#It's bad enough in books 1 - 3 knowing where it's all going and that every woman is going to die violently for male arcs

[bonefall]

Tbh I never read that far in DOTC but I heard so much about star flower from fandom that now hearing about it directly from you I feel so cheated. I was promised a femme fatale.. tho in hindsight considering how much these writers hate women I probably shouldn't have gotten my hopes up

I WISH we got a femme fatale. It would have been incredibly cathartic for her to make herself alluring to Clear Sky, turning his worst traits against him and getting both power and revenge. For Thunder to bond to her over it, reaching the conclusion in the end that they both had terrible parents that they need to reject.

but, knowing the Erins, they would have just had Clear Sky kill her violently and gratuitously for ever tricking him. Like how he gouged Willow Tail's eyes out. So... I guess we were doomed either way.

Anyway im cooking

[silverb0wties]

Lemonade - Part 3

leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader

Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?

Chapter Summary:  You go back to school and you try and make yourself useful

Warnings: bullying, homophobia, misogyny 

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

PART 3

“30 days has September, April, June and November…”

You had set yourself the task today to make yourself a calendar.  Maths had never been your strongest subject in school, but you were excellent at remembering, so you knew the month song off by heart and were mumbling it to yourself as you began digging into your desk draw to retrieve some art supplies.

The decision to make the calendar had hit you last night when you were reading one of your new library books before bed and the return receipt slipped out of the back cover and onto your lap.  Normally, it was the very first thing you retrieved when you got home from the library, making sure to mark the return dates down on your big white board calendar on the fridge.  But you were still getting used an entirely new routine in your new house and you’d completely forgot to look for the slip.

Now that you had it though, you had to make sure you noted down the dates somewhere you could easily see them.  So, with a few pieces of paper, a ruler and some markers, you drew up a calendar for the next few months.  By checking the borrow date on the receipt and counting how many days it had been since your library visit, you managed to figure out what todays date was.  From there, and with the help of that handy month song, you’d managed to fill in the rest of the dates.   

When it was all completed you stepped back to examine your work.  If you were honest with yourself, your lines could have been drawn straighter and your handwriting could have been much, much neater.  But you didn’t have the energy to redo it, so it would have to do.  For now. 

You surveyed your room for someone to put it.  In your old house your calendar was on the fridge, out in the open for everyone to see and help you keep track of.  Here, it needed to be hidden from your Aunties, so that it was your responsibility, and your responsibility alone, to make sure you were staying on top of everything.

Everything.

A wave of guilt crashed over you as you remembered all the other things you would keep track of on your calendar.  Now that you were a big girl, you had been helping around the house and you had chores.  You would set the table and help take the cups and plates and spoons out of the dish washer (only Mummy and Daddy could touch the knives).  You would also check for mail every morning and there was a pretty purple watering can you got use to water the flowers in the front garden a couple of times a week.

But you didn’t do any of that here at your Aunties house.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Part of you worried that your Aunties didn’t trust you enough to ask you to help out around the house.  Perhaps they thought you weren’t smart enough or strong enough or big enough to lend a hand.  Or maybe they were secretly mad that you hadn’t insisted on helping and were keeping a top-secret list of all the times you didn’t help out and they would present it to you on a big, long scroll on the day they kicked you out their house.

You shuddered at the thought of that.  That was a day you thought about often.  You didn’t know how many days or weeks or months it was until the baby was here, but surely your time here at your Aunties house was running out.  You needed to do everything in your power to be good until then so that they didn’t kick you out any sooner.  

That night before tea, you made sure to wash your hands extra good before heading into the kitchen where your Aunty Lessi was cooking.  

“Aunty Lessi, could I set the table?”

“Oh sure!  If you’d like.  Just give me a moment and I’ll show you where everything is.”

You grinned in silent satisfaction, glad that it seemed like your Aunty wasn’t outright opposed to you proving your worth.  After your Aunty Lessi finished with whatever she was stirring on the stove, she led you over to various cupboards and drawers and pointed out where the placemats, plates and cutlery lived.  Whilst there were a few plastic cups in the same cupboard as the plates for you to use, the glasses your Aunties drank out of were on a higher shelf that were too high for you to reach.

“Don’t worry about those, I can grab them” she insisted.

“I could get a chair or something to stand on?”

“Don’t be silly, Bun Bun.  I’ll get them.  Thank you for getting everything else though.”

Silly. Silly. Silly.

Once you were all sat down for dinner, you watched your Aunty Lessi spin spaghetti around her fork before you took a deep breath in and began.

“Did I do okay at setting the table?”

“You did a great job, Bunny!” Your Aunty Leah was smiling big and bright at you.  She had a bit of sauce on her chin, but you thought it would be rude to tell her.

“Do you think I could do it every night?” you asked.

“Uhh… I mean, if you want to, sure.”

Victory.  One chore to add to the calendar.

“What about the post?  Can I be in charge of checking that too? Does it come in the mornings?”

You observed as your Aunties caught eyes with each other across the table, seeming to have a silent conversation.

“Umm, yes I suppose you could do that if you like,” Aunty Lessi nodded.

“Great!  And I can help empty the dishwasher.  No knives of course, but I can do spoons and plates and bowls and cups and stuff.  And maybe I can water some of your flowers, or all of them?  Or I can learn how to do other stuff too.  Like I could figure out how to do the laundry or clean the bathrooms or anything you want really…”

You hadn’t really realised, but you had pulled your knees up to your chest as your rant had gone on.  Your head was now resting on top of them as you looked eagerly between your Aunties, waiting for their response.  They were doing the silent conversation thing again.

“You don’t need to do all those things sweetheart.  We appreciate you offering, but maybe we’ll wait until you’re a bit older to do things like the laundry and stuff, yeah?” your Aunty Lessi responded.

You felt your stomach drop.  Your Aunty Lessi’s voice was kind, but you knew what her words meant.  They didn’t think you were big enough to help.

“How about we start off with setting the table for tea and checking the mail?  You’re still just settling in here, so we don’t wanna overload you with too much stuff to remember to do.”

--

It may have been bright and sunny outside, but today was a day you had been absolutely dreading.  You had decided to hang your calendar on the back of your bedroom door so that nobody but you would see it, and you had made sure to mark this day with a bright red circle and big a sad face.  Today was the day you were going back to school. 

You weren’t sure how it was decided or who decided, but you’d had a couple of weeks away from school after the fire and now it was time to go back.

You had only been back at school for 3 weeks of the new school year before the fire happened, so your parents had only just bought you brand-new dresses and shoes to replace the previous ones you’d outgrown.  Your pencil case had been filled with fresh crayons and sharp pencils, and you’d only just put a really cool new bunny sticker that your Uncle Gio had given you on your lunchbox.  But now, you had to start all over again.

So today, as you sat in front office with your Aunties, you were wearing a brand-new school dress and shoes and socks and Aunty Lessi had done your hair in a pretty braid with some pretty ribbons.  You also had a brand-new backpack and lunch box and pencil case, and you even had a brand-new iPad in a shiny purple case. 

In theory, you were all set to go.

But just under the surface, just beneath the layer of hairspray and the stiff gingham fabric, you were absolutely dreading heading back to the big noisy classroom and scary, sticky playgrounds.

You didn’t have heaps of friends at school like most of the other kids seemed to have.  You did have one good friend though.  Nora.  She also really liked to read and was super into comic books and superheros.  You didn’t really understand why she liked them, but you were more than happy to listen to her when she wanted to tell you all about them.  You would then tell her some cool bunny facts in return. 

This year the school librarian, Mr Webster, had let you both work on a big jigsaw puzzle every lunchtime.  He kept it safe and flat on a special piece of wood that he hid on top of his bookshelf in his office when you weren’t working on it.  It was a really, really big puzzle with loads more pieces than any other puzzle either of you had ever done before.  You were both determined to finish it before Christmas, but you weren’t sure if Nora had kept going while you were away.  You hoped she had but you also secretly hoped there was still some pieces left for you to do.  

Unlike previous years, Nora wasn’t in your class this year.  You were in Mrs Green’s class, and she was in Miss Roberts’ class.  You’d both written a letter to each teacher requesting to be swapped into each other’s class, but it hadn’t worked.  You were stuck alone in the classes you were in, and honestly, you were miserable. 

You see, it wasn’t that you didn’t have any other friends, that didn’t bother you much at all.  It was the fact that a bunch of the other kids seemed to actively dislike you.  In fact, the thing they seemed to like most in the whole world was picking on you.  They called you names and pulled on your hair and threw things at you.  You couldn’r really pinpoint exactly when it all started, but your first and most vivid memory was when Mitchell Timms had snatched your copy of The Worst Witch out of your hands one lunch time.  He threw it in a muddy puddle and stomped on it until all the pages were torn and the words had jumbled together.  When you ran over to try and save the book, a gift you’d received on your latest birthday, Mitchell just laughed at you and called you a “loser weirdo”. 

For the first 3 weeks of school this year, you had been sat next to a boy named Ollie and it had been awful.  He kept bumping your arm on purpose while you were trying to write and had laughed whenever you got frustrated that you had to erase and redo your mistakes.  One time he had even pulled your chair out from underneath you when you went to sit down, leading you to land on your bottom on the floor with a thud.  The whole class had pointed and laughed at you.  You had run out of the classroom and hid under a bench to try and calm yourself down.

When the teacher came to find you, you were curled in a ball, rubbing your Pocket Arthur softly against your cheek.  Pocket Arthur was your school buddy.  When you’d moved up from Reception into Primary School, your parents had bought you a miniature version of Arthur that you could keep tucked away in your pocket.  They said that now that you were going to big school, Arthur could no longer come along with you, but they wanted to make sure you still had a little buddy to always keep you company.  So, he was your Pocket Arthur, or Pockie for short. 

But he died in the fire too.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

So, on the night before you went back to school, you’d searched through your room, trying to find something to fill the big empty space left by Pockie when he died – the pocket of your school dress.  You tried crumpling up a wad of tissues, but the texture of it was all wrong.  Next you tried a balled-up pair of socks, but it felt scratchy when you tried rubbing it against your cheek.  You looked over the stuffies your Aunties had bought you, but they were all far too big to fit in your pocket.    

One of the stuffies caught your eye however as your dug through the little pile of toys.  It was on the bottom of pile, and you hadn’t seen it since you moved here.  It was a lovely and soft grey kangaroo, with pointy ears and a long tail.  You rather liked kangaroos, because while they were a completely different species to bunnies and could only be found in the wild in Australia, they kind of reminded you of really big rabbits.  As you pressed the soft fur to your cheek, something small fell in your lap.  Picking it up, you realised it was a baby kangaroo.  It must have fallen from the big kangaroo’s pouch.  It was perfect.  The perfect size, the perfect feel, the perfect squish.  You rubbed it against your cheek.  Bliss.  Holding it gently in your little hands, you squinted your eyes and ran your thumbs across the soft fur trying to figure out the perfect name for your new pocket pal.  Bailey.  She seemed like a Bailey.

And it was Bailey who you clung to, you hand shoved deep in your pocket, when the Headteacher Mrs Brinley called you all into her office.

You watched as both your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah shook hands with Mrs Brinley and then you all sat down on big uncomfortable chairs across the table from her.  You’d never been in her office before, so you took a moment to look around, noticing a bunch of certificates in big frames on the wall, a huge bookcase full of books and some photos of who you assumed were her family.

“Well, while we were very, very sad to hear about what has happened, we are glad that Y/K is back at school with us.  Hopefully being back in class will help her with getting back to her regular routine and schedule and assist her in feeling more settled.”

Her voice wasn’t unkind, but everything she said always sounded like she’d been rehearsing for it like it was a speech she had to give in front of the whole school.

“We have both of your phone numbers, as well as the number for your workplace, and we will call you should there be any issues.  But I’m sure Y/K will do just fine.”

Your Aunty Leah gently squeezed your hand that wasn’t firmly stuffed in your pocket, clinging onto Bailey for dear life.

“Mrs Green is going to meet you just back out in the front office and she will walk you up to class.  So, unless anyone has any questions, I’ll let you all get to it.”

You all shuffled back out the front office, where your teacher was waiting for you.  Aunty Lessi knelt down and gave you a big cuddle.

“Okay Bunny. You have fun on your first day back, alright?  And if anything goes wrong, or you don’t feel good or you feel sad… you just let your teacher know to call us okay.”

Aunty Leah leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead and stroked your cheek.  “You’ve got everything you need in your backpack, so you’re all set to go.  You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

“We love you.”

The walk to your classroom was mostly filled with your teacher telling you about all the things you’d missed while you’d been away from school.  A little bubble of dread was beginning to build in your stomach as you realised all the work you now had to catch up on.  But by lunchtime that bubble had been replaced by a boulder.

Holding your lunch box and book tight to your chest, you looked around the hall for a spare seat.  Normally, you and Nora would sit together to eat your lunch and then go to the library, but to make a bad day even worse Nora was away from school today.  You had spent a solid 5 minutes looking for her, but according to a student in her class she’d had to stay home because she a nasty tummy bug.

The hall was quickly filling up as students grabbed their hot meals or lunch boxes and sat down at their chosen tables.  It quickly became apparent that the only spot left was one on the end of a table filled with some of the children who didn’t like you.  You’d spent so long looking for Nora, you’d been left with no other option.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

With a deep breath, you headed over to the table.  You sat quietly in the seat, hoping you would go unnoticed.

You didn’t.

“Why you sitting with us, Y/K?  Isn’t there anyone else you can sit with?” Jessica asked as you unzipped your lunch box.  You just shook your head in response.  A chorus of grumbles followed from the rest of the kids sitting at the table.

“Eww yuck, why does she have to sit with us?”  

“Where’s her weirdo friend?”

“Maybe she can sit on the floor instead.”

You just tried to tune them out, grabbing a sandwich out of your lunch box to munch on.  Your first bite was interrupted when the boy sitting beside you, Max, nudged you.

“Hey, were those your new Mums who brought you into school today?”

You hastily swallowed your sandwich, wanting to explain. “They’re my-” It was no use.  The group quickly began announcing their thoughts on the matter before you had a chance to correct them.

“Two Mums?  How can someone have TWO Mums?  That’s not right.”

“Yeah, my Dad says that it’s disgusting when two boys or two girls are married or kiss and stuff!”

“Oh yeah, like, have you ever saw two lads kiss? It’s weird!”

“I saw two ladies kissing when my Pop took me to the football last week.  He said they were going straight to hell!”

“As if she wasn’t weird enough, now she’s got two Mums too!”

Something inside you snapped, and you found yourself with your fists clenched and your cheeks red, Bailey long forgotten in your pocket.

“Yeah, well, they’re not my Mums, they’re my Aunties.  And they’re really nice and really clever and super cool.  And they play football for England, and and for the red and white club with the cannon!  And my Aunty Leah is the captain and everything! So that’s cooler than any of your families, ever!”

There was a short silence before they all started laughing.

“Girl’s football!  That doesn’t count!”

“That’s not real football!”

“Arsenal!  Pfffft.”

“I can’t wait to tell my Dad about this.”

“One of them looked pregnant when I saw them outside the office.  There’s no way they let her play like that!”

“That’s why they shouldn’t let girls play!”

“Wait, how is she having a baby if there’s no Daddy to put the baby in her?”

Whilst the rest of the comments had begun to muddle together and fade into the background as you tuned them all out, this last one pierced through.  Your head shot back in the direction of Jessica, the girl who had asked the question.  She was looking straight at you with her eyes squinted, twirling a strand of her hair around her pointer finger.

You hadn’t ever stopped to think about this.  To be honest you’d never really been interested in where babies came from.  You knew that whilst it varied from breed to breed, bunnies were pregnant for an average of 31 days and had litters of babies.  You also knew that humans usually only had one baby at a time and they were pregnant for around 9 months.  But you didn’t know how either bunnies or humans became pregnant.  Honestly, you were stumped.

“Guess you didn’t learn that in any of your stupid books, huh? Loser.”

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[selineram3421]

👁️

You're Off-key

Part 1

Prologue

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ italics=thoughts, swear words, some or many book of bill spoils, blood, mentions of a concussion, minor panic attack, we pacing now lol, ugh Disney mention ⚠

Ow..

You woke up in pain and the sunlight hitting your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Like a lot.

Geez.. You thought with a groan. Why is everything so bright? What is this vividness? Disney?

Sitting up, you notice that you're still in the woods and it's around noon or at least in the afternoon. Rubbing the back of your head, you try to remember what happened.

I was in the woods..with spaghetti and..my best friend was going to take my picture. Ow-!

You hiss and you pull your hand away from your head, finding blood once getting a look at it.

"Oof ok, time to go get help.", you said to yourself and stood up.

Like any gamer out there, you checked your surroundings before checking your inventory. So far you were deep in the woods that looked oddly..cartoonish? And you had a backpack nearby with a water bottle, phone, and wallet inside.

Where's my flashlight? Wait, I had a flashlight? Also, where's by bestie?

Every time you thought about it your head would start hurting.

"Never mind that, I have to get moving before it gets dark out.", you sighed and began walking.

In all honesty, you did not know where you were going. Just picked a direction and decided that was good enough. Maybe you'll find civilization or maybe you're walking deeper into the woods. Who knows!

My brain is a little optimistic right now. You thought. Or maybe it's due to lack of sleep.. I was driving the whole time.

Then you started getting a little clumsy.

Tripping, swaying, falling flat on your face a few times, and overall just feeling drained. Also, you kept hearing maracas? Was that some kind of bird or something?

Ah, wait. Wasn't that the Hide Behind? You remembered about reading it in Journal 3 and that scene when Mabel says maraca owl. Maybe it is a maraca owl or maybe it's the tall thing that follows people.

Currently, you were laying on the ground because you fell..haha. AGAIN.

Thank Glob you landed on grass this time.

Ok. Do I or do I not take a nap? Probably not the best choice because I might have a concussion. Hm..the choices.

Deciding on one last try, you push yourself off the ground, take a quick sip of water, and continue on your journey! Nothing was gonna stop you now-!

Oh, a bird!

Then you ran into something, fell back and hit your head on the ground.

It was silly because it was kinda like a light switch.

You were awake and then you passed out,

Ha!

⯅

OW! How many times am I going to wake up in pain!?

"Great job Dipper! You killed someone!", a feminine voice said.

"They aren't dead! They just hit their head and passed oUt after they fell!", another voice says with a slight voice crack.

"Haha ha!", the girl laughs. "Your voice cracked."

Slowly waking up, you feel a type of rocking motion, like you're in a car or something.

A car!?

You sit up quickly. Too quickly and almost fall out of the golf cart but someone manages to pull you back to the seat.

"Whoa! Careful, you do not want to fall out of this thing when going almost full speed.", the female voice says next to you.

Looking over, you find a brown haired girl wearing a keyboard sweater.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! I have a pet pig named Waddles!!", she introduces herself loudly.

You feel your head hurt at her polite screeching.

"Ow. Hold on, give me a sec.", you say and rub your forehead.

"Uh.. Mabel? It's not a good idea to be loud around someone who just woke up after hitting their head.", the guy says, who you are assuming is driving the golf cart.

"Oops.", the girl, Mabel, smiles at you sheepishly. "My bad."

You wave her off.

"It's fine, I've dealt with worse.", you reassure.

"Let me start again.", she says and extends a hand for you to shake. "I'm Mabel and the one driving the golf cart is my twin brother, Dipper."

"STOP THE CART!"

The golf cart screeches to a stop and you hobbled your way out, beginning to pace back and forth.

Holyshitthisexplainsalot!That'swhyeverythingwassobrightandcartoonybecasuethisisfuckingDisneyshit!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH-!

"Uh..you ok there?", Mabel asks.

"Um? Maybe? I-", you begin but then panic about what to say next.

Shitshitshitshit! Think of something! Anything!

"I don't remember how I got into the woods..", you say and cringe.

Yeah! Nice job! Now you're suspicious! YA DOINKUS!

"O..k, so you hit your head harder than we thought.", Dipper speaks up. "Let's get you patched up and see what we can do from there, ok?"

Pros: Going with two of your favorite characters will lead to adventures. Cons: They might try to read your mind to see if you're a threat and might threaten you with some random weapons..

.....

"I guess I can go with you guys until I can go to the hospital or something.", you say and finally stop imprinting foot prints into the dirt.

"Cool!", Mabel cheers. "Let's go! I've got Mabel juice in the fridge and I wanna see if the new dinosaurs inside taste different!"

"That's not how that works.", her brother mumbles and puts the golf cart in drive.

Hopping back on, you notice your backpack was opened.

"Uh? Who raccooned into my pack?", you asked.

"Racooned?", the Pines driving asks.

"Dug through your stuff? That was Dip.", Mabel says, completely understanding what you meant.

"Oh, sorry.", Dipper pipes up. "That was to see your ID, nothing else. I mean, wouldn't you try to identify someone after they passed out randomly?"

He is kinda right.

"Understandable racooning.", you say and start to brain storm ideas for a plan on how to stay under the radar.

Ok, so I might have/most likely freed Bill and now I have to do something about it before he's running wild around Gravity Falls again...fun.

You sigh and just decide to sit back and enjoy the ride for now.

Jerk didn't let me keep the pictures.

The sun was starting to set, within a few minutes you saw the Mystery Shack in the distance.

23 1 12 11 9 14 20 15 20 8 5 16 9 14 5 19

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @+?

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

[doctor-dusk]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

well, your second time on omegle definitely wasn't that bad.

warnings: male masturbation, nipple playing, exhibitionism and voyeurism.

word count: 2.4k

part. 1

well, everyone was hyped for part 2 and consequently me too lol, hope you enjoy it :3

your week passed slowly. torturously slowly. all you could think about when your mind was empty was him. you replayed the scene in your head like a movie. your favorite movie, actually.

‘’you've been having your head in the clouds lately,’’ your mother would say when you were caught too distracted. all you could do was smile and agree with her. you really were too distracted to think about anything other than alex.

in the nights that followed, you found yourself sighing between your sheets, vividly remembering every detail, every moan, every eager stroke, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. you found yourself asking too much if your parents were going out again on this friday, needing to contain your excitement as much as possible when your mother confirmed that they were going to a company party where your father worked.

‘’don't forget to take the trash out.’’ your mother told you for the second time as she walked to the door, your father was already waiting for her inside the car.

‘’yeah, don't worry. will you be back long?’’ you asked, but you weren't genuinely worried about whether they would be late, but rather how much time you would have alone.

‘’i don't know. i'll text you, but if it gets too late, don't forget to lock the doors and windows.’’ she said, giving you a brief kiss on the cheek, leaving the mark of her red lipstick like a soft tattoo on your skin.

‘’alright. bye, have fun!’’ you said waving excitedly at them, watching the car leave the garage, the anticipation running through you from the inside out, you just wanted to see the car disappearing from your field of vision so you could finally run to your room.

you left the door ajar, running to the kitchen just to take out the trash, and when you finally found yourself free, you ran back to your room.

your laptop was already on above your bed, the lights on the same way you had left them last friday. you looked at yourself in the mirror on your vanity, seeing if you looked presentable enough for him. you had even put on some mascara, it was almost pathetic to think that you weren't even hoping to want anyone to see your face.

but as you always told yourself, he was different.

you typed the website so quickly that you even got some letters wrong, but the search engine was equipped enough to already have the website saved in the search bar, since you had visited it once.

and of course, you covered your face again. you were no longer interested in talking to strangers and learning about their crazy addictions. now, you just wanted him.

you had been there for almost 40 minutes, jumping from conversation to conversation, hoping to find him, like in a cliché where you accidentally bump into your love interest and end up knocking your books to the floor. but here, as time passed, the uncertainty became greater than your hope.

did he lie? did something happen, did something unexpected prevent him from showing up tonight? did you go to the site too early? too late?

the questions ran like a carousel in your head as you watched the different people in different scenarios pass by like photographs on your laptop screen. you swallowed hard, thinking about giving up. maybe he can show up next friday. or maybe you should stay a little longer. just a little longer...

you stopped skipping conversations as the familiarity of the scene hit you. was it finally him?

you could only see from his chin down to part of his waist. this time, he was facing forward. last time he was sitting on his side. the angle was different, certainly. 

but oh, it could be him, it had to be him. you knew you had seen that fist clenched around that cock before.

you were silent for a while, clearing your throat before speaking.

‘’alex?’’ you asked, bringing your face a little closer to the screen. his hand stopped, and just like you, he also came closer to the screen, and now you could see his face.

‘’there you are.’’ he smiled warmly. ‘’i was waiting for you.’’

‘’and i was looking for you.’’ you answered, pulling the blanket off your face since you no longer needed to hide. ‘’i thought you wouldn't be here tonight.’’

‘’told you i’m here every friday. it's like going to church on sunday.’’ he joked, relaxing a little more in his chair, his toned muscles flexing a little as he found a comfortable position. ‘’is the angle okay for you? i can change it if you want.’’ he asked, adjusting the height of the camera a little.

‘’yeah, that's fine. as long as i can see you.’’ you suggested, seeing a little smirk sprouting on his lips.

‘’oh, i see. you seem to have been really looking forward to seeing me again, huh?’’ he deduced, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, his right hand resuming his slow and subtle ministrations. as always, you could only see the tip smeared with precum, but it was enough to make your body a little warmer.

‘’i'd be lying if i said no.’’ you bit your lip. something about him made you feel bolder, you didn't know exactly what.

‘’mhmm, that's what i thought. do you want to tell me how your week was? you know i like to hear your voice.’’ he suggested, starting a conversation so you could say something, his breathing was calm, as were the movements of his hand. you could tell that he liked to build the mood of the moment before intensifying it.

you summarized your week as much as possible, sparing some details because you weren't that interested in talking about your week when he was slowly masturbating in front of you, surprisingly attentive to what you were saying, humming in agreement without interrupting you. as much as talking about something mundane while he did this was unusual, you enjoyed it.

‘’it seemed like a pretty tiring week. i'm glad you're here, by the way. i was also looking forward to talking to you again.’’ he admitted, making you raise your eyebrows.

‘’you were?’’ you almost giggled, but you couldn't help it.

‘’oh, you know i was.’’ he said in a purr. ‘’i kind of like seeing you look at me like that. you're an excellent spectator.’’

you felt a knot in your stomach, like butterflies circling inside you like a whirlwind.

‘’can i see more?’’ you asked anxiously. he tilted his head, looking at you.

‘’wanna see more, baby?” he chuckled, his head falling back against the back of the chair as he pretended to think, his thumb ghosting on the tip, spreading the wetness around it in a lazy motion. ‘’let me see... do i get something in return?”

you thought for a moment. it was fair. whether you liked it or not, the only thing you showed him was your face. and deep down, you wanted to be seen by him, little by little.

‘’what do you want to see?’’ you asked, settling yourself in your bed.

‘’anything you want to show me.’’ he replied, his tongue ran over his lower lip, wetting it a little with saliva. ‘’but it's okay if you don't want to show me, i just thought it would make things more interesting.’’

you chuckled. as always respectful. well, he certainly deserves this.

you sat on the bed for a moment, out of his field of vision. you took off your shirt, keeping your black bra. you made the right choice, it accentuated the curve of your breasts, giving the impression that they were bigger. plus, there's a cute bow in the middle.

you lay back down on the bed, your almost bare torso on full display for him, his eyes going a little wider as a lewd smile appeared on his lips.

‘’boobs. i like it.’’ he said and you chuckled, he looked like a child in a candy store, like he wanted to grab you through the screen if he could, his grip on his cock getting stronger without him even controlling it.

‘’yeah? wanna see more?’’ you giggled, playing with the right strap of your bra, stretching it as much as you could to loosen it, the elastic hit your skin and it stung a bit, but it was worth it to see how his eyes darkened at the sight of you.

‘’hell, yes. show me your tits, babe. they must be as beautiful as your face.’’ he instigated you, shifting in his chair, his hard cock was more exposed to you now, the tip was almost red, the excitement was already starting to take over him.

you giggled, your hand ran up to your back, unclasping the bra with one swift motion, you were so used to it that it was no surprise when the straps became looser and you could let the piece slide down your arms, and your chest was finally bare for him to see.

‘’gorgeous.’’ he praised you, his eyes watching you like a prey, his hand almost twisting around his cock, pumping up and down. “play with them, can you do that for me, love?”

you nodded, moving your hand up, tracing a path from your belly to your torso, feeling the bones of your ribcage as you ran your fingers tortuously over your skin, getting close to your left breast, supporting the weight of your body on your right elbow, laying on your side.

your palm landed on your left breast, the contact made your skin shiver, your nipple automatically stiffened, perking up as you squeezed it softly, as if you were kneading bread dough. 

you watched his every reaction, his mouth agape, his breathing starting to get ragged as the strands of hair started to fall down on his forehead because now his hand was moving eagerly, stroking his cock faster, fucking his fist like a desperate. 

you moaned softly when your thumb and your index finger trapped your nipple, squeezing and twisting it, the sensitivity was practically at its peak, your panties were so wet that it was almost uncomfortable. you wanted to touch yourself, but you weren't ready to show him that, not yet.

“fuck, you're so pretty.” he panted, his voice was stained as he watched you giving slight slaps on your breast, making it bounce a bit. “i wish i could cum on those tits, cover you with me.” 

the mere thought already made you delirious, your two hands gripping your breasts tightly, your skin flushed right where your fingers pressed, like a blank canvas being painted red. 

“yeah, just like that, baby. so fucking beautiful, playing with your tits for me, you like that?” he asked you, pausing for a moment to spit on his own cock, the saliva sliding down the tip, down the rest of the length, and soon he moved his hand again, spreading it and making it slide easier. 

you nodded, your lip was trapped between your teeth, but soon you opened your mouth, adhering to his idea, bringing your fingers to your mouth, your tongue running along your digits to make them wet enough so you could spread saliva across your nipples, the wet feeling made everything better not only for you, but for him as well.

he panted desperately, nearing his climax and you wanted to keep your eyes very wide to see him, your boobs almost sticking to the screen of your laptop, as if you wanted to rub it in his face.

“god, i'm gonna-” he said, his sentence being replaced by a broken moan as he came, the jets of cum shooting out of his slit as he spasmed slightly, his hips jerking against his closed fist around the base. “oh, fucking hell…” he trembled, his body completely spent on his chair, just like the last time.

“are you okay?” you chuckled, moving back a little to get back to your starting position, supporting your body on your elbow. 

“yeah, yeah, just… fuck, give me a minute.” he gestured with his hand, he was clearly still recovering, his body was experiencing slight spasms as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

you gave him time to recover, he blinked a few times, taking a few deep breaths before settling back in his chair and looking back at the screen, widening his eyes a little.

“shit, can you believe it splashed a little on the screen? it even looks like it's on your face, how i wish.” he joked, cleaning the screen of his laptop with a clean tissue, looking for more places where there might be more residue. 

“i do believe.” you chuckled, watching him grab a small bottle of water from behind his laptop to take a few sips. you couldn't explain how wonderful it was to see him like that. 

“tell you what, girl... you wrecked me and i haven't even fucked you. how do you do that?" he laughed, like he didn't even believe it. it inflated your ego.

“i don't know. guess i'm just charming." you said modestly and he chuckled. you adjusted yourself in bed, the material of your panties was sticking to your pussy, your wetness was too sticky and slimy at this point. 

“what?” he asked curiously.

“nothing, i’m just… too wet.” you answered, watching his smile grow. 

“yeah? can i see it?” he asked eagerly, shifting in his chair and getting closer to the screen.

“nah.” you teased, watching him pout. 

“oh, c'mon, you can't just throw this at me like that. now i won't be able to sleep.” he spoke in a dramatic tone and you laughed. “you're a bad woman.”

“maybe next time?” you suggested. oh, of course you wanted a next time. and another, and another.

“ugh, such a bad woman. i don't think i’ll be able to wait until next friday.” he said, his playful dramatic tone still on, making you laugh again. it was true that he wanted to see every bit of you, but you were willing to make him wait. maybe beg for it.

he took his cell phone from the desk, unlocking it after entering the password, looking at the screen again.

“can i have your number? i definitely want a next time.” he asked politely.

“a private session, you say?" you raised your eyebrows, seeing him smile. you both knew very well where this was going. and you couldn't deny that you loved it.

“a private session, baby.”

[nofomogirl]

We need to talk about body snatching

I'm not a massive fan of the 1827 minisode - if you're curious why it bothers me, I've explained it in my post about two GO canons - but there's no denying it does an amazing job at exploring the complexity of morality and moral choices. It starts with a very black-and-white two-dimensional image and gradually adds shading and perspective, making it harder and harder to judge as we go along.

I think it's worth digging into (pun not intended but I'll take it).

Layer 1: body snatching bad

We learn someone did something

It's those first few seconds where we see a person robbing a grave, and since we know that robbing graves is a crime and generally not a good thing to do, we can quickly form a tentative conclusion that this is wrong.

Okay, in this exact instance, we immediately get enough context clues to see that this kind of judgment would be oversimplistic and superficial. Only Aziraphale, who for some reason acts as if it was his first day on Earth after a thorough memory wipe, is ready to condemn Elspeth based on just that.

Nevertheless, this is the first layer - the deed itself with no context.

Layer 2: body snatching acceptable

We learn about the person who did the thing

That's the whole journey with the first dug-up body where we get to know Elspeth and become privy to her circumstances - she's desperately poor, she has another person depending on her, she robs graves to survive. Aziraphale's suggestions that she might earn her living by selling books, weaving or farming just serve to prove how inaccessible more honest and dignified professions are to her. In turn, her comment about how she's not hurting anybody who isn't already dead hints that from the realistically available options, Elspeth could have chosen something much worse.

Technically this layer is a significant step up from layer 1 but it still isn't really challenging. Things are spelt out really loud for us, and most importantly everything we learn about Elspeth is just attenuating circumstances. To top it off both she and Wee Morag are immediately endearing. The takeaway is that sometimes things that in theory are bad can be excused which is important but the verdict still comes without any second thoughts.

Layer 3: body snatching complicated

We learn the larger context around the thing

This mostly happens when Aziraphale and Crowley discuss body snatching with Mr Dalrymple. We learn that the stolen corpses are used for a medical study that can advance human knowledge and make it possible to save living people and that surgeons have no legal means to obtain enough of them for their research - hence their need to buy them from body snatchers.

At first glance it's just more of what we got in layer 2 - more agruments in favour of body snatching that aren't all that nuanced and don't really give us any pause - just from a larger perspective, beyond Elspeth's individual experience. But if you glance more than once you'll notice this is when things stop being straightforward and easy to judge.

The moment we enter a proper grey area is when Aziraphale asks why Mr Dalrymple doesn't acquire the bodies himself. This is a very valid question - while we might easily agree that studying the human body to further medical knowledge is a good thing, and with just the slightest hesitation admit that it's acceptable to resort to using stolen bodies if that is the only way the research may continue, it's not as easy to excuse taking advantage of the poor and the desperate to do the actual stealing that we know is very dangerous.

The moment we know without a doubt we are in a proper grey area is when Mr Dalrymple laughs at Aziraphale's concern.

Objectively, the surgeon is right that it's more effective if he doesn't risk his own life in the graveyard and uses his time on actual research, teaching students and saving lives. But it's also clear he doesn't exactly see people like Elspeth as actual human beings and feels he has every right to use them. On the one hand, he is paying, on the other, he happily benefits from the cruel class system and is not even one bit remorseful about it. On the one hand, he takes risks too, on the other he has a chance of rewards Elspeth will not benefit from. It's not the poorest whose lives will get bettered by the progress of medicine, even though they're the ones who pay with their lives for that progress. And if Mr Dalrymple gets lucky and is knighted for his work (we know he wasn't in the end but it was a possibility), the poor still won't be pardoned for stealing for him. Nevertheless, he has no issue with that.

As I said, things get nuanced.

Layer 4: it's different when it's someone you know

The thing actually happens in your life

I think you'll all agree that the turning point of the minisode is when Elspeth decides to sell Wee Morag's still warm body. This is what finally leaves us speechless.

That's because up until now we've been approaching the issue intellectually. It's not that we didn't care about the characters, but we were allowed to keep a safe distance. The whole thing was like a problem to be solved - "Is body snatching right or wrong? Discuss in 500-1000 words" - and everything we've learned so far was data for this assignment. I believe that one of the reasons why this detachment came naturally was that there was a very thick line between people involved in body snatching and the bodies that were being snatched. The former were, well, people, obviously. The latter were inanimate objects.

It isn't until Wee Morag is to be sold that we are forced to see a person in a dead body. This is also when real emotions enter the equation.

This shift forces us to question our judgment for the first time. It was easy to justify Elspeth when she was selling a nameless corpse. But the fact that she decided to sell her closest companion - and most likely lover - shocks us. Something inside us strongly objects to how quickly she makes the decision.

And then there's the transaction, and it is also different when it's someone we know. The fact that we knew Wee Morag fully exposes Mr Dalrymple for the heartless jerk that he is. The way he treats Elspeth is the absolute worst and if you haven't realized he was a hypocrite earlier, you should be disillusioned by now.

But at least Elspeth is not a hypocrite, right? It may seem cold that she sold Wee Morag but it just proves she simply believed it's all right to sell a dead body, doesn't it?

Well, about that...

Layer 5: it's different when it's you

You are forced to face the thing happening to you

This layer is reached when Elspeth plans her suicide and asks Aziraphale and Crowley to bury her "somewhere where no ghouls will ever dig her back up again".

It turns out Elspeth McKinnon really was a filthy liar.

Not long ago she was insisting that body snatching doesn't hurt anyone who isn't already dead, and asking why she should let Wee Morag rot in the ground when she starves. But she wants to make sure it doesn't happen to her own body. The idea that someone might dig her up terrifies her and she calls people who do it ghouls. So why was digging up other people okay again? Why should she rot in the ground while other people suffer? There were other people living in the street where she and Wee Morag hid. Why not ask Aziraphale to give the money to them? Or just anybody in need? Why not ask to sell her body as well and use the earnings the same way?

Also, if you look at it from a certain perspective, Elspeth betrayed Wee Morag in the worst possible way. Wee Morag believed that if someone's body gets cut, that person's soul cannot enter Heaven. Yet Elspeth sold her to Mr Dalrymple, claiming that Wee Morag would have wanted her to have the means to survive. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Wee Morag would have made that sacrifice. But then Elspeth decided to kill herself and use the money she got for Wee Morag's body for her own funeral.

But does it make Elspeth wicked? Certainly not. She's simply torn by grief. I seriously doubt she's been planning to commit suicide when she was taking Wee Morag to Mr Dalrymple. She might have genuinely tried to carry on but the reality of what happened caught up to her. Mr Dalrymple's cruel words certainly didn't help her cope with a personal tragedy. I even suspect one of the reasons she sold her friend was that she had no idea what else to do with a dead body.

Does this excuse her actions? Kind of, but not really.

Elspeth was a tragic character, not an innocent lamb with a heart of gold.

The point is - can any of us really judge her?

Which, coincidentally, is a question that the original Good Omens book toyed with quite a lot.

If you've reached this far, thank you for reading!

[mactiir]

ranking baldur's gate characters by how i think they smell

#9) Minthara. Because she’s a corpse, next question.

#8) Lae'zel. You know this woman has never bathed. Washing is for the weak, is'tik. She says this is because needs her musk to attract mates but mostly it's cuz Gith education doesn't exactly make time for personal hygiene. Once it got so bad that Tav dragged the whole party through a chest-deep stream and stood there for 20 minutes to take a "breather" while Laezel stared daggers at them the whole time.

#7) Karlach. I want Karlach to smell nice so badly, and Karlach probably wants Karlach to smell nice too, but you know this woman smells like brimstone and engine exhaust and sweat. On good days she smells like the fine char you get on burgers on a summer day. On bad days she smells like a truck stop at peak hours, and the truck stop is also on fire. She's not happy about this either.

#6) Gale. Gale tries to keep himself groomed, he really does. But he looks like he is perpetually just a tiny bit smelly. Like he hyperfocused on a book slightly too hard for slightly too long and as a result he forgot to shower for a week. He acts like he bedded Mystra because of his towering intellect but really it's cuz gods don't have human senses of smell. His nightshirt looks velvet, too, and you KNOW it can't be easy to get smells out of that shit without a washer. He is one of those poor guys who is cursed to always stink a little bit no matter how much he showers. When Tav confronts him about this he decides, on the spot, that deodorant is for anti-intellectuals, actually, which he wouldn't have expected Tav to know but it's okay, we can't all be enlightened.

#5) Minsc. He doesn't reek exactly, but you know he's 100% man musk, hamster bedding, and butt-kicking

Tied for #5) Jaheira. You know 100 years of living in forests and adventuring with Minsc has endowed her with exactly the same level of manly perfume as Minsc (except with notes of cedarwood).

#4) Wyll. He used to be the best-smelling until Mizora pulled him through every level of hell in rapid succession, and now he smells a little bit like brimstone all the time. He sometimes rubs fragrant herbs on his horns to counteract it, which doesn't get rid of the smell, really, but it gives his smell an interesting dimension. Otherwise, he has enough experience with adventuring, and is well-bred enough, that him and his things are usually well-groomed (and also because his dad was a freak about it).

#3) Shadowheart. This woman puts on tragic makeup every morning and changes her hair to reflect her religion. Appearances are EVERYTHING (especially when it comes to keeping secrets). Shadowheart smells exactly like she thinks she needs to smell to be religiously pleasing to her goddess and/or coMplEtE thE mIsSioN. She does get anxious sweats though, which are very distinctive if it's been a long day of adventuring. She never admits this, though. Ever.

#2) Astarion. Okay, so, sometimes, he smells just the teensiest, tiniest bit like dried blood. But mostly, he smells like baby powder and potpourri. It is a waste of good fashion sense and his pretty face to go about stinking like a beggar. (He does go through a brief 'Cazador can't tell ME what to do' phase where he stops bathing for a day, but he grosses himself out so much that he resumes his normal routime before anyone notices.)

#1) Halsin. You'd expect him to stink, with his whole smelly-hippy free-love vibe, but nah. The man smells heavenly. He spends all his time frolicking through fragrant herbs and lounging in scented hot springs with whomever strikes his fancy. He probably has a whole ass medicine cabinet full of stuff he uses to freshen up. His breath probably smells like mint and his hair like cedar. He probably puts coconut oil or smth in his hair. He knows how to smell good as literally any animal in the realms. Wanna know why? Dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than people. I bet bears do, too. You do Not Fuck As A Bear without understanding not only how to WASH your ass, but also perfume it. Halsin also knows: thou shalt not give yeast infections. And if you got bear dick, that means HYGIENE. It's a point of pride for him, actually.

BONUS: WITHERS. Withers smells like nothing. Like, freakishly, unsettlingly like nothing. Like, you expect him to smell like dust or pitch or smth. Nope. He's a black hole of smell. You come near him and if you ask, he resets your entire hygiene routine for 100 gold and leaves you smelling like roses.

[dreamwatch]

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Black Friday pop-up event.

Prompts: Black, Friday, "I'm not standing in line for that", Leftovers, Trampled, One Day Only, "I am giving thanks."

Yeah... all of them, and you're right, it was a stupid idea.

Word Count: Pt3 - 4954 | Rating: M | CW: Past suicidal ideation (very subtle, blink and you'll miss, I'm just being cautious) | POV: Mixed - Pt1 Eddie, Pt2 Steve, Pt3 Eddie | Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | Tags: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Gareth CC, Jeff CC, Matt CC, Wayne Munson, disabled Eddie Munson, pining, protective Gareth, protective Steve, kissing, guitars, reference to canon typical injuries, references to blood and injury - please let me know if you think I've missed any.

Part 3

For the first time in years they get lucky; Wayne gets Christmas off. He says it’s because he worked Thanksgiving, but Eddie overheard phone calls that maybe he shouldn’t have been listening to, and he has a suspicion it’s more to do with the fact that for a while there Wayne was facing all his future Christmas’s alone and this one’s kind of special.

They’re watching the TV, eating too much, and sipping on beers. It’s normal. Just regular Christmas Eve in the Munson home, but the weight of it, the what ifs, hang in the air. It’s not oppressive, or sad, it’s just … there. It should be a sign, probably, that he and Wayne need to have a good talk, maybe work through a few things. But Wayne isn’t a talker, doesn’t understand why anyone would go to a shrink, he buries his shit deep. When Eddie thinks of his father, he was much the same. It probably shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone, then, that Eddie likes to keep things locked away, hidden from public view.

He sips on his beer and he eats his cookies, and he smiles at Wayne and Wayne smiles back. They know what they have. It’s enough.

They don’t get visitors often and he can’t think of a single Christmas where they’ve had one that wasn’t a cop, so when they hear the knock at the door they both look at each other like deer in the headlights. The bad knocks, the ones that end up with shit on the doorstep, or notes on the door telling him to move away if he knows what’s good for him, they don’t come as often as they used to. The last one was around Halloween, which in some regards he kind of expected; every town has a boogeyman and sadly he’s it for Hawkins. They keep a baseball bat behind the door where most people store their umbrellas. 

Wayne answers the door, fist twitching, but then Steve is wandering into his home, flakes of snow on his eyelashes and in his hair. 

“Hey sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, I just wanted to give you these.”

He hands over two badly wrapped gifts, something bottle shaped for Wayne who seems a little shellshocked at getting anything, and a small navy blue package for Eddie, with way too much tape holding it together. And he knows gifts aren’t a quid pro quo kind of situation, but he’s honestly been back to back with appointments and just life in general, and he doesn’t get out as much as he would like, seeing as he still can’t drive, so his heart sinks a little at it.

“Shit, I didn’t— sorry, I was just so caught up—”

“It’s nothing. Honestly, it’s just something I saw that reminded me of you.” 

His voice peters out as he says it, and Eddie feels that little kick, the little squeeze in his core, but he just can’t help it. Reminded me of you. Like he’s important enough for Steve to think about. And isn’t that something?

Reminded me of you.

It’s a little fan, breathing life onto a flame that he just can’t afford to have lit any further. Tamping it down is getting harder and harder.

They talk for a few minutes, but it doesn’t matter how many cookies or beers or sodas Wayne offers him, he declines them all with a sorry, got to get back. He gets up to leave and Eddie walks him to the door.

“What are you doing on Friday?” Steve asks.

“Hmm, I’ll have to check with my secretary, my diary gets booked up so far in advance these days.”

“He ain’t doin’ nothin’!” Wayne shouts. “And close the goddamn door, you’re letting all the heat out.”

“Jesus Christ, old man, keep it down. No fucking privacy here. Well, as you heard, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ apparently.”

It’s a pretty accurate impression, which he knows Wayne heard and he’ll be paying for that for a while. But he made Steve laugh, so it’s entirely worth it.

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at four, be dressed and ready to go.” Steve hops down the porch steps back to the car. 

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out on Friday. Get inside before you freeze to death, Munson. Merry Christmas!”

“I’m going, I’m going, why is everyone such a nag? Merry Christmas, Steve!”

He should wait until tomorrow, but the little blue package in his hand feels like it’s burning him. He sits on his bed and tries his best to peel each piece of tape carefully, but the fucking thing is covered in it so he ends up ripping the paper off anyway. 

The guitar strap is neatly folded, blue embroidery singing against the black leather. Guitar picks slip onto the floor at his feet. 

His breath falters, trapped in his throat, and it’s several long seconds before he takes a deep breath again.

His guitars were some of the only things saved from the old trailer. Wayne told him how lucky he was to be at the back, how most of his precious possessions survived. He even hung the Warlock on the wall of his new bedroom. It felt like he was being watched, like an eye following him around the room. It felt like a living thing in a way that scared him. 

And it wasn’t just the thing of it, the object that got carried into battle - even if that one was a version from another world - it was the way it sounded in his hands now. He tried to play it just once, and once was enough to know it would never happen again. The shake in his hand was frightening, the lack of control, the dissonant noises that rang from it. He chalked it up to some weird phobia, a reaction to what the guitar meant now. But then he picked up his old Fender knock off and it wasn’t any better, and it hit him that it was gone, everything he had practiced, everything he worked for, it was gone just like that. Now he had a shaky left hand and no grip strength and moving his fingers along the fretboard was an effort not an instinct.

It was over. And he never wanted to see that fucking guitar again.

But now he’s sitting here with a beautiful guitar strap in his lap and guitar picks all over the floor, things that Steve chose for him, because they reminded me of you, and it’s painful in a different way, in a way that he can’t examine right now because he just doesn’t have the strength for it in the middle of a Christmas he was never meant to see. He wraps them both back up in the crumpled blue paper and puts them in the bottom drawer of his dresser, pulling a pair of sweats over the top.

Christmas is… emotional. But like in that quiet ‘we’re not gonna talk about it’ way that he and Wayne have perfected over the years. There are pats on the head, hair ruffles, side ways glances when Wayne thinks he’s not looking. Weighty, but not unpleasant. It’s a lot to know you’re loved so deeply, a lot to know how difficult this would have been for Wayne if Eddie hadn’t been here.

(There’s things about that day, about the decisions he made, that he tries to keep hidden from everyone, himself included when he can manage it. They haunt him at night when he’s alone in the house by himself and has time to dwell on them, but when Wayne rests a calloused hand on his head, it’s almost like forgiveness. He hopes Wayne doesn’t know. He hopes none of them know.)

When Friday swings around he feels entirely too much like a kid in a candy store, and if Wayne notices his slightly hyper demeanour when Steve pulls up outside, he at least has the grace not to mention it. 

Steve doesn’t open the car door for him. Anyone looking on, watching Eddie potter down his steps unevenly, crutch in hand, would read that as rude. Eddie reads it as trust, as being listened to, and most importantly being heard. Other people struggled with that, so many of his friends, fuck, even Wayne, wanting to step in whenever they thought he needed a hand, but never really hearing him when he said he was fine. And look, he’s a stubborn fuck, he knows this, and he hasn’t made this easy on people, he could have - should have - asked for help at times, but having one person in his corner that listened to him made him feel less powerless. That it was Steve made his heart sing.

Steve still won’t tell him where he’s going, so they do what they usually do, argue over the radio while Eddie tosses tapes around in the glove compartment. Eddie doesn’t get out often, mostly of his own choosing, so these moments mean a lot to him. Painfully normal. 

Painfully normal with Steve by his side.

He starts to nod off to the sound of Cyndi Lauper coming through the speakers, but he catches sight of the sign to Indy and it wakes him up with a start. He glances at Steve who definitely knows he’s being stared at because the little smirk on his face grows. Something in Eddie grows with it.

Twenty minutes later they’re pulling up outside Sandy’s.

“Holy shit,” he says, almost under his breath. “I haven’t been here since… fuck, last year I think? How did you find this place?”

Steve unbuckles his seat belt, that smirk firmly still  in place. “Friend of a friend.”

And then, because Eddie’s world hasn’t spun out from beneath him enough this year —

Steve Harrington winks at him.

And it’s not a wink like, sports and jocks and rough-housing with the kids wink, it’s a wink. It’s loaded. It takes up space in the car. It passes between them, a little bird Steve set off into the air for Eddie to catch with careful hands.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but it feels like it will collapse around him if he asks, his little tower of cards that just got to the second level will flutter to the ground. So he laughs it off, calls him a dork and then gets out of the car.

They take a booth at the back, sliding in, face to face. 

“Have you eaten here before?” Eddie asks.

“Just the once.” And there’s that smile again, and that little thing in him that keeps so deeply hidden continues to unfurl.

The waitress approaches to take their order, and Steve gets in before Eddie can.

“Two chilli dogs with extra onions, two sides of cheese fries, and two peanut butter malts, please.”

He didn’t even look at the menu.

The moment she walks away, Eddie leans forward.

“How do you know my order?” He’s a little rude with it, though he doesn’t mean to be, and for the first time Steve looks unsure.

“I told you, a friend of a friend.”

“Gareth. You can say Gareth, Steve. I’m not stupid.”

Steve picks up the salt shaker, rolling it idly between his hands. “I just wanted to do something nice, for Christmas, you know? Is that so bad?”

“You did something nice for Thanksgiving.”

“Uh, no, I tried to do something nice. Consider this a do-over.”

Eddie does his best, tries not to read too much into the fact that Steve knew his order, or that he asked Gareth for help, or that he ordered the same thing, or that he spends the entire time practically moaning as he slots the hotdog into his mouth in a way that honestly looks filthy as fuck, but he can’t possibly know what he’s doing, or what he’s doing to Eddie specifically.

He does his best. But a boy can dream. 

Steve pays, which just makes it all so much worse. Is this how they feel? All those girls from Hawkins High? Is this what it means to be wooed by the Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?

They get back to the car, and Steve starts her up, the cool air from the vents turning warmer as they sit there. 

“That was… that was really cool, actually.” 

“Yeah, those hot dogs were awesome. Seriously we need a place like that in Hawkins.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No I mean… you bringing me here. It’s my favourite place to eat. It was a really nice thing to do. Thank you.”

Steve looks delighted. “Good, I’m glad you liked it. And hey, it wasn’t burnt this time, right?” 

Steve laughs and Eddie tries to but he can’t, is the thing. It’s all kind of caught up in him, like a tangle. He’s confused, and warm, and happy and a little sad, actually. He surrounds himself with things he wants and can’t have. Sometimes he can live with that, but sometimes it hurts.

“Thank you. Like, honestly,” and he let’s a puff of air out of him, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. Blowing the sting from them. “I haven’t been there since my birthday last year. It was kind of a tradition, you know? I didn’t get to go this year, so… yeah, thanks.” And he means it. Truly and honestly means it.

Steve taps the steering room, out of rhythm to the song on the radio, a nervous little tick Eddie’s noticed before.

“So, there’s one more thing. Uh, one more place I want to take you. If that’s okay?”

He looks so earnestly at Eddie, like he’s honestly scared Eddie will say no to him when right now Eddie doesn’t think he would deny him a fucking thing.

“Yeah, of course. Lead the way, sire.”

They don’t drive far, but they move into the suburbs on the other side of town and into a little neighbourhood Eddie recognises, before pulling up somewhere Eddie knows very well indeed. 

Wayne was the first one to bring him to Rudy’s Music Shop back on his twelfth birthday, when he got that old Fender knock-off from Gary at the plant. It needed strings, and it buzzed like crazy and Rudy’s was cheaper than the big store in the middle of the city, so they visited and Rudy fixed it up for him, almost as good as new. And when he was finally ready for his first serious guitar, something metal that he would take the world by storm with, it was Rudy’s that he went to. He couldn’t afford a lot, but the Warlock was a trade in, barely used but with a couple of big chips in the paintwork. Rudy cut him a deal, and Eddie spent three bucks on red nail polish and you could never tell they were there unless you knew where to look.

“Steve… ?”

“I um… Wayne told me about this place. I thought it would be nice to visit. It’s been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers.

Steve taps him across the chest. “Come on.”

This time he does let Steve help him out of the car, the long journey and the cold starting to wear him down. They walk over to the window, the red neon sign glowing bright into the dark street, the guitars stand like soldiers under it, and he feels the pang of want. It feels like the twist of a knife.

“You wanna go in?”

Eddie’s not sure where it comes from. But something in him stirs, something that feels like bravery, and he finds himself wanting just that. But…

“It’s closed,” he says, trying his best to keep the disappointment from his voice. “But thanks for bringing me here, it was a really lovely thought, you know.” 

Steve walks right past him to the door and knocks three times, and in a moment Rudy is there, unlocking the door and ushering them in.

“It’s good to see you, kid,” says Rudy.

“Uh— shit.” He starts laughing, it bubbles up from nowhere and he feels a little delirious with it. “It’s good to see you too. Sorry, it’s just a lot, being here.” He gestures around the store at the walls of instruments.

Rudy laughs softly, “Yeah, I bet.” Then he looks at Steve and says “You got half an hour then I got to lock up. You want the, uh—” he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Uh, give us ten minutes?”

Rudy nods before heading out back, pulling the office door closed behind him. Then it’s just them, and Eddie’s head is spinning like a fucking top.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Promise not to get mad?”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “Why would I get mad?”

“I thought maybe it was time to get that new guitar.”

Eddie tips his head back, looking up at the ceiling painted with famous musicians. He stares B.B. King straight in the eye. B.B. Stares right back at him.

“Steve, I just… I can’t.” He blows out a huge puff of air, and it feels like he’s emptying his heart as much as he’s emptying his lungs.

“I know you sold the Warlock. And I get why.”

“No, you don’t!”

“Okay, so explain it to me.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“You can’t run from everything, man.”

It’s like a slap and Eddie turns on him. “Oh fuck you!”

All of it’s falling to shit, all the good, summer, the trips to the drive through, the summer spent in the Harrington’s pool. Cold nights tucked up against each other watching horror movies. A burnt Thanksgiving dinner. 

A guitar strap.

Steve reaches out to him, squeezing his wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just. You’re so fucking talented, Eddie, and I hate that you lost the thing you loved the most. You deserve better than that.”

Eddie scoffs. “How do you know I was talented? You’ve never heard me play.”

Steve smiles softly and digs into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a cassette before waving it gently in the air. 

“Borrowed it from Wayne. Blues, huh?” And there’s that smirk again, like he’s won something, and fuck it. He has.

“Fucker.”

“Me or Wayne?”

“Both of you.”

There’s a pause, Steve opening and closing his mouth like he's working out what to say next.

“Why did you lie? Why did you sell it?”

It’s not an accusation, just an honest question. If it were anyone else Eddie would fob them off. But it’s Steve, and he deserves so much more than that.

“Because it wasn’t the same, Steve. I couldn’t look at that fucking guitar, I didn’t want it anywhere near me, man. It just didn’t sound the same anymore. I didn’t sound the same. And it just reminded me of everything, every time I looked at it, Chrissy, and Patrick, and the bats--” He heaves in a breath. “Do you know what it’s like when your dreams are stolen? For them to just disappear overnight?”

Steve’s eyes drop to the floor, but he replies with a nod.

“I had a basketball scholarship lined up. Until Billy smashed a plate into my head, anyway. It’s not the same, I know, but I do get it.”

Billy was a bastard, and Eddie never liked him, and it’s awful but all he can think right at this moment is that he’s glad he’s dead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that,” he says softly.

Steve shrugs. “Shit happens. It’s what you do after that matters. Come on,” Steve takes him by the hand, locking their fingers together, and Eddie’s breath slams to a stop as Steve leads him to a stool and amp. “Rudy said you can play whatever you want. Just point and I’ll grab them. But there is one, I kind of put aside for you. If you want to try it?”

Alternate dimensions haven’t got a thing on what ever the fuck is going on here today. He barely nods before Steve runs off like an excited puppy. He returns a moment later, carefully holding a guitar. 

“So, I know this isn't like, metal, or whatever. But Rudy said it’s got a really nice tone? And it’s a lot lighter than your Warlock, so I thought… “ He coughs, suddenly sounds embarrassed, “I just thought it would be easier for you.”

He recognises it immediately; a Gibson ES-335. But not sunburst or cherry red, like everyone knows it for, but in a washed out sky blue. It’s scratched, the paintwork chipped in places, but it’s clean and otherwise clearly well looked after.

“It’s beautiful.”

Steve’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Tentatively, Eddie reaches out for it and Steve hands it over almost reverently. It is lighter than the Warlock, though it’s bigger. But the rounded cut outs make it fit him better, it rests comfortably on his thigh. He runs his fingers up the neck, feels the comforting grab of the frets under his finger. The loss of it all hits him so suddenly he feels himself fall back, like a gust of wind carrying his grief slammed into him. 

“Yeah,” he manages to say, but his throat is closed tight and theres no way Steve doesn’t hear it. 

Steve kneels in front of him, places his hands on Eddie’s knees and a spark fires through him.

“Play me something.”

“What?”

Steve beams at him. “Anything you want.”

He feels a tear slip over his lashes, and he watches as Steve traces it down his cheek, wiping it away before it falls from his chin.

“No tears on the guitar,” Steve whispers. “Not good for the paint.”

“Fucker,” Eddie laughs wetly. “Plug me in.”

Steve sets him up, with a little direction, then sits on the floor in front of him, legs crossed, like a toddler at story time, his attention undivided.

It’s rough, the first chords are chunky and stilted, he doesn’t have the strength or the dexterity that he once had, certainly not the speed. But as his hands warm up, as he falls into it, the rhythm, the vibration of the strings under his fingers, the callouses softened from all these months without steel underneath them. His eyes slip closed and he plays by feel again, and without thinking he starts striking chords, the D, into the F sharp, G into the A. He smiles to himself, before opening his eyes, and he and Steve lock eyes, sitting in the dark in Rudy’s, just the neon red lighting them up. 

You’re the one I’ve waited for

He sings it openly, part challenge, part declaration. 

I need your love more and more

His breath is knocked from him as Steve rushes forward, hands on Eddie’s cheeks pulling him in, his lips pressed deeply into Eddie’s. Eddie grips the guitar in one hand, covering Steve’s hand with the other, holding it there. When the shock passes, he kisses back just as fiercely, lips finding one another in the red glow.

Steve breaks apart first, breathless with giggles before leaning in for another quick peck. And then another. And then he takes the guitar from Eddie, gently places it on a stand before standing in between his legs, his hands on Eddie’s face, tipping him back, before leaning down to kiss him again, slower this time, more softly.

“I’ve thought about this for so fucking long.”

A sound escapes Eddie, air rushing out after a punch to the solar plexus, to a place deep within him.

“You have no idea, man,” is all Eddie can manage in response.

There’s a cough from behind them and they split apart as fast as they came together.

“So, uh, we taking that guitar, boys?”

“Yes,” answers Steve, at the same time Eddie says “I don’t know.”

“Do you like the guitar?” Steve asks.

“I love it.”

“Good. Then we’re taking it.”

Rudy carefully places it into a case and hands it over before letting them out onto the street, and wishing Eddie well.

“But I haven’t paid—”

“He’s all paid for kid. All yours.”

Eddie is dazed when he makes it back to the car. He looks at the little store front in the dark, the neon fighting the orange glow of the street lamps for the honour of lighting the sidewalk. It was a minute ago but it seems like a dream already, like a spell was broken the moment they walked back onto the street, and he’s not sure it happened. It’s too ridiculous to imagine that it happened.

Steve climbs in beside him, looking every bit the King of Hawkins High, smug bastard.

“What just happened?” Eddie says to no one.

He catches movement beside him, Steve pushing his fingers through his hair, checking himself out in the rearview mirror before repositioning it.

“Well, I took you to dinner, then I brought you to your favourite guitar store, bought you a beautiful guitar and basically took you out on the best date you’ve ever had.”

Eddie nods absently. “Oh, is that what happened?”

Steve looks like he’s actually thinking about. “Yeah, pretty much,” and he winks again, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to Eddie now. 

They drive back to Hawkins, Steve stretching his hand out to hold Eddie’s every time they come to a stop light, Eddie squeezing it tightly like it might disappear, like it might be the last time he gets the chance.

They pull up outside Eddie’s little house, just as snow starts to flutter to the ground again. Steve leaves the car running, the heat blowing out onto their faces. Eddie feels a little flushed. He’s not entirely sure its the heater though.

“So…” he starts.

Steve throws his arm across the back of Eddie’s seat. “So.”

“Did that really happen? Because, I was dead for about five minutes back in March and they said there could be lasting consequences from the oxygen deprivation and—”

Steve shuts him up with a kiss and not for the first time Eddie’s pleased they moved to a private little house where they can’t be seen from the street.

“Firstly,” Steve says when he let’s go, “Don’t ever joke about that.” Steve’s cradles his jaw, thumb stroking at the raised pink of the scar that sits there. “But yes, it happened. All of it. Maybe I was a little slow off the blocks. Let’s just give thanks for me getting there sooner rather than later, huh?”

Eddie can’t help the bubble of laughter. “Oh, I am giving thanks, trust me, big boy.”

Steve’s eyes narrow as he leans in for another kiss.

“Oh we are totally circling back to that,” Eddie says gleefully.

“Shut up.”

They lean in again, and this time he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him close, his lips parting ready to kiss, until a loud knock knock knock on the window has them flying apart.

Wayne peers in at the two of them as Eddie rolls the window down.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of us.”

“This strikes me as something you might want to do inside.”

Steve combs his hands through his hair, nodding. “Yep, absolutely. We will definitely do that.”

“Not tonight though,” Wayne adds, and honestly, Eddie loves this guy, he does, but fuck does he pick his moments to get parental. “Goodnight Steve.” And then, because Eddie’s suffering is his greatest pleasure, he smirks and says. “Hope it all went well.”

“Would you just leave, please, now. Thank you.”

They both watch Wayne walk back up the porch steps, a sly smile on his face.

“Fucker.” Eddie sighs into one more kiss, Steve meeting him across the console. “I should go.”

Steve hops out to grab the guitar - his guitar, and that’s going to take a while to get his head around - and carries it up to the porch for him.

“Call you tomorrow?” 

“Please,” Eddie says, feeling for all the world like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush. So, this is what it’s like?

Steve gives him that stupid little wave and smiles at him, but as he’s about to get in the car he calls back.

“Hey, what was that song you were singing?”

Eddie laughs. 

“Oh, uh, Love Hungry Man. AC/DC.”

“Holy shit,” Steve laughs. “Don’t hold back, Munson.”

He shrugs, delighted. “What can I say? Speak your truth, right?”

Eddie stands in the cold as he watches Steve drive off into the night. Flakes of snow begin to fall again, shimmering in the amber street lighting. He sticks his tongue out to catch them. He feels giddy, kind of light headed and for a second he thinks he’s over done it today, he should get in, get his pills and sleep. 

It takes a moment for it all to filter through, for his brain and his body to catch up with one another, but eventually it hits him; he’s happy. He’s never let himself want before, not big things, not things he can’t buy. He’s spent years hiding big parts of who he is, even from his closest friends, with only the dream of moving to a city to give him real hope for a connection with someone. For love.

And then Steve Harrington, brave, smart, wonderful Steve Harrington, knocks the wind right out of him, turns his world upside down, the good kind this time, and now not only does Eddie get to want, he gets to have. 

He sticks his tongue out again to catch a last, fat flake of snow, and then carries his guitar inside. 

He has a lot of practicing to do.

****

Holy shit. Full disclosure, I wrote most of this today and I'm sleep deprived and I can't bear to think how many typos and errors there are in this, but I'm trying to hit a deadline. Feel free to let me know what I fucked up. 😂

[missmugiwara]

Got It Bad ♡ Part 1

summary: fem!reader x Luffy. You ogle the Straw Hat captain, and he takes you for a ride. Make of that what you will! warning: 18+, slightly NSFW, very suggestive Note: IF YOU AREN'T A LUFFY SIMP, THEN I WILL MAKE YOU ONE. First tumblr fic, let's gooooo! Kinda long. I'm so nervous.

♡ You can read Part 2 and Part 3 here! ♡

God, you had it bad. How long were you going to last like this? You were sure to snap at any moment. And when you did snap, you would go right after your captain. Could he not feel your gazing eyes boring into his back?

You licked your lips. They were suddenly feeling dry. So was your throat, and that meant it was time for a sip of the drink Sanji just gave you. When you were done, you placed the drink back on the table where the cook had lovingly placed it. You lowered the book from your face and tilted your sunglasses off your nose. Your attention was directed elsewhere at the moment. The laughter of Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy was much too distracting to focus on reading right now. However, it was one special person of that trio that had your undivided attention.

Oh. Your captain.

There he was in utter perfection.

You longingly gazed upon the rubber man who was smiling, laughing, and just enjoying the day. Everything went silent around you - the only thing you could hear was your heart thundering in your chest. All you could focus on was the captain. Your god, your rock, your heaven - and yet he had no idea how you felt. It was killing you, honestly! You wanted to tell him how you felt… but how would that go? Luffy was a simple man - you were positive that he could understand these types of feelings, but… has he ever really interacted with these types of feelings from others? Surely, he has to know something - or at least understand why people want to kiss or get married. You shook your head. It didn't matter here, and you wanted to stop asking yourself these difficult questions.

Besides, it wasn't fair! He was just running around with no shirt on - getting sprayed by a hose Usopp was wielding. These sunny days were amazing (but also tortuous) because it allowed your captain to run around like this and left you to ogle.

Shirtless. Wet. Gorgeous.

Jeans shorts that were soaked so badly that they clung to his skin. Denim gets quite heavy when wet, so they clung to his hips in desperation of staying up - but no good. They rode a little lower as they began to slip, but not quite enough that they would fall completely. Hmm, was he even paying attention to that? You took the sunglasses off your face for a better view in the sunlight.

Luffy's dark-as-night black hair stuck to his forehead in cute, messy waves. The small little scar under his left eye almost grinned at you like the grin upon his lips. Your eyes lowered from his sun-kissed face to his scarred chest. Beads of water glistened on it as it heaved up and down from his breath while he ran. You took a few moments to stare at his musculature, wondering how would it feel if you could just lick every part of his abs? How would it feel if you could just kiss each part of his body?

Luffy let out a loud laugh, and your eyes darted back up to his face.

And that smile? You swooned. Oh, his warm, beautiful smile. There was so much in that smile. He was genuinely happy being with those he cared most about, and the simple things made him so joyous. You couldn't help but tilt your head to the side and beam at him. His personality was contagious. How could you not step back for a second and appreciate these little moments together of playing in the sun? He taught you that. As high-maintance as Luffy was, there were always these slowed-down moments where you could just genuinely feel so happy near him. Not a care in the world. His smile was ear-to-ear, and he let out a laugh you could never get sick of.

It was hot out enough already, but goodness. These feelings for your captain made your heart skip a beat. You would have been fine just admiring from afar, but there was a moment when the three goofballs stopped for a second to catch their breaths. Then, they were nonchalantly walking toward you for a drink break, but you weren't ready for social interaction yet as your head was still in the clouds, daydreaming of Luffy. Instantly, you sat up and grabbed the nearest thing you could to appear as natural as possible - the plate of drinks Sanji left on the table.

Shakily holding the tray, you called out, "Hey, guys! Thirsty?"

Did that sound natural? Did they sense you were lusting? Or thirsting? Did anyone see you stare at Luffy with amorous eyes?

For a split second, you turned to reach for a towel to wipe up some lose water beading on the glasses, only to feel yourself being slightly launched off your chaise. You turned around to find Luffy, nose-to-nose with you, who happily took a seat. You froze, clutching the towel close to your chest.

"What did Sanji make?" Luffy grinned, not giving a damn about how close he was. You quickly forgot how to speak and words and… oh god. Luffy stuck his tonge out from his mouth and let out a deep exhale at the unbearable weather.

"Whew, I'm soooo hot!"

Oh, he had no idea.

Your mouth salivated, staring at the scar on his chest and having your mind fantasize about all the ways you could just run your hands over him. Could you stare any harder? God, how many ways could that rubber body bend if you could just have your way with him all night long? You looked back up at his soft, gentle face. He was waiting for you to do something, say something, anything! You realized you hadn't responded to him once, but you were out of words.

Just… try to act normal.

The only thing you could do was smile at him. You reached out and dabbed the towel softly to his cheek to soak up any sweat or water, not like you'd be able to tell at this point. It was something you always did, and Luffy let you. Whether nursing him back to health from battle or cleaning his face after he ate - he'd willingly let you do this, and no one else. Luffy let out a hum, closed his eyes, and proudly pointed his face upward to bare his neck, waiting for you to dry it next. That was new, and it was freaking adorable. Becoming a tad flustered, you looked down immediately out of sheer bashfulness. Your eyes landed on his shorts, and using every fiber of your being, you restrained from asking him if he wanted help out of those later.

Now kiss him.

Wait… no!

This internal battle caused your face to erupt in volcanic heat. Usopp and Chopper's comments sounded like white noise in your ears, and you realized you weren't even paying attention to a word they said. They took their drinks and thanked you while you mumbled a bunch of yeah's and sure's after they merrily ran away.

"Feels soooo good when you do that!" Luffy said as you continued to half-assedly dab his face. Your froze at those words. He had to stop saying all this… this stuff! He slapped his hand over your hand, and you squealed at that. You've held his hand before but only when he was helping you up if you fell, yet this was so much different! It was so… much gentler than you anticipated considering how boorish he was at times. But that slap was the momentum you needed to get moving again like a normal person instead of this horny animal out for flesh and rubber.

"Um, let me get-"

You managed to come back down to earth and reached for the last drink saved for Luffy, managing to grab it before he did - but not fast enough for his next motions. With a slight misjudgment of time, he brushed his hand onto your fingers just as you grabbed the glass. In your not-so-right state of mind your brain just decided to turn to mush… and you dropped the drink all over your lap. You had zero control of your fingers and Luffy's touch made you open your hand on command. How the hell did that work? The drink had spilled all over your thighs, and you thanked yourself for wearing a bikini today so you wouldn't have to worry about washing any pants later. Or maybe later you could use laundry as an excuse to get Luffy out of his.

Luffy pouted for a second upon seeing he could not drink his beverage. Then, a smile reappeared on his lips before he let out a, "Shishi! You spilled!"

He seemed rather amused at your clumsiness. Usually, you didn't screw up like this at all, and even Luffy knew you didn't screw up like this at all. Clumsiness wasn't part of your nature so this was like a great new thing for him to poke at and tease you with later. You felt a tad embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Luffy! I'll go ask Sanji to make another one," you stood up, but took a moment to look down at yourself, "Oh, I'm all sticky now!"

It was as if that were a cue, because Luffy let out a mischievious laugh as he grabbed your wrist, "Then you need to get cleaned up!"

You turned to him. What did he mean?

"Luffy, please let go - OH!"

Before you knew it, he had lowered himself to swoop his arms around the back of your knees, lifting you up into the air. He held tightly but with care. You knew he would never let you fall, but what an embarassing position to be in. Especially in front of everyone! Every one of your friends was outside, enjoying the day much like the three troublesome boys, save for Sanji who was still cooking and out-of-sight. Again, the heat blossomed to your face as your crewmates laughed and jeered at your compromising position. Before you had time to even think, Luffy was once again faster.

"USOPP! CHOPPER! GET HER! GET HER!" Luffy roared while bearing a huge grin.

Luffy took off like lightning, running full-speed ahead while still somehow maintaining a perfect hold onto you as Usopp and Chopper screamed in triumph, holding the hose high into the sky. You gripped Luffy's shoulders for extra balance, and his grip tightened once more around your legs as you began to slip. Your face flushed as his head was pressed into your thighs, the water from his face somehow suctioning your skin to his. You were slipping, and Luffy's face was definitely getting closer to your -

Oh good god!

You looked down at him, and he up at you.

He smirked, "No escape!"

Then, Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around you and himself several times. He pressed his grin against your groin, and you nearly toppled over because of this. Feeling this topple about to happen, Luffy tightened his strong grasp so that you couldn't fall.

"Put me down, put me down, put me down, put me down!"

You shrieked over and over as Luffy's lips were just pressed into the warm space between your thighs, letting out hot breaths against your groin that reduced your legs to jelly. You weren't worried about falling, no, but you were concerned you might just pass out from the feeling of his mouth and the amount of intimate contact. Not to mention, you both were practically naked! You pulled your hands from his shoulders and covered your face. Screw balance. The urge to hide was much greater! You could just feel the sensation of warm, wet skin on skin rubbing and rubbing and -

Usopp yelled once more and put the hose on full blast, dowsing you and Luffy with ice cold water from the sea. The kind of cold that was shockingly painful and yet so refreshing all at once on a hot summer day. You and Luffy screamed from the coldness, and after Usopp stopped running after you both - you and the captain burst into a fit of laughter.

"Okay! Enough! Cold!" You begged Usopp to stop, and he turned off the hose.

As the laughter subsided, both of you panting heavily to try and catch your breaths - you realized Luffy did not let go of your legs. His touch was so soft. Again, you thanked the heavens for this intimate moment with the rubber man. You both stared at each other while panting, you still wrapped in his arms so masterfully. Luffy's muscles flexed in the sun, more water beading on every part of him - completely soaked head to toe. He then lowered you gently, your hands moving from his shoulders to his neck as you readjusted yourself as he did.

Smiling, he let out a laugh as your thumb brushed his jaw up to the corner of his lips. The captain twitched at this, and a small pink blush feathered over his face. He wasn't stopping your touch though. You just reached for him so intimately without realizing it. You weren't even thinking! Would he say something?

You quickly retracted your hand from his face as he unwrapped his arms, placing his hands on your hips to steady you. He could sense you were recovering after being attacked with cold water, but he gave a look that asked if something else was the matter.

After a moment of composing yourself, you pouted at him and lazily slung your arms around his neck.

"That was dirty, captain. I'll get you back for this!" You whispered with a smile.

A smirk worked its way onto Luffy's face. He stared at your lips before blinking and averting his eyes to meet yours.

"That's what dirty girls get!"

He whispered to match your playful tone. Luffy let his hand linger on your waist for a split second before Sanji came out of the kitchen, and immediately Luffy was off. He left you standing with wide eyes and butterflies deep in your stomach. Did he understand what he even said? Did he know what a double entendre was? Those words left your ears burning. You took a moment to stare after him. No, he probably meant you were dirty because you spilled a drink on yourself. Of course! Right?

Yet there was something else in those wild eyes of his that left you feeling otherwise. Especially when he turned once more and flashed another smirk at you before yelling at the cook. Was it just playful teasing or something more? Fighting the growing heat to your face, you smirked and placed a hand over your mouth.

No fair.

Luffy was such a tease, and he didn't even know it.

[mosscreektarot]

Pick An Image: Who will you MARRY?

All about your FS!

To book a personal reading, DM me or visit my Etsy: https://mosscreekpsychic.etsy.com

Group 1~ Top Left

Group 2~ Top Right

Group 3~ Bottom Left

Group 4~ Bottom Right

Group 1: Liberation: "The Doubts and Fears still come up; you don't believe anymore that they're you."

Your FS sees your "brokenness" and loves the light shining through your cracks. You've been dealt a rough hand in the matters of love, and your FS understands your trauma. Your FS supports you by CHOOSING you. Again and again, no matter what, your FS chooses you. This steadiness and steadfastness to them is love.

Your FS is a bit of a loner, preferring to enjoy the company of few, rather than casting a wide social net. They are an outdoorsy person, frequently camping, hiking, and staying up till morning just to watch the sunrise. Your FS is kind of scatterbrained ("where are my keys!?"), but HIGHLY intelligent. Your FS is the type of person to observe in social settings rather than put themselves in the mix.

Your FS may come from a different country/ethnic background than you, and has deep cultural roots they are proud of. They do things differently than most people and are never phased by the judgement of others.

Group 2: Right Now: "Stay in the present and don't get too far ahead of the Flow. You'll soon trust that nothing more will come than can be handled each moment."

Your FS is one of the most honest people you know. Sometimes their insight into your mind is a little creepy. They are gentle and kind but are unafraid to speak their mind, even if it hurts some feelings or steps on toes. Your FS is the type of person who loves to debate in the comment section and is really fucking good at it. Not to say they are argumentative, but if they see someone saying/doing something blatantly wrong they will not hesitate to put that person in their place when necessary.

Your FS may struggle with their mental health/self care at times and is extremely good at masking their true feelings. To everyone else they are the happiest, bubbliest, most outgoing person. It's not a lie, but there is a duality between their public and private self.

This could be someone you already know who provides you with guidance and support, never letting you guess they are in need of the same. Your FS is their own harshest critic and is constantly working to better themselves. They are a warm and loving person with a pink and blue aura. You may feel like this person could ~never~ be interested in you or is out of your league but your intuition is wrong in that regard!

Group 3:

Change: "When the ego finally sees the utter madness of trying to control everything, you come to a sacred crossroads in your own evolution."

Your FS is a spiritual "go with the flow" type of person. They believe everything happens for a reason, and live very unconventionally. They're the kind of person who communes with trees and spends their free time barefoot in the grass. "Wild and free"~positive vibes, the type of person to look for the best in every situation, no matter how dark or dire. Loves social gatherings and connecting with new people. Your FS may come off as a bit awkward in social settings sometimes, but despite that are well-received and liked.

Your FS is always smiling and wants to bring the sunshine into your life every single day.

Your FS may be a little out of touch with reality and believe they can positively affirm their way out of situations which cannot be changed. They're the kind of person who would get sick and refuse to go to the doctor for a month, even if it's really bad because they think they will magically get better through willpower alone. Your FS will need to find a balance between their spiritual self and mundane reality. They may need you to be the "authority figure" in their life when necessary.

Your FS is disciplined and responsible when it comes to their career and finances. Oddly enough they have a very "serious" career like an accountant or lawyer and make a lot of money. They spend a lot of it on crystals though ;) .

Group 4:

Gratitude: "Fill me with gratitude for all You give! May I be a vehicle for You wherever I go."

Your FS is an introvert who likes to spend their time with their nose in a book at home with their cats. They love to help others and often rush around trying to provide assistance to anyone who asks. They are the kind of person who sees a car on the side of the highway and pulls over to change their tire.

Your FS is pretty quiet and likes to keep their thoughts to themselves. It can be hard to read them or to get them to talk about how they feel. They have their reasons, so please be patient with them. They are a slow and methodical person who always makes lists and ticks off the boxes of what they need to do in life. They live by a routine and aren't one to make rash or reckless decisions.

They often feel left out of their family/friend circle and feel like nobody understands them or that people wouldn't like the "real" them if they said what was actually on their minds. When you come into the picture they let go of a breath they have been holding their entire life. You connect with them in a way they never thought possible and they realize that it's okay to be themselves and that there is such a thing as "true love". They are forever grateful for your presence in their life and show it to you every day by bringing you tea in bed or buying little presents to show you they are always thinking of you.

[entitled-fangirl]

Two idiots in love. (P4)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.

Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing

Masterlist

Parts 1, 2, 3, 5

..................................................................

Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.

Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.

"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"

"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."

Siphoning another car.

Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"

The two peaked their heads up at her.

Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."

She nodded, "So where'd you go?"

Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.

He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.

Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."

Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.

Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.

"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"

"You don't know."

Joel became defensive, "I know it works."

Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.

Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."

The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."

Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.

…

"Alright. I think that's enough for today."

Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.

Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.

Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."

He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.

She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"

He considered her proposal, "Alright."

…

The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed. 

"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.

"This IS slow." 

Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.

Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"

Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"Well, that guy was GOOD."

Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."

The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"

"Because infected will see the smoke…"

Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"

Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."

Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"

Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.

"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.

Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."

She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."

He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."

She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment. 

Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"

But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.

…

Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.

Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.

He wished he could hold that picture forever.

They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"

Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"

"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"

Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"

"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."

Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's. 

"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"

This made the man stop packing. "…what?"

"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."

Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.

"…Can't I be a little curious?"

He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.

Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."

"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"

This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.

He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.

He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.

She tilted her head, "You don't know that."

He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."

She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"

Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."

She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."

"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."

A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.

She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.

They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.

Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"

"What the fuck is that?"

Ellie interrupted the two.

Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"

Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.

…

Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.

Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.

But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.

They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.

And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.

"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.

Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"

Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."

Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"

Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"

"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."

The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."

"But Joel-"

"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."

The girl knew she didn't really mean that.

Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.

Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"

Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."

He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway. 

But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"

Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."

Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."

"Either way, I'll still be confused."

She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.

Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"

"STOP!"

Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.

A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"

Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"

"Put your damn seatbelt on."

Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"

"No."

And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.

Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.

And it fell towards the truck.

"JOEL!"

Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.

It hit the windshield. 

It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires. 

The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.

Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're not hurt or nothin?"

"… I don't know…"

When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood. 

"Shit."

Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.

He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation. 

"Belts off. Get out."

Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets. 

Joel followed suit.

He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.

He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"

They looked over to the hole in the wall.

"Can you squeeze through?"

Y/N only stared.

"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"

A bullet broke one of the windows.

"And they're not gonna hit you." 

Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"

She did.

"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."

She stopped, "but I can't leave you."

He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."

She knew not to argue.

"Alright. Go."

And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.

He made sure the two got through.

He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged. 

Silence.

Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.

A gunshot.

Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.

Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly. 

He reached down to reload.

And it was jammed.

The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.

Joel was too.

Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit. 

She wasn't sure who was winning. 

But she was going to make sure it was Joel.

She stepped out while the man had his back to her.

Joel noticed and his eyes widened.

When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.

The man was thrown off but not for long enough. 

He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.

Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."

Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.

Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."

This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.

So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.

Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.

So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.

Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg. 

It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N. 

The man backed up to the door on the ground. 

He was just a boy.

And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."

Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.

She couldn't help but feel bad.

Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."

He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."

Joel started to get up.

"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."

Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.

She sighed and handed it to him.

And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.

The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."

Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."

Ellie just stared.

Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."

When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"

Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"

But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."

Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way. 

It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.

She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.

Not like he did.

She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.

She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face. 

His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"

"No."

Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."

And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.

And this Joel was hers.

............................................................

Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!

Part 5

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.6k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

An:I just wanted to tell you to prepare your hearts for the next chapter, because it's going to hurt.😭

Chapter 4: Knowlegde

Two days had passed since Leon had left for this trip. It had also been two days since the castle had been in a state of complete commotion, there wasn't a second when there was silence in the corridors.

That's because preparations for the wedding were in full force. Goods were arriving all the time, decorations were being spread around the castle, all under the queen's supervision.

You had even tried on your wedding dress, which you honestly didn't feel the slightest bit happy about when you looked in the mirror. Not that the dress was ugly, far from it, but the feeling inside your heart about your wedding was something that was too far from happiness.

It was your wedding, but you felt like an intruder.

But today you somehow managed to escape the incessant questions from the queen, or the servants asking:

"Which color is best?"

"Which wine does your highness prefer?"

"Which of these jewels?"

"What kind of flowers?"

These and other endless questions, which frankly you didn't care whether the color of the tablecloths was white or cream, you didn't care much about that part.

Or even whether the flowers in your bouquet should be roses or poppies, either of which would make a beautiful bouquet, so there was no point in getting worked up about it.

It all seemed to be overwhelming you so much, making your head spin in circles every time the subject came up.

Sometimes you felt like running away from all this mess, going back to the comfort of your Palace and pretending that everything that had happened here had just been a bad dream.

But there was no turning back, once you were here, committed, there was no second choice.

Once again you found yourself hiding in one of the corners of the courtyard, a more secluded place where not many people actually came. In fact, the place wasn't as well-kept as the rest of the garden, the vegetation a little overgrown, the trees and bushes untrimmed, even the benches there were full of fallen leaves.

But none of that bothered you, as long as you could get a single second of peace in that place, any space was enough.

You had nothing more than a book in your hands, which you took from the royal library and brought with you for some kind of distraction, which didn't work out very well. Your mind was in a whirl.

At the same time as you were relieved that Leon wasn't around, you couldn't say that you didn't miss him either. As hard as it was to admit.

All you had from him these last few days were two letters, which you didn't bother to read. Maybe you should have, since at least he took the effort to write you something, but you weren't the least bit interested in knowing how things were going for him.

Since, to begin with, you didn't believe at all that he'd gone on business, there was surely another reason behind it.

But it's not as if there was much you could do, just wait and pretend that nothing had happened. After all, isn't that what a good and devoted wife does?

You found yourself at the edge of the water fountain, sitting while your bare hand floated beneath the wet surface. You were just tracing the water, making small movements while thinking about various things. As well as being grateful to be alone there. Your thoughts wandering away, a solemn expression on your face while the sound of birdsong was the only noise there.

As if punished by fate, your peace was interrupted when you heard footsteps, and you mentally prepared yourself for yet another servant calling you in, probably to make yet another boring decision about your marriage.

But to your surprise, no, it wasn't like that at all. You saw the familiar silhouette, the tall, robust man, the gentle brown eyes that you would never mistake.

Duke Redfield, a pleasant presence in the midst of this chaos.

You couldn't hide the small smile that formed at the corners of your lips, your head cocked slightly to one side as you looked at him.

He approached, paying you a courtesy and sitting down nearby, keeping a respectful distance.

"The queen is looking for you." He begins, looking down at your bare hand which was resting under the water of the fountain.

You sigh, locking your gaze with his, "It's more comfortable out here."

Your simple way of saying that you had no plans for whatever the queen's requests were.

Chris nodded, giving you a concerned look. He didn't have to be a genius to know that something was wrong with you.

"It's normal to feel nervous before the big day, it's a major commitment." Chris begins, not looking at you specifically, but at your hand that was in the fountain

Something about seeing your delicate hand without gloves for the first time caught his eye.

You sighed a little, feeling a cool autumn breeze hit you both, your eyes settling on him.

"Maybe that's it… I think it'll pass soon." You answer back. But because you're such a bad liar, he doesn't buy what you say.

He nods, taking something out of his pocket and giving it to you. It was a piece of paper, a letter. It was obvious who it was from.

Leon.

You took the letter without saying a word, just looking at the sophisticated paper in your hands. The impeccable writing that you already knew well. Not that you were in the best mood to read it, but you weren't going to mess it up in front of the Duke.

"The prince asked me to give it to you, he wrote it before he left." Chris said it simply, neither happy nor sad. But at the same time there was something in his voice that conveyed a certain discomfort.

You couldn't tell what. Maybe he knew how bad things were between you and Leon, who knows?

But that didn't matter now, you just opened the letter and started reading. And as much as you hated the situation, you couldn't deny that your heart skipped a beat at every measly word on that piece of paper.

'My dearest beloved' The first words you read, which made you simultaneously giddy and stressed. It wasn't possible for him to be so facetious. Or worse, you fell under his poor spell.

The words expressed in ink and on paper that made you feel tumultuous, confused, feelings that touched you, and that you tried fervently to keep under control.

'I realize that our lives are changing abruptly, but I wanted to ask for your understanding.' You couldn't believe your eyes, asking for understanding at a time like this? You were slowly confirming your hypothesis that he hadn't gone on this trip just for business. Why were you still so foolish to believe him?

'My mother is in charge of the wedding preparations, so I just hope you'll accompany her. I don't want you to be alone.' Once again you put the pieces together, that's why his mother was always after you.

She wouldn't let you walk around the castle alone for a single second, after all, it was Leon who asked for things to be this way.

He wanted to control you even when he was away, wanted to keep you under his watchful eye even while he was away.

Now you understood why his mother had even told you that you needed to do some waltz practice for the wedding. Why would you need to learn something you already do so well?

Or even the fact that she wanted to ask you to help her choose the jewelry she would wear on the day of the event. Shouldn't that be her choice?

It was no wonder the queen sent Leon letters every day, it wasn't just a longing of a mother, it was control over your actions.

You were a lady of royalty, a future queen, you had to behave like one. You knew that perfectly well, and perhaps you wanted to be just a little daring about it.

Looking at Chris next to you, you couldn't let a thought slip your mind, or you could even say that it was an enormous impulse that you possessed.

It was almost time for the instruments for the ceremony to be tested. Just as the renowned musicians were going to be trained so that they wouldn't get the music wrong at the moment of the occasion.

Coincidentally, this was the same time you were going to waltz 'lessons', supposedly so as not to make any mistakes on the perfect day. You were a great princess, obviously. And as an exemplary lady of royalty, you couldn't miss a lesson, you couldn't set such a bad example.

But today, your dance partner would be someone quite different from the usual. The person who was sitting in the purest of silences next to you.

Duke Redfield. Wasn't that a great idea?

You rolled your eyes at the end of the letter, too worn out to bother reading it all at once.

'I hope to return soon, my dearest beloved.' Dearest beloved, you still hated the way he tried to make you believe it was real at some point. And you hated even more that some part of you believed it was real.

With that last part, you put the letter inside the book you were carrying, letting the piece of paper mingle with the others you hadn't read yet.

Not that you were going to read all those letters later, nothing more than a disuse of your time.

You then put your glove back on, giving the Duke a kind smile as you adjusted your clothes. Making sure you looked presentable for a waltz with the Duke.

"I imagine the letter put you in a good mood, princess." Chris broke the silence, looking at you with his gentle brown eyes.

You gave a little smile, fixing the sleeves of your dress as you stood up on your heels, a corner-to-corner smile on your face.

"Certainly in a great mood." You're lying, it wasn't the letter that was putting you in a good mood, it was actually what you were going to do.

As Leon said he couldn't leave you alone, without anyone's company, you couldn't ignore your husband's sweet request. So why not? A waltz with the Duke wouldn't hurt anyone.

He smiled and got up with you, standing in front of you as a melody began to echo through the castle. The perfect moment for you to put what you wanted into practice.

When the wedding choir began to play at full capacity, to the point where all the music could be heard by the two of you outside, you stepped forward and bowed to the Duke.

Taking the opportunity to give the most charming smile you had, a smile capable of bewitching even the toughest of knights.

"May I have the honor of a dance?" You whispered, knowing how bold it was of you to ask.

You were an engaged lady, as well as being from high society. Fiancée to the prince, a close friend of Chris. He had every reason to interpret this as flirting and say no. But something in you told him that he was far from giving you a negative answer.

"As you wish, Your Highness." He returns the bow, moving closer to you.

One of his hands comes up to your waist, the other wrapped around yours, lifting both hands, his and yours, to his shoulder.

Your hand joins his, sharing the warmth of the touch, while your other hand grips your dress, his gallent smile taking your breath away.

You soon began to move your feet to the rhythm of the waltz, and he followed. His eyes never failed to lock onto yours, your smile widening with every step you took in that courtyard.

With every movement, with every twirl through that courtyard, your heart fluttered, you couldn't stop smiling at that moment.

Something about that situation was special, good, pleasurable. A gentle breeze in the midst of the events taking place in that castle. At that moment all you could think about was this waltz, this simple moment.

Chris conducted the dance masterfully, watching as your dress moved along with you, or the tenuous smile you gave him. Your eyes fixed on his as he led you, his hand firmly on your waist, making his presence clear, his touch there.

You carried on, the waltz continued to play as you focused on each other, moving in union in that meaningful dance, where so many unspoken words were being expressed by the looks you two exchanged.

In the middle of the graceful spins, Chris decided to get a bit of attitude and twirled you around in the air, holding you firmly as he did so.

You couldn't help but giggle when he put you down, returning to dance with him around the courtyard.

At that moment Chris could have sworn that there was no smile as captivating as yours, or eyes more passionate than your pair. You were an unlikely partner, but something about you was different.

"That dress looks stunning on you." He breaks the silence as he dances with you, looking at you with that same smile that makes your knees weak.

You nodded, giving him a sweet smile. A smile that was beginning to gain a significant piece of his being.

"Thank you, I'm pleased you like it." You were genuine in what you said, it was really nice to have someone who appreciated things like that. Of course, in a real way.

With nothing but the sound of the music and your heels hitting the floor, Chris continued to take you back and forth, not caring to stop anytime soon.

As soon as he spun you around, you felt eyes on you. You didn't notice much since there were only the two of you in that part of the garden.

But as soon as you looked up at one of the highest windows in the castle, there she was, the queen. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the two of you dancing and giggling quietly in the courtyard, not caring about anything. She didn't look too happy either.

But that's what you wanted, so Leon could know you weren't alone. Wasn't that what he was so worried about? So he didn't have to worry any more.

You just smiled at Chris as if you hadn't seen anything, and he hadn't noticed anyone else watching you either.

When the noise died down, you both stopped, bowing as if you were officially at a ball. You bowed while holding your dress with both hands, giving the most beautiful smile you could give.

And he reciprocated, looking delighted.

"It was a pleasure, Your Highness." Chris says in a soft tone, raising his arm for you to accompany him inside.

"The pleasure is all mine, Duke." You say with a smile, and he quickly corrects you.

"Chris, you can call me that. Forget the formalities, at least while we're alone." You could be crazy, but his tone at the end was almost suggestive.

"Right, Chris." You whisper, and the name slips past your lips in such an alluring way, so right.

He then smiled and began to guide you, while you looked over your shoulder to the window where the queen was standing.

A smile crept across your face as you walked alongside Chris. You wanted her to see.

You wanted it to be as explicit as daylight. After all, giving it back was only fair, right?

What the eyes can't see, the heart can't feel. You'll see how true that phrase is when the consequences of your actions arrive.

Sometimes playing fair is the best way. Even if it means breaking a few rules.

[twstgarden]

✿ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗱 ❞

━ riddle rosehearts x gifted kid burnout! fem! reader ━ being a gifted child is not always deemed as a blessing, and riddle knows the feeling all too well. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @tangybiskit1 request type: oneshot requester’s message: Reader is like the perfect student.(not prefect) She gets full marks, optimistic, kind and charming to the point where even Riddle thinks his mother would like her. But after befriending her for a few weeks he decides to visit reader and her room is a mess, filled with books, scattered papers. It reminds Riddle of himself and you know how that turned out... So he tries to comfort her saying that she is good enough,(ending can be how you want) sorry if it's badly worded😭😭 this is my first time making a request.. florist’s note: oh wow, this hits close to home <3 anyway, thank you for the request, little one! ♥

this work contains spoilers from chapter 1, heartslabyul's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commission are open

perfect. that was how people described you. a sweet, young lady with a bright smile and a bright mind. a lot of the students in night raven college liked you for your charming personality, and there was barely any student that had a bad experience with you.

perfect. you were the epitome of perfect. a beautiful young lady with a sweet smile, a charming personality, and a bright mind. who would not want to befriend you? some students even talked about you to their peers and their parents. now, it wasn’t always painted in a good light. some have been jealous of you, and some wished you did not exist at all. it makes them look bad, you know?

of course, riddle was one of those people. he greatly admired you for your dedication and hard work, and he takes great pride in having you as a heartslabyul resident. you were the perfect, ideal example of what heartslabyul students should be. you followed all the rules to a t, memorized every one of them, and never questioned or disobeyed the rules that may seem too extreme or ridiculous.

“ah, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you in the library, a smile ghosting over his lips. his voice reached your ears as you looked up from your book and smiled at him, “oh… hello, dormitory leader rosehearts!”

that sweet smile.

riddle did not realise his cheeks were tinted pink as he remained smiling at you. he then walked away, not knowing what else to say or how to keep the conversation going. oh, how he wished he could befriend you. he was stuck in this student-to-student relationship with you, and he did not know how to deepen it.

it was going well, at least, that’s what he thought. he made sure he could interact with you at least once a day, to get the both of you used to each other’s presence. he also decided to join you at your table during lunch, eating with you without the need for a conversation. it did not take long until your relationship went deeper than the shallow interactions.

“by the way, riddle… why is your favourite food strawberry tarts?” you asked as you nibbled on a tart that he shared with you. as riddle took a bite of his own, he replied, “it’s sweet and rich with flavours. i rarely ever get to taste it when i was younger, but the one time i did felt like heaven was in my mouth…”

there was a small smile on your face as you listened to riddle. you knew what his household was like. you were there during the overblot incident, after all. “i mean, my mother did get angry at me for eating that… she told me it was too sugary and it’s poisonous for my health…”

unconsciously, your hand went up to his cheek as you caressed it for comfort. riddle also froze as soon as he felt the affection before glancing at you. you realised what you had done and quickly retracted your hand with a blush, “ah— sorry, sorry. i thought you needed some comfort.”

with you around, riddle always felt like he could continue to hold on and move forward. seeing your bright smile energizes him for the day, and seeing your name at the top of the achiever's list always brings a sense of pride from within.

“congratulations, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you standing by the bulletin board. you had a blank expression on your face before smiling as soon as you heard his voice, “oh, thanks! congratulations to you, too.”

‘why do you look sad?’, thought riddle to himself as he noticed your blank expression before acknowledging him. were you not happy with what you got? but you received a 499 out of 500, surely, it’s worth a smile or two, no?

he decided to brush it off a little since you had already walked away, but it was in the back of his mind for a few days now. why did you seem bothered? he knew the importance of getting a perfect score, his mother reiterated that several times.

he did not speak much of it, but he did notice you getting a little distant, even if you are physically beside him. your mind seemed to be in another place every time he tried to discuss something with you. it was clear that something was wrong.

but he did not know how to approach the problem.

riddle tried accompanying you during study sessions, gifting you treats, sharing his tarts with you over lunch, doing mind exercises with you, and many other things. however, they only seemed to fix the problem temporarily.

exam season was around the corner once more, and everyone has been busying themselves with studying. riddle had spent his time studying, but of course, he did not neglect his duties as the dormitory head. as soon as the clock struck 3 in the afternoon, it was time for his patrol around the dorm. he had to make sure all his residents were disciplined and studying.

with one room into the next, he discovered all of them busying themselves with reading and discussing certain sections of their books with their roommates. ‘good work,’ thought riddle to himself as he saw his residents studying. he just hoped ace and deuce were doing the same.

as soon as he reached your room, he knocked on the door before twisting the knob and peeking in. he thought he would see you silently seated on your study table, reading through a book, or taking notes. however, he discovered you seated on the floor, a book on your lap as you wrote in your notebook, surrounded by several copies of papers and books.

you were in a clear state of disarray. your hair was a mess as you checked every paper before writing something down in the notebook. the process continued as you mumbled under your breath, “no, this is not right… the answer isn’t hydrolysis…”

a sigh escaped your lips as you buried your head into your palms, your hair covered your devastated expression as riddle silently walked into your room and knelt beside you, picking up all the scattered notes as you sniffled and glanced at him, “riddle…?”

you did not expect to see him in your room, and you quickly wiped your cheeks as you picked up the remaining scattered papers. riddle held the notes he collected and looked at you, seeing your cheeks, eyes, and the tip of your nose being tinted with a little bit of red from all the crying.

you were having a breakdown. he knew that much. he now noticed why you seemed absentminded and distant lately, especially with the exam season coming up. you were drowning yourself in your studies, making sure you memorized and remembered every single fact taught to you.

“…sorry you had to see me like this…” you mumbled as you grabbed the notes from him. he quickly shook his head as he spoke, “no… you don’t have to apologise. how long have you been cooped up in here?”

“i’ve been here all weekend…” you replied. you’ve been in your room, studying for two days straight without paying much attention to your other needs, and it was evident with the bags under your eyes. he hoped you were at least eating, but as he looked around your room, there were a few wrappers from the snacks you ate and an empty water bottle.

a sigh escaped riddle’s lips as he held his hand out to you, “you’re a mess. you need to eat… come.” you shook your head, which caused riddle to raise a brow, “f/n, all you’ve eaten were convenience meals with no proper nutrition whatsoever. don’t be stubborn and—”

“i don’t care!”

riddle fell silent in shock. did you just… yell?

you looked up at him, your eyes held glossy tears as you spoke, “i don’t care even if i starve for days! they’re worth nothing if i fail… this is our finals, and it will determine just how much i’m worth…” a soft sob escaped your lips as you bowed your head to hide your tears, “it will… determine how much my parents love me…”

riddle was silent. so, this is what hides behind the perfect f/n l/n. behind that sweet smile, charming personality, and bright mind was a little girl who never had the chance to be a child, to experience what it’s like to have fun, and to know what it’s like to have no expectations to live up to.

how lonely you must have felt.

“who cares if i’m physically well when i make a single mistake on the test? my mother cursed me through the phone as soon as she saw my results…” you mumbled, venting out everything that had happened the past few days, “i’m nothing but a useless brat who wastes their money in a prestigious school… i don’t deserve to be here if i can’t even get full marks to show that i’m learning something…”

riddle knew what it was like to have a parent who seeks perfection in their child, and it was only lately when he realised it was an unhealthy way of living, drowning yourself in your studies to ensure future success to the point you’d neglect yourself. he got closer to you, holding your shoulder as you wiped your tears, “if i fail the finals, they won’t let me continue my education…”

he was stunned. sure, a punishment is given when one does not receive the desired results on a test. that was his norm, too, but completely discontinuing your education because of 1 mistake or 2 on a test is extreme.

“what…? your parents would go that far…?” questioned riddle. you merely nodded in response as you wiped your tears and hugged your knees to your chest, “…everything feels like a chore…” riddle was left frozen, he did not know what to say or do as he never received appropriate support growing up.

he understands your pains, but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. he can’t lie and say it would be better because he knows that won’t do anything.

you have been showing the brightest smile he’s ever seen all the time, but who knew you were breaking piece by piece? all because of the expectations set on you. all because you were the gifted child of your parents, and therefore, you must live up to be the best of the best.

“sometimes i think… i should just stop… maybe if i fail several times, then they’ll leave me alone… but that also means i won’t receive their love and praises… and i won’t be their favourite daughter anymore…”

riddle stayed silent as he sat on the floor beside you, listening to you vent out all that had been stuck in your mind.

“but… sometimes i also think… if i ruin myself too much and fail… i’m worth nothing… who would love a worthless person? then i’ll be destined to be alone…” you cried softly as you kept hugging your knees to your chest, “i’m tired of thinking about this… i’m tired of caring so much… i’m tired of hearing all the curses that come out of my mother’s mouth… i’m tired of repeatedly being told that i am useless…”

the room then fell silent, and only your soft sobs broke the ice as riddle gently placed his hand on your hair. “…you’re not useless just because you got one or two questions wrong in a test…” mumbled riddle as you peeked at him with your face buried into your arms, “and… you’re not worthless. you don’t need to be perfect to be loved… you just need to be yourself.”

as you remained to look at him, you sniffled softly and wiped your tears, “…but…” riddle gave you a small smile, “i know what it feels like to know that everything we learned growing up and the things we are exposed to is wrong… you’ve been told that anything less than perfect is unacceptable, and i was taught the same thing…”

a soft sigh left his lips as he placed a hand on your cheek, the same way you did to him when he spoke of his reason for loving a sweet treat, “you were there when the incident happened, and i have learned my mistakes… now i am here to tell you that you are worth it. you’re not a financial burden, you’re not useless, you’re not stupid, you are none of that, f/n. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… then you’ll understand why i always want to be around you…”

you were speechless. what could you possibly say in response to that? if you didn’t know any better, it felt like a confession disguised as comforting words. receiving no verbal response, riddle got a little embarrassed as he avoided your gaze, “… i said too much. i apologise—”

“no…”

riddle blinked before he glanced back at you, seeing you smile a little at him, “…i appreciate your words… thank you…” seeing that sweet smile, even if it was a small one, made riddle smile as well, “you don’t need to thank me… now, you need to have your lunch.” he stood up and held his hand out to you.

you held his hand and stood up, smiling at him as you were about to wipe any remaining tearstains on your face when his hand gently rested on your cheek, wiping it as he spoke, “i don’t want to see you neglecting yourself next time.”

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[carmasi]

Who made Him paranoid Though?

Here with another ACOTAR hot take. Because I don't have enough already and yes is about TAMLIN.

I see a lot people describing Tamlin as many things, but the one thing that always catches my attention so when they call him "paranoid" Lets unravel this.

When we meet him he is not giving any resemblance of being paranoid, he like any Serious and cursed MC is closed off and bad with women and compliments to the point he need a side kick, here come Lucien.

So far everything is fine, and no ne ever said he is paranoid dam we all love him. Now comes book 2, and we see him dealing with a lot and yet.. he is not paranoid, yes he is worried about his court and worried about how people would see him as the high lord plus all the other things going on. Other than not waking up when Feyre was throwing up, we see he still seems gentle and worried about her.

Comes the wedding, where his biggest fear comes into play, Rhys calls in his bargain. Still, there is no paranoia, worry, concern and despair, yes... but no paranoia, debatable. Feyre comes back and now let's see this, she starts lying to him, to protect Rhysand and his court. Tamlin's concerns when he says she cannot train her powers are valid because he knows another high lord would come for her. This may seem paranoid, but is it really? especially when in book 3 she reveals her powers and suddenly every high lord feels as though she stole from them and wants her head? SO YES he had reasons. Now there is the letter she sent him saying "I am leaving don't come for me" at this point. A couple things,

1- He came back to burnt and ashes and no one had the decency to tell him what happened or that she left caused she wanted (looking at you alis)

2- She cannot read or write...and suddenly is writingg him a letter, while under the care of someone who is KNOWN for literally manipulating people's minds. (no really he's a dematie)

Now come the Hybern take over. Yes the big bad people like to pin on him, the turning of the ARCHERON Sisters. He was betrayed by Ianthe, and has to just stand there while he listen to the King of Hybern flat out tell everyone " I know you can play the fiddle, but you may as well be a fiddle because I played you like one"

Here is where we start to see something snapped inside him. He starts questioning everything; is anyone really his friend? was he even fit to be the high lord? was she even meant for him? then to add insult to injury, Feyre is actively putting herself in situations to make him jalouse, to make him paranoid, actively moving strings in the court to make herself look good until she then leaves.. with LUCIEN of all people The male she had been setting up jealousy traps with So after all this, answer me a question, was he really paranoid or was he made to be paranoid? And who really made him paranoid at the end of the day?

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 5

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, agoraphobia, magical branding, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 4k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7

By your third week of being locked in your room, you felt like you might lose your mind. 

Considering you’d been locked in the house for years you’d think the room wouldn’t be so bad. The actual space wasn’t that much smaller but the real problem was that there was nothing to do. Everything you’d been busying yourself with for years was locked outside, your books, your garden, your best friend. 

Any pretense of freedom had disappeared. You could no longer go outside, chose what to do with your day, or see another living thing. 

Well, most living things.

Eden had soundproofed all of the rooms for her own usage, so no one overheard anything she didn’t want them to. She knew how to break through it and project sound through the walls, something you’d never learned to do. However, you had no qualms about using the soundproofing to your advantage. 

Lucien was less and less incredulous with every new time you summoned him. What do you want’s turned into easy greetings and his exasperation with you faded, although he seemed loathe to let you notice. 

The summonings had become almost daily events. 

You never made it more than an hour or two without at least giving it a shot. Your lack of actual summoning materials or techniques made it so he didn’t strictly have to come, could just decide not to show up, but he almost always did, choosing to stay with you for hours on end. 

Every now and then he’d drop out, feeling a tug of being summoned by some other witch before he’d pop back, unsummoned and of his own choosing. 

Today you were laying back on your bed while he sat on the floor. Even sitting, he was tall enough that your heads were roughly in line with one another. 

You never did much. You would ask him question after question and watch as his answers got more and more evasive, not even to hide anything but seemingly doing it just because he could. He spoke in circles just to watch your head spin and see how long it would take before the questions stopped in favor of throwing pillows at him. 

All the pillows lay scattered around him leaving you tragically out of ammo. You supposed you’d just have to hope that he’d had a change of heart in his neverending quest to irritate you. 

It never worked. Not really. 

Even if it weren’t for the boredom that made you cling to every word, there way something almost charming about his refusal to commit to an answer, to dance around the question and try and make you forget what you’d originally asked, regardless of whether he cared about you knowing the answer or not. It felt almost like a game. 

“What does it feel like when you get summoned?” you asked, curious what happened on his end when he got that distant look in his eyes. 

“Why, do you think you're getting summoned?” he asked with a laugh. “Is there another witch out there who wants to lock you in an even smaller room?”

“Stop it. She’s just worried.”

“Uh-huh. How long do you think this is going to last?” he asked, staring out at your locked door with blatant disgust. 

You were less evasive with your answers. “I don’t know. If it lasts longer I might actually lose it.”

“So let me take you somewhere. Come on, I’ll have you back before you know it.”

Where the teasing and talking in circles was entertaining, this was your biggest point of contention. Lucien had become fixated on getting you out of here, on showing you the world. 

You’d be lying if you said part of your apprehension to leave wasn’t fear. It had been so long, even talking to him had been such a big step. You couldn’t imagine just being somewhere new. 

But you also couldn’t do that to Eden, betray her trust like that. No matter how many times he reassured you that she would never know, it left a churning feeling in your stomach. She’d been there for you for so many years, kept you safe. You couldn’t just leave her like that, behind her back. 

You avoided the topic as often as you could. Other than those little arguments, seeing him had absolutely become the best part of your day. 

You supposed that wasn’t hard to do. You spent most of the time he wasn’t there sleeping, What else was there to do?

You told him as much and he couldn’t quite manage to hide the flash of pity that crossed his face, the one that showed up whenever you mentioned your current living situation. 

He did his best to push past it. “Have you been having fun dreams?” he asked with a grin. 

You tried to brush off the comment despite his suggestive tone and allusion back to what he’d seen before. “They’re fine. Why don’t you show up in them anymore?”

“Just fine? Maybe dream me needs some pointers.” 

You leaned off the bed, reaching for the pillow that lay closest to you on the floor. You managed to get a grip on it right as you started to slide off the bed but Lucien pushed you back up before you could fall to the floor. 

He was rewarded for his efforts by a pillow flying towards him that collided with one of his horns as you let out a quiet harrumph. 

“You’re so rude to me. And why are you asking? I’m here all the time, do you miss me?” he asked, cooing at you with faux sympathy. “Because if you want me there all you have to do is ask.”

“None of that was an answer to my question,” you informed him, well aware it wouldn’t get you anywhere. 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re much more fun when your inhibitions are gone.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure. And do you take a lot of humans to your little sin room?”

“Only the cute ones.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“I could take you back there.”

“You are so shameless. If you want me to get all loose and flirty again just bring some wine by or something.”

“Not like that. I just think it would be good for you to get out, stretch your legs.”

“For the last time, I’m staying right here.”

“Suit yourself,” he said with a huff, as if there was even the smallest chance that he’d finally give up on the idea. “If it were me, I would have killed that bitch by now.”

“Stop it! You will not talk about her like that!” Your defense of Eden was as reflexive as ever. You knew he had every right to be unimaginably angry at her but she was still your best friend, your savior. 

His inevitable upcoming protest was cut off by your dinner being slid under the door, Lucien keeping absolutely still as the metal tray scraped against the floor. 

He hated being here when she was nearby, even if she wasn’t interacting with you much these days. He claimed it was because he didn’t want to get you in even more trouble and get any more of your freedoms taken away. 

You were sure that was part of it. But you saw the way he tensed up when she got close, when any sign appeared of her existence right on the other side of the door. 

He was afraid of her. Absolutely terrified. 

It made your heart ache, seeing him like that, seeing the fractures in his facade. You couldn’t help but wonder what she’d done to him to make him act like this. 

Not that he’d ever tell you. You knew better than to push that point, it was one secret he was more than entitled to. 

You did your best not to dwell on it too much. If you did you’d have to reflect on the way he always put himself between you and the door, the way he tensed up whenever she called out to you, knowing you couldn’t even respond unless she allowed it through the soundproofing.  She never did. 

You couldn’t be sure exactly when, maybe when you summoned him on your own the first time, maybe when you’d told him about all the years you’d spent stuck in this cabin surrounded by the vicious woods, maybe when you’d broken that summoning circle and trusted him, but at some point he’d decided that you were just as much Eden’s victim as he was. Some mysterious point where something switched in his mind and it moved from being you and her against him to Eden against the two of you. 

You didn’t blame him for it. Eden had done horrible things to him, that much was clear. He needed her to be a villain and you could give him that. 

Lucien always waited a long time before speaking after she showed up so you just lay there, attempting to sneak glances at him and getting caught every time. 

Eventually his shoulders untensed and he seemed to decide it was safe to speak again, although a simmering anger still burned in his eyes. 

“She isn’t teaching you jackshit.”

“Well…” you attempted to protest before he immediately cut you off. 

“Not a question. I could teach you, you know. Your little witch isn’t the only one who knows magic.”

You laughed. “And what’s the price? You want my soul or something?”

“Please, if I wanted your soul I’d probably just need to ask, your dumbass would just hand it over to me.”

He probably wasn’t that far off the mark, if your history was any indication. 

You shrugged as you replied. “There’s no real point in teaching me anyways, I’m not very good at it.” You weren’t even sure why he was offering, he’d already seen more than enough of you to know you were a lost cause. 

“Being good at things isn't the only reason to do them. Come on, have some fun with it.”

Everything in you screamed that it was a bad idea, that you’d fuck it all up. But the way he was looking at you, daring you to say yes, managed to override those instincts just long enough to squeak out, “Fine. But you’re not allowed to get mad when I mess up.”

You weren’t sure what to expect of Lucien as a teacher. Whatever those confused expectations in the back of your head were, he certainly didn’t match them. 

He was a patient teacher, letting you feel things out quietly and slowly. His jokes and evasiveness disappeared completely and every question you had was met with a careful answer. 

You discovered very quickly that his sort of magic was very, very different from Edens. 

Eden was all about rules, about maintaining the security and purity of her spells first. Everything was a strict ritual to be observed. 

Lucien’s magic contained a freedom you thought couldn’t be afforded to humans. Instead of a list of materials and steps, what you were faced with most frequently now was instructions to shut your eyes and imagine, to put all the trust you had into the idea that when your eyes opened, whatever you imagined would have happened. 

It was something you struggled with. That faith that it would work. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in the magic, you’d seen far too much for that. It was thinking it would work for you that you kept stumbling 

Where Eden’s magic was like a recipe, Lucien’s felt more like a trust fall. 

And still, you progressed. Without the same confidence Lucien carried himself with, but progress nonetheless. 

He brought you little gifts every time you made progress, slivers of the outside world. 

You’d been getting frustrated with yourself. The very first thing he’d tried to teach you was just the ability to reach out to someone. 

You sat there, day after day, attempting it. The way he’d explained it, everyone had an aura, a little pool of energy that hovered around them. If you focused you could reach out, stretch it thin and find someone else’s. 

It had to be close. Not in proximity but in a more abstract sense. He reassured you that the two of you were more than close enough for it to work. 

One night, after he had long since left, you were practicing and getting frustrated once more when you felt that aura of yours he’d described time and time again bump into something warm, and a sense of familiarity washed over you.  

A moment later you felt something back, a meandering sense of something winding inside of you, pulling at some part of you that made you giggle. Who knew auras could be ticklish? 

The next day he came bearing an eclair. It felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been able to eat something sweet like that.  

You treasured the little paper doily it came on, sometimes just tracing the intricate designs that bordered it. 

A few days later was a soft scarf in a bright red that had been given to you when you opened your eyes to find yourself letting off a faint glow in that same red. 

The next time you managed to do something, this time it was simply to warm up a surface by a few degrees, he reached out and handed you a gift he had at the ready. It made your heart swell that he already had it, like he had absolute faith you’d be able to do something to deserve it. This time it was a tiny ceramic fox that had its little head lifted defiantly towards the sky

You kept them all buried under your pillow, terrified that any day now would be the day and Eden would come in to free you only to see mysterious trinkets that could only have come from elsewhere. 

You kept the fox wrapped up in your scarf, afraid you’d roll over wrong in your sleep and it might break but still unwilling to hide the little treasures too far away from yourself. 

More often than not, you woke up clutching them, a habit you couldn’t break no matter how hard you tried. 

Sooner than you ever could have imagined, you weren’t even afraid to make mistakes around him anymore. When you’d begun, you’d been convinced any slip-up would ruin everything, that he’d give up on you and leave you behind. Now you floundered and messed up spells and it didn’t matter. He made sure that you were alright, that it was safe to learn and eventually you figured them all out. 

“I’m running out of rewards,” he said with a chuckle as you beamed down at your fox, one you’d managed to make wobble without so much as touching it. “That’s how you know you’re getting good. How will I ever motivate you now?”

“Are you kidding,” you basically shouted, pride and excitement welling up inside you. “Did you see what I just did? That was amazing! I don’t need a reward to want to learn how to do incredible things.”

“Maybe. I think you deserve them anyways.”

The comment brought a heat to your cheeks, one that was becoming more and more common in you every time Lucien was here. Another thing you tried not to dwell on too much, lest you get swept up in it. 

His head cocked to the side with a familiar look as you gave him an understanding smile. “Off to see another witch?” you asked.

He sneered. “Yes, your favorite witch, in fact. Well, I shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

He leaned down towards you and kissed the top of your head before immediately dissipating, a move that didn’t feel quite fair. At least it didn’t give him the chance to watch you flounder. 

As you slept that night you found yourself having a familiar dream. The walls of colorful fabrics were a much more welcome sight than the forest that so often plagued your dreams. 

A dream Lucien stood before you, per usual. But something was off this time. It took you a second to place it before you realized that even standing here, passively, you could sense his aura. You knew him too well for the trick he was trying to pull. 

But after an onslaught of little tricks and his rude kiss and run earlier, you were feeling a little more mischievous than normal. Perhaps he was rubbing off on you. 

Before he could say anything to tease you, you strode up to him, got onto the very tips of your toes, and reached up to pull him into a kiss. 

He was too tall for you to be able to pull a maneuver like that without him playing along but he eagerly leaned down to meet you, lips crashing together. His hands fell to your waist, helping you keep your balance as you strained to reach him. 

You pulled away after a moment and looked up at him with a smirk, giving his aura a little tug as you said,  “You really should announce when it's you.”

He laughed. “You didn't give me the chance.”

His hands tightened around your sides, giving you a gentle squeeze as he kept you close. “We don’t have to stop, you know. I’d be a cruel man to rob you of a wet dream.”

Your boldness grew in your chest. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever been around someone and simply not felt nervous before now but these last few weeks, he’d managed to foster that feeling in you. You were eager to try out this new confidence. 

You slipped out of his grasp and fell to your knees in front of him. “You know,” you said, “I haven't been able to thank you for being so kind to me.”

For once he seemed to be at a loss for words. After a moment of floundering, he managed to say, “You don’t need to do that, little one.”

“I want to,” you said, looking up at him with big eyes. 

You barely caught the quiet groan that escaped him. “What did I do to deserve you,” he asked, and it too was quiet. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was a question meant for you or if it was for the universe itself. 

After his little nod of permission, you were immediately undoing his pants, eager to get your hands on him after so many weeks of pining after him. 

Being here, now, it felt silly that you’d denied yourself those feelings for so long. Outside of his little pocket of hell where you’d been able to do as you wished, you’d tried to force down those feelings. 

But now, despite the appearance of his familiar room, nothing was here to help you along. The dam just broke, and you couldn’t help but wish you’d given in much sooner. 

As you pulled down his pants you found he was already hard, his massive cock bouncing up as you freed it of its confines. 

Part of you was glad your first encounter with it was in a dream because it was intimidatingly big. It fit his frame as he towered above you but you were unsure if humans and demons were meant to be together like this. You found you didn’t much care either way. You’d make it work. 

You gave an experimental lick to the tip, your tongue moving lightly across it. 

His hand came down to grab your jaw as you pulled off of him, squishing your cheeks as he angled your face up toward him. 

“You’re too sweet, little one. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“Wanna be sweet for you,” you said, leaning into his touch. 

He released your jaw and tilted his head to the side, giving you the reigns. 

You licked up a long stripe up his cock, from the very base. It felt like the most you could manage, your hands encircling him to make up for what you couldn’t do with your mouth. 

His breathing was coming faster, his eyes remaining locked on your form. As your hands pumped up and down his shaft, focusing most of your attention on licking at the head of his cock, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of him coming undone so quickly was because of the actual sensation and how much was from him getting to watch you. 

He seemed entirely entranced. You felt several times as his hands moved to touch you before pulling quietly away, like he could get head from you and yet was nervous to touch, as if that would make it too vulnerable. 

The more grunts and whines you pulled from him, the more determined you became. You pulled back from your persistent licking, taking him in for a moment. 

He might be massive, but you focused on the fact that as real as this felt, it was a dream. Surely in a dream you could do whatever you wanted. You were most certainly going to try.

You managed to fit your lips around the head, your mouth stretched wide. You swirled your tongue around the tip as your hands worked his shaft, determined to draw even more noises from him. 

You looked up with wide eyes, waiting to make sure you were doing okay. You could feel them watering as you worked him over but you pushed past it as those watery eyes met his, pitch black and full of nothing but lust and adoration. 

A massive hand found its way into your hair, not pushing but caressing as you tried to take as much of him as you could. 

The hand tightened in your hair and he grunted out, “I’m going to…”

That was the only warning you got before he started to come. 

You tried to swallow it all but couldn’t manage it.  It just kept coming, it was too much. You popped off the head with a little cough, the rest getting all over your clothes and making you once again glad that this was a dream. 

This would have been a nightmare to explain to Eden. You might’ve just had to burn your clothes and hope for the best. 

Lucien lets out a gentle chuckle, thumb wiping some of his cum off of your face. “A little over-ambitious but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

You snorted out a laugh and as he looked down at you fondly, you thought you could happily stay here forever.

And then something other than the contentedness and fondness crossed his face, wrinkling his brow.

His expression soured and before you could so much as ask a question, he simply said, “Wake up” and the world around you fell away. 

You woke up frustrated and confused, not understanding why he sent you away. You wanted more and you wanted to stay and more than anything you wanted an explanation. You summoned him almost reflexively, the process second nature to you now.  

Before any of your confusion or frustration could come out, he blurted out, “Let me take you somewhere.”

A wounded little sound escaped you as the moment soured and his obsession with whisking you away appeared once more. “Not a chance.”

“But if you could go somewhere…”

“Can we not do this? Please? I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Shouldn’t. Whatever word you want me to use.”

“Why, because she says you shouldn’t? I say you should.”

“I say I shouldn’t. Isn’t that enough for you?”

The fight normally petered out right about there, both of you frustrated and exhausted with the uphill battle of trying to get the other to understand. 

Not today. Something had changed between the two of you and the desire to linger in it, to bathe in the affection, dissipated as he grabbed your arm and the room around you gave way to the stone walls of an alley. 

The narrow, stone corridor was devoid of people but you could hear the buzz of a crowd not far off, probably not more than a few paces away. It was hard to tell exactly as the noise bounced off the walls, echoing in your ears. 

Despite your anger, you found yourself edging closer to Lucien. Anything familiar was welcome in this alien place you’d been thrust into. 

Your breathing got shallower and you pleaded with him. “Take me back.”

“I will if you want me to. Just not yet. Please not yet. You need to leave, you need to not be there.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes, the trust you’d been basking in being shattered in a moment. “Why are you doing this? I know it’s not for me because I don’t want it.”

“She’s made you afraid. You’ve been tricked and trapped and you need to leave. I need you to leave. You just need a push, that’s it. Just need to be away from her.”

“Listen, just because you don’t like her…”

“No, this is not spite talking, you need to listen to me, you need to figure it out.”

You reeled back. “What?” Surely if he knew something that could change this endless fight, he would have told you. What could there possibly be that you needed to figure out all on your own? 

“You just, you need to ask…” his words were cut off with a yell as he doubled over on himself, runes burning into his skin as he spoke. They shone bright red and it almost looked like he was being branded. 

The anger faded immediately into concern as you rushed to his side. 

“What’s happening, I don’t understand?”

“You can’t say anything,” he insisted, a frantic look in his eyes.

“But you said…”

“I know what I said, you can’t ask anything.”

More than anything, that scared you. The constant pleading for you to break free and push back against Eden and now he was doing everything but that, retracing his steps after unmistakable witch marks were burned into him. 

She’d done this. That much was clear. 

You couldn’t keep doing this. You needed to know, needed to understand. 

“Take me back.”

“I…”

You put everything you had into your voice as you said, “Lucien, take me back.”

The use of his name in his already weakened state with the ruins still charred into his skin was enough, he didn’t have it in him to fight back and you were whisked into the depths of the woods. You returned home. 

[rat-rambles]

Ok we have to talk about the parallels of bill and gideon because I've seen no one do it and there's a lot. Like, gideon is to bill what stan is to Mable and Ford is to dipper. This parallel includes bill and ford's relationship compared to gideon and Mabel's because there are parallels. I will mention how this pertains to billford. This will be long. Book of bill spoilars obvously.

A couple ground rules I have screen shots but only from the parts uploaded to YouTube because I'm sick and not dealing with Disney pluss for this. 2 we're takeing the way this show uses parallels for granted and it's worth mentioning stan, Ford and bill are the bad ending for the pines and Mable dipper and gideon are the good end hence gideon getting redeemed and Ford haveing to suffer thinking stan was functionaly dead for like a few days or something. So yes they are diffrent and there diffreces are thematically important and intentionally nothing in this franchise is an accident and where working with that primis. Lastly, in the book of Bill, I'm assuming that pages from the journal are real and unaltered along with documents. The only thing I will take as true from bill in the book are things backed by other non bill sorces or the show witch I'll cite when we get there strap in.

Luts start easy

1)

Don't mind YouTube auto captions

I'll take over gravity falls and you'll rule with me

2

The outher pine punchs leading to a blue explosion and the thought that oh they might die they didn't.

3)

I couldn't find the one of bill holding them but you know the one

Ok time to get a little harder now

4)

Oh I've hit the photo limit becuse I'm on my phone and like I said I'm sick so I'm not moving but we all remember when gideon and Mable were like "opera glasses" in sync

At the beginning of their friendship, they both show their bonding into deeper feelings for each other by saying the same thing at the same time.

5)

Giddeon also blames dipper for Mable breaking up with him and bill blames stan for getting between him and Ford, also his plans in the book of Bill.

Ok I think that's enough evidence now let me tell you why this is important, starting with their timeliness.

1) villain becomes friends with pines.

2) villain offers pines everything they want (Mable clothes and glitter Ford knowledge of the univers)

3) villain trys to manipulate

4) the split

Mable eventually learns to reject gideon when he gets between her and dipper (by trying to kill him)

Ford at first is completely gungho about bills plan (yes at this point he still wants what bill is offering and gideon dint but he also dint have his sibling to talk him down and that's the point that Ford was vunerable without Stanly to protect him like dipper protected Mable by interfering). When Ford sees bills true nature he dose cut it off like Mable ( as far as wether or not ford is actually into bill romantically using this lens you can go both ways but it kind of dosnt matter. Either he didn't like bill and didn't see that he was uping the romance the way Mable dint see what gideon was doing at first. Or he did see and either willfully played along or was genuinely into the triangle becuase agin old pines are the bad ending that made bad choices. The old men's mistakes are to be learned from kids.)

5) villain react violently

When gidion trys to take Mable by force a thing gideon says bill explained to him (Bill told him to do the love cage same as in the book same as the pyramid in the show) dipper saves her becuse twins that stay together stay alive.

Ford gets solidly mind tortured for what I assume is a couple weeks in the book of bill. ( based on one of the postit note back and forward was every night that's about 6 days and there's about 6 days of mind shanigans recorded after I might have miss counted though) Ford FINALLY calls stan who saves him... by acidently pushing him through a portal, well it works.

6) villain is PISSED and ups the anti by trying to take over gravity falls (wow that's crazy it happend twice ).

7) they resync here villain says their favorite Pines is the love of their life we'll rule together over gravity falls (wether they like it or not)

8) the twin comes to save the villains favorite pines and they punch the shit out of the villain.

9 the pines learn a lesson of twins who stick together stay alive

Now for my point

So besides I think this is some killer writing. I am going to be anoying now becuse yes Bill haveing a fat crush on Ford is cannon and yeah I think that's a big deal because Alex made my queer coded villain king actually queer and that's just deeply cool. Alex set up a standard for what toxic men pursuing a unrequited relationship is and then had Bill do that that's not a acident and the doubling down in the book of bill adding more parallels than we already had from the show witch was alot makes this cristal clear. Now agin how Ford felt we can go back and forward about, but bill no that bitch gay sorry; our god Alex decreed it and there's nothing you can do about it. Thanks for reading K thanks Bye

Special thanks to my crazy girlfriend for editing this 😅 yes it was worse