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a-b-riddle · 8 months ago

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Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

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mossangelll · 17 days ago

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Yandere!Jinx x Reader

Bath Time 🛁🫧

a/n: decided to indulge my weird thoughts…sorry for any grammar/tense mistakes i wanted to write this down so bad i barely proofread 😭

pic from @arcanescreencaps

tw: afab reader, dubcon, improper drug use, smut but nothing too detailed - mdni

Why did you have to be so stupid and sprain your arm? It wasn’t even that bad, just some mild swelling and a touch of discomfort - in the outside world, where you still had independence and freedom, you would’ve handled it perfectly fine.

But you’re with Jinx now, holed away in her den where she treats you like you’re made of glass. In another life her doting care would’ve been such a welcome comfort but here it’s like being stuck under the hot summer sun, stifling and oppressive. She had decided you were too injured to care for yourself so she took over instead. It was finally time for you to have a shower and no matter how loudly you protested she decided that she needed to bathe you to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself even more.

What a load of bullshit.

So, after your ‘tantrum’, she had wrestled you into the bathroom. The tub was almost full to the brim with bubbles and even a…graffitied rubber duck floated along the still surface.

You grip onto your towel and look back at Jinx, who stares you down with a look that says ‘drop it’. You don’t dare challenge her silent demand, you upset her enough by hurting yourself - you’d rather not be punished again.

Your shaking hands let go of the fluffy towel clenched in your iron grip knowing you can’t delay the inevitable any longer. Her eyes seem to darken the second your towel is on the floor, eyes roving your naked body as she bites her lip. Tears well in your eyes at being subjected to something so, so humiliating.

You jump into the tub without a second’s hesitation; all you want to do is sink under the water and drown but you know Jinx would never let that happen. You settle for using the bubbles as a sort of cover to protect yourself from her wandering gaze. She kneels down at the side of the tub getting all the toiletries she would use ready.

She’s oddly quiet as she takes a sponge and douses it with apple scented body wash, her body wash. Her hands are careful as they scrub at your your back, apologising whenever one of her long nails happens to catch on your skin.

It’s not so bad, you think. The water is warm and Jinx had started humming one of your favourite songs. You don’t like the fact that nothing of yours really belongs to you anymore, but you downright despise the way you actually like the way her scratchy voice follows the music.

“Ya know, my sister used to do this for me back when I was little…” Her voice seems so small and pensive as her train of thought wanders off into the heaviness of the humid air as she continues to scrub.

You wait for her to continue but she’s clammed up, focusing instead on getting you clean. The only times you heard about this mysterious sister was when you set her off and she would rampage, letting loose little details her and there in her episodes.

Your heart aches for her but you don’t even know why. She kidnapped and hurt you but still she finds a way to infiltrate every aspect of your being.

Her hands travel to your neck and arms, a trail of suds following her circular motions. Your eyes are closed as you relish in her ministrations before they’re suddenly jolting open, realising where Jinx's hand has stopped.

“Toots, you, uh, don’t mind if I make sure you’re all clean?” Her low voice calls out, eyes glued to where the tops of your thighs would be under the suds and bubbles.

Her fingers tremble under the water, sponge drifting closer to the apex of your legs. You find yourself squeezing your eyes shut out of instinct when you realise how ruddy the apples of her cheeks are, how heavy the pants that rumble out from deep down her chest are. You try to angle your body away from her leering gaze but there’s no point - the tub is too tight and you don’t want to risk her anger at getting everything soaked.

You don’t even bother answering her indulgent question as you know she’s not truly asking you feel about her endeavour.

Your chest is tight with fear and anticipation like ripping off a sticky bandaid that you know is going to sting.

The sponge delves between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation of the porous sponge the feeling so shocking, your thighs tremble in response.

At first she really is just cleaning you and you suppose she would’ve had to do it at some point. You relax thinking you can let your guard down - she’ll move onto your legs and soon you’ll be done. Soon you can forget all about this experience.

But she doesn’t stop. The sponge is now petting you, her delicate manner swapped for harder pressure. Your legs squirm and you try not to keen at the sensation. What is she doing?!

The damp heat in the enclosed room must be getting to your head. You feel a delirious, warmth spreads from the base of your feet and up, up, up; you have to fight just to remind yourself that she is your captor. She is insane and she will stop at nothing to keep you with her, even if it means killing you and taking herself with you.

And still, despite the mantra you repeat, your head feels impossibly heavy and you have to lean your head back just to ease the pressure. She rubs at a particularly sensitive spot and you can’t help but let a small moan slip out from your lips.

Jinx’s perceptive link eyes dart up to look at your contorted face, travelling down your neck and stopping just where the bubbles meet your breasts.

God, you don’t want her to think you’re enjoying what’s happening to you.

But it’s clear she does as the blush on her face travels down to her chest and it’s like she’s a flashing red flag screaming danger but you can’t find it in you to pull away. She lips her chapped lick and grinds the sponge even harder against your clit as your hips cant towards her searing touch.

Jinx has never initiated anything sexual before and now here you are mewling for her as if anything about this situation is normal. You hate yourself so much for giving into her but your brain is so scattered and you’re too tired to revolt against her.

Electricity is sparking down your spine like a live wire in water and you feel yourself reaching your peak so close and just right and-

Jinx pulls her hand out of the water like she’s been burnt. Her eyes blown wide and she seems to be shaking - why has she stopped? She shakes her head as if to clear the stray thoughts that vacate her mind.

How could she do this to? Humiliate you by treating you like a child and then touching you so intimately knowing she wasn’t even going to stick around? Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and you just want to drag her back so she can touch you more.

Her body is stiff as she stands up to dry her hands like nothing even happened between you two.

“I need to uh…finish a job for Silco. You know me, shirking all my work! He’ll kill me if I don’t leave right now at this very second. Yeah.”

Her voice wobbles as she rambles on and you can tell by the way her eyes shift as she avoids your gaze that it’s a lie. You know she knows that you’re aware of this fact. You scoff with a roll of your eyes and splash your foot in the water, booting the rubber duck out of the tub and it plops out with a distorted quack. You feel used, even more so when you realise the fire in your stomach seems to be burning stronger for Jinx.

She scurries over to the exit, hand reaching for the door handle, eager to make her escape before she pauses, turning to look at you one last time.

“You can finish bathing yourself, right sweet cheeks?” Her face is still dusted with pink and her eyes are glazed with wonderment as she stares down. You slowly nod your head yes, anything to get her to leave you alone.

Jinx takes her leave and shuts you in to be alone with your thoughts. She waits for a second to hear for the splash of the water before sliding down the door, long blue pigtails pooled at her feet. Her eyes are closed in bliss and she brings the hand that was washing you to her mouth, taking a tentative lick - as if she’s committing the taste of you to her memory.

A small grin erupts on her face - today was a victory.

She needs to let Singed know that this new shimmer variant was a success, a great one, and she needs more.

masterlist

#arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #toxic jinx #yandere jinx x reader #yandere!jinx #fem reader #manipulative jinx #jinx league of legends #jinx #wish she would do this to me #we’d have a bathtub date #AND the duck can stay

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago

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Tutor Me

michael gavey x bimbo!reader

A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.

TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps

word count: 2,099 words

You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.

Was he waiting at the door for you?

He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.

“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.

“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in.

You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.

“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.

“Started with what?” He blurts out.

“Trig?”

“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.

You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.

“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.

“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”

“Clearly.”

“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.

“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.

“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”

Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.

“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.

“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.

You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”

“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.

“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.

“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”

“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.

“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.

“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”

He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.

“Out.” He says finally.

“What?”

“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.

“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.

“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.

“I’m not leaving,”

“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.

“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.

“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.

“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.

“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.

“I do.”

“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

“You really want to kiss me?’

“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.

Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.

That was easy.

“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.

“Sit down on the bed.”

He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.

“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”

“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.

“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”

“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.

“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet.

“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.

“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.

You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.

“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised.

“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.

He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.

“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.

Then you realize.

He just came in his pants.

When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.

“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.

“Michael-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just look at me-”

“That’s so bloody humiliating.”

He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around.

You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.

“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”

He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.

“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.

He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.

“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.”

“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.

“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.

“No?” He grins a little.

“I just needed to adjust.”

“To my huge dick?”

Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.

“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.

“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.

You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”

His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.

“F-Fuck.”

He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.

“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”

He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.

“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.

“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.

He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”

“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”

He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.

“Let me eat your pussy then.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #saltburn smut #saltburn #ewanverse #ewan mitchell

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thisapplepielife · 5 months ago

Text

Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

I'm An Island, But You're An Ocean

Day #13: "Please, stay?" | Word Count: 2191 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Recovering From Injuries | Tags: Post S4, Steve the Caregiver Makes Eddie Want to Run, Self-Sabotage, Angst w/a Happy Ending

They're fighting. Sort of. Kinda.

Eddie isn't exactly sure what's happening here tonight.

The air feels weird between them, and Eddie wants it to very much stop being whatever this is, immediately.

"Settle down. What's the commotion?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's shoulders, stilling him.

It pisses Eddie off.

So, he shrugs Steve off, because Steve can't be touching him. Not like that. Not now. Not ever.

Even if he wants him to be. That's exactly why he can't let this continue. It's too dangerous.

Eddie knows he's being bullheaded, knows he's digging his heels in for no good reason, but he also knows that Steve's pushing. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Always. He never relents. Never gives up about anything that he gets in his head.

And for some godforsaken reason, Steve Harrington has made him a project. His main one, as far as Eddie can tell. Eddie definitely never asked for, or wanted, that. It makes his teeth itch, to have that kind of attention shoved his way.

Which is weird. Eddie loves attention. But not this specific attention. Because he doesn't know what to do with it. It's too overwhelming.

Steve wants Eddie to eat more. He wants Eddie to walk again. He wants Eddie to go home from the hospital. He wants Eddie to play the guitar. He wants Eddie to take a shower.

He wants, wants, wants.

Eddie does one thing, and Steve will think up six more to add to the list. It's a never ending list of demands.

And yet, even with all those demands, Eddie isn't sure what Steve wants from him. Not really. It can't actually be the things he's demanding, because those don't affect Steve's life at all. What Eddie does, or doesn't do again, is no concern to him. Eddie can waste away in bed, and Steve Harrington should be unconcerned. Steve doesn't need to be here. He's made his amends, not that any of this was his goddamn fault anyway. Steve didn't drag him into this fucked up mess. Steve didn't bite him, chew him up, and spit him out.

So, he can go.

But he won't budge, just scoffs, and stays. Never taking a goddamn hint. He can't actually be that thick, but Eddie tries to push him away, and Steve moves closer, somehow. It's like they're coming at this from entirely different directions.

Eddie doesn't know how to make it clear that Steve's repaid his imaginary debt. And Eddie can carry this load, alone. Would prefer it, honestly.

Eddie is an island, Steve is the whole goddamn ocean.

He's overwhelming, and as much as Eddie wants to grab on, and ride that wave, he's too scared to leave the safety of the shore. Eddie doesn't get things as good, as open, as cool blue as Steve Harrington. Not ever.

"You can leave," Eddie says.

"I don't want to leave," Steve answers, distracted as he looks through their co-mingled tapes. Shuffling, banging them around, like he doesn't have them all memorized. Like he's not gonna choose the same bullshit he always picks.

Eddie can't take another minute of it.

"Well, maybe I don't want you to stay anymore," Eddie snaps, and Steve freezes. He looks like a goddamn deer caught in headlines. Blindsided. Shocked.

Has Steve really never considered that before? That maybe, just maybe, Eddie would like to be alone for a while? Why is that so hard to comprehend?

"Oh," Steve breathes out, and it's like Eddie's slapped him. Then he says, quiet and small, "Sorry. I didn't. Sorry."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, regretful, unable to watch him crumble. Eddie can see that he's made Steve smaller, and it's carving away at Eddie's ribs.

His heart.

He didn't mean to do that. He just wanted to usher him out now, ahead of schedule. Rip the bandaid off. Bad news first, always. Get it over with. No reason to let it fester.

And Eddie's life up until this point? Has been pretty much all bad news.

Eddie opens his eyes, needing to see what Steve's doing. It's too quiet.

And that means he has to watch as Steve starts to gather up his things, all of his things, and they've quite obviously accumulated over the summer. Like everything Steve owns has multiplied and spawned all over Eddie's room. This isn't gonna be fast, because Steve's gonna need more than one box, more than one trip.

And Eddie can't really help. He just has to watch.

Eddie sits back against the wall, and as soon as Steve's taken the first load out, Wayne is in the doorway. Looking at him with something akin to disapproval. Of course he is.

"Where's Steve goin' with all that stuff?" Wayne asks.

"Don't know, don't care. Out of here," Eddie says, and he refuses to look up. Because he knows Wayne will read him like a goddamn open book.

"Eddie," Wayne says, soft and disappointed.

"Don't Eddie me. He has a life to get back to," Eddie argues. "Steve Harrington can't hole up in the bedroom of a vaguely exonerated maybe murderer. It's absurd."

And Wayne shakes his head, leaving him be.

Wayne gets him, at least.

So, Eddie watches as Steve rushes through his departure.

It looks like a break-up, a moving out, and that's painful in a new way. Since they aren't that to each other, and never will be.

Just when he's gotten it all, or at least everything visible to the naked eye, Eddie thinks they're done here. Finally.

But Steve comes back, this time carrying in, instead of out, and hands over Eddie's battle vest, no longer as nasty as he'd last seen it.

The blood is mostly scrubbed out, and some of the patches have been replaced by an inexperienced hand.

"It was supposed to be for your birthday, but, here. The best I could do," Steve says. "It's not great. I'm not great at, well, much. I know."

And Steve pinches his nose, closing his eyes, "Sorry that I overstayed my welcome."

Eddie wants to say he didn't, wants to take it all back, wants to hand over his heart in his trembling hands. Wants to buy anything Steve's selling.

But he can't.

"Thanks for everything," Eddie says, and he means that. He does. He wouldn't be here at all without Steve Harrington. And that's a lot. A lot, a lot.

But Eddie doesn't know how to do this, doesn't think Steve would want him to, even if he knew how.

"Can you make it easier for me to understand?" Steve asks, and Eddie doesn't exactly follow.

"Understand what?" Eddie asks, fiddling with his blanket.

"What I did? Or, not what, maybe. Just. When? How long have I been bothering you?"

"You're not bothering me," Eddie says.

"Then, why do I have to go?"

Eddie closes his eyes and sinks back into the pillows. The big, thick ones that Steve brought him, thinking his were too flat and sad to prop him up while he convalesced.

"Because you don't want to be here," Eddie says, waving his arms around. It pulls at his scars, the skin tight and wrong, he winces, hand finding his side.

Steve moves, on instinct, taking one step forward before catching himself. Stilling, again.

"You don't get to tell me what I want, Eddie. I guarantee you don't know shit about what I want," Steve says bluntly, and it's the most forceful thing Steve's said to him in months.

Everything else has been presented as persistent suggestions. This was just a fact. A fact that fucking stings.

"Yeah, well. Nothing in my life ever came with a guarantee," Eddie says, and Steve hangs his head. Eddie doesn't mean to be so fucking negative, but it's hard. He's stuck. Damaged.

Pissed off.

He thumbs at his jaw, his face, forever fucking marred. He doesn't think he was much to look at before, all big eyes and wild hair. But now? Now he is that monster they all said he was.

Steve reaches for the vitamin e oil on his desk, handing it to him. Every wince he's made, Steve has had a fix for, and he thinks this is gonna fix Eddie's scars. Eddie's skeptical, at best. He hasn't seen any damn difference. It's all still awful.

His face. His chest. His sides. His fucking dick. Well, not his dick. But right above it. His thighs. His calves. His fucking ankle.

He's beyond damaged goods. Not even The Frugal Hoosier would want to sell the wares he's working with now.

Steve is cautious, but he sits on the edge of the bed, quiet for a minute, before finally asking, "Do you really want me to go? Or are you scared I might want to stay?"

Eddie covers his face with his hands. Of course he doesn't want him to go. He wants to keep him for-fucking-ever. He's just not gonna get to, so sending him away now seemed like the best bet to retain any of his sanity at all.

"I'm an island, but you're an ocean," Eddie finally says.

And Steve laughs.

Which makes Eddie smile, reluctantly.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not a songwriter. I can't speak in riddles," Steve says, still smiling.

Eddie doesn't know what it means. Well, he does, but explaining it makes him feel foolish.

But he'll try.

"I can only rely on myself-"

"That's not true," Steve interrupts. "You've got Wayne. And the rest of us."

Eddie holds up his hand, "Let me. Let me try."

Steve nods, motioning like he's zipping his lip. It's charming. But everything about him is charming.

Eddie's so fucking charmed.

"I'm just me. An island. Solitary and confined to my own little box. And I'm not mad about that. Not anymore. I don't want to be pestered, or poked, or prodded. I just want to exist, cut-off from the world."

Steve's frowning.

"And you're an ocean. Lapping at my edges, threatening to overtake me at any time. You're a flood, waiting to happen."

"Eddie…"

Eddie shakes his head, "You are. I feel a lot, Steve. I feel a lot, and it's overwhelming to have you surrounding me on all my edges. Looking for a way to breach your way inside."

Steve raises an eyebrow, expert, and fucking funny.

Eddie laughs, "Not like that, pervert."

Steve just smiles, then frowns again, "I'm smothering you, huh? That is a thing I do."

"No. No," Eddie assures. "Well, yes. But I don't hate it. I'm just scared of it."

"I don't want you to be scared of me," Steve says.

"Well. I am," Eddie answers, and Steve moves to get up, but Eddie reaches out and catches his arm.

He's already spilled enough for the blanks to be filled in. He can't hide from this. Not now.

So, Eddie tugs on him. Not allowing him to leave, even if that's what he asked for. He doesn't want that now. Never did. He's just a goddamn idiot that loves to run. And well, his body isn't in running condition at the moment. So, chasing away seemed like the next best bet.

Only, Steve's hard to scare away. Thank god.

Steve smiles, and scoots up the bed, until he can sit right next to Eddie. Then he reaches down and takes Eddie's hand. It's not the first time he's held Eddie's hand, he did it a lot in the hospital, but this is different. This time, Eddie's fully with it, and present.

"For what it's worth," Steve says, looking at him, fully. Not shying away from a damn thing, "I'm not scared of you. Or what I feel about you."

Eddie smiles, teasing, "What do you feel about me?"

"Annoyance mainly," Steve snarks, squeezing his hand, "but other things, too."

"I feel other things, too," Eddie admits.

"Good," Steve says, "Now, can I unload my car and stay already? Are we done with this dumb shit you're trying to pull?"

"Yes. Please, stay? Worry about the car tomorrow," Eddie answers, "tonight, just lay here with me?"

"Okay," Steve says, "I can do that."

And Steve helps him get comfortable, like he's done a million times before. A pillow under his knees, rotating his hips just so, everything very carefully choreographed to take the pressure off Eddie's body so he hurts less.

Steve's an ocean.

And Eddie will stay surrounded, and float with him for as long as he can.

Eddie picks up Steve's arm from where it's slung over his side, and kisses his palm.

"I'm sorry I was being a dickhead," Eddie says, maneuvering so he can rest his cheek in Steve's palm.

"Oh, I'm used to that," Steve teases, hooking his chin over Eddie's shoulder, pressing his lips to Eddie's other cheek.

And Eddie turns his head, catching Steve's lips with his own. It's chaste, and a little dry, but for a first kiss it sure feels like the start of something bigger, and better, than Eddie ever could have imagined.

If this is what being swept out to sea by Steve Harrington feels like, Eddie knows he'll happily drown.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

Notes: This has references to You're An Ocean by Fastball in it. This was originally gonna be for SteddieSongFics last month, but I went another way, and expanded this for Angsty August. But the references to the lyrics in the song remained, lol.

#steddieangstyaugust #stranger things #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieangstyaugust

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heartsaturn · 1 year ago

Text

We knew the whole time

jack hughes x reader || insta edit

warnings: fluff, swearing, trevor slander (i love him dw)

summary: you and jack have been best friends ever since you were little. you also may or may not constantly act like a couple.

a/n - the devs vs ducks game on sunday was a train wreck so here’s a little fic to comfort everybody, including myself. lets hope the devs vs flyers game is better.

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes and 5,197 others

yourusername jack, thank you for putting up with my bullshit for so long 🫶

tagged: jackhughes

load comments…

lhughes_06 Hmm, some of these pictures are little couple-y don’t you think?

yourusername no! i don’t think!

jackhughes thanks for such a kind caption 😐

yourusername i put a lot of thought into it just for you 🤭

trevorzegras oh?

yourusername i wish i never told you

jackhughes ??

trevorzegras i am also shocked he has put up with you for so long

yourusername i’m a delight!!

elblue6 ❤️❤️

yourusername mama hughes 🥹

user56 are they dating?

user12 no they’ve just been friends since they were little

user34 they’re so cute!

user67 yall can we talk about the last picture? are we sure they’re not dating?

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte and 10,411 others

yourusername this just in: trevor cannot keep his fucking mouth shut (but we already knew that)

tagged: jackhughes

load more comments…

lhughes_06 barf

yourusername stop being a hater

trevorzegras what is it, bully trevor day? be grateful because without me neither one of you would’ve confessed

yourusername i’m not being grateful to a snitch

trevorzegras low blow 😔

jackhughes i can’t believe how oblivious we both were

yourusername were we really THAT oblivious?

trevorzegras yes

_quinnhughes yes

lhughes_06 yes

_alexturcotte yes

colecaufield yes

yourusername okay i get it now 😥

_quinnhughes you guys are cute ig

yourusername this is why you’re my second fav hughes brother 💙

lhughes_06 i beg your finest pardon???

yourusername sorry lukey

username6 i knew they were dating! (i was being delulu)

username32 what if i lay on a train track tonight 😭

username10 they make me feel lonely

jackhughes added to their story!

#🎀 𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬!!#heartsaturn #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #trevor zegras #luke hughes #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #insta edit #social media au #hockey #new jersey devils #x reader

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simonisferal · 2 months ago

Text

not you again! “scaramouche x male reader”

episode thirteen: holy shit, am i hallucinating or do i see a bobble-headed bitch coming my way? 📖

warnings: vulgar language, death threats, average scarayn interaction, i lost my train of thought mid sentence and winged it

notes: i rewrote this four times and i hated each version so just have this 😭

words: 900

You remember the last time he looked at you like that.

It was three years ago, the summer you were planning to move from Inazuma. Your parents wanted a new start someplace else.You didn't complain. You couldn't complain. How would you explain everything, let alone anything to those two?

He didn't take it well, as expected. You tried, you really did, but it was a futile attempt as he turned away from you and stormed off.

He is still the same person.

Scaramouche's blood ran cold. Of course he knew you were going to be there—he purposefully went there to see you—but you were different now. Your eyes didn't have the same pain they used to have. Even before the summer started, you managed to harbor some sort of hurt in them. Scaramouche can't figure out if that's a good thing or not.

He looked about the same. The same mole under his left eye, the familiar wrinkle on his cheek when he pressed his lips together, the demure posture he forces himself to wear. His eye bags were heavier and darker, his nose was crooked from where you last touched him, and his hands wavered by his side before he put them in his pocket.

It was probably the flask of vodka Childe decided to sneak in and let you drink that made you remember so much but you speak. "What are you doing here?" You don't miss the way his eyes flicker to the side just for a second, his jaw clenches, or how his grasp inside of his pockets tighten. "Nothing important. I have to do something."

There was an awkward silence that filled the cellar, basement, whatever the bitch is. "Do what?"

It wasn't louder than a whisper but you know he still heard it. Scaramouche opens his mouth to speak but then closes it. He clears his throat. "I need to say…" He pauses. "...Sorry."

It was a confusing feeling. Someone you shared years with, someone who'd never back down easily, someone who'd rather run away from his problems than settle down and work them out, saying sorry. Did he change or is he joking for the hell of it?

"Sorry? Is that all?" You can't help the accusatory snarl that comes out. He could've done anything else, but showing up in person just to apologize is crazy. "Did you really come here for that or did you see me and think it was funny to joke?"

You can tell that he regretted talking to you, maybe even coming from wherever he was, but you didn't care. You continued your little rant, not giving him a chance to speak, "I'm supposed to fucking believe your 'sorry' ass when you can't even look me in the eye? That's a load of bullshit. You're here on someone else's agenda, not yours." You point a finger at him and then retract it for a second before pointing it again, this time with more sentiment.

He looks away from the ground and up at you. His eyebrows were furrowed and a hint of bitterness. "You can't even speak your own mind. Don't come after me with your idiotic view of me."

"Right, because you can." You scoff.

Scaramouche glares at you. He takes a small step closer to you, not really making a difference in the large gap you two have. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means. You think playing ’good little son’ is gonna get you your mother’s favor back? Hilarious."

"I don't want her favor back," He snarks. "I don't need it." He takes a small step closer to you, as if daring you to take one too. He had this strange way of pulling you closer to him.

"Of course! Because you going to Harvard was always the plan—you just needed to convince your mom it wasn't what you wanted, like the manipulator you fucking are." You didn't really care that the music upstairs stopped or that the stairs hesitantly creaked as more weight was put onto them.

"You don't know what you're talking about. You never just have the patience to liste—"

You cross your arms. "Because you do?"

Scaramouche pauses. He never thought you would remind him of his mother in any way; that was one of the traits he liked about you, but now, seeing you 'scold' him as if he's in the wrong just made him feel exasperated. "Stop saying that like I'm the only one with flaws. We both know what sick game you were playing while…"

He can't even get the words out of his mouth.

They tasted too bitter and bloody and he struggled even thinking about it.

"I didn't do anything. And if you weren't so stuck up your ass about how I felt about you back then, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Oh, really now?" He raised an eyebrow and leaned in a bit closer to you. "Where would we be then? Still together?" It was a sick joke, the first thing that came to mind even though he had practiced speaking to you in the car beforehand. He expected a slap, maybe another punch, or an outburst of insults coming his way, but no.

Instead there was just an awkward shift in posture, a pressed frown, and a forced scoff.

"Maybe."

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: @furiscara, @fisbred, @shutingstar, @terapung, @scaradooche,

@yangbbokari, @swivy123, @featuredtofu, @pookiemax, @academiq,

@notrsz, @mercy-not-merci, @kiekole, @pwaap, @vxcmx,

@heusalettle, @khisuko, @neversore, @liuaneee, @popcorn-milk,

@vamxpi, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @b2tr09, @ell1e2010, @moonslie04,

@allaboutiknowthatyoubeingdead, @somnium-kiss, @crxwned-mxnarch, @jad3-n, @emptydinner-plate

@alicerosejane, @khsuvy

#📖; not you again!#wanderer x reader #wanderer x male reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer smau #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #genshin impact smau #scara x reader #simon.txt

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whatwouldsylwrite · 2 years ago

Text

At least I got you in my head (1)

prologue

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: take a shot every time Abby experiences ~gay~

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It all had started when Abby’s nice, perfect, amazing roommate decided to get married at the ripe age of 21 - which Abby didn’t understand at all, but she got invited to the wedding, so she kept her mouth shut about it. Except the marriage meant that her nice, perfect, amazing roommate would move out and go live her dream life with her sweetheart. And although the money wasn’t really a problem - Abby’s dad was a neurosurgeon, which meant he was loaded and Abby didn’t have to worry about anything financially - Abby really didn’t want to bother her dad and spend his money on the whole apartment when she could find a roommate.

That was how Abby ended up with you as her new nice, perfect, amazing roommate. She didn't even care that the first thing you said to her was that you were a lesbian - which she didn't mind at all, 70 percent of her teammates were not straight, she was used to it, even though she was straight. But after Abby gave herself time to think about it, she understood why you said it right away - not all people were nice, and not all people were okay with living with someone who potentially could be attracted to them.

Abby was absolutely cool with it.

What she actually cared about was if you left your dishes in the sink, and you didn’t.

The first week living together was what Abby expected it to be: you both were getting used to your respective schedules, your habits and pet peeves, not talking much - Abby wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be her friend or you’d prefer to just stay as roommates who saw each other twice a day for five minutes. The most you spoke to her was to ask where something was or if it was okay to use something and where you could put all your things.

Abby thought you were chill and confident with the way you carried yourself - it reminded her of some of her teammates, who were confident in a way girls were not expected to be confident. More like dominant? And they had nothing in common with you. Well, except for the gay thing. Abby wasn’t sure if there was a correlation.

You both weren't at home a lot, but usually when Abby'd get from practice you'd be already at home and just out of the shower. Abby felt a little awkward when she saw you in a short towel and she tried not to look at you or anywhere dangerous. You didn't seem to notice how she only looked into your eyes when you walked from the bathroom to your room, water running down your neck and your thighs as you said your hellos. Abby didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, because she showered with 20 girls on regular basis and it didn’t make sense that she felt the need to look away from you, but who had time to reflect on it? Not Abby.

Abby would hit the shower next and come back to the smell of food in the kitchen - you told her on the first night that you didn't mind sharing your food with her or even cooking for both of you, and Abby quickly agreed to your offer.

That was a first ritual you two established: Abby'd come home, take a shower and then hang out with you in the kitchen while you were cooking dinner. Today you looked a little tired, and Abby got it - it was Friday and the whole week was hard for both of you with getting back into studying mode.

“How are you on this god-awful day?” You asked Abby with a small smile while you fried something on the pan.

“Happy it’s the end of the week.” Abby sighed and leaned back on her chair, relaxing. “Profs are already talking about the finals, so annoying. We just had one class, calm the fuck down.”

“Yeah. It’s bad for you med students.” You said with no actual compassion, but with a smile. “Sorry, I’m going to remind you that this misery is your choice every time when you’ll be on the brink of death during finals.”

Abby laughed at that.

“Unfortunately for you I’m not the one to complain about my choices.” Abby shot back and you laughed.

“That’s admirable.” You nodded your head in theatrical appreciation. “Then you can make fun of me during finals because I will be complaining about every little thing. In a funny way, don’t worry.”

“Thanks for clarification.” Abby chuckled.

“Do you want to watch something after we eat?” You asked casually and Abby felt her heart beating faster - you wanted to be friends with her after all!

"Yeah, sure."

You smiled at Abby and turned the stove off, taking the plates from the cabinet to put your food on. Abby was cool. She was sweet, a little of a scaredy cat with you - you didn’t think anything of it, you just met, maybe she was just awkward with new people. Abby looked confident with her friends and when you saw her in the corridors of your university Abby looked downright intimidating, tall and strong, commanding. At home though? She seemed shy. You supposed she'd get more assertive when she'd get comfortable with you, but even now she seemed like a genuinely cool person.

You were still dealing with how attractive Abby was, your eyes always lingered on her shoulders and arms - you had a thing for athletes, what can you say - but you tried to suppress it as best as possible. The fact that Abby was so sweet around you didn't really help either, but what we can’t act upon makes us better at repressing, so that was what you were doing for the past week. The best strategy you had was to remind yourself Abby was straight, and it was working, especially if she gave you compliments the way only straight girls did, with this high tone at the end - if Abby wasn’t that buff she’d probably ask where did you get something just to finish you. Thank god you had a very different taste in clothes.

You finished your dinner making a small talk, still getting used to each other's mannerisms and sense of humour, with yours being more dark. Abby was surprisingly good at keeping up with you and not stuttering in shock when you’d say something awful, and it made you smile every time she'd make a comeback that was just as good. Again, it wasn't helping.

"What do you want to watch?"

"I like horrors, actually." You said as you sat on the other side of the couch, keeping the distance.

"Yeah, we can watch some horror." Abby shrugged as she sat down and gave you the blanket. "More cosy that way."

You smiled and put it over your lap.

Not. Fucking. Helping.

Abby watched you getting comfortable and something filled her chest with pride, like providing comfort for you was something important to her. Well, Ellie always said Abby was a mom friend, and she was. She liked taking care of people around her, and now that you were her roommate she'd take care of you too.

"Do you like horrors too or do you want me to hold your hand during scary moments?" You asked with a smirk, and Abby huffed.

"Are you trying to trick me into holding your hand?" Abby smirked too, pleased with your little surprised reaction.

"I'm more of a cuddler." You winked and Abby laughed. She liked how easy it was to banter with you even though you knew each other only for a week. "No, really, are you okay with horror? I don't want you to have nightmares after."

"I'm okay, don't worry." Abby murmured and gave you the remote. "I'm not a big fan, so you choose."

You shrugged and went through the list of horror movies while Abby got comfortable on the other end of the couch, leaning on the arm rest. It felt a little awkward, to be that far away from you - Abby was so used to always being close with her girl friends, but to be fair, you weren’t even friends yet. The movie you picked wasn’t a slasher (“i want to be scared, not grossed out”), but more of a psychological horror that actually made Abby uneasy. And then this movie had a fucking jumpscare that made you both jump and curse out loud. Abby let out a small chuckle and you shared a look between you, silently bonding over a scary feeling.

“You sure you don’t want to hold my hand?” You teased and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but her heart was still beating too fast from the sudden scare.

“I’m not a little bitch.” Abby said and smiled when you laughed.

“Okay, big bad Abby.” You murmured and focused on the movie.

Even though the movie was unsettling, your little bitchy comments were making Abby laugh way more than feeling scared.

"Do you really enjoy getting scared or are you just choosing something to complain about?" Abby asked with a smile.

"Horror movies are like straight sex, you know. In theory you get scared shitless, in practice you complain about men not knowing how to scare you." You shrugged and Abby snorted, feeling like this was too real. "Sorry if I'm being crude, I got too comfortable for a second there."

Abby noticed your look, like you were trying to read her reaction if you crossed a line, but Abby only laughed.

"Do I look like someone who can't take a sex joke?" Abby teased as she stood up, stretching.

"Should I assume you're tough as fuck because you kick ass?"

"Yeah, you should." Abby murmured and looked in your eyes. There was a second of silence while you just stared back at her, surprised, and Abby felt something warm in her stomach. "Tea?"

"Yeah."

After that movie night things got so much easier for both of you, and after three weeks of living together you already fell into the routine like you lived for three years already. You became friends very fast, quickly moving from spending evenings in your rooms to spending evenings hanging out in the living room together. It was like you just clicked in all the right places, balancing each other out, and you couldn’t feel more relieved. You were getting used to Abby and your first intense attraction finally ebbed away: you were not going to chase after a straight girl - you were not, in fact, an idiot. And you weren’t going to question her sexuality or try to “turn her gay”, because who were you to tell her who she was? Abby told her she was straight, and that was it. You still enjoyed looking at her and flirting with her, and Abby was an amazing person so it wasn’t hard to like her. But otherwise? Abby was an amazing roommate and even better friend.

The end of September came around so quickly you didn’t even notice, too busy with classes and tutoring and maintaining some kind of social life, because Cait really needed someone to drag her out from the fucking library and ventilate her big brain. You admired her study habits, but sometimes she’d forget to sleep, and you had to kick her ass and make her take care of herself. That was the price of being friends with the smartest woman on campus.

It was again a Friday night when you cooked and Abby sat at the table while you chatted about your days and plans, now so much more comfortable with each other. You were right, Abby just needed to get used to you in order to stop being so shy and you basked in her confident personality now.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“I don’t kno-o-w.” Abby sighed like tomorrow's plans were torturing her. “Ellie wants to go out, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood.”

“Well, I plan to go out too, actually. Maybe we can join forces?” You asked curiously. “I feel like Cait would enjoy Ellie’s company if she is the nerd you’re saying she is.”

“She is an embarrassment.” Abby shrugged and you laughed. “I’m still shocked how she has any game at all.”

“Listen. Is she hot?”

“I guess?”

“Then there you go. She has game because she is hot.”

“That’s kinda shallow.”

“Do you really need to get to know someone better to hook up?” You scrunched your nose in doubt.

“I mean, some people do.”

“Then it’s not a hookup anymore, no? I mean, if I just want to get some stress relief do I really have mental space to learn about someone’s political views?”

“So you’ve fucked republicans.” Abby nodded and you laughed. “That’s fucked up, (y/n).”

“You see, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Obviously you won’t miss the fact that they’re an asshole, so if it’s not the case, why not? Dating is a different story though.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded again.

“So are we going out tomorrow?”

“Well, when I’m attacked on two fronts I don’t feel like I have a choice.” Abby chuckled the way it made you hot, but yet again you pushed the stupid feeling down.

Abby watched you cook as she was digesting what you’ve just discussed. It was the first time you acknowledged your sex life and Abby felt a little uneasy. Sex talk didn’t make her uncomfortable, and other people’s experience didn’t make her feel insecure, so she really couldn’t place why she felt just a little icky. Maybe your crudeness finally crossed her line? But Abby wasn’t sensitive to such topics, Ellie talked her ear off with her sex escapades, so why did she feel so strange? Her stomach growled and suddenly everything made sense: she was just in a low, sensitive mood because she was hungry and tired.

And indeed her mood got better after she took the first fork filled with pasta and her stomach was now growling in happiness.

“There’s a whole whale living in your stomach.” You smirked, but your stomach growled too and Abby snorted.

“Seems like you had one too.”

“Whale to whale communication.” You shrugged and Abby chuckled. “Have you ever listened to whale songs?”

“No. But I heard they’re supposed to help you relax.”

“Well you’re listening to one now, so you tell me if you’re relaxed.”

“Oh I’m so relaxed I’d listen to the sound of not being hungry for hours.” Abby said and watched you roll your eyes fondly, because you looked so funny when you did it and Abby liked it. Abby’s phone buzzed with a notification and she unlocked it, but the clock caught her eye. “It’s almost 8, don’t you have a lesson?”

You looked up with saucers of the eyes and Abby laughed at how shocked and scared you got.

“Fuck!” You said with a mouth full of food as you jumped out of your chair while Abby laughed at you. “Fuck, how much time do I have?”

“Three minutes.”

“Shit. Fuck, can I ask you to sort this out?” You nodded at the food on the stove and at your plate. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, don’t worry.” Abby said gently, trying to soothe you. “Go teach poor kids.”

You nodded and ran to your room to get yourself set up, and Abby finished her dinner while texting Ellie.

from: els

soooo

are we going out tomorrow ?

to: els

you r so annoying

but yes

(y/n) wants us to go together, she is going out with a friend too

from: els

oooh

coooool

you mean I’ll meet the smart sexy lady you live with?

Abby rolled her eyes - she mentioned once that you were smart and she was learning some things from you and Ellie couldn’t leave her alone after that.

to: els

yeah

but don’t be a dick to her

from: els

excuse me

I would never be a dick to a lady

to: els

you’re a dick to me all the time

from: els

who said you were a lady

The audacity of this bitch, Abby thought as she sent Ellie a not so sweet sticker. She finished her dinner while bickering with Ellie and then tidied the kitchen. Your lessons were usually around an hour, so Abby didn’t need to hurry. She washed the dishes and put leftovers away. Abby thought it was so nice of you to cook for both of them, it was warming her heart - she didn’t like cooking, and having someone to take it off her was so amazing. God if you weren’t busy she’d hug you right now, she was so grateful.

But Abby settled for setting up her favourite part of Friday nights: beating your ass in Mortal Combat. What can she say, seeing you riled up but helpless against her, cursing her but unable to win anyway - fuck, Abby loved it. Now she'd just need to wait for you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #aligyimh

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dreamwatch · 5 months ago

Text

Looking California, Feeling Indiana

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

(I’m laptop-less tonight so hoping typos etc aren’t too bad - I’ll fix them tomorrow 😆)

The logistics of getting home are left to Jeff. They have a van that might get them from California to Indiana, a station wagon that should get them there, but six years worth of possessions and equipment into a van and station wagon doesn’t go. They sell a load of their shit before heading home. It’s not like they need most of it anyway.

It’s a sombre journey, so different to the one they made to Los Angeles six years ago, so full of hope and excitement, one step closer to their dream. They could have stayed and just built lives there, grounded ones, sensible jobs, sensible hours, sensible lives. But Eddie needed to go back, even if it was just for a few months; he’s twenty seven in a few weeks and he feels like a seventy year old. New aches over old hurts, mystery illnesses slowing him down.

(He knows they’re Upside Down related, knows no one can do anything about them, and knows they’re getting worse. He hates knowing things.)

The Welcome To Hawkins sign looks new; Wayne said it still gets vandalised from time to time, a new one in its place the next morning, reckons they’re buying them in bulk.

Jeff drops Eddie off first because Wayne’s waiting around to see him and get his shit inside before he has to get to work. He’s sixty five now. He shouldn’t be working in that fucking plant anymore. How many times did Eddie say one day Wayne, you’ll see. Useless fucking liar.

They hug, they eat, Wayne looks him over with a sigh; he’s too thin, too pale, leaning on that cane a little too heavily. Eddie knows it comes from love but it’s a lot.

Wayne grabs his keys and his lunch box. “Steve called, by the way. Numbers on the fridge.” There’s a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s good to have you home, Bub.”

Bub. Wayne hasn’t called him that in years, and Eddie smiles to himself, surprised at how much he missed it.

He calls Steve, yeah journey was okay, no roads were fine, yeah all settled in. Steve tells him he’s coming to get him, they’re going for dinner, no arguments and he finds he has in fact no intention of arguing.

Steve looks good. He seems broader, hair is longer which thrills Eddie, and the wire rimmed glasses are like a glacé cherry on the cake that is Steve Harrington.

He gets a whistle stop tour of his friend’s lives, Steve so proud of all their achievements. Tells him Hawkins is different now, friendlier, more welcoming. Happier.

They pick at fries, Steve pushing his pickles to the side of the plate for Eddie. Eddie does his best to hide his smile.

“How are you? You look…”

“‘Tired and too thin’ according to my dear, beloved uncle.”

“I was going to say ‘good’, actually, asshole.”

He grabs a fry from Steve’s plate, drags it through Steve’s milkshake. “Don’t lie to me, Steven.”

“Wayne told me, about your health, the band splitting up. I’m really sorry, man. That fucking blows.”

“Thanks,” he says with a wan smile. “It does indeed blow.”

“You know you probably just need some rest. Give it six months, and you’ll all be back in LA, tearing the place up. You were so close, man.”

He snorts, a humourless laugh. “Yeah, not so much actually.”

Steve leans back in the booth, arm hooked over the back

“Bullshit. You had label guys there just a couple of months ago, and it’s slow, remember you said yourself, it takes time, you don’t just get signed overnight.”

“Steve,” and he says it gently, because Steve means well, and he’s supported them, financially at times, when he was too embarrassed to call Wayne. Steve would send a check or wire him money. And even thinking about that makes this so much harder.

“There was no label guy. There’s never been a label guy. Or girl, for that matter.”

Steve frowns at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

And this is it, isn’t it? This is the moment he has to release it into the world.

“I’m going to tell you something nobody else knows. Not even Wayne.”

Steve leans forward, arms crossed on the table. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“We failed, Steve. We failed. The last gig we played was about nine months ago, some frat house party Gareth found for us. It was shit. Because we were shit.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, Steve. We didn’t have a hope in fucking hell. Do you know how many bands there are in LA? How few of those ever get a sniff of a record deal.” He shrugs, casual. The sting from the hurt doesn’t burn quite as much as it used to. “We just weren’t good enough, that’s all.”

Eddie watches as the cogs in Steve’s head turn, trying to lock into place. “But your health…”

“Is not great. I didn’t lie about that. But, I leant into it. It’s easier to blame a bum leg and chest infections than admit you’ll never achieve your dream because you’re not talented enough and you’re fucking delusional.”

“You are talented,”

“We’re not. Or, not enough, anyway.”

“What are you gonna do? What are they gonna do?”

“Wayne’s trying to find me work at the plant. Jeff is talking about community college. Matt will probably go work for his dad. Gareth’s probably going to go to Indy, find a band there. Good luck to him.”

Steve drives him home, actual home now, not that dirty little apartment in LA, but a place where he’ll always be wanted. Will always be good enough.

They pull up outside the trailer, and Steve reaches over, grabbing Eddie’s hand. It’s clumsy and awkward, but the intent is clear. Trying to pick things up where they left them.

“It’s good to have you home, man.”

“It’s good to be home.”

He’s surprised to find he means it.

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #cw chronic illness

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haoboutyou · 7 months ago

Text

foolish one (stop checking your mailbox) | joshua hong

fluff, slightly suggestive | 1154 words | some cursing

a/n: wifey @bluehoodiewoozi: "if you write me an encouraging boyfriend shua x burnt out uni student y/n fic, i'll be the happiest woman on earth" except I wrote none of that :D

The university has dedicated study rooms all around campus, providing a conducive space for students to catch up on their coursework, computer work, or reading. It’s a great place to comfortably work on thesis papers without the stuffy silence of the library, or the rowdiness of the campus courtyard. It is not, unfortunately, a good place to audibly express disappointment every 10 minutes.

Joshua can’t take it anymore. How many times does he have to watch you check your phone whenever a notification pops up, how many times does that hopeful look on your face morph into disappointment when it was just another push-ad from a shopping app?

He’s just about had it when you let out an audible sigh for the nth time, once again disrupting your supposedly productive study session. And so he bites the bullet, hoping that whatever it is that is distracting you from completing that dreaded thesis is worth all the sighing for.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Huh?” You look up from the laptop, annoyed that he distracted you just as you were about to concentrate.

Right on cue your phone lights up. He snatches the phone faster than you could reach for– it prompts a disgruntled “Shua no!” out of you. Joshua gives the notification a once over before he places the phone screen-up, crossing his arms.

“You can’t possibly be waiting for–” He squints at the screen, reading out the pop-up banner. “ ‘60% off your next coffee’– Oh… That’s a really good deal.” He looks back up at you, watching as you sink back into your seat at the announcement. “Anyways, you’re clearly not waiting for the coffee. Spill.”

A minute of silence passes as Joshua watches you gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing but unable to find the right words to convey your current dilemma.

“...It’s Lucas–“

“You’re still talking to him?!” His disrupted yell earns him multiple death stares from others in the study room.

You wince at his outburst, but you know it comes from a good place. Lucas, despite being known as the worst frat boy to come out of this university, is also the smoothest talker; somehow, he manages to get every girl on campus swooning at his feet. Joshua personally thinks he’s just a load of bullshit, that you could do better than that walking STD stick. Still, he sighs when he sees your downcast look, staring blankly ahead at your dimmed laptop screen.

“Y/n, he’s a player. You got a taste of his dick once and it was good, sure, but you didn’t mean anything to him. I’m serious!”

You hate the connotation that came with his words– it felt like he was calling you a whore. Your brows furrow deeper. You know he didn’t mean to, but it still sounds like that, and it still hurts.

He realises his mistake almost immediately because as soon as those words come out, he backpedals on them so fast.

“No wait, I– I didn’t mean–” He’s instantly shut down by you, cutting through him like a knife.

You avoid looking straight into Joshua’s eyes, fighting the magnetic pull towards his chocolate eyes. Your next words are soft enough that he has to strain his ears to pick them up. “He isn’t like that though. He said what we had was different! He said I was special, that–“

“That no other girl could compare to you? Y/n, he says that to everyone!” Joshua’s exasperated. His heart breaks a little when he spots how glassy your eyes have become, but he presses on, wanting to tell you the hard truth. “Do you know what he does back at the frat house? He marches around, boasting about how many he’s slept with and what they’re like in bed. He shares those stories like some kind of sick trophy. He’s a disgusting, sorry excuse of a man!”

Joshua leans forward across the table, engulfing your small hands with his. He rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs, trying to comfort you when notices silent tears running down your face.

“No…” You hiccup, trying to get your words across your sniffles. “I swear, I can change him!” Even you know how ridiculous you sound; there's no changing a fratboy so set in his ways like Lucas. You slump over your laptop, begrudgingly wallowing over your words. You sigh. It’s impossible. You’re just a hopeless romantic chasing after the affections of a man who gave you an ounce of attention.

“I really thought he was gonna be the one, Shua.”

“There, there. You could do so much better and you know it. Don’t be so foolish!”

“Like who?!” You can’t help but snap at him. You’re desperate, of course; trying to shield your already humiliated and broken heart from his harsh (albeit truthful) words.

His voice drops to a whisper.

“Like me?”

His grip on you hardens. There’s determination and endearment directed straight at you, that you’ve never noticed before, pouring through his eyes. He gulps; his biggest secret is out. The long-time crush he’s been harbouring on you is now public– to you, at least.

“I can treat you better.” He reaches out to wipe a tear from your cheek, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You sigh. You’re doing a lot of that today; it's becoming a bit pathetic. “Shua, I'm not in the mood for you joking–”

“I’m not! Hell, I’m already letting you wear my jacket!” He tries to be serious, gesturing to the oversized jacket he lent you earlier, that envelops you around your shoulders.

He heaves a sigh of relief when you let out a chuckle. His large hands find yours again. You feel yourself calming down, but your cheeks still heat up from his sudden proximity.

You cock your head to the side. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I mean–” You gesture to the space between you. “Before all this?”

“Because you looked so happy, and I was afraid of ruining it all.” A shy smile graces his face. “Let me make up for it, please?”

You hold your stare, making him wait in anticipation. Finally, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you reply.

“Buy me lunch, and I’ll think about it.”

“Lunch? Yeah, I can do that.” He can’t help but full-on grin at you. Standing up to gather his things, he extends a hand to pull you up. Ever the gentleman, you think.

“Lucas was pretty good in bed though. Think you can one-up that?” You joke.

Joshua pulls you into his chest, one arm wrapping around you while the other picks up your bag. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you an even better time later.”

“Later…?” Your voice trails as you let him whisk you away for lunch. He wiggles his brows at you, mischievous demeanour unveiling.

And so, your thesis remains incomplete yet another day.

#joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #hong jisoo #seventeen #svt #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #joshua #joshua hong #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚#˗ˏˋ avy! ˎˊ˗

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lalune9x · 3 months ago

Text

SCTIR Translation - Chapter 468: Even A Good Person (4)

Note: This chapter contains major spoilers for the China kidnapping arc. Additionally, understanding one of Yoojin's comments to Sung Hyunje in this chapter involves a fairly big spoiler for the Christmas Dungeon, which I've explained under the cut.

I think this chapter is very much worth reading, but those wary of spoilers may want to avoid it for now.

"Because I wanted to tell only Han Yoojin-gun." "…That you want us to part ways? That you’re leaving?" I asked. "You think too negatively."

Story context and chapter translation under the cut.

Story context: In the Christmas Dungeon based on the pre-regression world, Yoojin allowed himself to get possessed by the Crescent Moon. Using her power, he fought the others, including Sung Hyunje. Hyunje was really uhhh excited by that Yoojin and the prospect of having Yoojin seriously fight him, but that didn't exactly occur for reasons I won't spoil. Anyway, that's what Yoojin references in this chapter.

Also, I did my best to interpret the Chinese characters' names into authentically Chinese-sounding ones based on common CN to KR transliteration rules. So 황림 (Hwang Rim) = Huang Lin, and 초화운 (Cho Hwaun) = Chu Huoyun. I don't speak Chinese though, so please let me know if these names don't seem right.

---

Chapter 468: Even A Good Person (4)

"First of all…"

I swallowed dryly. The wind brushing against my back suddenly felt colder. It was already November, and the nights were getting quite chilly. When I had regressed, it had been the beginning of summer.

"How much do you know... and since when?"

Moon Hyuna was nowhere to be seen. There were no signs that she would appear either. She wasn’t the type to leave me behind for no reason, which meant that something must have happened to hold her up.

"…Damn it, were you enjoying yourself?"

The fact that they’d even prepared to keep Moon Hyuna away meant that, in the end…

"You must have made contact before today’s banquet, at minimum. So, you were just watching? Did you just want to see me get rejected?"

"I’ll say that I didn’t see anything," Sung Hyunje said, his gaze softening slightly. "I went up to the rooftop as planned, confirmed Han Yoojin-gun’s presence, then parted ways with Moon Hyuna and came down here. So I neither saw nor heard anything from that point onward. You didn’t agree to date, by any chance, did you?"

"…No."

I had expected to get rejected anyway, but I’d been thoroughly kicked to the curb.[1]

"More importantly, you deliberately came outside and took your eyes off me. Did you trust Chloe-ssi that much?"

Even though the distance from the rooftop was quite far, if something had gone wrong, he could have attacked Chloe immediately. But to casually walk inside and take the elevator down? No way. No matter how capable Sung Hyunje was, he didn’t have x-ray vision.

"I trusted Han Yoojin-gun."

"You kept your mouth shut before, but now you’re spewing a load of bullshit. Sorry, Gyeol. Let’s cover your ears for a moment."

When I tried to cover Gyeol's perked-up ears with my hands, he shook his head. I whispered, "Just for a second," and he pouted but reluctantly used his own front paws to cover his ear tips. The sight was so cute that some of the frustration inside me eased a little.

"I knew you were shameless," I said. "So yeah, fine, I guess I was an idiot for never doubting you despite knowing that. You handed over that information really damn fast—was it since then? Did you two meet that same day?"

It was possible. Sung Hyunje had no reason to report to me about meeting Chloe or anyone else. Even now, he hadn’t actually deceived me; he simply hadn’t told me. Maybe I should be grateful that he even came forward like this instead of keeping me completely in the dark.

And yet, I didn’t just feel disappointed—I was actually angry. Sung Hyunje had been really considerate towards me lately. Maybe that was why. It seemed I had fallen under the delusion that he would help me readily and share everything with me. Even though there was no reason for him to do so.

"Well, whatever." I exhaled a long breath. "I think I was too comfortable with you, Sung Hyunje-ssi. Getting this cold shower has sobered me up a bit."

Sung Hyunje only raised his eyebrows slightly without saying anything.

"If this was a decision you made out of necessity, I can understand. So please just tell me."

If the other side had offered him a way to completely break free from the Crescent Moon, I could understand why he went along with it. Honestly, if they said they could help me get my brother back and keep all my loved ones safe, I’d be tempted too.

"I thought you would catch me," Sung Hyunje said.

"What? Are you serious? And I only said I’d understand, not that I’d let it slide. If you get in my way, do you think I’d overlook it just because it’s you? I treat you well now because we’re on the same side. But if you were on the opposite side, I’d crush you first."

I wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly until I dealt with him. Really. Not only because of his abilities but because of how much he knew. Just thinking about it sent a chill down my spine.

Two S-ranks. Grace was on my ankle, and that damn Sung Hyunje knew that fact too. The distance to the lounge was quite far, but they’d all rush over immediately if I just set off a single bomb. Was Jason also on Chloe’s side? If I excluded Moon Hyuna, there were three or four of them.

I could share the double attack buff. Sung Hyunje knew that, too. Noah’s skill wasn’t usable yet. The cooldown period was long, given how potent it was. If we could use it, our victory would be practically guaranteed, but...

"Sung Hyunje-ssi," I started.

In order for me to catch him properly... fortunately, it happened to be nighttime, and the moon was hanging over us.

"Back then, I was quite lenient with you," I said.

"If you talk like that, how can I not get excited?"

"So come clean to me. What are your real intentions?"

"I did receive a proposal," Sung Hyunje admitted.

He pulled out a letter from his inventory. Both the stationary and envelope seemed to be dungeon byproducts.

"Before the banquet started. To be precise, just before Han Yoojin-gun came down."

The tension in my body slightly eased. If it happened around that time, I could understand why he didn’t tell me. There wasn’t much time, and rather than changing plans on the spot, it made sense to confirm Chloe’s intentions first. It might be easier to make a clear judgment if I probed Chloe without knowing anything beforehand.

"Then what about Hyuna-ssi?" I asked.

"Hunter Miller doesn’t know much about the situation either. She just had no reason to refuse," Sung Hyunje said. "She doesn't accept my requests if she doesn't feel like it," he added.

Because she was an S-rank Hunter too, even though he was her Guild Leader. It was the same with Yerim; even though she was a Haeyeon Guild member, Yoohyun couldn't order her around as he pleased.

Anyway, it seemed Evelyn had been the one tasked with keeping Moon Hyuna away.

"What do you mean she didn’t have a reason to refuse? She didn’t even know the situation," I said.

"Because if there was an incident, I’d be the one to take the blame as Guild Leader. Unfortunately, it seems they didn’t clash too violently. Or perhaps they moved to another location?"

So... he set the stage for Evelyn-ssi to freely provoke a fight with Moon Hyuna? I thought Hyuna-ssi disliked Evelyn-ssi one-sidedly, but maybe Evelyn was wary of Hyuna too? And what was that "unfortunately" about? Was he fanning the flames for them to fight?

"I’m not asking how you held Hyuna-ssi back. I’m asking why."

If he’d kept her away just to show me the letter, then I’d gladly welcome it. Show it to me. But instead of handing it over, Sung Hyunje put the letter back into his inventory. And then—

"….!"

Suddenly, my wrist was grabbed. The speed was too fast for my eyes to follow. He pulled and spun me half a turn as if we were dancing, moving me from the railing to the glass door. The little fairy dragon growled softly and Sung Hyunje released my wrist. The lamps set up on the railing shone from behind him, casting a long shadow that obscured his face.

"Because I wanted to tell only Han Yoojin-gun."

"…That you want us to part ways? That you’re leaving?" I asked.[2]

"You think too negatively."

"Then why don’t you act properly? Suddenly doing something like this without saying a word, what am I supposed to think? Tell me clearly, exactly what you want from me."

"Act selfishly," Sung Hyunje said in a voice without any inflection.

"…What?"

"Or how about wiping your mind clean?"

"…What the hell are you saying?"

Chloe, who had been standing a little distance away from us, frowned. If she had a similar personality to Director Song’s, then even if she disliked me, she wouldn’t stand by and let an F-rank be threatened by an S-rank. Ironically, she might protect me even from Sung Hyunje.

"I'm saying there are those kinds of urges.[3] It’s been a while since we returned from China," Sung Hyunje said. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile that looked like it had been drawn on. "I’ve been waiting all this time, you see. Waiting for something big to happen."

"I really have no idea what you mean."

"If I said it first, there’d be no meaning in it," he replied.

"…I genuinely don’t know what you want. Are you saying you’re waiting for me to do something?"

"Exactly."

The look in Sung Hyunje's eyes as he gazed down at me felt momentarily chilling. At the same time, I felt the urge to grab him by the collar and demand what the hell he wanted from me. Damn it, did he think he was some kind of ancient god? Dropping vague hints and waiting to see if I walked the path he wanted, praising me if I got it right?

"Why should I do what you want?"

"It’s not just me." Now his voice turned infuriatingly gentle. "It's what many people want."

"…I really want to hit you right now."

"I thought playing the role of the villain might not be a bad idea, if it was for that purpose. It might even be fun," Sung Hyunje said playfully, his attitude shifting completely from how it had been a moment before.

"Ah, you insane bastard."

I thought he’d changed, but no, he was still the same. Unpredictable, inscrutable, impossible to pin down. What did he want me to do in the first place, seriously? Did I annoy him in some way? I knew I had many shortcomings, but I’d worked hard. If he thought that wasn’t enough, despite all the hardship I went through, then damn it, just rip me open already.

"I may not understand the conversation, but please don't commit evil acts lightly," Chloe interjected with a serious expression. "Especially considering your position as the Sesung Guild Leader. The fallout would be far too great."

…To say something like that, was she really not with Park Hayul after all?

"By the way, Chloe-ssi. Do you know anything about my abduction to China?" I threw the question out vaguely. I didn’t expect her to give much of an answer.

"I am deeply sorry about that matter," Chloe said.

"…Excuse me?"

"Now this is unexpected," Sung Hyunje remarked, slightly taken aback, turning to look at Chloe.

She continued speaking calmly, as if she had never intended to hide anything in the first place.

"Officially, I came to deliver a letter to the Sesung Guild Leader. But personally, I also wanted to check on Director Han Yoojin’s condition."

"But you said you didn’t like me?"

"Personal feelings aside, Director Han Yoojin was still a victim."

"Are you admitting you had some connection to the kidnappers? Can I record this?" I asked.

"I wasn’t involved, but I didn’t put a stop to it either."

It seemed she felt guilty for knowing about it but doing nothing.

"I agreed that it was the solution with the least amount of harm. With Director Han Yoojin’s abduction, the military’s threat could be neutralized."

"…I’d like to hear more details," I said.

"Huang Lin made contact first."

…What? Well, I’d somewhat suspected it, but he really wasn’t on the military’s side.

"He warned that if the military gained full control over the Dokkaebi King, the standoff with the Murim Alliance would collapse completely. He said that would create issues. He also mentioned the potential for long-range portals to be used for invasions of other countries."

Thinking about it, it was terrifying. If undead Hunters were unleashed through long-range portals… Not to mention, there were many high-rank Hunters in China that were unknown to the public, so other countries wouldn’t even know where these high-rank undead were coming from.

"So they kidnapped me to draw in the Korean Hunters? Couldn’t they have just requested our cooperation?"

"That would have sparked an international conflict."

She wasn’t wrong. Since I’d been kidnapped, the Korean Hunters had been able to raise hell in China while everyone else turned a blind eye.

"Also, Director Han Yoojin's abduction was necessary to provide a plausible reason for the approach to Nosan Island. It would have been possible to carry out the plan to capture the Korean Hunters there."

"It was a success, but if it had failed, wouldn’t we have been the only ones sacrificed?"

"The Korean Hunters were stronger than anticipated. Originally, Huang Lin and some of his faction had planned to assist, but it turned out they weren’t needed."

…Is that why Huang Lin had just grabbed Chu Huoyun and left back then? Once the dokkaebis escaped and Yoon Yoon went berserk, his job was done?

"And you’re just telling me all this?"

"I was planning to inform you before I left the country, assuming your condition was okay. I also have a letter from Huang Lin. Would you like to receive it?" Chloe carefully watched my expression as she said this.

With a small sigh, I held out my hand. Honestly, Chloe telling me she disliked me had shocked me more than anything involving Huang Lin. Huang Lin was just a distant memory by now. Chloe pulled the letter from her inventory and handed it to me. I wondered what nonsense he had written, but put it in my inventory for the time being.

"So the conclusion is, kidnapping me was done with good intentions. Is that it?" I said.

"Of course, it was wrong," Chloe firmly stated. So then…

"Does that mean you’ve parted ways with Park Hayul’s mysterious noonim, whose name I still don’t know?"

"No."

…What? Seriously?

"I can't tell you any more details than this. If you want revenge, I understand. But I will resist." She bowed her head slightly, apologizing for the offense, and then turned to Sung Hyunje. "I will ask for your reply before I leave the country."

With that, Chloe turned, opened the glass door, and left. I felt even stranger than when the system message had appeared. Hearing that someone acted with good intentions but used twisted methods grated at my heart. It would have been easier if she had just been a bad person.

"If I may offer a piece of advice," Sung Hyunje said, turning his gaze to me. "Even good people can become enemies at any time."

"…I know. Even among those who cursed at me, I’m sure there were many good and kind people."

"And anyone trying to harm Han Yoojin-gun is an enemy, regardless of their intentions."

Was he really saying this right after he said he’d play the villain? I swallowed my question of whether that meant Sung Hyunje could be one of those people too.

---

Footnotes:

[1] The Korean word for "get rejected" (차이다) also means "to get dumped/broken up with". So yes, the ambiguity of whom Yoojin is so broken-hearted about is even stronger in Korean.

[2] "갈라서다 (to part ways)" is also used in the context of "to break up/divorce".

[3] It also sounds like he is saying "I mean that I also have that kind/those kinds of urge(s)." ("그런 충동도 있다는 거라네.")

#sctir #the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #my s class hunters #내가 키운 s급들 #novel translation #jinjae #edited to add footnotes 1-2

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fawfulydoo · 5 months ago

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I love your adult Dib design so much and I adore how it’s a love-letter to the early internet. Can you talk a little about him like… what you imagine for him lore wise? I can’t really articulate it right, just like… what do you imagine he’s up to? :3

Also, would you be comfortable with fan art of him with your credit? I’m sorry if this was,,/,,/,/, a loaded ask your art just means a lot to me and i appreciate it a lot :,) 🫶

AAAH YAY THANK YOU!!! And of course!! I have some ideas for what lead him to that point and what he'd currently up to. (AND YES FANART WOULD BE AWESOME!!!)

I imagine what happens to him over the years is that he begins to distance himself from his current situation and goes and finds people who actually want him around and appreciate his presence/have shared interests. I'd imagine he'd find people like this on internet forums. When he graduates highschool and finally gets to have a chance at restarting his reputation and having a fresh start at adulthood.

I'd imagine he starts out working some bullshit jobs that just get him by comfortably and not really anything in relation to science or anything as this is just like, REALLY boring to him. This would give him enough time to himself to indulge in his interest in paranormal studies and such. In the current day (to him) he's 22 and working as a bartender. I don't exactly know why I picked that job, but he enjoys it and he appreciates the tips. He finds working jobs completely separate to his interests is a lot better for him in the long run (very relatable to me as a neurodivergent person) and is overall VERY much happier and less stressed than he was as a child.

I would imagine at some point he'd probably pay ZIM a visit, as he sometimes wonders what he's up to. I thought of a little storyline in which they regain contact and it's a little different now, as it's like 10 years later, and highlights their differences in their perceptions of time. I don't really know if i'd actually write this though because idk what i'd really do with it.

That's about it though! If i think of anything else I'll add it later in a reblog. Ty again for the ask!!

#ask #adult dib

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fillinforlater · 2 years ago

Note

A mommy eunbi breeding fic, but a long one cause she wouldn’t just want to stop at just one, heheheheheh.

Eleven to One: Fulfilling Filling

Male Reader x Kang Hyewon, Kwon Eunbi

Length: 4922 words

Tags: rough sex, daddy kink, mommy kink, liquor play, threats and blackmail attempts, angry sex, dom/sub dynamic, master/slave play, pussy eating, curses and degradation, bend over, doggy, standing sex, denial to breed, slave!Hyewon, breeding kink, breed Eunbi, creampie, multiple orgasm, fucked silly, sex while sitting, riding, reverse cowgirl, tit play, tit sucking, ass eating, threesome, finger licking, Mommy!Eunbi

TW: rough sex, degradation, heavy dom/sub dynamics, impregnation

Inspiration: BREED EUNBI

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing. Good job, as always.

(A/N: 14 months since @dreamcatchers-husband dropped the request. Sorry for the long wait. I think three loads are enough for her?)

"Congratulations, Mr. Co-CEO."

Hyewon raises her champagne filled glass for a toast. Two glasses clink amongst delighted chatter, laughs, and general sounds of celebration. You return a kind smile before sending the expensive liquor down your throat in a swirl. You notice that Hyewon watches you intently in her professional, dark blue blazer. Suddenly, her hand is on your back and she pulls herself closer. A bit handsy for such a public setting, you think.

"And thank you for the filling, Daddy," Hyewon whispers, her ruby lips in a striking smirk.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Co-CEO," you respond and secretly graze her belly. It's a bit brazen, given that you are still in front of many employees and lawyers who helped to make this insane merger possible. They can feel the money already pouring in, especially because the conglomerate of your company and Hyewons is not a monopoly under korean law—

Your phone rings. Eunbi's number pops up on screen.

"Excuse me for a moment, I must take this call. Cheers everyone! Please enjoy yourselves."

You step out for a moment and answer the phone with a curious hum.

"Eunbi? What's up?"

"I know it, all of it."

Eunbi’s voice is demanding, yet something soft and fragile makes her seem like she can't hold herself back. Time for you to figure out why she is so on fire.

"You know what? I think I never told you the details of how to restructure two companies for a fitting merger," you chuckle and imagine Eunbi rolling her eyes, her fingers trembling as she tightly clenches her phone.

"Stop that bullshit right now. I know that you filled her."

You were stunned and moved further away and into a private room.

"Eunbi, let me explain..."

"Save it. How could you do this to Yujin?" she says upset. You're smarter than that. This blame game is something you’re quite familiar with. Ignore the Yujin stuff for a minute and decipher Eunbi’s tone.

"You're not mad about that… you're upset because you’re not the first, right?”

"D-don't flatter yourself, asshole," Eunbi quickly shouts. You hit the spot, now it's time to poke her until she falters.

"You're lying to yourself, Eunbi. They all call you the M-word, but you're not the one becoming an actual mother,” you counter, quickly slipping back into CEO mode. You know how to turn this on her.

"IZ*ONE… your precious IZ*ONE-girls. You miss them all, don't you? You miss not having a group around you. Sure you've done well enough as a soloist, and you have a dog who is always on your side. But let’s be honest, who doesn't?

“No, it's not the same, is it? Because it doesn’t matter; it can never change the fact that Yujin, Minju, Hyewon, Chaewon—they aren't really your children."

Still no response from her, just the continuous heavy breathing from the other side of the speaker. Now you're really poking an angry bull that is ready to pierce you with its horns. But you're not scared of horns or bulls. Otherwise you would not be atop the food chain right now.

"A Mommy with no children, ts, don't make me laugh. You act concerned for Yujin, but it's just a front. Face it, Eunbi: with or without IZ*ONE, you're not even close to being a Mommy."

You might be right, but Eunbi wasn't a leader for nothing. She is still fearless, willing to fight back even as you wrestle her down in your heated exchange.

"My place or I am spilling everything to Yujin. I know you haven't told her yet. If you aren't here in the next 20 minutes, you can kiss your merger goodbye."

"Do you think that makes me scared," you respond coldly, "You can't force me to do anything. If you want to be a real Mommy, you gotta take a different approach."

Eunbi was backed in a corner and bested. She wasn’t even bluffing, but if you weren't afraid of the affair with Hyewon and the somewhat questionable merger becoming public, she had nothing on you. No final tricks up her sleeve, nothing she could use to get what she wants. Unless, her approach should have been different from the start.

"Baby,.please… Mommy needs you."

Her tone becomes soft, motherly, and needy. Much more to your liking.

"Mommy needs me, aw~" you mock her tone yet won't hesitate in giving her what she so desires. "Mommy is going to get me. But it's on my terms. Frankly, I have something better to do right now. Wait for me till the end of the week, maybe I'll be free then."

Eunbi whines at the other end of the line. Inaudible phrases and sounds of disagreement come through the speaker but they are not even touching the surface of your resolve. You'll stay and celebrate.

You focus your mind on the task—or someone at hand. You need to celebrate the merger properly. Go back into the office room and gain everyone's attention by clearing your throat.

"I hate to cut things short, but we'll continue the celebrations later tonight at dinner. Miss Kang and I need to discuss some next steps going forward; if you could all give us the room," you say smoothly, a professional, genuine seeming smile on your lips.

Hyewon looks puzzled for a second, but after exchanging a couple of glances with her, she adds even smoother than you did:

"I already rented a hotel further down the street with a banquet and excellent wine. We'll follow after you, just make sure to leave something for us."

No further complaints, men and women in suits leave the office and their chatter fades away quickly. You lock the door behind them and Hyewon pushes a button instantly blackening out the windows to the room.

You look at Hyewon with lust. She is carrying your child, she has become fully bound to you, an unbreakable connection that glues companies together, but also a slave to her Master

"Hyewon, I need to fucking pound you in my office,” you emphasize and step in front of her.

"Yes, Daddy," Hyewon moans and drops her dress pants as she bends over, "Fuck your slut on your table. Make sure she is your breeding cow."

With a hand on her back you press Hyewon's upper body onto the stacks of paper and certificates. A half-filled glass with champagne tumbles to the floor, the other is saved by Hyewon who gasps at your fingers kneading her bare ass.

You admire the sight, feel the softness of her ass. It belongs to you. Firm, smooth, you can’t help but stick your face on it in wanton desire. Further below is the slit that you so clearly marked with repetitive, rough thrusts and cream filling. Before you do it again, you need a taste.

"I'm hungry. Daddy shouldn't go hungry, right?"

You don't give Hyewon time to respond as you already access her holes and take a swipe of her pussy with your tongue. It's incredible that she is still this tight, her walls pressing down on your tongue as you take your licking session deeper for a minute. After hours and hours of breeding sessions over the last month, your big cock stretched Hyewon out good, but her insides are still godly tight.

Even better: it’s all yours.

You probably fucked Hyewon ten times more than you did Yujin over the last couple of weeks. Luckily you don't have to concern yourself with this now. Yujin is still occupied with shooting new episodes for her group. There is no reservation, neither in your mind or your heart thus you give Hyewon a firm smack and nibble on her clit.

"Daddy, fuck! Keep eating me, I am just a whore for you and your hunger. Oh shit, Master, give me more, please!"

"You're just a slut for your Master," you confirm her eager statement. You lips place kisses on where her pussy lips are exceptionally sensitive, and her clit is subject to constant teasing of your wet tongue. Your fingers dig into her pillowy ass, another tiny puzzle piece to make Hyewon cum.

"Master, fuck! Your tongue is so good, your mouth, I don't de-deserve this!

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm—"

You growl. Tug on her hair as you get up. Her face winces near yours, your fingers drag over her labia, but it’s purposefully restrained and not enough to push her over the edge.

"You're right, you don't. Why the fuck am I exhausting my energy in your pleasure? Doesn't Master's pleasure take priority? Whose pleasure is the only one that matters?"

Spit in her face. Hyewon's mouth barely produces a real word in between her never ending output of mewls and whines. You rub your spit over her cheeks and then to her mouth.

"M-Master..."

"Good whore," you say dryly, threatening without a threat. Reach for the not-broken glass and guide it to Hyewon's lips. "Open up."

The remaining champagne falls down Hyewon's throat as you force her head back to the point she can look up at you. She struggles with the punch of the liquor and its fizziness, yet you still reward her by drooling on her face.

"Really good whore."

"Thank you, Master."

Arms wrap around Hyewon's body, you squeeze her waist and chest tightly, fingers delicately placed on her throat. Eyes still locked, you firmly press your erection against Hyewon's butt, two layers of designer fabric between leaving her squirm in need and in pleasure.

"You want this, huh?" you growl, fingers ridding Hyewon of her proper breath.

"Y-yes, Master."

She struggles to keep eye contact, her nostrils widen and narrow rapidly in search of air. Spit on her again, unamused. Poor thing, it's not even her fault that Eunbi decided to be such a blackmailing bitch tonight. But this is what Hyewon signed up for. Literally.

"I'll give it to you, but first—"

You pull out your phone and let Hyewon breathe again. Open the camera and press it in her hand, before pressing on her throat again.

"Film yourself. Tell your dear leader what you think of her being so greedy, needy, and bitchy about being bred. Do you think Eunbi deserves to be filled like you?"

"Master… a recording? Wh-what if someone finds it? I…" Hyewon hesitates, something you despised; disobedience, fear, caution.

"Do you think Eunbi will expose you?” you growl in fury. “Do you trust her this little? Even worse, why do you disobey me?"

Another spit in her face. The saliva on her face makes the celebratory make up run down her features from all sides in falls of pink, red and black. To say that she is a mess would be an understatement. Hyewon looks down right filthy.

"Why do you still disobey me, your Master? You’ve been bred, now show me your gratitude!"

You roar and rip her outfit. You don't care about messing up your extravagant ten thousand dollar carpet, taking another glass of champagne and pouring it down her body. The need to suck her not yet filled, but still great tits overcomes you.

"Master, I'm sorry! I'll do as you say, ah!"

Bite her nipple, before more of the liquor touches your tongue. These things never come easy. It's always a struggle, the taming, then keeping them down. You’ve been through this enough times with her, with Yujin. Hopefully your future endeavors will be more relaxed, or else you have to change your strategy.

"Then fucking do it, or I'll never fuck you again. My God, I thought we got over this."

Hyewon's entire arm shakes as she tries to focus the phone's camera on her. In the meantime, your mouth moves down to her belly button and you suck all around it. Now Hyewon has not only her moaning, drooling, tearfilled face on video, but also her pink areolae and hard nipples atop voluptuous breasts.

You wait for the right moment as Hyewon struggles to keep her arm stable to record the message for her Unnie. She doesn’t deserve any easy out to finish this mission, so you strike at her pussy once more. Savor the juices on your fingers, before you plunge them into her.

"Eunbi… I've been b-bred, by Master a-and…"

Lick.

"Ah, I-I... Hng!"

Lick again and Hyewon almost drops the phone. You'd shout at her for the disobedience, but this is actually amusing.

"Go on."

"I-I... I'm his de-devout breeding cow and—ah, fuck!"

You begin to roughly suck at her clit. Hyewon starts to cry and wail in pleasure. Rouge, spit, tears and sweat make her face the penultimate canvas of messiness. Only needs some streaks of white on it.

"He-he is the best!" Hyewon screams out as you imagine finishing on her face to make it the perfect masterpiece to hang in a museum, "How d-dare you be a b-b-bitch to him, ah, how dare you— fuck, Master, I'm going to c-cum!"

"Don't, or you'll regret it!" You stop your tongue movement and only knead Hyewon thighs in a slow, annoyingly unsatisfying pattern.

"U-Unnie, you have n-no right to be bred. You're not a cow, and not a Mo-Mommy! Ah, fuck!"

Two fingers scissor their way into Hyewon's core and spread her pink walls with no regard to their natural width. The woman tumbles and almost falls to the ground, the dress pants still wrapped around her ankles. You catch her with a strong hand and slowly bend her over again.

"I think this message will do. Now send!”

Press her back down to emphasize your words, as if the rod poking her core isn’t enough.

“Your Master will rail you in this office, on every fucking surface. You're my little sex slut slave, aren't you? Dirty bitch!"

"Y-Yes, Master, I'm so-sorry for being so–"

You pin Hyewon harder to the desk hard and your quickly freed, painfully hard shaft glides into this familiar cavern full of warmth, eager to milk you dry. Her walls are ready, but Hyewon's mind is not. Fuck it, fuck her. Your pelvis hits Hyewon's ass with such force, it sounds like you're whipping it.

"Ma-Master, I—" Hyewon screams, her mind spinning out of reach for her to produce anymore words. It's all in vain, she is back to being the breeding cow, but this time her Master really treats her just like an object, a—

"Shut up, slave! Just moan, cry, whimper and make yourself useful with your body!"

You lift up one of Hyewon's legs and place it onto the desk. At this angle, each time you shove your cock into her, the entire wooden structure shakes and cracks. Pens and lamps rain down from the surface, your fucking is an unstoppable earthquake to these tiny objects.

Hyewon's juice becomes creamy, her voice a tad bit hoarse after countless screams. The orgasms you fuck into her soft pink hole make her seem more like an engaging fleshlight than a serious business woman. Press said fleshlight against a wall, her solid nubs thus feel the cold surface. Hyewon tenses up, her cunt grips but it can’t stop you. Spear her open and reach deeper thanks to the new standing position. Leave marks of your teeth on her shoulder.

As you continue to hammer into Hyewon, making her cry and scream profanities, someone decides to hammer the door. With wide open eyes of lust and rage you stare at the booming metal. The person on the other side does not show signs of stopping, another wave of hard knocks. What if someone heard you? Did you underestimate Hyewon's voice and the repetitive slaps of skin on skin?

Or is it what you are hoping for?

"Come on in, Eunbi."

You smirk and Hyewon's eyes widen. You know that she hates being seen like this, especially by her beloved Unnie. Fortuna is ever in your favor. An equally abashed, angry, nervous and embarrassed woman pushes open the door. Before Hyewon can scream at the sight of her friend, you firmly shut her mouth with a palm.

"Do you mind closing the door?" you say with a smug grin at an out of breath Eunbi. It looks like she doesn't want to comply, so you have to take different measures.

Grab Hyewon's waist, dig your fingers deep into the skin to form red marks, and turn her towards Eunbi. She wants to free herself but her struggle urges you to fuck into her again. Hyewon's resolve drops immediately and she cums almost instantaneously.

"N-no, U-Unnie, don't look, ah!"

"You better look at her, Eunbi! This could be you, but I bet you think you're better than this breeding cow. I don't see it. You lie to yourself, to me, and now you hesitate. Reminds me more of this bitch than a Mommy Mommy."

You're shouting stops as do your thrusts. Hyewon goes limp in your grasp and you let her drop to the floor like a disregarded sex toy. She searches for air, but more importantly, your cum. This time, you did not fill her pussy. There is nothing she can push back with her slutty digits.

"Ma-Master, please."

"You had enough already. I bred you constantly for an entire month. I bet you're pregnant already. Now, don't forget your fucking place, slave."

Hyewon looks down in shame.

"Yes Master..."

You focus all your attention on Eunbi now. She is where things get interesting, where your feelings and imaginations go wild. Sex toys and brats are great, but this older woman has a vastly different aura.

"Well,” you gently say, “what a time to come barging into my office. What is it that you want?"

"I want... I want..."

Eunbi stands in place, her feet unstable. She is swaying from side to side, unable to keep eye contact with you. She can't stand to look at Hyewon, but she is also unable to look away from the mess that you made her friend.

"Say it out loud, or I'm gone," you say with sigh, the tone of your voice more annoyed than threatening. "I'm getting soft at such hesitance."

"I want... you t-to breed me."

You smirk and sit down on your deluxe couch. This is usually the part where you make them drop to their knees and beg for your cock. They make compromises and say things they wouldn't have if you didn’t make them addicted to your cock. At least it worked like that with Hyewon, but Eunbi is so different. She already gains confidence, her steps more stable, her features soft, her body motherly.

"Baby,” she simply whispers and you're already in her spell, “Mommy wants you bad. Mommy wants to be filled, to be bred and to bear your children.

“Won't you let Mommy be your slut?" she adds seductively.

"Ts, are you really a Mommy? I think you need me to do this," you slyly respond and put your hands on Eunbi's waist. You falsely assumed her approach had ended and that her resolve would crumble, but she quickly reaches for your shoulders, trapping you underneath her perfect frame.

"I know you want to cum in Mommy's pussy, I know you want to pump children into me. And I also know that you want Mommy to be a slut. But you have to ask me before you get it. Understood?"

You don't respond to her. To see what she will do next is just too intriguing to pass off. Like a tense, sexual thriller, you don’t want to know the end yet.

“Don’t you want to make me a real Mommy? Say it, ask for it. My body is right here.”

"I don't have to ask for anything,” you say nonchalantly. “You're already here. In fact, maybe I'll breed all IZ*ONE girls before you. Hyewon, give Master a kiss."

Eunbi rolls her eyes and breaks eye contact to stare Hyewon down.

"Hye, don't listen to him. He has nothing on you and he definitely has nothing on me."

To your delight however, Hyewon does not hesitate this time. She gets off the floor, her knees still soft like warm butter from the rough pounding you gave her, and wobbles to the couch. She kneels next to you on the couch and takes your hand to kiss it carefully. Eunbi mewls in shock.

"Nothing on you, I see," you hum with a smirk. "Eunbi, if you're going to be a part of this I can't have you thinking that you can oppose me like this. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't smitten by you, but a good mother bearing my children needs to know her place in my domestic bliss."

With Eunbi's eyes in shock and awe, you put two fingers into Hyewon's mouth and make her slobber all over them. You watch her watch the woman become soft, weak like an inexperienced virgin. A virgin whose need to be bred excels all her other desires and logical needs. Will Eunbi go down the same way as Hyewon?

"You want to be their Mommy?" you suddenly whisper into Eunbi's ear as Hyewon willingly chokes on your fingers.

"Y-yes, of course."

"Then admit it: you don't need to oppose me, to trump me, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Good."

Her fate seems sealed. Just another toy in your repertoire, with huge tits and the desire to have cum inside her cunt all the time. You’re almost disappointed, but Eunbi’s final ace puts everything upside down.

"If-if you breed mommy,” she slowly says, “I'll bring you Chaewon."

Hyewon is too engrossed by her Master to be shocked. Did you hear that correctly? Eunbi, the mother hen, protector of her IZ*ONE children, would serve Chaewon up on a platter to you?

"I don’t know if you have met her yet, but Chaewon definitely does not like you and people like you. The way you are, you cannot reach her, trust me. But I swear, I’ll do everything to make her yours. Chaewon can be headstrong, but she's a good girl—and now you can be a good boy for mommy, right?”

Her spell leaves you stunned for a second. New information is being presented to you like this. On top of it, a very questionable deal, the kind of deal you only strike in a dark room, no eyes to see, no ears to pry. Eunbi is something else.

"Chaewon, can she really be turned?" you ask, with the last shreds of doubt and retrieve your wet digits from Hyewon's lips.

"Am I their Mommy, or not?"

"I think you are, Mommy."

"Then come and breed Mommy."

You take a deep breath and watch Eunbi slowly open her blouse to free her bra covered bosom. The enormous breasts bounce as she continues to undress herself. Your need gets the better of you.

"Mommy," you whine. It’s the same cry from your first meeting. You’re the boy again, humble and small to no one but Kwon fucking Eunbi who smiles victoriously. She is the winner of this square off, yet still presents a feast before you as if you were the one who won.

"Mommy, please..."

"Open wide~" Eunbi giggles and presses her bare breasts into your face. Blinded by the massiveness of her tits and too engaged in sucking and licking them, you don't notice Eunbi ridding herself of her pants until something damp rests on the head of your shaft.

"Good to see that you still like them. I know that the other girls have nice boobs as well.

"But none compare to Mommy's. Isn't that right, hm~?"

You're inclined to agree with her but not only her tits, also her wet panties rubbing over your semi-hard shaft leave you speechless. Eunbi continues her sweet hums.

"Baby, you're so powerful, so aggressive and calculating…but that can be a lot, right? So you'll be good, relax and let Mommy take care of you.”

She disconnects her tits from your face to see you nod, greedy and needy for more of her soft pillows, but equally desperate to pierce her open and watch her wring you dry.

"Don't hold back," Eunbi moans and pulls her panties to the side. "Relax and cum, cum many times in Mommy's pussy."

"Fuck, Mommy!"

"Ma-Master," Hyewon whines from the side, but Eunbi puts a finger on her lips.

"I know you're needy, Hye, but this—"

Eunbi sinks on your cock, her pussy suddenly filled with what she was craving for for hours. She throws her head back and shouts the rest of her sentence skyward.

"—is for me, for my children."

"Oh fuck, Mommy," you exclaim, but Eunbi shushes you like she did with Hyewon.

"That's right baby, fuck Mommy hard. Fill me up as much as you want. Oh baby, once I'm pregnant, my boobs will get even bigger and they will swell with milk. Would you like that baby? To suck on Mommy's tits and drink my milk? I know you want it so you need to make sure I'm pregnant, breed me, breed Mommy!”

Your hips get a mind of their own. They’re thrusting up, without rhythm, but Eunbi adjusts her rhythm of bouncing on you to make her pussy suck you in with no disconnection. Meanwhile your lips search for her large nipples and the pink areola around it. You begin to bite it, suck it, imagining the milk coming out already.

"I can feel you trembling, fuck, baby," Eunbi says and holds onto your shoulders for stability. "Cum in me, make me cum, but please cum, oh fuck!"

Eunbi wets the couch in a sudden, messy orgasm. Her squirts of warm juice make you lose control. That fucking thing, control, always in your grasp. But with Mommy, you lose it for a sweet, sweet moment. You pump your fertile batter into Eunbi and temporarily join her in deep moans.

"More, more!" Eunbi screams and continues to bounce.

"Mo-Mommy, Master," Hyewon whines, three fingers deeply penetrating her cunt.

"Baby girl~" Eunbi moans and reaches for Hyewon's hair. "Go lick Mommy's ass. I know you like that, filthy slut."

Hyewon's already red cheeks begin to burn. She is too embarrassed to look at you, probably hoping you forget what Eunbi just said. But you will make sure to remember this and try it on her soon. She gets on her knees behind Eunbi's ass and the Mommy immediately begins to groan in satisfaction.

"Fuck, you're even tighter, Mommy," you groan in a mix of pain and bliss, the actions of Hyewon’s tongue immediately showing results.

"Her tongue is amazing, almost the best," Eunbi moans happily, her head still thrown back. You reach for her breasts, fondling the soft flesh to make your impending softness go away.

"How long until you get hard again, baby?"

"Different question Mommy: when will I get soft?" you respond with finesse and thrust upwards. "I think I can easily go for another round.”

"Then cum!" Eunbi shouts and pulls you into hug while fucking you with unmatched speed. The ripple of her thighs mirrors the ripples of your cock as you lose the ability to control your own orgasm. Let it go, it's an unrivaled feeling, as if a billion fireworks exploded in the most primal part of your brain. Eunbi made you skip the phases of overstimulation and recovery with her insane body. All features, inside or outside, are made to make you breed her.

"Mommy, Mommy, fuck, you're so tight!"

"Give me everything, e-every drop!"

She milks you, her hips still not stopping to pump as you dump more of your seed into her. From in between your legs, you hear a faint disappointed sigh. Hyewon, her tongue still deep in Eunbi's ass, is unfilled, while her Unnie goes for another load.

"You feel so good," Eunbi groans, eyes closed, fingers deep in Hyewon's hair to keep her steady. "I'm going to get pregnant, fuck yes!"

You shouldn't be able to do anything anymore. At this point, the limit of what a man can do should be reached. Countless of loads in Hyewon over the course of weeks, first her pussy, now Eunbis. It does not seem to stop, Mommy does not want to stop. Through heat and climax she fucks you silly.

Suck on her titties. That could have been an order from her, maybe it was, but you do it either way anyway. The numb tips of your fingers try to hold onto Eunbi's waist but she is too fast. You slip over her hips and onto the couch, unable to push her off if you want to.

"I know you can give me more, more cum, more children," Eunbi pants and pulls out your dazed head from her garden of melons to give you a sloppy kiss with too much tongue and too little oxygen. Her cunt gives you a final squeeze before your body raises the white flag.

"Mommy, I can't, I'm gonna—"

In a surprising twist, your balls hit Hyewon's chin as she sneakily went away from eating Eunbi's ass to licking tiny white droplets from the barely leaking slit. You got to hold on to this memory of your sack crazing her face as well. The excuse and the way you will punish her were neatly presented to you tonight.

But as you flood Eunbi's womb and sent her to motherly heaven with a perfectly timed, loud orgasm, who gives a shit if slaves defy masters and if Mommies break masters. Breed—the rest comes later.

#kpop smut #male reader insert #female idol smut #girl group smut #izone smut #eunbi smut #hyewon smut

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fandomfluffandfuck · 4 months ago

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I may have been reading a bit too much omegaverse but I stumbled upon your stuff on ao3 and uh now it’s not getting out of my head so I’m here

may I request omega!Steve + alpha!Bucky having a sparring session that escalates beautifully?

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Also, before we get into it, I semi-recently wrote another lil thing here on Tumblr about Steve and Bucky sparring that you might want to check out, although that prompt fill is much, much angsty-er and not omegaverse specific.

And, lmao, that's fair. I haven't been thinking a lot about omegaverse recently, but every time I am on my omegaverse bullshit I am on it and into it.

And I was really thinking about what I could do with sparring and omegaverse and smut, reading your prompt, but then... I had a thought: omegaverse, fighting not sparring, and something similar to this iconic scene from Captain American: The Winter Soldier.

Then, things got angsty. I'm sorry, lmao. I didn't mean for it to happen! It just did.

So, consider the idea that Steve and Bucky were bonded mates before Bucky fell and "died" during the war. Bucky is Steve's alpha; Steve is Bucky's omega. Yet, when Steve wakes up in the modern world, not only has history been rewritten to say that Captain America was an alpha but, also, his relationship with Bucky has been erased. It had to be because if it weren't, that would mean that either (a) they would have to claim that Steve and Bucky were an alpha-alpha couple which they don't want to do because that'd make them queer and that's not a good propaganda pawn or (b) they would have to claim that Bucky was the omega, swapping Steve and Bucky's designations which is... plausible... but, that would mean admitting that omegas went to war and, that, again, is unpopular and not good propaganda. So, they just destroyed their relationship entirely and reassigned Steve's designation.

Steve isn't sure how to feel about his life being eroded like that. His relationship; his very, very strong feelings about what society tells omegas, especially omega men, they can or can't do; his history; his understanding. But, as fucking confused as he is about all that, warring with himself and trying to figure out where he stands, it is easier to let it be. Without his bonded mate--really, with having just lost his bonded mate according to his body, that doesn't know it's been seventy years, it thinks it's been just a handful of weeks since Bucky "died", his mating cycles haven't started to try and re-calibrate, triggering themselves to get back on tracks. Bucky was the one his heats were synced to. His grief puts a halt to his regular cycles for now anyway. Besides, the suppressants that exist nowadays are so much better than those from Steve's time.

So, yeah, it's much easier to let the world think he is an alpha, using scent-blocking deodorant and body wash and all that, letting people believe that it's just the chivalrous thing Captain America would, of course, do because his alpha scent is so fucking strong, if he didn't, he'd have a multiple-block line of omegas trailing after him throughout New York City.

They don't know the truth.

No one really does. There are just one or two high-security clearance people at S.H.I.E.L.D. in medical that know because they're synthesizing an extra strong heat suppressant for when Steve's body does decide it will try to realign itself without his mate. The secret needs to be kept.

However.

That all fucking changes in the blink of an eye when, finally, fucking finally Sam, Nat, and Steve track down the Winter Soldier, or rather, the soldier tracks them down to a rundown metropolitan area, all empty warehouses, junk cars, and beat up loading docks. They're running (or flying, in Sam's case) through cracked concrete and warped metal, swearing they see the soldier around every corner and hearing him, too. Their coms are haunted by whispers of each of them believing to have heard his footsteps just ahead, the sound of his arm recalibrating just over their shoulder, his weapon cocking behind them, or the eerie, all-around them sound of his breath through his mask, filtered and almost Darth-Vader-esque (Steve knows that reference, thank you, Sam).

It's hours of a wild chase, running in circles.

A death spiral.

Until...

Steve chokes on his own spit, sweating through his stolen museum uniform, as he's rushed from behind.

He's hit.

There's a nanosecond of stunned shock before he registers what's happening--it's the muzzle of a gun shoved into his back unforgivingly and trying to throw him to the ground with the impact. Steve bends under the weight but throws his own mass to the side, not letting himself get pinned to the ground and effectively evading the heavy gun pressed against him. He's lucky that the soldier doesn't just shoot a hole through him.

As he rolls away from the impact. His back stings with hot, vicious pain. He slams his shield to the side and CLANG! rings the dinner bell. Metal on metal. The large, bulky machine gun the soldier is carrying clashing with his vibranium shield. The vibration of the hit rattles Steve's teeth in his jaw. He won't let himself be stunned again, though.

So, he throws more of his mass behind his shield when he gets both feet on the ground and strips the soldier of his biggest gun. But not before he fires off a handful of shots against his shield at point-blank range. The POP, POP, POP of the gun is so loud Steve is momentarily deafened, his ears ringing so badly that there's no sound at all. The heat of the gunpowder combusting radiates through Steve's shield back into his body--he can feel it in his arms. His heart races. The combustion is all he can smell. He doesn't need hearing or smell, though. Not when he's so close. He doesn't mind being burned alive, either. Not in his frantic state of mind. He's right fucking here. This is the closest they've come. They need to make this happen. And they need it now. So, he can take it.

He has to.

Another shove and the soldier loses his grip entirely. The big, heavy gun skids across the ground, scraped up and scratched on the concrete before finally slowing to stillness impressively far away from them. Already, though, the soldier is moving to grab another.

Steve needs to beat him to the punch. Brute force.

And so, he has no choice but to swing the shield away, leaving himself open to be hit, but sacrificing safety to hold onto the muzzle of the next much smaller handgun the soldier rips out of its holster.

Steve can't let him have it.

They struggle in the overcast, humid weather.

Strength-to-strength.

Hand-to-hand.

Breath-for-breath.

They're shockingly on par with each other, even as the soldier's arm recalibrates with a mechanical war cry, whining sharply through the ringing in Steve's ears. But ultimately, the handgun goes flying, too. Landing on the magazine, jostling it, and making it pop off in a random direction. It doesn't hit either of them. Steve doesn't hear Sam or Natasha close by either, so they're safe for now. He focuses on the fight he has in front of him, trusting they'll keep themselves out of harms way as best they can.

The gun just goes off once and then slides across the ground just as the other one had. The dragging sound of it is sickening like nails on a chalkboard. Steve wants to wince but can't risk it. His eyes have never been more goddamn open.

The soldier has a knife next. Not another gun.

Steve, through his exerted panting, lets out something of a sigh of relief, at least that shit can't make as much terrible, sharp fucking noise. It's also, y'know, good that the threat of having holes shot through him isn't as pressing. A knife is still bad, but he can work with a knife. He can.

He will.

Steve backs up, giving himself room to play. Both side-stepping for real and faux rushing in, Steve blocks every stab, cut, and swing the soldier throws his way, forcing him to make moves he wouldn't if he weren't brawling with Steve.

With more and more missed hits, Steve can see he's getting frustrated. He isn't tiring out because Steve isn't tired out. Not yet. He can do this all day. But the soldier is getting angry--it's the only flash of emotion he's seen on his face. Granted, he's never seen this much of his face before with his goggles gone. His mask is still firmly in place, though. Only his eyes are exposed--especially his eyebrows are exposed, 'cause they're so dark and expressive, furrowing in aggravation with what must be a vicious snarl.

The next thrown stabs are reckless. He's leaving himself open. Steve takes the window he's giving, exploiting it and using it to his advantage. Punching in.

Steve manages to get the knife away from him, too, but not before the soldier strips him of his shield entirely. It rattles against the ground like a coin dropped, rolling around its rim with an obnoxious clang!-groooooiinng-roooooiing-ooooooiinnnng-rnnnnng-rrrrrnnnng.

They're fists to fists then.

It could only be more vulnerable if they were bare knuckles to bare knuckes. That'd suck worse. The soldiers metal arm could surely best his flesh and bone to a bloody pulp easier than Steve could fuck over his metal architecture.

It's a rushing, messy blur of body-weight-thrown-behind-them punches and knee-sweeping kicks, getting knocked down and getting up, rolling and turning and tucking. At some fucking point, Steve's face down on the floor, fist thrown out into nothing but concrete, and he's gasping through his gritted teeth. His ribs hurt. He sees fucking red but it washes out, running pink and then clear like a bloody wound rinsed clean behind a faucet, as soon as he feels the soldier's organic arm wrap around his throat like a boa constrictor.

Shit.

Steve opens his mouth, gasping, not through his teeth this time. He fights that much harder. Motherfucker.

He twists like an alligator in a death roll, except he's not holding onto prey. He is the prey, and he desperately needs not to be. In the soldier's grasp, he lifts his leg and kicks it back hard. The soldier barely grunts, and instead of being deterred by his thrashing and kicking, he hauls Steve's body back as if he weighs nothing at all.

Steve twists harder and harder and harder and ends up with his nose in the soldier's armpit, his neck twisted and strained harshly to the side, tendons screaming at him. His vision is just starting to go fuzzy at the edges without oxygen, getting choked by the soldier so intensely, when--

Steve's choppy, barely successful inhale that fights to happen under the instinctive need for air, his lungs spasming and chest heaving even while his brain knows he won't find any oxygen--that inhale, it brings in the barest hint of a devastingly familiar scent.

Bucky.

The scent that's wafting off of the soldier's underarms is undeniably alpha, and it's choked with the acrid scent of distress and exhaustion. But, deeper, beneath that unpleasant, unwashed scent, it's just... that's... it's-! That's the smell of his alpha. Seventy years long dead. His alpha.

His alpha smells like sweet tobacco and fragrant cigarettes and summer sweat and well-loved leather and deep, old woods. His alpha smells like home. His alpha smells like himself. Bucky. His alpha used to smell, most of the time, like Steve. They were always all over each other, of course.

Steve can't tell if the soldier smells like him. For one, he's always slathered in scent blockers, so he's not even sure what he smells like without them anymore. And for another, the moment is there and then gone, so he doesn't get more than a single, earth-shattering whiff.

It's a faint whiff, even though the soldier's smell is so strong, but Steve knows what he fucking smelled.

He knows the truth.

His body knows the truth, dropping limp beneath Bucky, reacting so viscerally to his alpha. All the fight drops out of him.

Alpha.

His body screams for his alpha.

Steve doesn't even fucking do anything, he can't. His hindbrain works a million times faster than his conscious, logical brain. He folds to his alpha because that's what his innermost omega demands. That's what it wants. That's what it needs.

Bucky.

He needs Bucky.

He needs his alpha.

He misses his alpha so fucking much.

Steve whimpers, the call of his mate's designation right there on his lips, "a-alpha," but it dies before he can get it out. He doesn't have the air for it.

And in a fucking flash, before he's even processed what's happening in his logical brain, he's hard. His body and hindbrain are working overtime to push him. Hitting hyperdrive. He's wet. He's gutted with the sudden onslaught of heat rushing into him.

Heat.

Steve is on the cusp of spilling over like a little Dixie cup beneath a pouring, rushing faucet.

Pheromones. Fever. Slick. Cramps.

Heat.

He's tripping.

He is.

He is spilling over.

Steve is unraveling. Every constructed asset of Captain America peeling away beneath the terror and celebration he exists undeather, knowing that his bondmate is alive. Terror for what's become of him--what's been done to him--and celebration for knowing he's still alive, even if alive may be a stretch. He is a shell.

He is a shell because Steve's Bucky wouldn't choke him intent to kill. But the soldier does.

The soldier is.

The soldier is going to do him in.

The soldier would--the soldier will choke him out. The soldier will kill him. He will because he's been giving the opportunity on a silver platter, Steve's body limp. His instincts can't be overriden. The pure relieve and horror he feels. The rushing, rising tide of his stunted heat suddenly overcoming him. The soldier would murder Steve if not for Sam, who does a flying kick to Bucky's shoulder and knocks him away from Steve.

Bucky growls roughly, even more frustrated than before. But, something in him has changed. His eyes dart between Steve and Sam uncomprehending what's happening. There's the darkness of primal instinct behind those eyes. Steve desperately wishes he knew if it was his natural alpha instincts or whatever perverted, twisted instincts whoever did this to him placed in his broken mind.

This is Bucky, but this isn't Bucky.

Steve watches, heart throbbing in his crushed, hurting throat, as Bucky scrambles to his feet. Body lifting and moving with deadly precision, his metal hand clutches at his flesh and blood shoulder. It's sitting at an awkward angle compared to the rest of his body. Sam's kick must've dislocated it. Steve can't shove down his own growl, territorial over his alpha who's been abruptly dangled in front of his face, just out of reach.

Although Steve's possessive, mate mate mate protective instincts turn into a whine quickly. One of his hands lifts without his conscious input and stretches out toward Bucky. His fingers tremble, aching to soothe the hurt he's masking and aching to be soothed himself. Moments from every heat he's spent with his alpha over their life together flash before his eyes as his alpha's eyes bore into him, confusion plain as day, then realization, then horrified fear, and then he's scurrying away.

Bucky doesn't bother to grab a gun, knife, steal his shield, or anything. He's just high-tailing it out of there--there one moment and then gone the next and leaving Steve to deal with the aftermath.

Alone.

With no mate.

Entirely devastated.

Steve is choking and sputtering after being choked, feeling wet and sticky between his legs as the fever of heat really starts to sink its teeth into him. Jesus Christ. One smell of his alpha and his grieving, out-of-wack body has locked itself into a tailspin. Jesus Christ. He's so fucked. So not fucked. He remembers what his heats were like after the serum. They're unstoppable. Worse than they ever were when he was just a runt omega. He needs his alpha.

How's he going to survive one without him?

What is he supposed to do?

Steve has just begun to comprehend some of what unfolded, and he already feels helpless. He's crushed. There's nothing he can do.

Steve swallows a pathetic cry, stuffing it down his throat.

A cramp roils through Steve's shivering body. He ends up collapsing forward into a ball, his cowl-covered forehead hitting the concrete ground with a desperate, defeated clunk.

His ears are still ringing. His heart is still, of course, pounding. His nose tells him he can still smell his alpha, his perfect, familiar scent crowded by the scent of so much fucking pain. And his eyes squeeze shut that much tighter. So, he can't hear what Sam is saying. He can't see Natasha rush over. He can't parse out the questions they're asking him or the way they're touching him gently, trying to figure out where he's hurt, how badly he's hurt. Steve can do nothing but try and fail to grapple with the impending doom of knowing he's in for a week of agony without his alpha.

His alpha who is alive.

He has to find him.

He needs him.

P.S. if you enjoyed this pain™️ you'll like this orphaned fic, "it's gotta get easier somehow ('coz, i'm falling, i'm falling)"

I forgot about it until I finished this little drabble, but I've had it bookmarked forever, so, it probably inspired this subconsciously!

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #omegaverse #omega steve #alpha bucky #angst #mating cycles/in heat #fic rec

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