#; also don't mind me using that icon of him eating I WAS DREAMING ABOUT IT

[thepinkpanther83]

And They Were Roommates (Pt.15)

Chapter Fifteen: “Costumes and Catastrophes”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

Previous Chapter: Chapter Fourteen: “All Tangled Up” Next Chapter: Chapter Sixteen: “Sanctuary in the Storm”

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter Fifteen: "Costumes and Catastrophes" The Halloween store was chaos.

Plastic masks, fake cobwebs, cheap polyester costumes jammed onto metal racks- it smelled like rubber, desperation, and pre-teen body spray. Eddie loved it. Naturally.

You, however, were starting to second-guess agreeing to let him pick your costumes.

Eddie bounded down the cluttered aisle, arms full of absolute nonsense. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Babe. Babe. Look. We could be Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein- you know, all tall and freaky… oh, or Dracula and his sexy victim-" he wiggled his eyebrows- "or- OR- hear me out… zombie rock stars."

He was vibrating with excitement.

You crossed your arms, trying not to laugh. "You’re just picking anything that lets you wear eyeliner in public without judgment."

He gasped. "That is slanderous, and also correct."

You laughed, "Alright, Munson. What else did you have in mind for our costumes?"

He grinned, clearly having pondered this a lot. "Well, we could go as Maverick and Charlie from 'Top Gun'. Or maybe channel our inner rock gods- think KISS and Madonna."

You playfully swatted his chest. "As long as I don't have to wear a cone bra."

He feigned offense. "But it's iconic!"

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "Let's keep brainstorming. Maybe something a bit more us."

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Whatever we choose, it'll be perfect. Just like you."

He wandered off, and you smiled, continuing to riffle through a rack of crinkly plastic bags, pretending to consider a "sexy nurse" outfit, just to watch Eddie's eyes bug out.

He immediately reappeared at your side like a demon summoned by thirst alone.

"Wear that. Wear only that. Wear nothing under that."

You rolled your eyes, tossing it at him. "Dream on, Munson."

He grinned, completely unfazed.

Then- because it was Eddie -he ducked behind a rack of costumes, popped back out with something clutched behind his back, and waggled his eyebrows dramatically.

"Okay. Okay. I got it. I got the winner. Don’t get mad, 'kay?"

You gave him the flattest look you could muster. "That’s a terrible way to start a sentence."

He revealed it with a flourish.

A Han Solo costume... and next to it, in another bag, a glint of gold: a Slave Leia costume.

You gawked.

He beamed. "I mean, come on, sweetheart. It’s perfect. I’m Han- you’re Leia… think about it- forbidden love, intergalactic tension… hot people doing hot things- it’s basically already us."

You opened your mouth. Closed it again.

"You’re serious," you deadpanned.

"Deadly."

His grin was the most shit-eating thing you’d ever seen in your life.

"I mean, think about it. The sheer nerd clout I'd earn walking into Harrington’s party with you on my arm dressed like this? The way Steve's dumbass head would explode? Babe. Babe. Please."

You swore he actually batted his lashes at you.

It was disgustingly effective.

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. "You're the worst."

"I'm the best," he corrected smugly, plucking the costume back from your limp hands and marching toward the dressing rooms.

"C'mon, Princess," he called over his shoulder. "Let’s see how good you look in chains."

You flipped him off. He blew you a kiss.

Twenty minutes later, you emerged from the dressing room in a cloud of cheap metallic fabric and existential regret.

The Slave Leia costume was... well.

It was something.

The gold bikini top barely contained you, the slave collar chain around your neck was already digging into your collarbone, and the skirt was so revealing you were pretty sure a stiff breeze would send you straight to indecent exposure charges.

You tugged at it, scowling.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered.

Eddie, meanwhile, had already changed into his Han Solo getup- blue pants, thigh holster, boots, vest that somehow made his shoulders look even broader- and was leaning against the mirror with his arms crossed, chewing on his bottom lip like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Or drool.

Or both.

"Oh my god," he breathed, eyes raking over you like he was committing every inch to memory.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Don't."

Eddie held up his hands in surrender, but his grin was pure sin. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"Sweetheart, I'm thinking so many things right now."

You huffed, turning back to the mirror to adjust the stupid chain again.

Eddie stepped up behind you, hands hovering just above your waist like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch you yet.

"You look..." His voice dropped, rough and reverent. "Fuck."

You met his gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie swallowed hard.

"Like I’m gonna have to fight every guy at that party just to keep you in my line of sight," he admitted, voice thick.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned.

"Dramatic."

Eddie leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"You love it."

You shivered.

He smirked, stepping back and adjusting his holster with a cocky swagger.

"Alright, Princess," he said, nodding toward the register. "Let’s go make Harrington regret inviting us."

You groaned, but followed him anyway.

Because, yeah.

You did love it.

And Eddie knew it.

They changed back to their street clothes and made their way to the cash register. The cashier- a bored-looking teenager with blue hair and a nose ring, barely glanced up as Eddie slammed the costumes onto the counter with all the gravitas of a man purchasing the Holy Grail.

"We'll take these," he announced, like he was declaring war.

The kid blinked at him, unimpressed, and slowly dragged the barcode scanner over the plastic packaging.

Eddie leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Listen, man. You got any of those little gold arm cuffs? Y'know, to complete the look?"

The cashier stared at him. "Over there." He pointed at a messy display nearby.

Eddie lit up like a Christmas tree. "Amazing!"

You buried your face in your hands.

Five minutes later, Eddie was practically skipping out of the store, plastic bags swinging from his fingers, grin brighter than the fluorescent lights inside.

"This is gonna be legendary," he declared, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Harrington’s gonna lose his goddamn mind."

You groaned. "I regret everything."

Eddie kissed your temple. "No you don’t."

You didn’t. Not really, not when it made him so happy.

Halloween Night

Steve Harrington’s house was packed.

Music thumped through the walls, bodies pressed together in the dim glow of orange string lights, and the air smelled like smoke, cheap beer and pumpkin spice.

Eddie had insisted on making an entrance.

Which is how you found yourself standing on Steve’s porch, shivering in the cool October air, while Eddie adjusted the chain around your neck for the twelfth time.

"Perfect," he murmured, fingers lingering just a second too long on your collarbone.

You elbowed him. "Stop stalling."

Eddie grinned, wild and wicked, before throwing the door open with a flourish.

The second you both stepped inside, the party stopped.

Or at least, that’s how it felt.

Heads turned. Conversations stuttered. Someone dropped a plastic cup.

Eddie beamed.

Steve Harrington, standing near the punch bowl in a half-assed Indiana Jones costume, froze mid-sip, eyes widening as they landed on you.

Then on Eddie.

Then back on you.

His mouth fell open.

"Oh my god," Robin Buckley, standing next to Steve in a cobbled-together Marion Ravenwood outfit from Raiders of The Lost Ark, let out a piercing wolf-whistle that cut through the music.

"HOLY SHIT," she yelled, slamming her cup down on the table hard enough to slosh punch everywhere.

Steve choked on his drink.

Eddie threw his head back and laughed, loud and unashamed, before slinging an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his side.

"Told you," he whispered in your ear, voice smug as hell.

You were mortified.

And also- stupidly -kinda turned on and giddy.

Because Eddie was radiant like this- all confidence and chaos, basking in the attention, in the way every eye in the room was locked on the two of you.

And yeah, okay, maybe the way his fingers were digging possessively into your hip wasn’t entirely for show.

The air felt thick, every nerve ending buzzing under the weight of a hundred staring eyes. You clung to Eddie’s side like a lifeline, heart hammering, cheeks burning- but when you glanced up at him again, radiant and proud, you found yourself smiling too.

Steve finally recovered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Munson," he said, voice strangled. "What the hell."

Eddie grinned. "Happy Halloween, Harrington."

Robin grabbed Steve’s arm, shaking him violently. "STEVE. LOOK AT THEM. THEY’RE ALL MATCHY."

Steve looked.

Then immediately looked away, face red.

"Jesus Christ."

Eddie’s smirk could’ve powered a small country.

The party slowly roared back to life around you- laughter, whispers, someone in the back yelling "HELL YEAH, STAR WARS!" -but Eddie didn’t leave your side.

He just leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Still regret it?"

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze.

His eyes were dark.

"Not even a little," you admitted.

Eddie’s grin turned feral.

"Good."

Then he grabbed your hand and dragged you into the crowd, toward the music, toward the chaos, toward the rest of the night-

-and you followed, laughing, because of course you did.

Because he was Eddie.

And you were his.

And that was everything.

The party swallowed you both whole.

Eddie, predictably, was a menace.

He dragged you into the swirling mass of bodies, laughing, spinning you like a princess at a deranged royal ball. His hands were everywhere- your waist, your back, that cursed slave collar chain at your throat that he kept tugging just enough to make your knees wobble.

You tried to glare at him. It was completely ineffective.

"You’re drunk on attention," you accused, trying not to trip over someone’s discarded pirate hat.

Eddie grinned, unapologetic. "I’m drunk on you, sweetheart."

Before you could sass him back, a loud bang echoed from somewhere in the backyard, followed by a chorus of ohhhh shit! and the unmistakable smell of smoke.

Eddie lit up. "Chaos!"

You groaned, letting him drag you out back toward the ruckus.

Turns out, someone- probably Tommy Hagan, if you had to guess, had tried to deep-fry mozzarella sticks in a cheap Halloween cauldron. It had ended exactly the way you’d expect- with Steve flapping a dish towel at the outdoor smoke alarm and Robin laughing so hard she collapsed against a table.

In the middle of the smoky mess, a voice shouted:

"HEY, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED OUT HERE?!"

You turned-

Dustin Henderson.

Back from whatever fancy-pants science camp he’d been at all summer, taller, a little broader, still somehow radiating pure goblin energy. His hair was tucked under a ridiculous cowboy hat, and he had a plastic lightsaber dangling from his belt like a six-shooter.

The second he spotted you and Eddie, his face lit up.

"DUDE!" Dustin bellowed, barreling through the crowd. "YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!"

Eddie spread his arms, smirking. "Told you, Henderson. We’d be Legendary."

Dustin came skidding to a stop in front of you, panting, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You-" he pointed at Eddie, "are insane. And you-" he pointed at you, eyes wide with awe, "are a goddess. Holy shit."

You laughed, heat flooding your cheeks. "Thanks, Dusty."

He recovered fast, though, because he immediately turned on Eddie with a cackle.

"And you’re dead, by the way. You realize that, right?"

Eddie blinked. "What?"

Dustin jabbed a thumb toward the back door. "Half the dudes in there are plotting your murder."

Eddie puffed up like an indignant cat. "Let 'em try. I'll fight 'em all. I'll fight 'em right now."

You rolled your eyes and shoved him toward a bench and table. "You’ll avoid causing a scene before Steve throws us out on our asses."

Eddie whined, but obeyed, grumbling dramatically.

Dustin sidled closer, elbowing you conspiratorially. "You look really happy," he said, voice softer.

You blinked, caught off guard.

"I am," you admitted.

Dustin grinned, wide and genuine. "Good. You deserve it. Both of you."

You were about to thank him- maybe even hug him- when the floor suddenly shook.

Like, actual structural movement.

Everyone froze.

A moment of silence.

Then-

CRASH.

The back porch lights exploded in a violent shower of sparks, raining tiny flames down onto the grass below.

People screamed. Steve cursed. Robin yelled something about electrical fires.

And through the smoke and flickering lights, you caught sight of the real culprits:

A trio of meatheads from Hawkins High- Jake, Ricky, and that moron Brian, standing at the far end of the backyard, frozen like guilty raccoons caught in the garbage. Behind them, the heavy steel keg someone had clearly been trying to hook up to an old, half-rotted generator was now rolling drunkenly across the lawn, trailing a thick black power cord like a wounded snake.

"Oh my god," you gasped, horrified. "They tried to power the keg."

Dustin’s jaw dropped. "That’s... actually kinda genius."

Eddie grabbed your hand immediately, instinctively, protectively. His palm was hot against yours, his voice low and firm.

"Stay with me, Princess."

You tightened your grip on his fingers.

"Were they going to-?" Dustin started to ask-

-and then, from the busted-open back door, another voice rang out:

"What the hell is going on out here?!"

You whipped around-

-and there stood Chief Jim Hopper.

Somehow more intimidating than a goddamn dragon.

Hat shoved low, boots planted wide, badge flashing in the flickering party lights.

He looked pissed.

Eddie gulped nervously.

You could feel the tremor in his fingers still tangled with yours.

Dustin, to his credit, tried to smooth things over. "Uh, Chief Hopper! Hey, good to see you! We were just-"

"-electrocuting yourselves?" Hopper barked, stepping further onto the back porch, boots thunking heavily against the warped floorboards.

His gaze swept over the wreckage- shattered bulbs, overturned beer cups, the smoldering extension cord, and landed squarely on Eddie.

Eddie straightened like a man about to face a firing squad.

"You know, technically, this isn’t my house," he said weakly. "So, uh, property damage? Not really my jurisdiction."

You had to bite your lip to hide a laugh.

Dustin gave him a look that screamed, Dude, shut up.

Hopper exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of his nose, like he was doing math in his head to avoid throttling everyone.

"You," he jabbed a finger at the three keg-saboteurs, who flinched. "Over there. Now. You’re cleaning that mess before anyone leaves."

He turned back to the rest of the party, voice booming:

"And if one more goddamn thing blows up tonight, I’m hauling every single one of you down to the station. That clear? There’s been noise complaints!"

A chorus of "Yes, sir," "Sorry, sir," and a few mock terrified squeaks rippled through the crowd.

Hopper adjusted his hat, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Buncha goddamn idiots," under his breath, and with a last sharp glare at Eddie, stomped away.

The second the door slammed shut, Eddie sagged like a puppet with cut strings.

"Well," he croaked, "that was horrifying."

Dustin clapped him on the shoulder. "Dude, you looked like you were gonna puke."

"I was gonna puke," Eddie muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face.

Then he grinned at you sideways, all mischief sparking back to life.

"But... Hopper didn't actually shut us down. Which means-"

Robin popped her head around the corner, raising a fresh bottle of rum like a trophy.

"Party’s back on, bitches!"

The crowd roared. Music cranked back up. Someone dragged the surviving coolers closer to the fire pit. A little battered, a little scorched- but very much alive, the Harrington house party roared back to life.

And Eddie, hand still clasping yours, leaned close to murmur against your ear, voice low and wicked: "Now where were we, Princess?"

"Why were you so nervous? You looked about ready to shit yourself," you teased, biting your lip to keep from laughing outright.

Eddie groaned, tipping his head back dramatically like the sky was personally attacking him.

"Because," he hissed under his breath, "I have a history with Hopper, okay?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "History?"

He dropped his voice lower, glancing around to make sure none of the nosy partygoers were eavesdropping.

"Let's just say… there may have been a few occasions in my youth where certain herbal substances were exchanged for certain totally reasonable amounts of cash, and Hopper may or may not have caught me red-handed. Once. Or, y'know. Three times."

You snorted. "You dealt weed to an undercover cop?"

"Technically," Eddie said, holding up a finger, "I dealt weed near an undercover cop who just happened to be Hopper's cousin visiting from outta town. Minor technicality."

You couldn’t help it- you burst out laughing.

Eddie looked equal parts embarrassed and pleased with himself, shoving his free hand into his pocket and scuffing his boot on the floor like a guilty kid.

"And then Hopper caught me trying to run, then he caught me hiding in the elementary school playground tunnel, then he caught me trying to bribe him with my Iron Maiden cassette."

You wheezed. "Your Iron Maiden cassette?"

"It was a limited edition!" Eddie cried, affronted.

"Anyway," he grumbled, squeezing your hand a little tighter, "we’ve had a mutual understanding ever since. I don’t screw up too badly in public, and he doesn’t throw my ass back in jail. Most days."

You leaned against him, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

"So basically," you said, "you’re one more power outage away from being back in cuffs?"

Eddie grinned down at you, wicked and warm and absolutely unrepentant. "Baby," he murmured, "if you want me in cuffs, all you have to do is ask."

The moment the words left his mouth, your face burned so hot you were pretty sure you could fry an egg on your cheeks. Eddie’s grin widened, sharp and victorious, like he’d just won some unseen battle.

"Oh-ho-ho," he purred, leaning in so close his breath ghosted over your ear. "Now that’s a reaction I’m gonna remember."

You shoved him, but he barely budged, just laughed- loud and unashamed, before catching your wrist and pulling you flush against him.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, lips brushing your temple. "I’m just messing with you."

A pause.

"Unless?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest to hide the way your entire body was reacting to him. "You’re the worst."

Eddie chuckled, low and pleased, fingers tracing idle patterns against your back. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

You didn’t deny it.

Couldn’t.

Because it was true.

The party raged on around you, but Eddie didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

Not when Steve finally cornered him by the snack table to grumble about "ruining his party with your weird-ass nerd costumes."

Not when Robin drunkenly tried to teach Dustin how to salsa dance- it went horribly.

Eddie just smirked, tugged you closer, and whispered, "See? We survived."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

Because yeah, you had, and you were having fun.

Eddie suggested you head back to his van to get away from the noise and, “smoke a bowl he wouldn’t have to share with the entire party”. You were both a few beers and liquor shots in and feeling pretty giddy. The walk back to his van was quiet, the air crisp with the first real bite of autumn.

Eddie had his jacket slung over your shoulders- "Don’t want my Princess catching a cold," and his fingers were laced with yours, warm and steady.

You glanced at him, at the way the moonlight caught in his dark curls, at the satisfied little smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Eddie tugged open the van’s side door with a rusty creak, ushering you inside first with a gallant little bow.

"Your chariot awaits, m’lady," he said, voice slurring just enough to be adorable.

Inside, the van smelled like leather, cigarette smoke, and that cheap cologne he always over-sprayed but somehow made work. The back was a chaotic nest of blankets, like he’d planned for this moment.

He climbed in after you, pulled the door shut, and the world outside faded into muffled bass and crackling fire pit smoke.

It was just you and him now.

And his eyes-

God, his eyes.

All dark and greedy, dragging slow over you like he was trying to memorize every inch.

You fidgeted under the weight of his stare, tugging the edges of his jacket tighter around you.

He licked his lips absently. "You’re, uh… you’re really killin’ me tonight, Princess," he mumbled, thumbing the old metal Zippo lighter he pulled from his pocket. "You know that, right?"

You gave him your most innocent look. "Me? I’m not doing anything."

Eddie snorted, a low, disbelieving sound.

"Yeah, okay. Tell that to my rapidly deteriorating self-control."

He dug out a small, battered pipe and a baggie of green, his fingers deft even with the alcohol in his system. You watched him pack it, the motions practiced, easy- the tension between you thick enough to taste.

He struck the lighter, the tiny flame painting his face in gold for a heartbeat, and took a slow hit, holding it, eyes fluttering closed like he was savoring it. Then he leaned forward, mischievous and boyish and somehow devastating all at once.

"Want a hit, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low and rough. "It’s primo stuff. Swear to God, it’ll make you see stars."

You nodded, heart hammering against your ribs.

Eddie grinned, all teeth and trouble, and shifted closer, so close his thigh brushed yours.

He took another slow pull- and this time, instead of passing you the pipe, he caught your chin in his calloused fingers, moved his mouth centimeters from yours, and exhaled the smoke between your lips, lazy and deliberate.

Your lips parted on instinct, and you inhaled, heat rushing straight to your head- and not just from the weed.

The sheer audacity of it- the closeness, the way his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth after, rough and sweet and so very Eddie- made your whole body light up like the damn Fourth of July.

He watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, pleased.

"Good girl," he murmured, voice rumbling in his chest.

You coughed once, half from the smoke, half from the way his praise always punched you right in the gut.

Eddie laughed, loose and easy, flopping back against the blankets, taking another slow drag from the pipe and exhaling slowly, filling the space with a cloud of smoke, watching as the patterns swirled and moved around you almost hypnotically.

"Y'know," he drawled, "if I die tonight- heart attack, spontaneous combustion, whatever… just know, it was worth it. Totally worth it."

You crawled closer to him without thinking, emboldened by the tipsy buzz, the way he was looking at you like you hung the damn stars. You straddled his lap- tentative, unsure in such a public setting, but Eddie just went still, hands flying up like you were some skittish creature he didn’t wanna spook.

"Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa," he breathed, grinning so big it hurt. "Are you trying to kill me? Because this is... this is murder, sweetheart. First-degree."

You shrugged, letting his jacket slip down your arms just enough to show a little more skin. "Figured we should finish what we’ve started."

Eddie let out a strangled noise, part laugh, part groan, before setting aside his pipe, and giving in entirely- hands settling gently, reverently, at your hips.

"You’re gonna be the death of me," he whispered, absolutely in awe.

You leaned down, so close your noses brushed.

"Not tonight," you murmured, smiling against his mouth.

"Tonight, you're gonna live."

And then you kissed him.

And Eddie Munson- loudmouth, hellraiser, chaos incarnate, melted under you like sugar in the rain.

His hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp into his mouth. The moment your lips met, it was like someone had struck a match inside him- sudden, hungry, all-consuming.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment all night- hell, maybe he had. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, and when he nipped at your bottom lip, you swore you saw actual stars behind your eyelids.

"Fuck," he breathed against your mouth, voice wrecked already. "You’re gonna make all my prepubescent fantasies a reality, sweetheart." He said, giving your slave collar a tug.

You rolled your hips against him, just to hear the way his breath hitched, just to feel the way his fingers spasmed against your skin.

Eddie groaned, deep and ragged, tipping his head back against the van wall. "Jesus Christ. You’re trying to kill me."

You grinned, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, reveling in the way his muscles tensed under your touch. "I said you would live tonight."

"Yeah, but-" His words dissolved into a choked sound as you rocked against him again, slow and deliberate. "-fuck, okay, yeah, this is living. This is definitely living."

His hands slid up your sides, rough and reverent all at once, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the stupid gold, metal bikini top. He hesitated there, just for a second, like he was asking permission.

You answered by arching into his touch.

Eddie made a noise that was half growl, half prayer, before his fingers hooked under the metallic  fabric, tugging it down just enough to expose your nipples to the cool air- and his burning gaze.

"Fuck," he whispered again, like he couldn’t believe his luck. You, out here in his van in public view, dressed like so many of his teenage wet dreams come to life, "You’re perfect, you know that?"

You shivered under his attention, under the way his eyes darkened as he took you in.

Then his mouth was on you- hot, wet, insistent, and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

His tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing, tasting, before he sucked hard enough to make your back bow off his lap.

"Eddie-"

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending another jolt straight between your legs.

"Yeah, baby?" he murmured, his voice rough, ragged, drunk off you.

You tangled your fingers in his wild hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your breast, until he looked up at you- his pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips shiny from where he'd been kissing your breasts like a man starved.

You licked your lips slowly, deliberately, loving the way his gaze tracked the movement like a predator.

"I wanna make you feel good," you whispered, emboldened by the way he was already unraveling under your touch. "Wanna take care of you, Eddie."

Eddie froze for a split second, save for the sharp inhale he dragged through his nose, like his brain short-circuited. Then he tipped his head back against the van wall with a thud, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like holy fuckin' Christ.

"You- you don’t have to-" he stammered, the words more reflex than true protest, because his hips were already rolling forward, like he couldn’t help himself.

"But… F-fuck, sweetheart," he stammered, eyes wide, pupils blown so big they swallowed the brown whole. "You… Jesus Christ. You sure?"

You nodded, heart pounding so loud you could barely hear the bass still thudding from the party outside.

He looked at you like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

"Shit, okay. Okay, c’mere, gorgeous."

You kissed him again, hard and greedy, your hands already sliding down his chest, over the soft fabric of his vest, feeling the way his muscles flexed and twitched beneath your palms. He was already half-hard under you, pressing insistently against the seam of his pants.

You shifted back just enough to pop the button open with practiced ease, slow and deliberate, dragging the zipper down in one long, slow, agonizing pull just to watch him squirm, it had him groaning deep in his throat.

"Fuckin’- you’re gonna be the end of me, baby," he muttered, head thunking back against the van wall again.

You slipped your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around him through the thin cotton of his boxers. He was hot and heavy and throbbing in your hand, twitching when you gave him the lightest squeeze before pulling your hand back out.

Eddie whimpered- low and desperate.

"You’re not real," he said, voice breaking. "There’s no way you’re real."

You just smiled sweetly at him as you lowered yourself to your knees between his spread legs, the blankets underneath you shifting, the whole van creaking slightly with your movement. Your smile turned wicked and sweet all at once, hands sliding up his thighs- feeling the muscles tense under your palms. "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while." You confess, while Eddie lifted his hips obediently when you tugged his Han Solo pants and boxers down together, far enough to free him, groaning under his breath when his cock sprang free- thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip. He hissed when the cool air hit it.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he gasped, voice wrecked. "You’re- fuck- you’re a dream."

And God, the look he gave you- like you personally had delivered him to heaven's gate, was enough to have your own thighs clenching.

God, he was pretty- thick, flushed dark at the tip, a bead of pre-cum already glistening there. You wrapped your hand around him, giving a slow, lazy stroke from root to tip, loving the way his whole body shuddered at the touch, and he cursed viciously, clutching the blanket underneath him like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

He was heavy in your hand, hot and throbbing, and the needy little sounds he made when you swiped your thumb over the head- smearing the precum down the shaft, were nothing short of addictive.

You glanced up at him through your lashes, letting your tongue flick out to catch the bead of moisture gathering at the tip.

Eddie swore, a raw, desperate sound, both hands flying to bury in your hair, not pulling necessarily, just holding, like he needed the anchor.

You took your time, kitten-licking him from base to tip, letting your spit pool against him before swirling your tongue around the head, teasing, savoring every twitch and curse that fell from his lips. He slowly released your hair as he tried to control himself.

"You’re fuckin' evil," he said hoarsely, but there was no heat in it, only awe.

You leaned in, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock in one long, slow lick that had his thighs trembling under your hands. You lapped at the tip, tasting the salt-sharp tang of him, before swirling your tongue around it, teasing, playful.

Eddie made a broken, wrecked noise and bucked his hips slightly, chasing the heat of your mouth.

"Shit, sweetheart, please," he babbled, already half out of his mind. "Please, please, fuck, don’t tease me, I can’t-"

You took pity on him, finally wrapping your lips around the head and sinking down, taking him deeper, inch by slow inch, until the head bumped the back of your throat.

Eddie lost it, his hands flying back to your hair, tangling there- again, not pushing, just holding, like he couldn’t believe you were real, like he was terrified you’d vanish if he let go.

"Fuck, baby, fuck," he groaned, hips jerking up instinctively before he caught himself, fists clenching in your hair. "M'sorry- shit, you’re just- fuck, you’re perfect."

You bobbed your head, setting a slow, steady rhythm, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Every time you sank down, he made this guttural sound, deep and wrecked and absolutely fucking beautiful.

Spit was already dripping down your chin, slicking your hand, making everything wet and messy and so goddamn good.

You hummed low in your throat, the vibration making him buck again, and this time you encouraged him.

You relaxed your throat, let him slide deeper, your fingers digging into his thighs for leverage as you bobbed your head in slow, messy strokes.

The van filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your mouth working him over- slick, sloppy, filthy, and Eddie sounded even worse, moaning brokenly, whispering your name like a prayer, a curse, a benediction.

"Goddamn," he panted, one hand sliding down to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek in a sweet, almost reverent gesture. "So pretty with your mouth full of my cock. My pretty girl."

You moaned around him, the praise shooting straight to your pussy, and Eddie somehow felt it- felt the way you squeezed your thighs together, the way you sucked him deeper in response.

"You’re so good at this," Eddie panted, thighs trembling under your palms. "Fuck, baby, you’re too good, s’too good, I can’t-"

You moaned around him, the vibration making him jolt, curse, babble nonsense you couldn’t even make out.

You let your free hand drift up, palming his balls gently, rolling them in your hand, and Eddie convulsed, his hips jerking helplessly.

"Fuckfuckfuck-"

You pulled off just long enough to catch your breath, your lips swollen around the tip of his cock. Eddie looked down at you, wide-eyed and wrecked, his chest heaving, hair wild around his face.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, voice broken. "You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Holy shit, baby."

You smirked, licking a stripe up the vein throbbing along the underside of his cock, before swallowing him down again, deeper this time, until your nose brushed the rough patch of hair at his base.

Eddie groaned, slamming his head back against the van wall.

"Shit, shit, shit- fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last- gonna cum if you keep- baby, baby- you gotta- fuck, you gotta stop unless you wanna-"

Your nails dug into his thighs to hold him still when he tried to jerk away, tried to save you from what he clearly thought was a mistake.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, strings of spit and precum connecting your lips to the flushed head of his cock, and smiled up at him, smug and sinful.

"That's kinda the point, isn't it?" you teased, voice wrecked from the strain on your throat. “Mm… so sensitive.”

Eddie whimpered again.

"Please," he gasped, shameless now, hips rocking forward, chasing your mouth. "Please, sweetheart- wanna cum in your mouth- please-"

You wanted this- wanted him- wanted him to come undone for you, messy and desperate and wrecked.

You licked a broad stripe up the underside of his cock before taking him back in your mouth, harder this time, faster, messy and greedy, hollowing your cheeks and twisting your wrist in time with the bob of your head.

Eddie's thighs were trembling under your hands now, his breath coming in ragged gasps, fingers flexing helplessly in your hair.

You reached up to cradle his balls again, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Fucking… baby-"

You hollowed your cheeks, sucked hard, and that was it.

Eddie shattered.

He came with a hoarse, strangled cry of your name, hips stuttering, his thighs locking up, whole body going taut as a bowstring as he spilled thick, hot spurts painting the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, greedily, savoring the taste, the way he shook under your hands, the broken whimpers spilling from his lips like you were his whole fucking world, you moaned at the taste, the feel, the way he fucking fell apart for you.

You milked him through it, kept sucking him, gentle now, slowing your pace, letting him ride it out, licking him clean, savoring every twitch and whimper he gave you. His hand stroking through your hair in something like gratitude, something like awe.

He stared at you with blown-out eyes, chest heaving, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. When you finally pulled off him with a soft pop, he looked absolutely destroyed- flushed, wide-eyed, boneless, and grinning like a man who had just seen God and lived to tell the tale.

"You," he panted, chest heaving, "are a goddess, sweetheart. I’m- fuck, I’m never gonna recover from that."

You just grinned, smug and satisfied, and a little dizzy from the intensity of it, crawling back up into his lap, straddling him again. He caught your face in his hands, kissing you like he needed you to breathe.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips. Your breaths tangling. His skin was too hot, too tight, like his body didn’t know whether to collapse or soar.

"You are," he said, voice reverent, "the best thing that’s ever happened to me." he looked into your eyes earnestly, "I don't just love you," he said, voice low. "I'm pretty sure you're it for me."

The world held its breath.

Somewhere in the distance, a car horn blared- a ridiculous reminder that the world kept turning outside your perfect little moment.

Then he let out a breathless little laugh, cuddling you against his chest, burying his nose in your hair.

"And I am so gonna return the favor, sweetheart," he promised, voice thick with dirty, earnest devotion. "Count on it."

You caught the faintest shimmer of starlight caught in the mess of his hair, like even the universe had decided to leave a fingerprint behind.

Eddie didn’t want to let go of you, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he was scared you’d evaporate into mist if he loosened his grip. His heart thundered against your chest, his breathing still a little ragged, but you could feel the giddy smile pulling at his lips where he pressed kisses into your collarbones.

“You're officially a war crime, sweetheart," he mumbled against your skin. "I'm filing a grievance with the Geneva Convention.”

You snorted, your whole body trembling with leftover adrenaline and laughter.

"Oh yeah?" you teased, dragging your fingers lazily over the tattoos on his arms. "Whatcha gonna tell 'em? That I sucked you dry within an inch of your life?"

He groaned, half in agony, half in awe.

"Don't say it like that," he whined dramatically, thumping his head back against the van wall again. "I’m still seein’ stars, babe. Gimme like, five business days to recover."

You giggled, shifting to press a kiss to his jaw, and he turned his head to catch your lips with his, soft and sweet this time. No rush. No urgency. Just Eddie, tasting you, savoring you, holding you like you were something fragile and precious and entirely his.

The distant thump of bass from the party outside was starting to die down, replaced by the murmur of voices and the occasional car door slamming shut. It was late- almost time for phase two of tonight’s big, dumb, spooky adventure.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, still glassy and worshipful.

“C’mon, Munson," you said gently, brushing a few wild curls off his forehead. "We gotta get moving if we’re gonna make it to the haunted house."

Eddie groaned again- a different kind of groan this time.

"Don’t remind me," he said, stretching his arms above his head like a big lazy cat, every muscle rippling under his rumpled clothes. "I was hopin’ I could keep you here, locked in my van of sin, forever."

You laughed and rolled off him, tugging your Slave Leia costume back into something resembling order.

"As tempting as that sounds," you said dryly, "I kinda promised Steve I wouldn’t bail. He’s been weirdly intense about it all night."

Eddie wrinkled his nose, fumbling to tuck himself back into his pants.

"Yeah, 'cause Harrington’s got a hero complex and he thinks he’s gonna save some dumbass kid from getting fake-possessed or whatever."

You laughed, "It’s not fake! They say the old Carson House is actually haunted."

Eddie shot you a flat look, deadpan as hell.

"Sweetheart. If ghosts were real, I would've been possessed like seventeen times by now. You know how much sketchy shit I've touched?"

You snickered, sliding over to bop him on the nose.

"Just try not to antagonize the spirits tonight, Munson."

He smirked, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back down into his lap for a quick, dirty kiss that left you breathless.

"No promises," he murmured against your lips. "But if some vengeful ghost wants to possess me and make me rail you into next week, I won't complain."

You shoved him, laughing, and he finally let you go.

Outside the van, the cool autumn air hit you immediately- crisp, sharp, and smelling faintly of bonfires and wet leaves. The party was winding down, the last stragglers laughing and yelling as they made their way to cars parked haphazardly along the dirt road.

You spotted Steve first, standing next to Robin by his BMW, arms crossed, looking very much like a stressed-out dad waiting for his delinquent teenagers to get their shit together. Dustin was perched on the hood, swinging his legs impatiently.

Steve’s eyes landed on you and Eddie, and immediately, he threw his hands in the air.

"Finally! Jesus Christ, what were you two doing? We’re gonna miss the good haunting window!"

Robin snorted, elbowing him.

"Relax, Dad. Ghosts don’t exactly punch a time clock."

Eddie slung an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close, totally unbothered by Steve’s melodramatics. "We were conducting... spiritual research," he said solemnly, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You hid your grin against his side as Steve made a gagging noise loud enough for the whole county to hear.

"Gross," Dustin said flatly. "You're gross. Both of you."

You and Eddie just laughed, totally unapologetic.

"C'mon, lovebirds," Robin called, already climbing into the passenger seat. "Let’s go get our souls devoured or whatever."

Eddie squeezed you one more time, whispering low against your ear, "Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll protect you from the scary ghosties."

You turned your face up to his, smiling slow and wickedly.

"I’m not scared," you said sweetly. "But you might be when they start throwing shit at your head."

He barked out a laugh, kissing your forehead before tugging you toward Steve’s car.

“Bring it on, Casper,” Eddie muttered under his breath, grinning like a man about to make very bad decisions.

The moment you all pulled up to the Carson House, the energy shifted. Even Eddie- who’d spent the entire car ride cracking jokes about ghostly handjobs and ectoplasmic jizz, went quiet as he took in the looming, dilapidated structure.

The house was old. The kind of old that made your skin prickle just looking at it. Peeling paint, sagging porch, windows like hollowed-out eyes staring back at you. The October wind whistled through the broken slats, carrying the faint scent of damp wood and something... metallic.

Steve cut the engine, and for a second, no one moved.

Then Dustin, ever the fearless little shit, clapped his hands together.

"Alright, team! Let’s get spooked!"

Robin groaned, rubbing her arms. "I regret everything. I should’ve stayed home with a bowl of popcorn and Poltergeist."

Eddie, still pressed against your side, smirked. "Oh, c’mon, Buckley. Where’s your sense of adventure?"

"In my bed. Under ten blankets. With the lights on."

You snorted, but your fingers tightened around Eddie’s anyway as you all piled out of the car.

Steve, ever the reluctant leader, pulled two small flashlights from his back pocket, handed one to Robin and flicked his on. The beam cut through the darkness like a knife as they walked toward the house.

"Alright, ground rules," he announced, voice firm. "No splitting up. No touching weird shit. And if anything starts moving on its own, we leave. Got it?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom."

Steve shot him a glare. "I’m serious, Munson. Last time you ‘investigated’ something, you came back with a black eye and a stolen stop sign."

"That was one time!"

You squeezed Eddie’s hand. "Let’s just get on with this."

He grinned down at you, all teeth and mischief. "Aw, sweetheart. You’re no fun."

Then he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

"Unless you wanna sneak off and make out in the haunted master bedroom."

You shoved him, laughing, and he stumbled dramatically into Dustin, who squawked in protest.

The front door creaked open with a groan that sounded way too much like a dying animal.

Steve took point, flashlight raised like a sword, the beam trembling slightly as he stepped over the threshold and flicked on the lights that only just vaguely worked. The floorboards groaned under his weight, the sound echoing through the hollow belly of the house like a warning.

They walked in further, looking around. The air that rushed out to meet you wasn’t just cold- it smelled wrong, sharp and sweet, like rotting fruit left too long in a closed room. For a second, you could’ve sworn the shadows shifted just beyond the flashlight’s reach, curling inward like something breathing.

Eddie, of course, couldn’t resist.

"Ooooh, spooky," he stage-whispered, wiggling his fingers near your ear just to make you jump. "You feel that, sweetheart? That’s the icy grip of death creeping up your spine-“

Something whispered at the edge of your hearing. Not words- just the hiss of something dragging fingernails over the inside of your skull. You jerked your head around, but Eddie just laughed harder.

You elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up.”

Dustin, already halfway down the hall, spun around with his own flashlight he’d brought himself. "Guys! There’s, like, actual pentagrams scratched into the walls back here!"

Behind his shout, you caught it again- that same tiny, broken giggle, barely a breath of sound, like a radio dial caught between stations.

Robin froze. "Okay, new rule: No one says ‘pentagram’ in a haunted house. That’s just asking for trouble."

Steve shot her a grateful look. "Thank you."

Eddie, meanwhile, had already dragged you toward the markings, his grip tight around your wrist. "Oh, this is choice,” he murmured, tracing a finger over the crude carvings. "Bet you five bucks some satanic panic dumbass did this to scare off realtors."

You squinted. "Or, y’know. Demons.”

He barked a laugh, loud enough to startle a flurry of dust from the ceiling. "Baby, if demons were real, they’d have recruited me by now."

A floorboard cracked overhead.

Everyone went still.

Steve’s flashlight jerked upward. "What was-“

THUMP.

Something heavy dragged across the floor above you.

Robin made a noise like a deflating balloon. "Nope. Nope, nope, nope-“

Dustin, eyes wide, grabbed Eddie’s arm. "Dude. Dude. That was not the wind."

Eddie’s grin didn’t waver, but you felt his pulse jump under your fingers.

"Oh, it’s definitely the wind. The super haunted wind," he said too fast. "Or like, house settling noises or somethin’."

Then-

A child’s laugh. High, giggling, wrong.

It dripped down the stairs like syrup, sweet and rotting.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then the lights flickered. Once. Twice.

And died.

Total darkness swallowed the hallway.

The flashlights sputtered, beams coughing against the thick, oily black- barely cutting more than a few feet ahead.

You grabbed blindly for Eddie, fingers tangling in the fabric of his vest.

He was already pulling you closer, one arm looping tight around your waist.

Somewhere ahead, Dustin whispered, “Steve?”

“Still here,” Steve hissed back. His voice sounded farther away than it should have. Warped. Like you were hearing him underwater.

The air grew heavy.

Like the whole house was breathing- exhaling mildew and something fouler through the cracked walls.

The boards under your feet felt... wrong.

Soft. Spongy. As if you might sink straight through the floor if you stood still too long.

Robin’s flashlight jittered in her hands, the beam strobing over the peeling wallpaper- and that's when you saw it.

A shadow. Not yours. Not anyone else's.

A child's silhouette, standing at the top of the stairs.

Still. Watching.

Your mouth dried up instantly.

You blinked- and it was gone.

Eddie muttered under his breath, low and fast. You caught the tail end of it:

"... not real... just old wiring... stupid house..."

Another floorboard cracked overhead- only this time, it was accompanied by scraping.

A dragging sound.

Wet and slow, like something heavy being pulled across the floor.

Steve cursed.

"New plan," he said sharply. "Out. Now."

But when you turned to follow him-

-The hallway stretched.

Elongated, walls bowing inward like some grotesque funhouse mirror.

You stumbled back, heart hammering, the floor under your costume boots sloping the wrong way.

"D-Do you guys see that?" Dustin’s voice wobbled.

No one answered.

The flashlight beams trembled.

And then they died completely, swallowed by the dark.

That was when the whispers started.

Soft at first. Like the scrape of dead leaves across pavement.

Then louder.

Children’s voices, overlapping and clashing, singing some broken, mangled nursery rhyme you couldn’t quite make out.

Ring around the rosie...

Ashes, ashes...

The temperature dropped again, sharp as a slap.

Robin whimpered.

Your fingers dug into Eddie's wrist.

You could feel his heart hammering against your fingertips, out of rhythm, too fast.

Then-

Something cold brushed your ankle.

Not a draft.

Fingers.

You yelped, jerking away.

Eddie spun, pulling you behind him like a human shield, his head snapping back and forth, trying to see.

But there was nothing.

Just that bloated, living darkness pressing closer, thick enough to suffocate.

A child's voice slithered into your ear, so close it prickled your skin:

"Why’d you leave me here?"

You gasped- and Steve grabbed your wrist, yanking you toward what you prayed was the front door.

"Move!" he barked.

The house moaned around you, nails groaning in their frames, beams cracking overhead.

Something above gave way with a sickening splintering sound- and a chandelier crashed to the floor behind you, sending up a choking cloud of dust and debris.

Still, you ran.

Stumbling, sprinting, half-dragging each other.

Panicking, screaming over each other in your mad dash to get the hell out of there.

Minutes felt like hours.

The front door was right there. You hadn’t even entered that far into the house.

You could see it.

But the closer you got, the farther it seemed to stretch away, like the house was playing with you.

Mocking you.

Eddie's grip on your hand was bruising.

He didn’t let go even when something cold and wet grabbed at his ankle, yanking him back hard enough that he grunted and stumbled, he continued to get dragged further back into the house.

You screamed his name, getting dragged back with him-

-and the front door exploded open, as if the house finally got bored of the game.

You spilled out into the night in a tangle of limbs and ragged breath, cold October air slapping your faces like a bucket of ice water.

Behind you, the Carson House seemed to shudder.

The windows flared, catching the moonlight-

-and for one blinding second, you swore you saw the child again.

Pressing a small, bloody hand against the glass.

Watching.

Waiting.

The front door slammed shut on its own with a final, thunderous boom.

Silence fell over the street.

For a solid ten seconds, no one moved. The only sound was the ragged panting of your group as you all tried to catch your breath on the dew-damp grass and the distant hum of cicadas in the trees.

Then-

THUMP.

A single, deliberate knock against the inside of the front door.

Robin made a noise like a high pitched squeal and scrambled toward the BMW.

Steve wasn’t far behind, hauling Dustin up by the back of his jacket like a misbehaving kitten.

You and Eddie?

You were still tangled together on the ground, his arms locked around you like a vice. His chest rose and fell against your back, his breath hot and uneven against your neck.

"Okay," he rasped, voice wrecked. "Okay. Maybe ghosts are real."

You wheezed out a laugh, half-hysterical. "You think?"

Eddie turned his head toward you, his brown eyes blown wide, wild, still buzzing with adrenaline. His hair was a mess, leaves and dust tangled in the curls.

And then-

He grinned.

That stupid, reckless, Eddie Munson grin.

"Sweetheart," he said, breathless, "that was awesome."

You groaned, shoving at his shoulder. "You’re insane."

He caught your wrist, pulling you closer, his grin softening into something warmer, fonder.

"Maybe," he admitted. "But you love it."

You did.

God help you, you did.

Somewhere behind you, Steve revved the BMW’s engine like an impatient dad.

"Get in the goddamn car before I leave you both here!"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he hauled you both to your feet, keeping one arm slung around your waist as you stumbled toward the car.

Robin was already in the front seat, hugging her knees to her chest.

Dustin was pale, gripping the headrest in front of him like he was about to puke.

Steve looked like he was seconds away from having an aneurysm.

Eddie, meanwhile, collapsed into the backseat with you, still grinning like a maniac.

"Alright, Harrington," he announced, slapping the back of Steve’s seat. "Next stop- waffle house. I need pancakes after that."

Steve turned around slowly, his expression flat.

"Munson, if you think I'm driving you to get pancakes after that, you're even dumber than you look."

Eddie gasped, clutching his chest like he'd been shot. "Harrington! That's cold. After all we've been through together?"

Robin groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing her temples. "Can we please just go home? I need to bleach my brain after whatever the hell that was."

Dustin, still gripping the headrest like his life depended on it, finally found his voice. "We are never doing that again. Ever. I don't care if Eddie attempts to bribe you all with free weed-"

"Hey!" Eddie protested.

"-or if Steve promises to buy us all milkshakes. Never again."

You slumped against Eddie's side, exhaustion finally catching up with you. His arm tightened around your shoulders, his fingers idly tracing circles on your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring, "You good, sweetheart?"

You nodded, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Yeah. Just... maybe no more haunted houses for a while."

He grinned, that same reckless, heart-stopping grin that had gotten you into this mess in the first place. "Aw, c'mon. Where's your sense of adventure?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest as Steve finally pulled the car onto the road, muttering something about "idiot friends".

Outside, the Carson House stood silent in the moonlight, its windows dark.

But as the BMW disappeared down the road, a single, bloodied handprint slowly faded from the glass.

Like it had never been there at all.

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be tagged! And to which fandom. (Bayverse TMNT, Vegeta, Eddie Munson).

@justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55

Masterlist

[yostresswritinggirl]

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

[lovelytarou]

late night rendezvous

— in which suna rintarou invites you to a late night drive

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

genre: fluff, a lil angst

tags: suna waking you up at midnight to drive, late night driving basically, just you two being goofballs at midnight

a/n: i based this from the suna drabble i wrote a while back and it keeps nagging on my brain to write it. was actually gonna post it for his birthday but it's already the 26th at 2am here ://

suna didn't expect his party to be wild this year. granted, he should have expected the twins planning one without his knowing. leave it up to them to cause mischief and be the biggest party people he has ever known.

it was crazy, to say the least. he had recognized a few people who were in the party – his teammates, classmates, schoolmates, even past relationships and acquaintances he most certainly isn't aware the twins invited. he even spotted a few volleyball opponents they fought before and wished him a happy birthday.

he was surrounded by all of this people but his mind is looking for another person.

the twins couldn't have forgotten about you, could they? you're just as close to them as he is.

“what’s up, sunarin?” atsumu patted him on the back rather harshly, making him stumble a few steps forward.

he swear to the gods, his strength can be abnormal sometimes.

“have you seen y/n by any chance?” he asked, neck craning to and fro like a giraffe, “you invited them, right?”

“about that...” atsumu winced at suna’s harsh glare.

“we sort of...forgot?”

suna gave him a deadpan look.

“really? of all people, you forgot about them?” atsumu could only whine in return as he profusely apologized to the birthday boy.

deciding to ditch the party, he got out of the crowded house brimming with music and alcohol and got inside his car. he fished his phone from his pocket and immediately messaged you.

what he didn't realize was that it was basically 2am in the morning, and it's a weekday. you're probably asleep by now, suna thought. but will that ever stop him? nope.

cursing under his breath, he pocketed his phone and drove away.

the series of knocks stirred you from your peaceful slumber. after doing a shit ton of tasks, you immediately headed straight to bed, completely forgetting about giving your gift to your boyfriend – who forgot to invite you for his party. you slept with a slight ache in your chest upon seeing the posts the twins have on their socials and can't help but feel a little jealous.

the knocks ranged from gentle to hurried bangs on your window. huffing through your nose in irritation, you rolled over to the other side and peeked an eye. you almost had a heart attack when you saw who was looking through the glass.

“for fuck's sake, rin, you scared the shit out of me! some of us need to sleep for 8-10 hours, you know,” you scolded him, keeping your voice down as to not wake the people in your house, a bewildered look in your face as you take him in.

he's dressed handsomely and you guessed the twins forced him to because he doesn't really like to put much effort into his clothes, but he looks great in them always.

“i missed you,” he blurted, eyes searching your sleep-laced ones as he reached for your hand.

“we didn't see each other all day, i figured we can catch up now?” he offered, biting on his lower lip. he knows you might say no considering how late it is but he was also hoping you would say yes.

he wanted to end his day with a memorable moment with you.

“at 2 in the morning, rintarou?” you gave him an exasperated look but the thump in your heart and the voice inside your head convincing you that you've got nothing to lose is louder than any logical reasoning right now.

“alright, i'll get ready in five minutes.” you pecked him on the cheek, pushing his chest slightly as suna mouthed a yes before climbing off your window.

honestly, you don't know how he does that.

you sneaked to your door after getting ready and made sure you locked it again before joining suna in his car.

once you sat down on the passenger's seat, suna did not hesitate to capture your lips with his. the kiss seemed to stretched on for hours, his lips tasting like the alcohol he consumed in the party and faint smell of smoke. you giggled against his lips before pulling away.

“go eat some mint, your breath stinks!” you teased, nose wrinkling in mock disgust.

suna rolled his eyes, “says the one who has morning breath,”

the insulted look in your face made him cackle loudly inside the car as he pulled out of the driveway, his hand supporting your seat behind your head.

you fumbled with your seatbelt for a moment and suna seemed to have noticed it as his hands replaced yours and slid it down gently with a click. his hair tickled your neck as his face was so close to you, you can smell his perfume and him.

“if you keep looking at me that, we won't be going anywhere, baby.” he smirked, catching your eyes staring at his exposed chest that's been revealed by his shirt.

gulping down your saliva, you just smacked his arm in retaliation, earning another laugh from your boyfriend.

“just shut up and drive, rintarou.”

and so he did. suna connected his phone to his car and turned up the music. your eyes widened in realization as you recognized the song, or specifically the playlist. it was something the two of you made one boring afternoon. you were just playing around and adding iconic songs and some underrated ones to a playlist named after the two of you. you didn't know he would keep it and play it now.

suna had a faint smile on his face once the first few notes of the song played. he hummed to the music, fingers drumming on the stirring wheel. you yourself is tapping yours on your lap, but later, suna interlaced his free hand with yours and squeezing it lightly.

you enjoyed this moment more than anything. maybe it's because you just woke up and it's literally in the early morning and suna dragged you out of bed and you're still a little drowsy, but this all feels like a dream. something you don't wanna wake up from. it might be the city lights cascading down the road, the empty streets you passed, or the fact that the world is most likely asleep at the moment and getting to share it with him of all people is truly something magical.

as you were crossing a bridge, you felt the urge to turn down the window on your side, letting the wind hit your face as you closed your eyes. you danced to the music, albeit stupidly, but you didn't care. you sang loudly to your heart's content but you might be singing the words wrong, yet in suna's eyes, as you scream into the night, with your hair being ruffled by the wind and the city lights flickering behind you – he can't help the laugh bubbling out of him, because god, how did he get so lucky to have you?

you urged him to dance with you to the song and he did so although you made fun of him and his robotic moves. you spent the whole ride just singing and goofing off in the night.

after a while, you guys stopped at a restaurant to get some food before going home. by the time suna drove to your house, it was almost 6am. he forgot he still had practice later, but when he's with you, you're the only thing that mattered to him.

in the end, suna ended up showing you how he was able to climb up your window and even tagged you along with it. you almost fell and broke a leg but good thing your troublemaker of a boyfriend was there.

“so, i guess this is goodnight?” suna sighed forlornly as he sat at your windowsill.

“more like good morning to me,” you chuckled, staring down at your linked hands that are both refusing to let go. “i had fun tonight, rin –oh wait! i almost forgot!”

he was left confused when you suddenly ran around your room looking for something until you emerged with a small neatly wrapped box in your hands.

“for me? y/n, you really didn't have to,” he scratched his neck as he stared at the gift.

“just open it, rin!”

you bounced in place as you watch his face closely while opening the gift.

“is this real? how did you–” he got the camera out of the box, you had gifted him a polaroid since you saw how he loves to ‘document’ things so much and you figured he might want to make a lot of memories, hopefully with you in them as well.

“y/n, i love it. i love you,” he then wrapped you in his arms, his chest feeling warm and fuzzy with overwhelming love for you.

“i love you too, and i'm glad you did or else all the money i've saved up for will be useless.” you teased, smiling fondly at him as he examined the polaroid camera.

“this is the best birthday ever,” he leaned for a kiss, tilting his head to deepen it. you soon have to pull yourselves away before it got any late.

“now go home, rin!” you practically shoved him out of your window, he went in for one last kiss before hopping off.

he walked towards his car but before he get inside he looked back to you.

“i'll take to you to lunch later!”

you rolled your eyes, knowing full well suna's going to be sleeping in til the afternoon.

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: vii, viii

"What? They can't just break up like that!" you gaped, shaking Renjun's shoulder lightly to exaggerate your point. Renjun rolled his eyes before clicking his tongue, "oh come on, you didn't see that coming? Their relationship was bound to end at some point, y/n."

You were both binge watching the ninth season of The Big Bang Theory at your house, originally planning to study and do chemistry homework  together, but being the procrastinator you were, you ended up getting distracted. Hence, why the two of you are sitting on your bed watching one of the most heartbreaking episodes on The Big Bang Theory while munching on some pizza,

“But they were so cute together! My Shelamy heart can’t take this, Injun!” you shook your best friend aggressively as you continue to whine, ignoring the sighing boy who was contemplating on why he was even friends with you in the first place. “He even got a ring for her, if that isn’t the cutest thing ever then I don’t know what is,” you groaned, collapsing on your bed as the thought of someone giving you a wedding ring made your heart flutter.

“Always the hopeless romantic,” Renjun sighs, running a hand down his face as if to say ‘I’m so done right now’. “Disgusting,” he teased, letting out a soft grunt once he felt you throw a pillow at the back of his head. “Shut up, nerd. You still have to find your soulmate, why not let your magnificent best friend mourn over the fact that she’s gonna be single for the rest of her life and let a girl dream?” you joked, earning a dark glare from Renjun.

Ouch, why did that hurt? It was your own joke after all. 

“Don’t say that you sadist. You need to stop making jokes bout the bad things in life, that’s not very healthy.” Renjun lectured, his hand coming up to pinch your cheek hard. You frowned, pulling his hand away from you as you chuckled nervously. “You know me, Jun. Humor is a coping mechanism for everything. I’m mad at you when you mock me for simping over Timothée Chalamet when he starred on Little Women? I use sarcastic humor as a revenge.” 

“I feel frustrated for failing that test because the damn substitute teacher wouldn’t believe me that I didn’t skip school instead of spending the whole day in the infirmary with a twisted ankle, watching Goblin with the nurse? I use sardonic humor to snap back at said teacher.”

“I get sad for accepting the fact that I am going to be single for the rest of my life? I use dark humor to cope with it instead of curling up in a ball and eat ice cream for the rest of my life and get Type 2 Diabetes.” you shrugged shamelessly as Renjun gaped at you, rubbing his temples to slowly process on your words. “Okay, firstly,” he started.

“One, Timothée Chalamet in that movie was desperately simping over a girl who clearly didn’t deserve him. Come on, tell me you didn’t get annoyed when he keep saying the l word at Jo despite her spilling her feelings out and rejecting him countless of times.” Renjun inhaled, his eyes boring widely into yours, his words speaking nothing but facts. “I get that but-” you started before the older boy cut you off, “I’m not done yet.”

“Secondly, that substitute teacher wasn’t even a teacher. She was an ear raping machine, no one liked her. Also, I gotta admit spending a whole school day watching the Goblin arguing with The Grim Reaper instead of spending excruciating hours writing your wrist off and trying not to snooze in the middle of Mr. Lee’s math lecture would’ve been the most luxurious thing a student could ever ask for”. And I am pissed off you got injured and left me there in class, suffering all by myself.” he laughed, flicking you on the forehead teasingly.

“Lastly, if you want to say something bout Jaemin, you know you could’ve just say so instead of sugar coating it.” Renjun sucked in his lips, smacking you with the pillow you threw at him previously, mentally preparing himself to comfort you knowing that you’re bout to go on another rant of how much you missed Jaemin. But if it helps you feel better and take another small step to moving on, then he’ll listen to you rant til his brain implodes.

You frowned, letting out a soft chuckle. “You know me too well, Jun.” you felt tears lining up your eyes, you leaned your head up, trying to blink the tears away. “It’s not helping when he’s literally next door. Or in the same school as I am, or in the same planet.” you leaned back to lay on your back on the mattress, your pillow hugged tightly to your chest as you let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Renjun patted your knee, silently urging you to continue to let out your thoughts. You couldn’t advert your gaze away from your ceiling, “He used to be so sweet before this whole soulmate ordeal,” you began with a sniffle. “Honestly, middle school was one of the best eras of my life. When me and Jaemin were just clowns on crack playing Five Nights At Freddy’s and goofing off, it still makes my heart flutter when I think bout the memorable moments we shared in middle school.” you closed your eyes as a flood of memories clouded your mind.

  7th grade, an iconic year for your friendship. “Y/N!” Jaemin called out from the other side of the classroom, causing you to turn to him in the middle of your little gossip session with your friends. “You wanna play truth or dare with us?” he asked with a sweet smile, a few of your classmates gathering to the back of the class to sit down in a circle. You nodded in excitement, ditching your friends in hopes you get a spicy dare.

You sat in between Lia and Jeno, rubbing your hands together as you waited your turn to either give or receive a truth or dare. “Jaemin! Truth or dare?” a boy whose name you can’t recall asked with a mischievous smile. Jaemin rolled his eyes before answering “dare” with a bold, cocky smirk, eyes practically challenging his classmate to give him an extreme dare. The boy stopped to contemplate before turning to him with a cheeky chesire grin.

“Since you’re so close to Y/n, why don’t you sit on her lap?” the boy snarled, causing your classmates to let out whistles and soft “ooo”s around you. You raised a brow, “wait a second, that’s not fair. This is his dare not mine, why am I the one being sat on.” you whined as Jaemin tried to hide his flustered expression of sitting on his best friend’s lap. “Well, it’s a dare either way, he’s gotta do it whether he wants to or not.” he stuck his tongue out at you as you hissed back.

“Fine.” you mumbled as Jaemin laughed and tried to conceal his flustered expression and sat on your lap idly, his hands in between his legs as you try to restrain yourself from wrapping your arms around his waist and making things even more awkward than it already is. “What’s the big deal? You wanted me to sit on her lap, why are you so shocked?” Jaemin laughed as a few of your classmates just stared at the two of you in disbelief. 

“How are you not uncomfortable with a guy sitting on top of your lap?” your friend asked from across the group circle. You shrugged, raising your brow as Jaemin lets out a laugh, shrugging in response as well. “Is it wrong for a person to sit on their best friend’s lap?” Jaemin asked with a raise of his brow, a teasing smile evident on his face as your friend struggled to find the words to say next.

“I must admit, you are quite heavy. I don’t think my legs are going to last long with your heavy, tall giraffe-like body.” you laughed, causing Jaemin to turn his head back at you with a glare, letting out a small sinister smile. ”That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, y/n. Suffer.” he spoke in a bittersweet tone.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you had Mr. Na Jaemin sitting on your lap? For how long? All because of a dare?” Renjun paused, rubbing his temples to process this whole information. He knew Jaemin was a shameless and rather affectionately touchy boy, but he didn’t know that he was willing to accept such a gutsy dare. Yet again, this is you, he’s talking bout. The person who kept going for two years despite being rejected and gossiped left and right.

You shrugged, sitting up on the bed. “I was like, 11 years old. What do you want me to do, Huang? Born to be the family disgrace.” you grinned proudly, wiggling your brows as you placed a hand under your chin to pose dramatically. “You shouldn’t be proud of that. Weird flex but okay,” Renjun sighed heavily, raising a bottle of coke to his lips.

You inhaled as you began to spill another memorable moment from your childhood. 

If there was one thing you and Jaemin had in common, it was that you both have absolutely no shame when flaring your dramatics.

It was 5th grade, you assume, when you and Jaemin had your first indirect kiss. It was a disturbingly iconic moment for the two of you, considering years after the incident you two kept doing it as if it were a part of your daily routine. You were at that age where kids around you were starting to take notice bout the soulmate concept. Teachers began explaining how the soulmate system worked during science class, causing you to involuntarily look at Jaemin from time to time to catch his disgusted expressions.

Often, snickering at the boy sitting in front of you who was gagging and mimicking the teacher as she explains. Sticking his tongue out in disgust when they started explaining the left tattoo concept. Jaemin sighed heavily, his hand stretching out to grab the water bottle on his table. His finger raised to push the lid off with a small pop, drinking without hesitation.

Jaemin looked down as he closed the lid and his brows furrowed at the oh-so-familiar name label on the lid of said water bottle. Written on the pink label with a sailor moon picture on the side was Y/N L/N. Jaemin almost threw up when he turned to you slowly, making you look up from your notes to give him a questioning nod at his horrified expression.

The little boy raised the water bottle to show you your little sailor moon label, making you raise your brow questioningly, as if to say, ‘what’s wrong with my sailor moon label?’ 

Crud, he forgot you were using the same water bottles your parents got you when you were both shopping at the thrift store.

Your eyes widened in realization when Jaemin pointed at himself and your bottle, trying not to scream in terror and get a scolding from your strict science teacher. ‘Did you,’ you mouthed, pointing an accusitory finger at the boy sitting in distress in front of you. ‘Drink from my,’ you continued, using your other hand to point dramatically at yourself then to your bottle that was still in his hands. ’My bottle?’ you asked with wide terrified eyes.

Jaemin practically gulped nervously, nodding in response. You both took a moment just staring into each other’s terrified expression, before mouthing ‘what the heck?!’ or ‘oh crud’ repeatedly, as to not gain your teacher’s attention.’You drank from my water bottle, Jaemin?!’ you mouthed, rubbing your hands against your face in distress. ‘How am i suppose to drink now?’ you whined, facepalming now that Jaemin had placed your water bottle back on your desk.

‘How am I suppose to live now knowing your spit is basically in my body? ‘ Jaemin shudders in response, grabbing his throat with disgust laced across his face. ‘Gross, I have your germs in my mouth.’ he stuck his tongue out in disgust, fake gagging as you rolled your eyes.

Renjun just gave you an incredulous look, his mouth gaping open, trying to decide whether to laugh or shake his head profusely. “Gosh, you two were born to be so dramatic. Seriously, while other people are having a mental breakdown over doing algebra, you two were in the back of the class making lovey-dovey faces because you two had your first indirect kiss.” Renjun laughed, clapping his hands as he howled back in laughter.

You sat up and whined, smacking your best friend with the pillow you were hugging earlier, causing him to laugh even more.”Oh god, I wish I came here sooner to witness that.” he wheezed, dodging your hits with his forearms as you continued to smack him on the face, chanting “shut up, Huang!” repeatedly in shame.

“I couldn’t drink from that bottle for months! It was my favorite bottle, too! The fact that Jaemin brings that bottle to school everyday was just traumatizing for the both of us! Instant trauma,” you groaned, leaning back dramatically against the mattress. Renjun laughed, smacking you with a pillow. “How did that even happen?” he asked incredulously.

“Some kid decided it would be funny to switch our bottles.” you pouted, stretching your arms across the bed like a starfish. “Did you two do anything bout it?” Renjun asked, his brows raising in amusement, practically eating your hilarious story up like it was a tub of candy. You sighed, looking away for a moment before mumbling under your breath.

“Jaemin said we should’ve replace the water in his water bottle with tap water from the bathroom, but I didn’t want to risk the guy getting a tummy ache so I spat in his drink instead.“

Renjun howled with laughter, a hand coming to hold his stomach as he leaned his head back laughing. “Why would you- Oh my god, this is gold. I can’t-” he wheezed, tears lining his vision as his tummy started to ache from laughing so hard. “Shut up! I was like, nine years old at the time. At that exact moment I felt no remorse for my actions whatsoever but now that I said it, it makes me feel even worse!” you whine, your feet kicking Renjun off the bed.

He landed on your carpet floor with a loud thud, his laughter subsiding into giggles. “That’s the chaotic energy everyone in this generation wants to have, holy shit, why wasn’t this documented ? This could’ve gone down as one of the most iconic moments in history. Honestly, whoever that kid who switched your bottle was, he’s that hero that doesn’t even need a cape.” he jokes, sitting up to earn a death glare from you.

Oh, if looks could kill, right now.

“Whatever, you sadist. Enjoying your time as you watch me suffer in despair.” you swung your arm over your eyes dramatically, feeling the mattress sink, assuming that Renjun had climbed onto the bed once again. “Come on, tell me another one. I promise I won’t laugh,” Renjun raised his pinkie finger with a soft smile. You raised your brow at him with your lips in a frown, causing Renjun to shrug innocently, “too much.”

You inhaled, your mind delving deep into the loving memories you had with Jaemin throughout your life. Your heart clenched at the next story you were bout to tell, the memory making your heart wanting to reach out for his even more. “Well, there was this one time-”

  Ninth grade. Senior year of middle school. The previous day, you danced under the rain as Jaemin watched you from under the bus stop, hiding for shelter as you jumped around the empty cold streets. The fresh smell of rain hitting your nostrils as water made your clothes clung to your skin. Unfortunately for you, the next day you immediately got sick with a fever.

Receiving countless of text messages saying either ‘I told you so’ or ‘lucky bitch, you get to miss our physics test’ from Jaemin. You were shivering under the layers of blankets and hoodies you were wearing, stirring awake every hour due to how cold or thirsty you felt, tossing and turning every now and then. You turned when you heard your bedroom door opening, wondering who it was considering both your parents were busy at work at this hour.

Your eyes widened to see Jaemin, a coat hanging over his arm as he closed the door, and a plastic bag filled with delicious warm soup that you could smell from a mile away. “I can’t believe you left me to suffer all alone in school, I swear you purposely didn’t listen to me because you didn’t want to do that boring test.” Jaemin whined, a pout evident on his lips.

“Nana!” you exclaimed in a giddish tone, making grabby hands at him. Jaemin chuckled as he walked closer to your bed, sitting on the corner of your bed beside you, leaning his back against the headboard. He lays his coat on the chair behind your study desk, putting the plastic bag of food on your lap when you sat up. “Eat up. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can hug you to death for leaving me today.” He jokes.

You smiled, opening the plastic container inside to smell the scrumptious soup inside. “Chicken noodle soup, your favourite.” he spoke in a soft tone, smiling lightly at you. You grinned, grabbing the plastic spoon that came with it. “What? No soda on the side?” you grinned cheekily, earning a soft pinch to your cheek by your best friend. “Don’t you dare make song references in front of me as if you didn’t listen to me bout dancing under the rain yesterday, look where it got you now.” he tuts, shaking his head in a motherly manner.

“Geez, sorry, mom.” you teased, beginning to consuming your soup. “You’re sweating a lot, that’s a good sign.” Jaemin pushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, the sudden action causing you to pause from your eating for a brief moment, before shrugging it off. “I’ll probably feel be back to normal in a day or two.” you shrugged, gulping down a spoon full of soup.

“You’re gonna need to change, take your hoodie off.” Jaemin exclaimed, pulling your almost finished soup away from you. You let out a loud, “huh?” in response, your eyes widening at his sudden statement, trying to see if he was joking but no, Jaemin was dead ass serious.

“Take your hoodie off.” Jaemin ordered. “Jaemin!” you exclaimed, pulling your blankets up to your chin, protecting yourself from him. “You’re not gona get any better with wet stinky clothes on you, Y/N.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, walking over to your closet to grab a really baggy shirt of yours, tossing the big fabric over your face. You sat up and pulled the shirt off of your face to see Jaemin strip the white hoodie he was wearing over his body.

Your eyes caught the black shirt he was wearing underneathe had tugged up along with his hoodie, exposing his toned stomach to prove the results of how much time he spent working out at the gym with Jeno recently. 

You squeaked at the action, looking away with a small blush tinting your cheeks. “Jaemin, what are you-” you flushed, taking the risk of looking at Jaemin again with a flustered expression to see your best friend standing in front of you with his white hoodie clutched in his hands. “Change your clothes, you’re gonna get even more sick if you lay there with wet clothes. You ran out of hoodies, use mine, instead.” he spoke sternly.

“Jaemin, I don’t think that that’s really necessary-” you let out a small squeak when Jaemin’s face came close to yours, his hand laying on your forehead and the other laying on his own. “You’re fever’s getting even worse. Change clothes and finish your soup while I get a warm towel ready, Y/n” He spoke, turning to leave your room, shutting the door behind him, unaware of how red your face must’ve been at the sudden contact.

You felt your heart beat increase at the actions that had happen before you, Jaemin’s hoodie resting on your lap, his strong cologne filling your senses, causing you to flush red even more as you tugged your wet sweaty clothes off and changed into the shirt and hoodie Jaemin picked out for you. You bit your lip when you could practically feel his scent engulf your whole being, your face becoming more red.

Did he always smell this nice?

The fresh smell of cinnamon and comfort was the only thing you could say to describe the indescribable scent of your best friend. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of constantly wearing his hoodie, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when Jaemin came into your room with a bucket filled with warm water and a towel in hand.

“Lay down, y/n” he ordered, sitting on the bed beside you as you sunk down on the bed, pulling your bed sheets up to your nose so he wouldn’t see how red your face is. Jaemin didn’t think much of it when he dipped the water in the warm water, squeezing the water out to leave the towel warm and soaked, laying the warm towel on your forehead.

“You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” you bit your lip, sighing at the contact of his fingertips grazing against your skin as he layed the towel gently on your forehead. “I know, but you’ll probably die here if I don’t,” he chuckles. dipping the towel again once it got cold, squeezing the water out before placing it back on your forehead. “Does that mean you care bout me, Na Jaemin?” you smirked. “That’s quite embarrassing.” you teased.

Jaemin rolled his eyes softly at you, pinching your cheeks before cooping your nose. “There’s nothing embarrassing for a guy to care for his girl.” he commented simply. It felt like an arrow of pure adoration had struck through your heart. Well, that comment backfired. Wait, what does he mean by ‘his girl’?

“I’m your girl?” you spoke after a moment of hesitation, feeling your heart race against your ribcage once again. Jaemin chuckled, flicking your forehead teasingly, “not like that, you cheeseball.” he grinned, booping your nose once again before removing the towel from your forehead.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be right here when you need me. That is, unless your parents kick me out for staying too long.” he giggles, carressing your hair with his calloused fingers. “They’ll never kick you out, you live literally next door, Nana.” you giggled, nuzzling against his touch. Jaemin chuckled, putting the towel into the bucket before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes widened at the sudden act of affection, causing Jaemin to grin shyly. “You just look adorable, right now.” he mumbles under his breath before standing up and walking towards the door. “Go to sleep! I’ll be watching TV if you need me!” Jaemin exclaimed before closing the door with a soft click.

I don’t know bout you, but you knew you couldn’t sleep after his sudden display of affection.

You didn’t even realize tears were slowly streaming down your face until you let out a soft sob, Renjun’s figure coming close to comfort you. You felt Renjun’s arm wrap around your back, his hand coming up to your head to lean it against his shoulder. You sniffled, trying to swallow the sob that’s waiting to erupt from your mouth.

It was like day one all over again, with you crying your eyes out and Renjun comforting you by your side with food and movies. You shut your eyes tight once you felt that familiar burning sensation on your wrist, your heart aching and stinging against your chest. Renjun noticed your pained expression, his hand quickly yet gently coming up to see your left wrist, his eyes widening at the sight. “I’ll get you an ice pack, okay?” Renjun asked worriedly, carressing your soulmate mark as if it would soothe the burning sensation.

You nodded, crying even more as Renjun quickly bolted out your room, his footsteps echoing down the halls. You sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away with your palms, but like an endless waterfall, it never stopped. Nor did the pain in your heart.

Renjun came back with a sympathetic expression plastered on his face, coming up to you and gently placing the frozen packet of peas he found in your freezer on your glowing red tattoo. Renjun softly shushing you and caressing the back of your hair, his own heart aching to see his best friend like this. He couldn’t count the many times you had cried to him bout Jaemin since the dinner with your parents.

The countless amount of times he would press a cold surface onto your left burning wrist.

The countless times you would rant how your heart was begging for Jaemin’s stupid presence.

The countless times he wanted to punch Jaemin for not showing a single ounce of guilt and for how oblivious the younger boy is to how much he had been inflicting your pain.

You fell asleep in Renjun’s hold, the pain on your wrist subsiding into a dull ache, your heart beat in your ears.

Jaemin practically dragged his bag on the floor as he entered the room. His mood decreasing as the seconds go by, his eyes dark with exhaustion and pain. Lately, he hasn’t been focusing properly on the tasks in front of him, his mind was always somewhere else when Coach was discussing strategies for next week’s game.

He was always spacing out to the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, his eyes setting on a certain object in the corner of the room he was in, his body freezing in place as his whole head was in a haze. He’s gotten a countless amount of scolding for spacing out in the middle of practice, the endless amount of times Coach would get a student to hold a volley ball from the storage closet, ready to hit him with whenever he spaces out during practice matches.

Today, he was on his breaking point, he recently failed his History test, then got another scolding from Coach. Hell, he was called to the office in the middle of class, the Coach’s heavy frown never bringing ease to his now tense figure. 

Jaemin collapsed on his bed with a soft thud, trying to keep his breath under control as his Coach’s words echoed in his head, his head buried into the soft fabric of his pillow. He tried to keep his mind from overthinking Coach Kim’s words adding into his stress.

“Na Jaemin, recently, I’ve become aware of how much you’ve been a little... distracted, lately. I’m sorry to say but as Captain of the whole team, you need to be on full focus for the game. If you can’t do that then I’m afraid someone else will.”

Jaemin gripped his pillow tightly, his breathing deepen as he tries to calm himself, his heart beat increasing. He squeezed his eyes tight, the look of disappointment in his team’s expression was all he could think bout for the rest of the day. His heart feeling heavy in his chest.

“I know, I know, this seems too far but, we can’t afford to lose the school winning streak all because of our captain spacing out because of who knows what! I know I sound delirious for saying this, but we can’t risk this.” 

Jaemin remembered the heavy feeling of promising his Coach that he will get his problems sorted out right away so it wouldn’t interfere in the way of winning the game. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if the endless hard work he puts into playing football the past two years went to waste when the position he trained so hard to earn was taken away just like that.

Jaemin sniffled, sitting up as he tries to shake those thoughts away. His eyes blurring slightly at his Coach’s words repeating themselves inside of his head. He stood up, stretching his arms out to release the tension in his muscles, as he tries to delve into a more positive state of mind. His eyes closing in concentration.

‘Don’t think so negatively, Jaemin. You can do this, just stay focused at the task at hand and worry bout this weird pain after the game.’

Jaemin unconsciously walked towards his window, an exhausted groan eliciting from his mouth. ‘You’ve got this !’ he thought with determination, calming his thoughts as a content smile stretched across his face. Jaemin opened his eyes slowly, his bunny smile immediately dissipated into a deep frown, his eyes widen slightly at the sight from the window across his.

You were with Renjun on your bed, doing what looks like cuddling in each other’s warm embrace. You were sitting in between Renjun’s legs, your back facing Jaemin, making him unable to see your expression. Your head was leaning against Renjun’s shoulder, his hand coming up to caress the back of your head. Jaemin’s eyes never left your figure being in such an intimate position with Renjun.

Jaemin felt his own blood boiling, his previously sour mood returning in an instant, his heart beating in his ears as his eyes stared daggers into Renjun’s head. He watched as Renjun’s eyes gaze contently to your figure laying comfortably on his, his fists clenching even more at the sight. That is, until Jaemin snapped out of it with a shake of his head. 

What was wrong with him?

Why was he feeling so angry bout seeing you cuddling with someone like that?

Yet again, when was the last time you cuddled him like that. Jaemin pulled his curtains to cover the sight across him, walking to the bed, running a hand through his hair. before leaning back to lay down on his mattress with his back facing his white sheets.

Jaemin sighed as he got lost in his own thoughts once again. When was the last time he cuddled you? Or held your hand? His head turned to the side, eyes scanning the picture frames he hung up on the walls of his room, stopping at the picture you took on your trip to Busan during winter back in 7th grade.

In the picture, you had Jaemin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. Your smile wide and your expression filled with laughter as Jaemin's happy one focused on the camera. Your eyes weren't on the camera, though, they were on him.

Cheeks and noses warm and red from the cold snow, clothes stained with the snow you played with to make snow angels and snowmen, your smile so wide, Jaemin could almost hear your bright laughter from the picture itself. As if he was reliving in that exact moment.

When did you stop smiling like that?

Jaemin realised he never noticed how forced your smiles became, how you use humor to mask every single emotion, how no matter how tired you are, you always manage to joke bout the littlest things to make him crack a smile.

"Why are you sad?" Jaemin asked as he drove you home one day, you glanced up at him with exhaustion glossing over your pupils, showing how pained you were for a split second, before you crack into a loving eye smile.

"I'm not sad, silly. I'm just tired of Mrs. Lee getting up in my ass yelling at my ear as if she was begging for my head to explode and have blood erupting out of my neck like a distorted volcano pms-ing." you joked, causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh.

"You have the weirdest thoughts, I swear." he shook his head, his eyes glancing at you for a split second before returning to the road. "You're not normal yourself, Nana. We're all clowns in this generation, don't act like its a weird thing." you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly.

Jaemin raised his brow at you, "me? A clown? You're practically born in a circus." he chuckled. "Says the person who says 'wow' every five seconds for the simplest of things. Post Malone basically wrote that song off of you, you should sue." you giggled, causing him to giggle.

"I am praying to God so that he could add at least add more braincells into that silly head of yours." Jaemin laughed. "God made me to be a clown, I must live on with my purpose, Nana." you added with a wink. "And a simp, too." you giggled.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at the memory, smiling at your terrible attempt at flirting. But his smile turned into a concerned expression once he remembers how pained your eyes looked at the time. As if you were holding pent up frustration, pain and emotion behind the humor.

Since when did you try to hide everything with humor? And when did he start to be one of those people who believed that you were okay behind that bright exterior? He was your soulmate for-

Wait, a second. Your soulmate? Why was he addressing himself like this? So what if he's your soulmate? It doesn't give him the right to barge into your personal problems. You didn't want to do anything with him after that dinner party, so why would he bother to think bout you when you were probably moving on with Renjun?

Jaemin licked his lips bitterly, his brows furrowed in frustration. A hand coming up to rub his face in distress, what was wrong with him these days?

Jaemin's thoughts went to how your body slumped weakly in Renjun's embrace, his eyes glancing down at your figure in a protective manner, his hand caressing your soft hair to soothe and comfort you. Jaemin knew how this would lull you to sleep in an instant, send you in a cuddly haze in people's arms.

Why did he know this?

Because he was the first one to experience it first hand, why should Renjun experience such an endearing moment? Why should Renjun see how vulnerable you are when it comes to-

Jaemin winced as the familiar pain in his chest resurfaced, his wrist aching again. He closed his eyes, 'not this again,' he thought to himself. Jaemin leaned over his drawer, his heart aching heavily against his chest as he opened the drawer to pull out a couple of pain killers

Tags: @lixseu @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @candiednickles @12am-musings @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta

Couldn't tag: @/uncovermenow666 @/cakelyn

[dragonroyaly]

So you've talked about this numbers thing in the tags before but I don't think you've ever explained it in depth? Care to tell more?

Ah! Never thought I’d actually get asked about that!

It’s a story I’m writing, I woke up a couple months ago with the idea that there are ten kids with the numbers One through Ten as names due to supernatural forces or something like that pretty much mind-controlling their parents to name them that.

I actually haven’t worked out much of the plot or anything, I wrote some of it after I had the idea and then I burned that candle out real quick and then I haven’t worked on it much since but I’ve still been coming up with ideas and such for it.

The Number Squad as I’m calling them all have powers becuase of course they do.

I’m putting the rest under a read more becuase this turned out a lot longer than I expected it to.

One has Water Manipulation,

Two has Air Manipulation, she’s based mainly off of my younger sister due to multiple reasons (Birthday being on 22, zodiac element being air, also Two and her look alike),

Three has Mind Reading,

Four has Mind Control, she‘s famous becuase she said so,

Five has Time Pausing,

Six has Shapeshifting, them and Five are twins,

Seven has Metal Manipulation, she’s the youngest out of all of them,

Eight has Electricity, she’s Seven’s best friend,

Nine has Invisibility, he’s the Mom Friend of the group and very shy,

and Ten has Blood and Bone control.

I’m not exactly sure which I came up with first, but the last one came from me asking the group chat for suggestions.

Additional characters are:

Emily, previously named Eleven due to the same reasons the other ten are named that way, except she changed her name to something normal to fit in better. She can tell the future.

Joshie, Three’s best friend. Due to a recent post I’ve seen he’s now going to be basically a modern-day Jesus. He does have powers but those are due to unrelated reasons to The Numbers Squad (One through Emily). Has a giant fucking crush on One. One also has a crush on him. Everyone knows this. Both of them know it. Neither will act on it becuase they’re disasters.

Elle, Emily’s girlfriend. I haven’t worked out much of her yet, but she’s transgender, she likes bright colors, and Emily’s endless support was the only thing that encouraged her to come out at all in the first place.

Gabriel, Elle’s older brother. Was originally a giant asshole but in light of recent events (Cough Cough Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Ten, and Emily threatening his life Cough Cough) he’s trying his best to do better. Is actually pretty nice but still generally un-trusted around them due to being an asshole being and Elle being more important to them.

Layla, One’s older sister. Not much to say about her, honestly. She tries her best at everything she does and still fails a lot. Tries out for cheer squad every chance she gets and hasn’t gotten accepted once. Good at managing other people but not herself. Very much a lesbian. Does not realize she’s a lesbian.

Deana, Two’s younger sister. She likes being spun around nd lifted up with Two’s powers.

Two has another sibling but they’re based on a group chat friend I have and I haven’t told them about this so I can’t actually say anything about them, sorry.

Two’s aunt Lilie. Constantly afraid Two is going to out herself to everyone else. She lives with Two and her mother and her siblings.

Five and Six’s sister Wendy. She likes pink and blue and purple and black and white stripes. She’s dyslexic.

Five and Six also have two more siblings, Arella and Callum. They’re three years older than them and they don’t do anything but stay at home.

Five and Six have six siblings, actually, but Arella, Callum, and Wendy are the only ones who have names right now.

Fay, Three and Joshie’s friend. She’s really quiet, sorta shy, and Three and Joshie are quite possibly her only friends. She likes reading and swimming.

Jacey, One and Layla’s neighbor. Has taken it upon himself to look after these kids while their parents aren’t home and while their parents are home if need be. He makes them lunch and drives them to school.

Red, has a reputation for being like the ‘Bad girl’ of the school but she’s like really really nice and she bakes treats for her friends and helps them with their problems and is a big mom friend. She had enough of her ex and expectations for her so she decided “Y’know fucking what? I’m move out of my house and get my own apartment and dye my hair and start wearing fucking punk clothes and get a tattoo and-” and then she ended up like this. She’s actually really happy like this too.

Nico, Red’s ex boyfriend. He means well but he is, in all honesty, an idiot. He wants to be Red’s friend again, Red wants nothing to do with him, he doesn’t understand that, Red won’t tell him to fuck off to his face, it just keeps going. He has purple streaks in his hair. This doesn’t really have anything to do with Red he just wanted purple streaks in his hair.

Amelia, Red’s girlfriend. You know that line between punk-goth and preppy? Amelia does gymnastics on that line. She likes the color purple a lot. She has told Nico fuck off to his face. He assumed this meant she didn’t like him so he tries to avoid her. She doesn’t like him all that much but it’s becuase Red doesn’t like him much.

Hera, one of the girls in Red’s gang. About what you’d expect from someone who shares a name with a major Greek goddess. Almost everyone else in her family was named after someone from Greek mythology. No one actually remembers what that’s about. She has tattoos all over her back. She is not legally supposed to have tattoos. Red’s the only one who knows where she got them and even that’s only vaguely. She breaks the law on a regular basis.

Hades, Hera’s twin sibling, also in Red’s gang. Yes the twins are aware their names don’t match up much. No they will not ask their parents what that’s about. No they do not care. Recognized as a non-binary icon throughout the school. Also what you’d expect from someone with their name. They have one single tattoo and it’s a matching one they got with Hera. They like to draw.

~

The bits of the story I already have figured out other than basic character backstories and identities is that they get thrown into the same school together.

They can’t use their powers on eachother (Kinda, One, Two, Seven, and Eight all have physical abilities and they don’t just disable when something being moved by the ability comes close to the others. Six, Nine, and Emily can’t use their powers on anyone else but themselves in the first place. Five can drag other people into paused time with some effort including the rest of The Number Squad.), so it was this realization of “I can’t read their thoughts???” from Three, “I can’t control them???” from Four, “I can touch them??? Without hurting them???” From Ten.

Three and Four ended up hating eachothers guts for a bit but also like Frenemies to Lovers trope is Good (I say frenemies and not straight up enemies becuase they were just sort of annoyed that their powers didn’t work on eachother because they relied on those Way Too Much. Also Three is like envious of Four becuase they don’t have parents or money and Four has loving parents and is rich becuase she said so).

Eight works at a cafe with her mother, and is Co Mom Friend of the group.

Eight has a bunch of scars everywhere and it’s obvious most weren’t caused by her. Seven is the only one who gets a backstory for this, and that’s becuase they’re Best Friends. This is also becuase I have not entirely worked out said backstory myself so until I do it’s a secret between Seven and Eight that not even I get to know.

Four’s really good at singing, at first Three thought that was just more mind control shit but after a while they just realized she’s really good at singing.

Five has insomnia and likes the cold. Has been found asleep on the roof before. Has been found violently zoned-out to the point of near unconsciousness but not quite there on the roof before. She’s on the roof a lot.

Six is genderfluid and has every genderqueer person’s dream of shapeshifting. Will change their hair to bright colors when even lightly emotionally troubled. They also have ADHD. I’m self projecting onto characters again. Then again Six was based after me. So was Five. And Two’s based off of my sister.

Six hangs out around Red and her friends a lot. They’re a nervous disaster and scared they aren’t fitting the right requirements becuase they don’t match the aesthetic. Red and Co’ points to Hera, who dresses mainly in gold and white. Six points out that that’s still different and bright and they just dress very plainly. Red and Co’ point out that they can fucking shapeshift. This happens one or twice a week.

Five does theater. She’s very good at it. Have exactly one minute to change costumes? Nah, she’s gonna sit down to breathe, go over her lines, get a snack, get another snack, realize she’s wasted about an hours time and that she should probably actually change and get on with the play soon, eats another snack, unpauses time in her new outfit and gets on with the play, repeats the next time she gets off stage and needs a break.

The entire theater club or whatever at the school is aware of her powers, so if she seems to teleport but differently, she paused time.

She also does this for tests and things. Pauses time, go gets the answers, comes back, aces the test. It’s a very useful power to have.

Seven has several bones replaced with metal replicas of them. She hurt herself and couldn’t move that part of herself anymore so she was like “Just put some metal in there it’ll work” and it did.

Seven messes up microwaves so fucking often and no one’s actually sure why. I mean it’s obvious her metal powers but beyond that.

Three and Joshie will often have conversations where Three’s the one talking and Joshie’s just thinking at them. Three has to pretend they’re on the phone.

Joshie is Tall and Very strong. He could pick up Three and Fay at the same time before. Actually, he has. Multiple times.

Please do not let this give you the illusion he actually looks very strong or threatening or anything he looks very soft both in personality and clothing choice.

Joshie picked One up once and that was the day One realized he had a crush on him.

“Layla he picked me up like I weighed nothing Layla I think I’m in love”

“One please calm down doesn’t he do that to everyone?”

“YEAH HE DOES LAYLA, WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING POINT?”

The school they go to is called ‘Meadow Creek’ becuase I wanted something generic and my brain spit generic at me.

Four days into the schoolyear Four throws a party. Drama happens. What drama, you may be asking? I dunno, that’s all I’ve gotten so far, there’s a party and Drama happens.

Oh actually I do know one thing, Five somehow ends up sitting in the chandelier. That was the day Four stopped wondering if it could actually hold someone’s weight.

That’s literally all I have for the story so far, like, I’m trying to scrape more stuff off the top of my head, but there’s nothing. I’ve used it all up. That’s all I have for Numbers and Co’ right now.

I still haven’t decided what to call the story, right now the document is called ‘Ten’ because guess why, but also I don’t want it to seem like it’s all about Ten herself becuase they’re all the main characters.

‘Count to Ten’ maybe? I’m just sticking with calling it ‘Numbers’ for now though.