know...

Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.

So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?

Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.

To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.

Or, well...

Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.

He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result.

Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?

He was a tricky case.

And not one you cared about until today…

You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…

You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.

He was definitely an amateur...

But a needy little thing he was...

The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.

It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…

You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes.

So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...

It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.

You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.

Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.

MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.

You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...

Now, would you?”

You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.

You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.

You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…

“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’;

Currently, he was everything but…

“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,

Satisfy my every need…”

You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments.

Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.

“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?”

You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II.

“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.

You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store.

“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.

You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.

Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner.

‘Now the fun can begin…’

You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.

Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.

You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.

“I interrupted you?”

You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.

You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.

Not that you cared at the moment...

“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.

He was completely vulnerable to you…

Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.

He had an impressive cock…

It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.

During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.

“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.

Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…

He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…

Not submitting.

You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.

Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.

You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.

“Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”

You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.

“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.

You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.

He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.

‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’

You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.

But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…

You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.

"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.

"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."

Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.

However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.

"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"

"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.

You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.

But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.

You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.

"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.

He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.

"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.

"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?"

"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.

When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.

'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'

"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is...

Why not?"

You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.

He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.

'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'

You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.

"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."

You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury.

"Well… get used to it."

You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.

"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."

"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here.

He'll learn sooner or later.

"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.

He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.

“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.

It was a cute look on him…

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.

“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”

“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.

“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.

The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.

You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.

So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock.

What better way for him to learn...?

"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.

"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.

“Seriously, what are you up to with him?”

She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.

“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.

Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.

You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.

“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.

You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.

“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.

“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.

You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.

You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.

MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.

His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.

The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…

But you couldn’t lie.

The geek was exceeding your expectations…

Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.

Your puppy was tougher than you thought…

‘We’ll see about that.’

With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.

It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.

You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.

But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.

“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.

Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…

Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…

Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.

You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.

You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”

“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.

But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…

He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.

“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”

“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.

His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.

‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking.

You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.

“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.

If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.

“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.

You were right...

The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.

“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.

'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.

“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”

Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.

You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.

You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.

As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.

“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”

You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.

How cute…

You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.

But you're only a bitch when you want to be…

“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.

“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.

“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.

“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.

Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.

You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…

A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-

“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.

Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.

With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.

“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.

Something he's been hiding…

You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?

Why not reward him for the assistance?

Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.

“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”

You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.

“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.

You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.

But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…

You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.

“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.

Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.

“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.

“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.

You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.

But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.

“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.

After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.

“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.

You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.

You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…

You don’t like to share…

Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.

Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.

You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.

“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."

He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…

You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…

You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.

Well,

Almost…

“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.

“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”

You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.

“No, eyes on me.”

You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.

“I-I’m your… l-little…

Puppy.”

He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”

You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”

“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.

You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...

They submit.

So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.

“Woof…Woof.”

A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.

Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...

You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.

The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.

And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.

His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.

When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.

You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids.

You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.

After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.

You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice…

So I might as well enjoy it,”

He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.

You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his.

“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.

You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.

You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role.

But you couldn’t be so sure…

You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.

You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10.

I want you at my sorority house tonight,”

You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.

All of that and so much more was yours now.

All yours…

“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.

You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.

You were excited, no, delighted.

You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before.

You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours.

And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.

Your new lapdog...

A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆

I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏

But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗

P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌

<3 Taglist:

~@oscarissac2099

~@powerful-niya

(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel atsv smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #nerd miguel #sub miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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wannabanauthor · 4 days ago

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What if Tommy and Eddie discussed the breakup, and it goes from serious to funny?

So Eddie goes to Tommy's house and is like "I'm here to check on you, let's get a beer."

Tommy tries to refuse, but Eddie says, "You broke my best friend's heart, so the least you could do is explain your reasoning to me."

Tommy reluctantly goes. After a few beers, he starts rambling.

"I fucked up, and I don't know how to fix it or even if I should fix it. I was falling in love with him, and it snuck up on me. I didn't expect for it to get more serious," Tommy says. "I thought it was just going to be fun for awhile, and we'd go our separate ways."

"Your second date with him was to his sister's wedding," Eddie points out.

"Oh so sue me! It's not my fault I caved. He gave me these pleading puppy eyes, and I found myself agreeing."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Well, if you never expected it to get serious and didn't want it to get serious, then why haven't you found your rebound yet? It's been weeks. Even Chimney and Maddie are telling Buck to start dating again."

Tommy groans into his hands and then rubs his temples. "Fucking traitors."

"Well, I know this hot priest-"

"Been there, done that," Tommy says and takes a swig of his beer.

Eddie looks at him with a bewildered look on his face. "What?"

"What?" Tommy responds with a shrug. "I was raised Catholic. Guilt about sexuality is easy to spot, but he made the first move."

"Do I even want to know how?"

"Ever had sex in a confession booth?"

Eddie's eyes are wide and horrified. "Please don't tell me-"

"It was an old booth in storage, but it was still pretty hot. Once I admitted to myself that I was gay, I had a lot of catching up to do."

Then Tommy goes quiet and gets sad again. "I'll never meet another Evan in my life. I think he's ruined me for other men."

"Don't say that. While, I prefer you two together, you can always find someone else."

Tommy snorts in disbelief. "Yeah, not gonna happen. At least when it comes to sex. His adorable face and cheery smile haunt my dreams, and his proficiency with dick makes it impossible for me to get it up even when watching porn."

"Oh no, I need more alcohol for this," Eddie says and orders some shots.

He and Tommy go through a couple of them.

Tommy's tongue gets looser. "His dick is fantastic. Perfect length, thickness, and stamina. I know my body pretty well, and let me tell you, the prostate orgasms from him were out of this world. I barely lasted five minutes before coming just from him fucking me."

Eddie is drunk enough that he's not even fazed.

"Not to mention he has this slight curve that makes him hit the spot every time, and goddamn, I miss that dick and the dork attached to it," Tommy continues. "He made me feel comfortable and safe and cherished. Being around him was effortless, mostly, and I miss him so much."

Tommy starts sniffling, and then tears roll down his cheeks. "Fuck, I don't want to cry."

Eddie puts a comforting hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Call him. He's a mess and miserable without you. He's been baking so much that the entire station's hemoglobin A1C levels are pre-diabetic. We had to force him to focus on savory cooking."

Tommy shakes his head. "He doesn't want to hear from me. I broke his heart. I'm the last person that should be contacting him."

"He does want to hear from you. He's only been baking and cooking so much to stop himself from contacting you because he wants to give you space and respect your boundaries post-breakup."

"What would I even say? That I panicked and ran? I told him he would break my heart if we moved in together. There's no coming back from that."

Eddie sighs and sets his drink down. "Listen, the first time you ended things with Buck, I told him he was an idiot but to call you anyway. Now it's your turn to be the idiot. Go get your man back. Call him. Talk to him. He'd settle for a text. Just do something! You both are suffering without each other. You don't have to move in with him. He just wants you back in his life."

More tears run down Tommy's face and it turns into full sobs. Eddie scoots closer to him and gives him a hug. Tommy clings to him, sobbing even harder.

After drinks, they stop by a taco place and sober up while eating delicious birria tacos. They go back to Tommy's place, and Eddie sleeps on the couch just to make sure Tommy is alright. Before he falls asleep, he texts Buck.

"If Tommy contacts you, go easy on him. He's an idiot too."

When Tommy wakes up the next morning, he nearly stops breathing when he sees that Evan texted him.

"I miss you." was all it said.

Tommy cradles his phone in his hands for several minutes before pressing the call button. He holds his breath until Evan answers.

"I miss you too," Tommy says.

#wannabanauthor writes #bucktommy #post breakup fic #eddie and tommy friendship #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #fix it fic

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wasteddmoondust · 8 months ago

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you and james potter and physical touch.

heads? on shoulders. in each other's laps. in each other's hands. he holds your face like he's holding the entire world. his favourite pillow to rest on is your chest. yours is in the crook of his neck.

hands? intertwined. at least one of your fingers interlocked as you walk in a crowded hallway. on your waist, or the small of your back. on your thigh (he's a thigh guy, sue me), on the couch or when you're in the passenger seat. your hands comb through his dark curls. his hands braid your hair if it's long enough. fingers are for head massages whenever they are needed.

arms? linked. as much as possible. while walking, while watching a movie, when you're sitting on the same side of a booth for dinner. arms around each other, warm and always welcome. big or little spoon or just... tangled like pasta in a fork.

legs! around his hips when you're on his lap. his between yours in the early hours of the morning. or when he picks you up and throws you over his back.

sometimes all he wishes for is to be close to you and melt into you. lucky for him, it turns out you wish for the same too.

a/n: can you tell my love language is physical touch... (gonna make one of these love language things for the other boys too teehee)

#zee writes #zee's drabbles #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #marauders fluff #marauders x you

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steddie-there · 2 years ago

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They don't acknowledge it.

When Steve and Eddie share a bed - which, after that first nightmare-fueled middle-of-the-night phone call a few weeks after spring break, that first quiet "Come over," happens increasingly often until there's hardly a night they can't be found together - they don't acknowledge it.

They don't talk about how, though they start on either side of the bed (a decent space between them if they're in Steve's, elbows knocking if they're in Eddie's), it only takes a few minutes of anxious wakefulness before they tuck themselves together, arms wrapped tight and legs tangled.

It's just an unspoken understanding that Eddie sleeps better with Steve's arms curled around him, that Steve can't sleep without his palm over Eddie's heart, the rhythmic proof that Eddie is still alive beating into his hand.

So they don't acknowledge it.

Not when Steve starts pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head as they settle in, or when Eddie begins bringing Steve's hand to his lips before placing it back over his own heart.

And they don't acknowledge it when it starts to bleed over into their waking hours. When sitting next to each other on the couch during movie nights becomes Steve leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder becomes Eddie curled up on top of Steve, their eyes trained on the tv but their fingers tangled together on Steve’s chest.

When Eddie's regular visits to Family Video start and end with a hug that lingers maybe a little longer than strictly necessary and Eddie drapes himself over Steve's back to look at something in the magazine he's reading and they aren't more than an arm's length from each other the whole time Eddie is there.

When Robin sends Steve a raised eyebrow stare across the diner table, Eddie pressed against his side in the booth opposite her. She kicks Steve's leg under the table when he doesn't respond and he kicks her back, raises an eyebrow of his own that says not now.

And so they don't acknowledge it.

They don't acknowledge it until the sleepover when the kids beg Steve and Eddie to stay downstairs with them, to not retreat to Steve's room, to actually be a part of the sleepover like Robin and Nancy whispering in the corner, like Jonathan and Argyle giggling by the fireplace. When the combined forces of Erica's, El's, and Max's puppy dog eyes have him grumblingly setting up another sleeping area for him and Eddie. When Eddie smirks at him and knocks their shoulders together and Steve shrugs with a grin of his own that says I've got a soft spot for my girls, so sue me.

They don't acknowledge it until, after those few minutes of laying still next to each other, Eddie rolls into Steve's arms and Steve presses his lips to the side of Eddie's head and Eddie tugs Steve's hand to his lips and Dustin, observant and tactful as ever, asks, "What, are you two, like, dating now?"

There's a beat of silence before several muffled thumps and Dustin's, "Hey, ow, that hurt, jeez, it was just a question," sound from across the room, both Will and Lucas having kicked him while El smacked his arm. Max's hissed, "You can't just ask people that, Dustin, what the hell," has Robin and Nancy stifling giggles behind their hands.

Meanwhile, after a stiff, frozen moment, Eddie turns to catch Steve's eye and quietly asks, "Are we - ?" at the same time that Steve murmurs, "Do you - ?" They pause, only to speak in sync again when Steve answers, "I mean - " and Eddie says, "If you - "

They pause, matching shy smiles on their faces. Eddie pulls a strand of hair over his mouth, hiding behind it, before taking a deep breath and answering both their questions. "Yeah," he says.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, and the hope in it has Eddie squeezing the fingers still in his grasp.

"Yeah," he says, smiling softly.

"Okay," Steve sighs happily. He pulls Eddie's hair aside, gently presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

Eddie leans into it with a happy sigh of his own. Then he calls across the room, "Hey, Henderson."

The whisper-fight across the room immediately stills as they all turn to Eddie.

"Yeah, we're dating."

For a moment, it feels like everyone is holding their breath, then Dustin says, "Oh. Okay," and Robin calls out, "Congrats, Dingus," and the conversation gradually drifts to another topic.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder and neck. Eddie turns, just a little, just enough for Steve to lean down and kiss him, soft, chaste. Eddie leans into it, presses their foreheads together when they part, then settles back into Steve's hold.

"Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve."

Tomorrow, they both know, there will be more to say. Questions to answer. Explanations to give. But, for now, this is all the acknowledgment they need.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #just something soft and sweet

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memento-rory · 6 months ago

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✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted get a little too close for schlatt’s comfort at the club, and you finally tell someone what happened between you and schlatt all those months ago.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader and a steamy dance scene.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i realize that i’ve taken four chapters to get through one entire day, and i hope y’all are cool with that lmao. i’m sure it will keep happening again. a week was a little ambitious, but fiwb. no beta, we die like men here. (if you ever see a mistake, you are legally obligated to tell me.) enjoy! 🩵

Blue and purple lights illuminate a steady swirl of fog coming out of machines near the DJ’s stage, the bass of the loud music completely overtaking all of your senses. You can feel the reverb under your skin, and the hairs on your arm stand at attention. The dance floor toward the front of the building is full of bodies, so many people dancing all their cares away.

“I’m gonna get you beautiful ladies a round of shots!” James yells as he pokes his head in between you and Amelia. “You find us a place to chill!”

Amelia takes your hand and leads you through the crowds of people standing around and talking, weaving your way around the large space, before finally finding a table big enough to house your entire party. You scoot into the booth with Amelia close behind you, grinning over at her, already absolutely buzzing about the night you’re about to have.

James had been sure that Ted and Schlatt would have shown up by the time he got back to the table with shots, but he’s wrong, so he offers you and Amelia the two extra shots. You down them, grimacing as the shot burns all the way down. James has also gone ahead and ordered your favorite drink, which you sip on as you wait for Ted and Schlatt to arrive. Amelia and James take to the floor, dragging you along with them.

You sway along to the music, the alcohol already beginning to course through your veins. It’s been a while since you’ve drank, since you’ve really let loose. The last time was… well… you don’t want to dwell on it.

Ted stands in front of the mirror, running his hand through his hair once, twice, three times, trying to get it perfect. He adjusts the string of pearls around his neck, the rings on his fingers. He catches Schlatt’s eyes in the mirror, quirking an eyebrow at the scowl on his face.

“Dude, you look fine, can we fuckin’ go?” Schlatt says, half-laying on the bed, “You’re taking fuckin’ forever.”

“Fuckin’… sue me for wanting look nice,” Ted laughs at Schlatt’s impatience. “Did you see how good (Y/N) looks?”

Schlatt bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “Barely even looked at her, man.” The lie slips out of his mouth so easily, and he’s glad Ted is none the wiser.

“Well, I looked at her. Got a realll good look,” Ted shoots Schlatt a pointed look, before returning to his preening, “Can’t look like some kinda chump next to her.”

Schlatt rolls his eyes, his skin heating up at Ted’s words. He tries to ignore the feeling, but something comes over him.

“You’re not her type, man.” Schlatt says casually, before he can stop it. Ted thinks Schlatt’s just trying to get a rise out of him, so he only laughs, unbothered by Schlatt’s statement.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

It’s difficult, but for once, Schlatt keeps his thoughts to himself.

You’re two shots and one fruity little drink deep when Schlatt and Ted finally show up. Amelia and James are still out on the dance floor, but you’re at the bar ordering another round of drinks and shots for Ted and Schlatt after they’d texted they were on their way.

When you spot Ted and Schlatt looking for your group, you lift a hand up, waving them over. Ted beams as he catches your eye, sauntering over to the bar, with Schlatt close behind.

“Hey, hot stuff,” Ted sidles up to you at the bar, looming over you, punctuating his greeting with a cheeky wink. “Come here often?” He asks, intentionally deepening his voice to draw a laugh from you. It works, causing you to giggle at him. (Ted’s always been funny, but he’s even funnier now that you’re tipsy.)

“Shut up,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. You think you catch Schlatt doing the same out of the corner of your eye, but you can’t be sure. “I ordered your drinks. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Yeah?” Ted smiles mischievously down at you, “Are you feelin’ it?”

“I’m feelin’ it,” You confirm with a carefree laugh, nodding your head.

As if on cue, the bartender serves up your shots and Ted and Schlatt’s drinks. “Take my shot,” You tell Ted, handing the small glass over to him, “I’ve gotta pace myself or shit’s gonna go south real fast.” You giggle.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ted grins, downing the two shots with ease, grimacing slightly. He turns to pass Schlatt a shot and his drink, but Schlatt’s already on the other side of the club, talking to Amelia and James.

Ted merely shrugs and so do you. How are you supposed to care when Ted is standing in front of you, playfully flirting with you while looking absolutely delicious?

“Are you having fun?” Ted asks you, watching you intently as you wrap your lips around the straw in your drink.

“Not yet,” You smirk at him, the alcohol in your system granting you a new kind of confidence, “I was waiting for you to get here.”

Ted’s eyes light up at your statement. “Yeah?” He asks, with a sly grin. He looks like he’s up to no good, and you’re eating it up. “Let me show you a good time.”

Ted downs his drink, before taking your hand in his, leading you out onto the dance floor. You abandon the rest of your drink at the bar, not particularly caring about it at the moment.

Once you hit the dance floor, Ted raises your hand in the air, gracefully spinning you. When you face him again, he drops your hand onto his shoulder, using his other hand to pull you closer to him by your waist. You’re nearly pressed against him, swaying along to the music, with Ted’s firm grip on your waist. The energy in the room is fucking electric, and it only makes you bolder. You turn around, your back up against Ted’s chest. One of your arms snakes up behind you to rest your hand at the back of his neck, and you slowly drag yourself down against him, swaying your hips. You can feel Ted’s breath on your neck as you come back up, and his hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

You move your hand to rest on his cheek, holding him close to you. As you touch him, his grip on your skin grows even tighter, and you hear him sigh against your ear. The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

Ted lets you lead, his body moving in tandem with yours, matching all the cues you give him. You can feel yourself getting lost in the music, in him. He feels so good pressed up against you, and your mind wanders as he grinds up on you to the beat. Your eyes close as you let the music flow through you.

When you open your eyes, you notice Schlatt on the other side of the dance floor. He has his eyes fixed on you while some random girl practically feels him up, gyrating against him without shame. His hand lazily rests on the girl’s back, inching dangerously close to her barely-covered ass. His eyebrow quirks just slightly as he realizes you’re watching them.

You maintain eye contact as Ted’s face draws closer to your neck, his lips just barely grazing across your skin. You let your head drop a little lower to give Ted easier access to your neck, and his fingers squeeze at your hip.

Schlatt’s demeanor changes almost imperceptibly, his expression hardening and one of his fists clenching at his side.

His eyes never leave yours, even as the girl he’s dancing with leans up to practically shove her tongue in Schlatt’s mouth. You can almost feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, a scowl forming on your face before you can stop it.

Satisfied that he’s received a reaction from you, Schlatt’s eyes flutter closed as he threads a hand into the girl’s hair, pulling her closer and unabashedly making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.

Your stomach drops and you start to feel entirely too hot under all the lights, all of the heat coming from the bodies around you threatening to suffocate you. You think about stepping off the floor for a break, just to get your wits about you again, but you don’t want to give Schlatt the satisfaction. Instead, you turn back around to face Ted, deciding to turn up the heat yourself.

Ted’s face is unbelievably close to yours as the two of you hit every beat. He’s sporting a wolf-like grin, his eyes half-lidded and staring into your own. The way he’s eyeing you makes you think you’re not alone in having inappropriate thoughts about the two of you together.

Ted has always been handsome, there’s no doubting that, but this is uncharted territory. You’ve known Ted for a good chunk of your life, he’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. You have a feeling that if you were to do anything, the two of you could be normal about it afterward. What happens at weddings stays at weddings, or whatever.

Ted’s face dips lower, and his eyes dart to your lips, then back up. You move your hand back up to rest at the base of his neck, pulling him to you to close the gap. He tastes like the drinks he downed just a while ago, and almost equally intoxicating.

“Oh, my God!” You hear Amelia yelling beside you, and Ted pulls away from you, clearly amused. Amelia covers her mouth with her hand, looking apologetic for her drunken outburst.

“Sorry, sorry, oh my god.” Amelia shouts over the music, waving her hands, “You guys keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“All good, Mel,” Ted shouts back, waving his own hand dismissively, “We’ve got plenty of time to do that later.” He adds, flirtatiously.

You feel a heat pool in your abdomen at his words. Amelia looks scandalized, but ecstatic nonetheless. James is shockingly quiet beside her, and you follow his gaze to the other side of the dance floor.

Schlatt is gone.

Hours go by before the rest of you are ready to head back to the hotel.

You’ve had many drinks, and your feet hurt like a bitch from all the dancing. Ted keeps you steady as you walk back to your room, his arm around your shoulder, but he’s also fairly drunk, so the two of you are just stumbling and giggling down the hallway.

“I didn’t know you were rooming next to Schlatt.” Ted remarks as you get to your room.

“Don’t remind me.” You let out a little laugh as you fish your key card out of your purse. Once you get the door open, you look over at Ted, who is just watching you with a hopeful look that he’s too drunk to hide on his face.

“Did you wanna come in?” You ask him, “Maybe have a glass of champagne on the balcony?”

Ted’s eyes light up. “Fuck yeah I do.”

You give him a smile and gesture for him to follow you inside, letting the door click shut behind you.

You plop down onto your bed, eager to get your heels off, but as you fiddle with the buckle, you realize you’re a little too drunk to get them off. You huff out a sigh, and Ted laughs, making his way over to you.

“C’mon,” Ted says as he stands in front of you, motioning for you to lift your leg up to him, “Lemme help.”

You raise your leg up, and Ted guides your foot to rest on his stomach so he has better access to the buckles of your heels. He unbuckles one slowly, moving his hand to your calf to let your leg drop gently, before doing the same with the other one. His touch lingers on your other leg, and he smiles down at you, like he’s just waiting for another chance to kiss you.

You find yourself thinking about Schlatt just next door. Part of you doesn’t give a shit, but another part of you wonders if it would be fucked up to fuck his friend where he could easily hear it.

Another part of you wishes it was him.

Clearing your throat to cut through the tension between you and Ted, you stand up from the bed, making your way to the minibar. “How about that drink?” You suggest, grabbing a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

The cool air coming off of the ocean hits your face as you step out onto the balcony, immediately putting you more at ease. As you sit down at the table, you notice that Schlatt’s lights are still on, spilling out between the curtains in his room. You can just barely see him through the gap, and a terrible thought hits you: Is he alone? Had he left with that girl from earlier?

“Oh, good, Schlatt’s still up,” Ted comments, grabbing his phone from his pocket, “I’d love to get into something more comfortable. I’m gonna ask him to toss me some clothes.”

Ted shoots off a text that you both see Schlatt read, and he looks up to see the two of you watching him from outside. He gets up, and you nearly gulp as you notice he’s only in his boxer briefs. He shows no intention of getting Ted’s things, and instead, closes the curtains with a look on his face that you can’t place. You both watch as his lights go out. Well, you think bitterly, at least he’s alone.

“What the fuck?” Ted scoffs, looking over at you.

You release a heavy sigh. “That’s probably my fault.”

“In what world would that be your fault?” Ted kind of laughs, but he stops as you lean back in your chair, looking a little dejected. It’s not fair for Schlatt to be mad at Ted, to treat him this way just because of you.

You wonder how to even begin to explain the situation to Ted. He notices how you struggle, and immediately starts to pour you a glass of champagne.

You give him a soft smile as he hands you the glass.

“What happened?” Ted asks softly, leaning back in his own chair, giving you the floor.

You sigh again before diving into the story. “Schlatt and I were together… for a while.”

“What?” Ted exclaims, obviously shocked. “When?”

“It was, like, a year ago,” You answer, taking a sip of the champagne. “We hooked up after Jasper’s birthday party. When the party started to wind down, we got to talking and, well, one thing led to another… It was good for, like, a month, and then all of a sudden he just… ghosted, so I don’t know why he’s so pressed now, but he is.”

“Fuuuck,” Ted commiserates with you, shaking his head. “Are you still into him?” He asks, this time as your friend, not as someone who was just about to get to hook up with you.

Had you not been drinking, you might answer differently, but with your inhibitions out the window and a kind ear being lent to you, you decide to be honest.

“Yeah, kinda.” You tell Ted, “I thought I was over it but being here with him, being in his presence at all hours of the day… it all just came back, I think.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?”

“He ghosted me. I’m not about to go back to him with my tail between my legs, hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“(Y/N), he just locked me out of my room for the night because he saw us kiss earlier.” Ted says, “Clearly he’s still feeling something for you.”

You shake your head. Ted doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know how many texts you sent, how much you cried, how hard it was to watch Schlatt act like nothing ever happened between the two of you. You’d opened yourself up to him, just for him to disappear.

“I can’t, Ted.” You finally say, taking another drink. “You can stay with me tonight, if you want. It’s my fault you’re wrapped up in this now, too.”

“Hey, I kissed you, so I’m complicit too.” Ted smiles warmly over at you, “He’ll get over it. Don’t let him bother you.”

“I’m really sorry the night turned out like this,” You can’t help the apology that spills from you, “I know you were hoping for… something else.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Ted waves a hand dismissively, fully unbothered that you’ve changed your mind about hooking up with him, “I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m having a good time either way, I promise.”

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you finish your drinks, just marinating in the milky glow of the moon over the ocean, enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“You got anything I can sleep in?” Ted finally asks, and you grin over at him.

“I have a cute little pink PJ set that you’d look real cute in.” You tease, and Ted rolls his eyes, laughing.

“God, nevermind.”

You let out a cackle at his response, feeling much better than you had just moments ago. It feels good to finally tell someone what happened with Schlatt. You let yourself bask in the comfort of it all, because you know that once tomorrow comes, you’re in for some more torture when Schlatt finds out Ted stayed with you for the night.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #the wedding fic #mhibisl #best man!schlatt

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delicatestones · 1 year ago

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Various Parahuman Teen Couples Go To The Mall

Brian and Taylor: Going to the mall is a normal thing neither of them enjoy, which is precisely why they convince themselves that they should do it. Brian musters up hope that he will be able to carry Taylor's bags and wait for her on benches outside of clothes stores, which will affirm his value as a man. Taylor, who only wants to buy a single hoodie, anxiously refuses to let Brian carry her bag because she doesn't want to be a burden, which banishes Brian to the Masculine Insecurity Pocket Dimension in his own mind. They attempt to rally by going to the food court, where they try to have an awkward 'normal' conversation over greasy pizza slices.

Fortunately, a supervillain they have history with attacks the mall mid-pizza, and they rush off to change in the mall bathrooms and return to thoroughly beat the interloper's ass. Brian apologizes for the mall date going wrong (secretly relieved, also deeply compelled by watching Taylor break a guy's arm with a baton) while Taylor says it's no big deal (even more relieved, mesmerized by Brian's visible sweat on the back of his neck). They may or may not awkwardly touch hands at the fire exit before they flee the scene of the crime.

Krouse and Noelle (Pre-Simurgh): On a quest for limited edition Ransack merch at the Gamestop, which turns out to be all sold out or on reserve. Krouse tries to social engineer it out of the clerk anyway, but Noelle gets so visibly uncomfortable he desists. In the depths of excruciating failure he says something shitty about the guy's haircut after they leave the store and Noelle tells him he's being a dick, which he apologizes excessively for in a way that just makes it more awkward.

In a now desperate effort to turn things around, Krouse tries to lighten the mood by latching onto listing Alternative Mall Activities including one of those photo booth set ups. He makes fun of how cliche they are and how it would be completely lame if they went into one, which transitions into cajoling Noelle to join him in this extremely cringe activity for the bit. She says her hair looks dumb and she doesn't want to, so he gallantly offers her his over-sized hoodie so she can hide her face the entire time, a gesture he does not realize extends the shelf life of their relationship for a solid two weeks. His visible joy when she agrees to the idea adds another week to the tail end of that. They hold hands on the way to the parking lot.

His copy of their photos becomes an instantly precious memento he sticks on the wall above his bed; Noelle puts hers in her picture shoebox in her closet. He spends all night on E-bay overbidding for the merch.

Krouse and Noelle (Post-Simurgh): Twelve Injured One Dead In 'Food Court Nightmare'.

Dean and Victoria: It takes Victoria half an hour to get ready for a mall trip. Dean shows up too early to pick her up and engages Carol Dallon in small talk for twenty minutes, a time span in which Carol manages to list every single one of Victoria's deepest insecurities in the form of barely veiled criticism while Dean smiles like he's being held at gunpoint.

At the mall they get stopped outside the Gap by a gaggle of Glory Girl preteen fans. Dean holds Victoria's bags (many) while she goes through the New Wave Fan Experience Checklist. Victoria says something afterwards to him on the way to the next store that hints at the Dallon Torment Nexus. Dean continues smiling and offers the mildest possible effort at sympathy, which Victoria reacts to with virulent irritation, so he gives up and buys her a mall outlet jewelry store diamond tennis bracelet instead. Thus mollified, she proceeds to allow him to obtain Jamba Juice for the both of them. It's another normal (bad) day in Brockton Bay.

Aisha and Alec: There strictly to cause problems for the sake of causing problems. Alec 'distracts' the staff at Hot Topic by faking a fall into a rack of studded belts and loudly insisting he will sue them for emotional and psychic damages while Aisha shoplifts bracelets. They buy hot pretzels and perch on the edge of the mall fountain marked 'NO LOITERING' to conspicuously loiter while occasionally kicking each other in the ankle. When a security guard tries to get them to move they collaborate on roasting his bloodline back to medieval times, triggering rent-a-cop wrath and a threat to call the Real Cops.

Now officially Wronged By The System, they decamp to breaking into the mall's back corridors (going through an unlocked access door) to vandalize the security office while throwing gummy worms at each other's mouths and missing 70% of the time. In high spirits, they make their cunning exit (leaving through the same door) and sneak into a horror movie at the mall theater halfway through its run time. They heckle the on-screen slasher victims for being idiots until an usher shows up with the original security guard, and then book it for the outside world while laughing like small and charming hyenas.

They agree they should totally rob the mall for real later, preferably while Brian and Taylor are on their make-up mall date, because they are good and kind teammates who only want the best for them.

(This post inspired by the learned discourses of Wormblr character understanders, particularly users lakesbian and simurghed. Any mischaracterizations and errors are my own. These hypotheticals are a non-representative sample of Ways They Could Be At The Mall.)

#parahumans #wormblr

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venussaidso · 1 month ago

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ˢᵗᵃʳ⁻ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉʳˢ

A lot of Nodal pairings in the media are star-crossed lovers.

She's Swati. He's Ashwini.

Such as 1968's Romeo & Juliet, which is a Rahu-Ketu destined pair.

Olivia Hussey has Magha Moon, Ashwini Sun while Leonard Whiting has Ardra Sun.

In the retelling of this tale, Romeo Must Die instead has a Ketu-Ketu pairing. Starring Magha Moon Aaliyah and Ashwini Sun Jet Li.

And in 2013's Romeo & Juliet, it is now Rahu-Rahu. Ardra ASC Hailee Steinfeld plays Juliet while Swati Moon Douglas Booth plays Romeo.

Then this trope resets back to Ketu-Rahu in the animation Gnomeo & Juliet, in which Ashwini Sun James McAvoy voices Gnomeo (Romeo renamed) and Shatabhisha Sun, Ardra Moon Emily Blunt voices Juliet.

Hailee Steinfeld, again, in this trope, but lesbian. In the series Dickinson, Susan Gilbert and Emily Dickinson are exclusively a Rahu-Rahu star-crossed lovers pair, with Sue portrayed by a Shatabhisha ASC native and Emily by an Ardra ASC native.

The film Brokeback Mountain also has this star-crossed lovers trope. Heath Ledger had Ardra Moon and Jake Gyllenhaal has Mula Sun.

In the film Through My Window, Raquel and Ares couldn't be together for all three films (the worst films you'd ever watch) without their social backgrounds getting in the way. Raquel is played by an Ashwini Sun native and Ares is played by a Mula Moon native.

[can't find ONE gif of them not making out, not dry humping on each other, it's genuinely just porn 💀... still though they had this trope down for a while]

In the film Meet Joe Black, Joe Black & Susan Parrish are literal starcrossed lovers. They are both played by Mula natives.

In the upcoming film Queer, Shatabhisha Sun, Ashwini Moon, Swati ASC Daniel Craig and Swati Sun Drew Starkey are star-crossed lovers during the 1950s.

In the film, Call Me by Your Name, Mula Sun & Magha ASC Timothee Chalamet and Magha Sun Armie Hammer play star-crossed lovers.

In fact, a lot of gay/lesbian centric love stories tend to star nodal people!!! Whether the characters are star-crossed lovers or not.

Such as the film Blue Is the Warmest Colour which stars Ardra Sun, Mula Moon native Léa Seydoux and Shatabhisha Moon native Adèle Exarchopoulos.

I'm currently drafting an essay touching on this deeper. I simply made this post as a foundation for further connections. Also I don't want to make it as if I think Rahu-Ketu, Rahu-Rahu and Ketu-Ketu are interchangeable. I just find it interesting that nodal energy is always present in this trope. I have to set apart the differences and lessons within each pair.

Also this just made me realize why this trope is my fav and why it deeply resonates, even though Romeo & Juliet are so unserious to me. With great writing, the best nodal tension ever is created. 💀

EDIT; FINISHED THE ESSAY HERE YALL GO

#vedic astrology #astrology #sidereal astrology #Shatabhisha #swati #mula #magha #ashwini #Ardra

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shojoqueendom · 7 months ago

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The whole story of the illegal sale of Candy Candy products by Yumiko Igarashi

What is Candy Candy?

Candy Candy is shojo manga that was published between 1975 and 1981 in Nakayoshi magazine. It was written by Kyoko Mizuki (Keiko Nagita) and illustrated by Yumiko Igarashi. It was adapted to anime between 1976 and 1979 with a total of 115 episodes by Toei Animation.

The dramatic story of the sweet and optimistic Candy was an international success and is today an icon of shojo manga and one of the best sellers.

Evidently, the copyright holders are both Mizuki and Igarashi, and the trademark rights holder is Toei Animation.

Beginning of the conflict: Cancellation of the contract with Kodansha

According to Igarashi, her subsequent works at Kodansha didn't achieve significant sales, so the publisher abandoned her.

Candy Candy's views were decreasing over time and Kodansha did nothing. So Igarashi asked Mizuki to cancel her contract with Kodansha, Mizuki chose her friend and they did so on February 26, 1995.

Toei Animation also had a contract with Kodansha for Candy Candy, which automatically expired when Mizuki and Igarashi canceled their contract. To broadcast Candy Candy, Toei Animation had to sign a new contract with Igarashi and Mizuki. Toei Animation and Mizuki tried to contact Igarashi many times for this but were unsuccessful.

Meanwhile, Igarashi was working with Fuji Sankei (now Qualus), through which she was able to offer licenses to many companies to sell Candy Candy products without asking permission from Mizuki or Toei.

The unmasking: Banpresto's purikura

One of these companies was Banpresto Co., Ltd., which develops video games and makes collectible figures. Igarashi lied about creating a new (fictitious) company in Hong Kong with Mizuki and Toei called "Candy Corporation." Igarashi and Banpresto made a "purikura" (Japanese photo booths) contract. Banpresto asked Igarashi many times if Mizuki was aware of this contract, Igarashi always confirmed it. Banpresto considered it rude to ask Mizuki herself to confirm, so they agreed.

So how did they find out what Igarashi was doing? Candy Candy's purikura was set up at the Tokyo Gulliver Store in Matsudo, Chiba Prefecture, which was a large gaming center managed by Banpresto.

Banpresto intended to install its purikura machines throughout the country, including Candy Candy.

Igarashi stated that she accepted the purikura because it was only "a test case" and that she would have no compensation. She said that she was worried that Mizuki would reject the offer because Mizuki didn't like games at all (which Mizuki never said), so she planned to talk to Mizuki later if the test was successful. News of Candy Candy's purikura spread through the media and reached Mizuki in May 1997. Igarashi says that Mizuki told her over the phone that if she had known she wouldn't have refused, and that Igarashi was trying to keep the profits for herself. She said that Mizuki forced her to cancel the purikura event and that she hired a lawyer to sue Igarashi. Mizuki refuted this on her official website. Igarashi stated that she didn't receive any benefit from the purikura because it was only a prototype. Even if it were, purikura isn't free, so benefits were generated.

The problem is that the idea of creating a purikura was Igarashi's, not Banpresto's. Banpresto, upon realizing that they hadn't received permission from Mizuki, removed the purikura and wouldn't move it until the copyright issue was resolved. That's why Mizuki didn't sue Banpresto. Still, Banpresto apologized profusely for being involved in the scam.

Mizuki comments that she wasn't sure about canceling the contract with Kodansha, her husband didn't recommend it, but she still did it and regrets it. Her husband asked the legal advisor who had drawn up the contract, the legal advisor didn't know. Worried, Mizuki and her husband wanted to talk to Igarashi to discuss what they would do with Candy Candy from then on, but Igarashi kept putting off her request, saying that she was busy and for her to wait until the next month, and so on.

Mizuki became suspicious and finally they found out about the purikura issue, they even went to Banpresto to ask for explanations, to which Banpresto responded that they received the copyright to do it from the (fictitious) company that Igarashi created without Mizuki or Toei. They also told her how Igarashi confirmed to them several times that she had Mizuki's permission. Although purikura was considered a test, they received benefits for it.

As a result of this, everything that Igarashi had been doing in Hong Kong was discovered: she published manga products without authorization through Jade Dynasty Publishing. When this publisher found out that they didn't have Mizuki's permission either, they canceled the contract with Candy Corporation.

So far it was discovered what Igarashi had been doing without Mizuki's permission:

Original reproductions by Fuji Sankei and others.

Candy Candy reprint by Fusosha Publishing.

Fuji Sankei CD-ROM.

Postcards and cards manufactured by Jade Dynasty Publishing.

The Banpresto purikura.

Legal CD-ROM Manga.

Illegal CD-ROM Manga.

To all this, Igarashi insisted that 80% of Candy Candy belongs to her, and that only 20% belongs to Mizuki.

The case of fake original illustrations

In August 1997, the sale of original illustrations (again, without Mizuki's permission) was announced in the Sankei Shimbun. Finally, in September 1997, Fuji Sankei was sued for its lack of sincerity. These illustrations were actually prints made by a printer, they went on sale in February 1998 as a high quality print, but people in the art world warned that it wasn't a high quality print. That is, they were selling reprints at a high price as if they were high quality but they weren't.

An expert commented that these fakes have a real value of 30 to 200 yen ($0.19-1.27). If they were originals, it would be between 8,000 and 20,000 yen ($50.73-126.84) (and framed); but Igarashi and Fuji Sankei sold them for between 40,000 and 140,000 yen ($253.67-887.85). The deceived fans were deeply hurt, if they had known that they were buying it without Mizuki's permission and at a higher price than the real one, they wouldn't have bought it.

Mail order advertisements in newspapers ceased, but they were still distributed and sold in art galleries, for example Atelier Beauty and Prince Gallery.

The problem of selling products without the Mizuki's name

A friend of Igarashi spread the false rumor that Mizuki sued Igarashi without talking to her first. In fact, the decision to report a friend of 20 years wasn't easy for Mizuki, but she had to do it AFTER talking to her. But she and Fuji Sankei refused to have a conversation with her about what happened. Several people told Mizuki to be careful with Igarashi, but Mizuki always defended her.

In the indication © on products, the names of all copyright holders must be added and never omitted without their consent. In the following images you can see which are the official products and which are the Igarashi products.

In this bag we see that the three names are included, it is original.

This backpack is also an official product, it contains the names of Mizuki and Igarashi.

Let's now look at the illegal merchandise. In this product we can see only the Igarashi's name.

This other one used Mizuki's name without her permission.

The impossible broadcast of Candy Candy

In 2001 all broadcasting rights granted to foreign companies expired. So the later copies are pirated copies disguised as official products. This was done, for example, by Power International Multimedia Inc., Igarashi's business partner in Taiwan. Even after Igarashi lost her lawsuit in 2008, Power International released this DVD box set unlicensed from Toei Animation.

When it was discovered what Igarashi had been doing, Toei and Mizuko planned to resolve the situation by ratifying the illegal goods (confirming the counterfeit products and rebirthing them as an official product) if the Igarashi side appealed and didn't fight further after the court's ruling, with the intention to help scammed companies. But the matter reached the Supreme Court. The products spread so much around the world that nothing could be done about it.

On August 23, 1999, Mizuki and Toei signed an agreement stating that Toei Animation could register "Candy Candy" as a trademark so that it can broadcast the anime.

Currently, Toei Animation is wary of digitally remastering all 115 episodes (which would cost a considerable amount of money) only to have it eventually canceled due to the ongoing copyright dispute.

Mizuki allowed the anime to be broadcast. But there are many factors why it cannot be broadcast, even abroad:

The contract with Toei Animation hasn't been renewed.

The copyright dispute.

The problem of infringement of trademark rights by Igarashi.

Igarashi sent Toei Animation to court to invalidate its trademark on July 10, 2001, but this was dismissed.

Igarashi filed a lawsuit against Mizuki requesting consent to remake it.

In short, if both creators don't recognize the copyright and give their consent, the anime cannot be broadcast. But Igarashi didn't want to, she even wanted the trademark rights for herself, but Mizuki didn't allow it. Anyway, it's not fair because the anime version is also the work of Toei staff and voice actors. Igarashi gave Toei permission to rebroadcast it, but without acknowledging Mizuki's copyright, it became a vicious cycle.

Japan Manga Society against Kyoko Mizuki

Igarashi has publicly stated on many sites that Kyoko Mizuki isn't the original author. This is quite questionable because the story was written by Mizuki, Igarashi drew it. The Japan Manga Society doesn't offer Mizuki's presence and instead allows Igarashi to present convenient arguments and dismiss the Supreme Court's ruling. The Copyright Subcommittee of the Japan Manga Society declared that Mizuki's blocking the sale of products produced by Igarashi without permission from Mizuki and Toei was an abuse of rights without justifiable reason, even suggesting that Igarashi file a lawsuit against Mizuki.

During and after losing the case, Igarashi continued her illegal business saying that she had reached a deal with Mizuki (a lie).

Yumiko Igarashi on trial

Kodansha itself attempted to persuade Igarashi to apologize and reconcile with Mizuki by submitting a total of 3 statements to the district court in 1998 by Mitsuro Shimizu, the editor in charge of Candy Candy at Kodansha. Still, Japan Manga Society said Kodansha didn't testify. Mitsuro Shimizu explained that the editorial department selected Mizuki as the original author, the concept of Candy was discussed between Igarashi, Mizuki and Shimizu. Igarashi expressed her wishes and opinions but in the end it was Mizuki who made the final decision as the writer. Kunio Hase, the director of the Japan Manga Society said that these statements were false. Yukio Shindo, director of copyright business promotion at Kodansha, stated in court in October 1998 that manga works written from the original work are always subject to the original copyright of the original author, which to use a work for secondary use, permission must be obtained from the original author and the manga artist whatever it may be (even if they're illustrations) and that Kodansha always considered Kyoko Mizuko as the original author during the 20-year contract. The Japan Manga Society said that the Supreme Court's decision to position Mizuki as the original author is an absurd ruling that doesn't reflect the real situation of the manga industry. Kodansha has always maintained with legal opinions that Kyoko Mizuki is the original author and the manga work is a derivative, the work of the original manuscript. Yumiko Igarashi commented that the Supreme Court ruling naming Mizuko as the original author was unfair and doesn't accept that the person who wrote "just the words" has the copyright. In this situation, neither Kodansha can reprint the manga, nor can Toei broadcast the anime.

List of court cases related to “Candy Candy”

February 25, 1999: "Candy Candy" Case (Fuji Sankei)

Mizuki denounces the sale without her permission of false "high quality" illustrations by Igarashi and Fuji Kasei. The court recognized Mizuki as the owner of the copyright and ordered Igarashi to stop publication. Characters can't be used without Mizuki's permission. In November 1995 they signed a contract that established that their consent was required for the use of the characters, but Igarashi breached it.

April 8, 1999: "Candy Candy" Incident (Yumiko Igarashi Museum)

Mizuki denounces that products with Candy Candy's image continue to be sold without her permission, even after winning the first trial. The Yumiko Igarashi Museum had been conducting mail-order sales of Candy Candy products on the official Yumiko Igarashi website.

March 17, 2000: Candy Candy Illustration Sales Case (Shizuka Art)

Mizuki sues Shizuka Art for selling Candy Candy's image without her permission. An interim injunction was granted against Shizuka Art to prohibit sales. Shizuka Art was exhibiting and selling new paintings by Yumiko Igarashi as original paintings.

March 30, 2000: "Candy Candy" Case (Fuji Sankei)

The judge noted that in manga, the illustrations and the development of the story are inseparable and integral. You can't sell the illustrations.

May 25, 2000: "Candy Candy" Case (Kabaya Foods)

Between 1998 and 1999, Kabaya Foods, with only Igarashi's consent, manufactured and sold candy bags featuring the Candy Candy characters. The judge stated that the original author can exercise copyright even if only images are used. The Tokyo District Court ordered the defendant to pay approximately 3 million yen ($19,029.75).

October 17, 2000: Candy Candy Paintings Sales Case (Shizuka Art)

The "Hello Candy Candy" exhibition displayed and sold paintings of Candy Candy, again without Mizuki's consent.

December 26, 2000: Candy Candy Commercialization Case

Mizuki demands Fuji Sankei and Yumiko Igarashi.

March 2001: Japanese anime remake test

Igarashi filed a lawsuit against Mizuki demanding a remake of Candy Candy with Nippon Animation.

August 7-September 28, 2001: Toei trademark invalidation trial

Igarashi filed a trademark invalidation suit against Toei Animation on July 10 but it was dismissed because in 1999 Mizuki and Toei signed an agreement establishing that Toei Animation would register Candy Candy as a trademark.

October 25, 2001: "Candy Candy" Case (Fuji Sankei)

For the third time, the judge explains to her that copyright can't be enforced without the consent of the original author and the manga artist. They granted the copyright to the original author, Mizuki.

February 23, 2002: "Candy Candy" Incident (Lucky Corporation, Osaka)

Lucky Corporation sues Igarashi because it suffered damages of approximately 45 million yen ($285,446.25) from the manufacture and sale of "Candy Candy" products, a right granted by Igarashi but not by Mizuki. Igarashi paid about 10 million yen ($63,432.50) and a settlement fee.

April 2002: Otaru Art Museum Exhibition Test

Yumiko sued Mizuki over the exhibition at the Otaru Art Museum.

May 30, 2002: Candy Candy Clothing Sale (Tanii, Dan Enterprises, Sunbright, Earth Project)

Mizuki sues several clothing sales companies for commercializing Candy Candy characters without permission. The damage claim was for 55 million yen ($348,878.75), but the Tokyo District Court ordered her to pay approximately 29 million yen ($183,954.25).

September 10, 2003: "Candy Candy" merchandise breach of contract case

Toymaker Apple One made Candy Candy puzzles, again, only with Igarashi's permission, not Mizuki's. So they sued Igarashi and other companies that claimed to own the copyrights they granted them to make the puzzles.

July 21, 2004: "Candy Candy" merchandise breach of contract case

The Tokyo District Court of First Instance sentenced Igarashi to pay approximately 1.75 million yen ($11,100.69).

September 2005: Kurashiki Art Museum Exhibition Test

Mizuki against the Kurashiki Art Museum, which held an exhibition of Candy Candy with only the permission of Igarashi, who said "I don't need permission to show it."

甜甜 Lady Lady: The Taiwanese Candy

You may have ever used an image mistakenly thinking it was Candy. That's because Igarashi created a "new original work" called "Lady Lady" in Taiwan that curiously resembles "Candy Candy" (the difference is in the bangs and that she doesn't have freckles). The other two characters also look like Anthony and Terry.

In this way, Igarashi challenges Toei Animation by infringing (again) Toei's trademark rights. As if that were not enough, "Lady Lady" is the title of the animated version of "Lady!!" by Yoko Hide and trademark of Toei Animation. Also, Candy Candy's title in Chinese is "小甜甜" (Xiǎo tián tián), literally "Little Candy Candy". I mean, it's a shameless mix between Candy Candy and Lady Lady. 甜甜 is the Chinese name of Yumiko Igarashi's Lady Lady.

Current situation

Since as of today they have not reached an agreement, the anime cannot be broadcast nor the manga can be published either in Japan or abroad. The authors continued with their professional careers. Igarashi can't create or sell any products related to Candy Candy, something Mizuki can do, without using Igarashi's illustrations.

To date, Igarashi has't expressed any apology to Mizuki or Toei Animation. In fact, she is suspected of still producing illegal goods on the foreign market. Mizuki feels sad, not only because of everything that happened, but also because of the malicious mentality that Igarashi had about her, thinking that she was her friend.

Please, be careful with the products you buy of Candy Candy, try to make sure they're original and not illegal products. Do not contribute to Igarashi's illegal business.

Sources:

#candy candy #yumiko igarashi #toei animation #anime #manga #shojo #shoujo #shoujo anime #shoujo manga #shojo anime #shojo manga #old shojo #old shoujo #kyoko mizuki

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steviewashere · 9 months ago

Text

If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts.

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #3+1 #humor and hijinks #humor #or at least an attempt at humor #mild hurt/comfort

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jjscrybaby · 1 day ago

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first dates <3

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (friends to lovers, just pure adorableness tbh, sexual jokes, kissing, smoking weed.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“So, what does a date with JJ Maybank look like?” Your arm was linked through his, the two of you walking down the beach; the gentle breeze had goosebumps spreading over your bare skin. Sue you for wanting to look nice.

About 97% of the days you’d spent with JJ were in a bikini, pyjamas or just some old denim shorts and a crop top. You never tried to look nice for him, because you didn’t have to. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he was your friend. Ever since Sarah had started dating John B your circles had merged and the two of you had become particularly attached at the hip. Maybe you should have realised sooner you had feelings for him, but the line between friendship and romance is difficult to differentiate sometimes.

Surprisingly, you weren’t confused when he asked you out. It felt normal, felt right. You’d given him a sweet smile, kissed his cheek and told him to pick you up at seven.

“I can’t say I’ve been on many,” he admitted, shrugging his jacket off to put on you. “But, usually, I start with food.”

“You always do,” you tease, putting your arms through the hoodie with a grin. He linked his fingers through yours, throwing you a wink as he changed directions. You didn’t realise where you were headed until you were stood outside. “You want to have our first date at the Wreck? We eat here all the time.”

“You love the cheeseburgers,” he shrugged, holding the door open for you. The bell jingled above you, you looked back at him with a giddy smile.

Kiara, luckily, wasn’t working tonight so you didn’t have her eyeing the two of you like an overbearing mother. A waiter came over to your table and he ordered, knowing just what you wanted without you having to say a word. He’d decided to sit beside you instead of opposite, in a little booth in the back, you were pretty sure it was just so he could rest his hand on your thigh.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he complimented. You’d decided on a sundress, knowing he had a thing for them.

“You’ve told me several times,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You look beautiful, too.”

“Aww, thanks,” he laughed, making you giggle.

First dates were usually awkward, you’d always need at least two glasses of wine to loosen up. You hadn’t even had a sip for this. You adored JJ, he already knew everything about you so there were no awkward conversations needed to be had. He’d held your hair back whilst you threw up in a bush after one too many tequila shots, so you couldn’t possibly embarrass yourself. You felt completely relaxed, it was the best you’d felt in a long time.

Your food and drinks arrived, his hand didn’t stray from your thigh the entire meal. He flirted with you nonstop, but you very quickly realised he’d been doing that since you met. The teasing comments, the unsubtle looks, it was nothing new; and yet you still blushed every time.

“What’s next?” You asked as the two of you left the restaurant, his wallet the only one feeling a little emptier.

“The nice meal wasn’t good enough for ya?” He joked, arm around your shoulders.

“It was exquisite, but I think you can do better,” you shrugged, reaching up to hold the hand he’d wrapped around you.

“We’ll see.”

The arcade was your favourite place on the island, not for the games, no, they were fun but they weren’t the reason you loved it so much. You went there purely to people watch. A variety of people came into the arcade, and you loved to make up fun stories about them. And, of course, JJ knew that.

“What ‘bout them?” The two of you were sat, sipping slushies and looking around the room. You’d played a few games, he let you win every time, and now it was time for the real fun.

“She’s pregnant but hasn’t told him yet, because it’s not his baby,” you replied. He gasped dramatically, making you snort into your cup.

“Who’s the daddy?” JJ asked, subtly pulling you closer to him so your back was leaning against his chest.

Your cheeks went pink, but you chose to ignore it and take another sip of your drink; even as he let out a chuckle. “That guy.” You pointed to an elderly man who was standing in the corner.

“Damn, he’s still got it,” JJ murmured. You giggled, turning to face him with an amused smile. Your faces were inches apart as he grinned back at you.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you; he cupped your cheek and gently stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, but just as you were about to lean in he brought his hand back, licked his thumb and then rubbed it over your top lip.

“Slushie juice,” he explained, licking his thumb before looking around the room again. “Ooo, what about her?”

You were on his back as you walked back across the beach, your feet were hurting because you decided to wear uncomfortable shoes that went with your dress and you’d refused to walk any further. He didn’t even flinch, just bent down in front of you and waited. He was carrying your shoes, babbling on about something John B had done.

“Where are we headed?” He asked, adjusting his hold on you. “The Chateau?”

“On the first date? Who do you take me for?” You smirked.

“Says the girl who slept with Brandon Gibbs after the first date. Am I not good enough for you?” He replied dramatically.

“Hey! You promised to never bring that up again,” you whined.

He laughed, suddenly stopping in his movements to drop you back down. Instead of giving you your shoes like you expected, he sat down on the sand and waited for you to join him. “There’s one part of a JJ Maybank date that we haven’t done yet.”

“On the beach? Dirty,” you smirked, sitting down next to him.

“Shuddup.” He pulled out a pre-rolled joint from his pocket, waving it in your face. “My speciality.”

“Did you grow it?”

“I’ve had enough of the smartass comments, baby.” You couldn’t come up with another one, not with the way the pet name left his lips. He’d called you baby plenty of times, but something about that moment just made it feel special.

You shared the joint, passing it back and forth as you talked softly to each other. By the time it was finished, you were sitting in his lap with your eyes half open and kisses being pressed to the side of your head.

“So, how’d I do?” JJ murmured, lips only inches away from your ear.

“10/10,” you replied, running your hand through his hair with a lazy smile. “Best date I’ve ever been on, hands down.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he grinned. “You think I did good enough for a kiss?”

“Mhm, maybe,” you teased, turning your head so your lips brushed against his. He let out a shaky exhale, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands like he’d done earlier on; except this time, there was no juice.

His lips moved smoothly against yours, hands pulling you as close as humanly possible. His tongue licked over your bottom lip, causing a hum to leave yours.

“Do you want to go on a second date?” He murmured against your lips.

“And a third,” you grinned.

When you both finally pulled away, both your lips were puffy, your hair messy and cheeks flushed. Neither of you had ever looked happier.

“C’mon, you’re carrying me to the Chateau if you want that second date,” you stated, standing up.

“Am I gonna be the new Brandon Gibbs?”

“Not anymore, you’re not.”

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank prompt #jj mayback imagine #obx

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guksvault · 1 month ago

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HOUSE OF BALLOONS | JJK

07- SIDEWALKS

synopsis: fleeing the pressure and pretense of your elite life, you stumble into the seductive chaos of the House of Balloons. there, Jungkook waits— ready to make you question everything you thought you knew

w/c: 4.7k

warnings: another party! w Val!, chims <3, get to know Val a lil, jk is such a bad liar!, smut, titty lovin’ (ofc), unprotected sex (WRAP IT UPPP), jk likes to swap cum ok, sue me, lots of peach soju, merry-go-rounds, some more gossip girl, reader is feeling bold!, aftercare :), lots of rule breaking!

!minorsdni! | masterlist

Jungkook has never found much joy in weekdays. He’s always hated how slow they feel, how the days blur together into an endless wait for the weekend.

Patience has never been his strong suit; it’s always been one of his biggest flaws. His mom used to scold him as a kid whenever he ran into the kitchen every five minutes, asking if dinner was ready yet.

Not much has changed. Now, Jimin’s dad scolds him every time he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time as he counts down the minutes until his shift ends.

In reality, Jungkook didn’t mind spending his evenings at Chim’s. He actually quite enjoyed it—the smell of grilling meat, the low hum of patrons’ conversations as he wiped down the table beside them, even the occasional tap on the back of his head from Jimin’s father when he got caught checking his phone. It reminded him of his mother.

With only an hour and a half left of his shift, the restaurant was quiet. A few scattered customers—mostly drunk old men leaving their office jobs, stopping by to grab their first real meal of the day, accompanied by a bottle or three of soju.

But every time they walked in, there was an off feeling that settled at the bottom of Jungkook’s stomach. The way they drank themselves sick and stumbled out, only to return home to wives and children who deserved more—it made something sour twist inside him.

He never wanted that to be him. Had made a promise to himself that he would never let his future children see him like that. He knew all too well how important a good father figure was, how much he’d longed for that himself when his own father left, choosing booze over the love Jungkook had always offered.

He hated his father. A coward. Blamed him for his mother’s death, for taking away his childhood and forcing him to grow up too quickly. Blamed him for everything, and maybe that was fair.

“Two pretty girls waiting for you to take their order, Jungkook,” Jimin’s father said, his voice calm as he tossed Jungkook’s apron over his head.

Jungkook blinked, shaking off the remnants of his father’s memory, pushing the resentment and bitterness back into the recesses of his mind. He made his way towards the back of the restaurant, where Valerie was waving at him, her giggles filling the air.

“Leaving a strongly worded review about the extremely inattentive staff tonight.” Valerie teased, her smile mischievous.

“Fuck off, Val, or I’ll have you banned for another three months.” Jungkook snarked, a small laugh escaping as he tied his apron behind his back and made his way toward the booth.

Valerie had just finished a three-month ban from Chim’s. Jimin’s father had told her that if she smashed another shot glass, she’d be out for the night. But that had been before the soju bottle incident—when she drunkenly smashed it on another party’s grill and knocked over his tip jar during her off-key, show-stopping performance of ‘Rock Your Body’. She’d been in timeout for three painful months after that.

It wasn’t until Jungkook stood at the end of the booth that he realised you were the one dining with Valerie tonight. He watched as you laughed, Valerie going on about Jimin’s father not appreciating how fabulous her performance had been.

“Be glad you weren’t here for it. Sonically, very rotten,” Jungkook said, his tone dry.

You looked up at Jungkook as Valerie swatted his arm, telling him to “fuck off.” The brown apron tied at his waist only emphasized how small it really was. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the ink etched into his skin, and his hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, shorter strands framing his face.

“Two bottles of peach soju and a seafood pancake,” Valerie beamed, “Taking her to her first street rager.”

Jungkook’s face scrunched slightly at the mention of the street party, was one of his items on his long list of ‘things I hate with an extreme passion.’

He had enjoyed them some time ago, always going with the boys and having a blast. That was until he’d accidentally hooked up with one of the hosts’ girlfriends, which had led to a brawl.

After retrieving the order, Jungkook slid into the booth. There was barely anyone left now, and he was feeling thirsty for some of that peach soju.

He watched as you and Valerie laughed and talked over the meal, though it seemed like you both had forgotten about it the moment the second bottle of soju was cracked open. Half the time, he had no idea what you guys were even talking about, convinced that girls spoke an entirely different language.

“Surprised you’re not spending your Wednesday night having dinner with the Mayor or some shit,” Jungkook spoke up, his fingers fidgeting with the lid of the half-empty soju bottle.

You snorted lightly. “That’s Tuesday nights.”

“You know the fucking Mayor?” Valerie choked out.

“I was being sarcastic, you fucking idiot,” Jungkook groaned.

You rolled your eyes and laughed as Valerie pinched Jungkook’s nipple and twisted it, threatening to staple his balls to his forehead if he called her an idiot again.

“Why don’t your parents marry you off to someone like him? A mayor is far sexier than a hotel manager,” Valerie chirped, her tone light and teasing.

You stiffened, the mention of your parents and marriage sending an uncomfortable pang through your chest. “Firstly, ew. They’re all like a hundred years old. Secondly, I’m not marrying a hotel manager. Not marrying anyone,” you added, forcing a laugh, but it came out half-hearted, the words tasting bitter in your mouth.

Jungkook hadn’t expected Valerie to know about your parents’ plans to marry you off into some loveless arrangement, but it only confirmed how close the two of you had grown.

As Valerie kept talking, Jungkook watched you closely, noticing the way your posture shifted uncomfortably. He saw the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your laughter sounded flat and strained. Your hand reached for the soju again, as if keeping your shot glass full could drown out the weight of the conversation.

“He’s cute though, the guy you showed me. At least they don’t want you marrying someone who looks like a melted mug,” Valerie rambled on, unaware of the discomfort that had crept in between her words.

“Or they could just let her marry someone she actually loves?” Jungkook almost hissed, irritation creeping into his voice. He thought Valerie had rocks for a brain—always talking but never saying anything worth listening to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. In fact, he’d found her quite alluring when they’d first met. She was pretty, carried herself with the kind of confidence most people only dreamt of. But, holy shit, she was a yapper—far too dramatic for his taste.

Jungkook’s comment caught both you and Valerie off guard. He was sitting on the opposite side of the booth, next to Valerie, eyes locked with yours. You could feel the heat of his gaze before his lips curled into a smirk.

“Tell ‘em to go fuck themselves,” he said, downing his shot like it was nothing.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, a quiet sense of relief washing over you. Jungkook had helped put an end to the conversation, and in that moment, it felt like someone finally understood. Someone around you had finally agreed—your parents were batshit crazy.

Valerie watched the exchange between you two, her eyes narrowing as she saw the small smile you shared with Jungkook. She wasn’t used to seeing him defend anyone, let alone sound defensive on someone else’s behalf.

“Anyways, should we make our way?” Valerie shifts in her seat, sliding out of the booth with a quick fluid movement.

Valerie makes a quick stop to the bathroom before the walk to the party, and you follow Jungkook to the register, tapping your card against the reader to pay.

Jungkook watches as your fingers slide your card back into your wallet, noticing how your eyes avoid his—darting around the restaurant, anywhere but meeting his gaze.

“Take these. Don’t trust no fuckers drinks over there,” Jungkook mutters, sliding two unopened bottles of Soju across the counter toward you.

You glance down at the bottles and then back up at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “All part of the fun, no?”

“Don’t fuck with me, D.D. Bunch of weirdo’s over there, take it.”

You take the bottles, offer a small thank you and give a small wave as Valerie returns and pretty much drags you out of the restaurant.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The street party wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined. Unlike the House of Balloons, where people came together, here everyone seemed to isolate themselves in their own little groups, clinging to familiar faces. The music blared from a cheap speaker, instead of the hands of a pretty little DJ spinning his own decks. No red lights casting a moody glow over the crowd, just a few dim streetlights flickering above.

You’d already witnessed three fights, two projectile vomits, and one missing Valerie—all within the span of an hour and a half.

Sitting on the curb, you sipped from the bottle of Soju Jungkook had given you, the other bottle tucked into the crook of your arm, your gaze wandering over the chaos around you.

You found yourself caught in a meaningless conversation with a group of strangers who had joined you on the curb, when one of the girls in their group dramatically declared she had to know where your shoes were from—or she would die.

“You came alone?” Minho, the guy sitting to your left, asked, his voice genuinely curious.

You shook your head softly, taking a sip from the soju bottle to mask your frustration. “Was with a friend, she saw someone and ran off for a bit.” Your voice slightly bitter at the mention of Valerie ditching you.

“Ah! That’s the guy I was telling you about! Woosung!”

You looked at Valerie with a hint of confusion, trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy.

“You know, the guy I’ve been ‘seeeeing’? Gonna go say hi, don’t go far.” She said, practically bouncing as she ran off toward him.

Five minutes later, you got a text from her: Going to his place. Don’t wait for me!

“Ah, you can hang with us until she comes back, then?” Minho flirted, tapping his beer cup against your Soju bottle.

Honestly, you were ready to go home. Valerie ditching you at this crappy street party to hook up with some guy had killed any remaining party mood you had.

“You wanna come back to ours? We’re having drinks at a place a few streets down. Could be fun.” He smirked, his finger playing with the silver bracelet around your wrist.

“Stopping by Chim’s first for food. Shitty place, but decent food.” He added.

You pulled your arm back slightly irritated. “Chim’s isn’t shitty.” You took another swig of your Soju.

You replied with a shrug, debating if knocking his beer out of his hands for shit talking your friend's restaurant was rude or not.

“Come on, everything’s shitty around here,” he smirked, “but sure, come with us and maybe I’ll change my mind.”

Minho wasn’t taking no for an answer. He shoved his beer cup toward you, the foam sloshing slightly.

“Taste good, have some.”

“Not really a beer girl.”

He scoffed, the sound covered by a forced laugh, before nudging the cup against your hand again. “Just a little.”

At this point, you’d come to the conclusion that knocking his beer out of his hands wouldn’t be enough—he needed to wear it. You opened your hands, ready to take the cup from him, but then you felt a knee press into your back.

You snap your head to look behind you, ready to tell whatever drunk idiot couldn’t watch their fucking steps, but stopped short when you looked up. Standing there was a familiar tattooed, doe-eyed boy.

“There you are. Been looking for you.” Jungkook’s voice was low, and he pressed his lips together in a small tight smile.

Your previous look of disgust at Minho had been replaced with confusion, and you tilted your head slightly, narrowing your eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

“C’mon” Jungkook took a few steps back, cocking his head toward the street, silently inviting you to follow.

It was a no-brainer. No need for goodbyes, no hesitations. You stood up, grabbed your bottle, and walked toward him.

"Told you not to drink anything but the Soju, your ears painted on or some shit, D.D?"

You hold up both bottles of Soju-one almost empty, the other still sealed. "Didn't drink anything else, thanks though, Dad."

"Don't call me that, I've fucked you and your tits. I'll have to really consider regretting it if I find out you have a daddy kink." Jungkook fake gagged out.

You swat at Jungkook's arm, making him stumble on his own feet.

"Where the fuck's Valerie?"

You shrug slightly, "Hopefully getting her own tits fucked, ran into some guy she knows."

"Valerie ain't got tits to fuck." Jungkook deadpanned.

You laugh-not at Valerie's lack of tits, but at how casually Jungkook drops lines like that.

You've noticed this about him before-his ability to speak his mind without hesitation. It's something you envy. You wish you could say exactly what was on your mind, whether with Minho or your parents.

You and Jungkook continued walking, engaging in small conversation here and there—He would point out little spots he and the boys would hang out, or point out a tree he had climbed as a kid and fell off. Nothing important, but it felt like Jungkook was opening up to you slightly.

You had both strolled into a shitty park, a few houses down from the House Of Balloons, you had demanded to go, told Jungkook that it felt illegal to not take advantage of the kid free space.

You were both sat on a slightly rusted Merry-Go-Round, sharing the bottle of Soju. It was quiet, the only sound being when the rare car would pass by, or drunk delinquents would pass by.

“Why were you even there? Thought you said you weren’t a fan.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered toward yours as he leaned against one of the rusted metal poles. “I’m not. It’s a shit hole. Just passed by on my way home.” His nose twitched slightly, his gaze dropping to the bottle of Soju between you.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

He had actually walked all the way home, stood in front of his door for a solid 40 seconds, and then turned right back around, heading toward the street party. Told himself it was because he was bored, that he’d make you pay for the Soju—nothing more. Definitely not because he wanted to see if you were having a good time.

Is glad he did now, as soon as he got there and spotted you he saw you with a bunch of rando’s. Knew that as soon as he couldn’t see Valerie by your side, she had fucked you over.

“It’s fuckin’ cold. Home. Let’s go.” Jungkook stood up, jumping off the Merry-Go-Round with an exaggerated stretch. He watched you get to your feet, then couldn’t resist—pushed the metal bar as you stepped off. His laugh echoed through the empty park as you lost your balance and squealed when the thing spun beneath you.

You look up at Jungkook, "You fucking asshole!", You manage to jump off, lunging at Jungkook as he runs away.

He lets you chase him down the street to the House Of Balloons, calls you a 'slow fucker', tells you that you run like a little bitch.

Jungkook’s hand presses lightly against your lower back, guiding you through the house without a word.

“Just go to my room, you can call a ride or some shit. Everyone should be asleep, don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he whispered.

You stepped into his room, the familiar scent of chamomile washing over you—a soft reminder of the last time you were here, on your knees. After rummaging through his dresser, he tossed a black shirt toward you without meeting your eyes.

“Here.”

Catching it and tossing it aside with a casual shrug. “Don’t need it. Ride won’t take long.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, his expression giving away exactly what you both knew—that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He quietly slipped out of the room, heading downstairs to grab a couple of bottles of Soju. When he returned, he was half-surprised to find you standing by the desk, draping your clothes over the chair, already wearing his shirt.

He flops down onto his bed, discarding his own shirt and throwing it onto the floor. Grabbing his TV remote and opening the bottle of Soju with his teeth.

"Gossip girl?" He offers as he lets the lid drop from his teeth into his lap.

You move yourself beside Jungkook, lean your back against the headboard and hum softly in response. Both of your eyes are locked onto the screen, silently passing the bottle back and forth between each other.

Jungkook's mind, however, was a mess. This wasn't how he did things. Never had been. He had rules-strict ones: Fuck, cum and get the fuck out. Which he is now, shitting all over. He had invited you in, pretty much asked you to stay and is letting you watch Gossip Girl with him.

And then there was the other rule. The one he had never, ever broken before: never fuck the same girl twice. But with you, everything was starting to blur-he hadn't exactly fucked you twice, had he? He'd fucked you, and then, well... he'd fucked your tits. But now, everything about it felt... fuzzy. His thoughts were blurring together, his rules, his actions. The lines were getting hazy, and he couldn't quite tell where he ended and where you began.

He was watching you from the corner of his eye, how your neck bobbed slightly as you swallowed the Soju, how your legs were bare under his shirt, the way it rode up your thighs as you sat next to him.

"You gonna take the bottle or keep drooling all over your bed at my legs?"

"Fuck up, D.D." Jungkook took the bottle from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours slightly, sending a warmth that shoots from his fingers brushing tips, right to his cock.

He shifted slightly, downed the remainder of the Soju and placed the now empty bottle on his nightstand.

"Should I call a ride or you gonna fuck me?"

Jungkook's eyes shot to yours, hadn't expected that—Fuck, he also hadn't expected it to make his cock firm.

His eyes darted back and forth from your eyes to your lips, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck it. His hand moved before he could stop it, reaching out to grip your jaw, pulling you toward him. And then, his lips crashed against yours, desperate and full of need. His thoughts spiraled, and all he could focus on was the heat of your mouth, the way you tasted.

Messy. Hot. Intoxicating. His hands grabbing the sides of your waist as you shifted to straddle his lap. You kissed your way down his neck, a trail of warm, soft kisses.

"Fuck, D.D." His hands roamed over you, squeezing your tits roughly, sliding down your sides before finding your ass, grabbing and pulling you closer. A low groan escaped his lips as your hips started to roll over him, the friction driving him wild. "Want you, fuck— need you."

Your hips continue to slowly roll over Jungkook's hardening cock, the fabric between you both causing friction. You pull your head away from Jungkook's neck, your palms running down his chest slowly.

"No one's stopping you," you murmur.

Jungkook's hand grabs your jaw again, pulling you in for another heated kiss. He pulls away after a moment, his eyes scanning his bedside drawer for a condom. He hisses out a frustrated ‘Fuck!’ when he realizes he's out.

"Shit, I canrun down to the convenience store? Or see if one of the boys has one?"

You look at him with a raised brow, your hands slowly trailing lower. "You clean?" you ask softly, your touch sending a shiver down his spine.

"Fuck D.D, yeah 'course I'm fuckin' clean." His own hand moving up under his shirt that covers your body, right to your chest, slips his hand under your bra and grabs a handful of your breast.

"You sure?"

"You callin' me a slut?"

"Yes."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, takes your nipple between his two fingers and rolls it slightly. "Haven't fucked someone raw in like a year, tested last week. Clean."

"Give me anything, and I'll get a hit out on you." Your hands hook underneath the hem of Jungkook's shirt that’s hanging loosely over your body, pulling it over your head and onto the floor.

Jungkook lets out a soft groan of approval, his hands immediately coming behind you to unclasp your bra and throwing it to join the shirts on the floor.

"Fuck." His mouth moves to your nipple, wasting no time to swirl his tongue around the hardened bud, grazing his teeth against it softly.

Your head rolls back, your hips beginning to roll over his again. When you look down and see Jungkook's round eyes looking up at you as he sucks on your nipple, you think you simply might pass away.

You lift your hips slightly and let Jungkook push his pants down and kick them off. You watch as Jungkook's hand pumps his cock a few times, his other hand resting against your hip slowly guides you down.

You press your core to the tip of Jungkook's cock, his hand still at the base of his cock moves slightly to rub it over your folds a few times.

He watches as your lower lip gets caught between your teeth, how your hand holds onto his wrist that's holding your waist. Watches you slowly begin to lower yourself down his cock. Each inch entering you earning a soft whine from your pretty lips.

"Fuck D, so fuckin' tight." Jungkook hisses through his teeth, his hands moving to your tits, squeezing them roughly as you sink down to the base of his cock.

Your eyes flicker up to Jungkook, your hips beginning to roll over his cock. He looks at you, his pouty lips resting ajar, his eyebrows pressing together each time your hips roll.

Jungkook's hands wrap around your waist, holding your back as he moves his legs to lay you down against the mattress, He settles onto his knees, grabbing your knees and spreading your legs apart.

He lets a drop of spit fall from his lips down to your clit, pressing his thumb against it and rubbing small delicate circles over your clit.

"Fuck. Like that, fuck-" Your hips angle upwards, grinding up onto his cock as his thumb presses against your clit.

"Yeah- Fuck yourself D.D. Just like that, so fuckin' hot."

Your hips roll in synchronicity with Jungkook's finger rolling over your clit. Jungkook's hips snap forward, needs to feel your walls contorting around his cock. He lets himself press himself fully into your cunt, slowly sliding out and slamming back into you.

His pace quickens, "Look at me D, watch me fuck this pussy." His own eyes lock onto your half lidded eyes, your lips parted for the endless moans that beg to escape.

His hips continue to fuck into you, only quickening when he feels your walls tighten even more and your finger comes to your clit to help your orgasm wash over you.

"Don't stop- gonna cum Kook, fuck."

Kook. Jungkook thinks he's gonna cum from hearing that alone. Only makes his hips fuck into you harder, his hand coming to squeeze your tit, "Gonna cum on these, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and let me cum on these?"

Its over. Jungkook's filthy mouth is enough for your fingers to quicken as they circle your clit. The feeling of Jungkook's hips slamming into you filling the room with lewd sounds, is all it takes for you to be creaming over his cock.

Your walls pulsate around his cock as your head falls against the mattress and your back arches as your orgasm takes over you, your moans growing desperate as Jungkook's hips don't falter in pace, the over stimulation making your legs shake slightly.

"Fuck, so fuckin' pretty. You're so fuckin pretty, you know that D.D? Could watch you cum forever."

Your hand comes to cover your face, only to be slapped away by Jungkook's, "Don't hide, need to see that pretty fuckin' face while I cum, hm?”

As your fingers wrap around Jungkook's hand that's holding your thigh open, your nails dig in slightly, gonna cum again if he keeps going.

"Cum for me, cum on my tits Kook, in my mouth. Wanna taste you."

Jungkook groans out, his hips stammer into you a few more times before sliding out of you and standing by the edge of the bed, "Up, knees. Gonna cum."

You're on your knees, hands pushing your tits together, Jungkook's hand comes to grab your hair and pull slightly to inch your head to look up at him, his other hand jerking the fuck out of his cock as his moans fill the room. He had wanted to fuck your tits again, but as he looks down at you, your eyes slightly glassy, hair messy and your lips resting ajar, he doesnt have it in him. Is cumming.

You feel Jungkook push your head slightly, opening your mouth as Jungkook presses his tip against your tongue, letting spurts of hot cum shoot onto your tongue, let’s his cock move to your lips, your chin, down to your tits. Wants you messy.

He leans down slightly and rests his forehead onto yours as he lets the high if his orgasm settle, "Fuck, D.D. Don't know what I'm gonna do 'bout you."

Jungkook is quick to grab the pack of wet wipes from his bedside table to clean you up. Doesn’t really want to, would be happy to leave you like this, thinks you look devine covered in his seed.

He sits beside you on the bed, taking the view of you holding your cum-covered tits, lets out a small grunt of appreciation, wants to reach into his drawer for his disposable camera and be able to see you like this whenever he pleases.

He brings his head closer to your chest, replaces one of your hands with his own and squeezes your breast softly, runs his finger over your nipple. When he hears the small whimper escape your mouth, he swears it's the most intoxicating sound he's ever heard.

He lowers his head, brings his tongue to your nipple and licks slowly before taking it into his mouth. He looks up at you, see’s you looking back down at him, doesn’t want to stop, knows he should. He releases your nipple with a small pop and drags his tongue up your breast, coating his own tongue in a layer of his own cum.

He brings his free hand to the back of your neck, brings his lips to yours and swirls his cum coated tongue with yours. Heavy breaths, soft grunts exchanged into eachothers mouths.

He sits back upright, brings the wipe to your chest and begins to slowly clean the mess painting your chest. It’s quiet, no need for conversation.

He stands up and heads towards the trash can beside his door, throwing the used wipes inside. As he grabs the shirt he had given you earlier, he tosses it your way, “Go, shower. Use the white towel, it’s softer.”

You head to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the sins off your body, you don’t take too long, its late, know Jungkook also needs a shower.

You return back into Jungkooks room, taking a seat back on the bed, Jungkook throws you a quick glance as he gets ready to shower, “Don’t fuckin’ go anywhere, alright?”

Jungkook returns a short while later, his hair still damp, pushed back, wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers.

"You can stay," he says, nonchalantly as he climbs into his bed.

"Can also leave," you reply with a dry tone.

"Yeah, could stay though," Jungkook smirks, eyes glancing toward you as he settles back into the bed. One leg tucked under the covers, the other bent at the knee, nudging against yours.

You meet his gaze, noticing how his eyes, usually so narrow and guarded, are rounded now.

"Only staying for Gossip Girl."

"Only offering for another orgasm."

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