#that emoji was suggested whatever
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ordered curry 🍛
#that emoji was suggested whatever#i wanted to do a thumbs up but that's also good#something visual for you picture enjoyers
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learning some new things in mordhaus tonight
#do you think they ever explored each other's bodies.png#coughing wheezing idk. have whatever this is#i started this over a month ago skull emoji#mtl#metalocalypse#pickles the drummer#nathan explosion#nickles#omgg nickles content nickles content#skrunkart#metalocalypse fanart#mtl fanart#yk how it is#sorry i love putting blorbos in the exact same flavor of situation (accidental gay self-incrimination?) and i will do it again. lol. also#this comic is actually deeply improbable because the use of mommy suggests it takes place after aotd and thus after they'd learned to value#like. the lives of others. so they wouldnt be so flippant about the dead klokateers. BUT I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT TIL TODAY SO FUCK IT.WHATEVE
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#slightly closer angle under the cut#zeraora#aaahhh yes. many a furry's Favorite Legendary#i'd have a hard time disagreeing! wait hold on one of the suggested tags when i typed “i'd” was “i'd cry”#me too hello? sorry WAIT WHAT WAS THAT ONE#when i was typing that one it had one with a bunch of. fire emojis in it. as a suggested tag. no idea what THAT was but#whatever this is irrelevant. yes many furries like this guy and i can see why. literal catboy pokémon. i definitely am not slightly miffed#that you can only get this thing through mystery gifts#literally the only zeraora i've ever acquired is the shiny one from the mystery gift they had in swsh#also i used to pronounce its name as [zə.'ɻaw.ɻə] instead of something like /ze.rə.'ɔ.rə/ or whatever people say#but nowadays i say the latter. just because everyone says that
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i hate my uni sm lol i dont want to be heeeeere let me out let me out
#motherfucking dance classes. we have the exam in two weeks and the choreography's not ready.#we gotta meet up in our own free time without the professor and practise on our own and try out if something works or doesnt. on. our. own.#bitch like what are you getting paid for lol#i hate it here so much i didnt come here to dance#and i leave every rehearsal on the verge of a panic attack and with red welts down my arms from scratching myself to calm tf down lol#(ask me again why i became obsessed with the white haired beautiful princess with a disorder in record time lol I GET HIM)#its fucking mental torture to me lol#anyway now im getting passive aggressive comments in the groupchat because they suddenly decided that we need to meet#for another rehearsal. today in two hours. like bitch????? sorry that i have earlier plans??????#i gently suggested that we should try to set the rehearsal plans earlier#and i even put a sad emoji at the end to show that im not trying to be a bitch lol#and now a girl im like actually friends with goes all 'thank you for your input jagoda im waiting for you to suggest something better' like#girl?????????? lol#but like it's whatever. apologised immediately ofc like why bother#anyway BASTA
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remembered that the other day i was thinking about how like, "jared & alana kind of re/connecting more in college / becoming friends then" ideas sure have a potential complication in "do they talk about tcp ever lol. jared has this secret here" where like yeah maybe the answer is "no not really," at this point post orchard it can be kind of in the past / in stasis, like maybe alana keeps the site up & all but for one thing, well, she's busy with college at the moment & maybe even other things (so many possibilities about what college looks like for alana or jared or whomever. just like in life) and also from her perspective like well jared wasn't ever That involved anyways, even if you harmonized together for two measures in a song like of course alana was focused on evan as the other co president co True Believer / Understander about the ethos of the project anyways, vs that it was fine to have jared in the background possibly, doing tech support. and she could just suppose that, even if she does suspect something Was up about everything, that maybe it's not like jared knew about that or was involved
but anyways i was like "well fuck it, what if she did also suspect jared could've known anything was up about the supposed factual premises around here. and she was mostly fine with that" (which i mean. could be true anyways. alana could sure likewise just have complicated feelings, about things beyond The Absolute Facts Of The Case, as is relevant the entire time re: anyone else. even if yeah it would also bother her. she has her own path right there to sympathizing more easily anyways in like, yeah she Was his lab partner, the facts may not be that moving, but it was still meaningful enough to her as a connection / Theoretical connection like 'well we Could've been friends?' / alana sympathizing with someone Now Never Having The Chance To Know Connor which is also evan's status or anyone else's anyways)
so further anyways i was also just thinking how like, well, there's complications in "jared can't tell the full story b/c a) he & evan are keeping this secret for themselves And each other, just unspoken across time & space & perhaps forever thusly. nbd & b) he can't tell the Full Story to anyone else anyways. goodforyou.mp3....though, see: the Handshake Gay potential element to college alana & jared friendship lol. don't need to give granular details about Realizing Things / Fun Facts of disastrous [all very heterosexual] relationship histories" but also maybe even if he is willing to give any very general acknowledgment to "Was something up with all that, do you think, do you know" type inquiries, it was like well but what if that's actually somewhat / enough of a relief to alana to get further confirmation that yeah there were some extra reasons things fell apart a bit there. Because like, otherwise, from her perspective it's like she was helming this surely noble helpful project with mostly this one other person who then stopped caring or at least responding in the same ways, and then that happened more generally with alana being mostly solo running things and then those things going to shit. where maybe having a hint that yeah, there was some other weird complications going on like problems as fundamental as [this story wasn't quite factually true was it] can be, to her, like nonzero reassurance that She Herself wasn't thee factor who like managed to be on a different page than everyone else after all & also just ruin things in whatever way b/c it was all going great until it sure wasn't
#deh#the complication becoming like ''can jared give some Vague responses that in their ambiguity don't suggest he also only Suspects vs like#yeah he Knows something was up'' but like he can also just stop being so Responsive any further than that#like [we must Investigate this] (which like. is hardly a response alana would guaranteed have in turn) well jared can just: Not#even without giving more info about Why not. easy to avoid being dragged into that. just don't do anything. shrug. homework time#anyways. like just a strange situation overall i think they can handle the weirdness of ''yeah jared Is withholding further info but''#like Okay & the idea here being that alana Could actually just be glad to get whatever tilt of the head is like yeah....#neither me nor the facts were quite straight were they pensive emoji....#b/c again like tl;dr confirmation that she didn't / doesn't Ruin any efforts at helping ppl b/c of something just about her & her efforts#neither does she have to feel oh i did everything Perfectly b/c how would that be helpful for any of the characters#or for anyone ever in any situation. but again if instead she thinks oh evan Was the grieving bestie the story Was true etc etc....#like well then seems Your involvement & [being the main person making tcp a thing & then keeping it a thing] messed that up
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FYI:
My tagging system got all messed up and now some of my tags aren’t working right, so I’m just gonna totally start over.
Starting today I’m no longer going to use emojis in my tags (i.e. “bucky barnes ❤️); it will just be the name/word/whatever (i.e. “bucky barnes”). I’m only gonna keep my tags for “fics 🗒️”, “words 💌” and “art 🎨” the same for now but everything else will be emoji-free. It just seems easier at this point tbh
#i tried manually re-entering every tag with emojis that i use#and some just wouldn’t show up in the tag suggestions when i wanna tag a post something specific#idk whatever
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help what the fcck is this new feature
#writing fanfiction this is not a diary entry or anything even if im self projecting#the mikey on the keyboard is not mine#i mean it's not my art#i'll put the artist's username on the tags when i find them again#anyways this feature suggests mixes of emojis to go with whatever you write#pretty cool but also sort of distracting#i just want to turn it off#my mother however‚ wants to know how she can turn it ON#google keyboard#custom emoji
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urghdjf i need an interest to just absolutely throw myself into
#most promising rn is greco roman mythology/history but also i want a research phase w some sort of animal just not sure which i want to#tackle first. or how#or when. that is the main issue actually. winter break i guess idk#personal#for now i’ll just have to settle for physics because HOLY SHIT it is going so bad rn i cannot stress enough how poorly i am doing in this#class. i have never done this bad ever and passing it is going to be such a pain <- hang on need to say that when i typed that autocorrect#suggested a bunch of bread emojis that’s really funny actually. anyway. going to be such a pain if it’s even possible#met w my physics prof today to go over a game plan and he says it is ‘not at all out of the realm of possibility’ but oh my god. i cannot#believe how much i am stressing over the prospect of needing to get like a 73 on the next two exams like that SHOULD NOT fill me w#unspeakable dread and fear that should be fine. and yet#also when i asked him if he hs any recommendations for resources besides our textbook he told me no i just need to use the textbook#‘properly.’ which. okay fuck you then <3 i read the chapters all the way through and take pages of notes on them like i don’t know how much#more proper you want me to get. clearly it is not working if i am averaging a 45% on exams. but whatever !#the physics chronicles#sorry that completely derailed from the original purpose of this post
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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You
synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.
genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot
word count: 4.4k
warnings: implied stalking
Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!
You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.
But nope. Nothing.
Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.
‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.
As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.
“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.
⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️
Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?
The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.
"..."
Was this a porn ad?!
No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.
On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or
You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.
Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.
Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.
*****
You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.
8:02 a.m.
You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.
“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.
“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.
You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.
“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”
You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.
“And… you are?”
“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”
You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.
“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”
“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.
Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”
What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.
“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”
You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”
The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”
Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.
Not a prank.
And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.
“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”
“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”
Okay, gross but kind of sweet.
“May I come in?”
“Huh?”
“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”
“Oh, um… Suuuree-”
“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.
Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.
You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.
“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”
Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.
“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”
After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.
“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”
“Willing client?” you asked.
“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.
“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”
“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.
“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”
“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”
Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.
“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”
“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.
“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”
“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”
You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”
“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”
You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.
“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.
“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”
You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”
“Would you like to meet him?”
“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”
“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”
The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”
Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”
“So, like 8 hours ago?”
“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”
“Hmm.”
“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”
You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.
“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”
“Huh?”
“Excuse me, my darling?”
“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”
The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.
“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.
“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”
He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”
*****
Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.
“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”
You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!
“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.
After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!
“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.
“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.
“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.
“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”
“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”
Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”
You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.
Tap tap tap
Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.
Tap tap tap tap
It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap
You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.
“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.
‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’
He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…
“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.
“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.
“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.
“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.
“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.
The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”
You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.
“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”
He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.
“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”
You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.
“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.
“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?
“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.
He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.
“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”
Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.
You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”
Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”
“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”
Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”
You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”
Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.
“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”
Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.
“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”
“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”
You are such a baby for flattery.
*****
“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.
Sitting in his lap.
And feeding each other.
“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”
“I see…” he said hesitantly.
“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”
“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.
“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.
“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”
Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”
And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”
“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”
You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”
“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”
“Yes sir.”
The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.
---
a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.
Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.
#male yandere#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere boy#yandere boyfriend#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#yandere x willing reader#x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere boyfriend scenario#yandere kinnie#my writing#long break#goofy ahh#anime playlist#youtube channel#youtuber#creative writing#crack post#fluff scenario#fluff fanfic#requests are open#requests open#oneshot#yandere anime boyfriend#yandere manga boy#please request
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HEY CUTIE ⸻ touya todoroki
INCLUDES — gn! reader, streamer! au, headcannons, drabbles, smau, fluff, crack, slightly suggestive, around 2k words WARNINGS — dabi and his chat making 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 jokes read at your own risk, also the pink color used for the y/n's username doesn't depict gender or anything i just wanted to use it. TAGS — @bbluefllame, @seneon
main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚
[ cutiepatootien/n — is your username. i added n/n (nickname) at the end instead of y/n because we gotta be mysterious. you can use whatever you want for your n/n. ]
streamer! dabi who created his account because toga wanted a partner to play roblox with her on stream.
the chat was buzzing with excitement, a sea of emojis, animated stickers and exclamation points flowing through the live stream. toga himiko, spinning around in her pink gaming chair with her signature grin plastered across her face. she ceased her spinning, banging her palms onto the desk as she leaned into the camera. her hair was styled in her usual wild, chaotic fashion, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and anticipation.
"hello my lovelies! welcome back to my channel!" she exclaimed, her voice full of energy. "today’s going to be a blast because i’ve got a special guest joining me!"
the chat exploded with curiosity and speculation. who could it be?
toga's grin widened. "presenting my one and only grumpy roommate, who i’ve bribed with a month of doing his chores to do this with me, dabi!”
a wave of hype flooded the chat, and viewers eagerly waited for this ‘dabi’ to make his entrance. the screen flickered for a moment before his webcam feed appeared. he leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed yet slightly bored, a stark contrast to toga’s exuberance. his room was quite dark, the only way you could make out his face was through the glow of his monitors. his dark hair was tousled and his smirk was casual.
itscandy: woah didn’t know your roommate was a hottie 😻 togasgirlfriend: himiko is hotter 🙄 froggypop: why he look suspiciuroisu himikoshairclip: the editors are gonna have fun with this stream bunnyrabbit: I WANT BOAF ‼️
"hey, everyone," dabi started, his voice deep and slightly scratchy. he gave a lazy wave to the camera. "let’s get this over with."
toga laughed, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "stop trying to be nonchalant, show some energy!” she exclaimed, a bit too close to her mic which made dabi slightly wince and adjust his headphones. “we’re going to have so much fun! today, we’re diving into a horror game on roblox! hope you’re ready to get scared!"
dabi raised an eyebrow. "horror, huh? sounds like it might be a good laugh."
"alright, let’s do this!" toga said, clicking on the game. the screen transitioned to the game’s loading screen, and the chat erupted with a flurry of messages, many were curious about dabi and how he would handle the scares.
"okay so the goal is to go through as many doors as we can while surviving the monsters," toga explained, her tone taking on a serious note. "stick with me and don’t go running off by yourself."
dabi nodded, his expression shifting into one of mild amusement. "yes ma’am, lead the way."
streamer! dabi who ended up enjoying the games a lot and decided to start doing some solo streams.
dabi sat in front of his gaming setup, the glow of his computer monitor illuminating his sharp features in the dimly lit room.
he hit the “go live” button and watched as the chat box began to fill with greetings and excited comments from his growing fanbase. dabi’s expression softened, a rare hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. the anticipation in the chat was palpable. he took a moment to compose himself, then looked directly into the camera.
“hey, everyone. dabi here,” he said, his voice a smooth, controlled monotone. “you may know me as the hot and better roommate from toga's roblox stream a few days ago." he leaned back into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he scanned the chat box. "i wanted to do a stream of my own, just for fun. so tonight, I’m diving into one of the scariest horror games out there. don't piss you pants, yeah?”
streamer! dabi who gained a huge following quite quickly. his name popping up on every platform and eventually, he catches your attention.
"2 am, huh?" dabi says, finally clicking out of the game he had chosen to play for tonight, staring at his small desk clock. it had been over 3 hours since he first started the stream. he stretched his body slightly, slight muscles flexing under the shirt he wore as he leaned closer to the camera, checking himself out. "fuck chat, i can see my roots." he says, ruffling up his hair slightly.
chococat donated $30
back away from the camera youre making me nervous
loverriots donated $15
you look hot either way king
menkisser donated $50
DYE MY HAIR WITH ME STREAM WHEN???
he grinned at the donations, leaning back into his chair and lighting up a cigarette as he scanned the chat box. "maybe i should do one..this white hair makes me feel old."
cutiepatootien/n donated $5
i didn’t know you had dyed hair, it really suits you
dabi's fiery gaze lingered on your donation for a bit too long. he takes a drag from his cigarette before replying. "m'flattered really. interesting name you got there by the way".
cutiepatootien/n: oh my god my friends changed it as a joke but now i can’t reset it 😭
he grinned at your response, leaning closer slightly, his piercings gleaming from the light of his monitor. "i think it suits you, cutie".
dabislefttoe: GAH DAMN juicebox: if i close my eyes i can pretend he’s saying that to me #staydelulu ❤️ ihateorangecandy: n/n won joinmystreamforfreerobux: i was orginally here to promote this bot but heyyy 😻 alphawolf: that’s it im getting you pregnant
streamer! dabi who's mind lingers on you for too long, even after the stream has ended. he find's himself getting too silly and clicking on your twitch profile.
it's been two hours since dabi clicked on your social links from your twitch profile. he shamelessly scrolled through your instagram and tiktok, scanning each picture and video, carefully making sure he that he doesn't accidentally like anything. he's so engrossed in this that he doesn't even notice when his blonde roommate enters the room and stands behind him, staring at his screen.
"they're cute," toga says, one hand on the arm of his chair while the other one rests on his desk. "yeah.." dabi mindlessly replies before snapping his head to look at her, quickly closing his tabs. "what the fuck toga i told you to knock before coming in" he sneers at her, clearly annoyed.
"oh come on, i would've busted down the door by how loudly i was knocking," she replies, spinning around and slumping herself on his bed "but you were too busy stalking your new crush! who are they by the way? tell me the deets!" she says, excitedly kicking her feet.
"it's none of your business, get lost," he mumbles, grabbing a drink from his mini fridge, snapping it open with his middle finger and taking a sip.
toga skips over to his desk, snagging a drink for herself which earns her a scowl from dabi, before she speaks, "mhm sure! let me know if your loser ass needs some advice."
"get out."
streamer! dabi who decides to give in to his chat's requests and go live while dyeing his hair.
dabi’s bathroom was lit up by the harsh, overhead fluorescent lights. he was leaning over the sink, one hand gripping a box of black hair dye and the other clutching a pair of disposable gloves. the mirror was fogged up from the hot water he’d run earlier, but the camera in front of him was crystal clear, broadcasting his every move to a growing audience.
“hey degenerates, what's ip?” dabi’s voice crackled with a hint of amusement as he adjusted the camera angle. “welcome to the chaos. you all wanted me to touch up my roots on stream for whatever freaky reason so, here we are—dyeing my hair live.”
he chuckled, the sound mingling with the chatter of his chat. The screen was a whirlwind of comments, emojis, and questions. before he did anything, he looked down at his shirt pondering for a moment. "i should take this off right? don't want it to get stained or anything" he says nonchalantly as he pulls it over his head.
now some might think this was unnecessary, i mean — taking off his black shirt because he was scared it was going to get stained with black dye? it almost seemed like he had done it on purpose..but the chat didn't seem to care.
touyaslefttit: the first thing i look at in a man is his heart. the fact that his tits are in front of his heart is NOT MY FAULT hellokittylvr: GIRL DINNER 😻😻 pookieschmookie: no guillotine could take away the head im about to give him ilovefictionalmen: i wanna take a shower with him I MEAN i wanna keep him as a pet I MEAN loverriots: very demure shigaraki: 🍅🍅🍅
he tossed his shirt aside, constantly eyeing the screen and reading the chat box and donations carefully as he put on his gloves and squeezed dye into a bowl.
cutiepatootien/n donated $10
just opened the stream and the first thing i see is your chest 😓 not complaining tho 🙏🙏
dabi immediately looks down, keeping his eyes on the dye. "i can show you more than my chest cutie" he says boldly, trying to hide the stupid smirk on his face. [a/n: fake nonchalant dreadhead!! i see him chalanting!!]
streamer! dabi who was waiting for you to join his stream.
streamer! dabi who shamelessly flirts with you on stream, causing many fans to talk about you and try to speculate who this 'cutie' could be.
"so their name is y/n!" toga yells into dabi's ear. she was once again in his room, uninvited, staring at him with sparkly and excited eyes. she had somehow found out your name and was now shoving her phone which had twitter open in his face. the tweets were from his viewers, all about who this 'cutie' could be.
dabi groans. yeah he was the one who drew attention to you but, uh oh! he's now facing the consequences of his own actions as he stares at your account which is now on private. you were smart and new it was best to keep your socials private and out of view from any jealous or crazy fans dabi might have.
"just send them a follow request if you wanna see them so bad!" toga says, getting slightly impatient and snatching dabi's phone out of his hand and speed walking away. "TOGA STOP DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!" he yells as he chases her. "you're too much of a pussy dabi, you have a crush and you should confess!" she says, tossing the phone back to dabi. he hurriedly grabs it and stares at the screen in shock.
there your account was..now public? no. he was following it.
"you actually sent them a follow request?" he says, glaring at the blonde who just flashes him a cheeky smile. "but they accepted right? shoot your shot!"
"i'm going to kick you out of my house."
streamer! dabi who spends a lot of time with you floating around in his mind and eventually musters up the courage to text you.
NOTE — i fear i yapped too much for this one, dabi having a silly internet crush is just so cutesy to me. did you guys notice me and shigaraki sneaking into this fic i thought it was funny. might make this into a series?? idk.
©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
#loveriotss#anime#mha#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#smau#bnha smau#mha smau#streamer! au#quirkless! au#dabi#mha dabi#touya todoroki#mha touya#toga himiko#dabi x reader#touya x reader#gn reader#x gn reader#male reader#x male reader#female reader#x female reader#fluff#crack#crack fic
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How would your future spouse treat you on your moon cycle? <3
I was having such bad cramps when this question suddenly hit me and I figured we'd all love to know, right? Even though I get very cranky and like to be alone during my time of the month hehe.
1 -> 2
3 -> 4
Pile 1- Wheel of fortune, queen of wands, queen of swords.
So this person will literally try to pamper you, whatever that may look like for you. I'm hearing they'll respect all of your boundaries and will grant all of your wishes, they're very supportive. I'm hearing they don't like seeing you in pain and they understand how uncomfortable this time frame is for you.
I think this person is naturally caring and easily can read human emotions and they're giving therapists vibes tbh like they could work in that field or maybe for some I'm picking up on massage therapists, this person just seems like they know humans enough like maybe they studied it or it could just means they've studied you so well they know what you need (I said 'want' at first but was directed to switch it to 'need'. Someone's fs here likes being in charge lol) . Either way, I think they'd love to be your massage therapist around this time. I'm hearing anything to make you feel good.
THEY WILL LITERALLY TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN, pamper you, spoil you.
I'm hearing for some, around your moon cycle you get mood swings maybe? Your entire energy changes enough for this person to catch on and they'll know before/when you're on your period because of this. Maybe you're usually very chill and calm and around this time you're just more cranky than usual like me lol and your person will try very hard to just make sure your okay and not taking their head off? Lol, the way your person talks is very funny, they're very funny and so so sweet!
I think this person will treat you so well simply because they love you, you're their baby and they respect you so much. You're literally their queen. They love you so so much 😍 they want me to leave this rose emoji for you 🌹 (I think they're very giving, it's just in their nature 😭)
Other messages- my sweet girl, lots of chocolate and warm towels, hugs and I'm picking up on those who would rather be left alone for moments at a time they understand, they'll check up on you occasionally and will still be very affectionate (u can't refuse their hugs I'm hearing no escape lol 🤣😭 they're very cute. I think they like compliments? They might blush and smile a lot?) The type to randomly kiss ur forehead or cheek when ur literally just ✨chillin✨ just because.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
Pile 2- Ace of swords, temperance, the fool and the hermit.
So I think this person actually doesn't know much about a women's cycle, I think for a specific few they're the only child or maybe they just didn't grow up around a lot of feminine energy so this just isn't their field but I'm hearing they'd try damn hard to make sure everything's okay!
They'd follow your lead on this, like they prefer to maybe watch you from afar during this time? Like sometimes they don't know if they should bother or if they could help at all so they'll probably just straight up ask if there's anything they can do. This person isn't immature about it, but they do feel a bit awkward during those days? (I'm actually dying at ur person, they hardly know how to describe anything?)
Okay, for example, say you're having very bad stomach cramps and you've been in bed all day complaining, they would probably let you stay in bed as long as you'd like and would peek their head in the doorway to silently check up on you because they don't know if they should disturb you or not.
I think they'd love it if you just told them or ask for anything you need, I think they'd rather you rest and use them as a servant 😜 (ur person wanted me to add that, they felt very serious until now? I'm dying) until you feel better, they'll try different approaches tho, I don't think it'll always be this awkward. I think when you two have been together for awhile they'll pick up. I think then they'd mix up their own home remedies, and their own strategies by now, they're not very specific on what this could be or what it could look like because I think this person doesn't really want you to know?
They really want you to feel cared for and like they're there for you as much as possible so they're constantly thinking of new ideas for you!
This is not an 18+ reading and take it how it resonates but I think a very selective few wouldn't mind having intercourse on their moon cycle? 👀
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
Pile 3- Death, Ace of coins, The tower, Page of wands
This pile feels different, I was getting the energy of your person being shy and excited to have their turn for the reading 🤣 maybe this person isn't someone who you see romantically at first, could be a roommate a friend but you do know this person or they will come into your life at some point and you guys will have some kind of friendship from the start. It's giving secret admirer tho.
With the death card I'm thinking y'all could've just made it official, it feels like this is something new to them. Maybe it makes them feel a step closer to you? They think it's very cool you're trusting them enough at a time like this. They really value it.
I think they'll be the type to really go all in, ask you probably 20x a day "What do you need?" I saw that scene from Aladdin, when the genie is explaining how tired he is of being in the lamp and he's like "What do you need?Poof! What do you need? Poof!"
This person is trying to charm you and maybe show you they really care for you by doing this, I'm hearing 365 days a year they'll be like this tho, not only when you're on your moon cycle. I think they want you to be vulnerable with them or can't wait to see more vulnerable sides of you.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
Pile 4- The moon, Kight of coins, Temperance, Kight of swords.
My pile 4's energy is different, I think this person could be older than you? This person overall isn't someone who's very cuddly or could even be very hard to read so moments like these really show that side of them in their own way?
For example, say you ran out of pads but your stomach hurts too bad to go get them yourself, your person wouldn't be thrilled to shop in the women's section but for YOU they will, they'll go get your pads and make sure they're the right size and everything (I'm hearing he'll literally call you and ask what size he should get).
They're very serious when it comes to you, they have dedication and it shows in the oddest ways possible.
So for your time of the month they'd be very chill about, the other piles felt all jittery and nervous like they were scared to mess up but your person is smart, he'll break down those walls for you, if you just want to cuddle in bed they'll hold you as long as you like. I'm hearing they're actually kind of "softer" at the right times (I'm sorry I can't think of a better word right now)
You'll love how this person will treat you and your needs and I'm hearing symptoms as well, they're very comfortable and reliable. He's like your big giant teddy bear! 🧸
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
#18+ tarot#pac tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot#pac love reading#pick a card#tarotcommunity#tarotblr#spirituality#pick a pile#tarot commissions#tarot requests
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Can you please write dating headcanons for Gun park, 𝐉ichang 𝐊wak and 𝐒eongji 𝐘uk? Thank you ❤️
↳-Dating hc for Gun Park,Jichang Kwak and Seongji Yuk-༉‧₊˚✧
-ʚɞ warnings: none
-ʚɞ genre: fluff, slightly suggestive/nsfw
-ʚɞ a/n: reader is gn
Masterlist
Gun Park
✧ Spoils you rotten.
✧ Legit buys you whatever you want.
✧ Knows exactly how you like your coffee. You don’t like coffee? He will get you hot chocolate instead.
✧ Slightly over protective of you. (Not very slightly actually big over protective.)
✧ God forbid someone made you uncomfortable. Instant death.
✧ Dates would include going to fancy restaurants.
✧ Secretly likes getting his hair played with.
✧ You guys would also occasionally shower together.
✧ Really really likes seeing you in his clothes.
✧ Secretly has forehead pictures of you.
✧ After the deed lovemaking he doesn’t fall asleep till you do
Jichang Kwak
⭒ You guys have matching pijamas.
⭒ That man genuinely doesn’t know how to use emojis ‘someone just died 💀💀😭😭’
⭒ You said as a joke once ‘smoke a cigarette today and I will top you next time during..’ then magically he didn’t smoke for a whole week.
⭒ Loves LOVESSS you holding his pinkie.
⭒ Puts his glasses on you during yk.
⭒ Makes you clean his glasses.
⭒ I feel like if he is gifting you something it would be jewelry.
⭒ Also if you prefer a specific brand do not send him to buy it to you. He WILL buy the wrong thing.
⭒ Dates would include fishing together or star glazing during a picnic.
⭒ You cook (if you want to) or he orders something. lazy ass
⭒ Not ashamed to tie your shoes.
Seongji Yuk
𖦹 He makes you tanghulu candy.
𖦹 Matching wallpapers.does he have a phone?
𖦹 Dates would include building blanket forts together!
𖦹 ‘What else can them fingers do?’ (A lot)
𖦹 Doesn’t really know how to show his affection so he might hug you out of the blue.
𖦹 After he gets used to you, he’s very clingy.
𖦹 Kiss his fingers pls :( as return he will kiss your forehead or chin.
𖦹 Loves when you put your head on his shoulder.
𖦹 Very very secretly a cuddle bug.
𖦹 Praises you infront of others A LOT.
𖦹 Giggles and smiles only around you.
#lookism x reader#lookism#gun park#park jong geon#gun park x reader#jichang kwak#kwak jichang#kwak jichang x reader#jichang x reader#seongji yuk#seongji yook#seongji yuk x reader#seongji yook x reader
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For the Kids
I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣ ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣ ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.”
Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.
This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally.
He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.
“Mr. Bang?”
He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.
Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.
“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”
“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly, “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”
Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”
“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”
Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.
“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”
The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.
“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”
“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”
A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”
You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”
It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.
Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.
Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.
From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.
Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.
“Wanna see my drawing?”
He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”
Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”
The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.
“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”
Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”
She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.
Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.
With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.
“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.
“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”
“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”
“Hyung!”
Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.
Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”
You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”
His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation.
“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”
“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”
Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”
“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”
Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”
“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”
Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”
You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.
Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.
“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”
“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”
“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”
Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”
“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”
Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”
“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”
Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”
He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”
“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.
Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.
‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’
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#skz smut#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan fluff
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𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬.
ex-con!linecook!eddie x fem!reader
✶Steve messed up. He assured you over and over again that you could have the spare bedroom in his apartment, but while you took your time mulling over his offer, someone else moved in: his down-and-out best friend who needed a place to stay. When you show up at Steve's door with little warning due to your job relocating you, he suggests you and Eddie share the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Besides the fact Eddie hated you, and in turn, you hated Eddie.✶
NSFW — smut, masturbation, eddie watches porn, dry humping, cumming in pants, reader flashes her bra & wears a pencil skirt, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one bed(room)
↳ teaser oneshot | [wc: 9.3k] | series tba!
⋅line cook hc from @bewilderedbunny⋅
Steve was a nice guy. Really.
He was your pen pal since meeting at summer camp when you were both eight-years-old. He was sweet, and wrote you back within a week, without fail. He was your first kiss one sweltering afternoon on the dock over the lake; a quick peck when the counselors weren’t looking. He was one of your first contacts in your flip phone, and his picture occupied the first circle when you got a smartphone, after pestering him to meet up with you in Indianapolis, snapping the pic at a crosswalk; a day where your conversations spanned nothing and everything. What was there to talk about when you talked via pencil, pen, markers, emojis, and photos for years, and suddenly forgot the past decade when you encircled your arms around each other?
He was a nice guy throughout all of college. He’d text you during class. You’d text him from states away, falling asleep at your dormroom desk. He worked at his father’s business. You started as an unpaid intern collecting coffee orders, and pulling all-nighters doing spreadsheet grunt work your superiors didn’t deem worthy of their time.
Stevie 🌞: just quit your job and live with me!
Stevie 🌞: I still have that spare bedroom
Stevie 🌞: rent free
Year after year, you always declined. Climbing the ranks at your job was important to you; and one day it paid off. They were relocating you to the Chicago, and if you didn’t take their pitiful relocation package, you’d get a decent advance on your next paycheck (which was dire considering your salary was roughly the same, despite the ever increasing cost of living); and knowing Steve always had that spare furnished bedroom, and most of your belongings could fit into your car (as long as you didn’t need to see out the rear window), it seemed like a done deal.
Until you surprised him.
You: hey! can i move in w you? my jobs relocating me to chicago and i might already be two hours out. sorry i didn’t text sooner. i had to leave my apartment asap. fuck paying for the damage cindy’s doberman did to that place 😬
Stevie 🌞: Lets talk when you get here
Stevie 🌞: I’ll meet you for coffee
Let’s talk? Never a good sign, even when he was smiling at you from over his latte.
————
“My friend needed the spare room, but he’s a good guy, I swear,” he told you.
“He’s just a little rough around the edges,” he told you.
“He’s understanding; I’m sure you two will get along,” he told you.
“He can make space in the closet for your stuff, and one of you can sleep on the couch,” he told you. “Maybe you can alternate! Bed, couch. It's not like I’m charging him rent, so he should be cool with you living with us until you can afford to move out, or whatever. No big deal. I don’t really care when, you know that. No rush.”
Right. Just share the room.
You weren’t present for the conversation; Steve and Eddie were in the bedroom while you stood awkwardly in the living room, but the result of the exchange made quite the first impression.
“I dunno,” Steve’s voice carried, “maybe you could work something out like you get the room Monday through Wednesday, and she gets it Thursday through Saturday. Sunday’s up in the air?”
“Oh, just share the room like I used to, huh?” Eddie asked, alluding to the life he lived several months ago. “Finally got some privacy to breathe around here, and now you’ve invited some chick to live with us without telling me? Actually–no–you invited her to live here. In my room. No heads up.”
Steve’s wince was audible in his heavy sigh. “You work weird hours, you probably won’t even have to interact with her. C’mon, man. She’s been my friend since we were kids, and it’s just until she finds her own place. She’s cool. She’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever if it really bothers you; just like, let her keep her clothes and shit in here, and let her use the computer for work.”
“Whatever, man.”
“Eddie, wait!”
Thunderous footsteps and a seething, “Fuck this,” followed the heightened emotions, and before you could straighten your spine, you were introduced to your new roommate.
His pace faltered, not expecting you to be standing there. The fine wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes pinched tighter, and his long hair flowed around a faded black snake tattoo on his throat, stretching across the strained tendons it was inked over, reaching the twitching muscle in his jaw from his clenched teeth. It took him a narrow-eyed glance to sum you and your pink luggage up, and place you firmly in the ‘I don’t like you’ category in his mind, and he continued his march.
“Hi! I’m–”
Your outstretched hand went ignored as he passed you.
He shoved on his boots, and slammed the front door behind him, rattling every piece of metal in the apartment. You stared at where he was just standing, vision marked with a black silhouette of the good guy you’d be sharing intimate space with for the next.. however long, and still with your hand out, you swiveled to Steve. “Yeah, he seems nice.”
————
Eddie Munson glared at your very existence. He wore a permanent crease between his brows when you were in his vicinity. Apprehension tensed his muscles when your soft gaze slid from Steve, to him. There was distaste in his frown. He rolled his eyes when you laughed too loud at the TV. His voice was vitriol, words clipped when he had to speak to you. His shoulders hiked to his ears when you entered the kitchen for a glass of water and caught him mid-chew on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he got home from work. When it was your turn to sleep in the bed, he made it a point to come home as loud as possible–yanking open the drawers on the dresser, waking the computer to blazing home screen, and leaving the light on when he went to shower across the hallway, pretending he didn’t hear you grumble at him to turn it off.
You wore a sleep mask to bed after that.
And when you slept on the couch, it was the only time he cooked for himself. Scraping pans across the burners, clinking silverware, gathering his hair off his neck and twisting it between his laced fingers, creating a cradle for him to drop his head back and sigh at the ceiling, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep.
You wore earplugs to bed after that.
Eddie Munson made it known you were not welcomed in his territory, and saw your accidental warm smile thrown vaguely in his direction as a threat to his well being.
But as much as he ensured misery every second you had the fortune of spending in his presence, you weren’t so innocent of terrorizing his every waking moment either..
Soon, Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday through Saturday, and a chance at a lazy Sunday were not enough.
————
When Steve was home, he acted as the mediator when it came to you two being at each other’s throats after another vicious stare-off. Currently, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the counter with his cheeks darkened to a fleshy red, and you were pacing the kitchen, wrapped in a bath towel, stating your case to Steve. You argued since most of the hair clogging the drain belonged to Eddie, he should be the one to clean it. And Steve, not knowing how to interpret Eddie’s steely focus on the fridge as if you didn’t exist, nor the fact a woman was dripping wet and yelling at him, he put his hands up in defense.
He edged away from your ire until he was at the cabinet housing a toothpick dispenser, and depressed the mechanism for one to roll out. He snapped it, put his hands behind his back, and shuffled the two ends into his palm, and had you choose one. Eddie kept his gaze averted, but grasped the other.
You held the long end of the toothpick above your head with a smile to rival the kitchen’s daylight bulbs searing into your retinas. You were the winner, and Eddie was the loser who had to clean the bathroom.
This worked swell when Steve was around to mitigate the tension. But when he was on a business trip, or out on a date, the Bed Schedule was a formality at best, and largely ignored at worst.
Meaning, the bets, deals, and favors began.
They started small: Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets dibs on those just-washed sheets. Flip a coin and see who has to rough it in the living room for the next two nights. Draw the shorter toothpick and try not to stab it in Eddie’s eye when he smirked.
But those were childish games. It was the deals and favors that proved more interesting.
“Can you help me punch holes in these?” you asked, voice high and urgent as you rushed to grab your color coded pie charts from the printer and clip them into a presentation binder.
He scoffed from the bedroom doorway, smelling of fryer oil and bacon grease. “What makes you think I want to help you after cooking for assholes all night?”
“Because you’re nice, and you love me.”
“I despise you,” he corrected, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He shifted his weight from foot to foot while you organized the pages, resisting the bait to give him what he wants, but you knew in your heart it was the only way to not be late for work this morning.
“Fine. You can have the bed tonight.”
He stayed put. “Nope. You know I’m working the overnight shift until Thursday.” That way, he slept while you were at work, and you slept while he was at work.
You glanced at the blue dawn creeping in from the window, then red the time on your watch. “Okay, fine, whatever! Have it all next week. I don’t give a fuck, just help me!”
Reveling in his victory, his plush lips stretched into a wide grin, showing too much teeth. He sauntered at his leisure, closing his eyes half-way, and gazing at you down the long slope of his nose. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he mocked.
You wanted to strangle him.
–And another time–
“Shut the fuck up for an entire day, and you can have to whole fucking closet,” Eddie snapped after your fifth instance of complaining about your professional office clothes not having available hangers due to him taking them for his old, ratty band tees.
Centering yourself, you brushed the dust off your favorite pants after finding them wadded up on the floor, and whispered, “I hope a rogue knife finds its way into your thumb again tomorrow.”
You swore you saw his hand flex out the corner of your eye, reacting to your curse.
–And the week after that–
You: come help me bring up these groceries
You: elevators broken
You: we can race up the stairs
You: loser washes dishes and takes out the trash
😒dumb: as long as the loser doesn’t cry about it when she sleeps on the couch
You: whatever
😒dumb: i’ll even give you a head start to make it fair
Struck with being that person grinning down at your phone in the stuffy underground parking garage, you gilded your thumbs over the keyboard in a fluttery tease.
You: you just want an excuse to stare at my ass
It took Eddie longer to reply, fumbling with his phone to find the emoji keyboard, only to send–
😒dumb: 🙄
–And the week after that–
“Get a life, you fucking loser,” you yelled from within the metal cylinder of the dryer, bent over on your hands and knees to wrestle your silk blouse free from where it was tangled in a rope of bedsheets, after you told him–explicitly–to never wash it because he’d do it wrong.
He merely watched you struggle from the sidelines, informing you, “You’re the one who asked me to do laundry. Don’t toss your precious, delicate shirts on the bathroom floor if you don’t want them thrown in with everything else. And by the way, I did my part of the deal, so the room is still mine tonight.” As a bonus, he added as he walked away, “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”
Your gums ached from how hard you clenched your teeth. You didn’t leave your blouse on the floor. He did, when he went hunting for his wallet he left in his jeans, and dumped all the clothes out of both baskets, mixing your work clothes with his.
That night, you locked him out of the bedroom. Fuck him.
————
After tireless days of the same back and forth, the juvenile deals and favors were losing their significance. Someone needed to up the ante. And a certain line you two skirted taunted you both, but remained uncrossed until..
————
The hallway leading to your apartment was stale with inactivity. Most people had been home for hours, or were back from bars and crashed on the couch, drooling on their girlfriend’s favorite decorative pillow–the kind with the pom poms. You thought of them with envy. Snoring, dreaming of some blissful shit like sheep hopping a pasture fence. But not you. Your 9 to 5 extended far past those numbers on the clock. It skipped right over them, just like you were skipped over in meetings, being told the extra burden you were taking on was good for the company, and the programs you were learning would be paid in experience. Bullshit. You were tired, and the last thing you needed was some long haired man stubbing his toe on the coffee table to wake you up–morning or night.
But perhaps you were blessed.
You opened the door to near-darkness. Not a lamp, or TV on inside to show someone was home. Not a groan, sigh, or blast of music funneling from a set of oversized headphones. Not a creak of movement from the hallway, or bathroom; surrendering your heartbeat as the loudest feedback.
It appeared you were alone. What a wonderful thing.
The muffled thud of the low pile rug under your heels gave way to silky sweeps of plush carpet welcoming your aching pantyhose-covered feet. Moving further into the apartment, you knew the shapes to avoid in the dim light coming from above the stove, casting the coffee table and scattered stools at the breakfast bar in shadow.
Groggy from exhaustion, you blinked at the spice cabinet door Eddie left open before leaving for his shift. During a conversation with Steve, you let it slip that people who leave the cabinet doors open annoy you, so of course he began leaving one open as a greeting when you came home.
You closed it with your right hand, swinging your laptop bag wildly, and before you could react, the strap caught the top of the glass sugar jar and knocked it over in a wincing crash. Luckily, after peeping one eye open, you assessed nothing broke, but now there was a streak of glittery white dust on the countertop you definitely weren’t going to clean up.
Maybe you could strike a deal with Eddie to wipe it up for you. It was–in a way–his fault, since he left the cabinet door open. If you didn’t need to close it, none of this would’ve happened..
You made a gagging sound.
Since when did your immediate thought process swing to him, and how do you get it to stop? It was bad enough you peeked around the corner into the hallway, praying, praying, praying the bedroom light was off, and feeling your body slump with utter relief when it was. Being on the same planet as him was hell, you didn’t need your private thoughts to linger on him, too.
Mentally dismissing Eddie Munson from your brainspace, you invited yourself into the bedroom. You sought the cushy mattress to cradle your weary body after a long day, and the nest of cozy fleece blankets to swaddle you as you drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the idiot’s pillow smelled far too much like him; cigarettes and cheap vanilla cologne combined with his hair products, burning your nose like toasted sugar. Despicable. Just the worst. You should exchange it with your own pillow, but you forgot it on the couch, and the couch was so very, very far away..
~~~
Eddie sat crouched in the alleyway outside of Benny’s Diner with a stubby cigarette balanced between his lips, blowing the smoke out in a slow exhale like a roll of fog on a misty morning. Cold emanated from the bricks pricking the expanse of his shoulders, and the night air chilled his damp shirt to his sticky skin, erupting goosebumps along his forearms. Standing around him were the other cooks on break. He didn’t share a common language with them outside of gestures, curse words, and kitchen lingo, but they gathered in a semi-circle as if to include him.
His shift was over. He’d technically clocked out, but he loitered until their vices were stomped under their shoes, and he snuffed his glowing ash on the wall behind him, and followed them inside.
Washing his hands first, he dried them on the towel tucked under the string of his apron tied around his waist, and set up a space on the flat top for him to occupy since the dinner rush had long since died, and the only patrons on the floor were drunks wandering in for greasy hashbrowns. He grabbed the four quart Cambro from the fridge beneath the prep area, and ladled enough batter for two large pancakes. Borrowing a station, he sliced up a ripe banana from the walk-in, and dropped it into a hot pan with a bit of butter, caramelizing them on the range while he waited for the pancakes to be flipped.
The guys behind him read off the few tickets, and carried their conversation from earlier. Eddie caught some of it, learning a few words here or there, but regardless of the language barrier, he knew they were talking about him. They were snickering with their heads together, pointing at the pancakes he was making despite being clocked out.
Eddie spoke with a sneaky grin, “If I make them for her, she’ll leave me the fuck alone on my day off.”
The guys may not have understood entirely what he meant, but his sunny disposition juxtaposed by his wry gaze communicated a universal plight: girls.
One of their hands landed hard between Eddie’s shoulder blades when they doubled over in a belly laugh, and the other one made whip-cracking sounds, calling him the same slang word he called the married cooks. It wasn’t worth it to attempt to correct them that these pancakes were not for his girl, but for his future migraine, so he hummed along with them, and flipped the pancakes with his right hand while tossing the bananas with a swift jerk of his left.
After their gossip, they went back to work, and Eddie grabbed a to-go container, loading it with the two pancakes and sliding the caramelized bananas on top. He brought it to the prep area to drizzle with chocolate sauce, and finished it off with heart-shaped strawberries, a dusting of powdered sugar, and a sprig of mint. He didn’t cut the strawberries that way with ulterior motives, it was just something he did when he had spare time in the morning. Cutting a wedge out of the stemmed top, and slicing them vertical. The customers liked it. It was cute, supposedly. There were no hidden intentions to him taking his time to place them just so around the box; it was merely him taking pride in how he plated his dish.
Clamping the container shut, he untied his apron, changed his shoes, and left out the back entrance, kicking pebbles under the crescent moon, and walking through the front door of the next building over. Gray concrete, a faulty elevator, ugly rugs to feign elegance, and high rise as far as ‘high rise when you live next a bunch of squatty buildings’ went. It was home, and it was blissfully dark inside.
Eddie worked his feet out of his tied-once-and-never-untied street shoes, and dropped his non-slip clogs next to them in a loud clatter.
He breathed. Inhaled deep. Sighed through his nose.
Quiet. Peaceful respite behind his eyelids.
The adrenaline ebbed. The hours of shouting and being shouted at, metal on metal clangs, timer beeps, and mechanical whirr of a ticket being printed out would never cease haunting his mind, but he should stop flinching from the imaginary sounds after a few hours. The pain stretching the length of his back should ease under a hot shower. The throbbing ache in his knees should lessen once he sleeps. The fatigue, like needles driven into his bones, should heal so he could be on his feet for thirteen more hours tomorrow.
Warmth worked its way beyond the calluses creating a barrier in his palm supporting the styrofoam container. Syrupy sweet hot sugar invaded his nostrils from the pancake bribe, battling the stench of his dried sweat and body odor baked into his t-shirt. The tiled entryway beneath his feet woke him out of his daze, and he slid his heavy-lidded gaze to the vacant couch; the comforter was folded, and the pillow was propped up, unslept on.
Briefly he wondered if you went out with your friends after work. But as he approached the kitchen, his dreams were crushed by a single closed cabinet door.
You were home.
You were home, and you weren’t on the couch, nor in the shower.
Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he hung his head back. In that position, he rolled the disappointment out of his shoulders, and braced them with something new.
Irritation.
Tamping the frustration in the pit of his stomach from bubbling up, he exhaled another calming breath, and opened the fridge, placing the pancakes exactly front and center amongst the fresh produce he was sometimes excited to create with, and sometimes slammed to the bottom of the trash when he was too exhausted and uninspired to do anything with their rotten corpses.
He prepared his expression into one of unbudging indifference. Flat, and unwilling to back down.
And yet, his nose scrunched when he pushed open the bedroom door, and there you were, as predicted, lounging amongst your hideous blankets spilling out from under you as if you were an opulent pearl nestled within an oyster shell.
The resentment built as he assessed your form delicately painted in a red glow from the ugly neon sign in the shape of a lipstick kiss tacked alongside his favorite band posters. He’d only lived with Steve long enough to feel comfortable decorating the blank walls, and you ruined the Rob Halford flow three days into your invasion. Your face was highlighted by the dim blue light of your laptop resting on your stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath, and you were haloed by the Himalayan salt lamp crowding the nightstand. It’s trendy, you explained.
With vehemence, he flickered the light switch.
You cringed from the bright assault, and clacked your fingers on the keyboard, pretending you weren’t dozing off a second ago. “Can you go away?”
“What’re you doing in here?”
Unimpressed by his tone, you glazed your response in insolence. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m minding my own business.” At that, your attitude was solidified, along with how this interaction would go.
Eddie stared at you for a long minute. Not once did you acknowledge him. He watched your eyes dart across the screen, probably watching one of those Youtube videos where girls walked around exciting cities with a camera way too close to their face, and he dragged his gaze downwards, noticing you were still in your work clothes; though, your blouse and skirt were disheveled, and your pantyhose were discarded on the floor, still holding the vague shape of your legs, resembling a flattened rotisserie chicken.
He focused on your eyes again. Bloodshot, rimmed in red with a suggestion of water clinging to the outer corners where your eyelashes met, and sporting a hefty burden of bags beneath them.
“It’s Wednesday,” he reminded you, voice heavy in his chest, but sounding scratchy, and hollow. His throat was shot.
“Mm,” you hummed and glanced at the clock in the corner of your screen, “it’s Thursday, actually.”
White hot anger boiled in his veins, striking his skin like a leather lash. It simmered, popped, sizzled, boiled over. The yelling, the timers, the cacophonous clanging. The ticket machine, the keyboard, the stinging cut on his thumb. Smug fucking brat laying in his bed on his night to have it. It was sudden, it was stark, and it was hatred.
“Make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“A fucking deal,” he repeated. “You know, like we’ve been making?” He stopped himself short of calling you a dirty name, but you must’ve gathered it from his tongue’s hesitation, because you turned your head a few degrees to challenge his temper.
“Oh, lucky for you, there was a two-for-one deal at the store.”
You waved two middle fingers at him, showing a bit of teeth with your crooked grin.
The hatred festered, but not as vicious. The anger was there–oh, the anger was there–but the energy to keep this going hit its peak, and fizzled. There was no sense in reasoning with you. The pancakes in the fridge were for a different occasion, he couldn’t waste them on this, and he was too tired to come up with his own bet, deal, or favor. “Just think of something so we can get this over with,” he nearly begged.
After some consideration, you held your fist out for rock, paper, scissors.
“Where’s the option for a gun in my mouth?”
“Harsh,” you pouted. Instead, you pointed at the 20 sided die on the desk. He inclined his head, shaking it with a slow sort of intention, eyes wide to express his warning to knock it off, and give him a true answer, something to make this worthwhile.
Finding the whole ordeal dull, you returned your attention to your laptop, pressing the white earbud into your ear before unpausing the video.
It took seconds off his life, but you finally spoke again.
“How long were you in prison? Six years? Bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen one of these in the flesh.” Due to your satin cream blouse being unbuttoned at the neck, you dipped your thumb under the collar, and traced the vibrant temptation of your red bra strap in a long, deliberate stroke. You hooked the soft pad of your thumb under the luxury, and brought it out for his viewing pleasure. A moment later, you snapped it to your skin, and went back to typing, not once breaking concentration with your video.
Eddie’s fascination, however, was trained on the dainty crimson gift slipping under the shimmery cream, sliding against the soft slope of your shoulder.
Heat thrummed in his chest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, sloshing his blood like viscous tidal waves, muting the clacky sound of your keyboard. Anger mixed with something more, something worse. It warmed his cheeks, and reignited the cold sweat prickling his back. It honed his curiosity, sinking every detail of the second tortoiseshell button on your blouse into his mind. Memorizing how the fabric around it went taut, and glinted honey at the height of your breath. Noticing how the bottom of your shirt was wrinkled and pulled slack, but still tucked into your pencil skirt. Remembering how the tight material hugged your thighs when you traipsed around the apartment. Although, the navy blue number was less defined now, fitting looser around your hips.
He didn’t know how long he was fixated by your clothing, until you sighed.
“Not enough for you?”
You asked it with forced casualness, he could tell. Your voice was too even, tone too polite, eyebrows too raised in mock indifference. You were introducing a line that had yet to be crossed. A door which, when opened, would give access to more possibilities than the usual bets, deals, and favors. An enticing offer, and he didn’t deny the nervous flutter of intrigue arousing his blood elsewhere.
But past the line was dangerous territory. Right? That’s where things got muddied, and feelings got involved.
Or maybe not. Because, above all else, he hated you, and you hated him.
This was a deal like any other.
“Maybe this’ll help,” you said, never breaking eyesight from the screen, its colors reflecting in your pupils.
You were the epitome of cool pinching the blouse between your fingers and slotting the buttons through the holes one after the other. Down, down, down to your navel, tugging either side of the shirt open, letting the elegant cream frame the aggressive scarlet.
Eddie was taken off guard.
The bra was more akin to lingerie than he expected. Its cups contained you like a poorly kept secret. Curves of red peonies covered your nipples–hard bud pressing against the center of the flower from the thrill of exploring a new end to your daily arguments. Your areolas peeked from between the petals, where the intricate lacework went see through, granting him a preview to the smooth flesh beneath.
Click clack, click clack, space bar, space bar, space bar, he swore you pressed your arms together to make your breasts rounder. Actually, he didn’t need to second guess. He saw the cusp of cleavage squish before his very eyes.
“Satisfied?” you inquired.
No, he ached.
The voice in his head was so automatic, so sure, he didn’t question it, either.
When he refused to verbalize the things which made him nauseous, his opulent pearl rolled onto her shoulder and lifted the laptop the pillow, turning over onto her stomach to engage with it solely, circling a manicured fingernail over the trackpad, and clicking.
To his surprise, the video on screen wasn’t of the vapid people you watched, but of a troubleshooting guide to the program your company was having you learn in order to teach it to the higher ups next week. (Or so he heard when you told Steve yesterday.) You tabbed out of the video, fixed a property in a column, checked the statistic it was evaluating, and added in an aesthetically pleasing green color before tabbing back.
He couldn’t parse how he felt about you having to do more thankless tasks off the clock, especially when you were clearly tired, but something else stole the last of his fiery anger, and doused his willpower to resist a glance.
Your habit of unzipping your skirt as soon as you walked into the apartment proved evident when you rolled over. The silky polyester lining slipped against your skin, shifting the long zipper from your hip to your backside. The halves parted, showing the end of the cream blouse, and a peek of skin. You adjusted how you laid, rocking your hips back and forth until you sank into the plush blankets, and propped your chin in your palm when you weren’t typing. Small movements working the skirt higher, and higher, bunching the fabric around the fat of your ass. Squirming, and stretching, tugging on your blouse, pulling, pulling, blouse, skirt, blouse, skirt, and then he saw it..
Red.
Delicate, feminine.
Tucked, hidden from anyone’s view but his, were the matching red panties to your bra. Trapped in a valley between thighs and ass, and stretching over the swell of your heat, embellishing the mouth watering desire in opaque lace strained firm against the outline of his treasure.
Eddie swallowed.
“Why’re you still in here?” you asked with a bite of annoyance. “You got to see a girl’s bra for the first time ever, probably. You should be celebrating, throwing yourself a party. In the living room. On the couch.”
The anger had returned like a slap of reality across his cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, remembering why he loathed you with every fiber of his being. “I’ve seen a bra before.”
“Pictures don’t count.”
“Whatever, bitch.”
Your body jolted with a snort, and he flung open the door hard enough for it to bounce off the door stop. He heard your infuriating inhale, and slapped the lightswitch off, shutting the door behind him with excessive force before you could ask more demands of him. Gladly, he closed himself out of his own bedroom. The physical barrier under his trembling fist had never felt better, still gripping the knob as if he’d go back in there.
He wouldn’t.
He let go of the chilled metal and stalked down the hall, curbing himself from stomping out his frustration, only to throw himself onto the couch. Stomach burning with hunger, hatred. Chest heaving with rage. Pulse rising in his throat, beating against the ball chain necklace he wore. Breathing so hard, sounding as if he’d ran laps before collapsing onto his bed for the night, crossing his arms to squeeze his biceps, massaging his fingers down the muscle. Occupying himself. Distracting himself.
It wasn’t working.
He was mad.
Furious.
Draping his hand over his eyes, he gave himself a moment to make a decision, and pushed his bangs off his forehead. They stayed in their gravity defying position due to the oil. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself of this day, and go to sleep. But he couldn’t.
The fever in his veins was too distracting. He needed to take care of it. Get rid of it.
Sitting up, he unfolded the comforter from the end of the couch, and propped the pillow against the armrest to angle his head slightly up, where he could see the hallway.
From his front pocket, he collected his phone and laid it on his stomach while he unbuttoned his pants, pinching the waistband together and pulling the zipper down, sighing through his nose at the relief of the lines he was crossing.
He grasped his phone and brought it close to his face. Cupped in one palm, and using the other hand to tap it twice. A streak of perspiration was left on the screen where he swiped in his passcode, using his index finger to open a private browser and type in a porn site. Any porn site. Whichever variation of the word porn + noun he thought of first. It didn’t matter much to him; that’s not where his preferences lie.
office worker
co-worker
secretary
office worker tight skirt
office worker pov skirt grinding
His brain went stupid for synonyms trying to narrow down his search. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew the ultra HD, professionally lit, fakey acting wasn’t it. He scrolled, and scrolled. Narrowed his search again. Ticked off boxes on the side. Tried broader genres. Went back to the results he was on, and traveled down the rabbit hole a few more pages until, at last, he found what suited him.
The thumbnail appeared promising. Dimly lit, sorta bad quality, and clearly shot at home with a woman whose body type wasn’t far off from what he was hoping for. He even appreciated the visual similarities in the amateur actress’ navy blue skirt, and off-white blouse. As long as he scrolled down a tad to crop out her face, it was perfect. Plus, it was easier to insert himself into the scene that way.
He clicked it, and– ”Jesus Christ,” he turned down the volume as quickly as he could, accidentally pressing down the two buttons on the side that took a screenshot and saved it to his gallery.
The video started a little further into the act than he anticipated.
Such a fucking idiot, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Sitting in thick silence, he waited to see if you’d heard, and once his face calmed of the embarrassed flush stinging his cheeks, he moved on.
Eddie worked his right hand under the comforter, but heeded his boxers as a layer of separation. At the first contact with the parts of him he denied aching for the bane of his existence, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Gently, he raked his fingernails down the base of his shaft, and over his balls. He cupped them. Felt their heft. Cradled them and dragged them softly upwards, letting them fall and stretch before repeating the motion, enjoying the tickly sensation of being the first thing he touched. His most sensitive, most susceptible part of himself. Meanly ignoring the other part of him twitching, throbbing, begging to be catered to.
He kept some fraction of his brain alert to the hallway, senses sharpened by the spike of adrenaline, listening out for any sound of you exiting the room. But most of him was focused on hitting the play button, sticking to his decision that he couldn’t wait to do this in the shower. He needed it now.
It started with the woman already in motion. Shot from the guy’s point of view laying on the bed, his obvious hardon pressing through his slacks into her pussy grinding down on him. Her skirt lifted with each motion, showing her black underwear. Not that he was complaining they weren’t red, but he didn’t concentrate on them.
He switched from playing with his balls to gripping his cock. Finally. It buzzed with the rush of pleasure, harder than it had ever been, even in his youth. His fingers hardly met through his boxers, but he encircled them the best he could, and started with fast, desperate, stunted strokes, getting himself to where the guy in the video was in a matter of pent-up seconds, clenching his ass to buck his hips up. Heart pounding. Inhales shaky from the speed at which he took care of his problem, exhales interrupted by muted huffs.
Maybe he should be embarrassed, but it didn’t take him long to feel that encouragement to keep going, keep going, keep going. Where each frantic pump along his length was better than the last. Where each accidental graze of his fingers over the lipped edge of his tip sprinted towards his bliss.
In the video, the woman dipped a finger between her lips and moved her panties aside.
There was a low hum in the back of his throat, engrossed by the wet warmth opposed to his dry fist.
Metal knob turning–door creaking–carpet groaning, step, step, step–
It was a fucking miracle he managed to close out of the window in his panic. His thumb missed it the first two times as fear coated him in a cold sweat, and the phone fell out of his palm, smacking him in the chin as you rounded the corner.
You didn’t spare him the time of day as you walked into the kitchen and got a glass from the cabinet. Didn’t bother looking at him as you stood at the fridge with your hip cocked out, holding the cup under the outer dispenser and depressing the button for ice.
The fridge made a mechanical whirr, and filled your glass. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk, the ice cubes tinked into the cup for the longest seconds of his life. His hand was frozen mid-tug on his dick, and you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else. Truly, it hardly covered your ass. It clung to your hips, brushed the height of your thighs, and suddenly, he was checking how obvious the bulk of the comforter was over his lap, and if it creased when he moved his hand upwards.
Nothing. Not a fold out of place. He could keep it up. Stroke, by stroke, brushing his fingers over the head only, testing his limits to keep discreet while you switched to the other spout on the fridge for water.
Even when you turned to him, he massaged himself over his boxers, soaking the sticky slick beads of precum into the fabric.
“What?”
Your tone didn’t deter him from tracing the underside of his swollen head, caressing the glans with the same sort of sentiment he experienced in the homemade porn between a real couple–all gentle and nice.
He mustered enough brain cells to respond, “What? I’m already sleeping on the couch. Can’t you leave me alone for one night? Or are you that desperate for attention?”
None the wiser, you took a sip from your glass, and folded your other arm across your stomach, making it obvious from the natural sway that you weren’t wearing a bra. Probably weren’t wearing panties either..
Swallowing the ice cold water with a satisfied ‘ah’, you went on your merry way. “Just came to gawk at the bridge troll, is all. Night night!” Your annoying farewell was followed by the creak of the door, and the faint click of it closing.
What a fucking irritating person.
The anger bristled again. Definitely anger. It was there, lurking, when he rubbed at the sore spot on his chin and picked up his phone, unlocking it to stare at the homescreen.
There was no patience within him to find the video. Besides, the sanitized professional thumbnails on the homepage were enough to have him dropping his phone to the cushion crevices beside him, surrendering himself to his imagination. Nothing lived up to the scenarios in his head, anyway.
Before getting ahead of himself, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, and gripped himself wholly. There was no sense in denying what he wanted: the raw desire of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, not caring about creating a mess. It could be cleaned up later. He needed this. Now.
He immersed himself in the fantasy.
The visuals took place minutes ago, if he hadn’t backed down. It was based on you refusing to give him the bed, and instead of walking away from your bratty attitude, he lifted his chin, and broadened his chest with a confidence he didn’t possess. Fantasy Eddie had the courage to kneel on the mattress like he belonged there. Your body would dip, rock towards his imposing knees straddling either side of your calves, and in his strongest dreams, he acted out what should’ve happened.
If he had his way, he would begin with your hips. A single strong palm on the curve would have you hiking them up to greet him, and he was a gentleman. As soon as you presented him with the opportunity, he was scrambling to spread your legs so he could dip between them, eager to please. He wanted to know the sensation of coarse red lace scratching across his tongue; it would be a novelty only he would know. His hands would be on your upper thighs, bringing you closer, closer, to where his mouth awaited you. Persuading your face to the sheets. Putting a wicked arch in your back, granting him permission.
He’d angle his mouth to your clothed clit and collect spit to his bottom lip, parting, and lapping his tongue over the pretty thing, suckling it through the fabric. His nose would be to your cunt, inhaling the musky pheromones. Didn’t matter how long you’d been at work, proving yourself to people who would never appreciate you like he did. He cherished every bit of you so much. The heady scent intoxicated him like a drug, the dimples when he smashed the fat of your ass around his face, your silly whine when he pressed kisses up your pretty pussy. The anger was gone. Like that, he adored you. After all, you craved him. And it’d been a long time since he was wanted. It felt nice to not be rejected.
Eddie, Fantasy You gasped when the wet sound of him sucking your clit through your panties grew in fervor. He was drunk on you. Trying hard. Giving more. Licking at the dark patch he created. God, he loved it. He loved the evidence. He could suckle, moan, flatten his tongue like torture and just breathe on you until he fell asleep, waking up to nudge his teeth over the sensitive areas you presented to him. Spending hours getting you to your peak, over and over.
But in reality, he was approaching his end rather quickly.
My turn, sweetheart, he regretfully informed you.
Getting to his knees, he positioned himself behind you. His cock slotted so nicely against you; red lace meeting unzipped gray uniform pants, and he wasted no time stoking the flames from where he left off.
He clapped your cheeks around the hard outline of his cock. His black boxers stretched to their limits to contain him. There was a dark patch at the tip peeking out between your ass, growing with each slow, assertive grind he committed to, fucking himself into the curve of your cunt with ragged breaths. Losing himself. Mouth agape, and eyebrows pinched as his needy head was swallowed when he rocked his hips back, and reappeared with a rough thrust.
Again, it didn’t take long until he needed a break to make himself last longer.
He draped his weight over you as he slid his rough, calloused palms up the backs of your thighs, creating goosebumps along the sensitive flesh on his way to your sorry excuse for skirt. He bunched the pitiful thing to your waist, and reached for the hem of your shirt.
You hummed in approval, pressing against his lap.
It was hard to balance, but you supported him as he yanked your blouse up–sucking in a sharp breath when you moaned, and rutted yourself on his length–and he brushed his fingers along your soft skin in search for the bra clasp, and when he found it, he pulled the band tight. The latch gave. He caught sudden heft in his palm, cupping you and the bra together, massaging lightly until your nipple slotted between the base of two of his fingers, and he applied the gentlest pressure.
Oh fuck, you whined so nicely for him.
They’re extra sensitive after being caged all day, you explained.
Yeah? Does it feel good?
You nodded, cheek smashed against the wrinkled sheets.
He pinched harder.
Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips, spilling in a sticky string as you dragged your head in another nod, heavy-lidded eyes just visible through your lashes, open mouth panting for him.
True satisfaction spread like weightlessness from the pit of anger in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to be making you feel good, not the person ruining the one place he found peace after six years of paranoia, but here he was, wishing the taste of your pussy lasted longer in his mouth. Here he was, anchoring his forearm alongside yours, gripping the same sheet you gripped while he beared his weight down on you, and pressed kisses to your clothed shoulders.
His other hand was trapped between you and the bed, but each pulse around your nipple was another long stroke on his cock.
The scene had been set. The build up and story line were crafted. Now, he could play.
He worked kisses under your collar, tasting the sheen of sweat at your hairline, leaving trails of spit to cool as he lolled his head on top of yours, resting his forehead amongst your hair, and he put his lips to the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver beneath him.
Do you think you can treat me that way, and get away with it? Fantasy Him asked. Think you can boss me around whenever you want? He punctuated his question with a hard, unexpected thrust, earning a gasp from your pretty mouth.
Turn over. He didn’t command it verbally, but when he took away his hand to smack the side of your ass, and sat back, you were aware of his unstated switch in position.
You laid on your back, legs spread for him. Skirt bunched around your hips, blouse fallen open, except for the one button remaining. He grasped his cock, and stroked himself through his boxers for you. His brows were drawn together in a gentle question, gaze locked onto yours. This was supposed to be about him, but he still asked, Is this okay? Is this what you want?
The source of his anger, his rage, his frustration–all the blame, burdens, and negativity he attributed to a single woman–opened her arms to him, and nodded.
He passed over your pussy to praise kisses to your stomach. Deft fingers working to undo the last button on your blouse, and explore upwards. Wet smacks of his sloppy gifts arched your back the higher he traveled, molding his large hands to your body. Brushing his rough fingers to the junction of your inner thigh and hip, and spreading you open so your pussy swallowed the fabric, wedging the red lace tight to your clit for later. Up, up, his kisses covered you, until he nosed at the underwire of your bra, and lifted it out of the way.
Fuck, Eddie.
You pushed his hair out of his face. The shorter curls fell from the low bun at his nape, and you tucked them behind his ear so you could watch his tongue lap and swirl at your nipple. Your fluttery moans were heaven, as were your tits being shoved in his mouth. You squirmed for him, clamored for him. You wanted him, needed him. Did you care that his hair was greasy? Did you care that dried salt crystals from sweat scratched your fingers when you cradled his jaw? Did you care about his smell from thirteen hours of being in a hot kitchen when you cupped him under the armpits, encouraging him with a buck of your hips to get back to business?
He supposed not, since it was his fantasy.
But just like reality, you were trying to boss him around.
Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?
You could hardly meet his gaze, eyes so heavy with lust you couldn’t keep them open long enough to beg.
He aligned himself, nudging the tip of his cock to your clit, and he savored the experience of watching the bliss wash over you. It took him a beat to realize, but he moaned in response to your moan. Watching you react from where he picked up his head from your chest, memorizing the fake vision of your face losing the usual harsh distaste for him. Your lips were better this way–lush, and making an effort to sound out his name as he drew his hips back–not sneering because you had the displeasure of asking him a question.
Still, he drove forward with haste. Cotton on lace. Layers of separation. Anything else was too intimate for how he wanted to fuck you, rough and fast, caring only about himself and not about your poor neglected clit, swollen and pleading for his soft tongue, only to get rough, unmeasured thrusts. Messy, and unintentional, and denying. Until you made them work for you.
You used the meat of his shoulders as leverage. Digging your fingers in, holding tight as you rocked with him and raised your legs, wrapping them around his ass. The squeeze of your thighs, and pressure built from your locked ankles tipped you into a better position, and now, his entire length was flush to your clit, not simply passing over the top of it.
All of him was touching you, touching you, touching you. Trapping his cock between your stomachs, damp with reignited sweat. Back to rutting against one another at a desperate pace, chasing the tension, the high. The snap of his hips. Your stuttered groans for more. The anger, the hatred. Festering under the surface, bubbling in your insolence. Present in his teeth grazing your throat, nipping at the pulse, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting.
You’re gonna make me cum. Even Fantasy You said it in a lower register, reaching where the molten resentment laid dormant.
He found the same gravelly animosity and warned you, “I’m too close, I’m too close.”
You cradled him tighter, burying your heads in each other’s embrace. Muscles quivering from effort, burning with each grind, tensing under curious hands finding new places to cling to, curves to admire. Until they stayed put.
Nails bit flesh. Strong fingers dug painfully at bone. Mouths fell open. Eyes closed. Writhing flesh on fabric, and flesh, you trembled under him.
I’m–mm, Eddie–I’m cumming–
His thrusts faltered, jerking into short bursts, and his gracious moans went high and tight in his throat, spilling out as he panted, “You make me feel so good, baby. Fucked you so good. I can’t–I’m cumming–fuck–”
Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–
–”Fuck,” he babbled aloud.
The climax took him to the dark apartment. The overwhelming shadows of sleeping in the lonely living room on the flat couch under an extra blanket not yet broken of its factory starch, scratchy on the skin. His muscles were still tensed into him curling in on himself, lifting his aching neck and shoulders off the pillow for a few more pumps of his hand sliding over his slick shaft, spreading the warmth oozing towards his hip, no doubt tangling the curly thatch of hair above the base. In lip-biting silence, he stroked himself, not daring to breathe after he knew he said something out loud from his imagination. He listened. Eyes straining to see the hallway.
His bangs stuck to the heavy sweat on his forehead.
His entire body was heated beyond belief.
Anticipation sat heavy on his tongue.
But as he came down from his peak, nothing happened. He stayed lonely. His heartbeat pounded against the guitar pick sticking to his chest, and that was it. Now his head was cleared of distractions, and he could sleep. The fantasy was a fantasy, and in this reality, he wouldn’t do this again. It was too weird to muddy the multitude of negative feelings he had for you with.. whatever this was.
A release, that’s what this was.
Kicking the blanket off, he swung his legs to the side to sit up, socked feet softened by the plush carpet. He pressed his palm over the sticky substance dripping downward, and soaked it up to the best of his ability. And as his cum hit the fresh air, and his inhale was cut short as he smelled his shirt, he thought about the shower he needed. And he thought about the dark patch on his boxers. And he thought about his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom.
Looking down, he inspected his gray pants, and groaned.
They were ruined.
So, so ruined and obvious as to what he was doing.
There was no way he could go into there and grab new clothes for a shower. The thought of facing you after this, and you seeing him in this pathetic state–and God, if you knew it was because of you, and because he couldn’t control himself–he’d rather die than admit you did this to him.
Fuck.
Couldn’t even go to his own room for some fucking clothes so he could shower after working all day.
Yeah, that confirmed it. He fucking hated you.
Hated you even more when he thought about you sleeping on his mattress, wrapped snug in his bedsheets wearing only a t-shirt with nothing else to cover you, and his dick twitched again for that red lace he knew was discarded in the laundry basket.
“Fuck my life.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#linecook!eddie#roommate!eddie#ex-con!eddie
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What They Fantasize Doing With You🕹💋⛓ [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
Hey it's Lunadream♥️ This is gonna to be a reading on the things your person fantasizes doing with you😏♨️ hope you find your message💋
(This one gets spicy🔥 Darker themes included.)
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~♥️🔥
Pile 1👠
Pile 2🖤
Pile 3🗣
Pile 4🍷
Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 😘🔥♥️
Pile 1👠
Sign energy: Naive, First love, Vent, Yin, Heat, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Moon, Neptune, Aries, 👈😳⬜💜
💋Your person's energy: Ahh my pile 1's person is so magnetic and intense, I sense you guys have a strong attraction to your person because like they're so gorgeous omg😍♥️ Scorpio, Sagittarius, Cancer, Pisces and Aries is prominent placements in their chart. Omg my pile 1's your person is very hot, but also soft in some ways. I'm getting some emotional energy from your person, they may have a lot of negative feelings they want to let off their chest.😥 Deep and passionate individual, they feel so much and so fast. For some of you this person may be your first love or vice versa, I feel like one of you fell in love very fast with the other and the feelings only grew from there🖤 I feel like your person is pretends to be unaware of how suggestive or naughty they act, but OMG know very well what they're doing😭😈 Also they could have muscles/toned body or have a lot of endurance (for whatever reason🙄❗) They fantasize often and have a big heart. Definitely giving off siren vibes, they could often wear black or like that color. My pile 1's can't deny this person is attractive, like they pull you in deep. They make you blush, and overheat.🥵♨️ Purple or white may be significant to your person. I'm getting they are the yin to your yang kind of thing, the darkness to your light.☯🖤
🕹What they fantasize doing with you: Fishing, Community, Praise, Mine, Compulsive, Leo, 1st house, Aries, Chiron, Vertex, 🦂😩🤫👢 Okay okay okay physical thoughts of you rn.🥵🧤♨️ They want your attention and praise omg like they imagine you telling them they did good or complimenting them ahh this is something they really want❤ Also I just saw they imagine showing you off to their circle of friends/coworkers/ect. Like showing you to them. They fantasize about calling you theirs, and taking you for themselves. But also!! They definitely have some dark thoughts of my pile 1's though, like physical desires. They often fantasize of your back, shoulders and hair, they honestly fetishize your whole body tbh.💋 They imagine touching you nonstop, and making you saying their name. They wanna be rough with you but also heal you at the same time🥺 They really imagine dominating and also getting you on your back OML.🥵🔥 Also I feel like they fantasize stepping on you or you stepping on them haha, definitely making you submit to them or getting your praise. I'm also getting that your person is hooked on these imagines of you, like they have these thoughts compulsively like they just come out.😳 WTF pile 1 your person is so naughty for you?!?? They imagine the thought of you loudly praising them while they make you theirs, holding you down and going hard on you.🥵🥵😈
📮Messages from your person: I'm holding back, I'll support for you, I want to sweep you off your feet, Do you want to? I care about you, I want to surprise you, I didn't used to feel this way, You're too hot to be sad. (Awww🥺❤) Extra cards: Class, Fine, Release, Skin, Date
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the heels emoji~👠 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🔥
Pile 2🖤
Sign energy: Blind, Stomach, Relationship, Child, Heard, Moon, 7th house, Sagittarius, 5th house, Eros, 🛩🔧🧽☔
💋Your person's energy: Your person is giving such fun and spontaneous energy, they like to be wild🐅 They may be less aware of others emotions because they aren't very serious, but one thing that makes them very nervous is commitment. The type to rather have a quick fling because they are scared of being in a long-term relationship with someone.🙊 They can be a little immature I'm hearing, but they just prefer adventure and freedom in life.✈ They could be from abroad or like to travel, this could be someone you aren't ready to commit to because you aren't sure they are ready for it.🚫💍 They seem a little flighty, because they are indecisive. Some of you this person is a technician or fixes things, perhaps their love life needs fixing. I feel like they are a very horny person, looking for a good time not a serious commitment. They have a youthful energy about them despite their age, very curious and bright still. The type to be in a friends with benefits type of situation.🤪 They have dated around I'm hearing, they are still exploring through all the potential romantic options. They are experimenting and seeing what sticks, also they may be a very flirtatious person.🍒🔥
🕹What they fantasize doing with you: Romance, Dare, Secret admirer, Top, Insanity, 5th house, Vertex, 8th house, 6th house, Leo, ♓🩰🌪⛪ Omg they wanna be in control of you especially with intimacy👅💦 Like they are so wild they just want to crawl on top of you and have some wild fun😭😭 Your person imagines all sorts of stuff with you, like wild naughty things. Kneeling on you and doing it over and over, owning you good⚠️🥵 You make them crazy and they like it, they want it to be risky and unforgettable. Your person sees an opportunity for naughty mischief with you, and they can't say no to those things. These thoughts of you may be very secret or remain a mystery, you will find out the closer you get😗 They want to tie your feet together wtf and make you high from their acts I mean an outer body experience😳 Making you forget who you are, they want to do things that give you chills. They want to dare you to do all sorts of crazy stuff with them, risky things. Your person imagines going on wild dates with you, they really wanna be admired. My pile 2's your person imagines some unholy things with you👿 They fantasize of pleasurable experiences with you, flirting and teasing.😝 They wouldn't mind to thrill you in bed if they could.🛏💋
📮Messages from your person: I hate seeing you like this, There's distance between us, If I can't have you, I can't help myself, I would let you, You can't control yourself, I can't believe it, You're wrong (My oh my🥵🔥) Extra cards: Hug from behind, Unseen, Open, Performance, Nightmare
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the black heart emoji~🖤 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🔥
Pile 3🗣
Sign energy: Seduction, Trip, Capricorn, Swan, Gifts, Mercury, Earth, 1st house, Eros, Aquarius, 🤯⬛🪐🦅
💋Your person's energy: Ahh such hot energy in here, your person is really attractive especially their mind😫🖤 I can literally see pile 3 tripping over when they see them, like this person is so magnetic and their body language draws you in. You are in awe of this person, the way they look and speak. Omg and their silent gaze is so haunting for you😝👀 Your person is seductive and intelligent, lol they physically turn you on. They could be a Capricorn rising or saturnian, they pack quite the package too I'm hearing😏🙊 Black is so their color, they just look so classy and gorgeous in it.🖤 For some of my pile 4's this person may be in business or take business trips often, also I'm seeing they may dress in funeral attire and travel to those events recently. They are so elegant and hot omg😭 Definitely remind me of an eagle, like they could sweep you off your feet. This person speaks so well especially in large groups/online, like they are so savvy and quick witted.💬💫 Darker hair possibly, I can't stop imagining this person in a suit LMAO😂😂 They could be very well off or give gifts often to people. Very mature vibes to your person, they could be older or act that way.💅
🕹What they fantasize doing with you: Perfectionist, The little mermaid, Bend, Boy, Society, Gemini, Aries, Chiron, Water, Moon, 🦋👑🌇🌙 Ahh okay😍 So your person imagines winning you a bit, they want to be the lead interest for you. Also they sort of want to control your emotions, and they imagine bending you to their will (metaphor or not🥵). They want to change you in a positive direction, and shift your focus on what really matters. They fantasize making you submit to them and do anything for them that's just what they imagine of you. I think your person expects a lot from you, also some you might have Gemini placements It just sort of came out. Thoughts of dominating you come to your person's mind, moving your body with their hands (like not even letting you move yourself🥵🧤) Omg they are kinda naughty ngl😰 They have some really aggresive fantasies of you like they aren't the type to act on them but like still it's there.💭 They also may think of ways to be their best self for you, like they put a lot of pressure on themselves. I feel like they have a standard set to live up to, it could be from society or what is expected of them by people around them. They want to rule your body I'm hearing🥵🥵 They see you as someone moldable to them and it is very tempting, they fantasize doing as they please with you♨️⛓
📮Messages from your person: Why so serious? I've heard others talk about you, I can't handle it, I don't want to decieve you, It's not my problem, No one loves me like you do, You're so talented, When you look at me (Haha my pile 3's your person has it good for you, they love the way you look at them😍) Extra cards: Beach, One of a kind, Fancy, Practice, Alien (Ohh they wish they could do some things on the beach with you too.🏖🥵😈🩱💦
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the speaking emoji~🗣 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🔥
Pile 4🍷
Sign energy: Easy, Insanity, Hidden, Meaning, Ability, South node, Fire, Earth, Saturn, Sun, 🦴👫🦊🚫
💋Your person's energy: Okay so your person is very well kept and organized I'm hearing, they could be mentally well organized as well like their thoughts are all sorted out.😌💭 They could be someone from your past, maybe they inspire you in some ways. Saturn-Sun aspects in their chart. They have a side to them they keep tucked away, a wilder side so to speak.🔥 My pile 4's your person could be very sneaky or methodical not necessarily in a bad way, I just think they are very analytical. You or them could feel like the other drives you crazy, but hide it. Earth placements. Their bones are noticable, may have strong bone structure, I'm hearing they aren't very moldable and more so stuck in their ways. You can't exactly waver them, they have to make a decision on their own. Saturnian vibes💫 I am seeing for a small percent in this pile may be in a relationship with this person, I mean like I dating. Your person analyzes everything you do, tries to figure you out. They are great at puzzles I'm hearing🧩 Some of you don't know this person or are hidden from them in some way. Your person is good at a lot of things too (I mean they have many abilities🥵🛏)
🕹What they fantasize doing with you: Restaurant, Telepathy, Waist, Hug from behind, Innovation, Leo, Pisces, 11th house, Moon, Jupiter, 🎪🏚❄⛈ Ahh okay🙈 So your person has a lot of cure fantasies about you, others are much more intense😳 They want to hug you aww and also pull you close to them, like grab your waist and hold you to their chest.😍❤ So romantic my pile 4's!! They imagine showing off to you, I mean like putting on a grand show for you🥴👑 ripping their shirt off or yours, haha they just want a load of fun.🚀 Also this is crazy like your person thinks about getting their fill of your 🍑 like wow😰😰 They fantasize your lower half so much like they're addicted to it, oml and grabbing you there? They imagine doing that too😈😈 They want to be a freak for you, and imagine themselves doing anything you ask them to. They want a LOT of attention from you, also connecting on a deeper level. Your person wishes they could read your mind, so they would know exactly what pleases you🥵 Aww they want to make you feel loved and cared for too, they don't want my pile 4's to ever feel abandoned🥺❤ They definitely imagine holding you tight and enjoying every second with you in their arms. Such.sweet and hot relationship for my pile 4's!!
📮Messages from your person: I'm mad at you, Let the tables turn, Leave me out of it, I want to please you, Think happy thoughts, Give me attention, I'm addicted, Please don't hide your pain (Omg this all adds up how they feel about you my pile 4's!!😍) Extra cards: Competition, Punish, Surface, Vertex, Remedy
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the wine emoji~🍷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🔥
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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We Become We
pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note: i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡
Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it?
You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.
Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee.
(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”
“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)
Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you.
And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers.
Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls.
You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.”
You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them.
Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth.
Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row?
Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.
That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?
Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?
You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face.
It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh.
Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief.
And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.
It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.
The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep.
…
Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.
You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too.
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taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn
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