#HELL YEAH I GOT TIGER

[diadotcom]

big nerd flies in little plane

[bookiedoodles]

Hoshi stans are so well fucking fed, it just dawned on me how lucky y’all are. This dude is CONSTANTLY putting out singles, 2 of which have choreography videos up on Studio Choom. He’s apart of THREE subunits!!! Most of the members are only apart of their assigned one unit and this man is in THREE DIFFERENT UNITS!!! And this dude is so god damn funny (and dumb as hell) that so SO MANY going seventeen episodes have him somehow someway in the spotlight.

Hoshi stans are the luckiest motherfuckers and I’m so happy y’all get fed so well

[emphistic]

Boyfriend!Sukuna's up to no good, you can just feel it. After being with Sukuna for years since high school, it's safe to say your very reliable, very credible "Boyfriend is Being Bad" senses are tingling. And they're tingling worse than ever.

It's utterly ridiculous. You've been sitting on the couch for hours, and have already completely finished a season of your favorite show. Yuuji's whining about having his brother tuck him into bed, and you have run out of coffee. It's past evening, and Sukuna is literally nowhere to be found.

"When's Brother coming home?" mumbled Yuuji for the umpteenth time. He was curled up on your lap, pressing his chubby cheeks to your sweater, and yawning like he worked a 9-5 and paid the bills.

"In a little bit, Yuu, just be patient and wait, 'mkay?"

"Hmph!" The boy crossed his arms over his chest and gave quite the intimidating pout. "I be patient! And still no 'Kuna! Does he not love us anymore—?"

There was the screeching of tires pulling up to the house, the sound of someone running full speed to the door, and keys jingling with desperation, all before the door was opened, slammed closed, and lo and behold: Sukuna—in all his glory. (He looked like shit.)

"What the hell—" You cleared your throat, cautious of what to say in front of someone as young as Yuuji. "Where have you been?"

Sukuna was panting, drenched in sweat, and his hair was a mess. "I'm . . . I was . . . I was getting a cat for Yuuji and you; y'know, because you two were nagging me about it all week after we watched the Lion King?"

Despite his brother's current disheveled state, Yuuji wasted no time in scurrying off your lap, running as fast as his little legs could carry him, and jumping onto his brother's leg and attaching himself there like a monkey or something. "Yay! Brother! Brother home!"

You eyed Sukuna warily, fully taking in his appearance. "So, where's the cat? And, last time I checked, you don't have to run ten miles in order to purchase one; you look like you just did a whole work out."

"If you count running from the police as a work out, then, yeah. . ."

"The police? Do they run a special kind of pet store or something?"

"Not exactly," Sukuna winced, as the sound of sirens blaring began. "So, just making sure, you love me, right?"

". . ."

"Ah, I may or may not have tried to pick up a tiger from the local zoo, and turns out, that is not very legal."

"You're . . . joking."

"The tiger, uh, jumped out of the window while I was on my way home. . . And I'm pretty sure the police are looking for it and me, but don't worry, I've been in run-ins with the law before. They've got nothing on me, babe—"

"You're trying to tell me that your concern is the police? WHEN THERE'S A TIGER ROAMING THE STREETS? OF OUR NEIGHBORHOOD?"

"Hey, there's a good part to this." Sukuna raised his hands in defense. "I made Christmas come early, y'know. You two have been begging for a pet."

"A PET! NOT A WILD CAT THAT YOU STOLE!"

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[teeramoonlover]

Knock, Knock

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher

(NSFW)

This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.

Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.

*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.

“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.

“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”

“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.

The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.

“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”

You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.

“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.

“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 

“Uhh, yeah.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.

“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”

“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  

“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”

“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.

The stranger hummed.

Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?

“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”

“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 

He chuckled darkly.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.

The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”

“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.

“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”

You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.

Shit. Wrong move.

You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.

“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”

“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”

You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.

“Knock. Knock.”

You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.

“Who’s there?”

You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  

Double. Shit.

“Johnny.” 

You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 

“Johnny where?”

“Clever girl. Guess.”

You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.

“The backyard.”

“Wrong.”

You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 

He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.

“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”

“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”

“I want you…to ride me.”

You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 

“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.

“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.

Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.

“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 

“Behind you.”

You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.

His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 

He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.

“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”

Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 

There’s two of them?!

You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 

The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.

You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 

A warning.

“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.

“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.

“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.

“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 

“So what? You gonna kill me?” 

“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.

You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    

Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.

"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 

Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.

"What do you mean?" You shuddered.

In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.

"You know what I meant."

Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?

You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.

You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 

“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 

You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.

“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.

“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.

“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.

Without thinking, you nodded at his words.

Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 

"Lift your hips for me, baby." 

He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 

He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.

A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.

"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.

"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.

You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.

As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.

Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.

"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 

You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.

You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.

He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.

"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.

"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 

He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.

You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.

"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 

You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.

You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.

"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.

"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.

"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."

The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 

"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"

"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."

"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"

"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 

They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.

You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 

Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.

"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.

"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.

Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.

The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.

You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.

"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.

"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.

As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.

"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.

"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 

"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 

As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.

"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.

"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."

You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 

This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.

Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 

You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 

He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.

His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.

You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.

The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.

“That’s my good girl.”

After you pass out…

“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.

“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.

“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.

Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.

And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.

[apocalypseornaw]

Not Just Dreams

Sam Winchester x Reader

Or maybe it's not just dreams

NSFW happenings

You hummed along to the radio as you cut up the strawberries you'd gotten at the farmer's market a few days before. The fact that Sam hadn't gone with you was still bothering you but hell the three of you lived together, worked together, all of you were due some time to yourself when needed but no matter how much you tried to ignore it you knew it wasn't just that. Sam had been pulling away from you for weeks and you had no idea why.

You heard footsteps behind you and thought for just a minute it may be Sam but your hope was squashed when Dean's hand slipped around you to snatch a few strawberries out of your bowl "Y/N, you seen Sammy?" You shrugged, trying not to seem like something was bothering you "He barely talks to me these days"

You turned to face him and saw the little wrinkle that popped up between his eyebrows when he was thinking hard. "You finally noticed that huh?" You let out a sigh, that meant it wasn't just you. Sam was indeed purposely ignoring you. You nodded, eyeing him carefully "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?"

He shrugged "No clue sweetheart but I'll try to figure him out. We got a hunt so after you eat, get dressed and we'll hit the road. I'm gonna go wake see if he's still asleep or gone on a run" you nodded, watching Dean walk out before you grabbed your strawberries and a bottle of water and headed to your room.

You were everywhere, your scent surrounding him and the taste of your skin heavy on his tongue. "Sam" the whispered gasp of his name from your lips pushed him further towards that edge. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your top half was laid back against the counter of the kitchen, breasts on full display for his large hands to tease and grip. How it'd gone from making breakfast to him being buried inside of you he couldn't remember and didn't care. You were perfect to him, every damn inch, every little sound you made was music to his ears. "Fuck Sam, that feels so damn good" you cried, clenching around him.

"Sam!" Dean's deep voice mixed with his hand gripping Sam's shoulder had him jolting awake in the impala. Dean chuckled "Easy tiger. Don't think you wanna wake Y/N up"

Sam followed Dean's eyes to the backseat where you lay, peacefully asleep curled up under Dean's jacket. He nodded slowly,rubbing a hand across his face. "What was that dream about anyways man? You were making some noises"

Sam cut his eyes at his older brother who wore a smirk "Shut up Dean" the answer was Dean's laughter filling the car. You started to stir so Sam punched Dean's arm "You're gonna wake her up!"

Dean held up a hand, his laughter dying down "Sorry but man if you're having sex dreams you need to get laid" Sam rolled his eyes "I'm not having this conversation with you"

Dean shrugged "Fine. Your dream woman at least sounds like shes amazing" Sam's eyes barely flicked back towards your sleeping form but just enough that Dean caught the movement but chose not to say anything, a plan forming in his head as he drove to force the two of you to admit the feelings he knew you both had. "She is" Sam admitted in barely a whisper before laying his head back against the seat again.

The hunt had gone easily enough. A small nest was easily put down with no injuries on any of you, so you counted that as a win. The only thing that was left was to find a hotel to crash for a few hours before heading back home.

Dean pulled into the Golden Dove Inn. You groaned at the name but it looked clean enough. He parked near the office and cut his eyes from Sam to you "I'll be right back" when he disappeared inside Sam turned to look back at you "Your shoulder ok?" You nodded considering this was the most Sam had willingly spoken to you "Yeah. The ibuprofen helped so I know it wasn't anything serious" he nodded "Good"

Before you could say anything else Dean walked back out, carrying keys and a grin. When he climbed in the car he announced "You two can share right? I'm headed to that bar down the road and want the option for a little company"

You remained quiet, waiting for Sam's answer which came with him shooting daggers at his brother with his glare before saying "Yeah. That's fine"

After an awkward dinner of silence and Chinese food Dean headed to the bar so you claimed the first shower.

When you walked out the bathroom Sam walked into it without a word. You had no clue what you'd done to fuck up your friendship with him but it was weighing heavy on your heart. He was your best friend and you missed him. Hell he was more than that in your heart if you were being honest but you'd long since decided being his friend was better than risking losing him by admitting anything but now it seemed you were losing him anyways.

A part of you wanted to stay up, push him for answers as to what was wrong but you knew him too well to think that would work. He had to deal wth whatever was plaguing his mind on his own, you just wish you had some idea as to what part you had played in it.

----------------

Sam hesitaed when he stepped out the bathroom. A part of him hoped you were still awake but he honestly had no idea any more how to be around you without letting the memories of the dreams drift into his head. He'd had feelings for you for so long but he'd thought they were buried or had hoped for the sake of your friendship.

Instead he was met with the sight of you curled up on your side, hugging a pillow to you and fast asleep. Christ, you were beautiful. It made his heart ache.

He tossed his dirty clothes next to his duffle bag, praying for a dreamless night as he laid across his own bed.

You weren't sure what had woke you up but two things hit you the moment consciousness rushed back to you. One was that the room was hot, the next was Sam was muttering in his sleep.

You kicked the blanket off your legs and called his name, when you got no response you climbed out the bed to walk over to him but froze when you heard your name. Was he dreaming about you?

It felt wrong to listen but you were too curious as to what had gone wrong between the two of you to care. You paused next to his bed and your eyes widened when he rutted his hips against the bed and muttered "Fuck you feel so good" Sam was having a sex dream...about you.

-----------

He started to stir so you practically dove back into your bed hoping he hadn't realized you were fully awake. He sat up slowly and called your name so you acted like you were just waking up "Yeah?" when you sat up to look at him his cheeks were rosy and it took every ounce of self control you had to not glance down at his crotch.

"Is it hot in here?" "Very" you breathed hoping your voice didn't betray your thoughts.

Sam stood out of the bed and walked over to the small unit in the wall. He clicked a few buttons then smacked the side of it, "It's dead"

"Fuck" you growled, watching him turn up the ceiling fan with an apologetic smile. "Bet Dean's air works" you muttered before kicking the blanket completely off the bed, much to Sam's amusement.

He shook his head but grinned "Do you mind if I take my shirt off?" You shook your head "Naw cause you're about to get a strip show Winchester. I can't sleep in the heat"

----------

When he slipped the shirt over his head you found yourself watching the muscles in his arms flex. Damn he was gorgeous. He smoothed his hair back out his face then cut his eyes at you "Feel free to get comfortable. I'll even face the wall if need be"

You shrugged before slipping your t-shirt off considering you'd put a soft sports bra on under it just in case then slipped your shorts off your legs leaving you in the bra and a pair of black panties "You and Dean both have seen me stripped when I've gotten hurt. Hell modesty could kill in this line of work"

-----------

Sam tried to ignore how his cock twitched in the sweatpants he wore or how the comment about Dean seeing you stripped licked up a flame of jealousy in him. Fuck he wouldn't be getting any sleep with you wearing so little.

He took a deep breath then went back to his bed. He'd just laid down when you called his name. He turned to face you and you were mimicking his posture, both of you propping your head up on one arm to face each other "Are you mad at me?" He shook his head "Of course not"

"You barely talk to me anymore. Even now I feel like it's a struggle for you to meet my eyes" "No one could blame me for being distracted with you wearing what you're wearing" he blurted out, the shock on his face mirroring your own "What?"

---------

He groaned and pushed himself to be fully sitting up "We need to talk but can you promise first to not kick my ass?" You nodded, climbing out of your bed and walking towards his "You van tell me anything Sam"

The fact that he'd dreamt of you in a very similar circumstance didn't miss Sam as he stared at you. Your eyes were full of concern and it made his heart ache. He wanted you to feel the same, wanted to make every dream he'd had reality but the fear of losing you was overwhelming. "I've been having dreams about you" he admitted.

"Dreams?" You asked stepping closer and he swallowed hard "Yeah" your heart was beating wildly. Did he feel the same? Did he want you the way you wanted him?

-----------

"Sam, what kind of dreams?" You asked,stopping just shy of the bed to brush his hair back from his eyes. "Y/N we both know what kind of dreams"

You moved your hand down his face, smiling when his eyes fluttered shut for a moment before your fingers caught his chin, making him look at you. When his eyes met yours you saw the uncertainty there mixed with a need you felt in yourself "Sam, do you want to kiss me?"

He swallowed hard "More than anything and I just don't want one night. I want all of you for as long as you'll have me" you felt a smile split your face "Then claim what's already yours Sammy" you whispered and the moment the words left your mouth you saw an instant change in his demeanor. The uncertainty was gone.

"What's mine?" He echoed so you nodded, slowly climbing into the bed to straddle his waist "Claim what's yours" you repeated. The look in his eyes made you clench around nothing. He looked like he wanted to devour you and to say you were willing was the understatement of the century.

He gripped your hips roughly and turned, flipping you so your back was against the bed "Yes ma'am" he spoke against your lips before pulling you into a hungry kiss.

Sam moved from your lips down across your jaw to your neck. You gasped when he bit down on your pulse point then soothed the area with gentle kisses "Lay back baby, let me take my time" he whispered as his lips moved further down. You whimpered when his large hand cupped your breast through the thin bra "Can I take this off?" You nodded "Please"

You leaned up so he could slip it over your head. Once you were bare to him he froze, letting his eyes take in you bare under him "I'm awake, aren't I?" He asked lightly and you laughed, slipping your hand under the waistband of his sweats to grip his hard cock, lazily stroking it "That feel real?" He swallowed hard and nodded "Very" you grinned "Good. Now show me what those dreams were all about"

--------------

You were on your stomach, pillows under you to angle your hips just right as Sam rutted into you. Every thrust of his hips had you seeing stars as you felt his lips tease your bare shoulders, teeth lightly grazing the most sensitive skin "Fuck Sam. You're so fucking big, feels so damn good." You were barely coherent from the amount of orgasms he'd wrung out of you between his fingers, tongue and now his cock. He growled as he shifted to bury himself even further inside of you with each snap of his hips "Baby, you're so perfecting perfect, taking me so good. My good girl" he pulled your head back to catch your lips in a messy kiss, his hips never faltering their rhythm.

When you snatched away in need of air he chuckled. "You're so fucking gorgeous, all fucked out like this. Might want to keep you in bed, spread out for me" you'd never known Sam was such a dirty talker or that it'd be such a turn on. "Sam please I can't take much more" he kissed your neck gently "One more baby. Give me one more then I'll fill this pretty little pussy up and let you rest"

You whimpered but nodded. He slipped a hand under you and when his fingers found your clit your hips started to move back to meet his thrusts, needing to meet him on that high and ride it together. "You want to come with me huh?" You asked and you nodded "So damn sweet for me" he cooed, pushing your shoudlers down "Play with your clit for me sweetheart"

You slipped your hand under you, teasing your clit while he sat a punishing pace. You would be hoarse tomorrow from screaming his name but you could've cared less. You felt that pleasure building inside of you at the same time his hips started to falter. "Just like that Sam. Oh fuck" you moaned as the pleasure burst.

He buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust, his release coating the walls of your pussy. He stilled then, hands massaging your shoulders and leaving light kisses "You ok Y/N?" He asked, voice full of worry. You laughed, turning your head to look at him "I think I love you Sam" he laughed lightly "Good because I know I love you"

@kindacher @janineb86

[v-hope]

glad you’re missing TF bc me too, i wanna see them finally settling and knowing they’re ready for the next big step in their lives or even just discussing building a family after grad or when they’re at a good stage in their careers🥺🤧

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader

genre: slight angst, flufffff, established relationship, non-idol au

warnings: pregnancy scare, mentions of condoms, mentions of unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: um. hello after years lolll. i started going through very old requests in my ask box yesterday in case i found anything that’d bring some inspiration to my very uninspired self, and i found manyyyy tiger flower ones and this one in particular reminded me of a headcanon of mine that i never wrote nor mentioned (i think) but for some reason it was??? an actual Thing???? in my mind????? so yeah lol here i am. i don’t think anyone even cares about tiger flower (minus one person. u know who u are<3) anymore, BUT fuck it, i missed them and enjoyed writing this. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it too, bye<333

A pregnancy scare wasn’t something you were expecting only two months into moving in together after your graduation. It wasn’t something you were expecting at all.

At most, you and Jeongguk had agreed on getting a puppy as a new addition to your family of two. Said discussion happened when the two of you had only been together for a few months, a little over a year ago, where you both agreed on moving in together after you graduated college and then get a puppy right away.

Moving in together was not up for debate — you knew so the moment Jeongguk got a job in the last year of college and so did you, saving enough money to get a decent place and looking for apartments throughout the entire year, so you could secure a lease as soon as your previous ones ended. On the other hand, although you were still excited as hell to get a dog, once you were settled in your shared place, you were both too busy and overwhelmed trying to keep up with your new jobs and all the new changes in your lives to even think of adding another responsibility on top of them all, let alone one that had to do with a living creature.

If neither of you felt ready to get a puppy yet, how the hell were you supposed to raise a child?

Your heart beat so fast against your chest, you felt like you would pass out any moment, as you paced around the bathroom while you waited for the pregnancy test to tell you whether you’d bring another human being to the world in nine more months or not. Endless thoughts running through your mind as you did so, and you internally cursed at yourself for not having waited outside with Jeongguk instead — God knows you needed his arms around you to bring you comfort.

You definitely needed Jeongguk to hold you, you realised the second the alarm you set as soon as you took the test finally went off, managing to somehow turn it off with your shaky hands, and fighting not to drop your phone as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before taking a look to the test on the sink.

Once you earned enough courage to finally open your eyes and focus them on it, you exhaled all the air you didn’t know you were holding up until then — instant relief washing through your body.

Negative.

You were given another chance not to raise a child when neither of you were ready.

And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, empty even, now that said possibility was out of the way.

Although it was not the right time, a family with Jeongguk was something you’d always be happy about — and something you were only now realising you longed for way more than you thought you did.

Coming out of the bathroom and meeting a very distressed Jeongguk waiting right outside the door, you shook your head no right away, just like that letting him know you were on the clear this time around.

He let out a heavy, shaky sigh, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he processed the news, before he pulled you into his arms like you so badly needed him to — melting into his familiar touch and inhaling his scent as you felt yourself begin to calm down.

He said nothing, you said nothing. Your arms around one another and feeling each other’s comfort were all you needed right then.

Jeongguk didn’t let go until he felt your body stop trembling, only pulling away enough to rest his forehead on yours and cup your face in his warm hands.

“You okay?” He wondered; for a change, not being able to tell what the expression on your face meant right then.

He genuinely didn’t know whether you were relieved or not. And, therefore, he didn’t know how to react to the news. Yes, he had sighed in relief a minute ago, but that was as much as he’d let himself express until he knew how you felt about the whole situation.

You nodded, still a little bit stunned — not knowing whether you should say what was on your mind. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one in front of you, holding you. You knew you could tell him anything and he would understand, or at least try his best to do so.

“Is it wrong that I feel a little bit disappointed?” You finally mumbled, catching his attention. “I mean, I know we’re not ready, and we haven’t planned it at all and I would be so fucking terrified had it turned out positive, but, I just…”

“I get it,” he stepped up when he realised you wouldn’t talk anymore, gently reaching for your hands and holding them in his. “Of course I’m relieved we’re not having a baby right now, but… a part of me really wants to start a family with you now”.

“Now?” You playfully raised an eyebrow.

“Not now,” he panicked. “But, I mean, in the near future, but not that nea—ugh, you get it”.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle, biting your lip when he rested his head on your shoulder, embarrassedly hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know,” you reassured him, running your thumb on the back of his hand. “I can’t wait to start a family with you either. It’d be cute, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded — one hundred percent on board with it, yet pensively.

Up until that day, you hadn’t really discussed your future together. It was more of a given. Unspoken, but you both knew you wanted everything with each other. From moving in together, to getting married, to having kids, to growing old together.

Maybe it was finally time for you to actually bring those thoughts up.

“What do you think is a good age for us to start trying?” Jeongguk wondered, his voice gentle as ever.

You puckered your lips as you pondered your options. “I mean, we’re only twenty three this year… Maybe in another two or three more?”

“Yeah…” he quietly agreed. “We still need to get the hang of living together on our own…”

“Getting a puppy…” you added.

“Save some money” Jeongguk considered.

“Get a bigger place”.

“Get married”.

You smiled at his addition, feeling the by now very familiar butterflies fill your stomach. Reaching your hand up to cup his cheek, you sweetly ran your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna marry me?”

“I am marrying you, Y/N” he confidently stated, only to feel his cheeks burn the next second when he caught the way your eyes lit up. “I mean, if you’ll take me, of course…”

You giggled once again, this time throwing your head slightly back as you rejoiced at the new bit of information your boyfriend had just provided you with. “I am marrying you so hard one day, Jeon Jeongguk”.

He beamed, giggling against your mouth as he searched for it and trapped your bottom lip in between his smiling ones.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh of your own, wrapping your arms around his neck when he held you up by your thighs and took you to the sofa only a few steps away in your living room — not letting go of you for a second as he carefully lied on his back with you on top of him.

Lying your face comfortably on his chest, and running your fingertips up and down on it, you let out a contented sigh.

“So, kids sometime after we’re twenty six?” You returned to your previous conversation, before you got carried away by your desire to spend the rest of your lives together.

He hummed in response. “We should already have achieved all our previous goals by then, so I think it’s the most reasonable”.

“After twenty six it is then” you settled, smiling brightly when he reached for your hand and interlaced your fingers. “How many would you like?”

“Two or three would be nice,” Jeongguk confessed. “I’m okay with as many as you’re willing to have, though”.

“I always thought two… a girl and a boy” you admitted, feeling him smile against your head. “But I wouldn’t mind having three of them with you” a smile curved up your lips at the simple thought.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Two girls and a boy, or two boys and a girl…”

“What if it’s three girls?” You looked up at him.

“That’d be nice” he smiled.

“And if it’s three boys?”

“That’d be nice, too”.

“Mhm…” you squinted your eyes, suspiciously staring into his. “You want at least one girl so bad, Jeon Jeongguk”.

“I didn’t say that?” He defended himself.

“I can see it in your eyes” you playfully poked his forehead.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, tightening his hold on your hand to stop you from poking him again. “Well, sue me for wanting a mini version of you”.

Your heart melted, and you were pouting before you knew it. “I want a mini bun, too”.

“Too bad, we’re only having three girls now” he teased.

“Shut up,” you whined, slumping your face back down on his chest. “You just created a new need for me”.

Jeongguk’s chest trembled as a blissful laugh escaped his lips, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you so close to him you almost found it hard to breathe. You would never complain about it, though, let alone when his lips began to pepper kiss after kiss on the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he said. “And honestly I’ll be happy with whatever sex they are as long as they’re ours and we raise them together”.

His words brought tears to your eyes and a lump in your throat, being apparently still too sensitive over the whole situation not to feel like crying when he said the most reassuring words you needed to hear.

“You’re gonna make me cry” you let him know, looking up to meet his doe eyes once more. “But I’ll be the happiest as long as that’s the case, too”.

Jeongguk smiled timidly, gently pushing your chin slightly up for your lips to come in contact with his; pressing a soft kiss on them before his arms were once again tightening their hold around your waist.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, nuzzling your hair.

“What for?” You questioned.

Jeongguk shrugged, fingers drawing small circles on your back. “For putting you through this…”

You chuckled, burying your face in his neck. “It takes two to make a child, bunny. Which we didn’t get to make, by the way”.

“I know,” he pouted, holding you somehow tighter against his body. “But last time I was too horny to go get a condom”.

You snorted. “Nothing we haven’t done before. We just tested our luck for the hundredth time and it backfired on us for once”.

Although you weren’t looking at him right then, you knew a pout had just formed on his bottom lip. You tenderly kissed his chest, in hopes of making the sad look on his pretty face go away.

When you felt him be distraught still, you decided to switch the mood a little bit.

“Still, I did have the scare of my life, so we’re going on a sex strike for a bit”.

His mouth fell open in disbelief, pulling you up by your shoulders so he could look you in the eye. “You’re not serious”.

“I am” you stated, trying your best not to allow your lips to break into a smile. “One month at least”.

“At least?!”

“Aren’t you the one who went twenty one whole years without having sex?” You raised a teasing eyebrow. “This should be nothing to you”.

“Petal…” he whined, hiding his face in your neck. “It’s not the same now”.

“Why not?”

“Because I got a taste of it with you two years ago and I can’t control myself around you now, you know it”.

“Sucks to be you” you shrugged. “One month starting today”.

Letting out a defeated cry that could only have you finally releasing the laugh you managed to hold for so long, he rested his head back against the couch.

“Can this month end already”.

“So you’re just accepting your fate?” You were the one in disbelief now. “You won’t even try to convince me otherwise?”

“No, it’s up to you” he said, closing his eyes as he threw an arm over them. “If you don’t want me to touch you then I’ll just keep my hands to myself and suffer in silence”.

You half cooed, half laughed, not having expected such a touching answer to your playful question. Then again, it was Jeongguk the one you were dating; you should know better by now.

Removing his arm from his face, you pressed a brief kiss on his nose. “I love you, bun” you ran your fingers through his hair. “As if I’d be able to go a whole month without jumping your bones”.

“Now don’t say it like that” he laughed, throwing one of his legs over your body and making you lie on your sides now.

Properly face to face now, you cupped his cheek and gently caressed it as you rested your forehead on his. “Give me two weeks tops to shake the fear off my body?”

He nodded, lovingly bumping his nose on yours. “As long as you need me to”.

[cherrybr4t]

hoshi as your boyfriend (+18)

(sfw + nsfw)

warnings: first half is all FLUFF <3 nsfw part included too! dancer!hoshi, dancer!reader, fem reader, unprotected sex 😔, public sex, creampie, mirror sex, orgasm denial + edging, they r in luv! <3

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s the school’s infamous dance captain, while you’re a member of the dance club. that’s how the both of you met.

boyfriend!soonyoung who was known to be a dynamic ball of energy, but with you — he was so shy initially. thought you were too pretty to approach, thought you looked out of reach. took him a while to be able to be friends with you.

boyfriend!soonyoung finally had the balls to confess to you after working on a dance project with you for 2 months. impulsive 2am thoughts and a slip of the tongue while the both of you were slurping down cup noodles after practice.

“—so yeah jihoon wouldn’t stop making fun of me, especially about my crush on you and—”

“what?”

“…what did i say?”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s superrr clingy. even if it’s a separate practice session for team projects within the dance club, he’s gonna be at yours. sitting at the back, the front, beside the mirrors — wherever. (and it makes the juniors/other members nervous as HELL)

boyfriend!soonyoung who gets pouty when you tell him not to show up all the time — “it intimidates the rest!” but he promises to not be noticed the next time; cue him going to your next practice in a ball cap and mask, sitting at the back corner.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always willing to help and guide you patiently. (though he is always impatient and scary with the other team members) with you though — he can never lose his temper at you. every mistake you make causes him to giggle like you’re the cutest thing ever.

“you’re so cute baby,”

you pout “i’m sorry baby… i can’t seem to get this even though i’ve done it like - 20 times.”

“it’s okay baby, you’re doing so well. doing better than dino even.”

you tilt your head…”that’s impossible”

“i’ll happily watch you practice it a 100 times angel,”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s your biggest supporter. he’s your biggest fan. after every performance, he never fails to gift you the biggest & most dramatic bouquet of flowers with a little tiger plushie in the middle. with the longest heartfelt letter sealed in a tiger print envelope.

boyfriend!soonyoung who feels so lucky to have you. because if you think he’s dramatic? you’re even MORE dramatic. customised tiger gifts for him, an even bigger bouquet of flowers for him, and the cutest love letter he has pinned on his board at home.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always your biggest defender. anytime he hears people talking shit about you — he’s immediate to thrash things out with them. always reminds people how hardworking you are, and loves to talk about you to everyone he knows.

“she’s the prettiest, kindest, purest soul i’ve ever met. and have you seen her dance? swear she’s better than me.”

“she’s the best. i don’t know how i got so lucky to love someone like her.”

boyfriend!soonyoung who loves using not only words of affirmation, he loves his quality time with you, he loves feeling your touch all the time, and he’s the best at acts of service.

“i love you baby. i’ll never get tired of telling you how amazing you are. i’m so happy we got to exist in the same universe timeline, like—” *him rambling and getting distracted by the theories about different universe timelines*

*him always planning the most thought out dates — full day itinerary; at the zoo, pottery dates, etc. but he loves spending his down time with you too — sitting at home, putting on animal print face masks together, doing feet baths together.*

he always needs to hold your hand — doesn’t want to lose you in the crowd (though the crowd on tuesdays at the mall seems to be…bleak). hugs with him lasts at least 10 minutes at a time, and naps with him end up with him hugging you like a koala bear on a tree.

hungry at 2am? he’s at your door within 15 with your favourite late night snack. on your period? he’s got a full care pack covered. late for class? he’s already sitting in your lecture hall; attendance marked for you, taking down notes for you.

nsfw version here!

boyfriend!soonyoung who found out he had a thing for exhibitionism one night while the both of you were practicing late in the dance studio.

you were practicing your moves, concentration at a 100% while looking at yourself in the mirror. and he couldn’t help but feel a little turned out by how hard you were dancing. sweaty, flushed and so so pretty.

the song switches — and you snap your head towards soonyoung. he walks towards you in beat with the sensual song, before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“follow my guide baby,” he sways, holding onto you so tight. he traces your arms, interlocking both hands with you — flowing with the music while his eyes never left yours in the mirror.

“you’re so sexy baby. love the way you move,” he breathes down your neck, eyes shutting for less than a second before he focuses on you again.

you hum, hips moving against his crotch as you feel yourself get heated up as the song progresses. “learned it all from you baby,” your giggle snaps him out of his deep reverie.

“getting bold now are we?”

boyfriend!soonyoung loves how you’re always down to explore new boundaries with him. he knows the deep trust goes both ways, and he’s grateful.

boyfriend!soonyoung loves when you get all needy for him. it’s usually him being all clingy and like a baby when it comes to you. you’re his safe space. so when he sees you being all wide eyed and desperate for him — it turns him on to no end.

he’s a menace. when it comes to fucking you, he’s double the menace. gets off on you being his needy little angel. no one would ever guess what goes on behind closed doors when it comes to him.

he’s edged you for the past 30 minutes, your juices tainting the dance floor that’s only seen blood sweat and tears of the dancers. his smile is sinister, is relishing in the fact that he’s holding the key to your heaven gates at the moment.

loves to have you in front of him sitting right in front of the mirror. the big and wide mirror capturing the indecent act. your legs wide open for him as his fingers alternate between rubbing messily and harshly on your clit, and plunging deep into your his cunt.

wants you to come undone on his fingers and torture alone.

but he’s selfish, only wants to achieve what he’d set to do so earlier. and it’s for you to cum on his cock. he sits on the floor with his pretty cock out in the open, and has you in the same position, except now you’re sitting on his cock — deep inside you. all still facing the mirror where his gaze is locked on every move you make.

“that’s it baby, ride my cock like you fucking mean it yeah?”

“training you to have strong legs baby, you need them to continue to dance amazingly right?”

you cry out at the overstimulation, you want nothing but to cum. every hit his cock makes chokes you and you don’t recognise the girl in the mirror anymore — so wrecked on your boyfriend’s cock.

“tell me what you need pretty girl,” soonyoung teases as he leans back on his hands, enjoying the view in the mirror, hiding how fucked out he feels. how he is so close to cumming right inside of you this very moment. but he’s holding back. he’s got better control than that anyways.

“need to—need to cum nowww soonie, please baby,” tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you continue to ride him, pace faltering as you feel your legs getting tired.

“if you can cum like that, be my guest baby. cum.” he shrugs, and you notice the glint in his devilish gaze through the mirror. you groan, legs giving out on you and you resort to grinding slowly.

“need you to—need you to help me,” you pout, if acting cute won’t get you what you want, you don’t know what else to try.

“baby needs my help? can’t cum on her own? aw baby.” he pouts back at you, and you want so badly to snap at him at his tone but you know better than to do so.

“on your knees, face the mirror. won’t tell you twice.” and all energy resurfaces as you scurry to go on all fours, looking at how desperate you appear through the mirror — your reflection mocking you.

soonyoung grunts in approval. slides his cock right back into you, and thanks the heavens for you. for being able to take you like this. swears you look like an angel even being so fucked out on the dance floor, back being blown out.

“so fucking pretty like this baby, how do you always look so fucking beautiful,” he snaps his hips so deep into you with a certain tempo, and you feel like you’re ascending to heaven each time he fucks his cock into you.

his fingers reach forward to smack your puffy clit, using the tip of his fingers to rub messily, finally deciding to let his angel cum.

“c-can’t—gonna cum—i’m gonna cum gonna cum” you cry out with a hoarse throat with actual tears running down your flushed cheeks this time. your hands reach back to grab onto his biceps, nails plunging in, and it drives him crazy.

“you can cum baby, cum on your fucking cock—cream it baby let me feel you—” you clench around him so tight he lets out a string of ‘fucks’. you fall forward, face flat — cheeks pressed on the dance floor, letting your body do the job of releasing the past hour of edging. all tension let loose, you moan out his name so beautifully as you cream and choke his cock with your cunt.

“fuck fuck fuck baby, gonna cum too. gonna cum inside you pretty, fuuuuuck—” his grip on your hips tighten as he releases his creamy load inside of you. airy moans leaving his chest as he lets his cock paint your cunt as his.

he slows down his thrusts, letting the mixture of your releases mix together slowly. you both slowly relish in the moment of your bodies connecting, feeling nothing but love left.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s always taking care of you — including after care! loves praising you non stop, leaving trails of kisses everywhere. post-nut clarity hits differently for him — where he always tells himself that he wants to be yours forever.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s not only the best boyfriend, the best lover but also your best friend and the one person you’re most thankful for in the world ! <3

a/n: haha…was in a hoshi mood…<3 GAH. i hope u guys liked it ! typed this all in one go while thinking abt hoshi n him being the bestest boy ever.

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x angel!reader. pt.2

you squinted your eyes and tilted your head to the side, intently observing a small creature sitting in front of you. it mimicked your movement and wiggled its long tail. its black fur shone in the moonlight and its green eyes were carefully studying you. you hummed, slightly pursing out your lower lip and the creature let out a sound of its own — soft and barely audible.

“birdie!” dean called out, looking around for you.

you were on a witch hunt in some heavily abandoned town. you dealt with them pretty easily and now, it was the time to go back to the bunker. however, your wandering tendencies decided to show up, leaving dean stressed out with where you could possibly be. sure, you were an angel which meant that you could disappear wherever and whenever you wanted without much further ado. but you weren’t like cas — you never disappeared without a word. hell, you practically never left dean’s side, always stuck to him like glue. which is why he always worried about your little wandering off.

finally, he spotted you in some back alley, standing in the middle with that curious stance. he already knew the expression that would be formed with your heavenly features — you’d have a small pout on your lips, your nose scrunched and your eyes slightly squinted. by now, he was well aware of how you looked when something enticed you. you were like a curious kitten who escapes to explore the world. which he loved — you looked so pretty and he just wanted to cup your face and shower you with small kisses. he was absolutely smitten with you.

as soon as he got closer to you, he smiled, seeing what caught your attention. you were eyeing a black kitten as interested in you as you were in it. dean chuckled and approached you, putting his arm around your waist, and rubbing your side up and down.

“you’re having a staring contest with a lil’ kitty?” he asked with a smile, placing a small kiss on your temple.

“that’s a cat?” you hummed, raising one brow. you only heard about those creatures and never seen them before. but that now changed as you were sizing it up. “you said they were bigger.”

“they are but not that much more. unless you’re talking about tigers. then yeah, they’re bigger,” he admitted with a nod, trying to figure out the answer that’d be satisfying enough for you. “anyway, come on, birdie. let’s head back to the bunker. man, i’m beat,” he groaned, taking a step away and patting your ass to which you shot him a glare, receiving that cocky smirk in response. “come on. or else you’re flying back home,” he snorted, clearly proud of himself for his little joke.

you rolled your eyes and waved him off. “sure, sure, yeah. give me a second.”

“are you seriously going to continue staring at that cat?” he sighed in exasperation, placing his hands on his hips. he loved you and your curiosity, but he was tired and he had to drive back to the bunker. he just wanted to be back in his bed, cuddling with you or doing more unholy things. last time, you looked so pretty on top of him the last time and he needed to make it happen again asap!

“no,” you said matter-of-factly. dean was ready to sigh in relief when suddenly your next words caused him to choke on air. “i’m gonna take it,” you said with a small smile, biting your lower lip. and with that, you picked the kitten up as it purred happily in your arms.

“no. no way in hell. nuh-uh,” he shook his head, pointing his finger at you. “first of all, you don’t even know how to take care of this thing,” he tried his best to reason with you.

“what’s more to it than feeding and petting it? it’s like taking care of you. same thing,” you said with a frown, shrugging your arms. dean gave you an exasperated look, staring at you for a longer moment.

“seriously? did you just compare me to a cat?” he didn’t know whether he should be offended by that or what.

“am i wrong though?” you pointed back at him and raised a brow.

“fine,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes. “still, we’re not taking it. i’m allergic to cats.”

“so what? you just won’t be around it,” once again, dean was stunned by how straightforward you were being. as if it was that simple.

“you just said you prefer a cat over your own boyfriend. i’m hurt, birdie,” he gasped, theatrically putting his hand on his chest, but quickly put on a more stern expression. “seriously, it doesn’t work like that.”

“then i’ll just heal you. as simple as that,” you shrugged, walking past him with the kitten in your arms. “come on, look how adorable it is,” you cooed with a pout, nuzzling the kitten in your arms. and dean hated how his heart seemed to melt because of that.

“you’re unbelievable,” he sighed, following after you.

“i’ll let you hit from the back,” and that was enough to make dean’s eyes light up.

“so what do we name this little fella?” he asked with a huge grin, catching up to you and scratching the kitten behind its ear. he was a simple man — he’d do anything for you anyway, but if you would let him hit after? 

oh, he was down on his knees for you.

a/n: don’t mind me i’m just here to spread soft!dean agenda and how he’s absolutely down bad for his angel !!

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

i knew from the first note played i’d be breaking all my rules to see you. you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name. so dim that spotlight, tell me things like “i can’t take my eyes off of you.” i’m no one special, just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar.

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

~*~

“Ed, I got a new one for ya, he’ll be here at two,” Eddie’s boss Murray says from the open doorway of Eddie’s office.

“Huh?” Eddie eloquently responds, mouth full of the banana he’d found in the office kitchen for lunch. “What?”

Murray rolls his eyes. He gets endlessly annoyed when it turns out no one can read his mind.

“New singer-songwriter coming in at two, asked for you specifically. Working on his second album, so look alive.” Murray tosses a demo in Eddie’s direction before departing the office and moving down the hallway towards his own. Eddie barely catches it just before the plastic corner gets him right in the eye.

This is the problem with Murray. He gives no details and leaves absolutely no room for follow-up questions. The other problem with Murray is that he waits until the last minute to spring shit on Eddie that he knows Eddie’s not going to like.

Eddie flips the plastic CD case around in his hand so he can read the words written in Sharpie on the front. ‘S. H. - 2’ is all it says, giving him absolutely no information. It’s already ten to two, so Eddie doesn’t even have time to listen to a single song if he wants to make it up the two floors to the conference room where he usually meets with the talent for the first time. Eddie scowls in annoyance; he hates being unprepared and he just knows Murray is conspiring against him somehow.

Eddie pushes up from his desk and leaves his office, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button for the 42nd floor. He likes to play this game where he tries to hold his breath for the duration of the elevator ride. Two floors is easy. The ride up to the 40th floor is a lot harder.

By the time Eddie makes it to the conference room, his appointment’s already in there. As he walks through the glass doors, he realizes that when Murray said “new,” he didn’t actually mean new. He meant, like, new to them.

Because sitting in the conference room at the head of the table is former boy band heartthrob Steve Harrington.

~*~

Eddie had never had Steve’s poster on his wall in high school or anything embarrassing like that, thank god. But he had kept one of the pages he’d ripped out of the library’s copy of Tiger Beat folded under his mattress for early morning daydreaming. And Eddie had certainly never listened to his music when he’d been in Teeny Boppers United or whatever the hell his band of cookie cutter boy-next-door types was called (he definitely knew).

Now, here Harrington is, sitting across the table from him, hair full of blond highlights and cherry lipgloss (Eddie thinks, imagines, hopes) on his lips.

“Um, hi. I’m, uh, Eddie. Munson. Eddie Munson,” Eddie holds out his hand for Steve to shake and Steve does. Eddie tells himself he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes linger on him and how he takes just a second too long to pull his hand away.

Steve smiles, blinding and perfectly white. “Yeah, man, I know. My friend Robin has worked with you before? She had real great things to say,” Steve tells him and he sounds more sincere than a former-pop star asshole has any right to be.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks surprised, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, she’s been a huge help with my solo stuff. She co-wrote a few of the songs on my first album.” Steve drums his fingertips on the thick wood of the table.

“Huh.” The sound leaves Eddie against his will, as he’s trying to mask his surprise. Robin Buckley was talented and she had a sound that Eddie would never guess Steve Harrington would be into. She was indie, for sure, almost folk, bordering on a breathy country sound that Eddie thinks she’d deny if she heard him describe her like that. “I’m not entirely sure I’m what you’re looking for, to be honest with you.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He has no idea what Harrington’s sound is now that he’s broken free of the teenage bubblegum scene. But he’s always had a self-sabotaging streak a mile wide and he feels both relieved and disappointed to potentially have this out.

Steve frowns slightly, the crease between his eyes deepening. “Did you listen to the demo? I actually have this one song and I’m struggling with the bridge and, you know, not to, like, geek out or fan girl or whatever, but I’m, like, so into your sound and your lyrics and just the way you can construct a metaphor that seems so obvious when you hear it but is still so surprising in the context of the song it’s in and I think it would really complement what I’ve already started and…” Steve’s been gesturing wildly with his hands and must realize he’s rambling, because he trails off, blushing. “I mean. Did you listen?” He asks again.

“Honestly, Murray only just told me about this meeting about ten minutes before it started,” Eddie shrugs, but he feels bad about the way Steve’s shoulders fall.

“Ah, okay,” Steve pushes back from the table. “Yeah, okay. No worries.”

And Eddie feels, like, not great about this. He doesn’t like the disappointment he can see etched across Steve’s handsome features. So he reaches a hand across the vast wooden table, gesturing for Steve to stop.

“Wait,” he says, hand raised between them. “Listen, I’m… skeptical, to say the least. But. I’ll listen to your demo tonight, okay? And I’ll let you know what I think tomorrow. Is that… does that work?”

Steve nods quickly. “Yeah, dude. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thank you. Um. Do you… did Murray give you my number?”

“Here,” Eddie slides his notebook and pen across the table.

Steve picks up the pen, scrawling across the entire notebook page, before sliding it back toward Eddie. “My, uh, personal number.” Steve runs as hand through his highlighted hair. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks, Eddie.” He reaches out again to shake Eddie’s hand and this time, Eddie knows he doesn’t imagine the way Steve’s fingers linger on his palm.

Eddie clears his throat. “Talk soon,” he says, smiling, before Steve is turning and leaving the room.

~*~

Eddie had gone to LA with stars in his eyes and big dreams circling his head. He’d had hopes of making it big, of thousands of people screaming his name. It had sounded so good back then, when he'd been trailer trash in the smallest, most close-minded town in the American Midwest. And it had kind of happened. He’d recorded an entire album, had even had a national tour. But he’d realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t what he’d really wanted. Performing was fun, but what he really cared about was the song-writing. The way a perfectly constructed verse could speak to someone, on a deep, intimate, important level. That’s why he cared about music, that’s why it had always been so important to him. It wasn't the performing or the flashing bulbs of cameras or the after parties filled with people who wanted to get close to fame. It was the songs. It was the words and the meanings behind them. It was what it all meant, down to the end of it all.

So Eddie had changed course. He’d begun song-writing instead, freelancing at first, selling a song here and a collab there. Until he’d been approached by Murray Bauman, who’d heard what he’d done on a Taylor Swift track and was impressed. Murray had offered him a job in New York, writing and producing, an office and a salary for the first time in his life. And Eddie loved what he got to do now, loved the tracks he produced for other people to sing. He’d thought it would feel strange, like he was missing out on something, but it didn’t. It just felt good.

That had been five years ago and now here he is, sliding Steve Harrington’s demo into the CD player in his living room. He presses play and crosses the room to grab a beer from his kitchen. Just as he's crossing the threshold between rooms, he hears the first three notes of the song and it stops him in his tracks. He tilts his head back toward the stereo.

Because the song isn't the sound of a boy band lead gone solo, belting out pop lyrics that would guarantee major radio play. This song is soft and melancholy, the poetic lyrics of a chorus crafted with vulnerability, a complicated bridge that ties it all together. The song ends and shifts, the guitar twang taking on a pop rock tempo, more upbeat than the last song. Steve's voice comes out, deep and honey-sweet, different than his boy band days. The lyrics are still sadder than Eddie would have thought and Eddie's impressed by the words juxtaposed with the upbeat instrumentals and the tone of Steve's vocals.

Eddie listens to all four songs standing there in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Can't bear to tear himself away. And when the fourth and final song is over, Eddie crosses the room to click 'play' all over again.

~*~

Eddie waits to call Steve. He wants to call him immediately after his third listen, but he figures that it would be a bad idea to interrupt a client’s dinner or date or whatever former pop stars do on Thursday nights.

He spends all day at the office the next day listening to Steve’s first album on repeat. He thinks he can tell where Robin had helped with the lyrics, can see the ways the two of them have come together, and he can hear how their voices complement each other on the track she’s featured on. He listens to it on repeat for hours, before swapping it out for the new demo all over again. He thinks he can trace the way Steve’s voice has evolved since the first album, can see the places where his song-writing has matured. He spends the weekend deconstructing each song, finding the spots of vulnerability and the developed self-confidence that allows that vulnerability to take center stage. He feels a little guilty for not calling Steve, but he can’t imagine Steve’s sitting by the phone or anything anyway.

But the end of the weekend, Eddie knows he can’t say no to Steve Harrington. He knows that he has to be a part of this album, no matter what. That this project is going to be something magical, something unimaginable.

First thing Monday morning, Eddie calls Steve and makes a deal.

~*~

“Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you,” Eddie hears Steve breathe down the phone line. “I’m such a huge fan and hearing what you did with Robin… I was worried you were gonna say no, y’know? When I didn’t hear from you?”

Eddie smiles to himself, small and involuntary. He’d never thought he’d hear Steve Harrington sounding so earnest.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was just about ready to say no.” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and then shifts his phone from one ear to the other. “But I gave your demo a listen and I revisited your first album and I gotta tell you, I think there’s something really special there. I’m excited to see what we come up with.” He’s downplaying this, he knows it, but he doesn’t want to seem too eager. He doesn’t want Steve to know that he’ll probably die if he doesn’t get to work on this album. That’s probably a little too over dramatic, even for Eddie.

He hears Steve suck in a breath, can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Dude, thank you. I’m so excited. This means a lot to me. Thanks, man.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna have my assistant call you in a few days to set up some meetings and get everything worked out, timeline-wise. I’ll be in touch soon.” Eddie has to get off the phone now, before he says something dumb as fuck.

“Awesome. Thanks again, Eddie,” Steve replies, before there’s nothing but a dial tone.

~*~

Eddie has Chrissy set up all the meetings, scheduling studio time and booking out the conference room.

For months, Eddie’s life revolves around Steve Harrington. All he can think about are what chord progressions will have Steve’s voice sounding its best, all heavy and sweet, or what rhyme scheme the chorus should have to enhance its emotional tenor in the way Steve wants.

They record together, Steve in the booth and Eddie at the console. Sometimes Robin joins them, happy to take on second guitar and suggest a new phrasing for a line that’s giving them trouble.

Steve enlists the same band he’d used on his first album and Eddie’s kind of impressed by how well they all seem to get along. How committed they are to helping Steve figure out the vision for this album.

Towards the end of recording—long months spent trying new things, taking out second guitar here, adding a keyboard track in there—Steve convinces Eddie to play lead guitar on one of the tracks they wrote together. It’s one of the unfinished ones from the demo Eddie had been so enchanted by, the one that Steve had said was giving him trouble on the bridge. They’d spent long nights in Eddie’s office ordering late-night pizzas and trying to figure out how to make the song work. Eddie was so frustrated he was about to suggest they just scrap the whole thing until Steve started drumming on one of the discarded pizza boxes, humming along with a switched-up melody, a reversal of what they already had, a dramatic shift from chorus to bridge and back again. Eddie couldn’t do anything but stare and then the words were coming, Steve finishing his sentences when Eddie stumbled searching for the right word. By morning, the song was finished.

Eddie agrees to play, if only because he loves the song so much, so proud of the work they’d put into it. It has nothing to do with the way Steve’s sweet smile spreads over his face or the faint pinkness Eddie can see rising in his cheeks. In the end, Eddie’s even convinced to lend his vocals to the song. He doesn’t let himself think about how good they sound together, Steve’s deep voice belting out the lyrics with Eddie’s softer cadence just underneath.

~*~

Steve goes out on tour almost immediately after they finish recording. The record label says there’s so much buzz around the album, so much anticipation, that they should strike while the iron is hot.

“Don’t forget about me out there on the road,” Eddie jokes, voice light and airy. He and Steve are at his favorite coffee shop, just down the street from his offices.

“Could never,” Steve tells him, smiling, tone just on the wrong side of serious. He takes a sip of his coffee.

They’ve been dancing around each other for months, probably since they’d started recording if Eddie’s really honest with himself. But Eddie has rules and he’s been burned before. So when they’ve finished their coffee, they part ways. Eddie wishes Steve luck on his tour and Steve says he’ll be in touch.

Eddie’s life goes back to normal.

~*~

They text sporadically. Eddie doesn’t mind. He remembers how chaotic and stressful tour had been when he’d done it and he hadn’t been nearly as huge as Steve is now. Eddie knows it’s an endless parade of meet-and-greets and sound checks and dress rehearsals, one day blending into another. He’s surprised Steve even reaches out to him at all.

Steve is set to perform the last show of his tour at Madison Square Garden. Eddie thinks about showing up, grabbing the free tickets he gets as part of the job and surprising Steve. He thinks about it a lot actually, all five months Steve’s gone, fantasizes about how Steve might greet him, how he’d pull him into the green room backstage and…

A week before the show, Steve calls him.

“Hey, man!” Steve sounds winded and breathy. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, same old same old.” Eddie tries to sound as casual as possible, but he can’t control the grin that spreads across his lips.

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, listen, I only have a minute, but I was wondering if you’d be open to, uh. Coming to my show at the Garden?” Eddie thinks he might be imagining the nervous lilt to Steve’s voice, the unsure way he poses the question.

“Yeah, man, of course. I’d love to be there.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.” Eddie doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Steve has hung up on him.

~*~

The night of the concert, Eddie shows up backstage, feeling just a little out of place. He’d bypassed the front of house, but he hadn’t missed the line of young women and girls snaking out of the venue doors and onto the streets of Manhattan. He had known Steve was big, but he hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

A woman with short blonde hair leads Eddie into the green room. Steve’s getting his makeup done, but when he sees Eddie in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes light up and he smiles, wide and goofy. He pushes up from his chair and crosses the room, moving to pull Eddie into a hug before Eddie can even say anything, arms looped around Eddie’s neck. Steve is warm against him, his muscles firm and soft—a strange juxtaposition—as Eddie wraps his own arms around Steve’s waist.

“So happy you’re here,” Steve whispers against his ear, breath hot. Eddie can’t even react before Steve’s pulling away, crossing back over to his chair and dropping himself into it. Steve looks at Eddie in the reflection, their eyes meeting. “I have a favor to ask.” Steve suddenly sounds hesitant, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Oh, no,” Eddie jokes, winking at Steve in the mirror. “What is it this time?”

Steve blushes. “I know you don’t really perform anymore, but I was hoping you’d help me out with our song? It’s the last song of the show.”

The words our song echo in Eddie’s ears and he can’t help his smile. Sure, he doesn’t really perform anymore, but, he realizes in this moment, he’d do pretty much anything for Steve. The thought should be terrifying, but somehow it isn’t.

“Dude, that’s awesome.” Eddie watches Steve practically sag in relief. “I’d love to.”

Before long, Steve is being rushed around, manhandled on his way to the stage, and Eddie is left to follow behind so he can watch from the wings.

Eddie had thought he’d known Steve. They’d written and recorded together for months, felt every emotion possible in the time it had taken them to complete the album. But watching Steve perform is something else entirely. Steve glows under the harsh stage lights, smiling and charismatic as he jokes with the girls in the front row vying for his attention. It’s magical to watch Steve perform the songs they’d made together, to sing words from Eddie’s own brain. Eddie is transfixed by the way Steve’s lips wrap around each note, like each word that comes out of his mouth is the most important word that’s ever been spoken. Steve is otherworldly on stage.

“For the last song, I have a surprise,” Steve stops in front of the mic stand as someone rushes to bring him his favorite guitar. He pulls the strap over his head. Someone on the side of the stage nudges Eddie, holding out a guitar that Eddie’s never seen before. If he’d known about this, he would have brought his own beloved sweetheart, but he’ll have to make do with what he has. No backing out now. “You’ve probably heard of Eddie Munson.” Steve smiles as the crowd cheers. “Yeah, he’s a huge deal. He’s worked with everyone from Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers to Bruce Springsteen and Metallica.” The crowd cheers again. “I worked really closely with him on this album,” Steve smiles. “And he took something raw and messy and made it so fucking great.” The crowd screams. “I always close the show with my favorite song off the album. It’s the one that took us the longest to write. We were so frustrated, I thought Eddie was gonna tell me to just forget it. We spent so many all-nighters stuffing our faces with pizza and cursing ourselves for ever even thinking we should write this stupid fucking song.” Steve laughs with the crowd. “But then, one night it all clicked. It all came together. It was like magic, sitting there with Eddie on some ugly couch in his office, just about ready to give up. We made magic together.” Steve looks out at the crowd. “So. Eddie’s here to help me share this song with you.” The crowd goes wild as someone pushes Eddie out onto the stage, but Eddie’s eyes are fixed on Steve, who’s smiling at him from under the lights, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Playing the song is easier than Eddie had thought it would be. The notes come to him like muscle memory, like he could play this song in his sleep. He can’t take his attention away from Steve where he sings into the microphone. It’s all too much for his heart to handle. He feels like he might die here, right on the spot.

Just as suddenly as it had started, it’s all over. The crowd is deafening and Eddie’s got a smile on his face so wide his cheeks ache. Steve waves to the crowd before taking Eddie’s hand and leading him off stage.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, pulling Eddie along down the backstage hallways back towards the green room. “That was un-fucking-real.” Steve’s smiling, cheeks red.

Eddie can’t say anything at all. All he can do is follow helplessly behind Steve, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heartbeat so loud he’s sure Steve can hear it.

They’re back in the green room before Eddie can even blink. Suddenly, his back is pressed up against the closed door, Steve practically plastered to his front. He can barely breathe as Steve’s lips crash into his.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks, pulling back slightly. His breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “Been thinking about you for months.” His voice is soft, barely there.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie groans, running a hand through Steve’s hair, trying to pull him back in. “It’s so okay, Stevie.”

Steve lets out a groan of his own and then he’s kissing Eddie again, lips parting and tongue curling against Eddie’s.

Eddie’s not sure how long they stand there pressed up against the wall, hands tangled in hair, kissing each other breathless. All too soon a knock comes from the other side of the door and they jump apart.

“Steve?” A muffled voice calls out from the hallway. “You have a meet-and-greet in five.”

Steve looks at Eddie, laughing a little. “Fuck, sorry, I forgot,” he whispers, before raising his voice to respond to whoever’s outside, “Okay, just a minute!” He kisses Eddie one last time, soft and so sweet. “Come with me?” He asks.

Eddie nods and follows after Steve.

~*~

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve takes picture after picture. It’s kind of uncanny, the way Steve’s smile seems genuine in every photo he takes, the interest he seems to take in every person who comes to meet him.

The line has dwindled down when the next group of fans catch sight of Eddie in the shadows. “Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, before turning toward Steve. “Can we get a picture with you and Eddie?”

Steve laughs, already nodding, before turning towards Eddie. “You mind?” He asks, holding his hand out for Eddie. Eddie slides his hand into Steve’s and has his picture taken.

~*~

After, Steve invites Eddie back to his fancy hotel room, but Eddie counters by inviting Steve to his apartment. Steve’s face brightens, clearly excited to see where Eddie lives. Eddie tries to mentally envision how he’d left his apartment, thinks it’s probably safe for world-famous superstars to visit.

They take Steve’s car, his driver dutifully ignoring whatever’s going on in the back seat, and by the time they make it up the six floors to Eddie’s door, they can’t keep their hands off each other. They crash through the front door, attached at the lips. They stumble down the hallway to Eddie’s bedroom and Eddie all but tackles Steve down into the sheets.

The next morning, Steve insists on making a homemade breakfast. Eddie rarely cooks, but by some miracle, he’s got eggs and bacon in his fridge. Eddie knows he’s got a dopey look on his face as he sits at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, watching Steve move around his space.

Later, when they’re curled up together on the couch and Steve is dozing against his chest, Eddie scrolls through his Instagram feed. He’s tagged in a ton of photos from the night before, up on stage with Steve, eyes fixed on each other as they play their guitars, crisscrossing beams of light all around them. He scrolls for a few more moments, before he sees the picture they’d taken together at the meet-and-greet, with the three girls who’d asked for a picture with Steve and Eddie. Steve’s blushing, his hand still holding Eddie’s, a wide smile on his face. Eddie’s just as flushed, eyes glassy, but he’s not even looking at the camera, face turned toward Steve instead. He looks lovestruck. It would be embarrassing, but Steve shifts in his arms, letting out a tiny little sound from the back of his throat.

Eddie screenshots the photo and saves it to his camera roll.

~*~

@thecaptainsgingersnap gave me “dealer's choice lyrics from Superstar” :)

This turned out waaaaayyyyyyy longer than I originally planned, so I probably should’ve split it into two posts, but here we are. Hope you enjoy it!!

[lovebugism]

OK the fall prompt "rainy walks" got me thinking like... what if reader got upset about something and went for a walk and got caught in the rain, and ended up running into Steve who is just out walking and loving the fall gloomy vibe

ty for requesting! — steve runs into his ex while trying to escape a bunch of freaks and finds out you're running from something of your own (exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw mentions of toxic relationships, 1.9k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve doesn’t usually smoke. He dropped that habit when he graduated high school and realized he only needed a cigarette when his group of asshole friends were around. He smoked because it felt cool mostly, but also because it felt good to be distracted from his lingering feelings of non-belonging.

Now he’s got people around him who make him feel like he belongs. 

It’s too bad they’re all a bunch of freaks.

After being cooped up in the Munson trailer all day, he thinks he’s developed something short of cabin fever. Desperate to get away, he swiped one of Eddie’s cigs and a forgotten zippo before heading out to smoke on the back porch.

He exhales grey smoke from his pink lips. It leaves in invisible wisps beneath heavy storm clouds. He thinks he hears a voice over the muffled sound of Dustin Henderson’s yelling. “Fucking asshole— who do you think you are?” the voice speaks, familiar in a way that makes his stomach ache. “Like, fuck you, dude. You don’t get to talk to me like that. No fucking way.”

He peeks around the corner, and there he finds you — an old ex from a lifetime ago that he hasn’t quite gotten over yet. His chest starts to tighten. He can’t tell if he’s happy to see you or utterly horrified.

You’re still dressed in your pajamas despite it being early afternoon — if an oversized t-shirt that certainly doesn’t belong to you can be counted as pajamas, anyway. It’s a white and red Metallica tee that falls to your knees, slightly frayed at the hem. 

It probably belonged to Billy before it belonged to you. If Steve had to guess, you probably stole it like you did all his shirts. He still isn’t sure what came of his favorite Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt.

You come down the road from the Hargrove-Mayfield trailer, looking like you left in a rush. You’re barely dressed and shivering in the cold, walking fast like you’re angry and desperate to get away.

You and Steve broke up a long time ago, but his heart still swells with the familiar urge to protect you.

“Are you okay?” Steve calls to you as he rounds the corner of the Munson trailer.

The crunchinggravel beneath your feet goes quiet when you still. Your head whips toward the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening when you find Steve there. Your heart starts to race — not because you’ve just run into your ex, but because you’ve run into your ex who you kinda sorta ditched several months ago.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay,” he repeats with a quiet, lopsided grin. He flicks the end of his cigarette with his thumb and tries to meet your gaze. “Sounded like you were giving someone a hell of a talking to.”

Your face flares with embarrassment. You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest — partly to shield from the crisp cold but mostly to comfort yourself. “Yeah. I’m just— I was just talking to myself,” you stammer, flashing a wavering smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m good.”

Steve nods, then squints like he doesn’t believe you. “Okay… Are you sure?”

A laugh tumbles from your mouth. It’s cynical and bitter and utterly forced.

“Yes, Steve. I’m fine,” you assure with a bite to your tone, colder than the grey autumn around you. You smile through it anyway, like you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Steve knows this. He hasn’t been your boyfriend for a while, but something about the way you say it makes his chest ache. He isn’t sure why.

“No, I know,” he nods quickly, shrugging with his brows pinched. “But I’m never gonna, like, not worry about you, you know?”

The empty feeling in your chest starts to warm. Your nails dig crescent shapes into your arms.

“Why?” you murmur.

“I don’t know. Because you were really important to me, I guess— you are really important to me. And that doesn’t just, like… go away,” Steve rambles, shier than you’ve ever seen him. He swipes an anxious hand through his cinnamon locks. The rouge strands hanging over his forehead fall back into place a second later.

Even though your boyfriend forced you not to talk to any of your friends, he wants to say. Even though you’re not mine anymore.

It’s been so long since someone’s been this soft with you. You’re not used to it anymore. You’d much rather him be mean because at least then you’d have a place to put all your anger.

“That’s… That’s nice,” you mutter under your breath like an idiot because you don’t know what else to say.

Steve takes one last puff of his cigarette, if only to distract himself from the awkward silence. He takes a deep breath in and tosses the stick to the gravel, exhaling the smoke as he snuffs out the ash with his sneaker.

“Where were you, uh— Where were you headed?”

“Nowhere. I was just… on my way back home.”

His brows furrow. He doesn’t bother to hide his concern. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope,” you answer with a sigh. “Still don’t have my license, so…”

“Still?”

You nod, scrunching your nose all sheepish. “I know…”

“We used to practice all the time!”

Steve’s golden laugh makes you smile despite yourself. “Honestly, I’m still a little scarred from when I almost hit that deer.”

He nods at the memory, quietly nostalgic and warm with it. 

That was on the way to Deep Green Cove, where the two of you were headed to meet his parents at their over-the-top lake house. He let you drive because he knew you’d been wanting to and thought the vacant countryside road would be easiest for you to practice on.

It hadn’t been.

And you did it all for nothing because his parents didn’t even show.

It was a good weekend, though. He can’t believe he forgot about it until now.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I guess,” Steve shrugs with his head tilted to his shoulder. “It took me three days to get you in the car again.”

“I’m pretty sure I cried, like, all night after that.”

“Yeah, my t-shirt still has tear stains on it, actually,” he teases with a boyish chuckle.

Your own giggle sputters from your mouth. You hide it with your palm — like you feel guilty about it. It feels good to laugh, though. To remember that you used to cry over stupid stuff like that and not shit that actually breaks your heart.

A fat raindrop plops cold on your shoulder. You wince. “Oh, fuck— I gotta go.”

“Let me take you,” Steve offers without thinking twice.

You stumble back when he steps towards you, shaking your head to dismiss him. “No. It’s okay.”

“C’mon. Just let me drive you home—”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m not letting you walk in the rain.”

“It’ll be okay—”

“You’ll freeze.”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “It’ll be better than what Billy does to me if he finds out I was alone with Steve The Hair Harrington.”

You say it like it’s a joke, and it isn’t, really, but Steve isn’t laughing anyway. His chiseled features twist in concern, like your words have somehow pained him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you answer, perhaps too quickly, laughing as you shake your head. “It was just— It was a stupid joke. I’m just being dramatic.”

“Are you saying he’ll hit you?” he wonders in a quiet murmur, far too somber than you’d like.

“No— what? No!” you stammer quickly, face as screwed up as his scruffy one. You start to ramble before you realize it. “Billy isn’t like that, okay? He’s just— He’s a fucking baby, and he’s dramatic, and I’d love to go one day without being fucking gaslit. That’s all. I’d rather just freeze on my ten-minute walk back home than have him berate me about hanging out with my ex.”

A few more raindrops fall. Spots of ashy gravel turn to a darker shade of grey. 

Steve grows quiet, letting the gentle cadence of water on tin roofs fill the silence. His chest aches all over again. He can’t decide if he’s sad for you or angry at Billy or grieving that he ever let you go in the first place. Maybe a mix of all three.

His hands tremble with the intensity of the swirling emotions, but it’s still in his nature to be soft with you.

“Do you wanna come inside?” he wonders, nodding back towards the trailer.

“To Eddie’s?”

“Yeah.”

“…No,” you answer with the shake of your head, face twisted like the offer offends you. It does, but only because you’re almost sure Eddie hates you now. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. If your best friend chose some asshole over you, you’d hate them too.

“No?”

“I haven’t talked to him in forever— I haven’t talked to any of you in forever.”

“It’s okay,” Steve nods, so gentle it makes you writhe.

“No, it’s not, Steve. I ditched all of you. I was awful to you.”

You don’t want his gentleness. You want him to hate you. You don’t deserve his warmth or the one inside Eddie’s trailer, practically aglow with the laughter of all the friends you left behind. You deserve the isolation. You deserve to stand in the rain and freeze.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, a newfound insistence in his tone like he wants you to really hear him. His bushy brows raise and his honey eyes sparkle, golden even in the grey. “We know why. We know it’s not your fault.”

You falter, swallowing through a closing throat. “You do?”

“Yeah. And we don’t— we don’t blame you for it, okay? For any of it. We miss you, actually.”

The crooked pink grin he flashes should comfort you, but it only makes you shrink inside yourself. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur, disbelieving and dripping with self-loathe.

“Ask Robin if you don’t believe me,” Steve tells you, smiling wider now. “Actually, she was just talking about how making fun of me isn’t as fun without you.”

You don’t want to believe him, but you glow with the faint hope that he’s telling the truth, anyway. 

“Really?”

“Really,” the boy nods, then grimaces when the light rain grows suddenly heavier. His brows scrunch as he holds out an arm towards you. “Screw your boyfriend, okay? Just come inside. We can take care of everything else after.”

You want so desperately to take the hand he holds out for you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the longing to hold him, but you don’t let yourself — even though it goes against all your human instincts not to. 

You’re made slightly braver than he had said we. “We can take care of that later,” he’d promised, a subtle assurance that you aren’t as alone in all this as you feel. But you often feel like you’re a black hole at times — you don’t want to suck anyone else into the mess you’re in.

“I don’t know…” you waver, teeth threatening to chatter when a breeze makes the rain colder.

“C’mon, before both of us get soaked—” Steve laughs when it starts to rain harder. All the clouds begin to pour at once. You rush to him before you can think twice about it. His palm is warm at the small of your back when he ushers you towards the trailer.

Beneath the high-pitched squeaking of the screen door, you hear Steve mumble behind you. “Dustin’s gonna fucking flip when he sees you.”

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Stop trying to push past me, asshole.”

Angel Dust: “Move, I’m gay.”

Vaggie: “And I’m down here at 2 am getting a snack a drink for my girlfriend, what’s your excuse.”

Angel Dust: “Do ya want me raidin’ the fridge at weird hours, or doin’ drugs?”

Vaggie: “I want you to wait your turn and quite shoving.”

Angel Dust: “Ya gonna have to bribe me."

Vaggie: "With? Letting you live?"

Angel Dust: "Please, I'm gonna need way more than that- I wanna know why you’re wearing Charlie Chip’s button down shirt and ONLY her shirt!”

Vaggie: “Only one I could find.”

Angel Dust: “Oooh~?”

Vaggie: “She’s pretty annoyed at my clothes by the time she gets them off me.”

Angel Dust: "HA!"

Vaggie: "And I get pretty annoyed with you by default."

Angel Dust: "Aww thanks toots, my heart is all mooshy. Cotton candy princess got some SPICE to her, huh?”

Vaggie: “Yeah well, speaking of spicy, if any of my clothes made it out a window and onto the hotel steps again, they aren’t mine and I’ve never seen them.”

Angel Dust: “I mean I guess that shit lie will work… if they’re ya panties or whatever-”

Vaggie: “A thing that I wear. Right.”

Angel Dust: “-the rest is kinda an iconic outfit thing though, toots, don’t know anyone wouldn’t know who’s it- wait a sec- are ya saying ya DON’T wear-?”

Vaggie: “Here. Leftover cake.”

Angel Dust: “You can’t bribe yourself outta THIS talk, Vaggie Tales!”

Vaggie: “Sure I can, it’s triple chocolate and has sprinkles. Take it and hide or else everyone else will come crawling out of their rooms for a share.”

Angel Dust: “Crawling, ya say?”

Vaggie: “Literally. Trust me.”

Angel Dust: “Hmmm… and, is triple chocolate-”

Vaggie: “Husk’s favorite. Have fun.”

Angel Dust: “We’re picking up the panty thing tomorrow, toots!”

Vaggie: (already leaving) “No we’re not.”

Angel Dust: “We sure as hell are! Maybe for real! Off the hotel front steps! IF YOU EVEN WEAR ‘EM!”

Vaggie: (already gone) “Go pick up your Doctor Seuss crush before the cake gets stale!”

Angel Dust: “YOU TAKE THAT BACK! He’s not a twink in a hat! HE’S A RUN DOWN TONY THE FUCKIN’ TIGER WITHOUT STRIPES AND AFTER A WHOLE CARTON OF SMOKES!”

Vaggie: (distantly) “Whatever…”

Angel Dust: “You’re just too lesbian to appreciate it!”

Vaggie: (fading out upstairs) “That, and I’m too not-single for it either…”

Angel Dust: “Oh that bitch….” (bites cake) (mumbling) (sulking) (single) “Hope Charlie Chuck yeeted her damn clothes clear across town.”

Charlie: “I didn’t. This time.”

Angel Dust: (SHRIEKS)

Charlie: “Hi.”

Charlie: (dropping down from ceiling and scurrying over the counter top wrapped in just blanket)

Charlie: “I wanna share an extra piece of the cake, please.”

Angel Dust: “DON’T BEDSHEET GHOST SCARE ME LIKE THAT! Fuck!”

Charlie: “Sorry! Cake?”

Angel Dust: “Didn’t ya girlfriend already get you a slice!?”

Charlie: “Of course she did!”

Angel Dust: “So what’s wrong with THAT one??”

Charlie: “It’s gone…”

Angel Dust: “Gone HOW-”

Charlie: “I started missing her and came down to meet her and the cake, um.” (points at stomach) “Didn’t survive.”

Angel Dust: “Un-bi-lievable.”

Charlie: “Caaaaake?”

Angel Dust: “Here.” (shares cake) “SHOO!!!”

Charlie: (shoos) “I’m shooing! And by the power of this cake, maybe I can throw MY shirt off of her this time!”

Angel Dust: “Oh your dad have mercy..... how much sugar have ya already had?”

Charlie: “Enough to shower a tit- uh sorry- THROW shirt clear across town!”

Angel Dust: “Just take it off her before ya yeet it.”

Charlie: “? Oh!! RIGHT!!!!”

-an hour later at angel dust’s door-

Charlie: (knocking) “Angel? I need you to watch the hotel for little while!”

Angel Dust: “I’m busy! Don’t interrupt the cake!”

Charlie: “PLEASE Angel Dust it’s IMPORTANT and I wouldn’t bother you but I can’t find Husk so-” (door opens) “-oh hi Husk, can YOU please watch the hotel for me??”

Husk: “Why the fuck.”

Charlie: “I need, to go apologize, to my girlfriend.”

Angel Dust: “Vaggiraptor is right upstairs, ain’t she? Why’d we have to watch the hotel for that?”

Charlie: “Because I…”

Charlie: “…I need to figure out, where she landed, first…”

Angel Dust: (GASP) “Nooo…”

Husk: “What?”

Angel Dust: “You didn’t.”

Charlie: “I didn’t mean to!”

Husk: “What the fuck did she do?”

Charlie: “It was- the sugar! My hands were shaking- I was frustrated! And really really distracted!!”

Angel Dust: “HOW could you!? I TOLD ya-!”

Charlie: (on her knees) (wailing) “And I FORGOT!!!”

Husk: “You know what? Fuck it. I don’t wanna fucking know.” (heads back to the cake)

[etherealily]

𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.

This one is loooong.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.

Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.

But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.

"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"

"What?"

"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.

"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"

That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"

"You're scarily good at this."

"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.

"Can you just fucking drive, please?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.

The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.

You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.

"What?"

"It's not just us."

No, no, no, no.

"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.

"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."

"Why?"

"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."

That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.

"Wait, just-"

"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."

"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"

"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."

Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.

"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.

The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.

And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.

"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.

"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.

"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."

That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.

"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."

His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.

"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"

You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.

"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."

You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.

In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.

"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."

He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.

Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.

Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.

"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.

The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.

"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"

Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.

"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."

"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.

With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."

You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.

"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.

"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."

"What he does?"

"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"

He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."

Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.

"So, you've taken psychology."

His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.

"Yeah."

"How come?"

"Always been interested in how it works."

"Can you read minds?"

"Essentially."

"Read mine."

"I... don't know you well enough."

"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."

Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.

Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.

"How's the food?"

Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?

"Oh, great, I really like it."

Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."

Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.

"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.

"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"

"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."

The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."

"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.

"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"

"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."

Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?

Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."

You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.

"So you and Nate are friends?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.

"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."

Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.

"That's a new one."

You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"

"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."

Your phone buzzed.

'I really didn't know they'd be here.'

'Shut up.'

'Ur doing great.'

'I said shut up.'

'Lol.'

"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"

You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.

"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."

"Aaron."

Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."

"No, I'm not a cheerleader."

He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."

"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."

THAT escalated fast.

"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."

"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.

Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.

Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"

Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.

"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."

"Shame. She's a knockout."

Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.

"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.

"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."

What. The. Fuck.

"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.

"Nate."

"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.

Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."

"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"

"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"

Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.

Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.

Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.

Okay. Phew.

And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.

FUCKING CHRIST.

═══════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ═══════════════════

The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.

You knew that because you'd been keeping track.

The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?

But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.

And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.

Wait, no, scratch that.

Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.

"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.

He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.

But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.

He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.

That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?

Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.

"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.

"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.

"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.

He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"

'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.

"Nate-"

"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.

SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.

"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"

"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"

"Nate, I'm just-"

"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"

"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"

"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"

"Nate-"

"FUCKING SAY IT!"

You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.

It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.

"Nate."

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"

"Fine, he's an asshole!"

He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."

"You're not apologizing?"

"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."

Deliberately obtuse, just like always.

Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.

"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.

'That's normal', his look said.

"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.

It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.

"No."

Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.

"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."

"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."

He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.

You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.

He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.

Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.

The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.

You stood in front of the mirror.

The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.

You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.

Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.

At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.

Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.

Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.

When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.

"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."

His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.

Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.

Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.

"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.

You're one to talk.

"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.

You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.

He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."

Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.

He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.

What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.

"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.

Like a bull craves the muleta.

Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."

"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.

"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"

He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.

"Okay."

"So say something, damn it."

"About what?"

"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.

"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."

He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

You nodded. "'Kay."

"Tell me about Queen."

"Look, man, I don't know-"

"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.

"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."

"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.

"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."

"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.

The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.

"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.

He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."

"Okay."

"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."

"A blanket?"

"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."

"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."

You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."

"It's late."

You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"

Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.

He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."

"I'm not spending the night, Nate."

"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.

"Nate, I'm not staying over!"

"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."

It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.

"Nate!"

"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"

"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."

"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."

What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.

Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.

"You're fucked up."

"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.

"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."

"I thought you fixed it."

"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."

"My family's expecting me home."

He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"

"No." As if.

"Where do they think you are?"

Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.

"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."

His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"

"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."

"He wasn't a perv."

"I'm a guy. I can tell."

Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.

You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"

"I care too much."

You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."

"Then don't think the thought."

"You're staying."

"Like hell I am."

He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.

"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"

"Alexis."

"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"

"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"

"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.

"Is that what you think girls talk like?"

"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."

"Misogynist."

"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."

Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.

"That's not the point-"

"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."

"What?"

"That hurts, sweetie."

"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.

"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."

You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."

"Really?"

You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.

"Yeah, why not?"

"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."

"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."

"Pass. Hard. Pass."

"Why?"

"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"

"Alright, shut up."

"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."

"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."

"God, then you must think I'm hideous."

He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."

"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."

"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."

"Uh... pass."

"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.

"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."

The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"

"We weren't in a restaurant."

"Where were you guys?"

"He took me to a club or something."

Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."

You nodded. "Yup."

"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."

"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."

He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."

It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."

"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."

"History?"

"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."

You rolled your eyes and he smiled.

"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"

"What?"

"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."

See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.

"Okay."

"You should get to sleep. It's two."

"What will you do?"

"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.

Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."

"Yeah. I got that now."

"You gotta stop drinking, man."

He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.

You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.

So fucking yay. Good riddance.

And the next day, Monday, you realized something.

School had never been so fucking fun.

Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.

No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.

...

Ha.

So gullible.

----

Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.

Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.

Maybe that was his allure.

Hurting you then comforting you.

Making you cry then wiping the tears away.

But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.

The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.

And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.

Flight or flight was fucking useless.

But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.

The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?

You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.

[starberry-cupcake]

We're back! again, if these silly recaps help lift your mood in any way, it makes me very happy ♥ I baked chocolate chip cookies for this so imagine I'm sharing them with you 🍪

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

also @unexpected-tigers linked me to an official house quiz and I did it so, if you want to know what I got and how I answered, I'll add it under "read more" after the recap

CHAPTER 44

listen, I need to start listing things I got right and things I got wrong but I forget at this point what I said

you're gonna have to remind me if I got something right and I didn't catch it because I remember what I got wrong more easily than what I got right

such is life

I'll do my best to try to tally but

I got wrong the narrator, I assumed that, because they were insulting harrow, it might be harrow too

but I forgot about gideon also being a pro at insulting harrow so, guess what?

IT WAS GIDEON

WELCOME BACK, BABE, WE MISSED YOU

CRYING TEARS OF JOY

of actual joy, not mercygirl-joy

to be fair, the narration was very different from gideon's perspective, to account for 1) the twist and 2) the fact that gideon's gideon-ness came out more and more as she got closer to the surface of perception in harrow's body

something she kind of explains later

but yeah, I got that wrong

however, I did get the purgatory situation of canaan house somewhat right and I forgot to mention it last time

ANYWAY, BACK TO GIDEON

CUE 'I AM THE BEST' BY 2NE1 IN THE BACKGROUND

someone stabbed harrow from the back, which is very shitty behavior from whoever it was

so gideon comes back into the real world with the immediate danger of her vessel, necromancer and partner in crime having been stabbed

and she was "left behind" because harrow is back in her canaan purgatory river bubble

with her ghostie ghoulie friends

gideon immediately finds out that harrow can't fight for shit

she's determined to kick the stabber's ass but it's gonna be hard when she's used to her massive guns and ninja warrior disposition and she's inside the body of a baby kitten

gideon's very eloquent commentary is "Fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Help. Yuck. Aaaargh."

it's so nice to have her back :')

she's talking to harrow in the second person, as she's been doing all this time unbeknownst to those of us who didn't catch it

"which proves that you can put the swordfighter into the necromancer but you can't, wait, hang on"

god, I missed her

gideon is also coming to terms with the fact that harrowcita has regenerating abilities now

she is very angry at the awful state in which her two handed sword is

if you knew, gideon, about the relationship between harrow and your sword and how layered it was...

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it"

so gideon starts taking control of the situation because the beast is chasing them

absolutely no chill over here in the emperor's bolthole

and by "them" I mean gideon and harrow because idk where the everliving fuck everyone else is

I know the emperor is hiding in weenie hut jr but the rest are supposed to be fighting

except for whoever was going around stabbing people

and idk where not!dulcinea is at this point either

maybe someone's using her to stab harrow idk, I'll never stop blaming her for things, even indirectly

gideon is doing a great job with what she has available because she's "a good girl and you're an evil nun"

she's also still going on about harrow leaving her behind and saying "you never got rid of being so absolutely fucking goddamn sad"

chisus christ gideon, tell us how you really feel about her

gideon looks at herself in the mirror and sees harrow with her eyes and her expressions, which is very uncanny valley

"This was your shell, but it was all filled up with me. God, the double entendres were hard to resist"

yandere twin would appreciate that one, I think, maybe

gideon proceeds to taunt harrow to come back by using her voice to say things like "Oooooh, Palamedes. I am measurably less intelligent than you. Put your tongue in my mouth and I'll flop my tongue against it."

"Ohhhhhrr, Gideon. I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I'm very obviously attracted to y—"

no no, by all means, go on

please, gideon, go on with that idea, let's see where it takes us

in other important but not as spicy events

gideon cuts the beast thing in two with her own sword

but now we've got the heralds to go through

"Don't worry, honey. I'll keep the home fires burning."

same energy as

CHAPTER 45

we're back in hotel california canaan house au river bubble

I'm sure that description makes it all super clear for anyone reading

abby and her hubby are taking harrowcita to the secret hideout of the lost boys aka the room behind the tapestry that is now untouched by the body horrors going on in this version of canaan house

and where all our ghostie ghoulie friends are hanging out

it was a person's room, says harrow, and I think we all know it was alleged gideon's aka ortus, but we'll get to that

I need to point out the fact that harrow says she always thought not!dulcinea showed signs of "suppurating ego" but that she could never convince gideon to "see past the appealing eyes and softly clinging dresses"

I KNOW, GIRL, IT DROVE ME FERAL TOO

apparently harrowcita's invite also got to the kids of the fourth but abby sent them back to the river with a kiss in the forehead and their lunch packed

because she had adopted them, as we all know

she said "if only Silas had asked me, what has happened to his soul worries me horribly"

of course I didn't remember that silas was mayonnaise uncle and had to do math for a while in my head

maybe he's out there looking for duracell bunny nephew's soul that is still travelling through the river

abby learned a way to send them back into the river but everyone present wants to help deal with this haunt situation harrow's got going on

honestly, props to martita for hanging around, judith is a lot less cooperative

abby also thinks there's something wrong with the river and that the emperor is unaware of it because he doesn't know about the river beyond

she has studied a lot about it

and that the fact that the "beyond the river" concept has been looked at with scorn by everyone for so long has made the potential studies of it stagnant

I love her a lot at this point

I mean, I'm still 100% a camilla girlie, I'm putting camilla's photo in one of those glittery clear files and covering it with heart stickers, don't get me wrong, but this woman is fierce af

abby, you know more than the emperor, you're more worthy than he is, please murder him

NOW IT'S TIME TO GET EMOTIONAL

GRAB YOUR TISSUES

IT'S ORTUS TIME

man, ortus won me with this chapter, he's great, let's keep him

let him be happy in the infinity of time with his fifth polycule

harrow tries to tell him that he doesn't have to apologize to her, that she owes him for crux murdering him and his mom

(interlude for "her unconscious gracelessness to Camilla Hect; a girl whom, in reality, she should have taken by the hands and thanked her profusely for every time she tried to save her cavalier")

(glad we're in agreement there)

they talk about how gideon died and ortus tells harrow that gideon never did anything without intent

"she had been outplayed by Palamedes Sextus, outgunned by Cytherea the First, undone by Gideon Nav"

damn, harrow

LISTEN TO THIS PART YOU FOLKS

"I should have offered help. I should have died for you. Gideon should still be alive. I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children."

ORTUS, MY MAN

THIS MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL

"she and Gideon had become women before their time, and watched each other's childhood crumble away like so much dust. But there was a part of her soul that wanted to hear it —wanted to hear it from Ortus's lips more, even than from the lips of God. He had been there. He had witnessed."

"I will hope better for heroism in my death"

ORTUS I'M HOLDING YOU TIGHT AND CARESSING THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD LIKE A PUPPY

harrow finds the "g&p" note

GUESS WHAT

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT THAT

ALLEGED GIDEON IS ACTUAL GIDEON THE FIRST

AND HARROW THINKS OUR GIDEON WAS NAMED AFTER HIM

I mean I had trust in my alleged gideon theory BUT I CAN'T BELIEVE I CALLED THE OTHER PART MAYBE TOO???

sixth house please accept me

she also finds another note, similar to the rant notes she had been finding, which reads: "the only thing our civilisation can ever learn from yours is that when our backs are to the wall and our towers are falling all around us and we are watching ourselves burn we rarely become heroes"

are the letters clues on the angry spirit that's haunting harrow?????

does it relate to gideon???

but when harrow is about to ask ortus about gideon ("less like tragedy and more like carelessness" 👀) abby interrupts

abby, interrupting me again when I'm getting to the good stuff

but I can't be angry at her because she says she'll exorcise the Sleeper

YOU GO ABBY, YOU LORRAINE WARREN THAT STUFF

And that's where we leave it for today!!! my willpower is strong and I know I can't make these too annoyingly long. Which is why, if you wanna know how I did with the House quiz, look after "read more". If not, see you for the next one!!! Super soon!!! Sending you all hugs in these difficult times ♥

So, this is the quiz that I did, the official author-made one.

I GOT *drumroll* A TIE BETWEEN THE SIXTH AND THE FOURTH

The author said that, in the event of a tie "Pick the House descriptor most like yourself, or most like the person you secretly wish you were, or with the colours you like best."

We all absolutely know where I'm going if I'm left to pick between those two.

To be totally transparent, I'm gonna show you my very messy notes, which I wasn't initially planning on showing, so I apologize for them not being neat and tidy. I added the skull I have in my desk as aesthetic compensation for the messy handwriting.

I picked 1st the pen and flimsy because, if I'm doomed and this is it for me, I want to go out writing. The bottle, because I considered a vessel for separating things or for keeping something in safely would be useful. The rapier, because I always take a swiss army knife in my purse with my keys and the rapier was the closest thing to that. The flare gun, because I might as well try to signal somehow, at least some of us could get saved. And the raft not to try to escape, like the answer said, but because if we're more than one person in the boat, having more space, even if somewhat leaky, could help out for different situations.

I did consider every potential option that could be turned into food but I'd rather die of something else than food poisoning of any kind.

I got the Fifth in second place, and I wouldn't have minded if I got the Fifth, honestly. In 3rd place I got Seventh and Eighth as a tie, I'm not gonna ask about that. The Second got fourth place, the Third got fifth and 0 points for the Ninth, I'm so sorry.

You should have seen my face when I saw a portrait of the Emperor was an option to take with you lmao

[dangermousie]

The fact that dramas not only have a whole category of "came to fuck them over, stayed to fuck them" romance but there are enough of them to have subcategories like:

The person I love is supposed to end the world, let's hope it goes out with a bang. Ours.

See Till the End of the Moon, Legend of Fuyao, Ever Night, Shine or Go Crazy, Kingdom of the Wind

They are a literal devil but everyone has their issues, don't they?

See Doom at Your Service, TTEOTM, The Legends, Love Between Fairy and Devil, Chong Zi, Journey of Flower, Scarlet Heart Ryeo, Legend of Zu, Ice Fantasy

Yeah, they killed (or hurt) my family but I can make a new one with them and that's a fair trade

See Empress Ki, Moon in the Day, The Wolf, Captivating the King, Goodbye My Princess, Siege in Fog, Royal Nirvana, The King's Woman, A Love to Kill, Whisper, Hotel King, Prosecutor Princess, Gaksital, Secret, Cruel City, Queen Love and War, Giant, Bloody Heart

I want vengeance on their family - by being an in law from hell!

See Beyond the Clouds, Queen of the Game, Love Song for Illusion, The Princess' Man, Innocent Man, Green Rose, Spring Waltz

He's the villain with corpse decor but it's good he's got hobbies, I guess

See My Villain Husband, Different Princess, Is Xianzun Whitewashed Today, The Romance of Tiger and Rose, upcoming Yong Ye Xing He and Offering Fish to Master, Legend of Condor Heroes (secondary OTP), Love for Immortality, Word of Honor

I came to rob them of their goods but robbing them of their heart is way better

See Robber, My Journey to You, That Winter the Wind Blows, Baker King, Call It Love

They killed ME before, but eh, let bygones be bygones

A lot of the ones above (Xianzun, Tiger/Rose, Different Princess) qualify but also Love and Redemption...(ETA Bulgasal as reminded by @crookedfandomquill)

A lot of them fit more than one category, too...

God, we are so blessed! :P

[thatdeadaquarius]

SAGAU / Isekai Genshin:

You can still use your characters! ... as in possessing them 👻

(all art by me down below, hope its decent lol - did it for u guys and myself i mean what )

Edit 9/7/23: 1,500+ NOTES??? BRO WHAT!! THABK YOU <3

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My dumbass forgot to put this here .-.

Anywya this is a full length fanfic now ;)

PART 1 (you're here!) / Part 2

So.

You got sucked into a video game. 

Crazy, but it happens ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

yknow how it issss

...you very quickly discover that unfortunately video game rules still apply...

which wouldn't normally be an issue! like, needing to use the bathroom in the middle of a fight? Nope! minor cuts and bruises like papercuts, only actual enemies or fall damage counting? hell yeah that'd be great (theoretically no chronic pains if you got that?? hmmmm unsure)

see the issue comes when you realize, you as a player, don't have a "character" that's all your own

there's aether/lumine yeah.. but bc the game's real now, they're their own people, and you didn't wake up to find yourself as a blonde twin...

the closest you can describe your form as is .. like a seelie?

or like the way ghosts look in game?

but a lot more "starry"

like your specterlike, but you look like you got filled up with stars and the milky way, maybe a reference of you being from another universe/world? (aether/lumine/dainsleif/khaenriah star symbol reference secret thEORY-)

but yah.

you also got just, white eyes.

like, not iris, not pupil. like your pupil and iris got erased

you gotta admit, at least you look really aesthetic now.

(u also got a little cape and hood on at all times, and you cant take it off to see your starrified hair >:/ ,very Blue Diamond-esque, look up Steven Universe, Blue Diamond if you dont know who im talking about)

so needless to say, as soon as you sort of glitched your way into existence you were HYPE

i mean ur ACTUALLY IN TEYVAT WITH THE BOYSSSS

...then you realize your a spooky-no-character-to-pilot-around-thus-no-character-model-body-for-you thingy

and that you cant touch stuff!! >:(

like wth!!!

thats just downright unfair.

so, you figure if you got no body to be.... you gotta find a new "character" to pilot >:)

...

I choose you, yellow fungi!

...

....

you're in the fucking woods (Sumeru somewhere obv, u knew that the moment you opened ur eyes),

what'd you expect?? an archon??

..wait a minute. can you possess an archon-

these kinda thoughts plague your first few days of irl genshin impact playing

a rishabold tiger? yep.

a sumpter beast? kinda slow and heavy feeling but yeah.

...you also try a ruin machine LOL

by far, the fungi and ruin machines are the best to possess, mostly because you can remain upright with those

(tho u did find some type of flying monkey that wasnt in game, but its like,, a real world and jungle now so that makes sense there'd be more complexity + stuff)

you do eventually think you should try and possess a person at this point... but ur kinda nervous 👉👈

its ur first time doin this okay nobody explained the basics to you youve been winging for a week now!

will your mind be replaced with theirs? it hasn't been so far with the creatures/bots

and as far as you can tell, they kinda just-

forget what happened or "wake up" after you possess them

(the tiger you were for a day looked confused as hell when it realized that there was a new pile of fruit next to it when it "woke up", it was your way of saying thank you to the animals of the jungle, u left them little piles of food you collected running around as them)

so THEORHETICALLY-

you should be good to go and possess a random poor eremite

... you figure you want to possess something human-like eventually even if you get a puppet body like wanderer/raiden so...

here goes nothing...

♤

so it's been 2 weeks since you've been forcefully yanked into teyvat, and by the second week, you were trying to possess eremites

which! worked out!

mostly..!

you kinda convinced the entirety of two eremite camps that a certain part one of sumeru's forests is hella haunted bc ppl keep "blacking out" and doing things they don't remember doing, yknow... like possesssion LMAO

they kinda ran off to escape you but, hey!

experiment #2: people possession, success!!

now you were kinda convinced of this when you realized no matter the angle the animals and machines of sumeru didnt react to you getting super close to them (you dont have to touch something to posses it, just look at it really, but you wanted to test limits, so you walked up to sumpter beasts and fungi and ruin machines)

but no one can see you.

you don't have a "character" most of the time, you can float and glide around the ground like scaramouche lol

you cant touch stuff bc of this, you cant smell stuff (u saw the eremites campfires & couldnt smell the smoke until you were them)

you cant eat stuff w/o a body, so.. it makes sense that the eremites and passing merchants, cant see you when you float around, trying to reorient yourself after 2 weeks of experimenting

:( ur only a lil sad about it... but mostly not bc lol u got possession powers so trade off u guess

the first time you see a vision-bearer you literally scream

LMAO

ur so lucky u cant be seen or heard

bc Collei would have def screamed back lol

needless to say u stalk the forest ranger- ALL DAY.

Collei goes on patrol around the woods? you go on a patrol.

collei goes to visit other forest rangers? you "visit" other forest rangers at base (lol u def possess a guy who was asleep on a bench nearby & wake up to go talk to Collei "in-person", poor guy was so worried he sleep walked/talked so hard he went to see Tighnari an hour later lmao)

welp, you decide this is your life now, follow Collei everywhere, talk one-sided to Collei until you can possess a forest ranger w/o it being suspicious (dont wanna turn the poor rangers into the terrified eremites from a week or two ago...)

then, after you get the courage and erase the paranoia that tighnari can just... somehow hear your ghostly bullshit-

u do the same to Tighnari (then Cyno when he visits! no u didnt squeal, so what, nobody can hear you- )

♧

Tighnari begins to get suspicious about 3 weeks into this routine.

he's been starting to collect and start a file on all the rangers or nearby villagers that've started randomly "blacking out/sleep walking" in the evenings usually

(u possess as close to nighttime as u can so it seems like sleepwalking)

So when Cyno comes back from a mission gone wrong,

having nearly been decapitated by a rogue flying ruin machine, only to black out and come to standing calmly 10 feet further than he remembered being 1 minute ago...

Tighnari's suspicions are confirmed, and he launches into researching this phenomenon.

his first thought is something like the aranara, but that doesn't account for the effect this thing is having on people

after all, what little forest spirit is strong enough to-

-control humans??

Tighnari begins to get the sense he's in over his head after he finds himself pushed into going into Sumeru City in order to collect more library books or ask around if the blackouts have spread to the city people

he answer is negative, on both accounts.

and he spends about one half of the day walking around, and the other reading up all he can on mythical creatures or ailments

Tighnari gives up for the day, and as he makes his way back to Ghandarvaville, he almost gets ambushed by some particularly nasty muggers

...and then he wakes up 20 feet away, his denro vision thrumming with power, full of worry and fondness for himself??, (just like Cyno said he felt happen to him..)

...Tighnari decides he needs reinforcements.

YOU GUYS-

UR LOCAL ZODIAC SIGN OBSESSED W/GENSHIN HIT A CHARACTER LIMIT ON A POST FINALLY. 😦

??? THIS WOULDVE BEEN LONGER BUT I BARELY GOT SPACE FOR THIS- I- EVEN THE QIQI POST DIDNT HIT LIMIT-

uh cya ig!!

Safe travels lmao,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist @revonie / @hat-on-a-cat / @takottai / @sickly-falling (?) / @iruiji

(Sorry about the late tag! I forgot to update my taglist before i posted this 💀 my bad guys)

Also if the people who got put there who i couldnt find a blog for see this, idk what went wrong ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ - maybe check and see if ur setting for "being able to be searched/looked up" is turned on?? Idk man