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daylighted · 3 months ago

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bed chem — jj maybank x pogue!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, pogue!reader. best friends... with benefits?. making out. fade to black ending.

❛ how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, that's bed chem! ❜

jj was very obvious in the way that he wanted you. he’d preach the outdated no pogue on pogue macking rule to the moon and back, and then show up at your house, practically down on his knees begging for just one chance.

just one! he’d treat you so right, that’s all he needed.

and you did love him, he was one of your best friends, but you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship for one night with him. he was hot, but not hot enough to lose.

you two were practically attached at the hip. you spent every moment with him, or him and the rest of the pogues, and he spent every moment with you that he wasn’t crashing at john b’s.

it really was inevitable, that slowburning transition between friendship to attraction. you just thought that you’d always be strong enough to ignore it.

but you’d never been this high with jj before. he always kept a blunt on him, especially on days that he came to see you, but this time, he’d brought a sketchy looking bag of edibles along with him. “ricky made ‘em,” he’d snickered on his way into your house, shoving the door open with his shoulder before you could even fully open it, “and they work fuckin’ good.”

and so you ate an entirety of one of the brownies ( because jj dared you wouldn’t do the whole thing, and you can’t just let him win ) and you shared the blunt with jj while the sunset dipped into deeper shades of orange.

and jj stares at you like you were the one responsible for hanging the moon poking between the trees.

and you stare back.

and suddenly he’s leaning in, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, does it? his white jacket clings to his strong frame, tight around the shoulders, and at some point he’d lost his shirt even though he immediately started complaining about being cold, and you can see th expanse of his muscles from his chest down to—

“nuh uh,” you say once his nose brushes yours, shoving him away with a palm over his face. “this is a bad idea.”

your voice sounds weak in your own ears. and it must be even worse in jj’s, because his grin is lazy and borderline a smirk, chapped lips against the heel of your palm.

“m’not really one for good ideas,” he mumbles, and his lips trail a hot line from your palm and up; your inner wrist, the inside of your arm.

shivers trail down your spine from those simple touches alone. heat pools in your lower stomach, lower, and it’s a bit embarrassing that such little things are affecting you like this; but you’re about as baked as those brownies, and it’s not really you’re fault.

“mm, i’m gettin’ to ya,” jj says, and for a second, the illusion he had you under shatters. he always ruins it by opening his mouth, reminding you that he’s still that best friend of yours since you were toddling around the sandy shores outside of his house.

unfortunately for you, that’s seeming less like a factor to keep him away from you and more like a reason to pull him closer. in reality, who else out there would know what you liked and needed better than someone that’d seen you almost drown a few times when learning to swim? or was there and helped after you greened out for the first time?

yeah. he really was getting to you.

but you honestly didn’t seem to mind much at that point, with the way your fist uncurls and your fingers land in his hair, pushing back the soft, tangled strands from his forehead.

his eyes close. yours stay open. and in a blink, you’re leaning over the edge of the porch chair you’d been sitting in, and your fingers are using the light grip you had on his hair to pull him closer.

and you’re kissing him. god, you’re kissing jj maybank. he’d seen you in diapers. you’d seen him drink so much that he threw up three times in the same ten minutes. he’d seen you cry over wilting flowers when you were high. you’d seen him eat a cricket for five bucks.

there wasn’t anyone else in the world, you realized, that you wanted between your legs than him. right now. like, right now.

he��s already got his tongue past the barricade of your closed lips, half raised out of his own chair so he can grab onto the front of your shirt and pull you closer into him.

he tastes like dark chocolate and weed and bad decisions. he tastes like the best thing you’d ever put in your mouth.

before you know it, he’s dragged you into his lap, his back falling haphazardly backwards until it presses into the pillowed cushion behind him. his hands are on your ass, fingers digging into the soft skin beneath your shorts.

“think we should go inside,” he mumbles into your mouth, barely making the effort to stop kissing you to push the words out of his lips. “don’t want you gettin’ mosquito bites on your pussy because of me or somethin’.”

you splutter out a laugh, breaking the kiss to shove firmly at his chest. “oh my god, jj.”

“oh my god, jj,” he mocks in a higher cadence, leaning up to capture your lips in another lazy, slow kiss. “you gonna let me hear you cry that out tonight, or you just gonna blue ball me again?”

he was so infuriating sometimes. so stupid, and infuriating — so why was your mouth drying up all of a sudden at the thought of getting him in bed with you?

it must show on your face, too, every stage of denial you tried to enforce on yourself before you conceded, because his red-rimmed blue eyes darken.

jj’s hands slip down from your ass to your thighs, scooping you up and standing in one fell swoop. you’d think it was impressive for how inebriated it was — if he wasn’t high all the time enough to have gotten good at this kind of thing.

you don’t regret anything. at least, right then you didn’t. not when he knows without having to ask where your bedroom is, and not when you know he intends to make well on his promise to only need a night to get you addicted.

#──★ dahlia's jrnl #──★ short n' sweet #divider by ianrkives #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #outer banks #obx #outer banks one shot #obx one shot #obx season 4

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago

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Mignon's Halloween

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: The eleventh of my Halloween-centric fics

It's Jana that finds the headline first. It's Jana who opens her phone one day on camp to see it trending.

'Barcelona Superstar to Return to her Childhood Club?'

With her contract running out in the summer, question marks over whether young French star y/n l/n will stay at Barcelona remain but eagle eyed fans think they've solved the mystery.

In a recent TikTok posted on her girlfriend's account, the young star seems to have been pictured wearing her old Olympique Lyonnais jersey.

Click Read More below to see what our experts think of this startling discovery:

It's Jana that slides her phone over to Alexia at breakfast. It's Jana who has to explain that the site looks kind of sketchy and it likely isn't true.

But then you start posting things while you're away on camp with France.

Most of it is harmless stuff. The kind of stuff Alexia expects from a teenager back in their home country - a few harmless pranks on your teammates, a picture of you and your parents, a cute video of you kissing your girlfriend's cheek.

But then there's a random selfie of you in your childhood bedroom.

You're relaxed back on your pillows, your family dog laying on your chest.

His snout is covering the emblem over your heart but Alexia can recognise a Lyon jersey anywhere.

That's when she gets a bit worried.

You left Lyon because you wanted game time they wouldn't give you. You'd pushed a bit too hard for game time and they'd told you they weren't going to renew your contract.

Surely you wouldn't go back to them now.

Surely even if they begged and begged and begged, you'd hold yourself in a high enough regard that you wouldn't go back to them.

But the Lyon shirt pops up a few more times while you're away.

There's even a video of your girlfriend wearing one of your old jerseys as she walks her own dog.

"Don't tell me you're stalking the girlfriend now," Mapi gripes as Alexia stares down at her phone," The kids can have fun without you hovering over them."

"I'm not stalking anyone!"

"You haven't even met her girlfriend yet you follow her on every bit of social media you can find her on."

"That's for safety. I'm making sure she's a good one."

"I think y/n is capable of choosing her own girlfriend."

Alexia makes a face and Mapi corrects herself.

"I think y/n's parents are capable of approving a good girlfriend. Don't be so worried."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Alexia mutters, looking up from her phone when you finally walk in with Vicky.

The both of you are speaking in hushed whispers, giggling to yourselves until you both split off to go to your own cubbies.

Back when Lucy still played with the team, your cubby used to be next to hers but now that she's gone back to England, you've been moved next to Alexia so she can keep an eye on you.

"So," She says, trying to be as casual as she can," How was camp?"

You give her an odd look. "Yeah it was alright. But you know that already. Because you're a stalker."

"Why does everyone think I'm a stalker?!"

"You follow my girlfriend on all your social media. You didn't even create a fake account."

"Fake account? What's that?"

You smile at her, the same smile that Vicky does at camp when Alexia tries to show off one of those dances from TikTok that she knows young people like.

"Don't worry about it." You pull on your training shirt. "Is the Halloween party thing still on for tonight?"

"Yes, why?"

"Just checking. I might be a little late though. I've got a meeting with my agent."

Alexia tries to make it seem like she's not all that interested in it but she isn't quite sure it works. "Oh? What about?"

"Just contract stuff. I'm going to head off with Vicky before training," You say," We're going to see if we can break into the vending machine again."

Normally, Alexia would try to stop you but her eyes catch on the familiar white of the Lyon shirt you have stuffed in your bag.

The sinking feeling in Alexia's chest returns in full force, staying with her for most of the day to the point that she finds herself glancing at you much more than she usually does.

"She's not going to just up and leave," Patri says that evening at the Halloween party," She loves it here."

"She had Lucy here with her," Alexia points out," They spoke French together. None of us speak French. What if she misses speaking French?"

Irene rolls her eyes, slightly preoccupied with making sure that her son isn't eating all of the sweets that Marta has been spoiling him with. "She calls her parents regularly. She calls her girlfriend. And I can speak French. She's not been missing the French language in the slightest."

"But what if-"

"If she's leaving us," Marta says, reaching across the table to give Matteo another skittle," Then it won't be for Lyon."

Alexia finds it kind of hard to believe Marta when she's dressed in an inflatable pig costume.

"She's meeting with her agent and-"

"And she's here," Patri interrupts, chin jerking towards the door that you've just slipped in through.

"She's wearing it!" Alexia hisses, heart thumping in her chest," The Lyon shirt! She's wearing it! This is it. This is it. She's leaving us."

"No way!" Vicky laughs from across the room," You actually did it?"

You grin back at her, showing off your ripped shirt. "I think Laporta thought I was crazy when I pulled out the scissors and the lighter. What do you think? Do I look axe-murderer victim enough?"

"Do you mind if we add blood?" Vicky asks.

"You have fake blood? You should have led with that!"

You and Vicky barely take a moment to look at the congregation of captains at the table before you're pouring blood all over your head and shirt, really rubbing it all over the white fabric.

Alexia's mouth hangs up just as Jana's phone chimes with a notification from the Barcelona Femení account.

Happy Halloween Culers!

FRENCH SUPERSTAR HERE TO STAY! Find out more below!⬇️

#woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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undreaming-fanfiction · 11 months ago

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I don't even have a clear storyline in mind for this, but I just really, really want to see a modern AU with Eddie as a detective who investigates the Harrington Pharma company. The company is huge and looks clean on paper, but Eddie has a nose for these things, he knows something is wrong. He knows that Richard Harrington ran some sketchy trials and some of Wayne's friends have lifelong health issues, Chief Jim Hopper included.

The company looks almost impenetrable, but Eddie digs. No detail is too small for him. He crosses paths with the owner's son and a board member, Steve Harrington. Eddie despises him. A fucking rich kid, making millions out of other people's misery. His public appearances are well rehearsed, but Eddie knows his type. A shallow, pretty partying douchebag who hasn't had to work a single day in his life. His PR manager Robin Buckley seems way too decent to work with such a bunch of assholes, but Eddie's seen what money can do to people. Either way she's corrupt too.

He meets the younger Harrington several times. The handsome young man is not openly hostile, but he's condescending, bitchy and he looks at Eddie as if he were dirt. "Good luck with your efforts," he sneers when he sees Eddie digging through the public records of Harrington Pharma. "But maybe get a real hobby instead? I hear golf is nice." Eddie wants to murder him.

Eddie cooperates with an investigative journalist, Nancy Wheeler, who keeps all her cards close to her chest, but she still points him in the right direction several times. He collects evidence, partners up with the public prosecutor Joyce Byers. He even meets her son, Jonathan, who is able to get the most damning photographic evidence. No one fully trusts each other, but that's okay. Harrington Pharma is their shared enemy and that's enough.

One day, Eddie makes a mistake. He sneaks into the Harrington Pharma archives and miscalculates the guard shifts. He's stuck hiding under an old desk for hours, he's slowly losing hope, he has no way to contact anyone, his legs are cramping and he's exhausted, but then he hears a familiar voice talking with the guard.

"Hi, Tommy. All good? How's Carol and the kids? That's wonderful to hear. I just need to verify some records for dad, it's not a big deal. Have you had your smoke break yet? You can go, stretch your legs. I'll be here for at least half an hour."

Shit. It's Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie tries to stay still and will his muscles to cooperate, and he thinks he's doing a great job, but then-

"You can come out now. He's gone."

Eddie freezes. How the fuck does he know?

Harrington's voice is quiet, urgent. "Damn it, Munson! You have ten minutes tops before he comes back, so stop playing hide and seek with me!"

He manages to get back on his feet, uncertain and wobbly, and when he sees Harrington leaning over the desk, he's half ready for a fight. But the other man doesn't make a move, doesn't call out to anyone. He just hands Eddie a folder, some of them are the files he selected, but some are new. "I added a few that you missed," hisses Harrington and leans into the corridor. "I'll go first, get Tommy to focus somewhere else. You run to the right and pray to anyone willing to listen. And most importantly," he says, and shit, Steve Harrington can sound serious if he wants to!, "I never saw you here. You heard me come in, used the opportunity and bolted. Clear?"

Eddie just nods. He watches as Steve extends his arm, probably grabbing Tommy by the shoulders and leading him to the other end of the building, he sneaks as far as he can and then he madly dashes for the hole in the fence he made earlier.

The files are it. With all the evidence Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie collected, Joyce can finally take that dark empire down. Eddie is there every day, watches the trial, but then he hears that there are two witnesses for the prosecution from inside the company itself.

It's Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

He sees Steve give him a wink from the stand and he wants to kiss the man. Eddie hears all of it in the following days - how Steve used to date Nancy Wheeler, but then her best friend Barb Holland died due to a mishandled drug trial for her condition by Harrington Pharma. How Nancy broke up with Steve, but even with no chance of rekindling their relationship, he vowed to stop his father for good. How he worked in the company for years, climbed the ladder, managed to make enough connections to get his friend Robin Buckley the position of a PR manager. How she helped him to keep up the charade until the very end.

When the Harrington empire finally falls, Eddie watches quietly as Steve embraces Nancy, whispering to her that she did so well, that Barb would be proud. "We finally did it, Nance. We're finally free."

And then, before Eddie can disappear, Harrington is walking towards him, the mask finally off. He looks younger now, his smile is genuine and Eddie can't help it, his traitorous heart is telling him that this is the single part of the Harrington case he'll never leave behind.

"Hi," says Steve. "I...uh. I just wanted to say sorry for all the nasty things I said before. I had to for my cover, but...I just want you to know, I really appreciate what you did."

Eddie just stares at him, blush forming on his cheeks and a crush blooming in his heart. "I'm pretty sure I just butchered your career," he mutters. "And you're thanking me?"

Steve shrugs. "I mean. I'm out of job, I'm a known whistleblower now and my dad's lawyers will probably try to sue me. So that's not great. But if you want to ease your conscience...take me out for a coffee?" Another wink, another squeeze around Eddie's heart.

Eddie fakes a deep sigh and takes Steve by the elbow. "I don't think a single coffee is going to get rid of all my guilt, but it's a start. Maybe a lunch tomorrow would help my healing process?"

Laughing, Steve nudges his side. "Anything for your peace of mind, Eddie."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie au #steddie #detective au #joyce byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

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jiminomenon · 13 days ago

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bratty beginnings

pairing: model! yu jimin x assistant! female reader

word count: 851 words

summary: in which, y/n moves to seoul with nothing but hope, only to face rejection after rejection. when she lands a job as the assistant to infamous model yu jimin, she quickly learns that dealing with jimin’s bratty attitude is harder than it seems. but when y/n unexpectedly fights back, everything changes—including jimin.

from my series: the devil wears prada

a/n: ya’ll please send ask/requests for this story, or even thoughts.

the train ride to seoul felt like a dream, the kind that y/n wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up from. the provincial district she had called home for years was now just a blur outside the window, replaced by the towering skyscrapers and neon lights of the city. y/n clutched her suitcase tightly, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. seoul was big, loud, and overwhelming, and y/n had no friends, no family, and no job waiting for her. just a dream and a whole lot of hope.

the first few days were a blur of job applications and rejections. y/n had applied everywhere—cafes, convenience stores, even a sketchy-looking karaoke bar—but no one wanted someone with no experience. the rejections piled up, and so did the doubt. maybe coming to seoul had been a mistake. maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.

but then, like a lifeline, she saw it: a job posting for an assistant position. no experience required. good pay. it sounded too good to be true, but y/n was desperate. she printed out her resume, put on her best outfit, and headed to the address listed.

the building was sleek and modern, all glass and steel, and the lobby was filled with people who looked like they belonged there. y/n, in her slightly wrinkled blouse and scuffed shoes, felt out of place. the receptionist gave her a once-over before directing her to the 15th floor. the elevator ride felt like an eternity, and y/n’s reflection in the mirrored walls looked as nervous as she felt.

when the doors slid open, chaos greeted her. people rushed back and forth, shouting orders, carrying racks of clothes, and balancing trays of coffee. in the center of it all stood yu jimin—karina. even in the midst of the madness, she was impossible to miss. tall, striking, with an aura that commanded attention. she was arguing with a stylist, her voice sharp and cutting.

“i said no pink! do you not understand basic instructions?”

the stylist stammered an apology, but jimin was already turning away, her eyes landing on y/n. she raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over y/n with a mix of curiosity and disdain.

“who are you?” she demanded, her tone making it clear she expected an immediate answer.

“i-i’m here for the assistant position,” y/n stammered, holding up her resume like a shield.

jimin plucked it from her hands, scanning it with a bored expression. “no experience. great. just what i need.” she sighed dramatically, tossing the resume onto a nearby table. “fine. you’re hired. don’t make me regret it.”

y/n blinked, stunned. “just like that?”

“just like that,” jimin said, already walking away. “you start now. keep up.”

the first few hours were a whirlwind. jimin was every bit as demanding and bratty as the rumors suggested, barking orders and criticizing everything y/n did.

“this coffee is too cold,” she snapped, shoving the cup back into y/n’s hands. “fix it.”

“why is this taking so long? are you incompetent?”

“do you even know how to do anything right?”

y/n’s patience was wearing thin. she had taken enough of jimin’s attitude, and something inside her snapped. when jimin threw another insult her way, y/n turned to her, her voice steady but firm.

“you know what? i’m not scared of you. i’ve had enough of your attitude. i get it, you’re a big shot model, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like garbage. i’m here to do a job, not be your punching bag. so either start treating me with some respect, or find someone else to boss around!”

the room fell silent. everyone stopped what they were doing, their eyes wide with shock. no one talked back to jimin. no one. the stylist who had been yelled at earlier looked like she was about to faint, and the photographer nervously adjusted his camera, as if preparing to capture the moment jimin exploded.

but jimin didn’t explode. instead, she stared at y/n for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, to everyone’s surprise, she chuckled. it was a low, amused sound, and it sent a shiver down y/n’s spine.

“well, well,” jimin said, a smirk playing on her lips. “looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all.” she stepped closer, her eyes locking with y/n’s. “fine. you’ve got the job. don’t make me regret it.”

and with that, she turned and walked away, leaving y/n and the rest of the room in stunned silence. the stylist let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and the photographer muttered something about needing a drink. y/n, meanwhile, stood there, her heart pounding, unsure whether she had just made the biggest mistake of her life or the best decision.

but as the days turned into weeks, y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found her place in seoul after all. and maybe, just maybe, jimin wasn’t as bad as everyone made her out to be.

#aespa karina #karina #karina x reader #yoo jimin #yu jimin #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #yoo jimin x reader #kpop x reader #kpop gg #kpop gg x reader #model! karina #bratty! karina

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shomixremix · 1 year ago

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HERDING THE CATTLE ♥︎

i saw something about this prompt on here like two years ago and it's been stuck in my head ever since ♡︎

tags: Arataki Itto, afab! reader, cow hybrid! reader, smut, fluff, marking, mating, rough sex, petnames, cowgirl, breeding, creampie

-> you are a small cow hybrid auctioned off to a slaughterhouse since you couldn't produce enough milk and were never calm. the arataki gang saved you, and your new master - the one and oni Arataki Itto - knows just how to keep you in check.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

"Ahh!! Itto! Itto-ooh! Mh! I-Itto!"

You whined as the Oni bounced you on his cock like you were weightless, watching in amusement as you cried in overstimulation. What was this, your ninth, tenth time cumming? You lost count. Itto never let you rest, not even for a second, bouncing you on his lap through every orgasm.

"Aww, you'r' so cute, love bug... Such a cute little cow, ain't ya'? Don't cry now, sweets, this is what ya' wanted, yeah? Only way I can tire you out, baby~"

Your master cooed, teasing you about being so restless. Oh, how you wished you could take everything back! No, you weren't bursting with energy like you said earlier, no, you couldn't go on forever - your legs were practically jelly at this point, your limp body completely at mercy to Itto.

He used you like a cocksleeve, dragged on his dick whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted - and you loved it. Life was good in the Arataki gang: you always had food, a place to sleep and protection provided to you, at all times. You also had a very tall, very strong and very handsome demon filling you up and breeding you almost daily, making sure your cushy womb was never empty.

The space where you connected was a mess. A glorious mess of both your and his juices seeping out of your hole, being fucked back in each time Itto would trust back. Just as every other day, your gummy walls pulsed around his length, making him shoot yet another load inside you.

"Fuck, baby... Makin' me lose my mind and shit..... So good.... Give me a little taste of that milk, will ya'?"

His large palms left your hips, greedily grabbing at the fat flesh of your boobs. As soon as he squeezed down just a tiny bit, a small stream of milk burst out, hitting Itto in the face. You were instantly mortified. Itto was your master, he saved you from certain death, and now you embarass him like this-

"I'm s-sorry Itto-! So sorry! Didn't mean to, I r-really didn't mean to!"

Instead of scolding you like you were sure any other owner would, the Oni burst out laughing. His laugh was like a roar, shaking his entire body - and with him, you as well.

"Hah, those jerks at the farm jus' didn't know how to milk ya', sweets, 'cause you look full of milk to me!"

It was true - even though you were sold to a slaughterhouse for failing to produce milk, you started leaking like crazy the moment Itto took you as his. That vet back at the farm you grow up on always said that you'd start producing milk if they paired you with a bull, and what better bull than a large, demon one?

Their loss, anyway. Now, all your milk belonged to Itto and his warm mouth, and not to some sketchy farmers who were only interested in selling it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his sharp fangs on your nips, greedily sucking at the flesh and gulping down the sweet drink. His dick twitched inside you as he continued feasting, your own arms tightening around his head to pull him closer.

The second he detached himself from your chest he thrust out harshly, in the process accidentally completely pushing you from his lap. Even though Itto was mighty and strong, he wasn't exactly the sharpest. There was a slight possibility that he was so occupied with whatever he was doing that he forgot you were on him.

You watched as he stood up, leaving you sitting on your knees on the ground. The Oni spit a bit of your milk on his palm, then using that same hand to roughly jerk his cock. It was more than obvious that milk was one of his kinks.

Oh, but why would he jerk off with milk as lube when you were right there...? On your knees, right next to him, ready and waiting and... Oh, Archons, were you not enough for him anymore..?

When Itto first saved you, the deal was that you'd stay in the Arataki gang until they found you a new home. However, Itto insisted they keep you, even proclaimed you as his own "pretty girl that no one can touch!" He kept you all to himself, fell asleep with you in his arms at night, brought you any awesome flowers he found, even took you on good, honest dates when he'd get a little Mora! He even acted on his demon urges and sunk his fangs into your neck, mating you!

But what if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a little, useless cow? What if that wasn't even enough for his sexual urges any more..?

"I-Itto..." You cry, big tears pooling up in the corners of even bigger eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

At the mention of his name the Oni turns to you, shocked to see you crying.

"Hey, hey, hey! Baby, what's wrong?!"

"Need you.... P-please..."

Not another word needed to be said. Itto immediately reacted, grabbing your soft, much smaller body and seating it once again on his lap, entering you in one swift trust until his tip was snuggly kissing your cervix.

"Shhh, sweets... Let your Oni take care of ya', hm? No need to cry! I thought you couldn't go on, love bug, that's why I stopped! But you really are a restless one, huh, calfie?"

You smiled warmely at the nickname as your head went fuzzy. You laid your pretty head on Arataki's chest - like always - and let him have complete control of how he fucks you.

Each one of his thrust was faster and more brutal than the last. Your pussy was already crying out, threatening to cum just from the first few thrusts. Itto noticed, pinching your puffy clit between his claws and rolling it around.

"OH, ITTO!" You scream in ecstasy, riding your high.

Your master wasn't going to be able to last much longer. With you bouncing on his cock the way you were and how your sweet little cunt was so tight that it was milking him dry, Itto lasted only a couple more thrusts.

"Hah... Haaah... Fuck, love bug... Really wanna milk me too, don't ya'? Ahh... Mmm.. Gonna breed you.. Hah... Gonna breed ya' so good, sweets.. You'll be all nice and full, and you'll get pregnant with my calfs, yeah? Put all that milk to good use, hm? Yeah, yeah!"

He started cumming as well, shooting rope after rope after rope of his sweet release inside you. You were filled to the rim, juices leaking out of your satisfied hole. Arataki didn't let any of it go to waste, his fingertips catching whatever's left and pushing it in.

As soon as you were filled, your hands reached for him, seeking comfort in his warm arms. Itto obliged instantly, carrying you like you were weightless, to the nearby camp they set up. Your master entered his tent, the biggest of the bunch, wrapping your body in a soft blanket and once again settling you in his arms.

"There ya' go, love bug. Comfy?" You nodded, which made Itto break out in a toothy grin. "Well, of course it is! The great numero uno Itto is at your service, baby, of course everything is awesome!"

You chuckled at the way he tooted his own horn, kissing his cheek and hiding your face in his large neck and shoulder.

"G'night, Itto.. Thank you..."

The Oni found your actions adorable, cooing at you: "Awww, sweets, no need to thank me! You know I always gocha. Thank you for being so good f' me, yeah? You're such a good, pretty little cow... I don't know how I got so lucky!"

He pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, caressing your legs with his large palm.

"G'night, baby.."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin itto #arataki itto #genshin arataki #itto smut #itto x reader #arataki itto smut #arataki itto fluff #itto fluff #smut #fluff #hybrid #hybrid reader

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mountaesan · 1 month ago

Text

a wild goose chase ; h. taesan

pairing. loser frat boy!taesan x fem!reader ( ft. frat brothers!sungho & leehan ) genre. slice of life , angst if you squint , strangers to lovers , university au synopsis. taesan isn't one to usually to go on a wild goose chase , but his world is turned upside down after one conversation with you word count. 3.8k warnings. alcohol consumption , taesan fumbles a baddie ( you ) , reader wears makeup in one scene , taesan is horrendously down bad playlist. her by block b , phone number by jinusean ( screamed when they collabed w jinusean . . . i lich rally grew up with this song so it was so surreal for me LMAO ) notes. this is the first and last time i will ever write solely in a member’s pov. i struggled way too much man

Since his first day of being a pledge, Taesan’s been in a strange limbo, teetering between a thin edge of savoring the pulse of life that could only exist in a too-crowded, too busy frat party, and loathing the sweaty chaos of beer-stained floors.

Today felt like the latter.

He bit back a curse when he felt the cold splatter of cheap beer spilling onto his shoes. Yup, definitely the latter.

The culprit, a half-drunk freshman he recognized as a pledge from another frat, mumbled a short apology before scampering off to the bar. Taesan ran an exhausted hand through his hair, contemplating once again, his choice to join a fraternity, and pushed through the crowd to the entrance of the frat house.

“Hey, Woonhak,” Taesan clapped a hand on the shoulder of his Little, a freshman with bright eyes and a cheery smile. “You’re off pledge duty. I got you.”

Woonhak glanced at the older brother with an excited glint in his eyes. “Really? Are you being serious?”

Taesan leaned against the doorframe, the cool night air brushing against his face as he took Woonhak’s place at the entrance. He had just enough view of the street to feel like he wasn’t entirely stuck in the chaos behind him. Taking the clipboard from Woonhak, he gave the younger boy a mock glare.

“Go, before I start assigning you something worse, like mop duty,” Taesan said with a smirk.

Woonhak saluted dramatically before disappearing into the house. Probably to find the rest of the pledges and bask in his temporary freedom.

Taesan sighed, flipping the clipboard to glance at the guest list for all of two seconds before setting it on a nearby ledge. Who cared if they were invited or not? As long as they weren’t carrying anything sketchy, it wasn’t his problem.

The first group approached, a trio of giggling girls holding red Solo cups. Taesan raised a skeptical brow, clearly noticing the alcohol already in hand, but he didn’t bother questioning where it came from.

“You’re good. Go on in,” he said, waving them through without hesitation.

They gave him a quick thanks and hurried inside, their laughter trailing behind them. Another group shuffled up next, this time a pair of guys who looked like they’d eat guys like Taesan for breakfast. One of them squinted at him, as if sizing him up.

“Do we need to, like, sign in or something?” the guy asked.

Taesan stared at him blankly. “Nope. Enjoy.”

And so it went. Taesan let a steady stream of people through, his “screening process” consisting mostly of quick glances and half-hearted waves. He let his mind wander, relishing the cool breeze and the occasional quiet moments when no one approached.

Half an hour passed. Maybe more. He wasn’t keeping track.

“You’re really just letting everyone in, huh?”

The voice startled Taesan out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw a familiar face–Sungho, a senior who lived for frat events but somehow managed to stay above the chaos. He stood with his arms crossed, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Taesan shrugged, his usual deadpan expression intact. “What do you want me to do? Start a full-body security pat down?”

Sungho laughed. “Nah, but you could at least pretend to care. Who knows, maybe someone will bring a llama into the house or something.”

“A llama would probably be the highlight of the night,” Taesan shot back.

Sungho rolled his eyes but stayed beside him, leaning against the frame. “You hate this, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching another group wander up the driveway. Sungho nudged him.

“Come on, at least ask if they’re on the list this time,” he teased.

Taesan groaned but picked up the clipboard. He glanced down at the list for show and when the group reached him, he asked, “Names?”

The group rattled off something incomprehensible over the thumping bass from inside. Taesan nodded as if he cared, waved them through, and dropped the clipboard again.

“Wow. Stellar effort,” Sungho deadpanned.

“Thanks. I try,” Taesan replied, monotone.

“Well, I’m going to bounce. Do your job properly, dude.” With a final pat on his shoulder, Sungho’s footsteps retreated as he disappeared back into the house.

The familiar weight of resignation settled over Taesan again as the door swung shut behind him. With a sigh, he slumped further into his position, resting his back against the doorframe as he half-heartedly pretended to check people off the list, all while counting down the minutes until he could leave.

He didn’t even look up when another group approached, letting them through with a lazy wave. He was honestly getting close to abandoning his post altogether. He’d never been assigned this duty in the first place, and he sure as hell didn’t care enough to do it right.

But then again, if he left, Woonhak would catch flak for it, and Taesan wasn’t about to make his Little’s life harder. Besides, he had no interest in receiving a demerit for a job that wasn’t even his in the first place. No way he’d risk that.

So, he stuck it out, like some reluctant sentinel standing at the gates of a frat party he hated.

One thing to clarify though, Taesan doesn’t hate his frat. He joined for a reason. Sure, it had taken some convincing from Leehan, but Taesan wanted to belong. He wanted to be part of something bigger. He enjoyed the parties, the camaraderie with his brothers, the sense of pride that came with being part of a long-standing tradition.

But on days like today, when the music felt too loud, the bodies too close, and the heat in the house too overwhelming, he didn’t exactly feel connected to it. Some days, it was just too much. But that didn’t mean he was going to bail entirely.

He was still there.

Taesan’s thoughts drifted again, only for a soft tap on his shoulder to yank him back into the present.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do those full-body pat downs since you want them so bad. Wanna be my first?” Taesan said without thinking, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned around, fully expecting Sungho to reprimand him for doing his job poorly again.

But when he turned, his words caught in his throat.

It wasn’t Sungho with his broad shoulders, ready to scold him. It was a girl.

A pretty one, at that.

You were stunning, with sparkling eye makeup that caught the light like stars and a half-empty Solo cup clutched in your hand. Your smile was teasing, but there was something about your energy that made Taesan forget how to breathe for a second.

Your wide eyes met his, and his heart did something weird. A small, unfamiliar skip. He cleared his throat, trying to shake the feeling, but it didn’t go away. You were too pretty. Too close. And for some reason, everything about you made the party fade away, even the thumping bass of the music and the chaos inside the house.

He immediately regretted his sarcastic quip.

You blinked once. Twice. Then, with an easy smile, said, “So, you’re really going to give me a full-body pat down?”

Taesan swallowed hard, cursing inwardly at his own awkwardness. He’d never been good at talking to pretty girls, and you, with your sharp eyes and mischievous grin, were making him feel like a fool.

“Uh, no,” he replied quickly, his voice awkward. “I was just, uh, joking.”

You raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Oh? Too bad. I could’ve used a full-body check,” you teased lightly, glancing down at his clipboard. “But seriously, I’m looking for someone. Have they come in yet?”

Taesan blinked, completely thrown off his game. “Who?”

“Her name’s Ji-an. She’s—”

Taesan felt a sharp pang of guilt when he realized that he had no idea who had come in, much less if someone named Ji-an had arrived. He cursed himself internally. Turns out his half-assed guest checking routine wasn’t exactly working in his favor. Maybe he should’ve listened to Sungho.

“I—uh—yeah, sorry. I have no idea,” Taesan stammered, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you didn’t seem upset. Instead, you shrugged. “It’s fine. I figured I’d ask anyway. I’ll just look inside.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t any help. I didn’t really—uh—” he trailed off, feeling even more awkward.

But you didn’t seem to mind. You tilted your head slightly, your smile returning. “You know, I have to say, the ‘full-body-pat-down’ idea has some potential. Maybe you should do that for everyone. Could be your new thing.”

Taesan blinked. “My new thing? As in, like, a career move?”

You laughed, and Taesan found himself smiling despite himself. “Sure, why not?”

The two of you bantered for a few more minutes and the tension in Taesan’s chest loosened with each passing second. He wasn’t the smoothest guy, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like he was completely messing up with you.

After a while, you gave him a friendly wave with a warm smile. “Well, thanks for the pat-down offer,” you said. “I have to go find my friend now.”

Taesan opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn’t find the words. He should’ve offered to help, or at least asked for your name so he could tell you if he saw Ji-an. But he didn’t.

After you disappeared into the house, Taesan cursed himself, kicking the ground in frustration. “Idiot,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Quickly racking his brain for any ideas, he spotted a nearby pledge as his eyes darted around in a frantic attempt to regain some sense of control over the situation. He grabbed the pledge by the shoulder, his voice sharp.

“Hey, find Woonhak,” Taesan instructed quickly. “Tell him to come back to the door so I can go inside. I gotta—uh, I gotta take care of something.”

Before the pledge could respond, Taesan was already darting into the house. He couldn’t waste another second. He had no idea where you had gone, but he couldn’t just let you slip away without at least trying. He pushed through the partygoers, the bass of the music vibrating in his chest as he made his way deeper into the house, hoping to spot you again.

But no matter how many people he bumped into, no matter how many faces he searched, you were nowhere to be seen. The house was a blur of bodies, the dance floor packed, conversations overlapping with laughter and the clink of bottles.

“Where the hell did she go?” Taesan muttered under his breath, frustration beginning to boil in his chest. He stood still for a moment, trying to focus, to catch his breath, but it didn’t help. You had disappeared into the crowd.

By the time he reached the bar area, Taesan’s determination had wavered, and he felt more ridiculous than ever. The bartender, someone he recognized from his BIO 265, gave him a nod as he slid onto a barstool. He needed something to take the edge off.

“Three shots of tequila,” Taesan said with a tired smile.

The bartender raised a brow but didn’t ask any questions. A few moments later, three glasses were set in front of him. Taesan didn’t hesitate. One after the other, he threw them back, the warmth and burn of the alcohol cutting through the mess of thoughts clouding his mind.

The shots hit him fast, the tipsy feeling spreading through his chest and head. The nervous energy he had been carrying around since the moment you walked up to him seemed to dissipate. He felt lighter, like the heavy weight of self-doubt was slowly lifting.

“Alright, alright, now we’re talking,” Leehan said as he slid into the empty spot next to him, a grin spreading across his face. “What’s going on, dude? You look like someone punched you in the gut for the past hour.”

Taesan slouched against the bar, his fingers tapping in time with the music. A small smile formed on his face despite himself.

“I… I messed up, dude,” Taesan started, his words slightly slurring, but not enough to lose coherence. “I talked to this girl, but I—ugh, I don’t even know why I said the stuff I did. I don’t know what came over me. She was cute, man. Like, really cute.”

“Alright, spill,” Leehan said, nudging him. “Give me all the deets. Maybe I can find this chick for you.”

Taesan huffed, running a hand through his hair. “She came up to me while I was covering my Little for door duty. She asked if someone was here, but because I’m so amazing and perfect at my job, I had no clue. We talked a little and then she… walked off.”

Leehan grinned, his curiosity piqued. “What’d she look like?”

“She was… pretty,” Taesan said, gesturing vaguely. “Like, really pretty. Sparkly eyes, Solo cup, electrifying smile. She was—ugh, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Leehan’s grin widened as he leaned back against the bar. “Sparkly eyes and an electrifying smile? What are you, a poet? Goddamn, someone’s got it bad. Did you at least get her name?”

Taesan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No. She was looking for her friend, Ji-an. That’s all I know.”

Leehan let out a low whistle. “Man, you really blew it. But hey, this is a party. If she’s still here, we can find her.”

Taesan lifted his head, shooting his friend a skeptical look. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.” Leehan clapped him on the shoulder, the force almost making Taesan lose his balance on the barstool. “You’ve been moping since you got here. Might as well do something about it. Come on, dude, let’s go.”

Taesan hesitated, the tequila in his system making his thoughts fuzzy. He wanted to protest, but deep down, he didn’t want to sit there all night replaying the interaction in his head. If there was even the slightest chance of finding you again, he couldn’t let it slip away.

“Fine,” he muttered, sliding off the stool. “But if this turns into some wild goose chase, it’s all your fault.”

Leehan laughed, already scanning the room like a man on a mission. “Relax, dude. I’ve got a good feeling about this. Let’s start with the dance floor. That’s where all the magic usually happens.”

The two of them weaved through the crowd, Taesan’s eyes darting from face to face in search of you. The party was in full swing with the music loud and the air thick with energy. People were dancing, laughing, and shouting over the loud bass, but Taesan couldn’t focus on any of it. His mind was consumed by the image of your teasing smile and the way your eyes had sparkled under the dim lights.

Ten minutes quickly turned into half an hour, and Taesan glanced over at Leehan dejectedly, who responded with a shake of his head from the other end of the room. They made their way to the center of the dance floor, meeting halfway with matching downcast looks.

“Sorry, dude. Riwoo said he saw some girl dragging a drunk Ji-an out not too long ago. That might’ve been your girl.” Leehan clasped his hand on Taesan’s shoulder. “Forget about her, man. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Taesan shook his head. “You don’t get it. She’s not someone you could easily forget about overnight.”

“You’ll be saying otherwise when you’re shitfaced by the end of the night. C’mon.”

Taesan did not say otherwise at the end of the night, but he did have something else to say to Leehan when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a hangover bad enough to curdle milk.

He groaned when his alarm blared loudly, shrill beeps drilling into his skull like a jackhammer. His hand shot out from beneath the blanket, swiping at the nightstand in a desperate attempt to silence it. On the fourth swing, his fingers finally managed to find the snooze button, and for a moment, blissful silence returned.

But Taesan’s head continued to throb, each pulse serving as a cruel reminder of the series of events last night following his encounter with you.

“Leehan…” Taesan croaked, his voice rough and crackly. He barely managed to crack one eye open, but immediately shut it again when the daylight spilling through the blinds felt like knives stabbing into his brain. He groaned louder. “Leehan… you shit.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m off best friend duty,” came a muffled response from across the room. Leehan’s voice wasn’t any better than Taesans. “I don’t know a Leehan.”

Taesan tried to sit up—key word: tried. The room spun violently, and he immediately slumped back down as he clutched his temples. “Oh my God… I’m never letting you bartend ever again.”

Leehan gave no response, and Taesan became awfully suspicious that his best friend had fallen back asleep, at the luxury of no morning classes terrorizing his schedule. Lucky bastard.

Panic prickled at the edges of Taesan’s foggy brain. Morning class. He had morning class. And it was one of those unforgiving ones where attendance counted for more than 50% of his grade. Shit. He rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a graceless thud. The impact sent another wave of nausea crashing over him, and he mumbled out another frenzy of colorful, obscene words.

Taesan crawled to his feet, using the edge of his rickety, old dorm bed for support. He staggered to the closet, pulling out the first clean shirt he could find. It was inside out. He didn’t care. Pants? Found them on the floor. Socks? Mismatched, but at least they were clean (he checked).

He stumbled into the bathroom, squinting at his reflection. His hair was a bird’s nest, and his face looked like it had been dragged through a gravel pit. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would shock some life back into him. It didn’t.

“You look like you were visited by the grim reaper himself,” Leehan called from the warmth and safety of his bed. Taesan was brimming with jealousy.

“Feel so much worse,” he muttered, gripping the sink to steady himself. He grabbed his toothbrush. The minty toothpaste felt like ice against his teeth, and for a second, he thought he might actually cry. By some miracle, Taesan made it back to his room, tugging on the first sweater he could find, followed by his bag slinging over one shoulder.

“If I die in class, tell my parents it’s all your fault,” he said, glaring weakly at Leehan.

Leehan saluted lazily from his bed. “Have fun, champ.”

Taesan didn’t dignify that with a response. He sprinted out the door, pushing down the urge to regurgitate everything he’s had to eat in the past 24 hours, and prayed to every deity he could think of that he’d make it to class in one piece.

Somehow, he did.

Taesan stumbled into the lecture hall with barely a minute to spare. His hoodie was pulled so far over his head, it nearly covered his eyes. He slid into a seat at the very back, slouching low to make it himself as inconspicuous as possible. The professor’s voice droned on at the front of the room, but Taesan wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. His mind was elsewhere, rewinding to last night. To you.

He could still picture your bright smile, teasing and playful. The way your eyes sparkled under the dim lights, like they held secrets he’d spend a lifetime trying to uncover. You had been so easy to talk to, like you’d known each other for years instead of minutes. He replayed the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, the warmth of your hand brushing against his, the way his heart had skipped a beat when you looked at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

The short, five minute memory served as a lifeline, pulling him through the fog of his hangover. He barely noticed the minutes ticking by, and before he knew it, the lecture was over. Students began filing out as the sound of their chatter filled the air, but Taesan stayed seated for a beat longer. He was reluctant to leave the sanctuary of his thoughts. Of you.

Finally, he heaved himself to his feet and trudged out of the lecture hall, his body heavy with exhaustion. Coffee. He needed coffee—something hot and strong to chase away the remnants of his misery.

But then he saw you.

You were across the quad, walking with your bag slung casually over one shoulder. The sunlight hit you just right, catching in your hair and illuminating your face. Your presence cut through the haze in Taesan’s mind like a beacon, and he froze, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. For a moment, he forgot all about his headache, his nausea, the dryness in his throat, even the fact that he could barely stand upright.

All he could see was you.

And you were walking away, towards the main building.

It was like the universe had thrown Taesan a lifeline. He bolted down four flights of stairs, his bag bouncing against his back as he burst out of the building. He sprinted across the quad, ignoring the confused stares of his classmates.

Taesan’s lungs burned, and his legs felt like jelly, but he pushed forward, desperate to catch up to you before you disappeared again.

“Wait!” he called, his voice cracking slightly.

You turned, eyebrows raised in surprise. He skidded to a stop in front you, panting heavily both from the exertion and the sheer adrenaline of seeing you up close again. For a second, he couldn’t find the words. His mind had turned blank, except for the thought that you were prettier than he remembered.

“Door guy?”

“That full body security pat down is still on the table, if you want.”

Taesan’s words hung in the air, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d just said. He had blurt out whatever words first came to mind, not realizing that he sounded like a complete weirdo in front of you. His face turned bright red, and he opened his mouth to backtrack, but then you laughed—a warm, genuine laugh that sent his heart into overdrive.

“Smooth,” you said, still smiling. “Real smooth, door guy.”

Taesan rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “The name’s Taesan. I… I meant to say hi. But, uh, hi.”

“Hi, Taesan,” you replied, your smile softening. “I’m [Name].”

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chosolar · 5 days ago

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ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ what about us?

choso x fem!reader

situationship!choso first met you through yuji. you were yuji's partner for a project he had in college, so you were often at their place to work on it. choso, like the gentleman he is, often gave you rides back to your dorm.

situationship!choso spent one night with you and he couldn't get you out of his mind afterwards. even if you both did agree that it was just a one night stand, just a way of releasing stress that's been building up, but choso didn't want to be just a one time thing.

situationship!choso finally got the chance to talk to you one night when he found you outside the club he used to frequent. he gave you his jacket and gave you a ride home since he knows how sketchy people get. he only meant to check up on you the morning after but something inside him told him to continue the convo.

situationship!choso takes you out after you're done your classes. sometimes choso works mornings and sometimes evenings so whenever you two have free time together, he always takes advantage of it.

situationship!choso wants to always fall asleep on the phone with you. because technically he's not your boyfriend, he feels bad sleeping over so instead he settles on falling asleep when you're on a call.

situationship!choso has a hard time saying I love you. he's proven it with his actions and loyalty, but saying those 3 words is just something he holds back on.

situationship!choso overhears you defending him when you're on the phone with your friends. it's been a year since your relationship started with him and he had still yet to ask you out officially. your friends are annoyed with him and he deserves the heat, but he can't help but feel sorry for you who's defending him wholeheartedly.

situationship!choso can't commit. he doesn't know if it started because of his parents' tumultuous relationship or if it was his ex who fucked him over during their 3 year relationship, but he just can't seem to commit himself to anyone. he hates it. you deserve so much better than him.

situationship!choso loves you so much but he just can't bring himself to be in another relationship. he's not emotionally available enough to be able to communicate with you properly.

situationship!choso keeps delaying on breaking it with you but he can't. he doesn't know how to bring it up and he can't imagine how much he'd have fucked you over if he does break it off. he'll be basically just like his ex who wasted his time.

situationship!choso finally finds the courage to talk to you about how he's feeling. he was planning on doing it through text but that would've been disrespectful to you so he asked if you could come over to his place. he struggles at first to put forward the things he wanted to say, and with his mind all over the place, he just ends up blurting out that he wants to stop seeing you.

with the look you're giving him after he speaks, choso thinks it would've hurt a lot less if you stabbed him in the chest. he waits for an answer for you, he expects for you to get angry and yell at him or to just slap him in the face. you don't do anything though. you're still and silent, and that's what worries choso the most.

"listen it's-" choso starts to explain but you cut him off.

"was it something I did?"

"no of course not. you're perfect baby," choso sighs and pauses before he continues his train of though. "I'm not a good partner. I will be the shittiest boyfriend you'll ever have if we continue and you deserve someone so much better than me."

"then why can't we be together? why can't you be better for me?" you ask him and choso doesn't know how to answer. what's he supposed to say? regardless of his reply, you're going to wonder if you're enough.

"I don't know, I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you." he whispers. as much as he loves you, he wishes he didn't start anything with you because he didn't expect to fall in love so hard. choso didn't think breaking this off would be so difficult for him.

you're quiet again and choso hates the silence because he can't tell what you're thinking. a few minutes pass until he looks at you when you speak up.

"well can't we just try?"

choso's speechless. he just can't wrap his head around the fact that you want to stay with him so badly that you'd willingly hurt yourself for him.

"I can't promise you that I'll be good." choso starts off, "I'm not the best at communicating and I have jealousy issues."

he looks at you before he continues.

"my family is dysfunctional and I don't go out often so you're probably the only person I'll hang out with."

"that's fine," you go to him and embrace him as he reciprocates the hug, happy to be around his arms again. "I'll be here for you."

situationship!choso spends weeks courting you. he's always waking excuses to see you, whether that's picking and dropping you off when you have classes, or he just so happens to be at your work while you're on your break.

situationship!choso is not afraid of showing affection for you when you're in public. he started greeting your friends whenever he saw them and slowly, their opinions of him started changing. it's not like they instantly think that he's the best man for you now, but they're glad that he's bettering himself for you.

situationship!choso introduces you to his family. he contemplated on doing so but even if he's not on the best terms with his parents, he wanted them to know that he's serious about you.

situationship!choso plans the cutest, most sweetest date to ask you out. he knows you deserve the best and that goes for making it official with you.

boyfriend!choso loves you to death. after only having the most exhausting and toxic relationships, being with you is a breath of fresh air for him. he wakes up and goes to sleep with you in mind. he works hard so that you can have a better future with him where you don't have to lift a finger.

boyfriend!choso is so clingy! you didn't expect it because of how awkward he was at first with him but as soon as he felt comfortable, he would be right by your side wherever you go. even if it's just to go to the kitchen or the washroom, you can bet he's right behind you.

boyfriend!choso still has some issues that he's working on. sometimes when you have a big fight, you have to beg him to ask what he's feeling because he's spent so many years holding it in that it's hard for him to vocalize. even if it does get frustrating sometimes, you don't hold it against him since you know how bad it used to be (baby steps!)

boyfriend!choso is the true definition of being a secret freak. everywhere, anytime, whatever position, as long as it's with you, choso is down.

boyfriend!choso sometimes stays awake after you pass out to take time to appreciate you. he's never felt a softer love than when he's with you, and he can't believe a person so patient and loving wanted to stay with him.

boyfriend!choso loves supporting you on any hobbies you have. whether it's gaming or something like crocheting, choso will ask you questions to try and connect with you through what you love.

boyfriend!choso is elated that he can sleep over anytime now. he's basically moved in with you and he's so glad that he doesn't have to sleep on the phone with you to feel like you're right beside him at night.

boyfriend!choso has gotten over his fear of saying I love you. it took him some time to say it back to you but you never rushed him, it was obvious that he loves you too. he just looks at your gentle smile and sighs that he couldn't say it. but on a random night, he drank a little too much and as you were taking care of him, "I love you" was all that he said. ever since then, choso has never had a problem telling you the 3 words you've been wanting to hear.

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

wanted to flesh out the situationship but I've never been in one so I didn't know how to lmaooooo

not proofread ofc

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mrsjellymunson · 8 months ago

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Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

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