#this has been half done for a while now but finally pushed through once A Phantom Neuroma was all finished | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

persevereforahappyending · 2 months ago

Text

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #no man's land

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 month ago

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Broken Mind | Josh Washington x Reader

......

Another day, another Until Dawn rewrite by yours truly <3

I've got Rami Malek on the brain again so I decided to revise this old 2016 fic I wrote about Josh being accompanied by Reader in the shed (after his prank reveal). Changed a few things around and added stuff from the prologue, but all in all the plot's the same (except they're together)

Anyways enjoy!

......

"Hey, [y/n]. Got a special delivery for you."

Hearing the quiet giggles of the Washington sisters, you looked up from your phone and smiled upon seeing your boyfriend being held up by the two of them.

He looked plastered as hell and half-asleep, but his eyes were slightly open. The moment they landed on you, lopsided grin spread across his lips.

"[Y/n]...baby...?"

"Yes. It's me, Josh." With a chuckle, you put down your phone and assisted the girls in helping him lay on the sofa. You decided to let him rest on top of you, seeing as he already had his arms wrapped around your torso. "Jeez, so clingy, huh? How much did you drink?"

"Mhm...I forgot.." His words were slurred.

"Of course you did." Putting your arms around him, you lightly scratched at his scalp with your fingertips, hearing his hums of content as he looked to his sisters.

While Hannah left, Beth smiled back and took a picture of him being all cuddly with you, reminding herself to send to you later. After that, she finally left you both alone.

"They take good care of you."

"Yeah..they're..the best." Josh mumbled tiredly into your chest, hugging you tighter. "But 'm glad you're here...thank you for being by my side. I love you sooooooooooo much."

"Of course, Joshie. I love you, too." You chuckled, holding him close until he dozed off again, before you ended up falling asleep yourself, enveloped by the warmth of the cabin fire and the one you loved most.

He probably won't remember much of this in the morning, but that was fine.

For once, everything felt right in the world.

"[Y/n], honey? Baby? Sweetheart?"

Blinking, you returned to the cold and cruel present, looking to the man tied to the post.

"Yes, Josh?" You sighed tiredly, wiping the blood from the corner of your lip.

"I'm pretty cold. How 'bout we loosen these restraints a little and-?"

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"What? I....I can't believe it. You would let those jerks do this to me?!! Your boyfriend? After all I've done for you?!!" Angrily, Josh tugged at his restraints, gnashing his teeth at you like some animal. "I feel hurt. Who does this to someone they love?!"

"First of all, I didn't tie you up. And second...you're not the only one who's gotten hurt tonight."

"If anyone deserves to feel hurt, it should be me! After what they did to my sisters..they had it coming."

As much as you wanted to snap at him for acting this way, you knew that he wasn't well, and getting angry right back wasn't going to make anything better.

Instead, you opted to look outside the shed, observing the snowfall while trying to ignore the sounds of him whining and struggling with the ropes.

Such sights used to calm your nerves, but now...it was nothing more than a grim reminder of how long and unforgiving this night has been, and how there's still a few hours until sunlight and rescue arrived.

How did you get here?

Well, it was supposed to be a reunion between friends.

You and Josh were still together after the horrible tragedy that befell his sisters exactly one year prior, and you were with him through the long days he spent trying to isolate himself, and the difficult nights he spent wishing he didn't wake up at all.

You stayed with him no matter what.

No matter how many times he tried pushing you away...you always stayed. And while he didn't express it as much as he wanted to, he appreciated it.

That's the only reason why he didn't subject you to the "prank" he had laid out for the rest of the group.

You knew his passion for film projects, having helped him with some small YouTube ones yourself. You knew that this year, he wanted to do something to "really bring the gang back together", and you let him be when he insisted on working alone.

God, why didn't you press him on what exactly this prank entailed?

Why didn't you pick up the signs that he was off his meds?

What he enacted was horrific beyond measure--a prank that you didn't even think he was capable of carrying out.

One that seemed so real that you were almost convinced that you lost him to a murderer.

When Chris came to you sobbing in remorse over how the "Psycho" tricked him into killing your boyfriend, you didn't know what to feel. You wanted to see the body to confirm it, but given his and Ashley's reactions..it wasn't worth scarring your eyes or mind over.

It left you unbelievably sad and numb, although you were left confused when through his blubbering, he admitted that the saw blade was rigged to kill Josh despite choosing to save him.

That was the first sign that you knew something was off.

You didn't know anybody that held a massive grudge against him to the point of rigging a trap to murder him only.

But only after Josh revealed everything to Chris, Ashley, Sam, Mike, and you....that's when it all made sense.

And you felt betrayed.

You couldn't believe he'd orchestrate this whole scheme behind your back.

How could you have been so naive and trusting?

You felt like you should have known what he was up to. The others gave you suspicious looks and even Mike wondered for a moment if you were an accomplice...but you weren't.

That was the truth.

You had no idea.

Now all you felt was lingering guilt and festering anger that this was Josh's twisted idea of "revenge" against the people who didn't even kill his sisters. Against people like Chris who didn't even know what happened until he woke up.

And in a way, you felt like it was against you for not waking him up in time to stop the prank that led to Hannah and Beth running out of the cabin.

No matter how many times he claimed you had nothing to do with it, you felt like he was punishing you, too.

So now, you, Chris, and Mike have taken him away from the others, to a shed where he couldn't hurt anybody. Apparently Jess was dead, and despite his insistence that he didn't kill her....Mike didn't believe a word he said, having seen her body firsthand in some mining elevator.

Then when he started making lewd comments about Chris and Ashley, both of the men were growing agitated, debating on whether to make him shut up by force or not.

Finally, you intervened before they could decide, offering to watch over him until sunrise. You're the only one who had a small chance to talk some sense into him and make him realize his mistakes.

Mike was reluctant to leave you alone with him, thinking he'll guilt trip you into letting him go, but you convinced him and Chris you'll be fine.

There were some...scary things you've seen out in the woods earlier, and the last thing you wanna do is leave Josh alone with them nearby.

Even after all the shitty things he did, even after faking his own death...you still loved him.

You didn't believe he murdered Jess.

That's not what Josh would do.

"Your sisters wouldn't have wanted this." You quietly said, looking back at the wide-eyed man. "I wish things were different that night. I wish they didn't get humiliated. God, I wish Hannah had talked to me instead. But this...all of this was wrong, Josh. What happened doesn't justify-"

"But it worked, didn't it? Listen, I...I-I didn't want anyone dead." He stammered. "I just wanted to see that same terror on their faces. And I got them good! I got you all!!"

"...did you have to give Ash a black eye, though?"

"Look, she stabbed me with scissors! And it still hurts like a motherfucker."

You just gave him an expression that read "well I would have too if a killer was chasing me", and he seemed to understand...given how his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Baby, 'm sorry..this...was not how our night's supposed to go. But you know what? I'm glad I was the only one laughing! Because NOW THEY KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE!!" Tears of anger pricked his eyes as his voice unexpectedly rose.

You whole body tensed, but you stayed calm, knowing he's only lashing out. "Josh, I know they hurt you. And hurting them back might feel good..but you hurt me too by faking your own death and not telling me how far you intended to take this prank."

"..you would've stopped me if I told you." He mumbled.

"Well maybe I should've been more persistent." You huffed. "If I was, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't have to talk about why Jess died and why you seem to be the prime suspect-"

"I swear to god, it wasn't me! I don't even know where she is!" Josh snapped, before he curled up, like a child in timeout. "Mike..he wouldn't explain the wheres and whens. He just kept hitting me, pushing me..telling me to shut up...but I didn't do it...I swear. Please, please believe me, [y/n]. I'm sorry that you got roped into this. I-It's..the..the last thing I wanted.." His voice softened. "I'm sorry I've been bad..."

Slowly, you could see bits and pieces of the Josh you once knew coming back. His mind wasn't all there, of course, but you've known him forever.

You should be thinking with your brain and not your heart.

But....

You still love him, and believe in second chances.

"Joshua."

He perked up, anticipating the worst as you pulled up a chair to sit in front of him. For you to say his name like that couldn't have been good.

Maybe you were gonna side with all the rest of them and spit on him.

Maybe you were gonna say that you're leaving him alone here, as Dr. Hill had warned would happen.

Maybe you were finally going to tell him what an unforgivable monster he wa-

"I believe you're innocent. You're not one to take a life. No matter what they say." You suddenly spoke, putting a hand to his soot-coated cheek

Almost immediately, his twitching stopped, and he stared straight at you.

It's like you put him in a trance.

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"..e-even though I've been..all messed up?" He asked cautiously. "I-I mean..I haven't been a good boyfriend lately..."

"That hasn't stopped me from being there for you before." You chuckled. "We're gonna work through this. Even if it's just you and I."

"............"

"I believe you when you say you didn't kill her. Do you believe me?"

It took him a few moments to study your expression, seeing the genuine care and warmth in your eyes. Despite all the horrors you've seen tonight, there was still a spark of hope in them.

That was the light he needed.

"...I-I do..I really do." He sniffled, resting his head on your shoulder, grateful that you didn't push him away despite being covered in dirt and fake blood. "'m sorry...I-I don't deserve you."

"Oh, honey..." You put your arms around him, sighing softly as you felt him tremble against you, tears slowly dampening your jacket. At this point, you knew you got him back, and you were so relieved. "We'll figure something out. Just stay with me."

"You don't think I'm a monster..?" He asked through his sobs. "I mean, everyone treated me like one...you've seen them.."

"....I know. Neither of us can change how they feel. But listen, the only monster here is-"

All of the sudden, a shrill inhumane screech echoed from somewhere outside, deep in the woods, interrupting the tender moment between you two.

Josh sat up with a start, his tearful eyes wide and terrified as he looked to you. "Wh-What was that?"

"That's the real monster I was gonna mention. They call it the Wendigo. Hang on." Crouching down, you managed to find a small pocketknife on his toolbelt, using it to cut the ropes binding him. "It's fast. But it's blind as fuck. We need to get out of here."

Nodding, he got up as quickly as he could, having no time to rub his aching wrists as you grabbed his hand.

The shrieks became louder, forcing you two to hide further inside the shed, sticking close to the back wall where the shadows were darkest. "Shit. Don't move a muscle, okay?"

His breath hitched as the wendigo dropped down in front of the entrance, creeping inside the small building to look for prey. But he took your advice and tried staying still.

You could practically hear you own heartbeat as you held your breath, thumping louder and louder as the creature wandered around. Josh watched it scrape its claws along the wall, creating a sound most unpleasant in an attempt to make him flinch.

It then made direct eye contact with you both.

While you managed to keep perfectly still, you could hear Josh's quiet whimpers, indicating he had a much harder time considering how jittery he was earlier.

All you could do was hope and pray it would leave.

Otherwise...both of you were dead.

Just when you thought your boyfriend was going to lose it completely, the distant snapping of a branch caused the wendigo to turn at blinding speed and sprint out of the shed, returning to the surrounding woods.

"Okay...thank christ.." Letting his hand go, you took a breather, only to see that he was still standing rigid. His eyes showed nothing but pure terror, as he began mumbling something like "was it real" under his breath.

"Josh? Baby?" You shook his shoulders a bit, and he blinked several times, coming back to reality. Relief immediately crossed his face as he realized you were still here. "It's okay. It's gone."

"Tha....That thing w-was real?"

"Yes. I know how to outsmart it. But we can't stay here. We'll be safer at the lodge with the others. We just gotta keep our heads down until then."

"But..what about the-?"

"Don't worry about them. Let's worry about getting out of here, alright?"

Wordlessly, Josh nodded, practically clinging to your arm as you both headed outside and down the snowy trail. He kept mumbling incoherent things, reassuring himself that he was safe with you.

Obviously, he seemed pretty shellshocked, considering the monster he just encountered was real and not a product of his imagination.

He didn't know whether that was better or worse.

Either way, you allowed him to hold onto you, knowing he needed someone--anyone--to lean on right now. And fortunately you were exactly the person he needed.

The only one who could help him come back to his senses.

You swore to never abandon him, and you intend to keep that promise even after all that happened tonight.

You still loved him, and he loved you.

That hasn't changed.

#until dawn x reader #ud x reader #josh washington #josh washington x reader #until dawn josh x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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tearsofcalamity · 7 months ago

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Boothil has me on a chokeholdI want to fuck him so bad.Maybe install a few softwares, up his sensitivity, play with his mind.. Or maybe a lewd virus.. Make him so horny and needy, his head can literally think of you fucking him so good..Or him accidentally plugging the wrong USB, thinking it's his usual data after rebooting, but it's your USB and it messed with him.. I want to fuck his pretty hole so bad

hi anon this is tasty oml

imagine his sensitivity's been all off, some kinda glitch maybe from an incident during one of his missions. one moment it's been too low, and the next (just like now) it's way, way too high. for every other touch it's just annoying, but every time you've brushed past him today, he's failed to mention his issue with just how aroused he feels himself getting. it's different when it's your touch.

when he finally bucks up and admits that he's been having issues, you're so caring, so much more considerate of his senses (he wishes you wouldn't be - he really just wants you to fuck him dumb every time you so much as graze him) as you set out a few USBs and ask him to wait while you go grab some other tools to fix up his sensors. he asks what they're for, and when you tell him they're various types of sensations compiled into USBs to better test each type of touch, he figures he might as well just get a jumpstart with the testing so he doesn't waste your precious time.

he opts for the USB sitting the furthest away. the fool, he hadn't even asked you what sensation each one was before trying it out. it could've been pain, a ticklish feeling, but no, he got arousal. it was like he was overwhelmed like an animal in heat at once, his eyes shooting open as his cock strained against his trousers painfully. images of you involuntarily flashed through his mind, and he had to fight to keep himself breathing normally, but it was no use...

you get back to find him practically humping the air, strands of black and white hair sticking to his forehead as he pants and moans and begs for your help. you're concerned until you see the USB sticking out of his port and realize at once what he's done, lightly chastising him (horrendous torture for him in this state, surely, to have your breath so gently tickling his ear as he suffers) on not touching your tools without asking you first.

unfortunately, it'd be too risky to go in and fix this via his inner wiring while he's this worked up... it might burn you with how much he's overheating. so the only solution is to fuck his brains out until he's at least semi-conscious enough to cool down. good thing you made sure he'd be able to fuck in any way a normal man could when adding his sensitivity! giving him all the facilities is coming in handy.

poor guy doesn't even have the time or mental faculties to ask why the hell you had an arousal USB among the testers present.

ooooh, maybe use a toy on his cock while you pound into him... it'll give you a nice view of his face while he's being completely overwhelmed, his eye filled with hearts, rolling back as his tongue sticks out from behind those pretty lips of his. a nice, slick onahole should do wonders to cool him down after one, three, five... maybe more orgasms, even as he begs you to stop despite his hips continuing to rut into the gadget. the fun thing about fucking a robot is that he can go a lot more than a human can, and as much as boothill tosses his head from side to side, actual tears beginning to spill, you can also see the drool beginning to fall from his lips, his lolling tongue as he groans your name over and over.

he's got a pseudo-prostate that you make sure to nail with precision every time your strap slides inside of him, the impeccable design of his insides allowing you to slip in and out with ease. you remove the onahole from his weeping cock (another feature that aids the toy and your current activities as a whole), pushing his legs up and folding him in half into a mating press, just to see if he can cum only from his prostate. and cum he does - his voice coming out higher and higher pitched as he wails in both euphoria and humiliation at your treatment of him.

finally, you slow when you realize he has indeed begun to cool. his eyes are rolled back, hair messy and splayed across the table, harsh scratches made by his metal nails into the steel table (somehow). he's not quite unconscious, but he certainly can't form any further words, his breathing heaving with small, scattered moans as he tries to regain himself. his emergency cooling procedure had kicked into high gear at last, aiding you in fixing up his sensitivity.

oh, but perhaps leave that special USB lying around. mark it clearly, and pretend not to notice when boothill digs through your messy desk to find it and plug it back in, acting for all the world that he didn't mean to use that special little one on himself again. he's got too much pride to admit it, after all. oh well, it seems you'll have to help him once more!

#sub boothill #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #sub hsr #boothill smut #hsr smut #katze works n/sfw #n/sfw #katze's secret corner #I got carried away oops #I also want to fuck his pretty hole anon... kindred spirit...

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touyas-multi-purpose-saline · 2 months ago

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DAY XII. — HAND HOLDING (DURING THE ACT)

cw: Fluff, Romantic Talk, Hand Holding, Cunnilingus, Aged-Up / Pro-Hero Time Skip, Fem! Reader. 18+ Only!

author's note: It was so interesting writing Deku. He's so cute but he's still an anxious dweeb who struggles to talk to girls. Enjoy!

word count: Approximately 1.2k words.

“Um, okay. I’m not sure if—well, it’s just, I’ve never done anything like this before so I don’t know if I’ll be able to perform at the kind of standard you might be expecting, which—”

“Izuku.”

Izuku pauses, the brows of his face pinched together and his pretty emerald eyes wide. They’re glossy with emotion, shiny underneath the dim lighting of your bedroom. His head rests in between your thighs, hands curled around the swell of your knees, fingers pinching into your skin. The way he looks at you makes you pause, but you just amend your surprise with a half moon of a smile.

“It’s okay, really. I don’t expect you to be an expert at this. I mean, I’m sure I wouldn’t be good going down on you either.”

A distinct little yelp squeaks in the back of Izuku’s throat before he quickly flings his gaze off to the side, red flames igniting and powdering across his face while he stammers a response.

“Ha ha! W-Well, you’re great at everything you do, or, you have been, so I’m sure you’d do great if you, uh, did g-go down on m-me. B-But we’re not talking about me right now! I’m just trying to make sure that you’re comfortable with this, and that—”

“Izuku.”

Once again, his teeth snap shut, and his eyes meet yours.

“Don’t think about it too much. Just do what your gut tells you. I know it’ll feel good, don’t sweat it.”

Izuku gulps, but he nods, determined. His face shifts a little, and his body wiggles along with it. He tries to press himself further in between your legs, squeezing your knees before he starts to push them down so he can accurately lower his face to the meadows of your cunt. Izuku’s determination fades a little, cracks of doubt breaking through his facade before he swallows and scrunches his brow ridge. You stare at him fondly, content with observing him build up the courage to swoop forward and claim what already belongs to him. His locks sway along his forehead, full and curly, and they tickle your thighs with Izuku’s every subtle movement. One of your hands reaches for him, tapping his head in a wave gently before you start to pet him. Izuku jumps, quickly glancing at you before he blinks and looks down again.

“J-Just tell me if you don’t like this and want me to stop. I’ll…”

Izuku doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he finally bows his head until his hot breath fans against the meaty lips of your cunt. Another swallow, but Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting any longer. He’s delicate and ginger whenever he connects your lips, his mouth is soft and warm, and you moan quietly at the sensation that unfolds beneath him. It’s lightning, but it’s slow, it’s nothing real. Fire, but it’s dull, but toasty enough to feel like ice thawing from your body. The feelings start to weigh down on you, and your head collapses onto the pillow within a mere second of Izuku’s mouth against your cunt.

The fingers in his hair braid themselves, a shallow sort of attempt to ground yourself. Izuku pauses for a split second, probably listening for any signs of discomfort, but resumes once another moan floats from your chest. His mouth parts, and his tongue pokes out like a snake hidden within tall stalks of gross to lay a thin stripe over the seam of your cunt. You feel like you’re spinning on a carousel, faster and faster, and your thighs clench once Izuku’s tongue prods against your clit. It’s hard, heavy, and thumping, eager to be touched and Izuku decidedly flicks it a few times. You groan each time, encouraging Izuku to tilt his head to the side so that he could suction his mouth against your clit. Both of your eyes roll back into your head, scattering like bowling pins smacked in the center, and a moan that’s way too loud escapes you whenever Izuku starts to suck and tug your clit.

“W-What was that you were saying about not being good? Ahhh, haa, oh, Izuku, that feels so so sooo good. Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Your praise spurns Izuku on, and he starts to work his jaw in miniscule circles to lap at your clit and play it over his tongue like a meal, like food he wanted to savor, like a broth and soup that spreads love and health throughout his chest. You wondered what Izuku was thinking, you wondered if he was really enjoying this, but an ear-splitting slurp made your head dizzy and all thoughts flew out of your mind.

His belly is flat to the bed, but you can feel him start to crunch up, can feel whenever he starts to gyrate his hips. Izuku’s moving in a way that slides you further towards him, your knees are growing closer to your head by the moment, and his face dives deeper. His groans vibrate your body, too, and his chin is parting your cunt down the middle. Glaze is slick down your flesh, but Izuku just bobs and weaves his head, smearing you wet, like he’s gone.

“Like that! Yeah, ohhh, yes, yes.”

Izuku nods to the best of his ability, and you’re left gritting your teeth and groaning. You wonder if he’s asked how to do this or if he’s researched it himself because, fuck, he’s so good, but that thought is fleeting and all you can imagine is teasing him after this is over by returning the favor. Because he’s eating you out like he’s mad with a fever, like you’re cetirizine. Maybe he’s listened to you gush one too many times—and that idea flatters you so badly, it makes you feel special to think someone is that dedicated to making you feel like this.

And whenever one of Izuku’s hands leaves your thigh, trailing down, leaving storms and electricity in his wake, you nearly gasp and cry out his name whenever he finds your free palm and taps it gently. You flex, trying to process everything, trying to focus on anything all at once but finding each feeling overlapping and overwhelming. Izuku traces his fingers up before he laces them between the gaps of yours, curling down over your knuckles and squeezing. Tears spring to your eyes, fresh and new, and you start to pant, chanting Izuku’s name with every molecule of air you sip through.

You can feel this burning, this reality that is starting to compress the rims of your belly. It’s down, but then it’s shivering and shuddering throughout your thighs all the way down to your stretching toes. But then it’s up, making your shoulder recoil and your chest bounce like a gunshot.

Izuku’s hand is in yours, and yours is in his. You return his hold, losing yourself to the intimacy of him, of Izuku, of your lover, of your pleasure. His mouth seems to suck you in, through a drain and tumbling into the rabbit hole, and you’re crying before you can catch yourself. It’s getting to be too much, the way you seem to slowly implode, and your back arches before Izuku’s name is your death rattle.

And you squeeze again, hands intertwined, and Izuku holds you all the way through your orgasm.

#my scoville lit.#mha x reader #bnha x reader #deku x reader #deku x y/n #deku x you #izuku midoriya #mha midoriya #midoriya x you #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoryia x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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majestyeverlasting · 26 days ago

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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐞.𝐦.

PAIRING Vampire Eddie Muson x Female Reader

SUMMARY One eerie night on your way home from work, you nearly run over someone who’s already supposed to be a dead man. As the truth slowly comes to light, an unlikely friendship forms—and begins to grow into something more. [fluff, mild angst, mentions of blood, 7.3k]

A/N There's no shame is coming back a little wrong. Here's to Halloween 2024!

𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟿

The relentless staccato of the drums reverberating off the walls pulses in time with the headache cruelly settled in the front of your head. It’s no fault of Jim, the young kid beating away for a committed crowd of ten. Rather, it’s the culmination of an entire evening's worth of noise. Of fulfilling countless drink requests for half the thanks.

The Hideout seems to move in a delay as you finish wiping down your portion of the sticky bar. A little further down, your co-worker Alex pours whiskey for an older man with a wild head of silver hair.

When you’re done, you head to the breakroom, weaving through sweaty bodies on the way. Shift officially over, you gather your belongings with quick hands, moving on autopilot as you so often do nowadays.

Reprieve only comes after you’ve pushed through the back door and stepped into the night. The air welcomes you with a cool stillness. A stillness that didn’t exist up until a year ago when the ground shook and the heavens turned red for a short period of time. Those who could afford to flee left Hawkins and never looked back. People like you stayed behind.

There’s been something different about the nighttime since that fateful day. Not only did the darkness deepen, but the nights themselves seemed to stretch longer. As if nothingness itself sought to swallow the town every time the sun made its descent. That reality doesn’t scare you anymore.

On nights like tonight, there’s an eerie beauty to it all.

The radio in your car bursts into pop when you start the ignition, but you kill it quickly. Tomorrow, you’d wake up, go to work, and do it all again.

Under the glow of the remaining streetlights, you cruise your way through a near ghost town. One hand guides the wheel while the other remains propped against your head. There are more boarded windows and abandoned lots than there are signs of life, all memorializing a time that once was but is no more.

As you turn onto Main Street, a dark flutter of movement catches your attention further ahead. You can’t quite make out what’s on the ground yet, but you slow down as a precaution.

It ends up being a black cat that scurries across the road, disappearing into an alleyway. What you’re not expecting is the figure that carelessly darts in front of you to chase after it. Slamming down on the breaks sends you lurching forward with a gasp. You don’t realize your eyes are squeezed shut until you peel them open, heart pounding in your ears.

The figure, a man, as you can now make out, is on the ground on the other side of the street. He must’ve tripped over the curb in his haste. Propping himself up on his forearms, he glances in the direction the cat ran in as if debating to continue after it.

Instead, in an air of defeat, he plops onto his back and stares up at the void-like sky. Alarm bells go off in your head at the possibility of this being some sort of trap, but you crank down your window because too much concern has settled within your ribcage.

“Are you alright?” you call out to him. “I’m so sorry.”

He just lies there, shifting ever so slightly.

Conflicted, you chew on your lower lip before finally deciding to get out of the car. The sound of your door snapping shut proceeds your hesitant footsteps as you pad over to him.

The faint smell of vanilla and stale beer had registered with him the moment you opened your door, but it intensifies as you near, right along with a deeper, more vascular scent. The latter of which intrigues a primal part of him he often fought to suppress. Helplessly, instinctively, he licks over his teeth as the gums above his canines begin to tingle.

You stop a few feet away as he sits up fully, hair long and disheveled. There’s an intensity to his gaze that isn’t threatening or unkind, just strikingly observant. Like an owl seeing through what you want him to see, straight to the marrow of who you are.

In daring to look back into his eyes, you notice how they’re as black as the night sky. His face is pale, cheeks are slightly gaunt.

He can see the moment you discard any notion of him being a threat, realizing how weak and pathetic he must look sitting on the ground. Embarrassment itches down his arms as he averts his gaze to the asphalt of the street. He can’t even pay himself the dignity of standing.

“I didn’t see you coming.” Your voice is too sweet. “Do you need help? There’s a phone booth over there, I could call someone for you.”

“I’m alright,” he murmurs.

“Are you sure?” You study him for any signs of pain. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Never better.” It took a lot more than a good wipeout to hurt him nowadays.

He looks back up at you in hopes it will make you believe him. That’s when a sense of recognition kindles deep down within you. You repress it because it can’t possibly be him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The cadence of his voice, though weighed with tiredness, is unmistakably familiar in this moment.

“Well, alright,” you finally say.

Walking back to your car and leaving him alone almost feels like a crime.

•••

There’s a distanced look in your eyes as you stare up at Robin’s ceiling fan. It’s as still as you are, but the sunken cheeks of the pale stranger spiral around and around in your head. It’s past midnight and dim lamplight paints the room in a soft, yellowed glow. There are posters all over the walls, which are still painted lilac from her childhood. Everything from the album covers of Madonna and Blondie to movies like Psycho and Star Wars.

The paper of her senior yearbook crinkles gently as she flips through the pages beside you. She stops when she finally gets to the senior portraits, pointing to Edward Munson as you flip onto your stomach to join her in looking. He has long hair, doe eyes, and a boyish grin. You stare at his face for a few quiet seconds, noting how much more alive he looked. Robin’s mouth opens a couple times but no words come out.

“I swear it was him, Rob.” Your voice cracks a little with the weight of your sincerity. “And he looked like he needed help. Like he may be going through something right now. Something bad. Drugs.”

Robin abruptly flips the yearbook closed. “He’s gone,” she says with the resolve of someone who’s had enough time to stitch old wounds closed. You can understand that.

Considering the selfish discrimination that plagued Hawkins back at that time, you’re not even sure if the police department looked all that intensely. Maybe no more than a few echoing calls out into the woods for a couple days straight. They had better things to do than search for a troubled teen from Forest Hills Trailer park. The thought alone is enough to stir a sense of disgust within you, so you can only imagine how Robin feels being he was her friend.

Eddie got held back and was set to graduate alongside you in eighty-seven but you never crossed paths, only shot the occasional curious glance his way because there always had been something magnetic about him. It wasn’t until Hawkins was rattled with the mysterious shaking that you befriended Robin, Steve, and some of their younger friends.

They were among the residents who didn’t skip town even though they had the means to.

Robin’s cheeks have taken on a light flush, so you give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry to bring this up on a random Saturday night, but it’s all that’s been on my mind,” you admit. “To think that he could be out there on his own, scared to come forward…” you trail off, unsure of where you’re headed.

Her blue eyes look intently into yours. “You don’t go missing for that long and magically turn up alive… You just don’t.” There’s a practiced steadiness to her voice.

With Eddie being someone you’d only ever seen in passing, you find yourself wondering why you wish her words were the furthest thing from the truth.

•••

It’s quiet except for the whir of your bicycle wheels as you pedal back to your house the following morning. It feels like you’re gliding on the wind, bound to float up and away with a mere extension of your arms. The made-up tune you’re humming fades away when a slender black cat stops in the middle of the street about a hundred feet ahead, staring straight at you. It doesn’t startle as you near.

The feline takes a few curious steps towards you as you dismount your bike, squatting down to make yourself look smaller and less imposing. That’s when you notice the collar around its neck that nearly blends in with its coat aside from the golden nameplate pendant. Luna.

“Hi, Luna,” you coo, holding out your hand. She nuzzles into it. “That’s such a pretty name. You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?” She lets you scratch behind her ears as she blinks her big green eyes in languid satisfaction. Her fur is soft and clean, clearly from being taken care of.

“Did you run away from home? Is that what happened?” You take a quick look around even though you’re in the portion of town where the homes are tucked further back into the trees. Nobody seems to be outside looking.

When you stand, she gazes up at you before trotting away. Only then does it occur to you that she probably knows her way back home. But you can’t shake the possibility that she was the same cat from two nights ago who was running from the dead man. So many pets had been displaced since the Shaking, but that didn’t seem to be the case with her. A small smile pulls at your lips when she looks back at you with a soft mrrow.

Picking up your bike, you walk closer to her. Upon noticing you’ve begun to follow, Luna starts walking again and you trail after her.

She eventually diverts off the street and under an A-frame barricade with a sign that reads: Private Property, No Trespassing. Now standing on a dirt road leading into the woods. When you stop, still on the road, she turns back to look at you—mrrrrow.

“I can’t,” you say.

The sound of an approaching engine startles you. A police car that slows to a stop, rolling the window down to reveal a scrawny officer with an unkempt mustache, smoking a cigarette. He gives you a quick once-over.

“You a friend of the guy who lives back there?” For someone living in the midwest, he has a thick Southern drawl. And an unfamiliar face, now that you’re thinking about it. Likely a new hire. What was even stranger than those who decided to stay in Hawkins was the handful of people who, for some reason, sought out the town.

Glancing back at the dirt road, you realize Luna hasn’t moved. The officer lifts his brows in curiosity when your eyes settle back on him.

“I—yes. I am,” you say. Thankfully, he looks like he believes you.

“How’s he doing? Chief’s planning a welfare visit within the hour,” he says it like he’s trying to collect pieces of information for a puzzle he’s working out.

“I was actually just going to see him,” you lie. “Is there reason for concern?”

The officer snorts and shakes his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You tell me. Nobody tells me a goddamn thing in this town,” he says. “I’ll get someone to crack soon enough. You take care of yourself, sweetheart.” With that, he pulls off. Mrrrow—

With a heavy sigh and buzzing nerves, you push your bike around the barricade and allow Luna to lead you down the road in a bouncy, graceful stride.

•••

Three crisp knocks at the door startles Eddie awake on the couch. One arm is hanging off and brushing against the rug. He blinks a few drowsy times before mustering up the willpower to stand, trudging to go peak out the front window. It’s you and Luna. The way his heartbeat spikes makes him wish that no longer having a heart had been a part of the vampire deal. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a cute oversized cardigan. Your bike is propped along the railing of the porch stairs.

Nobody was supposed to know about this place aside from a select group. A small part of him is happy to see your face again, but he knows this isn’t good. The fewer people who know about him, the better. Perhaps that was merely a lie he told himself when he managed to escape Upside Down, but it had stuck. And for some reason—whether it be patience, pity, or an odd blend of both—everyone respected his wishes.

The house Eddie lived in now had been abandoned by a doomsday prepper. A surprisingly decent amount of supplies were left stored away in the basement. Chief Hopper had helped him move in a year ago after he returned from the Upside Down as a changed man. The chief had even found a reliable contact at the Hawkins Blood Bank for the sake of Eddie’s needs.

As tempting as the urges sometimes were, feeding on live prey wasn’t sustainable. Drinking from blood bags was just as suitable.

Even when it comes to his friends, they make sure to look out for him as best they can. Offering their company, their support, their laughter. All things considered, he had the stability he needed to get back out in the world and chase after a semblance of normalcy. But he hadn’t, not fully.

The amount of times he left the house, especially during the day, was far and few between. When he did, it was to go to Steve’s place, or Robin’s, or Dustin’s.

Now he’d fallen into funk like none other, insisting that nobody bothered him at all. For the first time since turning into a vampire, the desire to start living again was stronger than ever, yet it terrified him to his core. The last thing he wanted to do was for his cursed hands to end up tarnishing whatever good managed to come his way. He wouldn’t be able to bear it, so he figured he’d save himself the disappointment by not trying at all.

It was killing him.

When he opens the door, you’re wide-eyed. Luna immediately strolls inside to circle in between his legs, proudly rubbing herself against them. As bad as he wants to scoop her up into his arms in relief, he keeps looking at you.

“Eddie Munson?” you ask hesitantly.

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“I knew that was you back on Friday.”

Your eyes flick down to Luna, who gratefully peers up. “She was out in the street trying to get help for you,” you say without a doubt. “Animals always know.” There’s a brief flicker of emotion in Eddie’s eyes.

“I’d been trying to catch her that night.” He sounds ashamed, like he knows you’re right, “She’s never run away before.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of you.

“There’s someone coming for a welfare check,” you tell him. “The Chief of Police, I think. An officer stopped and told me.”

Eddie pales—if that’s even possible. A humorless laugh rises in his throat. “I’m sorry for getting you dragged into this mess—”

“I wasn’t dragged into anything,” you counter softly, searching his eyes. “It’s called life. Things happen, you meet people, time keeps passing by.

“Everything happens for a reason.” You offer a small, encouraging smile.

He feels a flutter in his gut that he hasn’t felt in a long time. You’re awfully pretty, and kind, and smell way too divine.

It’s too far away for you to hear, but in the distance, there’s a rumbling engine and the sound of tires turning onto the dirt road.

•••

Vampires were supposed to be bound to legends and myths. Not real, and certainly not in Hawkins in the form of a boy whose company you could easily learn to enjoy. Both Eddie and Chief Hopper stare at you, eagerly awaiting your response to the story they just told. It’d practically been an entire oral history of Hawkins’ woes, not solely about Eddie, but about Eleven, demogorgons, the Mind Flayer, and Venca—all underscored by a depraved dimension called the Upside Down.

All three of you are seated in the charming living room, the sun beginning to set outside.

“Look,” Hopper says, running a thick hand down his face. “I know this is a lot. I wouldn’t blame you if you ran off and told the whole town.” As he shifts, the buttons over his stomach strain. “But before you do, just take a second and—”

“I won’t tell,” you promise. “I always knew this town was different. I could feel it,” you admit. “For the first time in my life, I don’t feel crazy anymore.”

That resonates with Eddie. It was a strange, unforgiving town indeed.

“But I think you guys already knew that,” you say. “That’s why you even bothered to trust me.”

Hopper glances at Eddie as if to say I like this one, she’s solid. Eddie likes you too.

The boy straightens up. “And about Robin, Steve, and everybody else… I know they lied to you, but it’s only because I asked them to keep me a secret,” he says. “If you’re upset about that, you have the right to take it out on me.”

“Not while I’m here,” Hopper quips, pushing himself up from the couch. “If she does a number on you, I refuse to be a witness.” He’s joking, and you’re grateful for the levity that works its way back into the room.

Eddie purses his lips in amusement, peeking over at you. You smile back.

“And for the love of God, can you get something in your system? You look like you’re withering away,” Hopper grouses. “I’m gonna swing back around tomorrow, and all those blood bags better be gone.”

You’re unable to stop yourself from snorting at what your life has suddenly become. If the sparkle in his eyes is any indicator, Eddie didn’t seem to mind your amusement. Not even a little bit, not even at all.

•••

Gravel crackles beneath a set of tires as a vehicle rolls up out back. You’re too far away to hear, but as Eddie hops out of his van, he can make out chatter and drums emitting from inside. The external lights of The Hideout are blown out, so it’s pitch dark as Eddie rounds to the passenger side to get his acoustic guitar and sling it over his shoulder.

Soon, his hand is meeting the cool handle of the back door, which doesn't budge when he tugs. Two years ago, it would’ve. He was still learning how much time had altered in its wake. So He begins knocking instead.

Entering through the front would be simple enough, but he wasn’t quite ready for everyone’s eyes to fall on him at once.

Inside, Samuel, a man with a pirate hook in place of his missing hand, uses the metal prosthetic to push his empty glass closer to you for a refill. Eddie’s unheard knocking persists as you whistle for Alex to fulfill the man’s request in your place.

“Gotta run to the bathroom,” you say.

When you make it to the back hallway, the knocking finally registers. Two girls with matching mullets come stumbling out the bathroom hand-in-hand, forcing you to press closer to the wall as you head to answer the door. A voice emerges from the other side as you do.

“Hello? I’m here to—”

It’s Eddie, blending in with the darkness of the night except for his guitar and milky skin. Although, there’s a bit more life to his complexion now. His curls tumble down onto his shoulders, denser and more defined as if he’d washed his hair recently. He’s no longer wearing baggy clothes, so you can see the true broadness of his shoulders. The undeniable tone of his slim frame.

Under the weight of your observant gaze, he clears his throat, eyes flicking to the ground. “Sorry. It’s been a while,” he says. “I don’t know what the protocol is for performers anymore.”

With everything you’ve learned over the past few weeks, you weren’t expecting him here. You’d hung out with him several times since learning he was a vampire, but it was either at his house or somebody else's. Never out and about, and certainly not around other people.

His shoulders relax when you smile and open the door wider for him to come inside. He smells good as he brushes past you with tentative steps.

“The green room is still where you remember it,” you call, trailing after him as he heads that way.

It’s more of a supply room now. There are napkins, utensils, cleaning solutions, the whole lot. A few aux cords and other random pieces of sound equipment remain from back in the day.

Eddie pads over to a small shelf, filled with old inspection documents and financial forms, and carefully scoots the stack to the right. Curiosity gets the better of you as you go to look over his shoulder.

He can hear your breaths even though they aren’t loud. The gentle, steady beating of your heart. He can’t pretend it isn’t what he came for.

Written in permanent marker against the wood of the shelf is a messy cluster of Corroded Coffin signatures dated with the year 1987. The year everything changed. Among the names, is his written in chunky capital letters, devil ears on either end.

“I never knew that was there,” you say fondly.

He turns around to face you. “We thought we were so cool.” The memory makes him smile.

A brief moment passes of taking each other in. You break the silence, “If you wanna perform, you can go out when the drums stop. Jim gets up there every evening and eventually wears himself out. I say he’s got another five minutes left in him.”

“Everyone’s got their process,” Eddie jokes. He’s rewarded with the sweet sound of your laugh. You pretend you wouldn’t rather stay hidden in this small, stuffy room and chat the remainder of your shift away.

Jim stops playing as you predicted, but it isn’t until you’re back at the bar that Eddie emerges. You take the time to actually read what’s painted in white on the dark wood of his guitar: THIS MACHINE SLAYS Dragons. The room immediately goes quiet as he takes a seat on the edge of the stage, commanding it without doing anything at all. He even garners the attention of drunk eyes in their blurry haze.

Without looking up from the fingerboard, he begins a connected series of languid strums, rings glinting in the low light.

The melodic notes soon shape into a song. One that’s as somber as it is beautiful. It’s in no way akin to the punk and metal music that usually ricochets off the walls, but there’s no complaints. Everyone is transfixed by the way he simply watches his fingers as he plays. As if his heart isn’t bleeding out before their very eyes and reaching out to theirs.

Once upon a time, he got a kick out of being rowdy and playing off the audience’s energy. But now, simply being seen and heard was enough. Especially after a period of wandering the dark.

He’d told himself that this was the week he’d come out of hiding. That he was worth more than living in the shadows where he couldn’t make any mistakes.

Scattered applause rises when he finishes. Samuel, abruptly slides from his barstool and slaps a few wrinkled dollar bills on the counter for you with his good hand. There’s a tug in your chest when you notice the tears welling in his eyes.

“Who is that kid anyway?” he asks, swiping beneath them.

You offer a small smile. “Eddie Munson.”

“I’d pay good money to hear his story,” he says, gathering his jacket from the back of the stool. “Tell your folks I say hello.” With that, he gets up and leaves, disappearing into the night.

Eddie stands from the stage as well. A few people file into his personal space to compliment and thank him for playing, but it doesn’t seem to phase him. He doesn’t flinch or cower away. The smile that eases across his face is so genuine that you can feel yourself being compelled into his orbit as well.

You remain behind the bar, however.

“Hey, lady, are you deaf or something?” A man taps his empty beer glass down on the bar in front of you, clearly intoxicated or at least halfway there. “Gimme another.”

Alex is quick to pick up your slack, sliding up alongside you to give the guy a fresh glass. “Take a chill pill, man,” he says, fixing the guy with a firm look.

“I’m Eric fucking Rutherford, and she’s on the clock.” He belches after taking a few big gulps. “She can visit la-la land on her own time. Shit, I’m going to go take a piss,” he grumbles.

Eddie hears the whole exchange even though he wishes he hadn’t. He hears everything nowadays.

You shoot Alex a tired, apologetic smile. What you don’t see is Eddie placing his guitar on the stage and following Eric into the bathroom.

Another perk of being undead is that nobody scares him anymore.

“You can clock out early if you want,” Alex insists. “It’s only gonna get crazier.”

The loud squeak of the hinges pierce through the air as Eddie slips through the bathroom door. Eric gives him a charged glance before unzipping his pants and taking care of his business. Eddie’s heavy boots clunk against the wet tile as he makes his way to the urinal right beside the man, staring down into the dingy ceramic.

“You a fairy or something? All this space and you wanna be right up under me.” Eddie can hear the man’s heartbeat speed up in his chest. Not from fear, fear sounded different. This was more like hopefulness.

Like a secret desire packed down so tight it was begging for a reason to be set free. Upon finishing, Eric zips his pants and gives Eddie another look, “Well, are you?”

Eddie’s jaw ticks as he shadows Eric to the sink. “What does matter to you?” He clocks the wedding band on the man’s ring finger.

It’s hard to make out a reflection amid all the cracks and scribbled writing on the mirror, but Eric can see Eddie looming behind him like a stone wall. They lock eyes, and there’s something about Eddie’s gaze that makes it hard to look away. The man has no choice but to let down his facade.

There was an inexplicable force willing him to do so. An inhuman compulsion. Eddie can’t bring himself to feel bad for leveraging an ability he seldom used.

In a ruse of friendliness, he pulls out a couple sheets of paper towels and hands them to Eric. “Now you’re just stringing me along and playing hard to get,” the man accuses. “There’s a motel right across the street if you wanna drop the act.”

“No thanks,” Eddie says cooly.

That startles a laugh out of him. “No thanks? Yeah, right—”

Eric's face pales when dark veins begin to snake beneath Eddie’s eyes.

Back in the main room, your head snaps up from wiping the bar when Eric bursts out of the bathroom, letting out a string of terrified expletives. He nearly trips over himself as he casts numerous glances over his shoulder, but nobody’s chasing after him.

Multiple people call out to ask what’s wrong, but he chokes on his breath when he tries to speak. Seeing the intense flush of his face makes your heartbeat pound in your ears like Jim’s drumming. The tempo swells when he locks eyes with you.

Eddie listens from the bathroom as he splashes his face with cold water.

“I’m sorry, alright?” Eric forces out. “We’re cool now, okay? No more bad blood.”

You nod, frozen in place at the realization of the only person who could make him this afraid. With the acceptance of your apology, he darts out the front door on shaky legs.

•••

Not even ten minutes later, you’re scolding Eddie after accepting his offer to drive you home. It’s an invitation you could’ve passed on, if you hadn’t long regretted your decision to bike to work. Eddie’s van smells earthen, with faint undertones of tobacco and the cinnamon car freshener hanging from their rearview.

He can hear the waver of concern in your voice as you carry on.

“And what if he tells?” you ask. “What if he recognized you?”

“He didn’t recognize me. And he won’t tell,” Eddie says, a little too sure for your liking.

“You don’t know that, Eddie. Jesus.” You slouch back into the passenger seat and go silent for the first time during the entire ride. Only then does guilt begin gnawing at you, relentless nips all over your body.

Eddie was at least trying to get back out into the world, and here you were scolding him for standing up in your defense.

You look over to his hands as he drives, the glint of his rings. Eddie has pretty, slender fingers. He can feel you staring, but doesn’t respond because he has no regrets. Not only have his senses been amplified since the Upside Down, but so has his willingness to defend. He’d spent so long running from everyone and everything, as if being a coward was woven into the inner fabric of his being. But not anymore.

There was an unyielding sense of protectiveness you managed to stir within him. That’s how everything felt when it came to you. He has to fight to ignore how aware he is of you. Your aura, your scent, the way your blood smells sweeter now that it was just the two of you making passage through the night.

He licks over his teeth and his tingling gums, ignoring the relentless pull of desire.

Looking out the passenger side window as the town passes by only works for so long. “Hey, Eddie?” you murmur. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I just worry.”

You shrink in on yourself when he looks over at you with more fondness than you deserve. “It’s alright,” he says.

A smile finally twitches at his lips when you hold out your pinky. He indulges you, hooking his larger one around yours.

•••

It’s no surprise he receives an invitation inside your trailer once you’ve arrived. It feels weird being back in the small, othered community that raised him. There were a few occasions he’d come to visit Wayne at night when nobody could see. Other than that, it was the older man who came to him instead.

The small space is cozy and lived-in. A courtesy of one of your aunt’s who’d fled Hawkins but was willing to rent the place out for cheap. Eddie’s enhanced scent allows him to perceive every note. It’s overwhelming in the best way. He could tune it all out if he wanted, but he’s greedy when it comes to you.

You head to your bedroom as he takes off his boots by the door, bracing a hand on the wall. With owl-like eyes, watching the sway of your hips in your jeans as you disappear. Then he begins to look around in curiosity. There are numerous pictures of your friends and family. Shelves on the walls that hold different frames, trinkets, and figurines. The layout of the trailer is similar to his Uncle Wayne’s in that the living room and kitchen bleed into each other, but you’ve made a more functional utilization of the space.

It soon registered that the shuffling sound coming from your room is you attempting to tidy up. A smile tugs at his lips.

A small squeak escapes you as you turn around from closing a drawer of your dresser. Eddie is leaning in the doorway with an amused look on his face, and you can’t even conjure up an excuse for what you’re doing.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“No,” you huff, a grin threatening to break through.

A chuckle shakes his chest. “Please?”

There’s a giddy flutter within you. “You’re banned for life.”

“For life,” he repeats as he saunters in. “That’s not fair.”

Your room reminds him of Robin’s, though it’s not as reflective of your more teenage interests. There’s more of a mature refinement that still brims with personality.

Eddie walks over to your small, somewhat cluttered desk and picks up your journal as your back is turned away.

When your eyes land on him again, he’s sitting on the foot of your bed, the book flipped open. His gaze is fixed on the first, where your name and the date you started writing in it are scrawled in your handwriting. He’d never be so bold in invading your privacy. He only picked it up to get a rise out of you. As expected, your heart sinks into your feet at the sight.

“Eddie, no,” you whine, rushing over to swipe it away, completely unaware that you’ve crowded between his legs. He angles it out of your reach with a teasing grin on his face. “It’s not funny, I’m being serious.” Still, a helpless laugh bubbles out of you in betrayal.

You reach for it again, but this time he falls onto his back, extending his arm above his head.

Placing one knee on the bed between his spread legs, you lean forward, bracing with one hand as you reach for your journal with the other. Eddie’s breath catches when your chest brushes against his face, warmth flooding his cheeks and pleasantly melting lower and lower.

In an effort to save himself from doing something stupid, he slips his free hand under your sweater to press his fingers into your skin like he’s playing the piano. A small squeak escapes you before you tumble into the sweetest laughter.

You scoot further down his body to escape and, in your warm, giggly haze, capture his lips in a kiss that sends both of your heads soaring into the clouds.

You tell yourself it’s only to get him to stop tickling you, but it’s more than that. It’s a bursting forth of every feeling that reawakened the moment you learned he was still alive. All the lost years come rushing back for their recompense in the intoxicating heat of your kiss.

Eddie drops the journal in favor of settling both hands on your waist to steady you above him. Even then, he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to carry on like this. A familiar sensation starts up in his gums, and he makes a small sound in the back of his throat that sounds grieved.

Almost immediately, you pull away, staring down at his spit slicked lips. “Are you okay?” you murmur, studying his face with concern.

He nods in place of speaking, but when you lean back in to peck his lips, he makes that same sound again, pushing gently at your waist.

“Hold on,” he breathes.

Your brows furrow until you get the idea to raise his upper lip with a gentle thumb. For the first time, up close and personal, you see that his fangs have extended. Weakly, he fights against you to close his mouth, but you don’t move your finger. There’s a sense of wonder in your eyes as you study them, pearly and sharp.

He feels exposed, like he’s an animal receiving an inspection.

“Alright,” he halfheartedly urges, turning his head away to get you to stop. In doing so, the sharp end of his right fang ends up nicking your thumb. Wincing, you step back to your full height, allowing him to sit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Lemme see?” He raises your hand to assess the damage. It’s nothing major. A trickle of blood runs from the puncture.

“I’m okay.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand. Neither has he looked away from the blood. It’d be easy for him to slip your finger into his mouth and suck it off. But he doesn’t, unsure he’d be able to stop.

That’s when a willing look sparks in your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you assure, recalling how your own childhood consisted of quickly sucking away the blood from minor cuts and scrapes. It was nothing. You trust him.

Eddie blinks, conflicted, then presses his lips to the pad of your thumb as if he’s offering a kiss. You feel the wet warmth of his tongue as he pokes it out. Your blood is too good. If he never drank it again, this would be more than enough. All he needed was one taste when it came to you.

•••

𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟶

Leaving Hawkins

Come Again Soon

Passing the sign had almost felt wrong, but the breeze flowing in from the cracked windows didn’t. Neither did the gentle weight of Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh. Even now, as you and Eddie wander your way around a carnival two towns over, the words lingered around the edges of your mind. For a fleeting second, you allow yourself to imagine that the two of you were bound to never return.

Golden hour paints everything in an ethereal glow. The air smells like pumpkin spice, cider, and straw. Lights from various attractions twinkle and flash like small colorful stars. Laughter and thrilled screams seem to have permanent residency in the air. So much life pulsed all around. More than Hawkins would likely ever see again for a long time. Eddie looks over at you when you squeeze his hand.

“Doing alright?” you ask quietly.

He nods. “You?”

You nod. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you to go in a photo booth with me.”

A surprised laugh slips past Eddie’s lips. “What do you mean courage?”

“Last time we went in one together, you said never again,” you mock the sound of his voice, recalling the flustered look on his face. It’d been your fault, your hands had wandered, drawing eyes when you exited the booth.

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” he says.

Upon crawling into the next available booth, it’s a tight fit. Your thighs press together, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. Sometimes you couldn’t get close enough. The black curtains hanging on either side surprisingly manage to block out a decent amount of light. With a giddy smile on your face, you cling to Eddie’s free arm as he pays and presses the buttons necessary to advance past the main menu. When it comes time to take your series of photos, a brief sense of panic washes over you.

“Wait, we never planned out our poses.”

Eddie chuckles as he drapes an arm over your shoulders and kisses your temple. “We can wing it. We’re good at that.”

Turns out he’s right. You can’t stop gushing at the strip of black-and-white pictures once you’re back on the outside. Out of the four, your favorite one is where you’re both smiling into the camera with your head resting on his shoulder. It strikes you then, how fortunate you are to be able to spend moments like this with him. If you could comb through entire dictionaries, ‘easy’ was still the word you’d settle on when it came to Eddie. It was easy to exist alongside him. He was kind in a way you’d never experienced in a relationship. And funny in a quiet sort of way you wouldn’t necessarily expect at first glance.

“Prettiest girl in the world,” Eddie compliments as you start walking again. “Got me wrapped around your finger.”

Instead of responding, you hook your arm around his and tuck yourself closer. A brief silence stretches between you, but the sounds of the fairgrounds continue all around like magic. You’ll remember this evening forever.

“Thank you,” Eddie eventually says, tone thick with sincerity. You don’t ask what he’s referring to because you know it’s not one singular thing.

Even during that melancholic night when you almost hit him with your car, he knew there was something about you he wouldn’t be able to shake for a long time. Had he not seen you again, he still would’ve remembered your face, the sound of your voice, how evident it was that you cared, even in your tiredness. But then Luna led you back to him, and you brought him back to life. You showed him that there was so much worth living for, that it was okay to mess up sometimes. There was nothing to gain when you never took a chance.

Eventually, you find yourselves in line for the ferris wheel. By the time you reach front, the sun has surrendered its golden glow to a calmer pink hue settling closer to the horizon. The lights from all the rides look particularly nice twinkling in the budding twilight.

The cart rocks gently as you and Eddie board with care. Once you’re settled and the wheel continues its revolution, everything below no longer seems as grand. The game stands, food booths, kiddie roller coasters, countless fairgoers walking around. There’s a flutter in your gut from the new height, and you welcome it.

When Eddie interlocks his fingers with yours, you look down at your joint hands, a smile creeping onto your face. Before you know it, you’ve reached the top. You almost expect it to keep going, but it eases to a complete stop, your cart swaying softly with the sudden stillness.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says. You meet his gaze. His eyes are dark like they always are, seemingly looking straight into your soul.

Rather than continuing whatever he was going to say, he cups your face and presses his lips to yours. A pleasant warmth rushes down to your toes as if you weren’t already on top of the world. Eddie is a gentle kisser, always acutely aware of the thirst you stirred within him. One he’d never quite felt before, even when he wasn’t hungry. You’ve learned his cues, when to keep leaning in or pull away. Kissing him is exhilerating in that way.

You’re too wrapped up in the softness of his lips to pay any mind to the teenagers on the cart behind you attempting to stifle their giggles.

Nor do you mind the brief stinging sensation of your lower lip catching one of Eddie’s fangs. The indulgent lap of his tongue that occurs in time with the tangy, metallic taste that registers on your own.

All around, the world carries on. Even lonesome Hawkins where it rests miles away.

Thank you so much for reading! Any interaction is greatly appreciated, I promise I see it all.

Feel free to let me know what you think. (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson friends to lovers #friends to lovers fic #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie x reader #halloween 2024

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red-smut · 8 months ago

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Work of five 1/6: Ryujin

2000 words

Initially this was going to be a long one-shot with all the girls, but in the end I'm going to make this a mini-series in which each chapter will be focused on one girl and the last one will be with all of them at the same time, I hope you like it.

Profits are the most important in the kpop industry, agencies make a lot of money by making use of the voice and face of their idols, but inside the kpop paradise hides a dark hell that not all idols have reached, but sooner or later they will.

When a girl group fails to fulfill the expectations set by their agency regarding profits, they act and decide to raise the money in a more… frowned upon way.

Because there are people in the world willing to pay huge amounts of money to get their hands on a young Asian girl they adore internationally.

In this situation are now Itzy’s girls, who have not been able to raise enough money, so a group of millionaires has decided to rent the body of the girls for fun.

The first to find out about this deal was Ryujin, JYP asked her to stay after a concert, thus separating her from the group.

After being put on notice she tried to refuse but finally had to accept for the sake of her career.

Soft male moans were coming from inside Ryujin’s dressing room, where she was squatting sucking the cock of 4 men of different races.

One is a huge black man, he must have been about six feet tall and his physique was certainly incredible, but what stood out the most about him was his huge member, which was so big that Ryujin barely reached half of it.

On the other hand there was a Russian man who barely let out a word, although his cock was not as big as his partner’s it must be admitted that his size was still quite astonishing.

Finally there is the old man, he wasn’t made for this kind of jogging anymore and he had already cum three times in Ryujin’s mouth, but he is the leader of a big company and he is one of the ones who paid the most, so Ryujin had to give him some preference by order of JYP

The Russian man is grabbing Ryujin by the hair while she was wrapping her lips around his cock, trying to push him to the limit to get one out of the way already “it’s been 10 seconds, switch.”

The Russian pushed Ryujin away by force and gave her hair to the black guy, who accepted it delightedly and immediately grabbed it tightly to crush his cock against the rapper’s face, his shaft went from her chin to her forehead, where the tip of this monstrosity rested, when she felt the dirty smell of his cock Ryujin went blank for a few moments and her body acted by pure instinct, licking and kissing the dick with an expression that showed submission.

But this didn’t last long, as Ryujin came back to her senses and hurriedly walked away “You disgusting fucking nasty nigger, wash your dick once in a while it makes you want to…”

Old hands grabbed Ryujin’s head and turned her around to plunge an old cock down her throat, with him Ryujin had a special treat and started to devour his cock eagerly, knowing that if it made the old man happy enough maybe she wouldn’t have to go through this ever again.

Ryujin sucks him while teasing his tip with her tongue and occasionally flicking it up and down his shaft, one of her hands gripping the member while the other grasps his balls, gently stroking them to please the old man.

When she feels him approaching the limit she tries to pull away, but a hand stops her, Ryujin tries harder but the man’s grip is firm and the idol soon feels a thick white liquid flooding her mouth.

Then the old man lets go, laughing as he sees Ryujin spit out the nectar with disgust “You’re done already, aren’t you? If so get the fuck out of here.”

“Not yet, we want your other mouth too” The shadows of the black man and the Russian hover over Ryujin “We can still go on”

“Alright” Ryujin reluctantly agreed trusting that she could end this quickly and take control of the situation, but she couldn’t be more wrong

“Bro, it’s my turn, leave her to me now” The russian puts his hand on the black man’s shoulder and he slides his member out of Ryujin, letting his seed fall quickly, he looks at his partner and smiles “She’s all yours.”

He dropped Ryujin and she supported herself as she could, but as her legs were weak she would have fallen to the ground had it not been for the big Russian man who held her before she fell, Ryujin tried to look into his eyes still trying to recover from the brutal fuck she had just experienced. “Let me rest for a moment please… then I’ll do whatever you want”.

Ryujin’s words only served to make the Soviet man hornier, who without hesitation turned Ryujin around and with one hand slammed her head against the door, getting ready to fuck her doggy style

The old man approached the two of them, he was already dressed again and watched Ryujin with a slight smile “You’re so hot Ryujin, I think I’ll rent you later for something else.”

Ryujin glared angrily at the old man but didn’t complain as he knew it didn’t suit him. The old man placed his hand on the Russian man’s shoulder “Please Andrei, can you do me a favor and break her? I’m willing to pay you if you want” Hearing this the idol tried to let go but Andrei was too strong “Don’t worry Mr. Takahasi, I’m happy to do it.”

“Hey let go of me I don’t want to…” The big Soviet cock plunged inside Ryujin and she couldn’t help replacing her words with a moan, she tried to speak afterwards but another onslaught from the big man had the same effect again.

Shut up and relax bitch, the ones who fight the most are always the ones who enjoy the most in the end” Ryujin’s walls tighten, trying to keep that huge tool from coming out of her “See? You don’t want to admit it but you love what I do, come on, cum and prove me right"

Ryujin didn’t want to give the man reason, but unfortunately for her, her body was no longer obeying her will.

Immediately Ryujin started to squirt and Andrei had to pull out, Ryujin’s juices soaked both the man’s pelvis and the floor “So you’re a squirter eh? I like that” The black man couldn’t help but want to get into action seeing all that, so he brought his cock closer to Ryujin’s mouth and without hesitation she moved her head and stuck her tongue out trying to take the black member between her lips

“Hungry slut” The black man brought his cock closer so Ryujin could wrap her lips over it, then she started sucking hard and dedicatedly to please the man she thought she hated before

Andrei didn’t lag behind and started rubbing his cock against her entrance again “Do you want me to put it back in?” Ryujin let out a choked moan and let the black cock out for a single moment “Please… Fuck me…” Andrei smiled and slammed his manhood through the wet hole and the black for his part grabbed Ryujin’s head and began to fuck her face so roughly that tears began to leak from her eyes.

Ryujin closed her eyes as the two cocks devastated her mouth and pussy, she cummed again and again, falling further and further into the abyss of depravity. As she was being fucked she suddenly heard laughter and footsteps, and when she opened her eyes she discovered three other huge men already naked, this was just the beginning for her…

1 hour… 2 hours… Ryujin had already lost track of time by this time. Every time she got one guy to finish another one came in right after, some even continued after cumming on her several times

By this time Ryujin was sandwiched, one cock was bursting in her pussy while the other was fucking her ass. She wanted to moan but she was not able to as her mouth was also being occupied by another man, besides as she could not leave the others waiting her hands were also at work, masturbating two cocks and preparing them to take over from the ones already in her holes.

Andrei and Mr. Takahasi were sitting on the couch watching what was going on “That bitch is very resilient, she has been here for almost three hours and she is still conscious… may I ask what you need her for, Mr. Takahasi?”

Mr. Takahasi laughed at the question and answered “Nothing that should be important for you Andrei, just shut up and enjoy the girl.”

“I understand that you don’t want to tell me, but please, is it really necessary to record it?” Andrei pointed to a hidden camera in the corner of the dressing room. “You thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Is necessary Andrei, it makes this all the more fucking hotter, now go and fuck her again” Andrei got up reluctantly and forcibly pulled out the one Ryujin was sucking on.

“Ok slut, you like fat cocks don’t you?” Ryujin looked Andrei in the eyes with a mix of happiness and lust and managed to answer between moans “Yes… Please use this slut…” Without waiting any longer Andrei took advantage of the fact that Ryujin’s mouth was open to stick his cock in.

Ryujin sucked hard trying to make him cum fast because she wanted to taste his cum as soon as possible.

The other two were already close, Ryujin’s constant orgasms and her tightness had pushed them to the limit and they couldn’t hold on any longer. The first to cum was the one occupying her ass, he pulled out in time and let his seed fall on her back and ass.

The feeling of the warm semen made Ryujin cum again and push the other guy to finish, but he refused to pull out and released inside. The semen filled Ryujin’s insides and even overflowed, some of it dripping down the boy’s cock

Having finished with the other two Ryujin managed to rush out of the sandwich she was subjected to, She released the cocks she was jerking and stopped sucking Andrei’s cock to kneel on the floor, then grabbed his member again and wrapped her lips around it again.

Her hands went one to his shaft to caress it as she sucked it and the other to his big balls to play with them.

Her gaze went to Andrei’s eyes and it was completely different from the one she had at the beginning, while before her gaze was of fury now it was the gaze of a nymphomaniac

Before she knew it she was cumming already, Ryujin took all of it without any complaints and when he finished she opened her mouth and let his seed slide down her tongue, giving him a sight he would not forget for a long time.

Ryujin continued to get fucked but Mr. Takahasi had enough show for today and was now in his limo talking on the phone with JYP “The girl is good and I have no doubt that she will be useful to me… but I think I would still like to see the other girls because you know… This is a work of five…”

Takahasi looked at the pictures of the girls on his phone “So… Could you sneak me into Yuna’s next “Sex Party”?"

#kpop #kpop smut #itzy #itzy smut #ryujin #ryujin smut #girl group smut #smut

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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nsfw - mdni. reader and gojo are in a semi established relationship it’s a whole thing. reader squirted on his face and he won’t shut up about it. 834 words.

“Any questions?”

Yaga looks around the room at the group of sorcerers in front of him, yourself and Satoru included despite your responsibilities with your respective students, with his arms folded. Someone on the opposite side of the room clears their throat and you don’t bother to look, instead sighing quietly when you hear Gojo’s voice from behind you.

“Bored yet?”

Rolling your eyes, you reach up to try and pinch his cheek to get him away from you but he only bunches closer and you miss. Pinching the soft skin of his earlobe as he leans over your shoulder, you quickly drop your hand and put it in your lap to bring some level of professionalism back to your appearance.

Your efforts make no difference to the man watching you fidget beneath his blindfolded gaze and he continues, whispering right beneath your ear.

“I know I’m bored,” he admits, to the surprise of absolutely no one, “and I keep thinking about last night.”

Turning your face enough that your eyes meet his covered ones, a warning glance is leveled but it only makes him offer you a toothy smile in return. He drapes his opposite arm over your empty shoulder but you don’t put up a fight, afraid to draw attention to yourself in front of a room full of people who shouldn’t even know the two of you spent the night together.

“Can we discuss this later?”

The pleading edge to your tone only pushes him further, his dangling hand now inching back up your arm and wrapping around your shoulder.

“Don’t be shy, princess, you should be proud of yourself.” You groan quietly, stomach turning with equal parts of heat and anxiety recalling exactly what he’s talking about. “Made a big mess all over this pretty face, didn’t you?”

Closing your eyes, you pretend you don’t hear him at all and instead choose to focus on listening to the questions regarding a smaller mission across the country being asked by one of the grade three sorcerers.

Your mind drifts elsewhere, though, to big blue eyes peering up at you while your thighs were spread over his big fat mouth last night. Those hands were full of your hips, lush skin spilling between them, and your cunt was being devoured as if it were his last meal. His enthusiasm was so contagious that it even caught you up in it, your releases coming in spurts of liquid drenching his face and chest with each high he helped you drift to.

Crossing your legs tightly, you pull your mind back into reality by force and try once again to focus despite the menace at your back.

“Didn’t you?” He pesters again after your prolonged silence and you shift, trying to get him off of you and that finally captures the attention of the rest of the room, several heads turning in your direction.

“Is there an issue, Gojo?”

He scoffs at the insinuation that he’s the only one causing a ruckus, you always have been one of Yaga’s favorites so of course you avoid the reprimand, but leans back into his own chair nevertheless.

“Just waitin’ on you to wrap this up.”

An unamused chuckle leaves the principal and you listen to the rustle of clothing from behind you that indicates Satoru is folding his arms over his chest.

“If you’d been paying attention you would have known that we’re done for today.”

Everyone begins standing and Satoru grabs you as you do, hand wrapping around your bicep. Pulling you in his direction, you frown but he doesn’t stop and instead leans down enough that he’s mouth level with your ear once again.

“I’ll make you do it again tonight, I’m feeling a little parched after all this.”

Despite his embarrassing antics, you can’t help but half smile and look up at him through your lashes. He’s incorrigible in every way but you find it too charming to be angry.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “But for the rest of the day you have to leave me alone.”

He nods and you feel grateful that for once he agreed without a hassle, letting go of your arm and heading toward the exit. You exhale, relieved, but he turns on his heel and looks straight at you and the group of your peers standing at your back attempting to make their exit too.

“I can still smell you on me.”

Satoru smirks, sniffing loudly and rubbing his hand over his chin before rounding the opened door and you feel your face heat as everyone turns to look at you, faces giving away their various levels of distress.

Groaning, you slump and your hands slap against the outsides of your thighs.

“He’s talking about perfume! He’s talking about perfume…you saw him earlier.”

An unconvinced murmur seems to be the shared opinion of the entire group that is now making its way out the door, leaving you alone to catch your breath, attempting to explain yourself futile.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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spideyhexx · 5 months ago

Text

12 am thoughts with kit;

more! nsfw! this feels aligned with some past thoughts of fwb academic rivalry coryo...

Coryo straightens out the sleeve of his uniform jacket while you're pulling him around the corner, "Can this wait? I'm gonna be late for class and you know I-"

Your hand presses to his chest with more firmness than he's expecting. With a bit of a push, his back is to the wall in the curved corner, half secluded from the main hallway. You would have to get close to see and most students, if not all, would be in class by this time.

Coriolanus grabs your elbows before you can move, "What do you want?"

"Nothing," you jut your bottom lip slightly at his skeptical expression and wriggle your arms from his grasp.

"Nothing. How many times has it been nothing? Coriolanus it's nothing, you take my pen. Coriolanus it's nothing, beg for me to walk home with you, Coriolanus-"

You place your palm directly over the front of his pants, with enough pressure to get him to shut up. He flushes, mouth parting to speak, but nothing comes out. Coryo glances down, your manicured, perfect hand grasping at him through his pants, making a slight movement. A threat to palm him.

You chew on your bottom lip, waiting for his eyes to find yours again. Once they do, you quickly peck his lips and Coryo's eyes flutter shut.

"Now?" He asks, opening his eyes to quickly glance around. And when he leans too much away to look, you squeeze him through his pants, a gentle one, that gets his breath all shuddery how you like it.

You nod, "it'll be quick."

His jaw sets and he unclips the skirt part of the uniform, "I don't know whether to be insulted by that or relieved," he mumbles, watching you happily find the button and zipper of his pants, undoing it.

"Both, you finish so fast, that is why I said it," you chide at him and move to your knees. Coryo rolls his eyes, leaning his head back on the wall, his hand instinctively on your head before his dick is even out.

It's all clockwork for the two of you.

"Thank you," he snarks, as you push his pants down just enough to put your hand down his boxers and pull him out. Your eyes look up to him, gathering saliva in your mouth then dribbling the spit onto his hardening cock, using your hand to rub it all in.

Coriolanus is not looking at you, head still tilted back on the wall. He is distraught that if he looked at you while you spit on him, he would have to find a way to clean the shoulder of your uniform before the two of you go to class.

Your tongue laps at his tip, and his hand tightens on your head. The slow stroke of your hand, as your tongue swirls his tip, is the exact reason he hates you. You told him you had never done this before him and he is convinced you lied. Because right from the first time you had him in your mouth, you were perfect. Suckling his tip and messing it with your spit, all to get him fully hard. It wasn't the main show. He hated it.

Even here, in a secluded corner of the Academy, you did not seem to mind getting his cock all wet, and he has to bite down hard on his cheek.

"I thought I told you we should stay away from doing this stuff here," he whispers at you, finally taking the chance and looking down at you. You don't respond to him because you're too busy wrapping your lips around him and sucking, slowly taking a little more of him.

You keep your hand wrapped around the base of him, eyes up on him, the pretty blue eyes that look brighter from this angle. He can't help the soft sighs that leave his mouth, but he tries to even stop those, focusing his energy on holding your head.

When you hum against him, he nearly explodes in your mouth, his head going back again and a strained hum leaving his mouth.

If you could smile right now you would. You push on, licking your tongue on the underside of his length as you pull your lips off of him, stroking your hand over him. A quick couple of pumps before you get your mouth back on him, bobbing your head faster.

"Ah..oh...shit," he mutters, his hand moving to the back of your head. Coryo lightly presses on your head to get his cock deeper in your mouth and his hesitancy surprises you. You roll your eyes over it and move forward to take all his cock into your mouth, a shaky moan leaving his lips, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, do you want me to cum down your throat?"

You pinch his thigh.

He hisses at it, "I know, I know, quiet, yeah," he says, breathless and moving your head back a little for you. You know he can't hold back much longer, so you keep your quicker pace for a few seconds, feeling his thigh tense under your hand. Then, you purposely slow till you get to his tip, and suck on it harsher than before. Coryo lets out a whimper breath and bucks his hips forward, spilling into your mouth and watching you take it all, swallowing every single drop.

He pants, letting go of your head and watching you pull back, licking over your lips and at his tip again to clean off any drops, then tuck him back in his boxers. "Huh, how'd you... never mind." Coriolanus thinks questioning how you swallowed all of him without making any sort of mess will just make him hard again.

He gets himself back to decency as you stand up, wiping at your mouth and straightening your own uniform.

Coriolanus is about to say something when you tap his arm, peck his lips, and give him a smile, "See you later, Snow," and you turn on your heel to leave.

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athforskz · 7 months ago

Text

The Art of Cuddling - Kim Seungmin

Masterlist

Pairing: Seungmin x reader (afab)

wc: ~1.1k

Type: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

Warnings: consensual somnophilia, cunninglingus, unprotected piv

a/n: Just some soft and hard thoughts about snuggling with Seungmin. I feel like we don’t get enough soft Minnie (even though I do very much enjoy menace Minnie too).

Enjoy lovelies!

Snuggly!Seungmin who has been your closest friend for years and always took the opportunity to cuddle with you. At first it started with you just laying your head on his shoulders when the both of you watched movies.

Snuggly!Seungmin would eventually invite you to his dorm for a sleepover where he would full on be spooning you from behind in his sleep. You were a bit caught off guard by it at first, but didn’t think too much into it, assuming he wasn’t aware of his actions while sleeping.

Snuggly!Seungmin would wake you up by stroking your hair gently to coax you from drowsiness. “Morning, sleepyhead.” The deep tone to his morning voice startling you while simultaneously stirring something in the pit of your stomach.

Snuggly!Seungmin who eventually made it a routine to either come to yours or have you stay with him every night because neither of you could sleep without being in each other’s arms.

Snuggly!Seungmin finally admits his true feelings for you one day when your legs are tangled with his and his face is buried in your neck. His voice barely above a whisper, afraid of how you would react to his admission.

Snuggly!Seungmin who beams with energy the moment you divulge that you reciprocate his feelings. He takes your face in his hands, planting soft kisses from your forehead down to your lips.

Snuggly!Seungmin who insists that you guys don’t need a king size bed when you finally get a new place together. His reasoning is “we’ll just be wrapped around each other in the middle anyway.” You understand what he’s saying, so why waste the space?

Snuggly!Seungmin will literally lay halfway all the way on top of you if you ever refuse to cuddle with him due to an earlier fight or disagreement. He doesn’t care if you’re trying to ‘teach him a lesson’ he’s going to cuddle with you any way he can.

Snuggly!Seungmin will cuddle with you anywhere. The bed, the couch, in the kitchen while cooking, on the floor, in the shower. You name it, he will find a way to have you in his arms.

Snuggly!Seungmin who pushes your laptop off your lap when you try to get some work done at home. His face is pressed into your side until he pushes the device away and lays his head in your lap instead. You huff at his protest, but elect to run your fingers through his hair letting him know he now has your undivided attention.

Snuggly!Seungmin has the most calming heartbeat to listen to. His heartbeat is pretty much your lullaby as he cradles your head into his chest and traces his fingertips along your spine to help you relax.

Snuggly!Seungmin isn’t afraid to ask you to be the big spoon when he’s had a particularly hard day. He’ll turn into such a baby when craving extra attention from you and you give it to him willingly.

Snuggly!Seungmin gets really sulky when you have to get up early in the mornings. It’s incredibly hard to unhook his arms from around you. He’ll groan and pull you back to his chest while still half asleep. “Minnie, I’m going to be late again. I need to get ready to go.” You’ll tell him. “Nooo, 5 more minutes.” He pleads with you. And you can’t say no to him.

Snuggly!Seungmin who finally lets you get out of bed but not alone. He gets up to stay right behind you, holding onto your waist with his head laying on your shoulder. You’ll both waddle into the bathroom and he will stay holding you while pretty much sleeping standing up as you get ready for the day.

Snuggly!Seungmin will get back in bed once you actually leave and bury his face into your pillow, breathing in your scent to lull him back to sleep until it’s his turn to get up.

Snuggly!Seungmin who wouldn’t dare admit to any of his other friends that he relied heavily on your skinship as much as he did. He needed to maintain his persona if he wanted to be taken seriously. However, all of that goes out the window when they see the lock screen on his phone of just how close you two can get.

Snuggly!Seungmin can’t keep himself away from you if you’re both in the same room. He always wants to be holding you in some way, shape, or form.

Snuggly!Seungmin who will sneak his hands into your pj bottoms on cold nights because your core is radiating with heat to keep him warm. You don’t mind because you do the same to him, sliding your hands into his sweatpants even when you’re not particularly cold.

Snuggly!Seungmin’s favorite cuddling position is to have you flat on your back, your thighs around his shoulders as he lays between them. His head resting on your lower tummy, because “it makes for the comfiest pillow.”

Snuggly!Seungmin who will slowly lower himself to wake you up in the morning with head. His favorite cuddling position giving him easy access to your sweet pussy. All he needs to do is push your sleep shorts and panties to the side.

Snuggly!Seungmin loves hearing your soft whimpers turn into moans as the feeling of his fingers pumping and his lips sucking your clit wake you up.

Snuggly!Seungmin detaches his mouth from you and removes his fingers once you whine about “needing more.” He’ll move up behind you, essentially manhandling you into a spooning position so your ass is flush with his hips. His hard clothed cock pressed in between the crack of your ass.

Snuggly!Seungmin ruts his hips to grind against you, teasing you until you can’t take it anymore and you reach behind to push the waistband of his sweats and boxers down to free his cock leaking with precum.

Snuggly!Seungmin who lets a dark chuckle rumble from his chest as he sees how desperate you are to get him inside you. It’s not your fault, you’re just so sensitive in the mornings.

Snuggly!Seungmin finally obliges your needs and sinks his dick slowly into your aching pussy. He takes it easy at first, hissing at how tight and wet you feel around him before picking up the pace.

Snuggly!Seungmin who loves when you turn into a babbling mess. He’ll make sure your back is pressed against his chest as he pants into your ear and whisper filthy words for only you to hear, “Such a needy pup. Wanting to be stuffed full first thing, huh?”

Snuggly!Seungmin whose eyes roll back as your walls clench around him when you cum, his warm seed flooding you and leaking out onto your inner thighs.

Snuggly!Seungmin who laughs wholeheartedly when you look at the time then scramble to get out of bed because he’s made you late yet again.

Taglist: @doitforbangchan / @jehhskz

#stray kids #skz #mdni #seungmin x you #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin #seungmin fluff #seungmin hard thoughts #seungmin soft thoughts #cuddly Seungmin

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redroomreflections · 12 days ago

Text

The One Where R Burnouts

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe

Note: because having 6 kids, 2 dogs, 1 cat, a wife, in-laws, and working full time is crazy!

Natasha has always been observant; it’s in her nature to understand what’s happening around her. She knows everything about the human condition, including yours. As your wife and best friend, she notices the subtle changes before anyone else. It started with the little things. Your posture was slightly more relaxed than usual, shoulders dragging, eyes unfocused even during serious conversations. Then she noticed your eating habits. Back in law school, when you got busy, she’d remind you to eat, sneaking snacks onto your desk when you’d work late into the night. Now, she watches as you barely touch your plate, your attention fixed on the children instead, engaging with them while pushing your food around.

It’s the empty granola bar wrappers and the premade meal containers left on your desk late at night that concern her the most. You hated processed food slightly less than she did, so the sight of it scattered across your workspace is a surprise. A red flag she can’t ignore.

Then came the snapping. It wasn’t like you, not intentionally, at least. But these days, it seemed like everything irritated you. The smallest things—the mess the kids left behind or the sound of Natasha’s voice asking how your day had been—seemed to trigger something. Natasha could tell you had a million things on your mind. She’d catch you glancing at your calendar repeatedly, the tension in your jaw tightening with each passing minute.

And when night came, you barely made it to bed before falling asleep. The instant your head hit the pillow, you were gone, leaving no room for conversation, let alone the warmth of intimacy that had once come so naturally between the two of you.

Natasha had initially tried to brush it off to give you space, thinking you needed time to work through it. But the distance was growing. The laughter, the lighthearted teasing, the small touches, and stolen kisses—all of it seemed to be slipping away, and it scared her.

One evening, after tucking the kids into bed, Natasha found you in your office again, the door closed. She stood outside for a moment, her hand hovering over the handle, debating whether to give you more time or to finally say something. But she couldn’t wait anymore. You weren’t just burning out—you were burning away, and she was terrified of what might happen if she didn’t step in.

Gently, she opened the door. You were hunched over your desk, papers scattered around you, a half-eaten protein bar next to your laptop. Your hair fell into your face, and the tension in your shoulders made her heartache.

“Hey,” Natasha called softly. You didn’t look up, too focused on whatever task was in front of you.

“Babe,” she tried again, stepping closer and touching your shoulder. You flinched slightly at the touch, and that was enough to break something inside her. “You need to stop. Just for a little while.”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you muttered, brushing her off. But even to your own ears, it sounded hollow.

Natasha knelt beside you, taking your hands in hers, gently prying them from the keyboard. You tried to protest, but she held firm.

When she looked up, the tears in your eyes threatened to spill over. You stared back at her, exhaustion clear on your face, and she knew this wasn’t working.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not for the two of you. After everything, you deserve to be happy and spend time together as a family.

But you were too stubborn, too determined to push through and help people in the way only you could. Natasha had admired that about you and had been amazed by the strength and passion you possessed. Yet you had forgotten about yourself in the process, and Natasha wouldn't stand by and watch you work yourself to death.

“Baby,” She said, licking her lips. It had been so long since she had heard you laugh."You've done so much for so many people. You've sacrificed more than anyone should have to." She paused, running her thumb across your knuckles. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The words were there, at the tip of your tongue, but the truth felt raw, too vulnerable. So, instead, you shook your head.

"There's nothing, Nat," you replied, trying to pull away. “I’m just super busy these days. I want to get this report done for work. Cara has practice tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss it. Luke has an appointment on Thursday. I need a bit more time, and I’ll be done.”

"Stop." Natasha tightened her grip, refusing to let go.

She watched as you sighed, the sound breaking her heart. Your eyes were downcast, your lip quivering, and she could tell you were holding back.

“Natasha, I said I was fine,” You said lowly.

“Is that why you’re shaking like that? When’s the last time you slept a full night?”

You opened your mouth, the words catching in your throat. “Paige was up last night. She couldn’t sleep, so I sat with her.”

"You can't keep doing this," Natasha whispered, kissing your cheek.

You leaned into her touch, a tear sliding down your cheek.

"I'm okay," you murmured, but your voice trembled, betraying your true feelings.

“You’re not,” Natasha replied, brushing her thumb along your skin. Her other hand reached out to steady you. "Can you tell me why you’re running yourself ragged these days? Is work too much? Are we too much? Do you need a break? Tell me.”

Your shoulders dropped, and you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"It's just-" You shook your head. “You know how I get sometimes. My mind gets a little busy, and I have do everything simultaneously. I’ll be fine.”

"No," she said firmly, leaning in closer. "You're not doing this, not now."Her voice softened. "Please, babe, just let me in. Whatever it is, I can help."

She waited, watching as the tension drained from your body. Your eyes were still closed, but a fresh wave of tears was rolling down your cheeks, and her own tears mirrored yours.

"I can't-I can't stop," You finally said, the words coming out in a strangled sob. "Nat, I can't-"

She pulled you close, letting you bury your face in the crook of her neck. You clutched at her desperately, and she held you tight, stroking your back soothingly.

"It's okay, I'm here," Natasha whispered.

The dam finally broke, and you sobbed, your shoulders shaking.

“There’s so much to be done constantly,” You whispered. “I don’t know why, but it’s the truth. Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing myself in all of this. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. I love our kids. I would never regret having a single one of them. Our life together is perfect. It’s just some days I just can’t stop. My mind won’t shut off.”

Natasha held you closer, letting the silence hang heavy around you. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. There was no simple solution. No quick fix that would magically make everything better.

“It’s selfish of me when you’re at home with them,” You leaned against her. “I’m working ten-hour days. I’m ten years into my career, and I’m still working this hard for some need to be the best at everything. The best mom, the best wife. The best friend. I don’t know how to turn it all off.”

Natasha ran her fingers through your hair.

"I just want to be good enough for everyone," you continued. "To make a difference. To matter. To do something."

She kissed the top of your head, her heart aching for you.

"You matter so much, baby," she said. "You matter to me. You're always enough."

She felt you take a shuddering breath, and she knew she had to say something, anything, to get you out of your head.

"We need a change. A vacation," she said. "Away from all this. We'll go somewhere. Just the two of us. Or just you if that’s what you need."

"Nat," You looked up at her, eyes wide and filled with tears.

"I want this to stop," She cupped your face, brushing her thumb over your cheek. "You deserve better. We deserve better. I won't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. How can I help you?”

"Nat, I-," You swallowed thickly, and she waited, watching as you gathered your thoughts.

"I don't know," You admitted, leaning into her touch.

"You're not alone," Natasha whispered. "Never. We'll figure it out. Together."

She pressed her forehead against yours.

"You're so important to me, y/n" she continued. “Seeing you overwork yourself is scary. Please just take a moment. Come to bed with me.”

She pulled away, and you looked at her, a softness in your eyes.

"Will you lay down with me?" She asked. "Just for a little bit?"

You nodded, and she helped you, leading you towards the bedroom. You stopped in the doorway, your gaze falling on the messy sheets.

"I haven't had a chance to clean yet," You mumbled, looking away.

"It's fine, y/n," Natasha said. “We can sleep another night on these sheets. I’ll throw a load in the wash tomorrow.”

She guided you into bed, settling under the covers. She laid back, watching as you curled beside her, resting your head on her chest. You were warm and soft, and the feeling of your body against hers sent a surge of longing through her.

“I truly don’t know,” You began. “Where I can cut back. I just… I like being busy. I do, but it’s so difficult to breathe these days.”

She held you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

"I don't regret our kids," You said suddenly.

"I know, love," She whispered.

"But some days, I think about what it would be like not having them. What our lives would be like."

You paused. "Six kids. Six little lives in my hands. In our hands. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Natasha sighed, rubbing your back.

"I feel selfish for wanting to walk away sometimes," You continued. "For thinking maybe we shouldn't have had them all at once. Maybe it would've been easier."

"You're not selfish, y/n," Natasha murmured. "You're not."

"I love them, and I love being a mom," You said. "I do. I can't imagine life without them. But it's a lot."

Natasha brushed the hair away from your face.

"It is a lot," She agreed.

"Sometimes, I wonder how different things would be. If they weren't ours." You melt back into her arms. "If we had just decided after the miscarriage not to do it. To be happy being aunts to WIllow. Then my heart hurts. It aches so bad because I should be grateful. I should be thankful for all of this. I lost a baby. We lost our child. We got Cara. It was great. I was happy. Then we got the sibling set, and I thought we were crazy for being outnumbered..."

Natasha kissed your temple.

"But then Paige came. Then Luke."

"We wanted it, y/n" she reassured. "All of this. We wanted the kids."

"I know," You whispered. "But I also feel guilty sometimes."

"Guilty?"

"Yes," You admitted. "And I hate myself for thinking that. Because if I could do it all over again, sometimes I think I wouldn't have chosen this for us."

Natasha's eyes burned with tears.

"Why would you ever think that would hurt me?"

"Because you're not like me," You said. "You're strong. You've always been. I'm weak."

"You're not. Stop," Natasha chided. "You are the strongest person I know. I'm serious. Y/n, listen. You're allowed to have feelings. It's okay."

"I just want you to be happy, Nat," You sighed. "I want our kids to have a normal life. I don't want them growing up wondering why their mom is a wreck or that she regrets them. I don't regret them."

"They'll understand one day; if they don't, then it's not the end of the world. We have a lifetime to explain."

"What would we have done? If we didn't have kids?"

"Well," Natasha shrugged. "I'd like to think we would be somewhere fancy. Traveling whenever we want."

"What else?"

"Dinner, maybe," Natasha smiled. "Candlelit. Drinking wine. Slow dancing."

"That sounds nice," You sighed.

"We could do it now," She suggested. "I mean not the travel or the candlelight. But we could put on a record, eat, drink, slow dance."

"I'm a mess."

"We could take a bath."

"Okay," You breathed, closing your eyes.

Natasha leaned down and kissed your forehead.

Natasha smiled gently, her heart swelling with affection for you as she stood up. “Alright, then. Let’s do something nice for you,” she said, her voice soothing as she went to the bathroom. You watched her go, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of her, the way she moved with purpose, knowing exactly what you needed.

In the bathroom, Natasha turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until the warm water flowed. She added a few drops of lavender essential oil, filling the air with a calming scent that instantly began to soothe the edges of your racing thoughts. As the tub filled, she turned her attention to the flickering candles on the edge of the sink, lighting them one by one until the room was filled with a soft, warm glow.

“Come here,” she called softly, her tone inviting. You pushed yourself off the bed, feeling the weight of the day still lingering in your limbs, but Natasha’s presence made it lighter. She stepped aside as you entered the bathroom, gesturing toward the tub.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured, taking a moment to appreciate the cozy atmosphere. You could feel the tension in your shoulders begin to ease as you stepped closer to the warm water.

“Just what you need,” Natasha said, her voice low and comforting. She reached out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering against your skin. “You deserve to unwind.”

With a grateful smile, you began to undress, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and relief as you shed the weight of the day. Natasha helped you step into the tub, the warm water enveloping you like a gentle embrace. You let out a soft sigh as you sank deeper, feeling the heat seep into your muscles, washing away the fatigue.

“See?” Natasha said, leaning against the tub's edge, her arms crossed as she watched you relax. “This is nice, right?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and letting the warmth envelop you. “It is,” you replied, feeling the tension slowly melting. “Thank you for this, Nat.” As she began to leave, you peeked one eye open. "You're not going to leave me alone?"

"I'll stay right here," she assured, moving to the corner of the bathroom and grabbing a fresh towel. She sat on the floor, facing you, leaning against the wall. She crossed her legs, draping the towel over her lap, a smile on her lips. "I'll be right here."

"I was thinking more along the lines of you climbing in," You arched a brow.

"Y/n, you know I love you. I would do anything for you, but I don't want to make it uncomfortable."

"Make what uncomfortable?"

"Well," Natasha gestured around her. "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"Are you worried that seeing me naked is going to give you the urge to jump my bones?"

"You have such a dirty mind, Mrs. Romanoff."

"I have a dirty mouth, too," You winked. "You know, sometimes, you're so sexy when you're not even trying. That's part of the reason why I married you. Not just because you're wonderful, smart, and talented, but you're so gorgeous that it makes my heart ache."

"Y/n," Natasha smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "You're sweet. You're lovely. But I think the hot water is making you a little loopy. Now, just relax."

"But I'm not done with my story."

"Tell me another time," Natasha insisted. "Just close your eyes and listen to my voice."

"No," You shook your head, sitting up straighter. "I'm not going to stop. Not until you get in this tub with me."

Natasha sighed, but there was a fondness in her expression. She knew you were stubborn and that you wouldn't let this go.

"Alright," she said, getting to her feet. "Let me grab another towel."

"There's no need," You replied, reaching out and taking her hand. "Just get in."

"Y/n," Natasha laughed. "This is a little awkward, don't you think?"

"It's not. Just get in. Come on," you tugged on her arm.

With a resigned sigh, Natasha undressed, carefully setting her clothes aside. Your eyes trailed over her, taking in her body's soft curves and subtle lines, admiring her smooth skin. As she slipped into the water, your gaze never left her, a rush of excitement filling you.

"See?" you said, moving closer to her. "Isn't this better?"

"Yes," she breathed, her cheeks flushed, her pupils dilated. She maneuvered herself behind you so you could rest in her arms.

You let out a soft moan as the water lapped against your skin, the warmth enveloping you. As Natasha wrapped her arms around you, her chest pressed against your back, the feeling of her skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine.

"Feels good, right?" Natasha murmured, her voice low and seductive.

"It does," You replied, your eyelids fluttering shut. "I want to be clear about something..." You murmured. "I've never regretted our kids. I've never regretted this life."

"I know."

"I do, but sometimes, I get in my own head. I know you're right there with me, holding me up, but I can't stop thinking. If I don't work hard, how will we have everything we need?"

Natasha kissed the side of your head, her hands resting on your arms.

"We can figure it out. You're not doing this alone, love."

"I know," You sighed. "But some days, it feels like that. Like I'm just treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves."

"I'm here," Natasha whispered, her voice full of tenderness. "Always."

You turned slightly, meeting her gaze.

"I don't want you to worry. About anything." She pressed her forehead against yours.

"I can't help it. I do," You said.

"We're okay, baby. I promise."

You closed your eyes, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you.

"How would you feel," Natasha breathed. "About us possibly getting a nanny?"

"Oh," You raised a brow. "I thought we visited that topic back in New York. It's why your parents moved in with us."

"While true, I think having another set of hands will take the load off," Natasha shrugged.

"What brought this up?"

"Well," She sighed. "You're not the only one that worries. I worry about you, how you feel. And I see how much you care for our kids."

"They're my whole world," You replied.

"I know. I'm not questioning your love for them," She reassured. I've seen enough lately that our work and sacrifices are worth it. We need to take care of ourselves first. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself over the smallest things."

"I'm fine, Nat," You shook your head.

"Please, babe, hear me out," She cupped your cheek. "You're a good mom and an even better wife. But it's okay to ask for help."

"We have the in-laws," You protested.

"Yes, and while they're amazing, they can't care for our kids daily."

"We're outnumbered," You frowned. "We said we would never be. They could overtake us any day now.

"Yes," Natasha chuckled. "I'm glad you're finding humor in this."

"Well, what can we do?"

"Let me look into hiring someone," She said. "We're not saying yes or no yet. I just want you to consider the possibility. If we get a nanny, it means less work for both of us."

"I'm the one having a mental breakdown, and you're home with them every single day," You looked into her eyes.

"It's okay to struggle," Natasha kissed your forehead. "You're human. You're allowed to not be okay. But you're not alone."

"Thank you, love," You whispered.

"Let me take care of you," She brushed her thumb across your cheek.

"Alright," You smiled. "We can look into it."

"We're going to be okay," Natasha said.

"I know," You replied, your heart swelling with affection for her. "Because I have you."

"Always."

The two of you sat silently for a moment, enjoying each other's company. The sound of the water gently lapping against the tub's sides was soothing, and the flickering candles cast a warm glow over the room. As Natasha traced lazy patterns along your skin, you felt the tension leaving your body, replaced with a sense of calm.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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fangirlwriting-stories · 8 months ago

Text

Easier When Unknown

Summary: Danny could have imagined his life would be interesting after everyone learned his secret, but he didn't think it would be this different.

Author's Note: A phic phight fanfiction! Here are the two prompts:

AU where no one knew Danny was Phantom until PP (or some alternate big reveal of the author's choice). Sam and Tucker are sure that a famous hero like Danny Phantom is too cool to be their friend again, especially since they haven't talked since before freshman year of high school. Danny just wants to be part of the trio again and has no idea how to ask.

Danny finds out that Sam's been being bullied at school and has been hiding it from him and Tucker out of embarrassment.

...

Danny’s life definitely didn’t get easier after his identity was revealed, but it didn’t get that much harder, which was good. Right?

Or, well, that was a little bit of an oversimplification. His life definitely got harder in a lot of ways. People stared at him wherever he went. Suddenly all of the popular kids at school wanted to be best friends with him, like he couldn’t see through that change of pace from a mile away. There were news stations constantly vying for the first interview with the half-ghost kid who defeated the Ghost King.

But his parents stopped hunting him. And they were going to try to work things out. And Jazz revealed that she’d actually known for a while now, and that made her more ready to adapt to everything, and she didn’t treat him like anything had changed.

And all of that kind of evened it out, at the end of the day. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to go from town’s enemy to world’s hero.

Because that was another part of this: word of Amity Park, ghosts in general, and what he’d done had been spreading like wildfire since he’d put Pariah Dark back in his coffin. Suddenly everyone was talking about him, and everyone knew him, and, as stated with the aforementioned journalists, everyone wanted to talk to him. He woke up every day to see news trucks that were local and ones that were very much not right outside his house. He’d flown intangibly to school every day for the past month.

Ancients, all this fame needed to die down soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.

He was often so caught up in everything changing all at once, however, that he didn’t have much of a chance to think about things he might want to happen. Which was why he was a little caught off guard that morning. He was running from the daily mob of screaming girls who wanted his autograph (which was never something he thought he’d get sick of), and after getting at least a little bit of a lead on them, he turned intangible and dove through the door to the janitor’s closet, then turned back to normal and rested his hands on his knees, panting slightly to catch his breath.

“Uh,” came a very familiar female voice, and Danny’s head shot up. He found standing on the other side of the closet the one part of his life that hadn’t changed.

And for a long, long moment, he and Sam and Tucker just stared at each other.

Danny’s feelings about Sam and Tucker had never been more mixed. They really were the one aspect of his life that stayed the same post identity-reveal-to-the-entire-world, and he couldn’t decide whether to thank them for the consistency or be pissed at them for the audacity.

Because he hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.

And then his secret was revealed to the entire world.

And he still hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.

“Uh,” Danny said finally, because they couldn’t just all keep staring at each other. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Tucker said. Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

Really, guys. Work with him a little bit, please?

“Are you hiding from people too?” Danny asked, pushing himself up using his knees.

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“I didn’t think you’d be hiding from anyone anymore,” Tucker said, and Danny didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“Um,” Danny said. He didn’t seem to have any more words for Sam and Tucker than he had a year and a half ago.

“Danny!” came from outside the closet, and Danny whirled around instinctually. “Get back here! What makes you think you can run from me?”

“Hey you mind if I hang out here for a bit cool thanks,” Danny said, moving across the closet until he was right across from Sam and Tucker. A second later, the door handle started jiggling, and Danny turned intangible, even though he could feel Sam and Tucker’s stares.

The door swung open and Paulina poked her head in.

“Oh, it’s just you two,” she said, disappointment obvious in her voice. A second later, she perked up. “Hey, you haven’t seen Danny, have you?”

“No,” Sam said, crossing her arms. “Would you back off? We’re trying to hide in a closet here.”

Paulina laughed. “Sure, okay. Have fun, losers.” She slammed the door after herself.

Danny dropped the intangibility as soon as she was gone with a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he said to Sam and Tucker.

“Don’t mention it,” Sam grumbled, and leaned back against the shelf behind her. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to see her, though.”

“Honestly, yeah,” Tucker agreed, giving him a weird look. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d turn down Paulina.”

“It’s not that,” Danny said. “I mean she… she’s not…”

The warning bell rang, and all three of them looked towards the door, where they could hear it outside. For a second afterwards, none of them moved.

Sam did first, pushing herself off the shelf. “Bye,” she said, starting towards the door. Tucker followed her closely.

Danny tried not to make his deflation obvious. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. He turned intangible again, and slipped through the floor, rather than try and go past them.

It was only when he actually made it to his homeroom that he realized he still had no idea why Sam and Tucker were in that closet.

…

“Hey, Fenturd— I mean Fenton!”

Danny heaved an internal sigh and looked up from his tray of food to find Dash and Kwan walking up to his table.

“Are these seats taken?” Dash asked with a grin, gesturing at the as-of-yet empty table around him. He’d gotten to lunch early in order to try and hang on to one.

“Yeah,” Danny said to Dash, leaning over to rest his chin on his hand in what was intended to be a representation of how little he wanted them here. “I’m holding it for all of the ghosts that are going to show up during lunch and blast you across the room.”

“Ha, you’re a riot Fenton!” Dash said, completely ignoring Danny’s tone and face and sliding into the seat next to him. Danny cringed and didn’t bother to hide it, sliding as far away from Dash as he could. Unfortunately, Dash just slid right down after him, which resulted in Danny nearly being pushed off the bench and Dash not noticing.

Kwan followed his lead and took the seat across from Danny, meaning Danny was forced to look in boredom to the side to avoid both of their gazes. He waited a couple extra seconds, but eventually it became clear that neither of them were going to move. So, Danny sighed, resigned himself to his life, and picked up one of his terrible school-lunch chicken nuggets.

“So, we were both thinking that maybe you could come watch one of our practices!” Dash called, slinging an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “The football team’s, I mean.”

“Why would I do that?” Danny asked, making his shoulder go intangible just long enough for Dash’s arm to fall through.

“Well I mean, it would be neat to have you there,” Dash said, glancing across the table at Kwan. “Right Kwan?”

“Totally,” Kwan agreed with a grin of his own. “And I mean, you’re pretty good with athletic stuff. You know, when you’re a cool ghost fighting superhero and not a weak dweeb. Maybe you could come as Phantom, you know, show us some tricks!”

“Gee, that sounds great,” Danny deadpanned. “So am I just supposed to ignore the insults in there, or…?”

“Hey,” came Paulina’s voice, and Danny turned around to see her walking up behind them all. “Can’t you two leave him alone? It’s clear he doesn’t want to be bothered by you.”

Danny blinked in surprise. He really hadn’t expected Paulina to pick up on that. Maybe she actually—

“He’d clearly rather be sitting with me!” Paulina said, reaching down and pulling Danny up by his arm.

“Okay, that’s it!” Danny went intangible again and slipped out of Paulina’s grasp, then grabbed his lunch and walked out of the room, straight through the doors without bothering to open them.

He made his way out to the front steps of the school and sat down, and managed to get through at least a couple bites before he remembered the reason eating outside was also a bad idea. The reminder came in the form of a reporter and a camera man leaping out from what he thought was a normal van sitting across the street.

“Mr Fenton!” called one of them as he ran up towards the steps. “Or would you prefer Mr Phantom?”

“I’d prefer solitude,” Danny snapped, leaning back and away from them both.

“Oh absolutely! Just a couple of quick questions first of course, you wouldn’t mind.”

The door slammed open behind them, and Danny prepared himself for Dash or Paulina again when, to his surprise, Mr Lancer stepped down the steps and stopped right in front of him.

“You’re on school property,” he said, crossing his arms. “You have two minutes to get back in your van and drive away or I am calling the police.”

“Sir, can I ask, how long have you known that one of your students is dead?” the reporter asked, shoving a mic in Lancer’s face.

Lancer raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone, then started dialing 911. Thankfully, the reporters turned and ran back across the street before he could finish.

Lancer turned back around as soon as they were gone. “Are you alright?” he asked, casting a concerned look down at Danny.

“Fine,” Danny muttered, picking up his tray and climbing to his feet. “You know. Great.”

Lancer looked at him for another second, then said, “Mr Fenton, come and eat your lunch in my classroom.”

“What? Why?”

“You can sit out of view from my door,” Lancer said. “It’ll give you a break from the crowds.”

Danny felt a knot in his chest loosen. “Really?”

Lancer gave him a sympathetic frown. “I can’t imagine it’s an easy thing to deal with all the time,” he said. He opened the door again and gestured for Danny to go first, so he did.

And for the first time in a while, he ate his lunch in silence.

…

He wasn’t expecting to see Sam and Tucker again that day. Most of the time his time at school was spent avoiding every single person he possibly could. The morning incident in the janitor’s closet had been a once in a blue moon event.

But, as fate would have it, there was a ghost attack during the last period, and after going and taking care of it (just the Box Ghost showing up as an irritation), he landed behind the school to find Sam and Tucker leaning against the wall and talking.

And while he’d originally come back here to try and avoid all of the cheers he’d get going right back into class, he was sort of regretting that decision now.

Sam and Tucker were clearly deep in conversation, but they noticed when he landed right in front of them, and then they all got to do a lovely repeat of that morning’s staring at each other.

“Hiding again?” Tucker asked eventually.

Danny nodded. “You too?”

Sam nodded.

Danny gave them a curious look. “From what?”

“Danny!”

Danny groaned audibly this time, as Star ran around the side of the building and straight for him.

“That was so cool the way you just flew off like that!” she called. “Not a second thought to how you might be putting yourself in danger!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said, already starting to fly away. “Make my excuses in class, will you? Got to get this really dangerous ghost back to the portal right away and send him through to the ghost zone. Great thanks bye!”

He flew off maybe a little bit too quickly for the given situation, but he couldn’t stand another second there, and school was basically over anyway. He made it home pretty quickly, and thankfully wasn’t stopped by any news outlets on the way, though that was likely because he made the whole trip while intangible.

But while he made it inside without any fuss, as soon as he flew down to the lab he was greeted with his parents working on what looked like a weapon of some kind.

He winced. He was never quite able to stop the touch of fear that came with his parents working on a ghost weapon. After a second, though, he floated down to the ground anyway and changed back from his ghost form.

Both his parents startled and looked over at him.

“Danny,” his mom said. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah uh, ghost fight in last period,” Danny muttered, heading over towards the portal and attaching the thermos to it. “School was already basically over, so I just came home.” He hit the button on the side of the portal and sent the Box Ghost flying into the portal, crying out dramatically all the way.

“Well that’s nice,” Mom said, the tension in her voice obvious.

“Yeah, uh, anyway I have homework,” Danny said, starting for the steps. He had a feeling flying up through the ceiling wouldn’t be a great idea right now.

“Will we see you for dinner, Danno?” Dad asked. “We were hoping to all eat together tonight.”

Danny tightened his grip on the railing of the stairs. “Okay.”

He considered asking what they’d be having, but given the tension in the room he really didn’t think he could spend much more time in the lab.

So instead, he just said “See you later,” and headed upstairs.

It’s not that his parents had reacted badly to the Phantom news. They’d done the important stuff, they’d given him a huge apology and stopped actively hunting him. But none of them seemed to really know where they stood with each other anymore. Danny didn’t logically think they were going to hurt him anymore, but it was difficult to get rid of that fear response that for the longest time, it made sense to have.

But at the same time, he could tell it made them feel guilty to see him be scared of them. Jazz said it wasn’t his fault, and she was probably right. But he still hated it.

He started first for his bedroom, and made it part of the way through the living room when the front door opened and Jazz sprinted in, slamming the door shut on nearly a dozen reporters. Danny could still hear their voice through the door after it shut. Some were asking how it felt to be the brother of a hero, some were asking how long she’d known and how she’d found out, and some were asking how it felt to know her brother was dead.

Jazz heaved out a breath, though all of the reporters were still easily heard through the windows. Then she looked up and met eyes with Danny.

“Oh hey,” she said, clearly still exhausted. “How was school?”

Danny didn’t respond, instead gazing out the gap in the curtains to the people shoving cameras in it.

“Sorry,” he said to Jazz.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Jazz said. “I know you hate them as much as I do.”

Danny sighed and looked down. “Yeah.”

“Are you doing okay?” Jazz asked hesitantly. “I’m sure it’s… a lot.”

Danny snorted. “Understatement.”

Jazz smiled a little. “Yeah.”

Danny turned to face her more directly, chewing on his lip. He’d avoided the topic with her so far, mostly because too much was going on, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been desperately curious. “Can I…” he said hesitantly. “Can I be like one of those awful reporters and ask you how you found out?”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not a reporter, you’re my brother. And I know if I tell you it’s not going to end up on the 5:00 news.”

She paused, and turned and glanced out the windows for a moment. “You want to go upstairs, though?”

“Yes,” Danny said immediately.

So they both ended up in Jazz’s room, sitting next to each other on her bed, with the curtains drawn tight in case the helicopters came back.

“I found out during the Spectra thing,” Jazz started. “I spotted you transforming.”

Danny nodded, thinking about that. “Okay,” he said quietly. “And… why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to wait until you wanted to tell me,” Jazz said. She sighed, and glanced towards the windows. “I guess that didn’t really work out.”

“No,” Danny muttered. “But… I appreciate the sentiment.”

Jazz turned to look at him, concerned. “Are you doing okay? I mean, obviously not, just… you know.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. “I always hoped that everyone would learn my secret in the aftermath of an exhausting battle when I was definitely not prepared for them to learn, and then I’d be hounded by literally everyone who suddenly feels entitled to my attention and my time. Dream come true, this is.”

“I’m really sorry it turned out this way,” Jazz said quietly.

Danny sighed. “Me too.”

“Is there anything I could do to be helpful?” Jazz asked.

“Do you know if anyone’s figured out time travel yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Dammit.”

There was a moment of silence, and Jazz said, “I mean it.”

Danny shook his head. “There’s nothing you could do that you aren’t already doing,” he said. “You’re not looking at me different. Like your entire worldview’s been flipped on its head. Which, I mean I guess for a lot of people it has, but… still. It’s nice that you’re not.”

Jazz was quiet for a moment, and then she reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. And despite how totally lame it was to hug his sister, Danny did the same back.

“Still, if you want me to stand in between you and anyone, just let me know,” Jazz said.

“I wouldn’t ask you do that,” Danny said, pulling back, though he was smiling a little. “I can just fly away from the news vans, and go intangible to get away from the helicopters. And Lancer already gave me permission to hide in his office during school hours if I ever need to.”

“Good,” Jazz said with a nod. She paused for a second, and Danny got the feeling she was about to ask something delicate. He was proven right when a second later she said, “And what about Sam and Tucker?”

“What about them?” Danny said, glaring away. “We’ve said about ten words to each other since everything happened. And about half of them are ‘um.’”

…Okay, so maybe he’s a little more bitter than he realized. He sighed.

“I can’t expect everything to suddenly change,” he said, turning back to Jazz. “Our falling out had nothing to do with Phantom.”

Or, it technically did. Their falling out had been because he constantly ditched them and left mid-way through hangouts. Because he was Phantom, and had to go fight whatever ghost had shown up. But they didn’t know that at the time. And it had been over a year since they’d talked. They had probably moved on.

“You should still talk to them,” Jazz said. “And I mean really talk to them.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see much of an opportunity for that in between getting interrupted every ten seconds, either by classmates or reporters,” Danny said. He paused, and turned to look at Jazz as a realization struck him. “Hey, how are you doing with all that, by the way? It doesn’t look like the reporters are leaving you alone.”

“They’re definitely not,” Jazz said. “But I can handle myself. Besides, they tend to leave me alone as soon as they see you.”

Danny smiled a bit. “Glad I can take that off your shoulders for you.”

“Oh yeah, if anything you owe me,” Jazz said with a smile. “After everything I did for you?”

“I think I’ve saved your life three times now.”

“Do my dishes for a month and we’re even.”

Danny snorted. “Sure, you got it.” He took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had when he got home.

“Hey, thanks, Jazz,” he said, looking over at her. “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

“Anytime,” Jazz said, smiling warmly at him. “I mean it.”

…

The next day didn’t start much better, with flying invisibly to school and hiding in various places until first period starts, but Danny found himself in a better mood despite it. Talking with Jazz had helped, and knowing he’d have a quiet place to eat lunch helped too.

He still didn’t love being swarmed in the halls on his way to his first period after the warning bell rang, though. Maybe he could use his well-established reputation for being late for everything and just hide until the halls were empty between classes.

…Or would that not work anymore because everyone knew the reason?

Well, he’d give it a shot anyway.

First period was uneventful, thankfully, aside from everyone spending the period staring at him while he was trying to focus, which was nothing new. He could tell it was irritating both him and the teacher, however, because eventually he set his chalk down from writing math equations on the board.

“Anyone who doesn’t stop staring at Mr Fenton loses an entire letter grade on the next test,” he snapped. “This is school, this is not your free time. Mr Fenton, thank you for at least trying to pay attention.”

“Anytime,” Danny deadpanned, because he wasn’t about to turn down a compliment from a teacher, and he really was trying.

Apparently the threat of losing a letter grade was only enough to sway a couple students, though, likely the ones who hadn’t entirely given up on their grades like he had.

(Although maybe the administration would go easier on him now…?)

Either way, he managed to get at least some of the notes down by the end of the class, and going up to the teacher to ask if there was anything else he absolutely needed to have written down seemed to put him on his better side. Being a teacher’s favorite was also something he wasn’t used to.

And as a second bonus, staying behind and finishing the notes resulted in a late pass, meaning he could wait until everyone had filed out of the hallway.

Or at least, he thought that’s what he was doing.

Instead, as he turned a corner towards his next period, he stumbled across Dash shoving someone inside a locker. And instead of adding him to the bunch like he used to, when Dash spotting him he brightened.

“Fenton! You want to help me stuff these losers in here?”

“Not really,” Danny said, starting over towards them to help out whoever he was bullying. “You know, if you’re really trying to get on my good side, you might try—” he stopped as he reached the locker.

Well, apparently Dash really didn’t care about getting on his good side, because staring back out at him were Sam and Tucker.

“Uh, hey Danny,” Tucker said, waving at him from inside the locker.

Danny turned back to Dash, raising an eyebrow in what hopefully came across as “are you fucking kidding me.”

“Aw, come on, you’re not trying to say you still care about these losers,” Dash said, like the very idea was ridiculous. “You can hang out with anyone you want now! By the way, you’re still coming to football practice later, right?”

“Probably not,” Danny snapped. He held a hand out to Tucker, who grabbed it. Danny turned him intangible and pulled Tucker out until he could stand on the floor.

Tucker looked a little off balance after he let go, but Sam still grabbed his hand when he offered the same to her.

“Okay,” Tucker said as Danny set Sam down. “A little warning next time maybe?”

“Sorry,” Danny said. He glared back over at Dash. “Beat it.”

“Aw come on Fenton, you know I didn’t mean anything by it, I just—”

“Beat it or I tell everyone about that time you wet your pants after I saved your life from the Box Ghost.”

Dash went pale, and then quickly left.

“Wait,” Sam said. “Really?”

Danny snorted. “Oh yeah,” he said, turning back to face them. “I could tell you stories about what Dash is like when he’s in danger.” He paused, looking at them both in concern. “Are you guys okay?”

Sam glared away, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she muttered, a note in her voice that Danny couldn’t read.

“Thanks for the help,” Tucker said. And then they both turned around, clearly about to leave.

“Wait!” Danny yelled after them. “I— please.”

They both turned hesitantly back around.

“We’re late for class,” Sam said.

“I’ll tell them you got caught up in a ghost attack,” Danny said. “Just, please can we talk? Just once, and then we can be done. Okay?”

They both exchanged a glance, and seemed to say something to each other with their eyes that Danny couldn’t read anymore.

Finally, they turned back to face him, and they both nodded.

“Where?” Tucker asked.

Well, eventually the bell was going to ring, and then the hall would flood with people who wouldn’t leave them alone. And if they went outside, they’d be met with a similar problem, just with the news crews instead of students. And if they were going to pretend a ghost attack happened, they should probably go somewhere to make it at least a little more believable.

“How do you feel about the roof?” Danny asked.

“Uh,” Tucker said. “Have you been there?”

Danny nodded. “It’s… quiet. Sometimes.”

They were both quiet for another moment, then Sam nodded. “Okay.”

Danny started over to them, glanced at Tucker and said, “This is your warning,” and then grabbed them both by the arms, transformed, and flew them all up through the ceiling and onto the roof.

Tucker stumbled a little as Danny let go of him. “Okay,” he said. “Needed a different kind of warning there.”

Danny smiled a little bit. “Be glad you’ve never fallen through the floor in your sleep.”

“That’s not really something I’ve ever thought would happen to me,” Tucker said.

“Tell me about it.”

There’s a couple seconds of silence, and Tucker and Sam exchanged another glance.

Finally, Sam turned back to him and crossed her arms. “So,” she said. “You’re Phantom.”

Danny sighed. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask…” Tucker started. “I mean what— like how did you become— it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he added quickly, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to.”

Danny looked at him for a second. It was definitely the same question he was sick of getting from other classmates and the reporters. But Tucker at least had given him an out. And if this really was going to be the last time they talked, he wanted them to know everything.

“You remember the portal in my parent’s lab?” he asked. “How I told you it just started working one day?”

Tucker nodded.

“That’s… not actually true. I turned it on. From… from inside.”

Tucker’s eyes widened. “Dude.”

Danny gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”

“What happened with the ghost fighting?” Sam asked. “I mean did you get pulled into that, or…?”

“What? No,” Danny said. “I mean, kind of, sure, but someone had to do it. I wasn’t going to let people get hurt.”

“But— you got hurt,” Sam said, gesturing at him. “All the time. We talked about it around you. Back when— when we were still talking.”

Danny shrugged. “I can take it. Normal humans can’t.”

The phrasing seemed to throw them off, which was fair, but he didn’t take it back. He wasn’t a normal human anymore.

“Still,” Sam said finally. “You should have told us. We could have helped you.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped. “I know,” he muttered. “I— I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“On the news?” Tucker asked. “Along with everyone else? Like we weren’t any different from them?”

Danny winced. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“If I knew everyone was going to find out, I would have told you first,” he added. “For what it’s worth.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked.

“It just… it felt so big,” Danny said, shaking his head. “And I didn’t know how you’d react. And… I’m sorry.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Danny wasn’t sure what exactly they were waiting for, but eventually he had to help fill the silence.

“How long has Dash been bothering you?” he asked.

Both of them immediately looked away.

“Oh, come on. You can’t make this conversation entirely about me.”

“We can’t?” Sam asked raising an eyebrow.

“No. That’s not fair to me or you.”

Sam glared away again.

“Pretty much since everyone found out,” Tucker said a second later. “I guess he figured he couldn’t mess with you anymore so he moved on to easier targets.”

Danny clenched his fists. “Asshole. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tucker said.

“No, I just mean,” Danny gestured vaguely with his hands, not sure what he meant. “God, I’m so sick of him. Of all of them.”

Tucker gave him a look. “You really don’t like all the praise?”

Danny shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it beats being hunted.”

Tucker and Sam were both silent for a minute. Danny looked at them for a second and saw slight horror on their faces.

Oh. Maybe they hadn’t quite realized that part yet.

“You could have told me about Dash, you know,” Danny said, trying to stop them from thinking too much about that. “I would have helped.”

“We… kind of didn’t think you’d care,” Tucker said hesitantly.

Danny blinked. “What?” he asked.

“I mean, you are kind of a big deal now,” Sam said, gesturing at him.

Danny crossed his arms. “I’m sorry? Did you miss the part where I didn’t want to be?”

“No, I just mean—” Sam started.

“Yeah, I should go hang out with Dash, huh? Or start dating Paulina? Wouldn’t that be just great?”

Sam blinked at him. “Would it not?”

“Of course not,” Danny snapped. “None of them actually give a shit about me. They all just think it’ll get them something if they’re best friends with Phantom. They still don’t like Danny. I don’t want to be friends with people who only ever see one side of me. That—” he looked away. “That already didn’t work.”

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. “Sorry.”

Danny sighed. “It’s okay,” he muttered.

There was another long stretch of silence.

“That wasn’t the only reason, you know,” Sam said.

Danny looked up at her. “What wasn’t?”

“That we didn’t tell you. Or— I guess I can’t speak for Tucker. But it was just kind of embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“I meant it when I said I noticed you were getting hurt all the time,” Sam said, looking down at the ground. “You’re fighting actual ghosts, and I’m supposed to come up to you and say ‘hey Dash is being mean to me?’”

Danny stared at her. “Sam,” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have put the ghosts on hold.”

“I don’t want to call you for backup every time I need help,” Sam snapped. “You’re not like— my bodyguard. Even if we had spoken in the last year.”

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment,” Danny said, because he did. “But you— I hate it when you guys are hurt.”

“We hate it when you’re hurt too,” Tucker said, looking pointedly at him. “It’s why we didn’t exactly love it when you pushed away while you were so obviously dealing with something.”

Danny winced. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have told you.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Tucker said. And then all of them stood there, none of them saying anything.

Tucker broke the silence again, this time with a sigh. “But for what it’s worth?” he said. “Thanks for saving everyone all the time. And for recently, with that weird ghost king guy.”

Danny nodded. “Anytime,” he said. He didn’t have to tell them the part about how he thought he was going to die. Again.

“And, you know, for what it’s worth?” he said instead. “Thanks for trying. While I was being an idiot. Sorry I didn’t let you help me.”

“How about this,” Tucker said. “We’ll be there to help you as Danny and Phantom if you kick Dash across the football field once or twice.”

Danny blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“That sound good to you, Sam?” Tucker asked, glancing at her.

“Yeah, I wanna see that,” Sam said with a nod. “And I’d like to learn how to kick some ghost butt.” She smirked over at Danny. “Maybe I’ll start with yours.”

“Wait, I thought,” Danny said, looking back and forth between them both. “I thought we said we’d be done after this.”

“Are you kidding? You think you’re getting rid of us again?” Sam asked. “Now that we finally know what’s been going on with you?”

“Sorry, you’re stuck with us this time,” Tucker said, crossing his arms with a grin. “Like we’re gonna let your total loser half go unacknowledged. You can’t be Phantom all the time. Sometimes you have to get teased for how much you like NASA.”

“Or get your butt kicked in Doomed,” Sam chimed in. She raised an eyebrow. “Sound good?”

Danny didn’t try to hide his smile at all, and instead he closed the space between the three of them and wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker in a hug.

“That sounds great,” he said, meaning every word.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #dash baxter #maddie fenton #jack fenton #phic phight #my fic

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aph-mable · 1 year ago

Text

dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther.

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways.

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything.

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky.

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book.

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!”

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands.

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show.

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught.

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun.

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach.

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place.

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap.

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off.

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that.

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them.

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy.

Yeah, no.

“Wow you people are pathetic.”

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise.

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another.

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace.

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1

#dyslexia #long reads #batfamily #bruce wayne #clark kent #disabled danny #wheelchair au #jon kent #damian wayne #the riddler #scarecrow #patrol partners event 2023 #mild violence #swearing #dpxdc #autistic writers

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