#I ACTUALLY WANNA TATTOO THIS INSIDE MY EYELIDS

[satoruxx]

Have you seen this

😭

oh my god... OH MY GOD???? IM GONNA SOB JUST LOOK AT THEMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GUYS GUYS THIS IS LITERALLY EXACTLY HOW WOLF TOJI LOOKS WITH HIS POINTY ASS EARS AND FANGS HE'S SO GRAHHHHHHH BARK BARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE LITERALLY LOOKS SO BIG N CUDDLY (AND SO HOT OH MY GOD I NEED HIM SO BAD)

AND AND AND LOOK AT LIL GUMI </////3 IM GONNA SOB HE REALLY IS JUST A CARBON COPY OF HIS PAPA !!!!!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL EARS.... sniffles.. that's my son everyone :((

UGH TYSM FOR SENDING THIS TO ME LOVELY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEEDED IT SOOOO BAD :333 IF ANYONE FINDS GOOD FANART PLS SEND IT MY WAY SO I CAN SCREAM OVER IT MHM !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[inkmaze]

think the main fashion style I want to work towards is how three cheers for sweet revenge makes me feel... lots of black n red, reddish eye makeup, rings, boots.. rad jackets.. admittedly slightly edgy but having fun w it

[doawks]

riding mingyu at 3AM🤭

all mine, kim mingyu.

warnings. not proof read. mild daddy kink. implications of breeding / unprotected sex. riding. dirty talk. lmk if i missed anything.

head pushed onto the silk pillow; hands intertwined - pressed onto your stomach━━ you let out a breathy sigh. to your knowledge, it was 3:10 am - thanks to the clock on the nightstand next to your side of the bed. you were bored out of your mind and had nothing to do. beside you, laid your boyfriend━ soft snores seeping from his mouth. he looked so peaceful, waking him up was the last thing you wanted to do.

you bite your lip in contemplation on what to do. then, with little hesitation, you rotate your body on your side, and push your face into mingyu’s neck. you nuzzled your nose into curve, before tattooing kisses onto his dewy skin. mingyu was a light sleeper, meaning that the faintest touches could make him stir ━ and it wasn’t exactly like your kisses were soft either. they were somewhat rushed with a hint of need. you brought a hand to his chest, trailing it down to his stomach ━ feeling his abs through the thin material of the tank top.

mingyu’s eyelids began to flutter, though it went unnoticed by you. you were too occupied into leaving open-mouthed kisses onto his flesh.

then, his eyes open completely. when realizing the situation, his lips quirked into a small smirk. his poor baby, too desperate to the point where she was ready to fuck her boyfriend in his sleep. he lifted a hand, bringing it under your arm to rest on your waist. “baby.” it was his deep voice laced with tiredness that brought you out of your trance.

at that moment, you felt embarrassment all over - like you’ve never felt before. you wanted him to wake up, yes, but you didn’t think he actually was. fuck.

his tongue pokes out, running over his bottom lip. “cmere,” he rasps, squeezing the chunk of your flesh into his palm, “wanna see my pretty baby.”

your face began to heat up, warmth erupting throughout your body. however, you slowly lift your head - bringing the hand that was on his stomach, back to yourself. you sat up completely and tried to look anywhere, at anything, but him. his gaze was so intense, you felt it shoot daggers into your body. and if you weren’t hallucinating, you were positive that you felt a drip of your wetness trickle down your inner thigh.

“what’s the matter, hm?” his thumb circles on your skin, “you wanted me up, didn’t you? baby just needed some attention?”

it was foolish at how quickly you nodded at the question. you needed him so badly━and he knew that. he always did. he removed his hand before stretching out his arms, inviting you into them. or more so into his lap. you obliged with little to zero hesitation. you climbed onto his lap, the strong hands he had on your waist, placing directly onto his clothed cock. a light whimper escaped your plump lips, causing his ears to perk. the sound was so pretty, so fucking heavenly.

“you feel that, angel? feel how hard i got just from some kisses?” his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek - feeling his patience run thin. you were in nothing but a flimsy pair of panties, and a tank top which your little nipples jabbed through. his hands run up and down your sides slowly, teasingly as if testing who was going to break first. you he would have to assume.

“daddy . . .”

he hums quizzingly, bringing his hand under the shirt to play with your tit, twisting your hardened nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger.

“wan’ . . . wan’ your cock.” you babbled, placing your hand on top of his.

“yeah?” he licks his lips once more, “are you wet, baby? gotta make sure you’re nice and prepped for daddy.”                

you nod immediately, “yes! see,” you brought his other hand that was on your waist, to your clothed cunt. your wetness seeped through the thin material, and mingyu had to groan at that━your warmth felt nice pressed up against his palm. “nice and wet for you, daddy. please fuck me now?”

“shit. take my cock out.” you did so with no uncertainty. the head of his cock was nice and red as it pumped pre-cum. you smeared the semen with the pad of your thumb, smiling diligently. you then lift your hips, pull your panties to the side and rub the tip of his cock against your quivering clit.

“hmph! can i- can i put it in, gyu?”

with the one hand he had rested on your waist, and the other behind his head, he watched you with hooded eyes, “go ‘head, princess.”

that was all the confirmation you needed before you sat yourself down on his cock. ripping a loud, hoarse moan from your throat. your pussy was still sensitive, seeing that mingyu had fucked you raw and well a few hours prior. the walls of your cunt sucked him in deliciously, as if you thought he was going somewhere. you pounced on him, ass smacking against his thigh. it wasn’t your first time riding him, but it also wasn’t something that happened regularly. any other time, you would be lied back on the mattress, pretty little pussy getting plowed until he ripped at least four orgasms out of you ━ or on other occasions, face pushed into the pillow as he wrecked your shit from behind. long story short, mingyu was always in charge to take your pussy - his pussy however he wanted. though, seeing his pretty little thing riding his cock once in a while wasn’t bad.

“fuck, baby. keep ridin’ me like that, and imma fill you right up again━make you a cute mommy.” if there was one thing mingyu loved, it was breeding you. watching his come slowly drip out your pussy, inching down to your asshole - only to push his cock back inside your cunt to make sure you were all nice and full. he wouldn’t want his baby feeling empty, no.

“aah━daa . . . need help . . .”

“nah,” he shakes head, eyes on your bouncing tits, “you got this, princess. fuckin’ me so well, already.” he praised, licking his lips which felt like the umpteenth time he did so.

your small hands press down on his hard chest, as you try to stabilize your movements. it became sloppy, the feeling of your clit twitching, and tummy twisting━you knew you were seconds away from coming all over his cock.

mingyu knew that as well, and took your twitching clit underneath his thumb, rubbing the pearl into harsh circles. your thighs began to convulse at his sides, and your broken whimpers became louder. mingyu’s pace didn’t falter and neither did your hips. it wasn’t long before you creamed prettily all on his thick cock.

slowly, you leaned forward to press a kiss onto his lips. his arms wrapped around your waist, kissing you back with much passion. “satisfied?” he mumbles against your mouth.

you smile, nodding, “thank you.”

[sunflowersteves]

listen. i know everyone thinks eddie gets bitches left and right (and maybe he does) but i still love the idea of him being kind of easily skiddish/flustered when someone he really really likes starts coming onto him, dont even get me started on if theyre actually gonna get it on

STOP BC I LOVE THIS!! sin saturday <3

warnings || smut!!, shy!eddie, virgin!eddie, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, 18+ only

“C-Can I?”

It seems such an innocent question, but everything about the situation was far from it. Eddie had you propped up on a coffee stained pillow and dirty band practice blanket on the floor of his van.

The air smelled of cigarettes and weed—the pungent smell flowing through and sticking to your clothes that were long gone on the floor.

His brown eyes looked at you so lovingly—so passionately as if the burning question that left off of his lips was making him go stir crazy.

And he was, because of you. You were on the floor of his van—body glistening beneath the rays of the moon. You looked so ethereal as his hands dug onto the surface of your hips.

“Yeah, Eds, please.” It was the begging that made him twitch. The begging—the please—that made him devour each and every sense of you.

He couldn’t help but kiss you so soft and feverishly as his teeth and tongue clashed against you. He whimpered against your lips at your sly hands unbuckling his jeans. “Shit—you’re so beautiful.”

And oh, you were. You were so beautiful that he’s sure he wanted this moment tattooed under his eyelids. He moaned when your hands gently caress his member—the thick veins and public hair rubbing against your wrist.

“W-wait—stop, I—I wanna be inside you, baby—please—” He chokes on nothing as your thumb swiped the tip of his cock. You smile, though, watching his shy movements and skittish smile.

You let him line himself up to you, his own eyes watching his cock split you open so slowly. You’re gripping his forearms right—nails digging into the surface of his skin. “Eddie, baby—shit—”

He was big. Really big. And yet, he didn’t even know. Nothing and no one to ever compare or share things to. He didn’t know that you weren’t sure he could even fit, definitely not until your moans continue to fill the van walls.

“Eddie, f-fuck, your cock, it’s so big, oh, eddie—” you’re cut off short by the thrust he gives. It was slow and easy, yet astonishing he hasn’t cum yet. Your wet, sticky walls are painted into his memory. Your slick that runs down to his balls will be cherished to no end.

“F-fuck, you’re grippin’ me, sweetheart. I-I-look at you. Fuckin’ beautiful with my cock inside you, yeah?”

He starts to understand a rhythm, his hips grinding straight into your pussy. His head never could choose where to look—your blissed face or your fucked out hole.

“Sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, so good. You-you—”

You gasp as you feel the thick ropes of his salty cum fill you up to the brim. He came fast and hard—moaning your name as if it was the only thing he could ever think about.

Shit, he didn’t mean to cum so early. He didn’t mean to cum until you’ve at least cum once. But, he couldn’t help himself. All he wanted was to feel you over and over and over again.

His cum still seemed endless though—your gummy walls puncturing everything inside of him. “Yeah, Eds, baby, cum in me. Yeah, that’s it, baby. S-shit you feel so good—”

He looks at you with a frown, though, still breathless from his ecstasy. “You didn’t cum.”

He wanted you to cum, to let yourself seek pleasure. He wanted his cock to rut into you until you’re both fucked out. He wanted you to cum on his cock so many times, he’s lost count.

Eddie Munson, the freak and the virgin that didn’t get any action, wanted to practically live in your pussy.

He lets the statement sit in the air, and you were truly not bothered by it much. Most guys didn’t let you cum, anyway. And for Eddie? For Eddie, you’d do anything in the world to make sure he’s happy.

“No, but that’s okay. I can—” Your mouth clamps shut at Eddie spreading your legs apart—rings cold against your skin.

“Is it okay? Can I eat you out? F-fuck, I can see my cum dripping—please—I need to lick it, please, baby—please—”

“Yes, Eds, baby, please, wanna see you eat my pussy.”

Eddie may have been spent for about an hour, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to devour you for the rest of the night.

[hanlimz]

NOOO literally i totally understand i can’t watch things in english w/o subs honestly .. but yeah it’s like i wanna watch it live but im Not gonna be one of those ppl that’s like “SPEAK ENGLISH 🗣️🗣️” bc that’s so cringe i’ll just watch it later on youtube w subs LMAOOO n Yes i’m totally fine !!! p sure someone was smoking weed n that set it off 😞 but everything’s Chillin

also nyx PLSSSSS ??

these won fits r actually lethal?? like that’s my Boyfriend we literally j went on a coffee shop date b4 the manila concert?? fr tho i want these pics TATTOOED on the insides of my eyelids 🤞😜

CASS BAE JAKEWON LIVE DID YOU SEE 😩😩 they did this for you frfr 🤭🤞

UGHHHH NAURRR WEVERSE HATES ME N DIDNT GIVE ME A NOTIF???? this is literally top 10 saddest anime moments fr bc i was AWAKE TOO?? the fire alarm went off in my dorm building LMAO BUT i actually managed to catch the last,,,, idk 45 seconds of chan’s room?? n that never happens for me..

but i Will be rewatching it‼️ i’ve rly been in my jungwon ERA lately n he looks sosososo good and happy and healthy .. my ANGEL my HEART my IRL BF !!!!! nyx ure fueling my delusions rn 🤭

[ikimaru]

i’ve heard ur playing genshin and i just wanna say if u ever draw venti i will actually worship the drawing, tattoo it onto the inside of my eyelids, and be buried with the art when i die bc ur style + my fave character would abolish me on the spot. either way i hope ur enjoying the game!! i love the story and lore

yes!! omfg I'm tryin to draw him and some other characters but barely started 👀 (might post some other in a bit tho) do u want it to abolish u? that sounds dangerous lool

and thank you, I am!

[fhrlclln]

dear diary | eddie munson

SUMMARY -> dear, diary. developing a crush on your own best friend is the hardest feeling to suppress in the world especially with eddie munson. xoxo

eddie munson x fem! reader

masterlist

REQUEST by @kellysimagines

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WARNINGS -> two idiots who don’t know they’re in love, love confession, embarrassment, bullying and misunderstandings

WC -> 5,212

a/n: i hope i satisfied your request !! i kinda like it.

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

oh, how the world can be cruel.

in all of your years being friends with eddie munson, you couldn’t remember how the two of you got together for the first time. sure, he was about one or two years ahead of you but that didn’t stop him from being held-back until you two were finally classmates this senior year of ‘86. in which was a bummer for miss o’donnell considering you two were a headache together. to say, an unlikely pair yet bonded over for the fact that they shared common interests amongst the normality of other teenagers. metal? DnD? fantasy shit? star wars? LOTR books? anything that’s with getting drunk or high as fuck? you two were on the boat for it, hence being a known duo throughout hawkins high.

but of course, at least one of you would catch feelings in the long road. and fortunately, it was you, you who first caught the glimpse of something else in your vision of other than the eddie munson being that musty annoying fellow freak of a best friend than to someone now you’d see as attractive. it was weird at first, of course eddie had some look that you’d see in him and agree the fact that he’s kinda hot. and you could remember the exact moment when that spark happened about a year ago or so.

it was another night in his trailer. you had offered him to help him study to pass a class he was failing severely, you felt sorry for him when he begged. laughed when he almost cried seeing an F on his quizzes again and again. it was going normal, you hitting him in the head every time he’d be zoning out or completely ignoring your pointers. and it eventually ended when the clock struck midnight.

“you wanna sleep here tonight, shithead?” he asked, usual ass nickname thrown. you rolled to lay on your back, staring at that god ugly face before nodding sleepily as you couldn’t glance at that math book anymore.

“fuck you for failing math and making me help you study.” you muttered groggily, eyes closed, getting cozy on his pillows. the scent of weed filling your nostrils making you sniffle or actually high.

he snorted. “not my fault it was so hard.” the background noise of something shuffling made you peek one eye out to glare at him. the noise of it annoying but there he was, removing his shirt off over his head, not ashamed he was in his literal boxers and half naked whilst cluelessly turning around to pick a shirt up from his floor and sniff it for inspection until he nodded with his choice.

gross. that should be the first thing you’d thought about him but no. your eyelids fluttered, gazing down to his chest seeing a new tattoo there. the dangle of his guitar pick necklace making it all more enticing. it was sort of a skull or something, you don’t know, it just looked… hot. his arms flexed as he pulled the clean dirty shirt over his head. the forearm tattoos bulging on sight, your heart thumped, your legs rubbed against each other. a fluttery feeling arose inside of your chest as you dumbly checked him out. he looked different, not as a different different but something on him changed. mature you would say, but you know damn well he’s got the mindset of a fucking annoying fifteen year old. but you were hooked, trying so hard to chant in your mind the reminder of, that’s fucking eddie. snap out of it!

“you good, shithead?” he called out, snapping you out of your drunken trance as you nodded seeing him clothed now. you felt your cheeks heat up. the confusion setting in as you shook your head. what is wrong with you today?

“yeah, new tattoo?” you asked, pointing to the spot on your chest where his tattoo was, trying your best to forget about what you just thought of your own best friend.

“hell yeah. looks rad, ain’t it?” he walked over to bend down and pull the collar of his shirt to show it with pride. you looked at it, not realizing the space between the two of you so minimal, suddenly it was a problem. you got flustered again, shyly looking away as eddie noticed your discomfort.

“you okay, sweet thing? cheeks looking glowy.” he teased, letting out a raspy chuckle that was somehow making your heart race to the skies again. sweet thing? he called you sweet? you were mildly panicking in the inside as you uttered no response making him raise a brow but ignored it as he laid beside you, unaware how you were considering in the inside that you’d kiss him—

“hellllooooooooo??? earth to shithead?” eddie tapped your forehead repeatedly with the tip of a pencil until you shoved his hand off. you were dozing off, bored to your wits as the two of you were seated together in english class.

“what?” you sighed, irritated, glaring at him. he grinned as he showed you something on his notebook. you look down seeing a fucked-up screwy drawing of a dick. dickhead. you glared at him again.

“you can’t even draw a dick.” you muttered, lowering your voice, faking a disappointed tone.

“a man’s trying.” he pouted making you roll your eyes as he squinted at you, still trying to draw a dick. “and how do you know what a dick looks like, huh?”

you huffed. “jesus, eddie. stop drawing and listen to the lecture.”

“maybe you do know. i think you’ve seen my mine.” he snorted, you blushed remembering that fucking time when you had accidentally seen him in the morning after your sleepover again, when he had rushed to the bathroom because of something pocking out of his boxers.

“you’re so gross.” you scolded, looking away.

he grinned, continuing his teasing further. loving the way you’re squirming cutely. “did it look—“

“mr. munson! stop flirting with—“ the teacher raised her voice, stopping to see you two seated beside each other, sighing tiredly. eddie’s eyes widened as yours was as well, pinching his thigh discreetly below the table making him yelp loudly. making the teacher sigh again. “…what did I say about sitting beside miss y/l/n in my lectures, eddie?”

“sorry?” eddie scratched his forehead awkwardly, all eyes were on the two of you. she was about to say something else as the school bell rang signaling lunch break making all students stand up, cutting the teacher off. you sighed in relief as eddie rubbed the fat of his poor thigh, faking a hurt expression as he looked at you as if you did something so horrible to him.

you ignored him, focused on getting your books in your bag for next class. shoving your pencil case as well, your eyes widened slightly seeing your diary out of the blue on the desk. you panicked, the familiar black worn-out exterior intimidating you knowing all your secrets are in there especially the most crucial of all who’s right next you. putting it between the books and notebooks, you could’ve swore you’d tuck it in safely inside your bag before english. you brushed it off anyhow.

“took you long enough.” eddie commented as you both stood up, exiting the room as students flocked the hallway as always.

“hey, eddie!” both of your heads shot to the direction of the voice. you sighed seeing that one cheerleader, you forgot her name (not like it matters anyway) call eddie out. you looked at him, lips in a frown as eddie’s grin drop, jaw clenching, a bit uncomfortable that girl was waving at him. you were too, never had you seen that woman ever glance at him yet here that blonde bitch was. were you slightly jealous? maybe, for no reason other than knowing her reputation as someone who is mostly like all the preppy students.

“ignore her.” you whispered, tugging his arm to the direction of your lockers. he stopped you, sighing, something in his face that seemed important. your brow arched, confused as you asked. “you coming, edds?”

“i’ll meet you later. i gotta deal with her.” he pointed to the gal. you were confused but nodded, looking over his shoulder for a second seeing that annoying smile on her face yet turned to him still unamused he was dealing in school hours.

“don’t ditch me.” you reminded him as he chuckled, eyes sparkling again as he kissed your cheek like always before he parted, the other girl’s calls for him ticking you off.

“it’ll be quick! i promise, sweet thing.” he winked, heading over to the girl. you rolled your eyes, turning back to walk over to your locker. mindless to put in the remaining shit in your bag to lighten the weight. not noticing the grinning brunette leaning beside you.

“you two are so cute.” robin’s voice teased, you shut your locker door with a slam as you crossed your arms before her. “and you still call him as your bestfriend?” she emphasized greatly.

“yes. what do you want?” you eyed her, ignoring her first comments about your relationship with eddie.

“well, answers first of all. why haven’t you asked him out yet?” she shrugged, confused. she knows the obvious feelings fluttering around the two of you, and she knew about your little secret since she had accidentally read your diary when you left it while working.

“it’s complicated and i’d very much like to discuss this at work than at school, rob.” you exclaimed as both of you walked towards the canteen.

“oh, please! your love life is like a bland cowering romance novel that readers are waiting for someone to make a first move for thirty-five chapters. you like him, he likes you. what is there to have complications, sweet thing?” she grinned, using the nickname.

you blushed. “you don’t know that.”

“oh, i do. and this hidden flirting going on is not working for me.”

“like i said you don’t know that.” you pushed, irritated already. robin paused her steps making you stop with her.

“y/n. as your friend and co-worker, i’m just saying go for it.” she urged, shrugging. knowing well what it’s like having a secretive crush. oh, and you knew hers as well, the price of paying when she read your diary.

“i appreciate your concern. but it’s eddie. nothing’s gonna happen.” you sighed, still pushing the thought of childhood best friends will just stay best friends. robin frowned, disappointed but didn’t push anything further seeing your face drop. unaware of the group overhearing it.

•••

“so how’d the deal go?” you asked, hoping inside his van as he started the car. school ended normally like any other day, except that he had gone back to you looking like something big happened to him. which you didn’t know if it was either bad or good.

“forgot her money. she said she wants to meet-up later again.” he sighed, words still blank knowing you sensed something he didn’t blurt out.

you blinked. “no money for a bag of weed? where?”

“i don’t know. just need the fucking money and she’ll be out of my hair. ah, shit.” he shrugged, mumbling as the engine won’t again as he repeatedly hit underneath the steering wheel, tone irritated. you kept your mouth shut seeing him suddenly all so worked up. couldn’t help yourself glancing back at how that smile that girl wore, did she say something to eddie perhaps? you were left wondering as the said man finally started the car and drove off to drop you off at family video. like usual.

you two eventually arrived there seeing robin and steve by the counter, helping customers. seeing a number of people in it, you sighed, another busy friday night.

“see you later. i’ll pick you up.” you nodded at him as you kissed his cheek for a goodbye. eddie merely gave you a small smile saying nothing else. no other nicknames or words just pure secrecy suddenly enveloping him that had you wondering what was going on.

“see ‘ya.” you smiled as you shut the door, glancing back at him as he drove away quickly. you stared off seeing his van disappear to the road, leaving you with this sudden confusion what’s going on with him. you did not want it in your head while working, you shrugged it off, wanting to talk to him about it later.

“you’re almost late!” steve pointed out as you got in the shop. you ignored him, setting your bag down in the backroom before picking out your work vest. robin was smirking and you paid no attention to it.

rent this, rent that, this movie this and this movie that. you were tired having to show a selection of the same fucking genres to one customer while the other on the phone you couldn’t understand the movie they were implying. you sighed again, rubbing your forehead, wishing you’d be by home now.

“welcome, ladies.” steve greeted the incoming customers. you glanced at them, your eyes widening hearing the chorus of girly giggles and whispers coming in. oh, you’ve seen them and you could see that gal from earlier eddie dealt with. along with the usual cheerleaders you’d see, chrissy and that. steve manage to be the first to whoo them, obviously harrington charm still working. you walked away from the group, a sudden ick of not wanting to interact with them.

“hey, y/n, right? friend of eddie’s?” what the fuck. you turned to the side to see the same gal right next to you. bubble gum gloss on her lips, maybe a little overuse of blush but that’s her.

“yeah.” you nodded, turning on the fake employee smile. “you need help with anything?”

“yeah. yeah. i’m carol by the way. i think you know me.” she smiled, offering her hand up for a hand shake. her smile, you couldn’t pin point the exact adjective you’d use for the smile but it’s certainly looked bitchy.

“ok…” you awkwardly shook her hand as you steered the conversation back into the purpose of why they are in family video. “so, can i help you?”

“i just need like a movie for tonight. i got a date. wondering if you can suggest me anything that’s romantic or action. just wanted this to be perfect.” she let out another big smile. you stared at her for a moment, steve was right fucking there, why not him?

“oh, cool. well most of the selection here are top sellers right now.” you pointed at the isle in front. “do you have any preference or the lucky guy?” you asked, feeling your jaw pop off if you continued to smile, staring into her eyes seeing that glint of something else. not necessarily friendly, just passive aggression behind that candy girl smile.

“i’m pretty sure he’s kinda into star wars. you know, cute and all. do you know that?” star wars. star wars? you nodded, forcing to pass by her to get to steve. something ticking you off by the way she looked at you and her choice of words. robin watched the scene unfold, also intrigued where this is going as you called for steve to ask about the trilogy if it were here or not. steve gladly offered his assistance as he patted your back, you smiled at him, offering carol to him as you can see her eyes immediately stick to steve.

“wow.” robin muttered, looking over to you as you quickly went to her side. “what was that?”

“that’s the same girl who’s been waving at eddie earlier at school.” you shrugged, sitting down on the stool. “you know dealing with her and shit.”

“yeah. i get that but what did you do?” robin asked as you leaned against the counter, careful to lower your voice. “i swear, chicks who smile like that always has something going on.”

“i didn’t do shit. why’d you think i’d do?” you glanced to the group again as steve head shot up and winked at the two of you. robin rolled her eyes as you chuckled seeing him being overcrowded. your smile slowly dropped as you glanced again at carol, you could see her, briefly staring at you before whispering something to her friend’s ear. as obvious as they are, you bit the inside of your cheek before turning your back before them, wanting this to end. the uncomfortable feeling too overwhelming to handle.

and thank god it did.

“freak munson still not here?” steve stood beside you, family video already locked up as you were waiting outside patiently for the metalhead to show up any moment. the cold air brushing against your cheeks, reminding you that awful presence inside the store a while ago.

“he’s usually late but not this late.” you shrugged, guessing you’ve waiting over half an hour.

“well, i can’t leave you here. robin’s already waiting in the car, wanna hop in?” steve offered, putting his hands inside of his pockets as you smiled at him. always so sweet. you pondered, knowing your family might scream at you, if you didn’t come home early as usual. you were about to say yes until blinding lights made you yelp, steve muttered a curse as the lights flicked shut leaving you to see eddie’s van. him, hurriedly running up to you with a huff in his chest.

“you’re late.” you pointed out, a grin forming on your lips yet dropped seeing his face contorted into a sort-of uneasy look. what happened?

“you okay, edds?” your tone went soft, reaching out to him.

“yeah. yeah. i’m f-fine.” he huffed, glancing to steve now as he tip his chin in greeting. “harrington.”

“munson.” steve greeted back, flashing a tight lip smile as steve turned to you to part ways, patting your shoulder. “see you tomorrow, y/n.” he winked.

“goodnight.” you nodded at him as steve left the two of you alone in front of the store. eddie’s eyes bore the back of the former hawkins king, you squinted your eyes at him, suddenly aware of how weird he is today. well, he’s always weird but in a annoying way.

“you sure you’re okay?” you asked again, reaching your arm out to pull him close to you. your heart thumps again, the familiar fluttery feeling of having to touch him in such a caring way made you giddy. a whiff of a scent caught your our nose all of the sudden, his warmth overwhelming that you could distinctly smell some cheap perfume on him that had the notes of bubblegum or vanilla in it. huh.

you didn’t want to assume, but it definitely smelt familiar. a unruly thought escapes your mind, turning the mood sore instantly. was he just with carol?

“i’m perfectly fine.” he lied, biting the inside of cheek. “harrington’s seems quite close to you.”

what? you gaped, flustered what he’s saying. “because we’re co-workers, dumbass?”

eddie’s eyes shared no familiar amused glint, only pure seriousness you’d never thought you’d see in. him. you weren’t sure, if it were pure hatred or loathsome you could see in the disturbance of his expression. is he mad?

“yeah. co-workers.” eddie nodded, jaw moving to grit his teeth together. still clueless you are.

“uh…yeah.” you nodded awkwardly. he didn’t say anything else as he tore his gaze away from you, the closeness turning cold as he parted to hop in his van. ouch.

“asshat.” you mumbled, the hurt lacing your chest seeing him in a tantrum of some sort. you shrugged it off, the bile sadness taking over you how cold he suddenly is making the rest of the night all too uncomfortable until you got home.

•••

after that unfaithful night, everything became into this cruel blur you couldn’t understand. eddie hasn’t been going to your house to hang out or invite you some shit in hawkins. or now sitting beside you in same periods. all a change that you couldn’t understand what’s wrong. and you did the same. hating how it was happening. did you do something? did he discovered something or what? that made you fear if he ever discovered that secrecy of your likeness to him, was he disgusted at you? or just showing you that he doesn’t see you the same and that this pure friendship was crumbling apart now? gods, you were panicking.

“he’s ignoring me for days, rob.” you cried out, fed up that it had been roughly at least five days since the sudden change of his demeanor started. you had tried walking up to him one time, tried to talk to him like you always did but he just ended up in some fucking excuse he’ll leave quickly. you ignored him at the start of that.

“wait. i got some shit i just heard yesterday.” robin raised her brows, whispering beside you in the canteen. you sat next to her instead of the hellfire table, knowing the current situation is too uncomfortable to join them.

“oh?” you asked.

“apparently that chick carol’s been saying about some date she had with eddie the night she came into the store.” robin shrugged, not liking the way this was happening. everything froze.

“what?”

“she’s been running her mouth like crazy, dude. i didn’t know if it was true cuz eddie? eddie? she had a date with?” robin sighed. “thought she had something for steve but wow, eddie.”

wow. your jaw clenched, your cheeks flushed as anger flowed in your veins. all answers that very night you were suspicious of revealed. the jealousy turning in, making you clench your fists. trying to keep calm as you remained neutral, your throat constricted, wanting to cry this out. pathetic it maybe, you excused yourself for robin as you grabbed your backpack quickly, unaware one item had fallen out as you were about to pick it up.

“oh, gosh.” your eyes widened as a manicured hand snatched it before you could. the black exterior taunting you, your fucking diary! you glanced up, seeing carol in front of you with a grin plastered on her face. you gripped your bag, an uneasy feeling surfacing up as the whole canteen went silent.

“thank you. can i have it back, carol?” you faked a smile, opening your hand out for the precious notebook. she smirked, all hell went loose as robin uncomfortably shifted in her seat. uh-oh.

“no. i wanna read it! it’s your diary, isn’t it?” carol laughed, catching all attention of the students nearby. “gosh, you see, i don’t normally keep secrets but it’s so fascinating how you write it down. munson never spilled anything about you and i wondered why you’re so special.”

“carol.” you warned seeing her open it, you tried to grab it out of her hands but she instinctively step back, grinning venomously. her intent clear to embarrass you for no goddamn reason what you can think you have did to her.

“let’s see.” carol chuckled. “oh, here. i’ve been dying to read this part.” she cleared her throat out mockingly, raising her voice as all eyes were on the two of you.

“i haven’t been feeling well lately. everything seemed to change since eddie invited me that night to help him study for fucking math. sort of… he made a change of what i’m feeling for him—“

you ears ringed, no longer wanting to listen to her read the entirety of the catalogue. robin was shouting now to stop but carol kept going until waves of giggles and laughs erupted in the cafeteria. your eyes stung, tears pooling in your eyes. embarrassment and shame in the pit of your stomach as you couldn’t do anything but stand there. until a figure had been stalking up to where you stood.

“god, y/n! you’re such a romantic! pathetic you’ve been holding it for like what? a year?” carol laughed as she waved the book menacingly, you ignored her and hurriedly exited the room. tears dripping down your cheeks as robin shouted your name.

“what the fuck was that for?” eddie tutted in, grabbing carol’s wrist tight. the girl’s eyes widened as eddie snatched the notebook out of her hands. tucking it in safely before the girl could scold him. the entirety he heard of it.

“what? didn’t i do you a favor, munson? there! she likes—“ she laughed. “no, loves you and here i thought she got a thing for harrington.” she smiled wickedly, gloss taunting him to pull her by her over-hair sprayed hair. he was not one to hit a woman, but this provoked him.

“fuck off.” he pointed at her, one thing in mind to catch up with you as he left the scene as well.

“honey, y/n. come out.” robin knocked on the stall. you sat there, on the toilet bowl, messy tears dripping down to your chin as you muffled your sobs. wishing you’d bash your head somewhere and be gone from the world. until the door came banging on the wall making you jump.

“what the fuck, munson? this is a ladies room!?” robin yelled, your eyes widened. heart racing hearing footsteps come in.

“i need to talk her.” eddie pleaded, the other brunette still unsure whether to interfere but nodded seeing the sincerity in his face. better be. “thanks, buckley.”

shit. shit. shit! you panicked, hearing robin get out of the bathroom. you kept your mouth shut, afraid to make any noise. knowing what could happen next would be a complete disaster. you hugged yourself, trying to push in the pain you’ve been feeling and the neglect he’d put on for no reason. hot tears cascaded, you put a hand over your mouth to muffle the sniffles, pathetic it was.

“sweetheart.” eddie knocked gently, tone soft and quiet. “lemme see you, sweet thing.” he begged.

you didn’t respond. eddie let out a sigh, him a complete dickhead for ignoring you while you ignored him of that. it was petty to say, but he was jealous for the reasoning behind it. finally wanting to say it out loud now.

“listen, i know i’ve been a real shithead but um… i’m sorry. didn’t mean to ditch you. i got a little jealous, i guess—“ he continued his words of how the day he had the deal with carol was that the bitch didn’t meant to buy weed from him as he realized now. rather than talk him into getting an answer if you liked harrington. which was a total dumbass move he did when he blindly agreed to the girl to finally sell her the stuff after school and shit. and things went turbulent there when he saw you standing next to steve.

woah.

“it’s not that, edds.” you sniffled, not sure if he was telling the truth. “you heard what carol read on that fucking diary. don’t tell me this because you feel sorry for me.”

“it isn’t. i like you! i really do! please let me see you.” eddie urged, tapping the stall repeatedly. you sighed, standing up, wiping your tears as you roughly opened the door to see him in front of you. brows scrunched, lips pouty and red. probably from his lip biting. you sniffled as he pulled you into his arms. you sighed, not sure if you’d hug him back.

“aren’t you embarrassed for me?” you whispered against his chest.

“like i said. i fucking like you too. i love you.” he muttered the last part. loud enough for you to hear it. the seeping sadness still overwhelming the tinge of joy and hope you felt if this was really real. “shame you didn’t told me sooner.”

“mhm. really?” you looked up to meet his eyes. eddie’s heart almost stopped beating as your glassy eyes were like wonders for him. for so long he’d been dreaming what it felt like if you liked him. and now, wishing it was under better circumstances, he smiled as he kissed your cheeks.

“wanna be with you. swear it on my guitar.” he pecked your lips finally. your cheeks heated up as you looked away, shy now. was this real? was it really real?

“hundred percent real.” he whispered teasingly, as if he read your mind. your eyes widened as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears intact. you hugged him, loving his warmth and his familiar scent if cologne and cigarettes in your nose.

“atta, girl.” he chuckled, hugging you back as he sighed in relief. the feeling of content replacing the embarrassment you had. the sweetness a bliss before you glared at him, remembering he has to make up for it and thought of carol lingering your mind. needing to do something about it.

“you owe me a date, asshat.”

“will do!”

•••

“welcome!” steve greeted again for the seventh or tenth time today. carol came waltzing in, after her little proud fiasco she did, she was sure she could get a hit on with steve right now.

“hi, steve.” she waved her hand as if she was shy. steve smiled at her as usual, sure she was that the former loverboy had an interest in her. well he should! she thought, smiling proudly at him as she batted her eyelashes.

“hey, carol.” steve greeted back making the gal’s heart flutter how he remembered her name. “can i help you with anything?”

“yeah. was wondering if you got any… romance in there.” she smiled.

“yeah. plenty. i guess?”

“and if you’re willing to hang out with me after your shift.” she boldly added, leaning forward on the counter to stare directly at the working man. steve chuckled, clearly he was into her right? that winning smile and all just for her.

“well, carol.” steve let out a nervous chuckle again. smile dropping. “i don’t date with highschoolers… you know.” he shrugged as carol’s brow rose to the roof. the brow stencil almost coming off.

“well, you can always make an exception.” she tightly smiled again. god, was that creepy.

“and i don’t date heinous bitches who humiliate someone publicly.” steve trailed, not amused now after what she did. steve smirked as carol gaped at him, nervously chuckling as she started to ramble on but steve ignored her. “hey, if you’re not here for a movie. i suggest walking out, missy.” he pointed to the door.

“what the fuck!?” she angered, feeling oddly humiliated now when several people looked at her with a chuckle. the rejection stinging as she walked out of the store, not noticing you and eddie as she bumped your shoulder.

“watch where you’re going.” you commented as her eyes widened seeing the two of you together. eddie stuck his tongue out as she ran away. you laughed, scolding him for being that mean, he kissed your cheek lovingly. as both of you went in the store to see steve smiling proudly seeing the two of you.

“i owe you, man.” eddie placed a hand on his chest, looking as if steve did something so holy making the metalhead try to bear hug him. steve yelped, pushing him off. looking at you for help to get your annoying boyfriend off of him.

“yeah, yeah. stop fondling me— y/n!”

woooh. i think this fic is the longest i’ve written and the most fun. <3

[miyaagis]

˖ 🕷️ ˖˙ 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 ｜ 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲

piercing-tattooing / mitsuya takashi

nothing like a handsome piercer to take the pain away

—

+ word c. 763

+ warnings. needles, feminine pet names, dacryphilia, praise, reader with low pain tolerance, no explicit smut <\3

“first time?”

“y-yeah,” you stammered before clearing your throat, swinging your legs back and forth while you watched him prep the materials.

the bar going through his eyebrow caught your attention until you watched him swipe his tongue over his lips, toying with the ring hugging his rosy bottom lip. he turned around with an easy smile on his face and suddenly you were aware of the sweat dampening your palms. 

“which one first?”

“septum,” you said without missing a beat.

leaning forward, he lifted your chin so he could take a better look at your nose. he left a soft hum before pursing his mouth, “actually, i might need to pierce the nostril first so the septum doesn’t block its path.”

your heart galloped inside of your chest when he placed the needle above your skin, your eyes averting to the ceiling so you didn't have to watch it pierce through your nose.

“inhale… exhale,” a sharp pinch made your eyes water, a single tear rolling down your cheek before you could blink it away, “there we go, good girl.”

a fuzziness spread through your belly while you fought the embarrassment from showing on your face, not wanting to cry in front of the handsome piercer. 

but alas, your plan failed.

“i made you cry,” he frowned as soon as he noticed your watery eyes.

mitsuya had seen his fair share of tears and screams, finding each and every single one of them amusing; but yours made him genuinely feel bad. with a tissue, he dried your tears gently, making sure not to disturb the fresh piercing. 

your slight pout warmed his chest, the word 'cute' immediately echoing in his head.

his breath fanned your lips, lavender eyes focused on your face while you held your own breath at the proximity. one hand pressing the tissue against your skin while the other held onto your thigh, the gentle strokes of his thumb making your cunt throb.

“one more, okay?” he whispered once he was done, the softness in his tone melting your worries, “take a deep breath for me,” he could see your apprehensiveness, your tightly shut eyelids signaling this one was the one you feared the most. he wanted to kiss those worries away, “just one more, sweetheart. you can do it.”

another pinch and you could feel his fingers fiddling with your nose.

“did it hurt?”

after opening your eyes, you blinked a couple of times trying to comprehend what just happened, “no, i… that didn’t hurt at all!”

you were rewarded with the most handsome smile you had ever seen.

“you’re a pretty crier.”

“huh?”

his back faced you but you could see him taking off his gloves after putting the tray away. your stomach churned at his words and another throb pulsed between your legs.

he turned around to look at you, hands in his pockets as he stared at you, “makes me wanna kiss your tears off of your face.”

his straightforwardness almost made you choke with your own spit, but his slow, hunter-like steps were what caused your heart to leap all the way up to your throat.

“if you’re gonna be crying like that, i’d pierce your entire body just so i could see them again,” his fingers grazed the side of your face and you instantly melted at his touch. a low chuckle left his mouth as he leaned down to your eye level, “maybe push a thick bar through these nipples and have you crying on this chair, all while i push my cock through your pretty pussy.”

you couldn't give him a reply, his lips landing on yours in a kiss you weren't expecting. his hands groped your body, focusing on your tits as he rubbed your nipples with his thumbs. your legs opened to accommodate him between them, his front touching yours and making you grind against his erection.

"lie down, princess," with a hand on your ass he moved your hips forward before pushing your back against the seat, "you deserve a reward."

he trailed kisses all the way down to your hip, paying extra attention to your neck and chest before kneeling in front of your core after taking off your clothes.

"gonna be good and let me eat your pretty cunt, aren't ya?" 

"mhm!"

he stared at the wet patch clinging onto your pussy, tempting him to make it even bigger, "make sure to cry extra hard for me."

the jewelry adorning his lips was the last thing you saw before he buried his face between your legs.

[waywardrose13]

Night and Day

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4263

Warnings: Language, witch!reader, mentions and implicaitons of sex, angst, some fluff, not enough editing to satisfy me

Summary: You hid the fact that you were a witch from the Winchester brothers for years. After a run in with an old mentor of yours causes your secret to be revealed, the brothers find out that not only are you a witch, but one of the most powerful in the world. When Dean is given the task to kill you in exchange for his brother’s life, you must face the fact you lied to the man you loved- the same man who hates witches with a burning passion.

A/N: My tags haven’t been working lately. I’m going to put my tags in a reblog. Comment or shoot me an ask letting me know if you got a notification or not. Oh, and also- surprise!

“Dean, I’m serious. We gotta get up.”

You gently nudged at your boyfriend. A smile played on your lips as you felt his arms tighten around you. He whined and let out a long sigh.

“Five more minutes.”

“You said that twenty mintues ago,” you scoffed, smirking down at him. He groaned and lifted his head to look at you.

“You’re a joy killer,” he said. 

“A joy killer?” You asked. You raised a brow as your smirk grew. “Really?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Dean said.

“Right. Okay big boy, up and attem, let’s go. We’ve got that case in Ozark.”

Dean groaned again. “We just got back from a case two days ago.”

“Comes with the job description, honey,” you said. You swung your legs out of bed, placing your feet onto the floor. As you stood up, Dean suddenly wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you back down onto the bed. You squealed as he squeezed your sides, his lips latching onto your throat.

“Wanna stay here with you,” Dean said. He raised his head to kiss your lips. You ran your hand through his hair, his fingers running up your side, raising to cup your breast beneath your shirt.

“Dean, we don’t have time for this,” you said. He peppered kisses along your throat and collarbone, settling on the pulse point below your ear. “As much as I love doing this, we really need to get up.”

Dean halted his movements and lifted his head to scowl at you. He pushed himself up and off you, walking over to the dresser.

“Alright, fine,” he huffed. “Joy killer.”

***

“Of course, it has to be fucking witches.”

You winced at his words. You had been in Ozark for nearly a day now. After interviewing two of the victims who survived the attacks, you had also spoken to the detectives on the case before investigating the victims’ homes. The victims claimed to have been attacked by a shadow figure. The other three victims had been slaughtered in their homes, while the two survivors suffered severe lacerations and what seemed to be burns. You and the brothers were stumped for a while, until you found a hex bag hidden in a vase in one of the homes, and another hex bag stuffed in a couch cushion in the other.

You always hated witch cases. Not only were they dangerous, but they were also conflicting. You were a natural born witch, coming from a long line of witches on your mother’s side of the family. You had the gift of sight, also known as psychic abilities, and you had practiced witchcraft since you were thirteen.

When you had met Dean Winchester, it had been on a ghoul hunt. In those three days, you instantly felt an attraction to him that you couldn’t describe. You never thought he would be interested in you. You saw the women he’d frequent, and you weren’t like them. You were in shape, hunting keeping you fit, however you had some stretch marks, love handles, and thicker thighs than you would’ve liked. You also weren’t the prettiest woman in your opinion. You weren’t ugly, but you were always self conscious of the way you looked. You were sarcastic, cursed like a sailor, and reserved. You had always kept a wall around yourself ever since you were younger, sprouting at early ages due to things you had experienced and seen. You were twenty-four, a virgin, and a bit awkward at times.

Not at all Dean Winchester’s type.

But after meeting up with the Winchesters a few more times, you and Dean slowly became closer, until one night after a hunt, Dean had confessed his feelings for you. He was hesitant at first due to the ten year age difference, but your relationship had quickly blossomed. He was your first real relationship, the first person to ever be with you entirely, the first person to ever hold your heart.

Which is why you never told him about yourself.

Dean hated witches. It was a fact everyone knew. If you were to tell him that you were, in fact, a witch, he’d not only break up with you, but you were afraid he’d hunt you. Although you had never used your abilities for anything other than good, you weren’t entirely sure Dean would be able to trust you after you kept it from him for so long.

You were one of the most powerful witches in the world. Numerous covens have tried to recruit you, but you turned them all down. You were nomadic by nature, a free spirit, and you didn’t want to use your abilities to do someone else’s bidding. So you stuck to yourself. You kept off the radar and hoped your protective hex bags shield sigil tattoos worked. When Dean asked about the tattoos, you had simply told him they were more sigils for protection- like the anti possession tattoo. He believed you without a second thought.

“Okay, so now that we know what we’re dealing with,” Sam began. “We need to find out who. After doing some digging, I found that all of the victims attended the same addiction recovery group.”

“So you think the group is somehow linked to the murders?” Dean asked.

“It makes sense,” you said. “They all had this one thing in common. That’s what we always look for, right?”

“Right. There are only three people left in the group who have not been attacked. Since it’s a support group, anonymity is a requirement. But luckily for us, we have fake badges,” Sam said. “Marcus Wainwright, Brienne Tarly, and Astrid Waters are the only people who haven’t been attacked.”

You froze at Astrid’s name. You knew that name. She was the leader of a coven who tried to recruit you years ago. You turned them down because of the craft which they practiced.

“Who’s the leader of the group?” You asked.

“Uh…” Sam looked at the files. “Astrid.”

“I think it’s her,” you said. The brothers looked at you in question. You mentallykicked yourself. You said it before you could think. “She’s the leader, right?” You tried to cover yourself. “What if she used this group as a way to make sacrifices to whatever that shadow is?”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Sam said. “Carla, one of the victims I talked to today, said that Astrid would always try to get the group attendants to recruit more people. Apparently Astrid was always trying to bring more people into the group. Almost like she was obsessed with it.”

“She was trying to get more people to sacrifice,” Dean said.

“Exactly,” you said.

“Okay, let’s find this bitch.”

***

Astrid still lived in the same cottage as she did all those years ago when she tried to recruit you. Cobblestone walls covered in climbing ivy. Black shutters hung off the gothic windows. Various leafy plants grew around the sides of the house. The broken path led to a great wood door. The negative energy rolling off the house made you nauseous, and it took everything in you not to pass out.

You were only sixteen when you met Astrid, only just beginning to truly tap into your true potential when other witches began to feel your energy.

“You’re strong,” she had told you. “Stronger than me. You would be a valuable asset to any coven. A threat to witches below your strength. Others will want to harvest that power for themselves. We can keep you safe. I can keep you safe.”

You could feel her energy was dark. Her aura was an ominous black, a stark contrast from your pure white. You knew she was lying immediately. You threatened her. You were stronger than Astrid, and that pissed her off.

“I can fend for myself, thanks,” you had said.

Astrid had simply smirked at you, patting your hand gently. “We’ll see about that, my dear.”

You never thought you’d run across her again. You had hoped that you wouldn’t run into her again. Not only was she incredibly dangerous to you, but there was a high chance she would spill your secret, and you would not only lose Dean forever, but you would lose your life.

Swallowing back your fear, you trudged through the woods alongside the brothers. You knew you needed to do this. Innocent people were dying. If this was your last night on Earth, you wanted to be able to save them at least.

The three of you ducked below one of the windows. Dean peeked inside, trying his best to stay as hidden as possible.

“She’s in there,” he whispered. “She’s… at an altar. She’s chanting something.”

“Guess we found our witch,” Sam muttered. “Nice, Y/N.”

You gave him a weak smile.

Dean got up in front of the door, gun in hand. You and Sam waited for his call.

“Okay, on three,” he said.

“One… two…”

“Three!”

A new voice echoed around you, the door of the cottage violently swinging open, a gust of wind knocking Dean off his feet. Astrid’s cackle filled the air, and suddenly you began to feel woozy. Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, Sam falling down next to you. You knew it was Astrid, and you tried to fight it off, but soon succumbed to her power as well, your world going dark.

***

“How exciting!”

Head pounding, you awoke to the sound of a female’s voice. Trying to move, you soon found yourself unable to. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your limbs felt numb.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling of the cottage. Astrid’s silver head was bent over you, bright emerald eyes staring into yours, a crooked, elated smile on her face.

“My oh my, I never thought the day would come,” she muttered to herself. A long nailed finger stroked your cheek, and you flinched away.

“Don’t touch her, you bitch!” You turned your head at the sound of Dean’s voice. You smiled weakly immediately at the sight of him, finding yourself incredibly tired.

You felt drained.

You tried to move your hands, finding them strapped to the table you were currently laid out on. Your flannel had been removed, as were your jeans, leaving you in only a tank top and panties. You shivered in the cool air. You hated being exposed like this in front of anyone that wasn’t Dean.

“What are you doing?” You asked weakly. “Let me go.”

Astrid laughed. “Please. You fall right into my hands and you think I’m going to let you go?” She asked. “You’re smarter than that, little fox.”

 “Why are you doing this?” Sam asked. “Why did you kill all those people? Why did you sacrifice them?”

Astrid looked surprised. “Oh my, you’re a smart one, aren’t you?” She smiled at Sam, holding a mortar and pestle up over you. She crushed something inside, muttering a few incantations.

“The shadow makes me stronger. The more it's fed, the stronger I become,” Astrid said smoothly. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong witch. Stronger than your average natural born, much stronger. However, there are only two people in the world who are stronger than me.”

Astrid gave you a pointed look. 

“The shadow makes me stronger, as I said, but without the power of the other two witches, I will never be the strongest. If I were to siphon their energies from their souls, I would be the strongest witch there ever was and will ever be.”

“Pretty egotistical, eh there, granny?” Dean said. Astrid sneered at him.

“You’ll be the first one to die once I’m done with her, honey,” Astrid said.

“That is if I don’t kill you first, sweetheart.”

“If you only knew what I would be capable of,” Astrid snapped. “One witch has kept herself hidden. The Scottish bitch never can be found.”

“Rowena,” Sam said. 

“Oh, you know her?” Astrid said. “Yes, Rowena. Now, the other witch. Well, I met her years ago. She was just a wee lass of sixteen at the time, but she was already so strong. I knew she was going to be a problem for me. I tried to recruit her to my coven, but she was smart. Too smart. I’ve been trying to track her down for years, and I’ve never been able to find her.”

Astrid let out a dreamy sigh. “And then, by the grace of God, she fell right into my hands.”

“If you’ve already killed her, why take the souls of innocents?” Dean asked.

Astrid scoffed. “Oh no, dear. I haven’t killed her yet.”

“Well what’s the hold up? One less witch to worry about. You’ll stop killing innocent people.”

Astrid laughed. She looked down at you. “No idea how you’ve been with the man as long as you did. If I heard that, I’d run for the hills. Or stab him in his sleep.”

“Don’t touch him,” you hissed. Astrid grinned.

“There’s that fire,” she said. She smeared the green paste she made over your chest. You let out a small cry as it burned your skin. She painted a pentacle on you, muttering more incantations.

“Unfortunately, to siphon all of a witch's power, the siphoner cannot kill the siphonee,” Astrid said. “Someone else has to do it after I prepare her, then I could siphon it.”

“Well let’s make you a deal,” Dean said. Your lip wobbled. “If I kill the bitch, letting you siphon her power, you will never kill another person.”

Astrid smiled wickedly. “Really?”

“Sure. One less witch and we save some people.”

Astrid laughed. “Oh that’s too good. I’ll make a blood vow. If I break it, I die.”

“Fine.” Dean nodded at her.

“Give me your word, hunter,” Astrid said.

“I give you my word.”

“That no matter what, you follow through,” Astrid continued.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, fine.”

“Dean,” you said softly. A tear leaked from your eye. “Please.”

He looked at you curiously. Astrid cut his bindings, letting him free.

“He’s not the brightest bulb, is he?” She asked you, laughing.

“Where do I find her?” Dean asked.

Astrid handed Dean a knife. It had a curled handle, various sigils carved into it. She stepped back, folding her arms over her chest. 

“Go ahead.”

“You deaf?” Dean asked. “Where do I find the bitch?”

Astrid smirked, running her tongue over her lips.

“Right in front of you.”

The blood drained from Dean’s face. Tears streamed from your eyes now, leaking down your temples onto the wood beneath you. Astrid killing you was one thing. Dean killing you? There was nothing worse you could think of.

“Y/N?” He said. “No fucking way. She’s not a witch.”

“Isn’t she?” Astrid asked. “Go on, Y/N. Show us a little trick.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing this was all a dream. Wishing that you would wake up and you’d be back at the bunker in Dean’s arms.

But when you opened your eyes, Dean still stood there, that curved knife in his hand, Astrid’s evil grin plastered on her face, a shocked Sam watching from his confinement on the wall.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“If you don’t show him-” she walked over to Sam, hand on his head- “I blow his brain apart.”

You took in a shaky breath, eyes focusing on the windows. Suddenly, your eyes glowed purple, and the windows shattered. The glass floated up into the air, spinning around and around, wind whipping everyone’s hair. It only lasted a few moments, and when the glass stopped spinning, a heart floated six feet off the ground. It slowly moved towards Dean, and once it reached him, you blinked, eyes going back to their normal E/C, the heart falling to the ground, glass shattering once more, mimicking your own heart.

Dean looked up at you in shock.

“You did that?”

“It’s her best party trick,” Astrid said. “Y/N here is an artist. Unless, of course, she’s blowing a werewolf to pieces with a simple flick of her wrist, or growing a thirty foot tree with the blink of an eye.”

“No,” Dean said lowly. “You lied to me.”

“I was afraid,” you said. “You hate witches. I thought you were going to kill me.”

“You fucking kept this giant ass secret from me!” He yelled. “You lied to me for years! All that time we’ve been together, you’ve been fucking

“Dean, please-”

“How do I know anything you said was true?”

“It all is! You know everything about me, Dean! I just never told you this!” You urged. “Please, Dean. You know me. You know I’m a good person.”

“I don’t know shit,” he hissed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“What?” You asked.

“Have you ever killed someone?” He snapped.

“No! I’ve never-”

“Eh, eh, eh,” Astrid said. “Don’t lie to the poor man anymore, Y/N.”

You let out a sob. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” Astrid exclaimed. “Bursting a man into flames was an accident? Killing a father of four was an accident?”

“Yes!” You said. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know how to control myself, I-”

A sharp pain suddenly seared inside your head. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked. Astrid grinned.

“Punishing her,” she answered calmly. You screamed as the pain became so intense, white flashed behind your eyes and your whole body went rigid.

“Stop!” Dean yelled.

The pain was gone instantly. You panted, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, sweat mixing with your tears.

“Slit her wrists, Dean,” Astrid whispered. “You swore.”

Dean took the few steps he needed to be right next to you. He looked at the knife, then at your wrist, then at your face.

“Won’t she just heal herself?” He asked.

“Those cuffs around her wrists contain sigils that will prevent any self healing or harm to another person,” Astrid said. “It limits her power. It’s why she hasn’t broken out yet.”

Dean swallowed thickly. He looked at you, eyes searing deeply into your own. An anger burned behind the green you loved so much. It scared you. That anger had never been directed towards you before. 

But there was something else as well. Despair. Dean was torn. You were a witch, a powerful one, and you had lied about it for years. On the other hand, Dean was in love with you. He loved you so much, it scared him.

“Do it,” Astrid said. “Do it, or I kill him.”

She was bent down beside Sam now, lips near his ear, eyes burning purple. Dean looked between you and his brother. You knew he’d never choose you over Sam.

“Do it,” you whispered. You nodded at him, giving him a soft smile. “It’s alright.”

“How can you say that?” Dean asked. 

“I’ll find my way back to you someday,” you told him. “If not, I’ll simply wait for you.”

Dean bit his lip. “I wish you had told me.”

“I thought you were going to kill me,” you admitted. He shook his head, leaning against the table. He cupped your cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear.

“Baby, you’re a good person,” he said. “Sure, I hate witches.”

You winced.

“But I could never hate you.”

You blinked a few times. “Even though I’m-”

He pressed his lips softly to yours. His eyes were misty, brows pulled together. 

“I could never hate you,” he whispered against your lips.

“Do it, Dean!” Astrid urged. “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Dean, don’t do it,” Sam said. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’ll wait for you, my love.”

Dean shook his head.

“Five seconds,” Astrid warned.

“I love you, Dean. It’s okay,” you whispered. 

Dean looked down at the knife in his hands. He caressed your wrist, bringing the knife down against your skin.

“Three seconds!”

He gave you one last look, moving the knife back-

“Two-”

He jerked the knife-

“One!”

You expected the sting of the blade, but only felt the release of the cuff. 

“Man, you should have had some sort of spell on that shit,” Dean said. He smiled darkly at you, giving you a wink. Using your other hand, you flashed your eyes purple, burning the other cuff off.

“No!” Astrid yelled. “What have you done?”

With a simple flick of your wrist, Astrid was flung away from Sam. She crashed into the opposite wall. You slipped off the table, bare feet hitting the cold floor. A wind blew through the cottage, blowing your hair back from your face. You stalked towards her, all the while a smirk grew on your lips, your fingers tingling.

“I haven’t let myself go in so long,” you said. You lifted your hands, seeing the purple glow in your palms and beneath your fingertips. You cocked your head. “All this pent up energy…”

“Y/N-”

“It’s almost like snapping a rubber band,” you muttered.

“Y/N,” Dean said slowly. 

Using a blast of power, you forced Astrid’s arms against the wall. Keeping them there, you raised her up until her feet dangled off the floor. You did the same to her ankles, the strain causing her skin to bruise immediately.

“Y/N, wait-”

You forced her head back, a sickening crunch resonating inside the cottage.

“So much power… can be dangerous,” Astrid gasped. Blood dribbled from her mouth and nose, pouring out of her eyes like tears. You forced more pressure upon her, crushing her further. “I was your mentor once… don’t let it consume you… keep your soul pure…”

You crushed her further, your brow raising slightly. You smiled wickedly at Astrid, a dark chuckle leaving your lips. “Rich coming from you,” you said.

“I let it consume me,” Astrid told you. “Don’t… follow in my footsteps.”

You hadn’t used your power like this in years, not since Astrid was your mentor. It sizzled in your veins and made you feel more rushed than ever. It was almost euphoric, the way your body burned with power, power that came from the Earth beneath your feet. 

You missed that feeling.

What you didn’t miss, however, was the creeping feeling of darkness. It would intrude your thoughts and darken your mind. The risk of using that much power was the potential that it could consume you, and you would flip darkside.

Like Astrid did.

“See you in hell.”

Using once last surge of power, Astrid let out a guttural scream as her whole body turned an odd shade of red, eyes nearly popping from their sockets, blood streaming from any open source, before she stopped moving.

Letting your power retract, she slumped to the floor.

Dead.

You blinked, letting your eyes return to their natural colour, turning to face Dean.

“You gonna kill me now?” You asked.

Dean swallowed thickly, giving you a small smile.

“No.”

“Why not?” You said. “I’m a monster, right? You hate witches. I am witch. Pretty self explanatory.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Dean said.

“You can’t pick and choose the monsters you kill and don’t kill,” you said. “You came here to kill a witch. I killed her, now it’s your turn.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Dean repeated.

You gritted your teeth, sighing deeply. “Fine.”

You walked over to Sam, looking over your shoulder at Dean. With a simple flick of your wrist, Sam was released from his bindings.

“Do it, Sam.”

“Why?” He asked.

“I haven’t let myself go like that in a long time,” you said. “I forgot how tempting it is to give in. I want to do it, Dean. You need to kill me before I do.”

“No,” he said.

“Do it!” You yelled. “Do you really want me to flip? You want me to become like her?” You pointed to the woman you had just killed.

“You won’t,” Dean said. “You’re not like her.”

“Yes,” you whispered. A single tear slipped down your cheek. “I am. I killed that man when I was sixteen because I almost let it win. Who knows what else I could have done if I did.”

“Then we lock you up in the dungeon,” Dean said. “And we bring you back. But you’re good, Y/N. I know you better than anyone.”

Your lip wobbled. 

“You still love me?” You murmured. “Even after finding out?”

Dean smiled warmly at you. He took your hands in his, massaging the backs of yours. “Sure, I was pissed you didn’t tell me. Still am, quite frankly. But you’re my girl,” he said. “I know you. I know the kind of person you are.”

“You hate witches,” you pointed out.

“Eh, maybe they’re not so bad,” Dean said, giving you a lopsided shrug. “I mean, I know this one witch. She’s pretty hot, really good in bed-”

“Dean!” You exclaimed, slapping his chest playfully. He laughed, kissing your forehead, bringing you into his chest.

“What can I say? What you did was pretty badass. Not my fault I’m into that.”

You shook your head. “Okay, big boy. If you’re not gonna kill me, let’s go home.”

Dean took a deep breath, leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

“Come on, Sabrina,” he said. You gave him a bitch face, making Sam laugh.

“Really?” You asked.

“Oh, I’ve got more,” he said. “Do you have a pointy hat? Or a broomstick? Were you always this color, or were you born green?”

“Yeah, this is gonna be a long ride home,” Sam muttered.

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[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: I’m With the Bassist

Reid Garwin x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,631

Warning:  contains physical intimacy and mature language

Summary: Your band is popular on the local music scene and one fan in particular has managed to catch your eye. One night, you take him back to the dressing room after a show and things get heated. 

Colored stage lights bore down of the band, illuminating them for the crowd’s sake but the heat had long since taken its toll. Even the crowd appeared damper than when the show first started.

Your cloth bracelets were glued to your skin and chaffed uncomfortably against your wrist with every stroke you played. The choice to wear a black top was a good one because it hid the patches of sweat well even though you felt soaked.

There was no such luck with your face—a trail of constant sweat had been trailing down the side of your face for the past hour and you suspected that the precise eyeliner you walked on stage was smudged. Hopefully, it was more of an artistic smear and not a case of you looking like a racoon, but there was no way to be certain.

Your singer’s voice trailed off as the song faded out and you strummed one last chord on the bass before ending. The crowd writhed in electric frenzy, riding a concert high and expressed their delight in different ways, most directing their energy into cheering but there were a few who opted to throw things on stage. Empty red solo cups and an assortment of men’s and women’s underthings, mainly.

The singer grabbed the mic and walked to the edge of the small bar stage. “Whoo! How’s everyone doing!?” Screams rang out in answer.

Your band was small-time only performing on the local circuit two to three times a week, but the fan base had been growing and there were always loyal faces that the venue being played on a given night.

Blue eyes in the front of the crowd caught your gaze for a second as you looked over the crowd.

Then the singer spoke again, pulling your attention back to the band. “Thanks for coming out, we love you. Honest! See you guys next week!”

The main lights turned on lighting up the inside of the bar with its usual dingy, yellow bulbs. Applause and cheers rang out once more from the fans as the band readied to exit.

Purposefully ignoring the audience, more specifically the front rows, you turned back to talk to the drummer while sliding your bass strap over your head to take the weight of the instrument off of your shoulders. The band threw quick waves to the fans, and the guitarist stopped to pick up a particularly silky pair of men’s boxer briefs with a coy smile, and then you all bustled to get to the dressing room.

Performing on stage for people was an addicting rush, for sure, but you liked having down time in the dressing room to come off of the adrenaline and go about your business privately.

First thing you did was get yourself to a mirror so you could clean up the mess around your eyes. Luckily, that night’s smeared make-up looked tastefully done and not like a clown rendition. Next, you redid your eyes so that they returned to their glory from the start of the show; a nice, sultry bass player look. A dash of lip color followed, but nothing so obvious that the rest of the band would notice that something was afoot.

You took your sweet time in the dressing room and one by one the other members left, until you were the last one in the room. A few minutes passed until you peeked out into the hall. Everyone was used to you taking your sweet time after shows so it wasn’t weird that you were still in the dressing room. Sneaking someone in was though, and you didn’t want to get caught in the act.

He saw you signal him from his position up the hall near the bathrooms and grinned, sauntering slowly towards you until he was within reach, at which point you hauled him into the room and slammed the door shut. The lock engaged with a click and you turned to scowl at him. “Could you have dragged your feet any slower? Someone could’ve seen you!”

“Are you really that embarrassed of me?” he pouted. “You’re gonna give me complex, babe.”

“You know that’s not true. It’s more like… I’m just trying to spare myself the roasting for as long as possible. They’ve never seen me with someone and they’re going to rag on me no matter who it is.”

“Even if it’s a fine specimen such as myself?” He puffed out his chest and pursed his lips in comical exaggeration.

“You’re lucky I like you so much Reid.”

Reid Gawrin, or ‘groupie guy’ as you had initially referred to him as, was a big fan of the band and had been coming to every show for three months straight. It was hard to miss him with that blond hair contrasting with his black beanie and intriguing tattoos that showed when he rolled up his sleeves or wore a loose collared shirt. And those blue eyes… it was easy to yourself in them.

He’d always made sure to stick around after shows so that he could chat you up and at first you figured he was just a groupie looking to score with a band member, hence his moniker ‘groupie guy.’ Not wanting to come off as rude you indulged him in conversation, but always kept your distance.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to try and sleep with the band, and to be honest, the band did end up in bed with some of them. Take your guitarist: she always managed to pick up the hottest women and men. It worked great for her but you wanted something more and weren’t going to take a chance on the guy, even if he was cute, if he was just looking for a hook-up.

And, who knows, maybe it had started out as purely physical attraction on his part, but the two of you had grown emotionally attached after a while too. It was the emotional side that had led to the current situation. Not officially dating, but no longer musician and groupie either. And that lack of a label wouldn’t stop you from finally getting intimate that night.

Reid picked you up with ease and you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands gripping your fleshly thighs as he pressed you between the hard brick wall and his body.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses onto the hollow of your neck. Your head titled back and hit the wall with a thud as he trailed upward with his nose so that he could kiss the soft underside of your chin.

“Yeah?” you panted with excitement. You knew what was coming next.

He nodded and finally kissed you on the lips, his tongue quickly gliding inside of your mouth with strong, measured licks. “Bassists are always hot.” Your eyelids drifted shut and you lost yourself to his ministrations, a warm cloud of pressure weighed down your muscles.

As soon as you moaned, Reid wasted no time in grinding his pelvis against yours, the friction from his belt buckle rubbing you just the right way to fire up a reaction in your core. You pulled back, panting and he chuckled at you trying to catch your breath. “You like that?”

He was obviously fishing for an answer but you weren’t so gone that you’d give into him just yet. You merely nodded your head and bit your lip at a particularly delicious thrust.

“Tell me you like it,” he pressed.

Still, you refused him and he took it as a challenge to get you to use words. He relaxed his hold your thighs so that you slid down the wall and ended up resting high on the leg he inserted in between yours. Now you were not only stimulated by his grinding, but also rode his leg whenever your hips, the added pressure making it harder to not give in.

Your will hung by a thread, ready to give at any moment. Then he upped the ante by reaching down the waistline of your bottoms into your underwear, his fingers skipping past teasing to directly touching you in your most sensitive place.

“Tell me. Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” you whined, your mind filled with pleasure.  

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re a good girl.”

His wandering nail-polish covered fingers reached down lower to cup your slit more fully and Reid purred when he felt a gush of wetness flow from you. “You liked that, huh? You like being my good girl.”

A nod. You weren’t used to this kind of dirty talk. Most guys are not good at it but Reid was. He didn’t give a shit what he said as long as it produced results and produced results it did.

“So wet,” he grinned as he slid a finger into you experimentally. “See, went right in you, just like that.”

A single black nail tipped finger soon turned into two and he was eager to caress your silky inner walls, scissoring his fingers into a v that stretched you nicely. “Shit, Y/N. Look how tight you are, you don’t wanna let my fingers go.”

You gasped, goosebumps raising on your arms. It was a good thing you were against the brick wall because you didn’t have the strength to support your head on your own. As it was, your head was still lulled to the side.

It took Reid capturing your chin in one hand to get you to straighten out. The other hand was removed from your pants and used to circle one of your wrists so that you were unable to turn away. He pressed his lips gently against yours, a stark contrast from the lewd things he had done a second ago.

He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes wild with adoration and desire. “Does my good girl want more?”

“Please,” you begged.  

“Do you need it?”

“Please!”

With a parting kiss, he dropped down to his knees and pulled down your pants and underwear with a single tug. Your shaking hands grasped his hair as he placed his mouth over you, the blonde strands wrapped around your fingers. His breath was warm and, unlike when he was kissing your mouth, his tongue was relentless against the bundle of nerves between your legs. Circling, laving, sucking. It all blurred together and you realized that you were in trouble. If it was this good with just tongue, how would it be when he actually put his cock in you?

You moaned just thinking about it. Your legs squeezed together in reaction to his excellent skills but he didn’t seem to mind being stuck down there. Time lost meaning; it was felt like it was passing too slowly and too quickly simultaneously.

Eventually, his mouth left you with a wet pop and he stood at his full height. Making direct eye contact, he popped the top button on his jeans open and kicked them off, his shirt and beanie following suit. He stepped forward and hooked one of your legs around his waist to make more space.

You settled your hands flat against his chest and that damn tattoo that’s been teasing you for the past couple of months is now completely exposed for your gaze. It vaguely registers that the boy is ripped. Like, six pack ripped, but it’s the tattoo that you couldn’t stop looking at. It sloped at the base of his neck and extended past his collar bone; it was mesmerizing.

“You like that one, don’t you?” he cooed, noticing your heated stare.

Blue eyes held yours as he rolled on a condom. He entered you in one sharp thrust, your core feeling stretched and full. A sound that you didn’t know you were capable of making poured out from your throat and you immediately raised hid your face.  

Logically, you knew pleasure was nothing to be embarrassed about, but you couldn’t help feeling like you needed to reign yourself in.

Reid pried your hands away from your face and kissed you while he continued to drive in and out.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he cooed. “I like your noises.”

Almost like his voice had control over your body, another whine left you. “Reid. I-I nee- I need…”

“What? Be a good girl and tell me.”

“More,” you cried out. “I need more.”

He picked you up entirely, both legs circling his waist and walked you over to the couch. Honestly, all of the furniture in the room was probably suspect given that all the bands used it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on it during that moment.

Your back hit the couch cushions and then Reid was back to swiveling his hips, his cock hitting just right. This new angle with you on your back, your legs hanging over his broad shoulders, had your cries rising in pitch and frequency.

The euphoria was suddenly interrupted with a sharp knock. Panic ensued you snapped to look at the door. Thankfully, it was still locked which meant that you wouldn’t get caught in a comprising position, but there was still the matter getting rid of whoever it was.

“Yo, Y/N. You still in there?”

You were about to answer when Reid cupped your right breast and bucked into you hard. Shocked, you looked up in disbelief, your mouth wide open with no sound coming out. He merely winked and did it again.

The second time a whine escaped you and another knock rang out. “Y/N, you good?”

Reid leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in your ear. “Better answer them, Y/N.”

You swallowed. Risk wasn’t something you considered yourself to be into, but was a lie to say you didn’t feel yourself getting wetter at the thought.

Hoping and praying that you would pull it off, you tried to talk but nothing came out but a croak. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “H-hey. I’m still here.”

“You good? Why’s the door locked?”

In an attempt to keep your voice steady, you closed your eyes and clung on tight to Reid’s shoulders. “Just changing. Locked it to be s-safe.”

That was the right thing to say cause the voice at the door immediately backed off with an apology and left the two of you alone.

“Good save,” he acknowledged. He slowed his hips slightly and reached down to circle your clit with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward.”

“Oh my—Reid.”

The ceiling came in and out of focus as Reid coaxed you to the edge at last. “Come on, Y/N. Say my name.” One well pressured flick to the small bundle of nerves did the trick and sent you flying, bucking like a high wire cable flailing wildly in the wind and chanting his name in a desperate prayer.

Your core clamping down on him sent him tumbling right after you with a drawn-out groan as he held himself deep inside you.

He dropped next to you on the couch, out of breath. “Shit.” He took a moment to compose himself and repeated his words. “Shit.”

You rolled your head to pin him with a teasing stare. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Oh, there was definitely a pussy involved.”

A weak slap landed on his chest. “Don’t use that word, you sound ridiculous.” Your favorite tattoo was within petting range and you kept your hand there, stroking it gently. The two of you settled into quiet bliss, content to cuddle into one another.

“That was a good one,” Reid finally remarked, stroking your arm. Exhausted, all you can do is nod against his toned chest. He hummed and you waited patiently for him gather his thoughts. “Think we can get another round in?”

_______________

Forgive me, for I have sinned 😂. Is it even good? I’m not sure but thanks to those who read it. Partly inspired by a conversation with @rpwithjayn​ but I made Reid the groupie instead of the rocker. Hopefully I did him justice for all of the Reid fans out there. 

[chocosvt]

connect!universe extra

⚬ pairing: cyborg!hansol x reader | future!au ⚬ word count: 6482 ⚬ warnings: alcohol consumption ⚬ genres: angst, heavy fluff, mutual pining, elements of a futuristic/dystopian society 

✧✎ synopsis: hansol is the first cyborg you’ve ever met. he seems human enough, but clearly a little damaged on the inside, and you wonder if he’s ever known what it’s like to be loved. 

✧✎ a/n: can you BELIEVE that this is only my second vern fic? he’s one of those members where i can think of multiple plotlines for him, but struggle in writing all. i’ve wanted to try a cyborg/futurey au since like three yrs ago lol, so i hope this came out well ,,,, 

You poked the plastic spoon further into the cold cup, trying to search for a small chunk of strawberry buried under the soft, vanilla peaks. In actuality, you already purged all the strawberries out from the ice cream; you were only pretending to look occupied so that you could escape the awkward aura of being next to this cyborg you met an hour ago, the two of you sat on a ridiculously uncomfortable curb outside a dessert parlor, beneath the midnight sky. It was an unorthodox situation. You wondered where your friends went.

From the tentative corner of your eye, you glanced at Hansol’s half-emptied cup of cookie dough ice cream. The parlor behind you had closed down, though the night street still flooded with a twinkling, neon spectacle, the additional hovercraft humming high above as they travelled along the aerial space-paths. You continued staring at Hansol’s cookie dough. If it had been Changkyun or Yoojung sitting next to you, then you would have already dipped in your spoon and tasted each other’s ice cream as tradition. It would be too weird to ask Hansol.

Scraping some vanilla ice cream onto your tongue, you swallowed thickly and decided to initiate conversation again, even if it was just prevaricated nonsense to beat the time.

“Is cookie dough your favourite flavour?” You questioned Hansol, though stared at the loose laces on your sneakers rather than him.  

Hansol started shaking his leg as he shrugged. “I like chocolate too. And cheesecake.”

“So you have a sweet tooth?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Okay – well that was officially the dying spark of another conversation. You were uncertain if he was anxious, shy, perhaps socially awkward, or maybe he was attempting to signal that he just didn’t like you. It was quite rare to encounter a cyborg. Ever since you could remember, they had an uncordial notion of being dangerous, sinister. They were meant to be contained in laboratories as a government order, so technologists could perform their invasive studies. You didn’t know if Hansol was an escapee or a discarded project, nor was it your place to ask.

The strawberry ice cream was beginning to melt into pink and white puddles the more you stirred. One last time, you attempted to maintain some sort of conversation with the cyborg.

“So where do you live? I’ve never seen you around before.”

That time, you made the effort to stare at him, a hazy and violet light bathing the sharp side of the boy’s face and igniting features you hadn’t noticed beforehand. His eyelashes were long, resembling gentle fern leaves, and he had a very strictly cut line defining his jaw. Through the coarse layers of his dark brown hair, you noted small, inked numbers were tattooed just in front of his ear, though you pretended you hadn’t been looking there when he faced you.

“I don’t have a place.” Hansol said nonchalantly, poking the spoon into his cookie dough. “I’m kind of a floater.”

Your eyes widened, though you couldn’t help it.

“Really? But you do have a job. You’ve never tried renting a motel room or something?”

He shook his head and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. From what Yoojung had told you, Hansol worked with her at her dad’s auto-repair business, prompting you to wonder if she knew the boy was homeless. Knowing he wasn’t surrounded by the comfort of a family had already caused a pulsing ache in your heart, and you felt somewhat obliged to help.

“Does Yoojung know?”

Hansol hesitated slightly, licking the sweet taste of the ice cream from his lips.

“No.” He finally answered in a torpid manner.

There was a stiff bit of silence, and then the boy was looking directly at you, his knee and elbow so close to yours that they kept bumping together. His eyes, which were usually as brown as a square of dark chocolate, were suddenly beaming in a shade of ice blue. You had never seen such a thing before, and yet you could sense the anxiety rippling from him in invisible waves.

“You aren’t going to tell her, right?”

Your throat felt incredibly dry as you shook your head, heightening your desire to stick a large spoonful of softening strawberry swirl in your mouth for some form of moisture.

“If you haven’t told her then I won’t either.” You replied, making sure to maintain eye contact.

Immediately, Hansol relaxed, the ice blue that glowed from his gaze slowly fading away until the familiar brown replaced it. Even though you assured Hansol his secret was safe, it didn’t thwart your disquieting feelings from echoing throughout your chest, though you attempted to swallow them with the pink dessert that just liquidized onto your tongue. You two continued eating in silence underneath the white stars, Changkyun and Yoojung still nowhere in sight.

“Y’know,” you began quietly, “we just met and all that… but I definitely wouldn’t mind if you stayed at my place for a few days. And I wouldn’t let Yoojung know a thing.”

For the first time that night, you saw the faint beginnings of a smile pull at the boy’s lips, and despite him staring straight at his sneakers you managed to catch a glimpse of rose light emanating from his eyes. He didn’t look at you until the pretty hue completely died away.

“I don’t want to bother you.” Hansol admitted, his gaze tracing your warm expression.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t. It’s just me and a powder puff cactus I bought last month.”

It took a couple of seconds or so, but the boy eventually nodded, and an immense relief toiled away the discomfort that earlier plagued your chest. The air no longer felt so awkward, in which you had been pointlessly scavenging for strawberry slices in your ice cream just to feign some degree of distraction. In fact, you made an offer you would have never anticipated when your night with the cyborg first began: you asked Hansol if he wanted to try your strawberry swirl.

“Okay,” he obliged, “wanna taste some cookie explosion?”

You switched cups and scooped some of his cookie dough ice cream. There weren’t any cookie chunks left amongst the chocolate-vanilla mixture, and you wanted to laugh upon thinking that he must have been doing the same as you.

“You’re walking home with him? Are you sure…? Are you sure that’s like, a good idea?”

Your face quickly warped into an expression of bewilderment as you stood across from Changkyun, who was clearly apprehensive to have Hansol walk you home. That was the fake story you told your friends, and you had expected it to pass with flying colours, though you came to a roadblock due to your ex-boyfriend seeming petulant. Yoojung was close with Hansol therefore she depicted no air of disagreement. She gave Changkyun a steely side-eye and partly stepped on his foot.

Folding your arms over your chest, you cocked your head. “What are you implying, Changkyun?”

The young man dug his hands into the deep pockets of his coat and gave a casual shrug, his gaze following a distant hovercraft that whirred quietly in the skies above.

“I’m just saying that—”

“He’s saying I’m not safe.” Hansol cut in, though not with any contempt or bitterness. “I understand. Not the first time I’ve heard it.”

The rebut locked onto your tongue was instantly forgotten, to which you glanced at Hansol with a soft sympathy. He was awfully calm, not upset, not angry, just calm.

Yoojung groaned loudly, throwing her head back. “Oh, for crying out loud. Changkyun, he’s not some lump of artificial intelligence that got thrown together by a mad scientist and now he’s out to obliterate mankind. He’s a good kid with some bionics in his arm. Get over it, would you?”

A scarlet colour mottled in the apples of Changkyun’s cheeks and he dragged a hand through his slick black hair, disrupting its style. You looked to Yoojung appreciatively, who was already beginning to wind her arm around Changkyun’s elbow so that you could be on your separate ways. It was an hour past midnight, a thick drowsiness resting just behind your eyelids, blurring the purple-blue neon lights. A part of you still loved Changkyun, yet the other often festered in uncertainty.

“Goodnight guys.” Yoojung said with a tired smile.

“Night.” You and Hansol murmured in unison.

When Changkyun remained silent, Yoojung stepped on his foot again with her red sneaker.

“G-Goodnight.” He was forced to mumble. Changkyun then looked at you, nodding at the slim cellphone tucked in your hand. “Text me when you get home.”

“Okay.” You replied in a small, plain voice, chewing on your bottom lip while watching them walk away down the street together.

The guilt was bubbling like a disastrous magma beneath your skin, continuously growing hotter as you introduced Hansol to the couch in your living room. Changkyun certainly didn’t represent your own morality, and you were still a little overwhelmed that he would make such a piteous remark, especially to Hansol’s face. Maybe it came from a place of care, affection, perhaps even jealousy. The person who made that comment wasn’t the Changkyun you knew, the Changkyun you loved, and you felt obliged to apologize on his behalf, despite knowing it should come him rather than you.

Hansol sat down on the couch while observing curiously around the room. You couldn’t help but think he was adorable, and you wondered if Yoojung was telling the truth about the bionics in his arm. For his eyes to adapt sensory colours, you knew he must have a chip implant too.

“Sorry, no extra clothes.” You told Hansol after handing him a fleece blanket and a pillow.

As he fluffed the pillow out against the arm of the couch, you sat down on the coffee table.

“I just want to apologize… For what Changkyun said. He’s not that type of person, I think he made a comment like that because it’s still a bit weird between us, and he wasn’t using his head.”

Hansol’s indifferent countenance made it difficult for you to read if he was truly offended. He seemed like the easygoing type, one who doesn’t ruminate or tend toward conflict.

“Yoojung kind of filled me in about you guys,” he admitted, shaking his knee, “Changkyun still worries about you. I get it.”

You stared into the clasped hands on your lap, noting that you’d been unconsciously playing with the gems on your bracelet. It seemed like you both had your nervous ticks.

“Breakups are weird,” you sighed, “I don’t know if we should have stayed friends.”

Out of the blue your body grew rigid, and you wished to retract the words back into your mouth. Your relationship dilemmas weren’t something that should be pushed onto Hansol, a boy you just met, especially a matter so individualistic and personal. Rubbing the bleariness from your eyes, you let out a sleepy laugh, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that – It’s getting too late for my brain I guess.”

Hansol shrugged. “It’s fine. I should tell you I have to get up early tomorrow, for work.”

Conveniently, the auto-repair shop was within walking distance. You were happy that Hansol had been able to find employment, that Yoojung’s dad was kind enough to hire a cyborg, even when they were ultimately spurned for being metal projects and safety hazards.

You stopped tugging on your bracelet and looked at Hansol fondly. “Mr. Choi is so nice, right? He fixed my electro-board when I was little.”

Hansol sprouted in a timid smile. “He’s great. He’s the one who always fixes the circuit panel in my arm when it bugs. I couldn’t control it if it weren’t for him.”

Undeniably you were curious about what sort of bionics had been installed in Hansol’s body. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence to meet a cyborg, though you frequently heard tales about the different technology the laboratories were practicing. Androids were also in maintenance; however, they were a very clandestine operation, and people were known to disappear completely if they leaked information from inside the core. Still, it only fuelled your intrigue.

“Let me guess,” Hansol said, “you want to see my arm, don’t you?”

“Um…” Heat pricked into your cheeks and you failed to meet the boy’s knowing glance. “Only if you want to show me.” You responded bashfully.

“I don’t care,” Hansol huffed while he pulled his hoodie above his head, letting the fabric drop into a ball beside him on the couch, “you’re nice about it.”

Hansol placed the underside of his arm atop his leg, revealing that underneath the thin, synthetic layer of skin, there were bright circuit pathways glowing in different colours. You could see small signals blipping through them, passing onto other networks which travelled up his muscle until they disappeared under his shirt sleeve. Never had you witnessed anything so mesmerizing, so unparalleled, and you stared at Hansol’s arm in a childlike wonder.

Leaning forward slightly, you murmured, “how hard it is? Can I touch?”

“Yeah.” Hansol replied, regarding you with a gentle smile as your fingers pressed down cautiously on his forearm.

His skin was soft, warm, just like ordinary flesh, but then you immediately felt the metal bionic installed beneath and you became somewhat frightened of pressing too hard. There was one particular circuit that started at his wrist, which glowed in a pale lavender hue. You saw a tiny current fire from its sensory orb, and gently, with your fingertip, you traced the signal overtop Hansol’s skin until it faded away at the crease of his elbow. You sat back in awe and smiled.

“That’s amazing. They’re like veins.”

“Yeah, I thought that too.” He agreed.

The boy’s eyes were ignited in a sweet, bubblegum pink. You could only assume that pink had something to do with being flustered, or maybe a fast heartbeat. When you giggled, his cheeks flushed rosy like a cherub’s and Hansol stared straight down into his lap.

“I love how your eyes change colour,” you reassured him delicately, “you shouldn’t hide it.”

Hansol thanked you in a quiet voice, to which you could sense that he was nonetheless embarrassed.

“How does Yoojung’s dad get access to the panel?” You asked, changing the subject.

“I have to open it for him, like this.”

You jolted backward on the coffee table when a translucent, blue screen suddenly projected from the boy’s eyes. It was lined with unintelligible runes and peculiar symbols you had never seen before, some of which flickered by so quickly you didn’t get the opportunity to differentiate them. Somehow, Hansol was navigating his way through the code by controlling a box that highlighted certain text. Upon selecting the correct sequence, there was a tiny beep.

A rectangular section of Hansol’s forearm was outlined in red. Like a safe door, it automatically swung open, uncovering a dense and intricate network of wiring, panels, and metallic instruments that made you feel anxious just looking at them. You couldn’t fathom something so complex was resting beneath Hansol’s synthetic flesh, even as you stared into the thick of it. He didn’t keep the panel exposed for long, and in the next minute Hansol’s arm was restored.

It felt like someone had just crushed your brain between their hands.

“What do people say when you show them that?” You chuckled.

Hansol grabbed the fleece blanket and started pulling it over his lap. He paused for a second, biting his bottom lip.

“I’ve never shown anyone else, apart from you and Mr. Choi.”

However, he didn’t seem interested in delving further on what just happened. Instead, Hansol thanked you for letting him stay for a few days, then wished you goodnight as he got comfortable on the couch. Once you were tucked into bed, you grabbed your phone off its doc station and started texting Changkyun to announce that you made it home safely. Afterward, you slowly dozed off with a strange feeling in your chest and tummy, sort of like butterflies.  

Except they weren’t because of Changkyun.

With Yoojung’s arm wound firmly around your lower back, she helped walk you to the front porch, ensuring that your ankle wouldn’t suddenly capsize as she prevented you from haphazardly stumbling in your drunken haze. It was Changkyun’s birthday, and to celebrate, a large congregation had swarmed the downtown club, marking a night that was already beginning to fizzle from your memory. Yoojung never drank alcohol. She had always been the one at your side to nurture any incoming hangovers, though she wouldn’t be available for the weekend.

Instead, she had a Maglev train to catch bright and early the next morning. Her parents lived apart, and for the whole month she’d be away at her mother’s house.

Yoojung grabbed the spare key you kept under a flowerpot to unlock the door.

“Text me tomorrow.” She advised. “Tell me if you’ve puked your guts out or not.”

“G’night, sexy.” Your words spilt out in a jumble. You still felt like you were floating.

Pressing your hand against the wall, you fumbled to remove your shoes. You deserted your jacket in a clump that sat on the foyer floor and proceeded to stagger into the living room. Hansol occupied the couch, scribbling in his notebook. In the beginning, the boy was only supposed to stay for a few days. Two weeks had passed and he was still with you. For some reason, you didn’t possess the heart to see him go, and while you knew he felt guilty extending his welcome, you believed his presence was becoming an integral part of your life.

Changkyun had invited him to the club, though Hansol politely declined, instead wishing him a happy birthday over the phone. Whenever the boy wasn’t working at the auto-repair garage, he was extremely attached to a black, faux leather notebook with sallow-stained pages. You never asked what he wrote about, thinking it might be something like a personal journal. Upon seeing you at the threshold to the room, Hansol bloomed into his usual faint grin. There was still a thorough concoction of liquor in your blood and a black raspberry flavour burned your throat.

You wobbled toward the couch, mumbling in your garbled vernacular about how elated you were to see him after such a tiresome and long night.

Collapsing next to him, you rubbed tightly into your eyes and started humming.

“Need me to get you anything?” Hansol offered kindly.

Cracking one eye open, you glanced at the boy before bursting into intoxicated giggling.

“Oh, nonono, dn’worry about it. M’fine, Hansol. So, so, so fine.”

“You’re smashed. You should get some rest.” He suggested the most logical option, staring at you slumped deep into the cushions from over his shoulder.

But then you sat up, stretching your arms high into the air until you felt the muscles shake. Your hand fell on the boy’s shoulder, and you looked through your clouded gaze into the beautiful, rich earth of Hansol’s eyes. He tensed ever so slightly at being in such a new proximity to you, probably smelling the tangy alcohol straight from your clothing.

Placing your forehead on his shoulder, you slurred, “y’know, you’re r-right. I need to sleep.”

“I can help walk you to your ro—”

Hansol’s suggestion was merely cut in half as you raised your head from his shoulder, pressing your mouth to his in a soft, short kiss. He blinked like a clueless fawn, eyes rounded and glistering, unable to formulate a single thought let alone a sentence. If your veins weren’t engorged with fiery alcohol, then you certainly wouldn’t have kissed him, but in that heart-fluttering and completely sense-devoid moment, you didn’t have your rationality to guide you. His eyes quickly warmed to their adorable rose tint as you rested your head on his lap.

“Dn’wanna go to my room. M’gonna sleep here.” You purred, nuzzling into his thigh.

The boy completely froze. He didn’t know what course of action to take. Settling his notepad and pen on the arm of the couch, he saw you were already falling asleep.

“You’re so comfy…” you sighed, sensing the blackness pull you deeper. 

Hansol gulped tensely, “y-you really don’t want your bed?”

“No.” Your brow slanted, and you glanced up at the boy with a misty, intoxicated film in your eyes, your cheek smudged rather cutely against his firm thigh. “Just want to lay here, w’you. Please, Sollie? Do you not want me?”

Hansol’s gaze had never shone such a vivid shade of pink. 

“N-No, I do— I mean! I-I don’t mind,” he tripped over his words and ran a nervous hand through his hair, “you can stay there. It’s fine.”

You chuckled in a tipsy, bubbly adoration upon watching Hansol falter. “Y’re soso cute.”

“Do you want the blanket?” He quickly worked to change the subject. “So you don’t get too cold.”

“Yes please.” You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut while the boy grabbed the fleece blanket from the back of the couch.

The material was light yet warm as it was draped gently over your body, prompting you to curl into a ball with Hansol’s thigh pretending to be your pillow. You slurred a polite goodnight, feeling the boy’s gaze roam freely across your face. One of the last things you recalled hearing was a goodnight whispered back to you, though it was very quiet, sincere, alongside the scribbling of Hansol’s pen in his black notebook.

You dreamt that he was writing about you.

“Are you really sure? I feel like I can’t… It’s been a month already.”

Hansol wouldn’t stop fretting about his stay at your house, how he felt undeserving to be living with you, that it was eating him up inside knowing he was taking away a degree of your privacy. He was so inclined to confess his concerns that he hardly touched his warm cinnamon toast or slices of bacon, and you could hear the rapid motion of his leg shaking underneath the table. It hurt to see him like this. Neither Yoojung or Changkyun knew he was living with you, but if you truly wanted the boy to stay, then you would need to be completely candor and voice the reality.

Scaping the last bits of oatmeal from your bowl, you shook your head.

“This is working out, isn’t it? You’re so much safer with me. And I love your company.”

The boy leaned back in his chair, shoulders slumped with uncertainty and his eyes seeming distracted by antagonizing thoughts. You couldn’t help but think that Hansol wasn’t used to someone caring about him in the manner that you did.

“It would be awesome if you stayed.” You made another attempt to mitigate his worries. “The only thing is we would have to tell Yoojung and Changkyun.”

Hansol looked at you, the morning light that pierced through the cloth curtains igniting a golden flare in his eyes, and powdering his long lashes. Your cheeks started prickling just from staring at him. You always wanted to tell Hansol how beautiful he was, but you were too shy.

“I know.” He sighed, reaching for his glass of apple juice.

“Yoojung probably won’t care,” you knew that was a fact, “I’m not sure about Changkyun, though.”

Hansol would leave for work at the auto-repair within the next fifteen minutes, while you made plans the night before to help Changkyun shop for his new apartment. You weren’t exactly sure where you stood with Changkyun, or the direction your heart leaned toward. Whenever you were alone with him, he became the most endearing, sweetest version of himself – a complete charmer, engendering you to laugh so ridiculously hard that you’d choke on your own saliva or playing such a smooth move you’d feel your pulse quicken. He utterly confused your emotions.

To make the matter more conflicting, you still hadn’t forgotten your drunk kiss with Hansol.

He played the incident off casually, in a frivolous nature that helped erode the viscid layers of poignancy you were swathed in the next morning. Almost every night you thought about the kiss, addicted to the butterflies and the cottony feeling that would overwhelm your stomach.

“I should get going now.” You announced, slipping your jacket off the back of the chair.

A small, fainthearted grin appeared on Hansol’s mouth.

Underneath the table, you set your hand on the boy’s jumping knee. He instantly cemented, looking to you with still-water eyes.

“I just want you to know that I’m really glad you’re here. Seriously. You make my life better.”

Your heart was rippling like a kite caught between a harsh wind. After giving the boy’s knee a gentle squeeze, you rose from the table, left your bowl and utensils in the sink, and texted Changkyun to meet you at the hovercraft port next to Grand Station. Small, pearled tears were slipping down your cheeks as you kept a brisk pace along the sidewalk, though you hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of your jacket, pretending they had never fallen.

You were starting to think you were in love with Hansol.

A menacing and wrathful thunderstorm had developed overtop the city throughout the day, the cinder clouds completely swallowing any sunlight as they thickened and grew rotund with water vapour. The bullet rain didn’t start falling until the evening, and the booming reverberations of the thunder made it seem as though the sky was splitting itself apart. Your mother used to say it was the angels bowling, and it thundered each time they hit a strike.

Around ten-thirty at night, you grabbed a quick glass of water from the kitchen and wandered into the living room, wanting to see Hansol before you went to bed. However, he didn’t pay any attention to you. He was looking out the rain-splattered windows and into the darkness, where the thunder still roared barbarously. When you sat next to him on the couch, he sensed how the cushions slightly dipped, the boy jerking in surprise upon noting your presence.

Taking a drink of water, you mumbled a muffled “are you okay?” while eyeing him skeptically over the rim.

He shivered, brushing his own arm. “I dunno, I hate thunderstorms.”

Suddenly, there was a harsh, almost deafening crack that echoed from the sky. The lights flickered for a transient moment until the aftershock faded away.

“S-See what I mean?” Hansol stuttered, his eyes glowing in a lambent, soft-tinged blue.

Your heart immediately pined for him, and you experienced an urge to tuck him away in your pocket so he couldn’t be harmed. After setting your water glass on the coffee table, you offered a tenacious solace that made your palms dot with moisture.

“If you want, you can sleep with me in my bed—I mean! not like, sleep with me, but just—we’re both sleeping and nothing else, is what I’m trying to say…”

You internally wilted and admonished yourself for making the request so painfully awkward. To your relief, Hansol chuckled innocuously at you.

“I didn’t think you meant it like that,” he admitted, his eyes flitting from blue to an orchid pink, “If it’s okay, then I’ll do it.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “It’s completely okay.”

At first, neither of you could fall asleep, instead staring blankly at the shadows of the popcorn ceiling while raindrops pelted against the glass. You two attempted keeping as much space as possible between you, for even the slightest brush of your leg or arm rendered you both to instantly recoil and spew apologies. At a little past eleven o’clock, your eyes were fluttering open in response to a particular sound. It was Hansol’s leg again, shaking beneath the covers.

Turning your cheek into the pillow, you faced him with aid from your alarm clock light.

“Your leg is going like crazy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hansol looked at you, gulping tautly.

“My leg does this all the time. I-I can’t help it. It’s harder to control the bionics there.”

“You have bionics in your leg too?”

“Yeah, mostly in my knee, some in my shin.” His expression was apologetic. “I’m sorry, you can’t sleep because of it, right?”

Hansol held his breath when you grabbed his hand beneath the covers.

“I don’t care.” You promised him, calmly stroking the ridges of his knuckles.

A few moments passed where you simply observed the dark slopes and outlines belonging to each other’s faces, your breaths slowly beginning to synchronize as the raindrops softened against the window. Tentatively, you touched the side of Hansol’s cheek, your thumb running just below the warm, silk skin of his eye, treating him akin to a fragile art piece. You could sense the rigidity within him dissipate like mist, especially as he moved closer to you, pushing his head into your chest. An intense fluttering sensation immediately consumed your lower-tummy.

“Will you please hold me?” He mumbled in his husky, tired voice, his ear settled right over your thumping heart. “I always sleep better when I think about you holding me.”

“O-Of course.” You stuttered, rather taken aback.

That was the first time he had ever been so forward with you.

You fleshed your fingers deep through the boy’s brown locks, feeling the thick, velvet-like strands wrap around each digit and tickle your skin. Continuing to softly coax down his scalp, you brushed against a hard, plastic slit near the back of his nape, and realized it must be the area where Hansol’s sensory chip had originally been inserted. His leg was no longer shaking, and you felt the rhythmic pattern of his breaths against your chest. In the darkness, you could properly see the small circuits that dimly glowed beneath his eye and ran across his cheek.

Under your breath you murmured, “you’re so pretty.”

Almost immediately, the circuits lit up in a deep shade of fuchsia, and you could just see the boy’s mouth twitch coyly. Your entire body, head to toe, flushed with warmth as Hansol only turned his face further into your chest, attempting to hide the sappy blush staining his cheeks. He was inexplicably more than just pretty, Hansol was precious, and you wished to keep him pressed against your side so that the cruel world may never wrap its hands around him.

About a week later, you met with Yoojung at the internet coffeeshop. She had recently returned from her stay at the opposite side of the city with her mother. You two picked a window seat at the front house, using the translucent screen in front of you to select your orders. As soon as you were finished, the screen blipped off, revealing the bustling city street.

“Changkyun wanted to come too,” Yoojung said, fiddling with a sugar packet, “but his aerospace class is going on a tour of the Sky Hub… He won’t stop talking about you, y’know?”

You cringed slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yoojung.

She couldn’t repress her laughter. “What’s that about? You hate him now?”

“I don’t hate him.” You also grabbed a sugar packet and started pushing around the granules inside, using it as an excuse not to face her directly. “It’s weird being only friends.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Yoojung frowned.

“I thought that was what I wanted. I feel like… I kept him as a friend because I was too afraid to lose him completely. But now…” You heaved a sigh and chewed pensively into your bottom lip.

“You’ve moved on.” Yoojung acknowledged. “But with who?”

Taking in a breath to relax your pulse, you looked at Yoojung seriously and admitted: “Hansol.”

“Hansol?” Her jaw almost fell off the bone. “What the hell! How come you never told me you were in love with the hot cyborg? When did this happen?”

There was a silver disc on the far side of the table that automatically slid open, and a tray pushed up that contained Yoojung’s coffee and your honey tea. Once you took the tray, the silver disc closed.

“Like two months ago,” you confessed, handing Yoojung her coffee mug and the small pitcher of cream, “he’s living with me.”

“I had no idea.” She sounded in complete awe. “But now that I think of it, you two always seemed to connect really well.”

You felt an unbridled smile pull at the corners of your mouth, but tried not to make your giddiness too obvious.   

“Can you please not tell Changkyun? If he finds out, I want it to be through me.”

“I won’t say anything.” Yoojung promised, drawing a cross over her chest with her finger.

After you spent a few minutes blowing at your tea, you swallowed coarsely and asked Yoojung about a matter that had always allured your curiosity.

“What are those numbers by Hansol’s ear? I’ve never asked him.”

“I don’t know really,” Yoojung replied, shrugging, “my dad said it’s like a barcode that they use in laboratories.”

“Do you think Hansol was an experiment of some sort?”

Yoojung poured a dash of cream into her coffee and stirred it. “Most likely. I think that’s why he writes in that notebook all the time. My dad told me that the laboratories are evil. They do cruel experiments, and a lot of the cyborgs need a mental escape. Apparently, they’re allowed to write or paint. Ever since my dad found Hansol, he’s had that notebook.”

Her expression turned sorrowful and the contours of her face filled with gloom. “I don’t think Hansol is used to being treated like a human. Just because he has bionic parts, that doesn’t mean he’s emotionless, like some android. He can walk and breathe and laugh, like any of us.”

You stared into the golden, swirling colours of your tea and nodded solemnly.

“He can love too,” Yoojung hummed, “he just needs to be shown it first.”

Ivory rays of moonlight followed you home, until you slipped through the door and quietly clicked it shut. You hadn’t expected to stay out so long with Yoojung, though you weren’t entirely surprised considering her month-long absence.

Hansol was sitting on the couch, the lamp aglow on the side table as he scribbled into that faux, black leather notebook, a few stray locks of hair tickling his eyes. Your expression couldn’t help but split into one of firm ardour and love, a contented smile decorating your mouth while you opened the fridge to look for a quick snack. 

You pulled out a container of sliced strawberries, washed your hands, and ate nearly half the sweet summer fruit. After wiping off your fingers with a paper towel, you sat next to Hansol on the couch and rested your chin on his shoulder. His writing was crooked, rather messy, and you couldn’t quite read anything from the paper, though you held a moment of silence, continuing to watch him make his scribbles. Eventually you set a hand on his bicep, squeezing gently and feeling the hard, metal component beneath.

“Did you have a nice day, Sollie?” You asked him, mindlessly stroking his arm.

He turned his head slightly and caught your curious eye. Never had you yearned to kiss someone else so badly, and you were forced to squash the notion that moving your head just an inch forward would have your lips to his.

“It was fine.” Hansol replied, his gaze tenderly studying your face. “You?”

“I saw Yoojung today, so we caught up on some things...” tracing circles against his strong arm, you added shyly, “I thought about you a lot too.”

The edges of Hansol’s lips fluttered into a smile. “Yeah? Nice.”

“What are you writing about?” You hummed, simultaneously reaching into a pocket on your jacket, pulling out a lip balm.

Hansol chuckled, “you can’t read it?”

You pressed the smooth end of the stick against your lips and shook your head.

“No,” you scoffed lightheartedly in response, staring into the boy’s brown eyes, “not saying you have bad hand writing. It’s just… a little indiscernible.”

He examined the paper again, and his countenance became timid, even a mixture of anxious.

“Good.” Hansol huffed, his leg starting to shake.

“Why good? C’mon, I want to know at least the topic.” You shoved away your fruity lip balm with a large pout.

“If you don’t have a clue now then you’ll never have one.” Hansol teased.

Scratching your arm, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Is it about me?”

Hansol didn’t say anything, he just pressed his lips together in a small, sheepish smile while that familiar rose tint flickered in his eyes. He nodded, then set his book and pen on the side table.

“Do you think that’s weird?”

“What?” You questioned him. “That you write about me? I don’t think it’s weird.”

You expected him to appear more relieved, but Hansol’s face only filled with new shadows of uncertainty and doubt. He peered into his lap again, and you could see a very prominent circuit on his neck fire a multitude of luminous, twinkling signals. Something clearly wasn’t right with him; something was still causing him pain. Carefully, your fingers grazed Hansol’s sharp jaw, turning his head so that he could look at you forwardly. You swept away the tresses that were touching his long lashes, a deep concern shifting the once chipper nature to your face.

“What’s wrong, Hansol?” Your brow furrowed, knuckles stroking softly along his jawline. “You can tell me anything.”

“W-Would—,” he stumbled, and you saw how his irises faded into a beautiful aurora of ice blue, “would you love me more if I weren’t who I am?”

Immediately you tensed, and your eyes widened. Your hand fell from the boy’s jaw while a thorough shock bottomed out in your gut. Hansol looked at you so purely, so intimately.

“Because I’m in love with you,” his gritty voice trembled slightly, becoming as thin as the paper attached to his notebook, “and I can’t stop thinking about you, or writing about you. When you touch me, I feel the sensors in my body light up like crazy, and when you say my name, I replay it over and over again in my head. I’ve never felt this way before. But… I’m not like Changkyun, or Yoojung, or you. I can never be human in the way that you all are. ”

You shook your head, the inside of your mouth feeling horrendously parched and your heart aching tight against your ribs. Pulling the boy’s hand into your lap, you interlaced your fingers.

“Don’t say that,” you pleaded, a surge of hot, liquid salt lining your eyes, “those bionics in your body don’t take away from the fact you can feel real emotion. I don’t care if you had circuits in every part of you, or none of you. You still have a heart that feels pain, and love, a brain that helps you rationalize your emotions and thoughts. That alone makes you human enough, Hansol. I’ll love you no matter what.”

His cheeks were rubescent, eyes developing a thin film of teary gloss.

“Do you promise?” He croaked between a small sniffle.

You cupped his face in your enveloping palms and pressed a deep, calming kiss to his mouth.

“I promise.” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I love you, Hansol.”

The boy was unmarred by hesitance. Delicately, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck to gently push your lips against his, slightly angling his head so that he could better coordinate with your movement. The kiss was slow, but blooming with passion, and you felt the heat pool in the pit of your lower tummy as Hansol started guiding you to lay on your back. Your lips never separated, and the contact only grew more fervent upon tasting the mild fruit of your own chapstick from Hansol’s pink mouth. While your fingers tangled through his dark brown hair, pulling softly at the strong roots, his hands crept underneath your t-shirt.

He squeezed tenderly along your waist, the rough callouses gorged into his large palms turning your insides to a warm puddle. As the boy pressed open-mouth kisses beneath your jaw, one hand reached for his bicep, feeling the hard metal underneath upon digging in your fingertips. By the time Hansol reached the crook of your shoulder, he was panting faintly, to which you let the boy adjust his weight as he wriggled himself against your side, sleepy and overwhelmed with how the night unfolded. 

He nuzzled into your neck and tucked an arm around your stomach, attempting to keep you as close as possible, like you could disappear into thin air.

“Goodnight, Sol.” You murmured, gently scratching the top of his head.

His breath tickled the sensitive flesh of your neck, his rough voice already heavy with remnants of his incoming slumber as he repeated the phrase back to you. Just before you shut your eyes, your lips kissed the barcode tattooed to the sweet spot just in front of his ear.

I’ll love you no matter what.

✧✎ a/n: :-) hope u liked it! hearing ur thoughts is always appreciated!! i was actually supposed to post seokmin’s prince!au next, but that one is like 12k and since my mingyu purge fic was also really long, i just wanted to write smth short and sweet in between. maybe some of u would not consider 6k “short” lol but to me who physically CANNOT shorten my writing this is actually an improvement! anywho, i like writing hansol as a BIG SOFTIE!!!!

[seanfalco]

Tattoos (Misfits ot3 au)

Pairing: Win Lewis (my oc) x Nathan Young x Mel Albright (@bisexualnathanyoung​‘s oc) Word count: 1.7k Warning(s): Recreational drug usage a/n: Soooo, @bisexualnathanyoung​ & I started talking about a super self indulgent ot3 au the other night which takes place post Bad Kids, in which Nathan and Win both end up in a poly-relationship with Win’s ex Mel, and ofc I had to go and write the introduction bc I couldn’t get it off my mind.  I know oc stuff isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I’ve been itching to actually write something featuring Win for a while now, so this is kinda the perfect opportunity. 

“Holy shit babe, that was somethin’ else, like fuckin’ mind blowing,'' Nathan gasped as Win rolled off him, flopping to her back next to him to catch her breath.  “You can ride my cock like that anytime, Jay-sus fuck,” he exclaimed breathlessly, contentment and exhaustion thick in his voice and Win let out a soft chuckle.

“Good, cause I intend to,” she purred, twisting to flash a grin at her boyfriend who returned it readily as he pulled her into his arms, holding her against him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he murmured against her hair, his eyelids already drooping.

“I love you too, y’dork,” Win huffed, but Nathan was already snoring softly.

Sighing, Win really had to pee, but Nathan was warm and he’d effectively trapped her to his side, and she didn’t exactly wanna wake him by getting up just yet.  Deciding to just hold it for the time being, she made herself as comfortable as possible, contenting herself with watching Nathan sleep.  

Her gaze followed each steady rise and fall of his bare chest as she smoothed her palm over his skin before tracing the lines of his tattoos with her fingertip.  It was as she was studying the little star on the inside of his forearm that she found herself thinking of another star tattoo, much cruder than the one her boyfriend sported, but no less special to her.

“Hey, cool tattoo,” Win observed, leaning over in her plastic chair to get a closer look at the girl next to her’s wrist.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” she replied, seemingly taken aback that Win had addressed her, much less complimented her, her eyes widening slightly as she gaped at her.  “I did it myself,” she explained quietly, running her hand over the little stick and poke outline of a five pointed star.  

Win looked impressed, her eyebrows rising.  “Badass.”

They’d been going to the same grief counseling group for like a week now, but they’d never really talked one on one.

“You wanna grab a smoke?” Win asked suddenly, motioning with her head toward the door.

Group was technically over for the night and several of their peers were still hanging around, waiting for their rides to get there.  Win had a feeling the girl’s mum would be late.  She usually was.

“Yeah, alright,” she answered with a half shrug and stood, following Win out the back door.

Leaning against the building under the small overhang out back, Win fished for her pack of smokes from her messenger bag, tapping it against her palm before pulling a thin cigarette from it and offering it to the younger girl.  Taking another for herself and sticking it precariously between her lips, Win dropped the pack back in her bag and retrieved her lighter.  Once her cigarette was lit she handed it over and soon they were both blowing smoke into the too humid night air.

"So what's your name?" Win asked, glancing over.

The other girl hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before answering.  "It’s Melanie, but I don't really like it,” she answered, pausing to blow a stream of smoke skyward.  “My dad called me Melly, but people seem to always misunderstand what I’m saying,” she huffed in annoyance. “Plus the kids at school called me Smelly Melly and I didn't like that either, so I guess you can just call me whatever you want,” she finished with a shrug.

Win glanced over at her thoughtfully for a moment, flicking ash from her cigarette.  "Well, I'm Win. Short, simple, three letters. How bout I call you Mel?" she suggested.

For a moment Mel’s eyes lit up and a small smile stole across her lips.  "I'd like that. I really like that."

——

“Hey small fry, you wanna come over for a smoke tonight?” Win asked with a smirk as they walked to the toilets after group was over.

“What about your dad?” Mel asked.

“Oh, he won’t be there,” Win answered offhandedly, though her smirk twisted to disgust as she jumped up to perch on the edge of the sink.  “He’s got another date tonight with that rich fucking cougar,” she explained, her face darkening.  “She’s such a fucking slag,” she added under her breath as the toilet flushed and Mel stepped out of the stall.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty fucked up that they started dating like only a month after your mum died,” Mel pointed out, washing her hands as Win pushed herself off the counter.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she muttered, throwing her arm over Mel’s shoulders as they walked out to the main room.  “So you comin’ or what?” she asked and Mel nodded, grinning.  

“Hell yeah, I’ve got a new CD I wanna listen to.”

Mel’s music playing in the background they sat cross legged on the floor passing Win’s pipe between them, their problems slowly becoming less important.

“Oh, yeah, no, get this,” Win snorted, coughing as she waved smoke from her face, offering the pipe and lighter to Mel.  “They want me to make friends with Karen’s brat, Delilah.”  She drew the name out, filling it with as much disdain as she could.

“Oh yeah?” Mel mused, flicking the lighter on as she placed the end of the glass pipe between her lips, trying not to think that Win’s lips had just been in the same place.  “Is she just as terrible as her mum?” she asked.

“She’s a real piece of work,” Win groaned, leaning back, her hands propped behind her on the floor.  “In front of my dad she’s like little miss perfect, polite and sweet as can be, but as soon as we’re alone she makes a total 180.  I mean, what d’you expect from a spoiled club girl?  But like, no one would ever believe me,” she complained.

“Ugh, dumb bitch.  Fuck her, but not like fuck her,” Mel exclaimed, setting the pipe down and Win couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at her friend’s words.

“Don’t worry, she’s not my type,” she laughed and Mel’s eyes widened slightly.

Silence fell for a while as Mel fidgeted with the sleeves of her hoodie, chewing her lip.  “What is your type?” she asked softly and Win sat up straighter, tilting her head as she peered at her friend’s downturned face.

“I dunno… I’ve never really thought about it before,” she murmured, scooting closer.

“Oh, well, as long as--” Mel’s words cut off suddenly as Win pressed her lips to hers, taking her off guard.  For a moment she didn’t seem to be able to talk, her face turning bright red as Win pulled back, her lips quirking slightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she admitted, but she didn’t get far, however as realization hit and Mel surged forward, kissing her back roughly, trying to shove her tongue down her throat, but Win merely gave a surprised squeal that melted into a moan, pulling her closer til they were making out in the middle of the floor.

——

“I can’t believe your dad’s making you move,” Mel murmured, trailing her fingers down Win’s arm as she scooted closer to her atop Win’s twin sized mattress.

“Ugh, I hate it,” Win groaned, “I don’t wanna move in with that slag and her dumb daughter.  I don’t wanna go to their stupid fucking wedding,” she exclaimed with a huff.

“Just… don’t go, I don’t know,” Mel said pressing her forehead to Win’s, who sighed deeply.

“I wish it was that simple,” she muttered, tracing the small star on Mel’s wrist.

Silence fell over the dark room and for a moment Win thought Mel may have slipped off to sleep.  Not that she blamed her, she had been a little rough earlier when they’d fooled around, and she was starting to feel the telltale pull of exhaustion as well, until Mel shifted next to her, her eyes catching in the stray moonlight that filtered through the blinds over the bed.

“Hey Winnie,” Mel murmured in a small voice, pausing to bite her lip.  

At the nickname Win frowned slightly, about to tell her girlfriend she didn’t really care to be called that, when the words died on her tongue as Mel continued.

“I love you.  Even if everything fuckin’ changes, at least I’ll still be here,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

Win’s breath caught in her throat at the admission, but she quickly overcame her shock, pulling Mel closer almost frantically, squeezing her tightly.  “I love you too, Melly.”

——

Win didn’t even register the tears that had gathered in her eyes at first as her lips trembled and she pressed her face to Nathan’s side, reminding herself that he was right there.  

As much as she missed Melanie, she was gone now, happy in Bristol, going to college, and Win... Win was happy here -- she had a flat, she had friends that she loved like family, and she had Nathan.  She loved Nathan.  Stupid, sweet, infuriating Nathan.  

So why did it hurt so much to think of Mel?  Sure they’d dated for almost three years, sure they’d been best friends even before that, sure they’d shared a trauma that had brought them closer.  Why did she have to suddenly think of her now?

Let it go, she told herself angrily.  It’s over, there’s no use dwelling on it.  You’re happy, remember?

Taking a deep breath, Win finally pushed herself up, carefully extricating herself from Nathan’s vice-like embrace to pad to the bathroom, snatching one of his shirts from the floor as she went and throwing it over her head.  Finally getting to empty her bladder, Win splashed water over her face before slipping back into the bedroom.  When she crawled back into bed, resituating herself next to Nathan, he stirred.

“Wha--?” he exclaimed with a start, settling down again when he saw it was just Win.  “You okay?” he asked when she didn’t speak, a small worried frown tugging at his lips.

Wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his neck, she merely nodded.  “Yeah, ‘m fine,” she mumbled, pushing the guilt down further and Nathan’s frown deepened for a moment before he shrugged and let his curly head fall back to the pillows, already falling back asleep, though his arm around her waist tightened.

Let it go, Win, she repeated firmly.

Little did she know that maybe things between her and Mel weren’t as over as she thought.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Can we seriously talk about his praise kink though? We’ve seen how supposedly bashful he gets when people tell him he’s hot but I think he actually loves it especially when he’s being intimate with someone. I think he’s very vocal if he finds you attractive and enjoys reciprocation lol

Oh definitely

I think the reason Harry’s so shy when people compliment him is because they’re fans and strangers and it’s usually in public. But in a more private setting/event, he’d probably get that self-assured smirk he does when people scream his own lyrics back at him and cry about how amazing he is.

He’s a self-proclaimed narcissist and that’s basically just him admitting to his praise kink and it absolutely magnifies when he’s being intimate with someone.

He’d just love to have you fuel his ego. Like you could be just making out on the bed and he’d pull back a bit, which just spurs you into finding a new place to attach your lips. You’d end up scattering desperate sloppy pecks down his neck as he lets his head hang back, throat straining with the weight and etching in a few veins that disappear into the underside of his jaw.

He’d swallow heavily, chewing on his bottom lip before wetting it lightly with his tongue, mouth falling open in a silent moan as a shiver topples down the knobs of his spine. He’d grip your hips harder, breathing catching as your teeth skim a particularly soft spot along his collarbones.

Harry’s voice would come out tight and breathy with an undercurrent of cocksure smugness. “You like the way I taste, don’t you?”

Your answer is muffled by his heated skin, your lips refusing to part with his body because feeling his jugular flex under the ridges of your mouth is the only thing feeding the boiling pit of need in your stomach. “Of course I do. Thought it was fucking obvious.”

He leans back slowly, lower back flushing against the mattress as he balances onto his forearms, propping himself with his elbows. You have no choice but to follow, falling forward so that your chest is melded to his, knees digging into the sides of his thighs as your fingers wrinkle the fabric of the expensive t-shirt stretching against his broad chest.

You tug at the material, the collar of the tee riding down the swell of his pectorals and revealing the antennas of his butterfly tattoo. Your eager lips follow the ink with quick, wet kisses, exhales shallow and feverish as every nerve in your body screams to feel him— feel him more.

Harry just stares down at you over the sweaty tops of his cheeks, eyelashes dusting his cheekbones drunkenly as his mind fogs with pleasure. His voice is thick and deep, rumbling in his lungs. “What about my cock?”

You release a desperate growl, hot and bothered beyond manageable. “God, Harry, I want it so bad.”

“Why?”

Your fingers release the collar of his shirt, your mouth coasting its way up his jaw and across his chin, eyes crossing with his dark, sparkling own. “What do you mean why? You know why.”

The corners of Harry’s faint grin curve upwards even further, lips parting in an open-mouthed smirk, dimple carving into his cheek. “Wanna hear you say it.”

You hoist yourself up his body so that your noses bump, maintaining the intense eye contact he’s locked you in. Your fingers drift up his heaving chest to his sturdy shoulders, digging into the hard muscles and you can feel him twitch between your thighs in response.

Your throat tightens as he juts his chin a bit, signifying for you to speak up, his mouth teasing yours but not allowing you to fully kiss him. “Tell me why you like bouncing on it so much.”

“Fuck, H, because…”

His hips shift, hands groping your waist harder, slowly rocking you on his crotch. “Because what?” 

“Because you’re so fucking big and you hit every spot perfectly and— and, fuck, you just feel so good stretching me out.”

His head falls back again, hanging from his shoulders, eyelids drooping shut in bliss as the words sink into his veins and go straight to his prick. He runs his bottom lip between his teeth, chuckling lowly as you lick at his Adam’s Apple with a form of raw need that strokes his confidence just right. “What else?”

You’re so far gone the syllables just tumble out. “You know how to use it so well. Every thrust makes me feel like I’m gonna pass out. And you’re so good with your fingers, too. You always get me dripping because you know just the right way to finger me into a begging mess. And your mouth. Shit, your mouth. It’s so pretty— like, so fucking pretty and soft and it drives me crazy.”

He can feel himself tenting his sweats and staining his briefs. “Jesus Christ, you’re such a slut for it.”

The way you toy at the waistband of his bottoms is almost pitiful, your little gasps and whines smearing along the dip of his throat. “Just wanna feel you inside me. Please?”

He grins into the darkness of the room, eyes fluttering open when he feels his underwear being tugged down his thighs. “Slow, darling. Sit on it nice and slow. Make sure you feel every fucking inch.”

You nod so fast your head throbs, eyes widening as his cock jolts against his thigh, painfully hard with drops of precum beading from the tip. The way your mouth waters is embarrassing.

Harry lulls his neck forward, taking in your appearance, thighs clenching as he watches your shaking hand grasp him timidly. “It’s funny how you’ll say the absolute filthiest things but then get all shy when I finally let you have what you want. S’cute.”

Your cheeks simmer.

He swiftly pushes himself back into a sitting position, grabbing at your face roughly and jerking your head up until your lips touch, his cold rings imprinting along your jaw. “Go on, fuck yourself on me. S’what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You nod numbly in his grasp.

Harry sponges his mouth onto your left cheek tenderly, the innocent fashion of the action sharply contrasting the aura he’s established in the room. His voice compliments his gentle manner— soft and melodic— but the actual words make your pulse slam in your temples.

“Fucking take it, then.”

[jimimn]

hello u 🎨 if ur still doing it of course!!

nesssssssssssssss im sorry this is so so late 😭 I wish I could’ve done this sooner but I’ve been exhausted out of my mind asdfghjk but Im so happy to finally do this for you!!! <3 Lets go because I have a lot to scream about sdfghjnmnm 😌

I OPENED YOUR BLOG AND I WAS GREETED BY THE GREATEST GIFSET OF ALL TIME!!!! MAIN. DANCER. JIMIN.  THE MOST PERFECT GIFSET EVER???? ALL THE MOMENTS YOU CHOSE??? absolutely breathtaking. breathtaking is an understatement tbh. i could write an essay on jimin’s dancing skills lmao 😭😭😭😭 could look at him all day could ramble about him all day 😭 the colouring of this gifset (actually literally every gifset ever you make but we’ll scream about that later) is so perfect i can’t get enough of it and the way he’s biting his lip in the 8th gif haha jail for him :))))

OKAY NOW COMING O YOUR CLOURINGS. NES. NES???? NES. YOUR COLOURINGS. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. JUST KNOCKS THE AIR OUT OF MY LUNGS AND I WANT TO KEEP STARING AT THEM. I KNOW WHOSE GIFS ARE THESE JUST BY LOOKING AT THE COLOURING I DON’T NEED NO WATERMARK NO URL TO LOOK AT TO TELL THAT THEY’RE YOUR GIFS. THE TEALS AND REDS IN YOUR GIFS I AM SUCH. A. SUCKER FOR THOSE AHHHHHHH and the way your gifs flow as smooth as water? literally how ......... thank you for blessing my lie with every gifset you make <3333

 im looking at your gifs tag and i don’t know which ones to choose because?? i love??? every single one of them??? this is gonna be so difficult but here we go anyway :’)

THIS MOMENT said it in th tags and i’ll say it again.. thank you for making such big beautiful gifs of this moment like it deserves. he’s literally the most ethereal ahhh im gonna sound like a broken record again but idk i just love this moment so much and this gifset is beautiful as fuck i have nothing else to say but just stare at him for eternity 

yoongi seesaw THE QUALITY?????? THE COLOURING???? THE WAY THESE GIFS ARE SO FRIKKIN SMOOTH? LIKE VELVET ?????? I DON’T EVEN MAKE SENSE HAHA BUT GOD THIS GIFSET MADE ME MISS SEESAW MORE THAN I ALREADY WAS 😭😭😭😭 

DRUMMER JK ASDFGHJKLKJHGF BOY REALLY WRECKED ME THAT DAY 😭😭😭😭😭 THE BLUE IN THIS SET IS SO SO YUMMY AHHHHHH literally every shade of blue that you turn the original blues into makes me go 😋😋😋😋 because blue is my favourite colour sdfghjkl specially these shades!!!! and i also am a huge fan of the orange and blue colour combination dfghjkl so its just my fave colours and combinations and drummer jk in one gifset i don’t need anything else <33333

ABSOLUTELY IN AWE????????????? GOD I WANNA CRY HE’S SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU MADE HIM LOOK EVEN MORE ENTHRALLING UNREAL OUT OF THIS WORLD BEAUTIFUL 😭😭😭😭 THE SPARKLES THE COLOURING THE SHARPENING THE QUALITY THE MOMENTS HIS GRACE HIS HANDS HIS SLIGHT SMILE IN THE LAST GIF HIS HAIR HIS EYE MAKE UP HIS OUFIT LITERALLY EVERYTHING IM JUST ON THE FLOOR SCREAMING I LOVE THIS GIFSET SO MUCH I WANNA TATTOO IT ON THE INSIDE OF MY EYELIDS TF 😭😭😭😭😭 im sorry for screaming but im just so!!! in awe!! of him and this gifset ahhhhhhh!!!

im gonna stop here but i want you to know that im in awe of your talent and i love love loveeeee every single thing that you post!!!! thank you so much for blessing my dash with beauty ily <333 

[anninhiliation]

Caught

Anon: every time i try to come up with a smut idea for chris my exhibitionist ass mind is always like “getTiNg CauGht By ThE bOys🤤”

A/N: So at the end, I gave you guys options on who walks in on you 

Masterlist         Requests close Nov 10

My eyelids slowly opened up as I adjusted my position cuddling my head further into Chris’s tattooed arm. As I moved around I felt Chris’s hard member press against my lower back. Grinning I grinded on his erection a little more until I heard him groan. His grip tightened around my lower abdomen. 

“Buenos dias nena” he huskily mumbled 

Squirming under his grip I turned around, centimeters away from his face. 

“Good morning” I smirked 

I moved my thigh over his hip pushing him to his back with each of my thighs on his side. I kissed his lips hungrily, before making a trail down his body. Chris 

“Buenos Dias nena” He huskily said as I fully stripped the sheets giving me more access to him

“Good morning papi” I purred as I leaned down and lustfully kissed him.

His hands squeezed my ass making me moan as he pulled away from the kiss and attacked my jaw right on my delicate spot. I grinded my soaked core against his hard clothed member as he flipped me over on the bed. Right as Chris was about to rip off my panties, a loud knock hit the door. 

“Good morning guys, an interview has been moved to an earlier slot and we need to leave in ten,” Ali instructed from outside the door

We both groaned in annoyance as we both knew we could not fit in a quickie, get ready and be on time without making him late. Chris untangled himself from me got off the bed puting on his clothes. I followed, trying to ignore my throbbing as I lazily put on baggy jeans and a long sleeve tube top pairing it with my favorite sneakers. We both looked annoyed as we walked out of the hotel room, making Erick snicker. 

“Ay cabrones porqué están tan enojado?” He teased smiling and laughing

“Not today Erick” I mumbled as piled into the elevator with the others

I leaned my back against Chris and felt his erection press up hard against me making my throbbing core scream. I looked up at him as he watched me with his lust-filled eyes. As we all slowly exited the elevator, Chris pulled me back. 

“Nena I cant go on with this” He growled as he kissed my neck 

“Chris Im just as riled up pero que quieres cojer aca?” I whimpered as I pulled away

“Ya” He huffed as he pulled me back into his intoxicating touch

My eyes widened as I debated actually letting my bodily urges take over. 

“Can you hold it until we can sneak into a closet or something?” I questioned as I tried to remove my self from him 

“Fine nena” he huffed letting me go but still holding my waist concealing his massive boner

The drive to the event was hectic and chaotic as usual. Chris sat me on his lap as he held onto my waist and rested his head on my back. 

“Almost there” I whispered to him 

As the car finally stopped, Chris shot us both up and rushed us out of the van. As Clara and Ali shouted at him, he only ushered us faster into the first little private room he could find. He opened the door to a little green room and threw me on the couch. I hungrily unbuttoned Chris’s pants and massaged his length as he marked my neck. Chris groaned as I wiggled free from him, sinking to my knees and devouring his member. I bobbed my head as Chris tugged on my hair pulling me in as much as possible. I fully relaxed my jaw as my face pressed against his warm flesh. 

“Fuck nena” He groaned as I came back for air

The strings of drool dropped to my chin as I sunk back down. I bobbed my head and moaned as I felt Chris ready to release. 

“Carajo” He grunted as I sucked on his balls 

As I felt Chris seconds away from releasing his warm salty load I dove my head down his shaft. He groaned and cursed my name as he came in my mouth. I swallowed everything, as Chris helped me up and pushed me back down on the couch. He swiftly unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down throwing by the door. Chris licked his fingertips as he quickly teased my slit.

“Carajo princesa ya estas mojada” He huffed as he removed his hands and aligned himself with me 

“Just for you papi” I purred as he slid inside me making my fingernails run down his clothed back

I let out a loud moan and Chris quickly covered my mouth looking me in the eye sternly. 

“Princesa people probably heard that” He growled and nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. 

I bit my bottom lip trying to hold in the moaning as Chris pulled down my tube top and massaged my breasts. I felt the knot build up as the door swung open

Erick:

“Mi pare- Ay what the hell bro I don’t wanna see that!” Erick shouted as he slammed the door shut giggling  

Joel:

“Chris?- OH MY GOD GUYS!” Joel shouted covering his eyes frozen in his steps 

“AY PAPA SALI!” Chris shouted as he tried to cover my exposed body

“Y-yea shit fuck sorry guys but Chris we gotta go!” Joel stammered as he shut the door 

Zabdiel:

Zabdiel quietly opened the door, and slowly looked up. His expression turned from exhausted to annoyed. 

“Carajo I wanted to take a nap in my own dressing room!” He shouted as he turned around and slammed the door shut making the walls vibrate 

Richard:

Richard swung the door open and grinned at the two of us. 

“Bro finish up cause we gotta go” He laughed as he turned around closing the door

“Ayo you owe me 20$ I walked in on them!” We heard him scream 

All of them:

The door flung open to eight wide eyes all on us. Chris immediately pulled my tube top back up and tried to cover my exposed skin.  

“Ew gross” Joel huffed as he turned around

“Bro this isnt your dressing room but we gotta go” Richard smirked as he picked up my pants and threw it at us 

“Que pasa?” Erick shouted

“Carajo” Zabdiel grumbled as they all turned around closing the door behind him

Me:

Tf id join you who tf do you think I am

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

CHAPTER TWO CONCLUSION

Haddonfield, Illinois

The ambulance driver took a swig of his coffee thermos and looked over to his partner, “So then Carlson for the Sox hits this ball on a rope...I mean on a rope..to right field and you think the things gonna be all over right?”

His partner laughed, he was biting his thumbnail and spitting the flecks of nail out—a disgusting habit, but good for killing time on runs. “Yeah.”

“But the right fielder for the Cubbies, Santos, he dives into the ivy...I mean straight into the goddam ivy and comes out with it. End of inning...it was incredible.”

“I can't believe I missed it,” his partner said, looking out of the window. “I just passed out.”

“How the hell you just pass out?” The driver asked him smiling.

“Well you remember me telling you about that girl, Lawrence's friend who works at the cellphone store?” He looked back at the driver with a grin.

The driver's eyes grew wide, “The hot broad with the little tattoo on her wrist of the teddy bear or somethin'.”

“Butterfly.”

“Yeah yeah, butterfly. What's her name?”

“Darla,”

“Yeah yeah Darla,” the driver laughed, “You didn't get with that! No way man.”

“Oh I got with that,” the partner smiled.

“No way.”

“Way man,” the partner pulled out his cellphone, “I got pics man, she came over about eight, and we carved a pumpkin and shit, hung out, watched a scary movie.”

“You carved a pumpkin with her?”

“Yeah look,” he said, holding out his phone, “I carved a sick ass little Jack-O-Lantern, take a look.”

The driver leaned over and looked down at the screen. “What the hell is that?” He asked laughing.

“It's a goblin or some shit man.” The partner replied.

“Didn't look like no goblin,”

“Well fuck you then man.”

“Well just sayin'.”

“Well check this,” the man scrolled on his phone with his thumb, “Check out the little outfit she was wearing. Seriously, look at her titties in that?”

“She does have some nice titties,” the driver said, peeking over again.

“Oh yes,” he said, admiring the cleavage in the picture, “So you got to...”

“JESUS FUCK LOOK OUT!!!”

The partner screamed way too late to have changed anything. The ambulance had come up and over a small hill, on the other side of which lay the trailer of Gabriel Couture's Semi-truck. The driver of the ambulance's foot didn't even hit the brakes and the ambulance smashed right through the relatively thin outer skin of the top of trailer which, given that it was laying on it's side, was facing them. The wood floor of the trailer on the other side, was supported by steel beams and was therefore much stronger, so when the front of the ambulance struck this, the engine exploded immediately, turning the cab behind it into one huge smoldering fireball.

🎃

Reverend Taylor had just come back down from his bedroom when he heard the explosion. He had gone up earlier to try and force himself to sleep but that had not worked. He used a large box-fan as a sound machine when he slept, and the noise of that had prevented him from hearing the first accident involving Brad’s mustang, the Chumway Brothers, and Gabriel Couture's truck. Now as he looked out of his front windows, through the trees, he could see flames and smoke rising up in the distance.

The Rev went to the little closet beside the front door and pulled out his boots. His house sat in the center of a large lot on the top of the hill. The bluff adjacent to the park—the hillside Kyndra Bailey had fallen down, was to the rear of the property, and the highway, now strewn with smoldering pieces of car parts and bodies like a scene from the Terminator, was about twenty yards from the front of the property.

If it's a bad wreck, someone may be trapped in a car or something, he thought. He went back upstairs to his bedroom and retrieved his cellphone and his shotgun.

For all I know its another stupid prank from some stupid delinquents setting off homemade Molotov cocktails or something in the street.

He checked to see if the gun was loaded with shells...it was.

Better safe than sorry.

🔪

Amos Yoder sat straight up in bed again.

This time his wife wasn't next to him, but she soon appeared in the door way.

“Did you hear that?” Esther asked.

“What was it?” Amos asked, throwing back the quilt and reaching over to pick up his pants.

“Sounded like an automobile accident,” Esther said, wringing her hands. Gideon circled around her legs excitedly. “And you smell that horrible smell? What is that?”

“It's gasoline,” Amos answered, pulling his pants up and tying the ties on the inside. No buttons, the Amish did not believe in buttons.

“What are you going to do?” Esther asked her husband as he moved passed her.

“I guess I'm going to have a look,” he answered, “is it still raining?”

“I think it's pretty much stopped now,” she answered, “put on your thicker shoes though, I'm sure the ground is completely soaked.”

🎃

The monster awoke. It was dark...and Its face burned. Its eyes hurt and It realized that It couldn't open them...Its eyelids felt like they were glued together. It strained Its' face muscles. That brought even more pain, but eventually the eyelids did open a bit. Everything was still dark...and now a little cloudy.

The monster sat up. It knew It was sitting on a hospital gurney. It knew the feeling of it, even if It couldn't actually see it. The monster had been put on many hospital stretchers over the years. But most of the time the monster had been tied down. This time there were no ties.

The monster stood, and Its' head bumped the ceiling. The monster raised Its' hand, bringing pain. To move was painful...every inch of the monster's body was still burning. Only figuratively now—a few hours ago, it had been literally on fire. The monster rain Its' hand over the ceiling, feeling cold steel.

An ambulance. The monster knew. In an ambulance.

The monster could smell something too.

Gasoline.

The monster cocked Its' head to one side.

Could be on me, from the explosion.

The monster didn't think so.

The monster sidled forward, passed the stretcher, seeing the dim outline of the rear doors through blurry vision. Just making out the two rectangles of the door windows.

The monster lifted Its' leg and gave a kick.

BAM!

The doors were stuck tight.

BAM!

BAM!

🔪

Reverend Taylor's head popped up when he heard the noise coming from the back of the ambulance. He was kneeling over a corpse, so badly burned, it was almost unrecognizable as human. He had a dark feeling come over him.

I don't think I wanna know what's in the back of that ambulance for some reason.

He couldn't quite explain it. Maybe it was being saturated with all of the sick news all night and into the morning. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep.

It could have just been nerves.

He slowly stood up.

BAM!

My some miracle, the fire in the cab of the ambulance had extinguished almost immediately, and had not spread to the back. The vehicle had struck the floor of the trailer and bounced backwards, so now the front end sat crushed and smoldering within the trailer and the back lay hanging out in the roadway.

BAM!

To survive a crash like that, the Reverend thought, leveling the shotgun and taking a step toward the back of the ambulance. Can't be human.

BAM!

I should call the police. He thought.

BAM!

He or she could have been tied down back there, maybe survived that way.

Rev didn't think so.

BAM!

Stop it! It's a patient and they're probably hurt. His mind raced. You need to open the door and help them out.

BAM!

Rev didn't think so.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

But if you haul off and shoot somebody, people are gonna think you went insane.

Reverend Taylor turned the shotgun around as he came up alongside the ambulance doors. The vehicle was literally shaking on it's axles with every BAM! Rev gripped the barrel.

Just in case, he thought. I can just give em' a whack if they're dangerous.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

The door broke open.

The Shape staggered out.

The Reverend swung the shotgun.

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