#about how she put up a bit of a barrier after she found out she was going to be moving for work

[wwinterwitch]

feels like fate – joel miller

summary: you've had a crush on joel for quite a while now and you suspect that he might feel the same, hopeful that something happens at the new year eve's party

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

tags: tons of fluff, mutual pining, reader is a kindergarten teacher, age gap (wrote this picturing joel in his 50s and reader in her 30s), maria, drunk!dina, ellie and jesse briefly featured

a like and/or reblog is always appreciated!

all masterlists | pedro pascal characters masterlist

You feel like a complete fool walking into that New Year's Eve party, not really anticipating just how mortifying it would be to walk through those doors after spending a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair and your makeup...just in a silly attempt to impress a guy.

It felt almost unreal to you. Something so incredibly out of your character. Yet here you are, dressed to impress, making your way further inside as some people that knew you started acknowledging your arrival. Thankfully, everyone you make eye contact with offers you a friendly smile as you walk past them, which helps to ease your nerves.

Most of the people that greeted you were parents of the little kids you teach at the local kindergarten, a colorful building next to the new library. Aside from your job as a teacher, you really don’t stand out much. You tend to keep to yourself, with modest amount of friends and an almost inexistent love life. 

A few dates here and there over the years... casual flings that never really led anywhere...nothing remarkable. Eventually you just didn’t care about that aspect of your life, already used to the same couple of guys trying to get your attention here and there. Nothing that was worth getting excited for.

But that's until Tommy Miller's brother showed up.

That man somehow found a way to turn your world upside down from the moment the two of you met. He caught your eye almost immediately, and even though you could be wrong, you're pretty sure you made a good first impression on him too.

Why else did he offer to fix that light in your front porch when he heard you complain about it with a neighbour, just to then show up at your house a few days later asking if it was working properly now? And why would he sometimes stop by at the school when all the kids are going back to their houses to have a chat with you? It's not like he's the most friendly person either, so why would he bother with you, right? Right?

It sounds ridiculous– maybe a bit embarrassing, too. To let your brain convince you he might like you back. That you’re somehow special enough to break all of the barriers Joel has seemed to build up over the years to push people away. That you could steal his heart just like he has stolen yours. Well…there’s really no harm in fantasizing about all of that.

And yes, you sound completely delusional, but it truly feels like fate. You've never felt this way about anyone before, and you still struggle to comprehend how you ended up in this situation. How exactly did he manage to slip into your heart like it was nothing? Like it’s been waiting for him all along? One day you're shaking hands with a complete stranger and before you know it, you're unable to get him out of your mind.

But maybe you are delusional, and that's why you took extra time to get ready tonight in hopes of Joel noticing the efforts you've put in looking like this tonight. Perhaps he won’t notice. Perhaps he won’t even show up.

You keep walking, looking around for someone familiar enough to strike up a conversation. That’s when you notice Maria walking towards you, a grin on her face.

"Looking good," is all she says, her tone oddly suggestive.

You immediately feel self-conscious, trying to avoid eye contact as you clear your throat. "Thanks."

She could tell you started to feel nervous, so she immediately tries to be reassuring. "I really do mean it, by the way. I just couldn't help teasing you."

"Is it too much?" you ask, slightly panicking. “It is, isn’t it?”

"Absolutely not," she replies almost immediately, like you just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. "Do you feel like it's too much?"

"Well...I don’t know, but I like how I look."

Maria smiles at that, nodding. "And that’s all that matters. If you like how you look then it's absolutely perfect." She takes a brief pause before leaning closer, smirking. "And I'm sure Joel will like it too."

"W-What?" you asked in shock, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I don't–"

"Oh, please! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You two always look at each other like you could quite literally start drooling at any second...heart eyes and everything. It's almost sickening," she comments in a playful voice, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I, uh..."

Before you can answer properly, you locked eyes with the one person you were expecting to see tonight. He has just entered the bar all by himself, looking a bit lost at first, brows slightly furrowed. Then, he notices you’re there at the party, and a soft smile immediately appears on his lips.

"Yeah, that's the look I'm talking about," Maria muttered, right before placing a hand on your shoulder as a way of saying goodbye. "See you later."

You immediately turn to look at Maria again, watching as she walks away to greet other people. Panic sets in when you realize you’re all by yourself once again. Not knowing what else to do, you look down at your hands, fingers nervously fidgeting, very much aware that Joel is walking towards you. It's ironic how the initial desire to be seen by him has somehow turned into the urge to become invisible. You've always been more confident in your head, definitely not anticipating what it would actually feel like to be here in this scenario and how you'd truly react.

His presence is practically overwhelming at this point, forced to look up at him now that he's standing before you. As you take a look at him, you can't help but notice he's done some effort tonight as well. His hair is brushed back and the nice smell of his cologne almost makes you want to lean closer to him.

"Hi." He's the first one to speak, making you that much nervous when you notice his eyes travel down your form. He clears his throat as soon as he realizes what he's doing, immediately looking up. "You look...you look great."

"Thanks, Joel," you reply, a soft smile on your lips. "I was wondering if you were gonna show up tonight, since these types of events are not really your thing..."

"Oh, yeah, well..." he shrugged, staying quiet for a few seconds while he tried to come up with something else to say. You could tell he was nervous, which made you smile even more as you waited for him to continue. "I guess I'm...trying new things. Step out of my comfort zone."

Before you could say anything, the two of you are interrupted when you hear someone nearby. "Dude, this is embarrassing to watch! I told you he's got no game!"

You turn around just in time to see Ellie and Jesse telling Dina to shut up. She giggles as she wraps an arm around the other girl that stands next to her, and her movements let you know she's had a lot to drink already.

Ellie and Jesse look embarrassed that they got caught eavesdropping, although you could tell Ellie is trying very hard to hold back her laughter. "Sorry," the guy says, looking at Joel with an apologetic look on his face.

That's when Dina realizes what's happening. "Whoopsie," she giggles again, dragging Ellie and Jesse away. "Sorry, Joel. Good luck!"

You can't help but laugh at the situation, watching the three of them walking away, noticing how Jesse's lecturing Dina while she keeps clinging to Ellie and trying not to stumble on her own feet.

When you turn back to look at Joel, you notice a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment on his face, barely able to even make eye contact with you anymore. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," you replied almost immediately, knowing you had to say something else to make the situation between you less awkward. "I believe they’re having a good time."

Joel smiles, watching as the trio walks off. "Dina definitely is," he points out. "Can't say the two babysitters look like they're enjoying themselves that much."

"Yeah, that's probably true. Poor kids."

There's a brief silence, not necessarily an awkward one, but you can tell he wants to say something else. Eventually, he speaks again. "How have you been?"

"Fine. I mean, just the usual. A lot of the kids wanted to have a bonfire soon to celebrate the new year, but I still haven't started planning all that. Maybe I'll ask some of the parents for help."

"Sounds fun," he says with a soft smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"You can be in charge of the hot chocolate."

The little joke makes Joel laugh. A true, genuine laugh that makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Hey, if that'll make me useful, I'm in."

You can't help but keep smiling at him, feeling so incredibly giddy. Is this perhaps what Maria was talking about before? You probably have the exact same look she was describing earlier.

Almost as if you were in some cheesy romantic movie, the cheerful music drastically changed to a much slower tune, noticing a bunch of couples deciding to start dancing together. Joel seems to notice what's going on too, but doesn't dare to acknowledge it, silently watching a couple that walk past the two of you.

Hesitant at first, you eventually decided to test your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? "Would you like to dance?"

The question definitely took him by surprise, quickly turning back to look at you. "What?"

You had no problem repeating yourself, letting out a soft giggle. "I asked if you wanted to dance with me, Joel."

"I don't really–"

"You said you're stepping out of your comfort zone," you remembered, which makes him grin. His usual playful grin that makes you feel like a teenage girl developing her first crush all over again.

"That's really outside of my comfort zone."

Trying to encourage him, you reach out to grab his hand as you start walking towards the other people dancing. To your luck, he doesn't hesitate one bit as he starts walking with you. "I promise it's not as difficult as you probably think it is."

The two of you find a spot in between all the couples dancing and you turn around to look at him. Despite feeling incredibly nervous at this moment, you knew he probably feels even worse right now, agreeing to something you suggested that he probably hasn't done in years. It's only fair that you take the lead for now.

You could feel his body tensing slightly when you place both of his hands on your waist before placing yours around his shoulders. With a reassuring smile, you start softly swaying from side to side, hoping he'd follow your lead.

"See?" you say cheerfully when he immediately starts imitating what you're doing. "It's not difficult."

He nods swiftly, looking down at his feet. "I guess," he mutters, his extreme concentration to every single one of his movements making you laugh. "I don't want to step on your shoes," he says, letting out a nervous chuckle right after.

"You're not gonna step on my shoes," you reassured him, and that's when he finally looks back up into your eyes. "You're a natural."

He shrugs, looking slightly more comfortable now. "Or maybe I just have a really good teacher."

The comment makes you playfully roll your eyes. "And to think Dina had the audacity to say you have no game."

Joel laughs at that, shaking his head at the memory of that little incident that took place a few minutes ago. Rather than replying right away, you feel his hands move to the small of your back, gently pulling you closer to him. "So you disagree with her?"

"Maybe. I'm still not sure."

You can see something shifting in his demeanor, looking a lot more confident than ever before. He pulls you close until you're resting your chin on his shoulder, heartbeat rising when you feel his beard tickling your neck and his big, strong hands still firmly placed on your back.

"How about now?" you hear him whisper. In that moment, your knees could've easily given in and make you lose balance. He's really getting comfortable now.

You were unable to speak at first, simply hugging him tighter. A few people around you couldn't help but stare, probably intrigued by you and Joel's evident display of affection. Of course the possibility of a new couple forming in town would peak their interest, especially one so...unpredictable.

Joel's not necessarily a very approachable person, and he definitely looks quite intimidating. You, on the other hand, are known as the sweet kindergarten teacher all the little kids talk about with so much affection. It really is an unexpected pair.

Snapping out of it, you remember what Joel just asked you. "Now...I might disagree with her."

He chuckles against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Good," he says, right before moving back enough to lock eyes with you again.

You both dance together in silence, simply looking back into each other's eyes as you enjoy the proximity and undeniable chemisty. Like you have said in the past, it feels like fate. Somehow, in this doomed world, you were meant to find each other.

"You look so beautiful," he says out of nowhere, smiling down at you. "Early when I got here...I wanted to say you look beautiful."

"Great's also a nice compliment." He's still looking back at your first interactions tonight, feeling critical about his approach then. You didn't want him to feel like he did something wrong, or that he could've done things differently.

Joel nodded. "But that's not what I wanted to say," he insisted. "I'm sorry I was weird earlier. This whole thing is...it's just been a very long time since I've felt this way."

"And how exactly do you feel?"

He notices your little smirk, which inevitably makes him smile back at you, immediately noticing your playful tone. A few seconds later the smile on his face disappears, replaced by a serious expression. "Like I've finally found someone that makes me want to give love a second chance," he says, sounding incredibly sincere.

At first, you don't really know what to say, your heart instantly melting at his words. All you can do is smile, trying not to get visibly emotional, because this is truly fate. This all feels like it was meant to be. As crazy as it might sound, you can easily see yourself falling in love with Joel, spending as much time as this godforsaken world grants you next to him.

Last thing you wanted was to leave him hanging after what he said, quickly snapping out of your thoughts once again. "I think I'd like to give this a chance too."

You could see Joel's entire face light up after what you just said, like he has been waiting for you to say something along those lines. He presses you closer to him, right before leaning down for a kiss.

Sharing a kiss with Joel is exactly what you expected and just so much more at the same time. It almost feels like fireworks are exploding all around you, no one but the two of you existing at that moment. It's so sweet and gentle, yet so incredibly passionate. Is it possible to feel this much just with a kiss? Perhaps this is exactly what it feels like to connect with your soulmate.

As soon as you pull away, you could feel a lot more people staring at the two of you, but all you could really focus on is Joel. There's absolutely nothing else that matters more right now.

"I bet Dina doesn't think you've got no game now," you joke.

Joel quickly scans the room searching for the girl, smiling softly at something before looking down at you again. "I believe she's distracted right now."

Intrigued, you turn around to look in the direction Joel was just seconds ago, noticing Dina and Ellie dancing together. "I didn't know they were a thing."

"Me neither," Joel replied. "I mean, I knew there was something going on with Ellie...poor kid's awful at hiding her feelings. I wasn't sure if Dina liked her back, though."

"Well, it looks to me like she really likes her back."

Joel shrugs playfully. "Us Miller's, you know? We're kinda irresistible."

"Please, don't you ever say anything like that again," you laugh, immediately shaking your head. "It gave me actual chills."

He laughs back. "Sorry," he whispers, leaning in for a quick kiss as he stops dancing. "But you gotta admit it's true."

"Stop it," you warn him playfully.

"Fine." He stops himself for a few seconds, uncertain, before speaking his mind. "Uh, so I was thinking...it's movie night at the old theater tomorrow, so maybe we could go together."

"You'll get me popcorn?"

Joel looks offended by your question. "Of course."

"It's a date then," you reply. This time it's your turn to lean in for a kiss. It's like you could spend your entire life kissing this man. You're addicted already.

He nods in agreement, taking your hand to guide you out of the dance floor. You really didn't care where he was intending to go, you were just happy to get the chance to spend the rest of the party by his side.

[vingtetunmars]

Baby, Come To Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: After a second show and another failed attempt to set Eddie up with a girl, Steve pushes too far. Eddie finally snaps and told him the truth. Steve understood, in his own messy way. Because he had been feeling something too—something that made him confused, scared, and alive in a way he didn’t have words for.

Part 1 / Part 2

Tags: fluff, it's tooth rotting fluff now, humor, teasing, slow burn, friends to lovers, coming out, getting together, developing relationship, secret relationship, Steve bisexual awakening, and it's Eddie Munson, a bit of internalized homophobia, Steve is severely touch starved, Steve is also stubborn, Eddie is a sweetheart, and a romantic, seriously in this part Eddie's shooting his shot.

A/N: I put all the romcom flick tropes in this lmao. And yaay Steve finally discoveres himself. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 8.2k

masterlist

The second show was even louder than the first.

Eddie had practically set the stage on fire—wild solos, hair flying, voice ragged from shouting lyrics over the chaos. Steve had found himself closer to the front this time, no longer hanging by the wall like he did the first time. And maybe he was a little too fixated on how Eddie looked up there: alive, grinning, sweat sticking curls to his forehead.

Steve barely noticed the time slip past. By the time the amps buzzed quiet and Eddie gave the crowd a lazy, two-finger salute, the room was already buzzing with praise, back slaps, and the scraping of bar stools.

They slipped out through the side door, the cold night air cutting through the haze of heat and beer-soaked reverb.

“Seriously,” Steve said as they walked toward the parking lot, “that solo? In the second song? That was insane.”

Eddie laughed, kicking a crushed cigarette box out of the way. “Yeah? You like that one? Might’ve written it while I was very high.”

“I’m not even mad. I think you broke the sound barrier.”

Steve grinned as they turned a corner, not watching his step—and nearly collided with a biker in a leather vest stepping out of the alley.

Before Steve could react, a hand shot out.

Eddie’s.

He curled his fingers lightly around Steve’s wrist and tugged him back a step—firm but easy, like muscle memory. His other hand settled instinctively on Steve’s waist, fingers splaying wide. Protective.

“Hey—watch it,” Eddie muttered to the guy with a narrowed glance.

The biker grunted and moved on.

Steve blinked, heart thudding—not from fear, but from the fact that Eddie hadn’t even hesitated.

Eddie dropped his arm slowly, hand brushing against Steve’s jacket a second longer than necessary. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, trying to breathe normally.

Eddie didn’t say anything. Just walked beside him again like it was nothing.

But something about the way he had reached for Steve—like it was instinct, like he’d done it a hundred times before—was messing with Steve’s head more than he wanted to admit.

So maybe that was why, when they neared the lot, Steve locked eyes with a girl across the pavement—tall, black jeans, safety pin earrings, laughing with a drink in hand—and latched onto her like a lifeline.

“Hey,” he said, nudging Eddie. “Come on.”

Eddie squinted. “Come on what?”

Steve didn’t wait. He grabbed Eddie by the wrist—not rough, but firm—and pulled.

Across the lot. Straight toward the girl.

Eddie sputtered. “Steve—”

“She was watching you all night,” Steve said over his shoulder. “She’s cute. You’ve gotta talk to her.”

“I don’t think—”

But they were already there.

“Hey,” Steve called as they neared. The girl looked up, surprised. “My friend here was just saying how sick your earrings were.”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

The girl raised her brows. “Oh? Thanks.”

Steve nudged Eddie forward slightly.

Eddie, now standing awkwardly a foot away from her, gave a half-smile. “Uh. Yeah. Safety pins. Very punk.”

The girl smiled. “You were great tonight. On guitar.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, stiff as a board. “Fun crowd.”

There was a pause. Steve stood beside him, beaming like he’d just nailed a touchdown pass.

And Eddie… was quiet.

Eventually, the girl nodded. “Well—nice meeting you. See you around.”

She walked off with a polite wave.

Steve turned back, triumphant. “See? She totally liked you.”

But Eddie wasn’t smiling.

He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Steve.”

“What?”

Eddie didn’t answer at first. He just started walking again—shoulders a little lower than before.

Steve followed, frowning. “I’m just trying to help, man.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Eddie said, quiet but pointed.

Steve frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie looked at him then—really looked. His eyes weren’t harsh, but they weren’t soft either.

“I’m not interested,” he said.

Steve’s throat felt tight. “You don’t even know her.”

“I don’t want to.”

The words lingered in the air between them, heavier than either of them expected.

And for once, Steve didn’t have a comeback.

He just stood there, his hands stuffed into the pockets of Eddie’s borrowed jacket, heart thudding too loud for how quiet everything had gotten.

Eddie finally looked away. “Let’s just go.”

And Steve followed, silent.

The ache in his chest not so easy to ignore anymore.

The drive back to the trailer was quiet.

Uncomfortably quiet.

No music, no dumb jokes, no humming from Eddie like usual. Just the sound of the van’s engine and the faint buzz of Steve chewing the inside of his cheek, too aware of every second that passed in silence.

They’d planned this sleepover yesterday. Joked about watching terrible horror movies and stealing the last of Wayne’s root beer. It was supposed to be easy.

He glanced at Eddie a few times. Wanted to say something. Anything.

But Eddie’s face was carved in stone—jaw clenched, eyes locked on the road, one hand tight on the wheel like he needed it to keep himself grounded.

When they finally pulled into the trailer park, the silence came with them.

Eddie killed the engine and stepped out before Steve could even reach for the door handle.

By the time Steve caught up, Eddie had already shoved open the front door, heading straight for the kitchen like he needed distance between them. The place was dim, warm, lived-in. A safe space—that suddenly didn’t feel so safe.

Steve closed the door behind him quietly. “Eds…”

Eddie didn’t turn around. He was rummaging in a cabinet, not really grabbing anything, just making noise.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, voice low.

Eddie paused.

“It’s fine,” he replied. Too fast. Too flat.

“It’s not,” Steve said, taking a step closer. “I—I wasn’t trying to upset you. I just thought…”

“That I needed help?” Eddie turned, arms crossed now, leaning against the counter. “That I was too pathetic or sad or lonely to find someone on my own, so you’d do it for me?”

Steve’s stomach twisted. “No. That’s not— I just wanted to be a good friend.”

“Well, you’re not helping.”

The words hit harder than either of them expected.

Steve blinked, taking a step back. “Jesus, Eddie.”

Eddie raked a hand through his hair. He looked angry, but not the kind that wanted to fight. The kind that was trying not to cry.

“I know what this is, okay?” he snapped. “I know what it looks like. You bring me girls like I’m a charity case, like I’m broken, like you’re trying to fix something.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it.

Eddie’s voice dropped lower. Tighter.

“Well guess what, Harrington? You can’t fix this. Because I’m not interested in them. I’m not ever going to be. That’s not who I am.”

The room went still.

Steve swallowed. “...What are you saying?”

Eddie laughed once—sharp and bitter. “You’re not that dense, man.”

And then, with his back against the kitchen counter like he needed it to hold him up, Eddie said it:

“I’m gay.”

The silence was deafening.

Eddie didn’t look at him.

He stared at the floor, jaw clenched so hard it ached, fists pressed to the edge of the counter.

“Go ahead,” he muttered. “Leave if you want. Beat me up. Whatever. Just—just don’t go spreading it around, okay? I can deal with everything else, just don’t—don’t ruin me.”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat.

And all he could do for a second was stare.

Not in horror.

Not in anger.

But in the kind of stunned silence that comes from something finally clicking—a puzzle piece he hadn’t even known was missing sliding into place.

Eddie still wouldn’t look at him.

Still had his arms crossed, jaw clenched like he was bracing for impact. But now his breathing was shallow, uneven, like saying it out loud had knocked something loose inside him.

Steve took a step forward.

Eddie immediately flinched back, shoulders tensing. “Don’t.”

Steve froze. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“You don’t get it,” Eddie muttered, eyes darting to the floor. “You can’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to live every day thinking someone might clock you for looking too long. For sounding the wrong way. For being—”

“I do,” Steve said, voice firm.

Eddie scoffed. “Oh, come on—”

“I’m not joking,” Steve cut in, stepping forward again—slower this time, careful. “I’m not messing with you, Eddie. I mean it. I—”

He stopped. Took a breath. His voice dropped into something soft. Raw.

“I’ve been confused for weeks.”

Eddie blinked.

“I mean, I like girls. I’ve always liked girls. And I thought that was it. But then you came along—crashing into my life like some kind of metalhead hurricane—and you’re loud and annoying and touchy and... gentle, in a way I didn’t expect.”

Steve laughed under his breath, shaky. “And I didn’t get it at first. Why I was looking forward to get high with you. Why I started waking up thinking about you. Why I didn’t want to go home anymore when I could just be with you instead.”

He looked up at Eddie now, searching his face.

“I don’t know what this means. I don’t have the right words. I just know that I—” He hesitated. Then: “I understand how you feel.”

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes glassy. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” Steve whispered. “I’m not.”

Eddie didn’t move.

Not at first.

But then his shoulders slumped, like something in him finally gave up the fight. He let his arms fall, like he was exhausted from holding everything in.

“You wrecked me, Munson,” Steve said, smiling sadly. “And the worst part is... I think I kinda let you.”

A silence settled, thick with something neither of them could name yet.

Then—quietly, hesitantly—Eddie said, “Me too.”

Steve stepped closer again, and this time, Eddie didn’t pull away.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t hide.

And somewhere in that space between confusion and truth, they stood—finally facing the storm together.

They stood there for a while, both of them unsure of what to do now that all the walls were down.

No more pretending. No more dodging.

Just this—the space between them, electric and still, like a live wire humming in silence.

Eventually, they sank onto the old couch in Eddie’s living room, side by side but not touching. Not yet. Both of them staring straight ahead like the room might start spinning otherwise.

Steve rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a long breath. “This is… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said quietly. “It is.”

Another beat of silence.

Then, from somewhere cautious but steady, Eddie added, “Bisexual.”

Steve turned to him slowly. “What?”

Eddie looked over, softer now. “That’s the word. For liking both. Guys and girls.”

Steve blinked. “Oh.”

“You, uh…” Eddie shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing a little. “You might be. If what you said is real.”

“It is,” Steve said quickly. “I didn’t—I’m not messing with you.”

“I know,” Eddie replied, smiling faintly. “Didn’t say you were.”

Steve let that settle, brows furrowed. “Bisexual,” he repeated, almost testing the word in his mouth. “That’s… that’s a thing?”

“It’s a real thing, Harrington,” Eddie said, grinning now. “Contrary to the entire state of Indiana’s belief.”

Steve laughed softly, more from relief than humor. “Okay. Yeah. I guess that… kind of fits.”

Eddie leaned back, tossing his arm over the back of the couch. “I can’t believe I’m Steve Fucking Harrington’s bisexual awakening.”

Steve flushed. “Shut up.”

Eddie snorted. “No, seriously. You were the guy in high school. The king. The whole hair and charm and girls falling over you thing. And now? Boom. One metalhead and suddenly you're spiraling.”

Steve groaned into his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s kinda hot, actually.”

“Eddie—”

“What?” Eddie grinned wider, nudging him gently. “You said I wrecked your world. Let me bask in it a little.”

Steve shook his head, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Eddie said, eyes softening as they finally met Steve’s again, “you’re still here.”

That shut them both up for a second.

And when Steve leaned just a little closer, his shoulder brushing Eddie’s—

He didn’t pull away.

They were back in Eddie’s room, the dim glow of a lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air smelled faintly of laundry detergent, weed, and something warm and uniquely Eddie—comforting, lived-in.

Steve tugged off his jeans and flopped down onto the mattress in just a borrowed t-shirt and boxers, already claiming one side like he’d done it a dozen times before.

Eddie watched him with a lazy kind of interest as he shuffled through a drawer for something clean to sleep in.

“You know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, “I’m still kind of reeling.”

Steve blinked at him from the bed. “From what?”

“From the part where Steve Harrington basically told me I’m irresistible,” Eddie said, slipping off his shirt with an exaggerated flourish. “Truly a landmark moment for the people.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a pink flush on his cheeks that hadn’t quite faded since their earlier conversation. “I didn’t say irresistible.”

“You implied it,” Eddie countered, tugging on a tank top and sauntering toward the bed like a cat with a secret.

“You’re impossible.”

“Mm. You said that often too. Starting to think it’s your version of saying you’re into me.”

Steve turned onto his side, facing Eddie, who crawled into the bed beside him with a grin far too smug for someone who’d had a meltdown an hour ago.

“This is you being humble?” Steve asked.

Eddie shrugged, settling into the blanket beside him. “Nah. This is me being confident, because you’re still here.”

Steve met his eyes, and something warm passed between them—unspoken, but understood.

Then Eddie’s voice dropped just slightly. “So… now that we’ve both bared our souls and all that very romantic crap… what are the rules?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Rules?”

“Yeah. Like… can I flirt with you now? Without it being, you know, fake?”

Steve’s throat went dry.

Eddie inched closer, just a little, propping his head on his hand. “Because full disclosure—I’ve been dying to do it for real.”

Steve bit his lip to hide the smile threatening to spread. “You’re flirting with me right now.”

“Only mildly,” Eddie said, winking. “I’m holding back out of respect for your fragile post-awakening state.”

Steve let out a soft laugh, ducking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you like it.”

A beat.

Steve looked up again, all soft eyes and flushed cheeks. “...Maybe I do.”

That made Eddie’s smirk falter—just for a second—into something more genuine. Something gentler.

“Cool,” he said quietly. “That’s… cool.”

They settled in, the distance between them almost nonexistent now. Shoulders touching. Breaths syncing.

And maybe, in the quiet that followed, there wasn’t a need for any more flirting.

Because this—the weightless way they rested beside each other, the freedom in their words, the quiet grin on Eddie’s face—said more than teasing ever could.

Steve had never been on this side of it before.

The side where he wasn’t chasing, performing, impressing.

He was being courted.

By Eddie freaking Munson.

And it was working.

It started with the pet names. Eddie had always thrown them around casually—big boy, pretty boy, hotshot—sometimes just to watch Steve roll his eyes. But lately, they’d shifted.

Softer.

Sweeter.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie would say when Steve showed up at his locker after class, like it was nothing. Like it had always been that way.

Or a quiet, “Y’alright, sweetheart?” if Steve looked tired, Eddie’s hand brushing the back of his neck with casual concern.

And maybe the first few times, Steve flushed so hard he had to pretend he was cold.

But he didn’t hate it.

Not even a little.

Eddie’s touches changed too. They used to be thoughtless, unconscious—knuckles against Steve’s arm, a knee bump under the table. Because Eddie genuinely couldn't keep his hands to himself in general. But now? Now they were intentional. A hand at the small of his back when they walked through crowds. Ring brushing over Steve's skin just to say I’m here.

Steve let it happen.

More than that—he found himself waiting for it.

Then came the mixtape.

Eddie had handed it over without fanfare. Just leaned across the van one day, dropped it in Steve’s lap, and said, “Don’t play it around anyone else. It’s got my soft shit on it.”

The label was scrawled in Eddie’s sharpie handwriting: For Stevie—with a crudely drawn heart that Eddie tried to scratch out, but not really.

Steve didn’t say anything at the time.

But he played it that night.

And the next.

And the next.

It was in his Walkman as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was in his car stereo when he drove to school, to the store, to Eddie’s. Sometimes he didn’t even realize he was humming the songs under his breath until someone asked what he was singing.

And every time it played, something twisted sweetly in his chest.

It was weird.

Steve used to be the one who did the mixtapes. The one who showed up with flowers and smirks and cologne. The one who leaned in first, always.

Now Eddie was beating him at his own game.

And God help him, Steve didn’t want him to stop.

The Hawkins spring fair wasn’t anything special.

But the one out of town—just past the county line in the next town over? That one had a Ferris wheel, good funnel cake, and a reputation for not sucking. Eddie had been once, years ago, for a deal gone sideways in the parking lot. He never made it inside.

This year, he wanted to change that.

“Let’s go,” he’d said to Steve a week earlier, sprawled out across the hood of his van like a lazy cat. “The fair. It’s cheesy, and overpriced, and full of screaming kids, but I don’t know. I think you’d like it.”

Steve blinked up from where he sat on the curb, tossing a pebble between his hands. “You’re inviting me to a fair?”

“I’m inviting you to funnel cake and rigged games and the joy of watching me puke after three spins on the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

Steve had laughed. “Alright. You’re on.”

The day came sunny and unseasonably warm. Steve had just finished shaving when he heard the familiar growl of Eddie’s van outside.

He grabbed his jacket and jogged down the driveway—but stopped short when he pulled open the passenger door.

A small bouquet of daffodils sat on the seat.

Bright yellow. A little uneven. Wrapped in what looked like newspaper comics.

Steve blinked. “What’s this?”

Eddie, in the driver’s seat, leaned back with a shrug and absolutely zero eye contact. “Flowers.”

“No shit, why?”

“Because,” Eddie said, still trying to sound casual and failing. “I thought it’d be nice to give my boy flowers.”

Steve blinked again. “Your boy?”

Eddie winced. “Too much?”

Steve didn’t answer right away. He picked up the bouquet carefully, like it might fall apart in his hands. The stems were damp, and the wrapping was already curling a little, but the flowers were bright. Happy.

He looked over at Eddie, who was finally glancing at him, all nerves under a leather jacket.

“I didn’t know I was your boy,” Steve said, voice softer now.

“Well,” Eddie said, drumming his fingers on the wheel, “you don’t exactly make it easy when you melt every time I call you baby, so I’m just kind of… shooting my shot.”

Steve smiled, looking down at the flowers again.

Then—without thinking—he leaned across and kissed Eddie on the cheek.

It was quick.

Barely there.

But it left Eddie blinking like someone had just short-circuited his brain.

Steve sat back, placing the daffodils gently in his lap. “You got any more romantic tricks up your sleeve, Munson?”

But Eddie didn’t answer.

Didn’t move.

His forehead was pressed against the steering wheel now, both hands gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Steve blinked. “Eddie?”

“You can’t just—” Eddie’s voice was muffled against the leather. “You can’t just do that!”

“What, kiss you?”

“Yes!” Eddie lifted his head just enough to turn wide eyes toward Steve—his face bright red, ears flushed, and that wild, completely betrayed expression like Steve had committed an actual crime. “Warn a guy or something, Jesus Christ.”

Steve bit back a laugh. “You’ve been calling me baby for a week and I’m the problem?”

Eddie let out something between a groan and a giggle, then buried his face in his hands this time. “Unbelievable. Steve Harrington is gonna be the death of me.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, smug now. “Didn’t know I had that kind of power.”

“You’re obnoxious,” Eddie mumbled from between his fingers.

Steve just chuckled and looked out the windshield, twirling one of the daffodils absently.

Eddie peeked between his hands. Just a little.

Grinned. Hid again.

Peeked again.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t, and it’s the worst,” Eddie groaned dramatically. “God, you kissed me. You kissed me. I’m not gonna recover from that.”

Steve smiled softly, letting the moment settle. “Get it together, Munson. We’ve got a fair to get to.”

Eddie let out one last breath, thumped his head gently on the wheel again, then sat up with a grin that wouldn’t quit. “Okay. But for the record—if you ever do that again without warning, I will melt into goo.”

Steve reached over and patted his thigh. “Good. You deserve it.”

And with that, Eddie pulled out of the driveway, still blushing, still sneaking glances at the boy next to him like he couldn’t quite believe it.

The sun was bright when they pulled into the makeshift lot outside the town's fairgrounds, the warm evening light catching on strings of colored bulbs being flipped on one by one. The air smelled like fried sugar, popcorn, and something vaguely agricultural.

Eddie slammed the van door shut behind him and stretched his arms over his head. “Alright, Harrington,” he said with a crooked grin. “Prepare to be wooed.”

Steve raised a brow. “Wooed?”

“I’m gonna win you everything, sweetheart,” Eddie declared, already motioning toward the rows of game booths ahead. “Stuffed animals. Goldfish. That weird inflatable alien. Name it.”

Steve just laughed. “You do remember these games are rigged, right?”

“I laugh in the face of capitalism and physics,” Eddie said, puffing his chest out. “Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie had successfully knocked over zero milk bottles, missed five consecutive rings at the bottle toss, and got absolutely humiliated at the basketball hoop game by a child in overalls.

He looked at Steve with wide, betrayed eyes. “Okay, the universe is personally targeting me.”

Steve was already biting back laughter. “You really thought you were gonna nail that last one?”

“I had a good feeling!”

“You hit the side of the tent.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “Rude.”

Steve grinned, stepping up to the next booth—the one with the baseball toss. He handed the carnie a few tickets, rolled up his sleeves, and adjusted his grip on the ball.

Three throws. Three direct hits. All targets down.

He turned to Eddie with a smug little tilt of his head. “Watch and learn, baby.”

Eddie jokingly frowned. “Hey, that's my line, call me something else.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said under his breath, grinning. “You know it.”

Steve chose a small stuffed tiger and tossed it at Eddie’s chest. “Here. Since you suck at winning things.”

Eddie caught it, beaming like a kid. “I’m gonna name him Disaster, after my performance today.”

They kept walking, their hands brushing now and then, the line between friendly and romantic long since erased. Steve let Eddie point out a haunted house ride they had to do, even though it looked like it had last been inspected during the Carter administration.

They shared funnel cake. Took blurry photos in a too-small booth.

And every so often, Eddie would look over—at Steve’s flushed face in the lights, his laugh, the way his hair caught the breeze—and think, this is what it feels like.

To love someone. To let yourself be loved back.

The drive back to Hawkins was quieter than the ride out. The kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward—just content. Full. Like the night had left both of them with enough warmth that they didn’t need to fill the silence with words.

Steve had one leg up on the seat, his hand resting on the daffodils now tucked gently into the crook of his arm, eyes fluttering between half-shut and fully closed. The mixtape Eddie made was playing softly in the background—Cheap Trick fading into Bowie.

The fair had long disappeared in the rearview mirror, but Steve still smelled like kettle corn and summer air.

Eddie tapped the wheel lightly with his fingers, stealing a glance every few seconds.

When they finally rolled into Steve’s driveway, the porch light was on but the house was still and quiet.

Steve sat up slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime,” Eddie said, though his fingers tightened just slightly around the steering wheel.

Steve reached for the door handle—

But stopped when Eddie cleared his throat.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice low. “Can I ask you something?”

Steve turned back to him, curious. “Yeah?”

Eddie stared ahead at the dashboard, jaw flexing like he had to push the words out.

“Was I… good at this?”

Steve blinked. “At what?”

“The date thing.” Eddie’s thumb tapped the wheel twice, nervously. “Not the fair—clearly I peaked at ‘small bouquet of flowers,’ and then it was all downhill from there.” He gave a weak laugh, then looked down. “I mean with you. Did I—was it okay?”

Steve’s expression softened.

“You’re asking if you fucked it up.”

Eddie nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah.”

Steve leaned back against the door, hand resting lightly on the bouquet again.

“No,” he said quietly. “You didn’t fuck it up.”

Eddie glanced over, hesitantly.

Steve smiled. “You did really good, Munson.”

Eddie laughed under his breath, a little too relieved. “Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t just trying to impress you. I actually meant all of it. Like… the dumb games, the flowers, the dumb jokes—”

“Eddie,” Steve cut in, his voice warm and certain now. “You don’t have to try so hard.”

“I know,” Eddie said, smiling nervously. “I just want to.”

Steve reached out and touched his hand where it rested on the gear shift. Gave it a quick, grounding squeeze.

“I know,” Steve said again. “That’s why it’s good.”

They sat there like that for a second—Eddie, wide-eyed and glowing, and Steve, calm and sure, like something was finally settling into place.

“I’ll see you?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded, still smiling like an idiot. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Steve gave his hand one last squeeze before slipping out of the van, bouquet in hand. As he walked up the driveway, he turned back and caught Eddie still watching him from behind the wheel, a ridiculous, love-struck look on his face.

Steve grinned and waved.

Eddie waved back, then immediately dropped his forehead to the steering wheel again, groaning into the vinyl.

“Christ,” he mumbled to himself, grinning so hard it hurt, “I am so pathetic.”

The trailer was quiet except for the occasional soft clunk of cassette cases being shifted around. Eddie was sprawled on the carpet, legs crossed, surrounded by tapes, notepaper, and a near-empty can of grape soda.

The old stereo hissed softly as he rewound a song to just the right timestamp. He was making another mixtape, this time filled only with love songs—real ones, no winks or sarcasm. The kinds of tracks that said everything he couldn’t quite bring himself to say out loud yet.

He scribbled a title on the case:

"Vol. 2 – Music for Stevie"

Behind him, the trailer door creaked open.

Boots scraped the mat.

“Is this for that Harrington boy?” Wayne’s voice came in rough and steady, just behind him.

Eddie jolted, nearly smearing the ink on the label. “Jesus, Wayne—how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear The Cars and Fleetwood Mac back-to-back,” Wayne said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “That’s a love mixtape if I’ve ever heard one.”

Eddie flushed immediately, tugging his hair behind his ear and glancing away. “...Yeah. It’s for Steve.”

Wayne nodded slowly, walking further into the room and lowering himself into his old recliner with a familiar creak. “Didn’t say it wasn’t sweet.”

Eddie looked up at him, brows raised. “You didn’t?”

Wayne smirked. “Not yet. But I will now.”

Eddie snorted and leaned back on his palms. “He’s… he’s kind of the best, Wayne.”

“I gathered.” Wayne gestured toward the stack of tapes like Exhibit A.

They were quiet for a moment. The stereo clicked, a new song humming low in the background. Wayne watched Eddie as he picked a new track and cued it up.

Then Wayne spoke again—softer now.

“You know his folks don’t come around much, right?”

Eddie glanced over. “Yeah. I figured.”

“Saw them at high school years back. The dad—he was always stiff. One of those types that thinks being cold means being respectable.”

Eddie didn’t reply right away. Just sat still, the cassette paused in his hand.

Wayne looked at him. “I’m not trying to scare you, son. I just don’t want you to walk into something thinking he’s got it easy.”

“I don’t,” Eddie said quietly. “I don’t think he has it easy.”

Wayne nodded once. “Alright.”

Eddie hesitated, then added, “I’ve seen it. Not just the parent stuff. He puts up walls, but they’re not very high. I think he wants someone to see over them, y’know?”

Wayne studied him for a moment, something like pride warming his tired eyes. “And you’re volunteering for the job?”

Eddie grinned, shy and fond and a little stupid. “I think I already took it.”

Wayne chuckled. “Alright, Romeo. Just don’t let your heart write checks your head can’t cash.”

“I won’t,” Eddie said, picking up the pen again. “He’s worth the overdraft anyway.”

Wayne shook his head, smiling into his hand.

And in the quiet, while Talking Heads hummed from the stereo and the sun crept across the stained trailer floor, Eddie added another song to the list.

Lover’s Rock was a dumb name, really.

Just big rocks out in the woods with a halfway decent view and enough carved initials to prove generations of teens had come here to make out or smoke up or both.

Eddie had scoffed the second Steve suggested it. “What is this, a goddamn John Hughes movie?”

Steve just grinned and said, “You’ll live.”

So now here they were. The sun had dipped below the trees, casting long shadows across the stone. The pack of cigarettes lay open between them, and the scent of weed hung lazily in the cooling spring air.

Eddie took a hit and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upward. “Still think it’s cliché.”

Steve snatched the joint from him and took a long drag. “Yeah, well. I like it. It’s quiet.”

“Quiet’s overrated.”

Steve nudged him with his knee. “You’re never quiet.”

Eddie grinned, but there was something softer about it tonight. Something settled. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small cassette case, slightly scuffed.

“Speaking of sappy clichés,” he said, holding it out, “I made you something.”

Steve blinked, accepting the mixtape. The label was written in Eddie’s messy scrawl:

"Vol. 2 – Music for Stevie"

Steve snorted. “That’s it?”

“Shut up and look at the track list.”

Steve flipped the case over. His brows arched immediately. “These are… all love songs.”

Eddie leaned back on his elbows, watching the sky. “Yup.”

“No metal?”

“Nope.”

Steve grinned, thumbing through the track names.

“This is, like… aggressively romantic,” he said, mock-impressed.

Eddie groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah. You corrupted me. Happy?”

Steve grinned wider, slipping the tape into his jacket pocket. “Actually… I brought something too.”

Eddie turned his head. “Oh?”

Steve reached into his backpack and pulled out a small box, opening it before Eddie could even get properly nervous.

Inside was a simple necklace—a thin black cord with a red guitar pick attached. Slightly marbled, glossy in the fading light.

Eddie stared.

Steve cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Figured you’d eventually lose all the ones you actually play with. This one’s not for playing. Just, y’know… wearing.”

Eddie took it gently, like it might shatter in his hands. “Steve.”

“It’s stupid, I know—”

“No. It’s—fuck.” Eddie looked down at it, then back at Steve. “You make it so hard for me to not make you mine right here and now.”

Steve’s breath caught, eyes flicking to Eddie’s.

“You say that like I’m not already halfway yours,” he said, voice low.

Eddie stared for a beat too long. Then he laughed, quiet and overwhelmed, slipping the necklace on like it had always belonged there.

Then said, quieter than usual but with none of his usual deflection, “Well… I kinda want to make you fully mine.”

Steve’s breath hitched.

Eddie gave him a nervous smile, like he was trying to laugh off the weight of his own words, but his fingers were twitching where they rested on his knee.

“How’s that sound?”

Steve looked at him for a long beat. His heart was thudding somewhere near his throat, and everything about this felt heavy and light all at once.

And he smiled.

He nodded. “Sounds like something I’ve been wanting too.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

Steve laughed under his breath. “Don’t act so surprised.”

Eddie opened his mouth, probably to make some quip, but didn’t get the chance—because Steve leaned in. Slowly. Carefully. Like he wasn’t totally sure what he was doing, but he knew who he was doing it for.

Their lips met.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft. Intentional.

Steve melted into it, and god—it felt different. Not like kissing girls, not like kissing anyone he kissed before. There was no script here. No memory of how it should go. Just warmth and pressure and the scent of smoke clinging to Eddie’s hair and the rough brush of rings against his jaw when Eddie reached up to cradle his face.

Different, but good.

Really good.

And maybe it was because it was new, or maybe it was because it felt like coming home. Either way, Steve didn’t pull back. Not for a long moment.

When they finally did part, foreheads resting together, Steve let out a shaky laugh. “That was… something.”

Eddie looked dazed. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. That was my first time kissing a guy.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, guilt flashing across his face. “Shit, was that okay? I didn’t even—”

“Eddie,” Steve said, still smiling, “it was great.”

Eddie exhaled a laugh, relief crashing through him like a wave. “Good. ‘Cause I was about to dramatically throw myself off this rock if you said otherwise.”

Steve grinned and leaned into him, head on Eddie’s shoulder, fingers brushing the red pick still hanging around his neck.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel confused.

He just felt wanted.

Their breath was still mingling in the air, hearts racing but shoulders relaxed, the quiet around them suddenly feeling like it was holding the moment instead of pressing in on it.

Steve leaned back first, resting his weight on his palms, a little stunned smile still pulling at his lips. Eddie just stared at him for a second—at the curve of his grin, at the faint flush on his cheeks, at the fact that he was his now.

“So,” Eddie whispered. “Are we really boyfriends now?”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

That was all it took.

They both broke—into laughter, full and loose, the kind that bubbled out of their chests like they’d just gotten away with something big. Steve leaned into Eddie’s side, giggling, while Eddie threw an arm around him and buried his face in his neck.

Then, without warning, Eddie sat up straight and launched to his feet.

Steve blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”

Eddie spread his arms, threw his head back, and yelled into the woods:

“Steve Harrington is my boyfriend!”

Then he flipped both middle fingers to the sky and added,

“Take that, universe!”

Steve burst out laughing, nearly doubling over where he sat.

“You’re such a dork,” he said through his grin.

Eddie dropped back down beside him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed, his laughter just as breathless. “You love it.”

Steve leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder again. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I really do.”

And there, under the stars and the trees, with smoke still hanging faint in the air and their hearts feeling way too big for their chests, they just existed. Two dumb teenagers in the middle of nowhere, high on love and weed and the thrill of finally being.

1985

The parking lot of Starcourt Mall was still chaos, hours after the “fire” had been contained. The air stank of smoke and scorched plastic. Sirens wailed distantly. Flashing lights cast harsh reds and blues across ash-covered concrete.

Steve Harrington sat hunched on the back of an ambulance, a foil blanket draped over his shoulders and another thrown across Robin’s lap beside him. His face was a mess—bruised, scraped, his eye swollen nearly shut. He looked like hell.

Felt like it too.

Robin was mid-sip of some god-awful coffee when the sound hit—screeching tires, rubber burning against the lot pavement.

They both turned.

A familiar van swerved to a crooked stop near the emergency line. Before the engine even finished choking out, the driver’s side door flew open.

“Steve!” came a shout, loud and ragged.

Eddie Munson.

Hair wild. Jacket half-on. Eyes wild as he sprinted across the lot, dodging EMTs and officers like a man possessed.

“Steve!” he called again, voice cracking now. “Jesus Christ, Steve!”

Robin sat up straighter. “Uh—”

Steve blinked, squinting through his good eye. Then—

“Eddie?” he croaked.

By the time Eddie reached him, he barely slowed. Just dropped to his knees in front of Steve like the rest of the world had vanished.

“What the hell, what the hell, baby,” Eddie breathed, hands hovering like he didn’t know where to touch without hurting him. “You were gone. You didn’t call, no one knew—forty-eight hours, Steve. I thought you—I thought—” His voice caught.

Steve opened his mouth, but no words came.

So instead, he leaned forward. Wrapped both arms around Eddie’s neck and held on.

Eddie froze for half a second. Then his arms wound around Steve’s waist, pulling him close, grounding them both.

“Shit,” Eddie whispered against his shoulder. “You’re really here. You’re okay.”

“I’m here,” Steve whispered back, voice shaky. “I’m okay.”

Eddie pulled back just enough to cup Steve’s jaw, thumb brushing carefully under a bruise. “What the hell happened to you, sweetheart?”

Steve laughed once, rough and tired. “You should see the other guy.”

Eddie gave a strangled sound—half a laugh, half a sob—and leaned forward to press a kiss to Steve’s hair. “You absolute idiot. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I didn’t mean to—things just got—”

He stopped himself. Because what could he say?

“Complicated,” he finished lamely.

Eddie frowned, confused and worried. “I heard about the fire on the news. They’re saying the mall’s totaled. You were in there?”

Steve nodded.

“And you didn’t think to call?”

“I didn’t exactly have a phone, Ed.”

Eddie huffed, still visibly rattled. “I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

Robin was just getting accustomed to weird things happening around Steve Harrington. Russian code, secret elevators, flesh-melting monsters—sure. But this?

This was new.

She sat still on the edge of the ambulance bench, a half-sipped cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand, the other clutching the foil blanket tight around her. And all she could do was watch.

Eddie Munson—resident Hawkins High freak, metalhead, Dungeon Master, Scoops Ahoy’s biggest flirt—was currently kneeling in front of Steve like a man possessed. His hands were trembling, voice hoarse with worry, pet names slipping out like second nature.

And Steve… was holding on just as tightly.

Robin blinked.

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, all those thrice-weekly visits to Scoops Ahoy made a hell of a lot more sense. The relentless teasing. The finger guns. The winks. The way Eddie used to call Steve “pretty boy” just a little too sincerely.

They weren’t jokes.

They were confessions.

Eddie finally noticed her watching. His whole body stiffened like he’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar—or worse, caught in something dangerous.

He slowly peeled himself back from Steve, one hand still on the guy’s knee, and turned his head toward her.

Robin blinked, trying to school her expression into something that wasn’t just "holy shit this is real."

Eddie cleared his throat. “I, uh—”

“I’m cool,” she said quickly, lifting her hand in surrender. “I’m so cool. Frosty, even. Like, ice cold.”

Eddie stared at her, still tense. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitated, then glanced at Steve—who was too exhausted to catch the subtext, head leaning against the ambulance—and looked back at Eddie.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Friend of Dorothy’s.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted.

Robin gave a small, nervous smile.

Something in Eddie melted. His shoulders dropped. The guarded look flickered into something softer—more familiar. A kind of relief you only show when someone just proved they’re safe.

“Jesus,” Eddie said, letting out a laugh that was more breath than sound. “Of course you are.”

Robin shrugged. “I mean, look at me.”

They both laughed—quietly, but honestly. For a beat, the three of them just sat there under the harsh red glow of sirens, wrapped in trauma and emergency blankets, slowly finding solid ground again.

Robin nudged Steve lightly with her elbow. “You okay?”

Steve murmured, “Mm-hmm.”

Robin sat back on the bumper again. She watched the two of them, bruised and exhausted, but together—and suddenly something in her felt less alone.

Maybe everything was on fire. Maybe none of them had answers.

But in this strange, small, ash-covered moment?

They were a little less in it alone.

3 Months Later

The store was quiet, lit only by the buzzing fluorescents overhead and the fading orange glow from the sunset outside. Robin clicked the lock on the front door and flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED with a satisfying thunk.

Steve was already halfway through wiping down the counter—faster than usual, actually. Suspiciously efficient for someone who once spent ten whole minutes trying to organize the horror section alphabetically before giving up halfway through the H’s.

Robin narrowed her eyes. “Okay, what’s with you?”

Steve didn’t look up. “Nothing.”

“You’re cleaning like you’re being timed.”

“I’m just being productive.”

“You’ve never been productive a day in your life.”

Steve tossed the rag aside and practically jumped to grab his jacket. “I just—might have plans.”

Robin squinted. “Plans?”

Steve hesitated. “...Plans.”

There was a beat. Then Robin’s eyes widened. “Wait. Is this a date?”

Steve tried—and failed—to suppress the grin crawling up his face. “Maybe.”

“With Eddie?”

“Who else?”

Robin groaned, slumping against the counter like a tragic Victorian widow. “You two make me sick.”

Steve laughed, tugging on his jacket. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Buckley.”

“I’m not jealous,” Robin said, pointing a Sharpie at him like a weapon. “I just think it’s cruel that I have to hear you talk about him all day and then sprint out of here like a golden retriever with a bone the minute we close.”

“I do not sprint.”

“You sprint with purpose.”

Steve grabbed his keys, stuffing them into his pocket. “We’re going Halloween costume shopping.”

Robin’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. I hate this. I hate both of you.”

Steve was already at the door, positively glowing. “He wants to go as a vampire. I told him I’m not wearing fake blood on my face.”

“Tell me you're not doing couple costumes.”

“No promises.”

“I swear to god, if you show up in matching outfits, I’m setting myself on fire.”

Steve blew her a kiss as the bell jingled behind him. “Love you too, Buckley.”

“Tell Eddie I said barf,” she called after him.

But she was smiling when she said it.

Downtown Hawkins wasn’t exactly a metropolis, but the seasonal pop-up costume store had managed to take over the old furniture warehouse, its windows plastered with cartoon bats, neon pumpkins, and a vaguely threatening Dracula poster that claimed YOU NEED A COSTUME NOW in dripping red letters.

Steve spotted Eddie leaning against the hood of his van, a cigarette tucked behind one ear, looking very pleased with himself.

“You’re late,” Eddie said as Steve approached.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I have a job. You’re lucky I showed up at all.”

Eddie gave him a grin. “Touché. Come on, let’s get spooky.”

Inside, it smelled like rubber masks, plastic packaging, and cheap fog machine juice. They strolled past the horror aisle, already tossing ideas back and forth.

“Vampire still stands,” Eddie said, holding up a velvet cape dramatically. “Timeless. Sexy. Easy.”

“You just want an excuse to wear eyeliner again,” Steve muttered.

They wandered further into the store, past cartoonish clown suits and glittery angel wings. Steve pointed at a werewolf costume with a skeptical look. “That’s just a shirt with fur glued to it.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t rock it.”

Then Eddie turned a corner, paused—and his whole face lit up like a kid in a candy store.

“Movie section,” he announced like it was sacred ground. “This is where the good shit lives.”

Steve followed with a shrug. “Like what?”

Eddie started sifting through racks, rattling off ideas as he went. “Indiana Jones, Spock, Kirk, Sexy Spock, Sexy Kirk.”

“You’re impossible.”

But Eddie wasn’t listening anymore—he’d just pulled out a plastic-wrapped Han Solo costume, complete with the iconic vest and faux-leather holster.

“Oh hell yes.”

Then he immediately grabbed the costume hanging next to it and held it up with both hands, already smirking. “I know who you're gonna be.”

Leia.

More specifically: Leia’s slave outfit from Return of the Jedi— bikini, gold trim, zero shame.

Steve looked at it, blinked, then looked at Eddie. “Why am I Leia?”

Eddie waggled his brows. “You know why.”

Steve’s face went red instantly. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie said, holding the hanger up like a sacred offering, “if I die young, it better be because you wore this and my heart exploded from sheer beauty.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Eddie grinned. “I’ll get it engraved on my tombstone.”

Steve grabbed the costume out of his hands and shoved it back on the rack. “You are never allowed to die, just for saying that.”

“Aw, baby, you do care.”

Steve gave him a shove toward the next aisle, but he was laughing the whole time—trying and failing not to picture himself in that ridiculous costume… and worse, trying and failing not to imagine Eddie watching.

They hadn’t picked a costume yet.

But Eddie had definitely picked a favorite.

Eventually, after rifling through an entire rack of questionable superhero knockoffs and rejecting a couples costume labeled "Plug & Socket" with identical looks of horror, they circled back to the Star Wars section.

Eddie held the Han Solo costume against Steve’s chest with a little flourish. “Okay. This we’re keeping. Vest, blaster, hair that screams ‘I shoot first’—this is you.”

Steve raised a brow. “Wait, so I’m Han now?”

“Obviously.”

“What happened to me being Leia?”

Eddie gave him a crooked smile. “I realized I’m not emotionally strong enough to handle you in that outfit.”

“Fair.”

He pulled the Leia costume off the hanger and returned it to the rack, only to come back with a Luke Skywalker robe—tan, oversized, classic.

“I’ll go as Luke,” Eddie said, tossing it over his arm. “Simple. Iconic. Pairs well with smug scoundrels.”

Steve squinted. “But Han and Luke weren’t... you know. Together.”

Eddie grinned, eyes shining with mischief. “Oh Stevie. Sweet, sheltered Stevie. You ever seen the zines people make?”

Steve blinked. “The what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, patting his shoulder. “Just know that if Han wants Luke, Luke absolutely reciprocates. Passionately.”

Steve flushed a little but didn’t argue, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Okay. Han and Luke it is.”

They started heading toward the checkout line, costumes bundled in their arms, when Eddie leaned in close, his voice dropping low.

“And hey,” he added, “If you're nice, I'll let you handle my lightsaber later.”

Steve nearly tripped over a sale bin.

“Eddie!”

“What?!” Eddie said, feigning innocence, eyes wide with mock virtue. “It’s just Star Wars lore.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And you love me.”

Steve shook his head, grinning helplessly as they walked to the register, two dorks with a costume, very much not canon—and very much in love.

Taglist: @steddiethrowaway1 @mangoinacan13 @420-hun @sofadofax @stripey82 @hairdryerducks @lunaraquaenby @wheneverfeasible @chameleonhair @scarlettwolf08 @awkwardgravity1 @th30ra3k3n

[scorpioriesling]

Dress

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Ridoc x reader

Warnings: SMUT but this is also kind of cute?

Summary: This is… absolutely best friends to lovers and I’m living for it. Also… a bit of protective/jealous Ridoc at Sawyer’s expense. Eeeeek oopsie — enjoy anyway!

SR’s Note: I’m riding the Ridoc express today, not sure what’s come over me but… hopefully you’ll like what’s come out of it? xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Our secret moments,

In a crowded room

They have no idea

About me and you

You hum along to one of your favorite songs playing from your phone’s speaker as you flit around your dorm room excitedly. It was finally Friday — the Friday you’d been waiting for. After months of endless training sessions, classes, and non-stop work, the summer had finally begun and tonight was only the first night of it.

You’d been happy with your choice in joining the rider’s quadrant early last year, but you weren’t blind to the reality that you weren’t like many of the others who’d hardened under the harsh demands your quadrant requires. Leafing through the multiple pairs of leather pants, shirts, and jackets — you finally found it. The dress Rhiannon helped you choose a few weeks ago, just for tonight.

Yet, another example of what set you apart from the others.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how you’d looked when you first tried it on. Rhiannon and Violet immediately encouraged the purchase — though, you didn’t take much convincing. A quick reminder from your silver haired friend of who’d also be in attendance for tonight’s festivities had you walking the little black dress up to the register in seconds.

There is an indentation

In the shape of you

Made your mark on me

A golden tattoo

A knock sounds on your door just as you’re slipping the glittering straps over your shoulders, and you skip toward the oak barrier, halting your soft singing.

“Y/N, it’s just me; I know you’re in there, I can hear Taylor Swift!” Violet’s voice echoes through the wood. You yank the door open, and she grins brightly at you, her lips painted an unusual shade of crimson.

“Look at youuuu!” You croon. She rolls her eyes, stepping through the doorway and bypassing you. You close the door softly, and she gives your room a once over before turning to you again.

“Are you…” She trails off, reaching over to press pause on your phone screen.

“Almost ready? Yeah,” You say. You turn your back to her, and she steps forward.

“Looks like I was just in time.” She pulls the zipper on the back of your dress up, the fabric hugging you just right now that it’s secured. You adjust the straps and fabric, turning from side to side in the mirror. You meet Violet’s smirk from behind you in the mirror.

“Oh Gods, what?” You ask, smoothing the dress down to your mid-thighs. She walks forward, inspecting herself as well.

“Nothing, nothing…” She begins, and you roll your eyes. “I just think Ridoc won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you tonight, that’s all.” She giggles, and you can’t help but shudder a breath at her implication.

“Yeah right,” You begin, gazing at yourself again. “We’re just friends.” She scoffs, tossing her ombré hair over her shoulder and gently placing her hands on your bare ones.

“Mhm…” She hums. “We’ll see if that rings true after tonight.” She winks, and you open your mouth to protest, but she claps a hand on your shoulder.

“Now come onnn, we’ll be late and I didn’t put on this ridiculous getup to keep Xaden waiting, either.”

ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

All of this silence and patience

Pining and anticipation

My hands are shaking

from holding back from you

“Girl, you look stunning,” Rhiannon remarks as you and Violet approach her waiting outside the ballroom doors. She’s looking you up and down, from your rhinestone heels to the soft makeup on your face. She exchanges a nod of agreement with Violet, leaning in conspiratorially.

“You know who else will think you look stunning-“ You draw back, laughing at your friend’s implication. She can’t help but grin mischievously at you, tucking a long brown braid behind her ear.

“Yeah yeah, I know we all hope Ridoc thinks I’m soooo hot tonight,” you say sarcastically, causing a light laugh from your friends. You join in, until you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. Turning, you’re met with the familiar blue of Sawyer’s stare.

“Sawyer! Hi,” You say, pulling him in for a friendly embrace. He quickly hugs you, almost pulling you off of him as quickly as he could. You shoot him a confused look, and his flushed cheeks only prompt you further.

“Where is everyone else?” Rhiannon asks. The doors open behind her, a group from first wing entering the ballroom beyond as various sounds erupt and lights flash from inside. Sawyer clears his throat.

“They should be here any minute,” he says. His soft, strawberry curls frame his freckled face so perfectly. He’s cute, in a nice, boy-next-door type of way. Violet moves in closer, tucking away a stray piece of hair from your forehead. Sawyer’s eyes track every move.

“Y/N, you look so pretty tonight, seriously.” You give her a warm smile, and she looks to Sawyer, only glancing behind him for a moment before speaking louder. “Sawyer, don’t you think Y/N looks good tonight?” Sawyer’s cheeks redden, and you can’t help but smile up at him as he flusters for words.

“Y-yeah, you um… you look really good tonight, Y/N.”

“Hey! I coulda told you that much-“ Your heart skips a beat as you hear the familiar sound of his voice — Ridoc’s voice — above the sea of people around you. Your eyes find his in an instant, his words falling short as he takes you in fully. You hear Violet giggle beside you, and realize what she was doing, also noticing how close you and Sawyer were standing to one another.

Great.

“Wow um..” Ridoc chuckles breathlessly, his hand scratching at the nape of his neck as he continues to rake his eyes over every curve of your body. It isn’t until Sawyer coughs lightly that his gaze switches between the two of you, ultimately twisting his expression into something between confusion and maybe anger?

“Sorry did I interrupt something between the two of you?” He asks lowly, his usual upbeat tone completely gone. Your eyes widen, and to Sawyer’s credit, his does too — he literally takes you by the shoulders and gently scoots you back a few inches, quickly shaking his head.

“No! No, we were just-“

“Talking about how good Y/N looks? Yeah, I got that.” Ridoc’s eyes darken slightly, and you look at him incredulously. Bodhi and Xaden approach behind him, clapping him on the shoulders and starting in with their hello’s. Sawyer looks at you apologetically.

“I told Jesinia I’d meet her… so… I’m gonna-“

“Yeah,” You finish for him. He turns, making is way through the crowd as Rhiannon whistles lowly. You turn to face her and Violet, throwing them a furrowed brow look.

“Well… that sure was something.” Rhiannon drawls. Violet winces, and you shake your head.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” you start. “You know Ridoc can be so … I don’t know. Silly, sometimes.” You shrug. Violet looks you up and down once more, smirking as Xaden moves to take his hand in hers.

“I don’t think there was any joking in that tone of his,” she whispers. You scoff, Xaden tossing you a small smile before leading Violet toward the doors to the ballroom.

“We goin’ in or what?”

ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

It’d been maybe an hour or two, but felt like only thirty minutes since you’d entered the end of year celebration party. The neon lights danced overhead, only amplifying the weightless feeling between each of your bones, as though you were made of air. It was safe to say that the first few rounds of shots you’d taken with your friends were beginning to kick in.

“Are you going to dance?” Rhiannon shouts, her hands braced on the long drink table beside you. You lean closer so she can hear you over the loud music and chatter around you.

“What?” You shout back. Rhiannon sighs, and Violet emerges from the crowd, this time without her counterpart.

“Rhi, come dance with me!” She squeals. Rhiannon laughs, thrusting her wobbly arms out in attempt to stabilize your friend. She looks back to you as Violet begins dragging her to the dancefloor, shooting you a wink.

“Violet wait! What about-“

“She can dance with me!” Ridoc’s voice booms over the thud of the bass, his dark hair appearing over the crowd before you. The bodies seem to part like the sea, allowing him to walk right up to you. Rhiannon all but disappears into the mass; surely another one of Violets well-thought out master plans.

“I’ve known you long enough to know dancing isn’t your thing,” you start. You fight to keep your eyes from trailing down to the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, his corded forearms damp from the air in the room, sleeves rolled up a few inches-

All of this silence and patience

Pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this-

“Maybe not,” he chuckles, his warm smile pulling on your heartstrings. One of the many, many things you’ve come to accept that you love about your best friend, more than just being your best friend. “But, it’s yours, and Taylor Swift is playing next, so you bet your ass we’ll be out there for it.” He grins.

You can’t help but smile up at him, reminiscing in the little things he’s remembered about you even after all this time. He’s close enough to you that you can see his pupils are dilated — he’s definitely feeling the alcohol as well. You reach out, lightly pushing his shoulder with your fingertips.

“I dunno,” you tease. “Can you keep up?” He steps another inch closer, nearly pulling you flush against him. The song that’s playing ends, and he laces his fingers through yours that haven’t yet left his shirt. Your breath catches as he leans in so close, you share a breath.

“Hmm… let’s see if I can, pretty girl.” Your eyes widen, cheeks immediately heating at his words. He only casually chuckes in his humorous, familiar way, tugging on your hand to follow him as he parts through the crowd of people. As you finally set foot on the dance floor, you look around to see much of it cleared, Rhiannon and Violet flanking the sides to watch not-so-discreetly. The overhead lights are warm on your skin; but it’s the sudden feeling of Ridoc’s fingertips trailing along your neck that send chills down your spine.

“Maybe, you can follow my lead this time?” He asks quietly. You can only nod, your breath caught in a lump in your throat. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, his hand continuing its path down your spine and finding purchase just above the curve of your butt.

As the music begins, he presses you close, and you almost close your eyes to reel in the moment. This is what you’ve only ever dreamed of; moments like this, with Ridoc. Not being silly, or friendly. Moments where you dabble in being more. Where you finally show more of what you feel for him.

You meet his gaze and giggle, your fogged head tingling with desire as you look into his intense brown eyes. He flashes his perfect teeth at you, his other hand moving to place on your opposing hip. You sway with him, letting him lead this time as your hands rest lightly on his shoulders.

Say my name and everything just stops

“Y/N, there’s something I’ve been wanting to, maybe ask you about.” Ridoc mutters. You chew on your lip — is this the moment? Or is everything going to go up in flames? You never know with him, it could be anything coming out of his mouth next.

“Mhm,” You prod. It strikes you as odd that his demeanor is more nervous and serious than his usual aloof, happy go lucky attitude you’re used to.

I don’t want you like a best friend

“I don’t know… I don’t think we should… ugh I don’t know what I’m saying.” He stutters, looking at the floor. Your hand moves to lightly touch his cheek, and his gaze immediately finds yours again. You run your thumb over the soft skin there, and he smiles faintly.

“Please, Ridoc just tell me — I wanna know,” you say. He sighs heavily, his hand moving to cover yours and take your fingers in between his.

“I don’t just want to be your best friend, Y/N,” he whispers. You feel like your heart stops, your world is tipping, you’re walking on sunshine —

“You mean… like…” You trail off. His other hand slides from your hip slowly up your waist, moving along every curve and over the side of your breast before his fingers take one of your flimsy, glittery shoulder straps in between them. He swallows hard, leaning in so his lips graze your ear.

“I mean, like I want you. Just for me. Only, me.”

Now it’s your turn to gulp. Sexy, hard, deep-voice Ridoc is not exactly what you had expected tonight. A dream come true? Absolutely. Expectation? Never.

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

You take your lip between your teeth again, and his fingers tilt your chin to look up at him once more.

“Keep that up and we’ll have to leave the party early,” he chides. You giggle, pulling him close with your arms draped around his neck. “You’ve already teased me enough tonight with this dress…”

“And what if I told you I only bought it for you to take off?” You peer up at him innocently. He groans, the closeness of your bodies causing you to feel every twitch of his hardening cock through his pants.

“That’s it then; we’ll be going. Now.”

ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

The alcohol is in full swing through your system by now; one minute you were at the party, the next minute, you’re in Ridoc’s dorm room. You both giggle quitely as he leads you to his bed — as if you’d never been in here before.

“Shhhhhh,” Ridoc sits on the edge, pulling you on his lap as you press a finger to his lips. “We have to shh or Sawyer might hear us.” Right; drunk girl logic = his roommate being in their dorm while a party is going on.

Ridoc softly takes your hand, turning it over to place a kiss on the back of it. You grin, and he looks up at you. Gods, he’s so handsome.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hear you say anyone’s name but mine while you’re in my bed,” he groans, and you shift your hips over his member for added friction.

“Mhm,” you oblige, kissing him on the cheek. His hands thread through your hair, pulling you close as his lips finally meet yours. His familiar, intoxicating scent of vanilla and oak mixes deliciously with the taste of tequila on his mouth, and you can’t get enough.

Once he’s had enough of you squirming around atop him, he flips you over, pinning you to the bed as his fingers work under the straps of your dress.

“Is this okay to-“

“Please, Ridoc,” you beg. He sighs.

“I just want to make sure-“

“And I love you for it, but I’ve been waiting so long for this, please,” you whine. Ridoc’s eyes soften, and he smiles down at you before silently unzipping the zipper and sliding the fabric down your body. His breath catches as his eyes drink in your naked form before him.

“Y/N… Gods you’re fucking extraordinary,” he breathes, undoing his own pants and kicking them off with his shoes. His shirt is last to go, and you shamelessly gaze upon every muscle he’s packed on since last year.

Leaning down once more, he places a passionate kiss to your lips, his hand dancing along your hip bone as he makes his way toward your heat. When he reaches the apex, you softly moan, his fingers working you in slow circles.

“Mmm… Ridoc, yes….” you breathe. He lustfully gazes down at you, his fingers dipping inside of your core. You gasp, the small stretch deliciously pleasure filled.

“Good girl,” he growls lowly. “So pretty taking my fingers, hmm,” he speeds up, his hips slanting against the mattress next to you as he presses himself against it. He moves slightly, creating a little friction himself as he continues to finger fuck you.

“Ridoc, Gods yes I’m… ooh..” you squeak. He quickly pulls his fingers out, moving to position himself over you once more before pumping his shaft a few times with his slickened fist.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks lovingly. You nod, pressing another kiss to his perfect mouth. Running the tip through your folds, he finally sinks into you, pushing in slowly.

“Ohhhh FUCK,” you groan. He groans low, his gaze fixed on his length filling you almost to the hilt. He pulls out halfway, sliding back in again, drawing another moan from you.

“Please, please fuck me-“ You begin, and he all but slams into you all the way, a scream of pleasure erupting from you.

“AH, oh fuck-“ You start, his pace quickening. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue dancing with yours as he continues pounding mercilessly into you. Your fingers find the dark waves of his hair, softer than you’d imagined, and you lightly tug, silently begging for release.

“Fuck baby… I won’t last long,” he admits, and you groan once more at the pet name.

“I’m close Ridoc, fuck you’re so big-“ you pant, and his hands grip your hips as he fucks you with such force that you feel your own wetness trailing down your thighs.

“Ah…. oh Gods I’m gonna come,” you gasp, allowing the tightness inside you loose. He slams in three more times before a strained groan emits from his throat, the feeling of his warmth spreading through your core, mixing the releases from both of you inside. His pace slows as he rides out the last of his high, hands moving to grasp your knees wrapped around his waist.

After a few moments of breath catching, he unsheathes himself from you, moving to grab a clean sock from his drawer and wipe the excess from your legs. You can’t help but laugh, most of the tipsy fog worn off and replaced with tired bliss.

“Wowwww,” you drawl. “Really? A sock? Gosh I feel like such a princess.” Ridoc chuckles, wiping himself off before sliding in next to you on the bed.

“Hey! I didn’t plan for this tonight, this is all I’ve got in here,” he says defensively. “And I’ll have you know, it was a very clean sock, just for you m’lady.” You giggle at his humor, slipping under the covers with him and snuggling close to his chest. His arm wraps around you, his fingers sliding through the strands of your hair affectionately.

“Well then,” you unleash a huge yawn. “I am greatly honored.” Your eyes begin to wind shut, and eventually you drift off under the warmth and continuity of Ridoc’s soft touch.

“And I love you too,” he whispers, your earlier words replaying in his mind. He kisses your forehead, leaning against it before slipping into blissful sleep beside you.

[teastyun]

༘⋆ pierced heart (tits)

(SFW) part 1/3

Abby might be your roommate, but she's for whatever reason so distant and cold towards you... until one day, you decide to pierce your nipples and manage to break a barrier inside of Abby.

pairing: roommate!abby x reader

╰┈➤ part 2 ; masterlist

late in the evening of a hard working day, you and Nora were chatting in the infirmary, when you noticed several cabinets containing her medical instruments left open, so you took a peek… and found several types of needles in sterilised bags, that would usually be used for medical procedures.

when you started searching for a specific needle, Nora stopped mid-sentence, "-y/n!! why the hell are you looking through my cabinets?" the confused tone to her voice made you instantly laugh, so you told her about your idea of piercing your nipples, "remember when I told you I found that vintage piercing studio back in the outbacks?" she continued looking at you with a suspicious look, so you continued "I found this brochure with several different types of piercings, and I bagged a few random essentials just in case, you know?" when she didn't respond, you took that as a cue to continue, "and well, lately this idea of piercing my nipples wouldn't get out of my mind-"

"y/n, are you serious right now?" she interrupted, but started laughing at your crazy idea. at first, she would completely deny it and tell you all the possible consequences of it. although, after a bit of convincing, she slowly started giving up and by the end she would even offer her help, so she knew you were on the safer side when it came to the procedure itself. few days after, you and Nora managed to pierce your nipples with all the equipment you two had gathered and you visited her for your daily check-ups and sanitising in the first two weeks.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

after several months of your piercings adjusting and slowly healing, you decided to stay in your dorm to get back into your neglected hobby, when you finally had a few days off after hard working weeks.

since you and abby had similar positions in the military system, you also had a similar schedule, which resulted her few days off overlapping with yours, without the two of you knowing.

usually, you would always wear compression attire for work,, so today you decided to wear a normal, but still tight and light t-shirt, without your usual sport bra and your favourite comfy trousers. your piercings look beautiful, when only a thin layer of cotton was layering them. today, abby's roaming around y’all’s dorm getting her chores done, although a heavy tension sits between the two of you.

when she sees you on the couch in your cozy clothes, she only takes a quick glance while getting her books from the couch table, but stops mid-track and looks at you with an almost shocked expression on her face, still holding her few books in her hands. you notice her sudden change of action and look up, meeting her grey eyes. for the first time in ages, she finally speaks to you, “are those… pierced?” with a shocked undertone to it.

you look at her just as shocked as she is, but your eyes wander from her eyes down to her popular black cut-off tank and her usual khaki cargos, and back to her cold eyes. after a few silent seconds, you slightly confused respond “what else does it look like…?” abby is agitated by your response, but asks “how the fuck did you manage to get that done?” at first, you just ignored her.

when you got up to put your things back to your side of the room, you say with heavy annoyance in your tone “Nora got them done for me, why would you even care?? it’s not like you ever would,” when she obviously waited for a response.

with your back to her, you put your stuff back into your box under the bunkbed, but you didn’t notice how abby would follow you to your side. “also, it’s none of your business! don’t-“ you started, but Abby’s agitation rose with each sentence you said, she huffed and cut you off, “you know that you could have gotten a very bad infection or even fucking worse, a damn blood infection-“

“Abby, just stop talking!” your voice rose as you stood up to face her, and just now you’ve noticed how she was only mere centimetres away from your face. she was looking at you with a worried expression, but when you two realise how closely you stood, she takes a step back. you had no idea why the only time she would speak privately to you was such a cruel topic, and tears started forming in your eyes. embarrassed, you blink them away and look at everything else but her.

after a few moments, she finally speaks again, "I... What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't do such reckless things," her hand goes through her loosely braided hair, "I didn't mean it like that." you still wouldn't look at her, and she went back to her chore.

"Then tell me, why are you always ignoring me?" you finally ask, when you observed her actions, still leaning on your cold metal bunkbed. your question clearly catches her off guard, but she wouldn't dare to look, nor answer you.

she simply continues grabbing her books from the tv stand. her actions agitate you, so you slowly walk up to where she's standing. Abby hears your steps, but this time she wouldn't back away. instead, she just stays there. she still wouldn't make eye contact with you though.

"Abby, please look at me," you say, but she closed her eyes with an almost pained expression. you softly hooked two fingers on her chin and turned her face to you, forcing her to look into your eyes. In them, you saw anger and frustration, but also... lust? your eyes observe every little detail on her face.

her slightly crooked, but Caucasian nose. her trail of freckles all over her face, nicely accentuating her sharp facial features. her pointy, but plump and rosy lips. your hand follows your eyes, tracing every feature you are able to find. when you traced her lips, you felt her taking a sharp breath, so you look back up into her eyes. you two didn't realise how close you two were now standing, until you felt each other's breath on your skin. before you could think any further, her hand draws you in by the back of your neck, her lips slightly hovering over yours with your hand on her cheek, "can I kiss you?" she asks in a whisper. you almost whimpered, but said "no," which made her instantly retreat in regret, but you hook your other arm around her neck, again looking into her eyes. "tell me why you ignored me all this time,"

she opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again. her eyes switch between your eyes and your lips, and she finally whispers "let me show why," before connecting your lips in a passionate, but clumsy kiss. after a few moments, the books in her hands fell to the floor and her hands were roaming all over your body, like a starving woman finally meeting all her desires. you wrap your arms so tightly around her neck that she feels every inch of your body pressed against hers. every inch. she pushes her leg between yours and a quiet moan escapes your lips, when you feel her firm thigh pressing against your core;

a/n: I'll post part two (definitely nsfw) in the next few days ♥ thanks for reading!!

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: parrotfish

Which fish hangs out on a mermaid pirate's shoulder and repeats what she says in a high-pitched voice? The parrotfish, of course. Or at least in fiction they should (certainly will in my D&D world). But even in real life, parrotfish are still pretty interesting.

(Image: a common parrotfish (Scarus psittacus) seen from the side in front of rocks and corals. It is a brightly-colored fish, mainly light blue but with patches and stripes of yellow and pink on the fins. Its mouth is open, revealing what appears to be a beak. End ID)

Parrotfish are fish famous for their mouths and eating habits. There are about 90 species known. While they were historically considered their own taxonomic family, they have since been reclassified a subset of the wrasse family and there is still some debate on how to classify them. Most species are on the smaller size, but a few can get very large. The largest species is the green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) at 1.5 meters (4.9 ft) and 75 kg (165 lbs) while the smallest species is the bluelip parrotfish (Cryptotomus roseus) reaching 13 cm (5 in). I could not find an average weight for the bluelips. What makes parrotfish really stand out visually is their colors and their mouths. Most species are very brightly colored, with distinct markings and males are usually more brightly colored than females. Their mouths are dominated by what appear to be beaks, which gave them their common name. These beaks are actually made of approximately 1,000 teeth arranged in 15 rows. As the teeth wear out, they drop off and are replaced by the row behind them. The teeth are made of fluorapatite, the second hardest biomineral int the world. To support their hardness, the fluorapatite crystals that make up the teeth are woven together in a structure very similar to chainmail, resulting in very hard teeth that measure in at a 5 on the Mohs scale of hardness. For reference, iron is a 4 and higher numbers are harder. The teeth can also handle 530 tons of pressure. You could put the weight of 200 black rhinos on a tooth and it would be fine. The beaks are powerful enough to bite through rock. Which is what they use it for, but more on that below. Another unusual feature of parrotfish is how they sleep. Some species make their own sleeping bags, which would be adorable if they weren't made of mucus. The mucus is produced using glands in the gills and looks like a transparent bubble. The fish sleeps in the mucus cocoon and when it wakes up, it eats the cocoon. There have been several proposed benefits of the cocoon. It contains chemicals that harm skin parasites while also providing a barrier that keeps new parasites from reaching the fish. It also likely blocks the fish's scent, helping it hide from predators.

(Image: a green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) swimming over yellow coral. It is large and mostly a uniform green color, except for the front of its head, which is pink. It has a large, fleshy lump on the top of its head. End ID)

(Image: a close-up of a parrotfish's beak. The top and bottom beaks are divided into two halves, left and right. The beak is bade of small, circular teeth that overlap each other. End ID)

(Image: another common parrotfish seen from the front. It is inside of a mucus cocoon, which appears as a transparent bubble around the fish. Bits of sand dot the cocoon's surface. End ID)

Parrotfish live worldwide, though the majority of species are found in the Indo-Pacific. They live in warm, shallow waters with lots of rocky reefs, especially coral reefs. They use those powerful teeth to eat and what they eat most is algae. There are three main types of feeding behavior: excavating, scraping, and browsing. Excavators bite into rocks to get their food, scrapers crape food off of the surface of the rocks, and browsers go after larger food sources like seagrass and sponges. Some of the larger parrotfish species also make coral a large part of their diet. When they eat, they naturally get rock in their mouths, moreso in excavators. Because their food clings to the rock, spitting the rocks out would deny them food. Instead, parrotfish use pharyngeal teeth set in their throats to grind the rock into sand, which then passes through the digestive tract. When it exists the digestive tract, it is in the form of fine grains of rock. Or to put it another way, parrotfish eat rock and poop sand. A single parrotfish can produce up to 40 kg (88lbs) of sand yearly, and bigger species can produce even more than that. The process of rock being broken down by living things is called bioerosion and parrotfish are one of the most famous sources of bioerosion. The sand they produce can serve as the basis for new growth of coral or other species and helps reinforce nearby islands. In places like Hawai'i, the Caribbean, and the Maldives, it's estimated that up to 80% of the famous white sand is produced by parrotfish and they serve as a major source of incoming earth to support the islands. This makes parrotfish ecosystem engineers. Their eating of algae is also majorly important to their ecosystems. Algae can overgrow and smother delicate ecosystems like coral reefs and seagrass beds and decaying algae draws oxygen out of the water. Parrotfish help the health of their environments by keeping the algae population at healthy levels. Parrotfish also eat seaweeds and sponges that grow much faster than coral and can smother coral reefs. Parrotfish are considered keystone species in many reefs, including the great barrier reef and their population dropping correlates with reduced health of reefs. Damaged reefs tent to have larger parrotfish populations and those populations drop as the reef recovers.

(Image: a group of many parrotfish feeding on coral. They are all the same species and are mostly blue, with yellow heads and stripes on the face. They appear to be biting the the coral. End ID)

Parrotfish are protogynous sequential hermaprodites. This means that all parrotfish are born female and can become male later in life. The transition is usually triggered when there are too many females or not enough males in a location, though in some species any fish that reaches a certain size will become male. Some parrotfish are solitary while others are social. In social species, the social groups consist of a large male and a harem of females that he protects and claims mating rights with. Other males will attempt to fight the male for dominance via headbutting and threat displays and occasionally one of his harem members will become male to challenge him. Males are usually more colorful than females, which they use to woo females, but also puts them at greater risk of predation. If the harem leader dies and is not replaces, one member of the harem will transition to male and replace him. Many species perform courtship dances during nights of the full moon. In non-social species, males will perform displays and fight with each other to attract females. In social species, the dominant male will mate with his harem while smaller males without harems will try to sneakily woo claimed females or sneak in and mate without being noticed. Parrotfish are broadcast spawners. The female releases her eggs into the water and the males releases sperm to fertilize them. The eggs will drift on the current until settling, after which the larvae will hatch. As with most fish species, only a very few of the larvae will reach adulthood.

(Image: a Mediterranean parrotfish (Sparisoma cretense). It is mostly bright red, but with a yellow patch above the tail and a yellow stripe around the eye that runs down to the belly. A large patch behind the eye is blue. End ID)

Thankfully, most parrotfish species are not particularly endangered. The largest threat to them comes from habitat loss as pollution and climate change harms coral reefs. Reintroducing parrotfish to damaged reefs helps them recover. All species are edible, though there is no commercial fishery for them. While parrotfish are capable of delivering powerful bites, there are few reports of humans getting bit. That being said, I found one case where someone had skin on his penis bitten off by a parrotfish. And yes, that link has pictures. Enjoy.

(Image: a blue parrotfish (Scarus coeruleus) looking at the camera. It is a blue fish with darker patches around the eye. Its snout is bulbous and the beak points downward. End ID).

[reallchristine]

ENERGY ─ chapter two

pairing: logan howlett x !f!reader

Set during x-men (2000) and X2

warnings: angst, hurt, violence, bad grammar?😭, basically the plot of the first movie!

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

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You stand, unable to move as you watch your younger sister lying against the bedroom wall you shared. She utters your name in shock, clutching her chest in pain.

“No, no, no...” You shake your head as your mumbles turn into shouts, watching your sister struggle to breathe.

“Please!” You cry, choking on your sobs as you try to break the unforeseen barrier.

Trying to fix what you’ve done.

But it’s too late.

You jolt awake, sweating and gasping for air. You look around, only to be met with the darkness of your bedroom.

The memories of the accident haunt your dreams. You tried burying the thought of what happened in the past, but it follows you, acting as a reminder of what you’ve done.

Starting to calm down, you slide out of your blankets, put on the slippers that are on the floor beside your bed, and make your way out of your room and down the steps. You enter the hall and finally through the doorway of the kitchen.

You pour yourself a cup of water and sit on the stool, gulping down the water as you try not to think about the recurring dreams that wake you up at night. Instead, you think about the information Jean told you before you headed to bed.

She wanted to give you an update on what they found after Logan’s x-ray. Apparently, his bones were bonded with adamantium metal, and he was able to withstand the process because of his mutation, recalling what Jean had told you.

Before you can continue with your thoughts, you look up to see Logan entering the kitchen.

“Hi,” you say, greeting him with a timid smile.

“Hey.” he replies, as he starts to look around the kitchen.

“Uhm, are you looking for something?” you ask, watching him open the fridge and then close it right after. He turns to you, “Got any beer?”

“This is a school,” you say, staring at him.

“So, no?”

“No.” You reply, shaking your head as you find yourself amused by his odd question.

“If you want something to drink, there’s soda in that cupboard,” you tell him, pointing to its location. He walks up to it, opens the small cupboard door, and reaches for a soda.

“Thanks,” he says, twisting the bottle cap open as he takes a seat across from you. “So, you’re a teacher at this school?” he asks, striking up a conversation.

“Yup, I teach chemistry,” you reply.

“Chemistry, huh,” he says while taking a swig of his drink. He asks another question, “And how’s that working out for ya?”

“Surprisingly well,” you respond with a shrug, pausing as you continue. “I mean, I enjoy science, and I like being able to work with kids, so it’s nice.”

“Looks like that’s going nicely for you,” he says with a bit of humor in his tone.

“I guess you could say that,” you answer, moving off the stool you were sitting on to put away the now-empty cup.

“Anyways, I should be heading back to bed.” you tell him, walking towards the kitchen door.

“Me too,” he replies, letting out a sigh and throwing away his empty bottle, following you.

You both make your way up the stairs heading to your separate rooms.

“Goodnight, Logan.” you say with a sleepy smile.

“‘Night,” he replies, watching you enter your room before he enters his.

You return to your blankets to get some more rest, checking the clock on your nightstand before shutting your eyes: 1:02 a.m.

Turning in bed, you quickly sit up, awakened by the sound of someone screaming.

You run out of your room to see a crowd forming in front of Logan’s bedroom. You rush into the room only to find Rogue using her powers on Logan.

“Everyone back to your rooms!” you say, some kids doing as you asked while others continue to stay.

The others rush into the room after you. Ororo now stands by your side as Scott switches on the lights.

Rogue lets go of Logan as he falls to the ground. “It was an accident.” she says, quickly turning to you and walking away.

The morning after the events of last night leaves you drained. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you prepare to set up the classroom for a new lesson.

Students start coming into your class once the bell rings, sitting at their designated seats. The last of your students to walk through the door is Rogue.

You smile at her when she enters. Rogue quickly takes a seat at her desk as you begin your lesson.

As your students finish the last bit of their notes, the bell rings, indicating the end of class. They pack up quickly, saying goodbye as they leave your class.

“Rogue!” you call as she turns to you, stopping just before the door. “I wanted to ask how you’re doing?”

“I’m fine,” she answers timidly.

“I know what happened last night wasn’t your fault,” you pause, “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

She stares at you.

“Look, I know how it feels to be scared of your mutation,” you tell her.

“No, you don’t,” she replies, shaking her head.

“Trust me, I do,” you say, raising your hand between the two of you as you start forming a small ball of energy in your hand. “I wasn’t able to control my mutation before, and honestly, I’m scared that sometimes I still can’t,” you tell her as the ball of energy slowly disappears.

You continue, “But this place, this school, it helped me. It gave me opportunities I thought I could never have in this cruel world.”

“Which is why I don’t want you to think you’re less than anyone here. You have the same opportunities as everyone else at this school. You deserve to thrive,” you tell her with a smile.

“Thank you.” she says, returning the smile.

“Of course, Rogue-” you say.

“Marie.” she corrects quickly.

“I’m always here if you need me, Marie.” you say to her. She smiles and walks out of your class as the bell rings for your next class.

As the school day finally finishes, you start to clean up the papers left on your desk.

“Y/n!” Ororo says, bursting into your classroom.

“Ororo? What is it?” you ask, confused.

“It’s Rogue. She ran away,” she tells you.

“What?! I just talked to her earlier,” you say.

“Charles found her at a train station. Logan’s already on his way there. Scott and I are going to follow. You should come,” she tells you.

“Alright. But my mutation—”

“You’re going to be fine,” she reassures you. You nod at her as you both walk out of your class.

When you arrive at the station, you walk up to the front desk with Ororo while Scott look’s around.

“She’s about 17, um, my height, and has brown hair,” she tells the man at the ticket booth. You stand close behind her as she continues to speak, when you suddenly hear large footsteps approaching the both of you.

You turn around only to be met with Sabertooth.

“Ororo—” you say before you are grabbed into a chokehold and smashed against the glass.

“Scream for me,” he says.

Ororo, who was caught off guard, tries to use her powers but is suddenly knocked out by Sabertooth, who grabs her and throws her against the wall before dropping you to the floor.

Scott rushes toward you both, pushing people out of the way, only to be stopped when his visor is grabbed, making him shoot a hole in the roof of the station.

You hastily get up with a groan, your neck and head throbbing as you start to build up energy in your hands, stretching your arms and creating a blast of energy.

You fire it toward Sabertooth as he breaks through the wall, hitting the ground from the blast.

You run toward Ororo, who is slowly getting up from the ground. “Are you okay?!” you ask, helping her up.

“Yeah,” she responds, rubbing her head and taking your hand.

“Come on, let’s get Scott,” you say, holding her up while your eyes scan the area for Scott.

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a/n ── this still needs to be proof read! But omg was I struggling to write this chapter😭 I’ve been so busy the past month so forgive me for that😣 I haven’t set a schedule yet for this series but I’ll let u guys know! Also some of the @ are not working for the taglist so just message me if you want to be added!

🏷️: @cxptainbuck @thecraziestcrayon @marvelgirlie-4 @ravenslvt @malfoys-demigod @byhuenii @avatarobsessedgirly @kinokomoonshine

[darkfalcone]

Cursed From the Start

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio/Reader

Warning: Mentions Noncon, Angst, Crying, Light Fluff

Summary: Nat and you finally get a moment to yourselves and it doesn't go as you expected.

Part three in the Nat’s Girlfriend series

You stared up at the shelter’s ceiling, trying your best to fall asleep. You couldn’t get comfortable, but it wasn’t even because of the thin blankets underneath you on the hard ground. It was raining and a bit colder than usual now that the spring had hit. You couldn't sleep with Shauna’s arm wrapped around you while she was fast asleep. You hated this, unsure of what to do. It had been three weeks since they found Coach since Nat told Shauna, but you haven’t spoken to her. Let alone even looked at her, but now as the rain hit the roof, all you could think about was her.

You tried to steady your breathing, in fear that Shauna would wake up with how close she was to you. It wasn’t working, so you held your breath and moved Shauna’s arm off you. Although it was raining, you needed to get out of the shelter Shauna was having you stay in.

You whimpered as you stood up—you were sore from Shauna fucking you before she fell asleep. She had explained to you that Mari had pissed her off and she needed to use you to relieve it. Of course she gave you no chance to say no before she was pulling your clothes off. You felt gross and dirty, and a part of you knew Nat would never be able to look at you the same. The other part of you told you that Nat was going to love you no matter what, despite what Shauna was doing to you.

You looked at Shauna a few more times before slowly making your way out of her shelter. You rushed to Nat’s, not wanting to waste any time as you got in.

“Nat?” You whispered, not wanting to be too loud despite the rain being a good sound barrier.

“Yeah?” she asked.

You heard rustling, and you knew she was getting up from her spot on the ground. You felt sick to your stomach, not wanting to get hurt again, but deep down you feared that Nat didn’t love you anymore. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on not crying as Nat made her way closer to you.

“Does Shauna know you’re here?” Nat questioned, hesitant to look you in the eyes. “I don’t want her to hurt you anymore than she has.”

You bit your lip as your tears came out. Nat pulled you into a hug, sniffling as she held you tightly, refusing to let you go in the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Nat whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You pulled back a little, wiping the tears from your eyes. You couldn’t look her in the eye, looking behind her as you thought of what you were going to say. It wasn’t that you were angry with her; you just wished she had done something sooner when Shauna was trying to get her to say where Ben was.

“Can I come in? Shauna’s asleep, and this is the only time we can have together.” You said, wanting to get away from the doorway of her shelter.

Nat nodded, moving away from you so you could have some space to come in. As soon as you did, Nat sat back down, patting the ground next to her. You sat down next to her as she reached over and grabbed her backpack. You smiled when she moved it in front of her, remembering that you had gotten it for her after she said she really wanted it one day when the two of you went to the mall. The small memory made you tear up again before she grabbed something out of her bag.

“This is for you; put it in your bag so whenever you carry your bag around, I’m with you.” Nat said, placing something in your hands. “I know it’s not much, but since Shauna won’t… you know… she just won’t notice it in your bag.”

You looked down, smiling at what seemed to be a small keychain made out of a pull tab from her backpack and some string. You started to cry again, hating how everything had gone down.

“I love it,” you admitted, making a mental note to hide it in your backpack. “Thank you, Nat.”

Nat smiled, looking at the entrance of her shelter—she kept her focus on it for a few moments before turning back to you. She gave you a smile, moving her hand to yours before pulling it away.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked.” Nat said, putting both of her hands in her lap.

“You can hold my hand; I want you to.” You tell her, watching as she brought the hand that was closest to you to your hand.

You took her hand and held it as the two of you sat in silence. You weren’t sure as to how much time passed, but you didn’t care. You missed Nat more than anything, and a part of you wished that the cabin hadn’t burned down. That Jackie was still alive and that the plane didn’t crash. You wanted your life to go back to the way it was, but you knew that even if you were rescued, nothing would go back to normal.

“I love you, Nat,” you whispered, not trusting your voice anymore. “Despite what Shauna has done to me, I love you, and all I want is you.”

Nat bit her lip, studying your face to see anything close to indicating you were lying. You hated that you could see it, but deep down, you understood. You grew anxious, waiting for her to say something, but as she stayed quiet, you stood up from your spot. As you turned around and headed in the direction of the entrance—tears falling at the realization that Nat couldn’t say it back.

You took a deep breath, holding the makeshift keychain that she had given to you tight in your hand. You walked out of the shelter and rushed back to the shelter you shared with Shauna.

You jumped as you saw Shauna was awake and sitting up with a single candle lit.

“Where have you been, baby?”

[soyeonsbabygirl]

Never Lose Me | Hirai Momo x Reader

You and Momo met years ago as trainees. She barely spoke Korean and you knew no Japanese but despite the language barrier, you both became fast friends. You guys were instantly inseparable almost always being seen together. You guys were both excited when you found out you’d be on SIXTEEN together despite it meaning you would also be each other’s competition.

You still remember the face she made when she was eliminated and how distraught you felt at the idea of not being able to debut with her. You sobbed in Jihyo’s arms loudly as she and Chaeyeon both tried to comfort you. You still made it to the final lineup despite struggling to actually want to debut after she had left.

When she was revealed to come back for the final line up you remember the hug she gave you and how good it felt for her arms to be around your waist. From that point, one thing became clear to you. You could never lose her.

All of you were in the practice room trying to perfect the choreography for your guys new song “I Got You”. You all were currently taking a break after working nonstop and you were currently sitting on the floor not paying attention to whatever it was Nayeon was telling you. Your gaze was on Momo and Dahyun.

Those two had gotten especially close during the tour and during the music video. Momo was holding Dahyun close to her whispering things in her ear that made Dahyun giggle, making you dig your nails into your thigh. Momo’s hand resting on Dahyun’s waist made your skin crawl and in the worst way.

“You’re not subtle you know” you turned looking at Nayeon who gave you a teasing smile. “It’s obvious you like her” you sighed in response to Nayeon’s words “not to her.” Jihyo who was sitting near you put her hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “I wouldn’t worry about them they’re just friends.” “Friends that try to kiss each other.” You spat back clenching your jaw at Momo kissing Dahyun’s cheek a bit too close to her lips, “well staring at them isn’t gonna solve anything for you.” Nayeon replied attempting to lighten your mood. You sighed , looking away trying to busy yourself with something else.

Back at the dorms it was worse. Those two were practically all over each other as if they were the only two in the world. You were sat across from them on the couch while they cuddled and whispered sweet nothings to each other. You were jealous you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. It was hard not to be especially since it felt like you were losing her, but this time it felt worse than SIXTEEN, worse than all the other times where you thought she liked other people, it was one of your friends and members you were losing her to.

The last straw for you, was when Chaeyoung had attempted to make a joke . “Are you sure that you and Dahyunie aren’t dating? you guys are so close you might as well be!” majority of the group laughed but you didn’t. It looked as if Momo’s grip had gotten even tighter around Dahyun’s waist like she was about to kiss her which was something you didn’t want to see.

You stood up going to your room ignoring the girls calling you back. You slammed the door to your room the sound being heard throughout the dorm. You didn't even realize when you started crying but when you did you couldn’t stop, the tears freely just falling down your cheeks.

You always thought in a weird way that you and Momo were always gonna be together or at least that in a weird way were destined together, but with the way she was acting with Dahyun made you think otherwise. Maybe you just needed to accept that you had lost her or realize the fact that you weren't good enough for her. That’s probably the real reason why you guys weren’t dating right now.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at your door which at first you were gonna ignore but you didn’t get the chance to since they opened the door right after they knocked. You looked up about to tell them to leave assuming it was Nayeon or Jihyo but you were met with Momo’s face making the words get stuck in your throat. Her hand went to your cheek in an action so gentle you couldn’t help but lean into her touch. After a few minutes of you both just sitting on your bed like that she eventually spoke.

“Why did you leave like that? Chaeyoung was just-” you cut her off with a kiss before she could finish her sentence. Her lips were softer than you had imagined, the faint smell of her shampoo filling your nose making you dizzy almost. You pulled away quickly when you realized she wasn’t kissing back an unreadable expression on her face her eyes filled with multiple emotions you couldn’t read at the moment.

“I’m sorry, I don't know what came over me. I just saw how you were Dahyun and felt as if-” this time you were cut off by Momo’s lips meeting yours. this kiss was more passionate than the other, she got scared and almost pulled away when she didn’t feel you kiss her back but you relaxed into the kiss pretty easily feeling as if all your fantasies were coming true. Momo deepened the kiss as she held your face while one of your hands moved to her waist bringing you closer to her.

She broke the kiss giving your neck attention as she left a mix of kisses and small nips down it making you gasp softly, her fingers went underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin under her fingertips. You didn’t protest, allowing her to take the lead as if it was all meant to happen.

“Fuck!” you moaned out while Momo had one of your legs on her shoulders and held your waist with the other. She was grinding her clit against yours creating sensations in your body that you felt only she was capable of making you feel.

You’ve hooked up with other people before but never have any of them made you feel this good like Momo did, she was so attentive with everything at first from the way she had ate you out earlier to how she was scissoring you. Momo loved watching the faces you made every time her pussy collided with hers, it felt even better each time.

The hand on your hip pushed you down even more as she sped up both of you getting wetter leading to you both moaning at same time. Momo’s nails dug into your skin creating little crescents while you whined thrusting your hips up.

“Shit, you look so good like this yn. I’ve never had a girl make me feel this good before” she moaned out bending down desperately needing your lips against hers again. The kiss was feverish as you let out a mix of moans and whines against her lips only focusing on the pleasure you felt.

You pulled away from her lips eventually moving down to her tits that looked so beautiful and full from this angle, you took one of them in your mouth sucking it hard as she sped up moaning even louder from the the stimulation of you sucking her breast. She could feel herself even closer as she let out more moans and judging by the way you whined against her she could tell you were too.

You pulled away from her boob arching your back letting out a chorus of moans whilst chanting her name like a mantra, your hips shake as you climaxed as Momo made you feel as if you were seeing stars. The sight of your face contorting to pleasure as well as the moans you let out was enough to make her orgasm as a string of profanities left her lips, you both now stared at each other panting heavily.

She fell onto your chest completely slumped as you both waited for your heart rates to settle and regain your composure. “I’ve never had someone like you in my life” Momo said looking up at you. You meet her gaze, only to be met with the beautiful beautiful sight of Momo after sex, her bangs as well as a few stray hairs sticking to her forehead. “I’m sorry for leaving like that earlier. I just couldn't stand the sight of you with Dahyun” you confessed making her smile slightly, “just like how I can't stand the sight of seeing you with Nayeon sometimes.”

You both looked at each other in silence an unspoken tranquility filling you both. Momo was yours and you were hers, you would never lose her.

[sanjoongie]

Testing the Theory

ღPairing: Director! Park Seonghwa x Professor of Dreams! Reader (f) x Professor of Battle! (General) Hongjoong

ღGenre: angst, smut

ღTrope: enemies to lovers, exes to lovers

ღAu: Modern Wizardry School au, Professors au, white and black magic au, army au

ღWord Count: 4,507

ღWarnings: magical somnophilia, sex dreams, restraints, pain into pleasure spell, dubcon (roleplaying, the dubcon/cnc is in the roleplay, there is not actual dubious consent), biting, marking, breast play, glove kink, mxm, jerking off, fingering, nipple play, edging, cuckolding, breeding kink, oral kink, penetrative sex with no barrier

ღRated: 18+ MDNI

ღSummary: you literally flee from the truth to stay away from a broken heart but nothing ever stops director park. that's why you may have put him to sleep, but will that really help you?

ღBeta’s: @downtoamagicalland

ღPlaying while writing: Man on Fire, because if that isn't Wizard Director! Hwa, i don't know what is

ღPrevious Part| ღMini Masterlist | ღNext Part

“Well well well, seems like I'm not the only one you like to rub into Wooyoung’s face. I'm wounded.”

You whined and buried your face deeper into the pillow. “Seonghwa, why are you yelling?!”

“Oh, believe you me, lover, I'm not yelling. Yet.”

You blinked blearily up at Seonghwa, whose face was a mask of slight amusement but his eyes burned dark. You quickly remembered drinking with Hongjoong and saluting your fallen comrades. And as it turned out, that ‘pillow’ you had been burying your face into was Hongjoong’s chest. 

“Good morning, Reaper,” Hongjoong said in a gravelly morning voice that made your stomach dip.

Seonghwa dipped his head in a cordial acknowledgement. “General.”

“What time is it?” You croaked.

“The sun has risen,” Seonghwa informed you.

“If I'm not late for class, why the hell are you here, Director Park?”

Seonghwa laughed, dry and sarcastic. “I was worried. After yesterday morning, I worried for you. Then I heard you took your last class off and I worried for you. Then I found out that Professor Kim had specially requested his Lieutenant to speak to his students. How cute. And then I overheard our very favourite student talk about how he was pretty sure the professor of dreams and the professor of battle had fucked. Imagine my surprise when I sent out a location demon and it brought me to this spot, this place, with you two cozied up like you never broke each other’s hearts.”

Hongjoong sat up, letting you slip away. “We didn't do anything, Seonghwa,” he insisted.

“Did she let you comfort her when she was hurting?” Seonghwa demanded quietly.

“We didn't fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong insisted again.

Seonghwa’s eyes shone with an intensity that made your mouth dry. “I didn't ask that.”

You got out of bed and found your heels. “I didn't tell him about my dream,” you aimed at Seonghwa, well aware of what he was subtly referring to. 

“What dream?” Hongjoong snapped. He didn't understand the situation and it was fraying his nerves.

You raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa and he blew out a bit of his anger. “See? And so much for you being able to share,” you mocked the director.

“Now wait a fucking minute,” Hongjoong interrupted, his anger full blown now. 

“My apologies, General. It seems I've gotten my panties in a twist,” Seonghwa said dryly.

You made your way towards the door when Hongjoong called you out. “Where are you going?”

“I want something greasy to eat,” You said.

“Now you may be able to get away with not telling Seonghwa about your dream but I know better. You speak with your subconscious in your dreams. What has it been telling you?” Hongjoong asked.

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa sat down on the bed and crossed his legs. “She woke up with a gasp. She said she had a bad dream.”

“How bad, Lieutenant?” Hongjoong growled.

You swallowed. “I woke up. It's fine.”

Seonghwa’s eyes followed your back and forth like it was titillating. “What does that mean?”

“It means her dreams were always dangerous when we were at war. They usually told her just how much in danger she was. Except they also almost killed her. That's why she started sleeping with me. At first, it was for the sex, to stay awake. Later, it was because I never slept and could wake her in case the dreams became… violent. So I will ask you again, Lieutenant, how bad?”

“I couldn't breathe,” You admitted.

“Is that why you told me you needed some room to breathe?” Seonghwa questioned.

“If you're feeling the danger already…?” Hongjoong appeared deep in thought. “Does that mean we don't have much time?”

Your lie to Hongjoong was convenient at this moment. He never knew that your similar bad dreams about Hongjoong correlated with your heart and not the war. You didn't want either of them to know the truth.

“They're not violent yet,” You said hesitantly, “So there might still be time.”

“So you’re saying we need to start ensuring she shares a bed with one of us?” Seonghwa clarified towards Hongjoong.

You were almost at the door when Hongjoong snapped at you again. “You put one hand on that doorknob and I will have you on your back so fast you won’t know what happened,” Hongjoong growled at you.

There was the man that had been your Captain. You whipped around, feeling like a trapped animal at this moment. “I will push you so far into a dream that you won’t wake up until a century passes,” You snarled right back.

Seonghwa looked wary. “Can she do that?”

“Wanna find out?” You wet your lips, preparing for the spell that was on the tip of your tongue.

“Yes, Seonghwa, if she’s having violent dreams, she’s going to need some supervision,” Hongjoong opted to respond instead.

“Seonghwa can have one of his demon’s watch over me while I sleep,” You dismissed the notion immediately. You didn’t want that but you really didn’t need the alternative. The dreams were only going to get more violent if that happened.

Hongjoong’s wheels turned in his head and you didn’t like the way he was studying you. “You know for someone who was a part of the Intelligence Corp, you lie for shit, Lieutenant.”

“Well, excuse me for not wanting two men hovering over me like I’m a damsel in distress!”

“Lover…” Seonghwa looked wistful. “That’s not it.”

“Let her rage, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Stubborn until the day she dreams forever, that’s the Lieutenant.”

Except Seonghwa never knew how to stop. Or maybe he did and refused to. Seonghwa always pushed until he was satisfied. 

The director stepped up to your form, his lanky body slightly looming over you. He curved a hand fondly over the side of your face. “Why couldn't you breathe in your dream?”

“I would like some food now, please. Even if it’s not Wooyoung’s.” You refused to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

“You’ll get fed when you answer the question,” Seonghwa insisted softly but firmly.

“Then I’ll starve,” You muttered. “Am I free to go now, General?” You said Hongjoong’s title like it was an insult.

“You’re dismissed, Mistress of Dreams,” Hongjoong said with a sharp jerk of his chin. 

You ripped out of Seonghwa’s grasp and stomped down the stairs of the inn. 

“Have a happy--?” San’s eyes wandered after you and stopped talking suddenly. “Seonghwa, when did you get here?”

“I don’t understand!” Seonghwa called after you as your heels clipped along the stones towards the school. “Why is that dream so important for you to not tell me the details?”

“Let it go, Seonghwa,” You shouted back. 

For once, you wished you had Hongjoong’s speed.

“I won’t,” Seonghwa refused. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that your dreams could get violent like that?”

“It’s none of your damn business!” You refused to answer his questions.

“You, Mistress of Dreams, are starting to get on my nerves,” Seonghwa growled. “What do you mean it’s none of my business. I care about you!”

“That’s the problem!” You screeched. “Stop caring.”

“What’s wrong, Lover?” Seonghwa crooned. He practically stalked you, walking with his hands in his pockets, like you were prey and he a large cat. “Afraid you’ll catch feelings too?”

Not when that had already happened. “It’s annoying. It’s a weight I’d rather not carry.”

“Good thing I’m strong enough for the both of us then,” Seonghwa dismissed you within a moment's notice.

You were at your wits end. “No, Seonghwa, you are not strong enough for the two of us! You get hurt with every barbed phrase I send your way. You got jealous finding Hongjoong and I cuddling. You have left your heart open and vulnerable and it’s going to get ripped from your chest.”

“I get hurt but I can endure it! Because I--”

“You fucking say those words and I will resign!” You threatened.

That caused Seonghwa to actually pause. “You wouldn’t.”

“You have no idea how desperate I am right now,” You heaved.

Seonghwa’s face was stormy again. “It’s his fault isn’t it? He’s scarred your heart so badly that you don’t have room to heal. If I could go back in time and wring his scrawny little neck and steal you for myself--”

“Would you have killed me?” You interrupted him.

“...what?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you know how many of your comrades died because I ate their dreams and they never woke up? How do you know it wasn’t me that kept your beloved Captain in a dreamless state so that Hongjoong could kill her? I was integral to the war, Seonghwa. I could be dead at your hands if you had known who I was. Don’t speak of stupid what-if’s, they never help. I am in charge of my heart and I’m saying I don’t want you to have a piece of it.” You stared at Seonghwa as the sun filled the sky slowly but surely. 

“Let me watch over you as you sleep, Dreameater” Seonghwa begged.

The nickname you had acquired from your enemies almost slapped you in the face. “You are fucking tiring,” You spat. “Leave me alone, Director.”

“You're… more angry today. More angry than normal. Please, tell me something. Anything,” Seonghwa begged.

You sighed heavily. If Seonghwa wasn’t going to leave you alone then… drastic times call for drastic measures. 

You walked back towards where Seonghwa was standing behind you. You muttered the Chinese word for sleep, invoking the bedchamber goddess Chuángmǔ, and pressed two fingers to Seonghwa’s forehead. 

“Wha..?” Seonghwa mumbled and then fell asleep where he stood. 

You barely caught him before he slumped over, letting out a loud ‘oof’. “Could your shoulders be any broader?” You said to absolutely no one. 

You invoked next the Celtic Goddess Cerridwen, using some Welsh to command Seonghwa to walk. You kept a step behind him in case he stumbled, but you intended to walk him right to his bedroom and leave him there until he woke up the next morning. Maybe you’d even stop by Mingi’s office and let him know the director was down with a bad headache for the day. 

You steered Seonghwa all the way to his bed and it took but a slight push to his back and he collapsed onto his bed. You contemplate leaving him like that, just to make a point, but then that feeling of Nightmare Seonghwa suffocating you resurfaced and you shook your head. You did not need to be the reason that man died, despite the many times you had threatened him with it.

You climbed on the bed. You pushed and pulled to move the lanky man to his back, gasping and sweating at the labor. 

You looked down to admire your progress and then felt a pang in your chest. Whether it was from the guilt of using your powers selfishly or from the view below you, that was uncertain. But you pushed a strand of Seonghwa's hair out of his face nonetheless.

Somehow, without his ability to smirk and poke at you, he seemed younger, and more innocent, as he laid there sleeping. 

“Why must you be such a pushy, insufferable man?” You muttered to yourself.

Still, he was quite handsome, lying there, small puffs of air leaving those pink, plush lips. 

You already have gone this far… Maybe it was worth taking one more step and seeing what Seonghwa was dreaming about? That way he'd take you more seriously and stop pushing you so much.

You closed your eyes, still straddling Seonghwa on his bed and simply stepped into the other plane that was your playground. 

💭😴💤Inside Seonghwa’s dream💭😴💤

You couldn't help but stiffen as you took in the scene that you had opened your eyes to. You were well familiar with the layout of the Black Magic User’s encampment. The Dark tents that appeared more like a traveling circus than an army. You had been here many many times in many many dreams. But you had simply been an observer, not a participant. This time was different.

Goddamn it, Park Seonghwa, you thought to yourself.

You were in the tight, white uniform from your days in the civil war. You were ‘hanging’ in the air by the many demon hands Seonghwa had used on you before in his bedroom at Twilight Academy. You never actually supposed he used them on the enemy as a weapon--or a means of torture.

“Now, Lieutenant, I would like the answer to my question,” The Reaper purred as he stalked around you.

The white haired Director you had fallen into bed with was vastly different from the legend that Hongjoong had once defeated. This one had dark hair held in a bun at the top of his head. He sported the dark green uniform of the opposition. You had to admit, he still looked handsome in severe clothing. Perhaps the uniform was the reason he flaunted his fashion nowadays.

If you didn’t want Seonghwa to wake up, you now had to play into this fantasy. You sent a small prayer to Shai, the Egyptian god of fortune, to send good luck your way. You were going to need it. 

You painted a bored expression on your face. “I drowned you out ages ago, what is it that you’ve been bothering me about?”

Seonghwa took a step closer in his shiny black boots. “Give up your Captain to me and this charade can come to a close.”

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes. Of course he would be dreaming of this. 

“I’m loyal to The White Magic Users and to my Captain. You’ll never get me to turn, you despicable, high-handed, dirty--”

A demon hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, halting your plethora of negative adjectives. It didn’t surprise you that Seonghwa simply wanted to hear himself speak in his own dream. He often did that in the real world as well.

Seonghwa leaned in to whisper into your ear suggestively. “If you won’t willingly give up the information, I have other means of getting them.”

Goosebumps dotted your skin. You knew that Seonghwa would never harm you but this was a dream. There was a chance that Seonghwa could be so deep in his subconsciousness that he was reverting back to the days of the war. Perhaps--

“Means that I believe we will both enjoy,” Seonghwa continued. 

His demon's hands began to simultaneously undo the buttons for your high neck jacket and pull up your tight skirt. 

Oh god, you were trapped in a sex dream with The Reaper.

You struggled in your restraints but that only made Seonghwa smile amusedly. “Must you maintain the air that you don’t want this? Because I know you do.”

Seonghwa’s gloved hand moved to leisurely cup your mound and pressed against your hole through your underwear. When he brought his hand to his mouth and licked it, his smile bloomed into a grin. “See? Wet and ripe, just for me.”

Your muffled arguments dotted the air but Seonghwa deigned to keep the demon hand over your mouth. You had no one to curse but yourself, for being curious as to what exactly Seonghwa had been dreaming about. In your attempt to escape him and banish him to sleep you had effectively trapped yourself with him as well. You were an idiot.

The demon hands that had exposed you were now working on massaging both your breasts through your chemise under your jacket. You moaned against the demon hand still gagging you. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up at the sound. 

“Pretty noises for me already, Dreameater? I think I will very much enjoy playing with you.”

You glared daggers at Seonghwa but that only seemed to make his pupils blow. He physically grabbed your face and turned it to the side so he could lick a long strip along your neck. He moaned wantonly at the taste of the anger on your skin. Some things never changed. 

The reaper fell to his knees to lick and suck along the exposed skin of your stomach. He rolled his eyes upwards to look at you, as his tongue circumvented your belly button and moved lower. He nipped and sucked, making all kinds of marks on your skin. 

The demon hands pulled and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks through your chemise. You couldn't help but press your thighs together, looking to relieve some pressure that was building there. That did not escape the Reaper’s notice. 

He clucked his tongue. “Now, we can’t have that. Do you need something, Lieutenant?”

Your lips pressed to a thin line even when the demon hand lifted from your face.. “I have nothing to say to you,” You insisted.

“No? That’s too bad,” Seonghwa said with pretend sympathy. 

His lips jumped over your scrunched up skirt and then he groaned loudly when he pushed your thighs apart and pushed his face into your underwear. 

“This is my favourite place to be,” He whispered to himself.

Why did this man have to be so obsessed with you? He made you want to break all the oaths you swore to yourself after the civil war ended. He wasn’t good for your heart. 

You were pulled from your inner turmoil when Seonghwa ripped your underwear right off your body. “Look at how wet you are for me, Lieutenant. Is your Captain not satisfying you?”

You turned your nose upwards. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Ah, still stubborn as always. Lucky for me, I know how to get you to sing.”

Seonghwa’s voice went deep as he called on Freyr, and when you saw a boat drift upwards, you knew you were in deep shit. Seonghwa was using the spell he had originally cast on you, the one that turned pain into pleasure.

Still, you had to play into your role. “What kind of black magic curse did you just cast on me?” You growled as you struggled in the hold of the demon hands. 

Seonghwa chuckled lowly and then bit into the flesh part of your thigh. You felt your lower half flood with desire and you whimpered at the pleasure one simple bite did for you. 

“Did you like that?” Seonghwa crooned. “Did that make you clench down on nothing? I can help you with that. You just have to tell me exactly where your Captain is and I can make you feel so good.”

“Never,” You said through gritted teeth.

Thus started Seonghwa biting into every inch of your left thigh, leaving teeth marks everywhere. And when he ran out of flesh, he only moved to the other thigh. You were eventually panting and desperate, whining at the desire that was thrumming through your body. 

His gloved hand ran along your folds, sweeping up any wetness that pooled there and then he sucked on his fingers. The motions did nothing for your desire for he didn’t enter your hole nor did he touch your clit. 

“Don't you want my gloved fingers inside of you, lover?” Seonghwa continued to tempt you in a sing-song voice. “Don't you want my glorious tongue exploring your folds? I know they warned good little magic users about us. They did it for good reason. We will give into all your baser desires. All you have to do is give up your Captain, and he'll trade places with you. He can be tortured and tempted while I make sweet love to your body.”

“Seong--seonghwa,” You whimpered pathetically. 

The Reaper stood tall in order to lean in so his ear was pressed up against your lips. “Tell me.”

You licked the shell of his ear and he shivered delicately from the motion. “Go. To. Hell,” You whispered.

Seonghwa let out a noise that was part laugh and part groan. “I thought I could break you. Oh well.”

Seonghwa’s voice went high and sweet as he called on Hermes. One second you were being held and groped by Seonghwa’s demon hands, and the next, you were in Seonghwa’s arms and Hongjoong was being held and groped by the demon hands.

Your eyes went wide at the view: the demon hands were pulling aside Hongjoong’s jacket only to grope and tug at his nipples. Another palmed him through his pants and massaged his balls. If Hongjoong appeared as an absolute wreck, then what was your fate?

“See, Lieutenant? See how he enjoys being tortured so? You needn't protect him from me. You were both made for me,” Seonghwa cooed as he pressed his cheek to yours, his stance behind you. 

Is this truly what Seonghwa wanted? Or was it his guilty pleasure? His way to work through his trauma from the civil war? Unless you actually asked him, you wouldn't get an answer, and even so, you were pretty sure he wouldn't give you a straight one.

You turned in Seonghwa’s grasp, and whimpered, “Mercy. Please, clemency for us both.” You made two fists in Seonghwa’s uniform.

Seonghwa smoothed his hands over your fists, flattening them against his chest. He smiled so fondly down at you, that you had a hard time keeping his gaze. “You know I’d do anything for you, lover.”

The demon hands stopped their motions on Hongjoong and he whined. “What’s going on?”

Seonghwa smirked. “Your lieutenant has asked for clemency.”

Hongjoong’s form trembled. “I want more.”

Seonghwa cocked his head. “The question is, what do you want, Lieutenant?”

It was your turn to tremble in Seonghwa’s arms. You could let go just this once, right? Just for this dream, so that Seonghwa’s conscience wouldn’t figure out this wasn’t his dream version of you but the real you invading his dreams. “If Hongjoong--”

Seonghwa clucked his tongue in disappointment. “What did I just say?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Yes, Lover?”

“Please…?” Your mouth was dry and your heart beat to a rhythm that you were sure wasn’t good for you. 

“What is it that you want?” Seonghwa purred.

“Please give us what we want.”

Seonghwa chuckled lowly. “Oh no, you’ll have to do much better than that.”

“Take me in front of Hongjoong and edge him with your demon hands,” You whispered.

Seonghwa shivered, you could feel it, from head to toe. “As you wish.”

Seonghwa turned you around, so that you could watch all the ways his demon hands were torturing Hongjoong. Hongjoong’s hips pushed against one hand that was fisting his cock. Another was behind him, fucking him full of demon fingers. Two hands massaged his chest, taking their time to flick his nipples when the time was right. Nothing muffled his cries, which was probably for the best, because the way that Hongjoong was panting with his tongue out had to be one of your favourite views of him.

They continued to molest your captain as Seonghwa plunged into you from behind. He kept one hand on your hip, keeping you in place so that he could fuck you, and then two fingers inside of your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits obediently. Your breasts bounced with each thrust into you. 

“See, I told you that you two were meant for me,” Seonghwa growled. “See how wet you both are for me? Whining and wanting more. Brats, the both of you, needing to be put in your place. You two are mine and that’s how it will be.”

Hongjoong’s cries grew into a crescendo; high pitched and pretty, when Seonghwa’s demon hands halted their progress. His shoulders heaved and sweat dropped down his chest and off his face. 

“Again,” Hongjoong said, his voice croaking. 

The demon hands started back up again and Hongjoong moaned in relief.

Seonghwa removed his fingers from your mouth and pressed the wet digits to your clit. Then he bit into your shoulder. The triple stimulation of Seonghwa fucking you good, rubbing your clit and the bite was more than enough to bring you over the edge of destruction. You screamed his name as you spiraled into the pleasure zipping through your nerves.

The Reaper held himself inside of you and bit down even harder onto your shoulder, spurting inside of you. You would have screamed bloody murder if not for the reminder that you couldn't get pregnant, this was just a dream. His tongue lathed at his marks and he slowly thrusted through his high. 

“What cute little white and black magic user babies we’ll make,” Seonghwa sighed.

Your view began to get cloudy, and the edge of the frame of the tent began to fall away like sand sifting down an opening. The dream was complete, and Seonghwa was regaining consciousness. Thank god, because you did not like where this was going. Why did he always bring up the babies?

💭😴💤Seonghwa’s Dream Done💭😴💤

The dream had ended and you were free. From the dream, at least. Seonghwa groaned when he woke up. A sleepy, happy smile pulled at his features when he felt your soft form against his. “Good morning, Lover.”

You mumbled nonsense and sat up. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in alarm. “What exactly did we get up to that we are waking up in this state?”

You were fully dressed but straddling the director. You winced because you could feel the wet spot on your underwear where you had climaxed in Seonghwa’s dream. Seonghwa must be feeling a similar situation inside of his pants. You did your best to not wince guiltily. 

“We were both tired after our… discussion. You suggested a calming nap and I agreed to such before classes started.” Completely avoiding the question of course. Did that bugger not remember his own dream? After everything you did to endure it?!

Seonghwa quirked an eyebrow at you. “A nap? In the morning? You?”

You avoided his gaze. “It was a peace offering after finding me in bed with Hongjoong. I wanted to show you that I could find comfort in your arms as well.” 

That was not a lie you wanted to tell, or a seed you wanted to plant, but you knew Seonghwa would latch onto it. 

You almost felt bad when Seonghwa’s face broke out into an even happier smile and then he was hugging you back down to his chest, the way he found you when he woke up. “Are you compromising for little ol’ me, Dreameater?”

“Pretty noises for me already, Dreameater? I think I will very much enjoy playing with you.”

A shudder ran through you, that memory of Seonghwa’s dream unable to be shaken from your mind. “Seonghwa,” You growled in warning.

Seonghwa laughed merrily and then kissed you on the crown of your head. “Let’s get cleaned up and ready for classes today.”

Seonghwa rolled you to your back and he stood up. His demon hands moved around, grabbing toiletries and a new outfit today. You had to remain lying on your back because even the damn demon hands were triggering.

What the hell did you just get yourself into now?

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Twilight Academy Taglist: @wooyoungqueen @babiestarrcandy @michael-angelhoe @smallfrye @park-simphwa @spooo00oky @novocainenoon

[aechlys]

I finally spun the same 45 Atsushi had of "Let My Name Be Sorrow" by Mary Hopkin this evening. It's the first 45 I've ever played on my record player.

Some of you guys might remember when I first realized what the record at the top of the pile was after this photo of Atsushi had been bothering me subconsciously for months. This artist in particular is very personal to me because, as somewhat obscure today as she is (perhaps unless you're in the UK), I was raised on her.

This 45 was one of the very first things I searched for in the shops in Japan in October. Playing it now, I really expected it to be the Japanese language version of the song, but it *wasn't*. Mary recorded various language versions of many of her songs, and, judging by the Japanese version's kinda subpar lyrics, I reckon it wasn't an easy crossover feat. This is perhaps why I found myself rather relieved when I put this on and found only the original English version playing.

Somehow, it's comforting to know Atsushi heard this version.

The song is emotional and dramatic and all the things he also came to do and convey when he grew up and evolved as an artist himself. As a kid I really used to think this song was a bit over the top, and I still rather do. But it doesn't make it any less cathartic or impactful. Mary gives a moving performance that, clearly, at least for this man, transcended language barriers.

The B-side is Kew Gardens which is a fanciful little song about creatures meeting on a rainy day in the park. Extremely kid-friendly and a 180 contrast to the drama-filled break-up ballad of "Let My Name Be Sorrow".

I find myself wondering again how on *earth* he got this record, how he even knew about Mary Hopkin at all. Again, she's a rather obscure artist today. I only know of her because my parents were Beatles fanatics. But Mary Hopkin doesn't generally show up on anybody's radars, and while I'm aware she had some decent success in the 60s in Japan, that was a long time ago.

So now I'm left to wonder. How did he get this? Was it a gift? Was it....maybe the position of this record being at the very top of the pile is pure coincidence, but was it somehow a favorite? "Let My Name Be Sorrow" came out in 1971. Was it somehow a childhood record? Maybe his parents had it and played it? Especially as "Kew Gardens" played, I could half imagine four or five year old Atsushi sat in front of the speakers listening to such a whimsical, sweet song and wondering at the pretty but incomprehensible voice singing to him about griffins and raindrops. And somehow all these years- some 52 years- later, he still has it, still plays it, and thinks back to all that. Perhaps even later influencing the creation of "小さな森の人"? Perhaps?

My imagination absolutely ran a little wild as I listened to it play. But who's to say it isn't the true story, or close to it? It could be. It could be....

A bit bewildered over the summer at the discovery, I ended up showing the photo to my dad. "What do you think? Were the records here just props for the photo or do you think they were really his?" My dad, who has worked with a lot of musicians over the years, answered without hesitation, "Oh, definitely his. Definitely."

I desperately want to believe he's right.

[iridescentscarecrow]

struggling to put this into words but kind of obsessed with how the rain making ritual in aono-kun is such an undoubtedly public one, submerged in festival landscape & the open air, & yet the ugliness of the dreams it imparts is experienced intimately, personally, diverging from what is known & shrouded under the living/dead barrier...

the wedding ritual right after it relies on bloodline, the correct director, & it's enclosed in a small auditorium... unlike the rain bringing ritual, it imparts nothing unto you; it dredges the ugly & private bits out of yourself & shoves them at your audience, at your family, at the one hundred eyes upon you...

the shame associated with teenage pregnancy also seems significant here... it's so visceral, you're not emerging from the waterfall unharmed, your clay self has taken in a part of him, has mutated & this mutation is somehow *more* unspeakable of than the hair & the eyes... the horror in the wedding ritual isn't the paranormal occurences of the prev. volumes,, those are almost absent... it's the past, vomited out on stage, contained within the tragedy of the play's [love story]...

like a lot of aono's mom's masking, hurt,, even the way her rape is conveyed to us is through the red hot guilt of embarassment -> anger -> rage. idk,, i'm thinking about the neighbour at the door. abuse is presented in this absurdly /normal/ fashion (that one spread of aono studying as she beats teppei up) but it boils up into some other kind of tension with the issue of <making noise>,,, *that* is the transgression. the rain making ritual chops up bits of you & feeds you to the river, it places yuri into domestic life dream, it underlines this with ignorance: they keep having to /find out/ about structure, about the way it works and why, they need to get them off the mountain.

the wedding ritual confronts you with the bits that have been eaten up from people & their grief & messy rage.. its the cycle brought to completion here. the knowing is less about what's not found, it's about what's unspoken. yuri getting pregnant, aono killing himself, the abuse... all of this, to some extent, we knew... the clues were there, decipherable. but they're still brought to the forefront, they shake & rattle & scream & /make noise/ & that's terrifying.

and also ugh. especially the fact that all this, all these stories & meanings are conveyed through past ritual form.. you're trapped in it like fly in amber... you become just that signifier: the mother, the sister, these echoing ghosts of abuse bred in you, haunting even your rawest love. the boundary of ghostliness exists metaphorically here: both - you are your ancestors, you repeat your ancestors & are bound by them, by their blood & their mistakes & - deadness at least.. as thought of in memory.. a kind of evokation of this. death molds together the fragments of broken community into something truly inescapable, & at some point you only see your abusers at weddings & funerals, & yuri only ever knew aono through this shroud of mediation... this barrier informed by everything that came before...

[creatorping]

“What if the boys were moodulated”presented in 4 doodle pages!

credits to @flowery-laser-blasts for the og idea! check out her post

This is my take on how the scenes would go if Drakken and Ron are controlled by emotions. Generally, I think that both of their skills shine more when they have confidence and let it loose (especially Ron).

For example, Ron’s charisma will increase along with skills like crafting and being the Jack of all trades. Drakken will be able to create his inventions a lot faster due to heighten emotions. His decision making is stronger but may execute them recklessly.

In Love:

Ron has all the confidence that he rarely shows, and directs it at Kim, only her. Every move he makes to woo Kim chips away her barrier of resistance. Ron would continue to show the puppy love affection, including physical touch (hugs galore). Ron asks her to the parade festival, convincing her with flowers.

Drakken goes full The way of the Househusband mode: cooking, cleaning, and showering Shego with gifts and affection every chance he gets. Heck, he’ll even make new gadgets just to benefit Shego in any way. Shego is weirded out by his behavior but inwardly crumbles at his affections. However, she gets concerned when Drakken gradually loses his ambitions to take over the world, which she didn’t want him to lose that. Well maybe a bit more love time wouldn’t hurt as Drakken begs her to go with him to the parade as a date. (He gave her the pout and dinner)

At the Parade:

Shego of course agreed to the festival date for fun. After overhearing about the moodulator she wants to get it to break Drakken out of control and get back to evil ambitions OR perhaps control Drakken for herself and make things easier.

She decided to use the E.M.A on the moodulator (even tho she has no idea how it works but she’ll try it) after eavesdropping on Kim and the Inventor. But girlie doesn’t know shit about inventions so she accidentally charged the moodulator to extreme anger

Extremely angry Drakken… bites. ha r d.

yeah he wrecks havoc and she loves the power he shows but he lacks the direction he had in the first place. So Shego ultimately tries to shut him down from being a mindless zombie

Shego had to use her upmost ability to shut Drakken down and not destroy himself at the parade. So at the end, she puts a muzzle on him after dragging him out of the scene. Then perhaps an aggressive kiss sets Drakken on a sudden emotional overdrive that broke the chip, which set him free from the moodulator.

In my take of Kim trying to reject Ron is that she feels he’s been a bit off and not truly himself. Like she loves the affection but the sudden bursts of emotions during the whole time makes her suspicious. Therefore Kim tried rejecting Ron at the festival

but then right as Kim tried to tell Ron her suspicions, the moodulator changes and angry Ron misunderstands the rejection and yeah…

Kim found out about the moodulator… and internally was torn about whether or not Ron’s emphasized feelings were genuine.

Ron channels his anger on not being enough for Kim and explodes with monkey kung fu, wrecking havoc at the parade. (I noticed that Ron gets the powers when his emotions take over him)

And of course kim isn’t going to be a sitting duck so she gets back with her martial art skills. They had a battle similar to what Hiro and Kim had in the exchange ep. Lowkey Kim finds it attractive of him fighting like that.

The chip breaks after they come at a draw in the fight. Ron panicked after realizing what he did to Kim and frantically apologizes but Kim kept the conversation playful to cover up the awkward confrontations until SO THE DRAMA MOVIE

[milliondollarnooboo]

'This was not the plan. '

'This was not supposed to happen.'

'How could I let this happen?'

'It was supposed to be casual, quick. Get in and get out. I've done this so many times before, how could I screw up this time?'

'It's only my first couple of months here... I wasn't supposed to get pregnant.'

"What are we gonna do, Michael? I can't raise a child! I'm too young for this!" she wailed, looking tearfully at the sheepish father of her unborn child.

"Hey, hey-- everything's going to be okay. We'll figure it out when the baby comes." Michael placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

" Right now, you need to relax. Look, I'll clean your house for you before I leave, then you can get some rest. Sound good?"

He didn't wait for a confirmation before turning around and heading for the soiled toilet in Natasha's neglected bathroom.

She stared after him, fingers shaking as she guided a can of instant meal to her mouth. The sweet strawberry concoction tasted bitter and rough on her tongue.

She knew she needed to eat better for the baby. But she didn't want to think about all of that. She never wanted this.

In the bathroom, Michael struggled to suppress his nausea as he scrubbed the toilet. But it's not the stench that was making him feel ill.

Hadn't she said she was on birth control? How could this happen?

Would they have to get married now? He could hardly leave her and the baby by themselves. She would need support.

But right now, he honestly didn't know if he was willing to step up for that.

An hour later, the house was clean. Natasha lay asleep on the couch, dried tear stains and a slight frown on her sleeping face. She looked so tired.

A pang of guilt shot through Michael at the sight of her. Without a word he turned and walked out into the night.

--

The next couple of months flew by in a haze for Natasha. She couldn't tell whether it was Monday or Saturday. Noon or evening. All she knew was exhaustion.

Her bump grew bigger, and with it came a determination to eat better.

'I guess this kid knows better than I do.'

She saw less and less of Michael as she drew closer to her due date.

Natasha missed being outside. But the shame of her predicament and the perpetual state of exhaustion made it near-impossible to open the front door.

But on some nights, when the loneliness was unbearable, she would push through that invisible barrier and go out to hunt for bugs in her front lawn.

Fireflies always reminded her of the city lights. She found them comforting.

--

And then it was her due date.

Spending so much time alone, Natasha had made a little game of trying to predict when baby would come. As she sat at her dining table, she stared unseeingly at a scratch on the vinyl coating of the table.

'So, this is really happening. I am really about to be a mother.'

'What will my fans say... will they laugh at me?'

Distressed by the thought, Natasha spent the rest of the day on her bed, waiting.

At 9PM, baby Toby was born.

Thus began Natasha's new life.

--

And that's it for rotation 1 with the Moretti household. I'm ngl this story feels a bit choppy on some parts because I wasn't prepared to develop it. I was gonna be lazy and just slap the screenshots on the post and call it a day, but I'm trying to be as intentional as other simmers whose BACC content I have enjoyed because of their storytelling.

I apologise for the uncropped and unedited screenshots. I'm writing this at 3 in the morning because I forgot to sleep while putting together my BACC post. I was working on it all day yesterday.

More coming soon :)

| Intro | Rules | Next |

[kankuroplease]

I know you are a gaasaku fan (same! Such an internet dynamic and what cool political means between the leaf and sand it could bring) have you ever thought about what that might look like if Sakura moved to suna and they had a family?

I think about them every other night, anon. Every other night ✨

Honestly a lot of Sakura and Gaara ships cross my mind even if I don’t necessarily ship them (like sometimes it’s me just nodding in a agreement with fandom and other times I’m researching ships to see what I’m messing lol) like I ship GaaSaku because I love both characters so much

I apologize for any incoherent yapping 😅

Tw: mentions of pregnancy

Off the top of my head; Sakura never actually planned to stay in Suna, it just sort of happens

Because it’s serene, but also talking with Gaara about his past and the challenges of such a past made her realize she could bring her work to Suna too

It’s a slow burn deal with lots of teasing from Kanks towards Gaara about making a move before Pinks high tails it back to Konoha

Sakura is lowkey amused by his fan club because he is pretty cool, but he’s not the type to have wandering eyes

Gaara is a busy man but he makes sure to make time for Sakura when possible

And if it’s not entirely possible, he’s found writing her to little notes wishing her a good day or suggesting that she visit this or that shop (he already paid for her ice cream for a year, please go to that shop, Sakura), are greatly appreciated by her

Sometimes when they’re catching up with one another after a busy day/week, they’ll talk until they both fall asleep on the couch

Sakura was pleasantly surprised to see Gaara at her doorstep during her first sandstorm in Suna

He’d made a barrier around himself (and her front door) to come and check on her and was rewarded with a big hug

She was fine, but it was a little worrying considering this wasn’t anything she was use to

And when they eventually do become official, Kanks is confused because huh? Last he checked on them they were gardening and other boring things. But go, bro!

They had to stop Kankuro form making prank wedding invites

No one wants sand falling out onto their floor for a save the date

Their eventual wedding is kind of a big deal, because while it wasn’t a political to them, it still was to everyone else

Naruto’s speech would be tall no jutsu x10 but he’d also throw in that he can’t wait to see their kids. They better hop on that because everyone else is

which would make Sakura choke and shout for him to shut it and made Gaara blush bright red

They aren’t the type for PDA, mostly because Gaara is a kage

BUT he’s okay with kissing her hand as a farewell infront of others

he also finds excuses to include Sakura in as many meetings as possible

Sakura meanwhile lives a busy life bouncing between Suna and Konoha as a teacher of medical jutsus and head of Suna’s medical department

That is until she’s visiting Konoha and feeling a bit under the weather

Ino took on look at her turning up her face at the smell of ramen and she KNEW

“You’re pregnant!?”

“No!.. I mean, I don’t think—”

Girl had to do some mental math on when her last period was and realized she was in fact late by a few weeks

All that stress from work made it slip her mind entirely and mistake her clear symptoms

Gaara is of course excited about the news, but a small part of him is really worried that something could go wrong during the pregnancy

He’s not showing it, but he’s freaking out internally

So he turns into a mother hen and adds an aid to accompany Sakura when he could not personally do it himself

She put up with this aid for a few months, but after be asked how she’s feeling so they could write it in a report and being told she shouldn’t lift anything heavy for the hundredth time, she had to put her foot down

Baby was growing healthy, she was healthy, Gaara take a deep breath. They’re fine and she works at the hospital

if something were to happen, she’s in the best place possible to handle it

When their baby finally does arrive, gaara is in awe. She’s perfect.

a little mushed and alien looking, but perfect

Watermelon pink hair and grayish green eyes that he only got a quick glimpse of before she closed her eyes again

Her nails were unbelievably tiny on the small hand that cupped her own cheek

He could swear he saw the faintest eyebrow hairs. She had eyebrows! Maybe

Sakura teased that he was going to stare a hole in her if he wasn’t careful and Gaara had to smile

Anyone that tried to visit would catch the new family snuggled up on one bed

He would know that he would do everything to protect this little girl and her mother for the rest of his life

And a few years later, they’d welcome a son that has his father’s hair and the most stunning violet eyes

A short while after that they welcomed Shiki into their family

Their kids often bounce back and forth between their parents work places

Temari and Sakura take turns making play date plans with the kids

And when all four kids are together, kankuro swears they’re conspiring against him (they kinda are, but it’s in a loving-ish way)

They once packed a bunch of lizards into one of his puppets

There’s never a dull moment in the kazekage’s home or a moment without Sakura having to remind the kids to pick up all of their sand

Gaara feels loved and wanted

Sakura feels loved and appreciated

Overall a very cute and wholesome family 🌸⏳

[piromina]

WAIT A MINUTE

We all know Felix is a theatre kid....but have we ever thought of WHY he's a theatre kid?

What if–and hear me out on this one–what if Felix became a theatre kid because he had to? As in, there was a life-or-death situation, and the only way Felix could get out of it was by taking theatre?

Alright, so as we know, Felix is a sentimonster created by his dad.

And, as we know, Felix's dad was a bit....abusive.

And, as we know, Felix knows this too. With the amount of times Felix has had to obey his father, no matter how much he didn't want to, he knew something had to be up. After Colt kept calling him a "monster", over and over again, he realized he was a sentimonster. He just didn't know where the amok was. But after Colt cracked the ring, Felix figured everything out.

And Colt knew that Felix knew.

And Colt knew that Felix was probably going to tell someone about it. Someone like, possibly, the police. CPS. Both of those are options. And Colt didn't want to get into all of....that.

So he got his ring, and gave Felix an order.

"Don't tell anyone."

And, after that, Felix couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone that he was a sentimonster.

...But that was just it.

Colt Fathom has made a mistake. Because of his jealousy of Adrien, he wanted Felix to be even better. In everything. He had Felix go to school, and Felix graduated at, like, 13. Graduated.

But, Colt, if Felix graduated, that means that he is smart. Smart enough to find a way out of this predicament, out of this little ordeal you put him into. Maybe he can't call CPS on you, and maybe he can't tell anybody that he's a sentimonster.

....At least, not directly.

After this incident with the ring, and with all of the new knowledge Felix now has, he starts looking for loopholes in the commands. He starts finding ways to disobey.

If he can't tell anyone that he's a sentimonster, can he at least heavily imply it?

And so, Felix took theatre. He learned how to sing and dance.. He learned about sets and backdrops, and costumes, and he learned how to act like other people.

And all of his acting paid off in the episode Representation. Felix puts on a play, a good one, too. And it conveys everything it's supposed to. He can't tell Marinette he was created by the peacock miraculous. But he can show it.

He can't tell Marinette that he had an abusive father. But he can show it.

He can't tell Marinette that his amok is in the signet ring. But he can show it.

And, if you're wondering, "But...Felix has his amok now. Right? If he's wearing his ring, why doesn't he just give himself back the ability to tell someone?"

Well, that's because, by that time, he couldn't call CPS on his dad, if he's dead.

He couldn't tell Marinette anything directly, because she hates him. He knows that if he just goes up to her and tells her all of this, she might not believe him.

"But that still doesn't explain why Felix wouldn't just give himself free will to talk about it then. And how would Kagami have found out about it?"

Well, I have answers to both of those questions. Felix might not have known about the amok order. Maybe, Colt gives the order to him, but Felix doesn't know that it was an order. Maybe Felix did attempt calling the police, but he found that he couldn't say anything about his problem. Like there was some invisible force holding him back. And he didn't know what it was.

Maybe the amok orders stayed in place, even though Felix put on the ring. He had the power to take those magical barriers away, but he didn't really know they were there. And how could he take something away if he doesn't know that it exists?

And how did Kagami find out about the whole thing? Well, Felix must have given her the peacock brooch. He had her put it on, and sense the amoks that they were wearing. He had her see that both of them were sentimonsters.

"But why didn't Felix give the miraculous to Marinette, then?" Marinette is Ladybug. If Felix just handed over the brooch, she would take it and run, not even bothering to put it on.

So he had to put on the play to tell her.

It's a loophole.

[raconteur-wanpi]

ONE PIECE 1126

Finally found the time to talk about this one. I already talked a bit about a certain character in an earlier post, but here we go into the full thing.

OK, starting off with where we left with Yamato in the cover stories -yep, it seems people in Wano are getting kidnapped and/or going missing. Last chapter we saw Minamoto the carpenter has disappeared as well. Honestly, as for who is doing the kidnappings, there's actually plenty of candidates. I think most of, if not all of the Beast Pirates were dealt with, so we might be dealing with somebody else. IIRC, the Big Mom pirates seem to have returned to Tottoland without their mother (we see Smoothie back with her siblings watching Vegapunk's message in Egghead, and she was leading the ship). It could be Perospero if he's alive somehow, but I think it'd be an interesting twist if it turned out to be something like the wild giant boar that Oden slayed back in the day, thus giving Yamato the chance to fulfill his role as a parallel to him or something. Who knows! We still don't know Kaidou and Linlin's fates, so Wano is a location to keep an eye out on for sure.

Anyway, getting in the chapter, it's so nice to see more of the classic Strawhat party celebration! Seeing them all together chilling like this is always one of the best parts. My circle has already plastered my timeline with Usopp and Sanji being inseparable again, of course. My foils meta keeps being fulfilled, let's see if Usopp ends up returning his favor and his words to him if this arc ends up mirroring Enies Lobby.

Hey what if I cried. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I teared up like a child at this. They finally got to see the sky and the sun together, they got to sail together!!!!!!! Nobody talk to me, I think I will never recover after this page. God, if Kuma dies I'm going to be devastated. The theories around the number-named devil fruits going to the strawhats have destroyed me, and the Nikyu-Nikyu fruit being the last possible combination of numbers and the right shape for the tangerines is.... worrying me.

Bartooooo!!!! He is the GOAT of this chapter. He was already one of my absolute favorite One Piece characters, but this man's willingness to die on the spot for Luffy just cemented him even higher on the list. Thank god it was a fake-out! Everything's gonna be fine, right? Haha? Right?

Aaand there it is. Wow. OK. I cannot lie this caught me so off guard I am still reeling from it. This, is the part I made an earlier post about. Yasopp, of his own accord, after Shanks decided to spare the Barto Club and even seemed to be charmed by them, chose to shot them down. Shanks clearly didn't give the order, and it seems Yasopp might have been going for the kill, too. Perhaps he was just trying to destroy the ship, but seeing that explosion... Not to mention the narrator says after this "it is unknown if there were any survivors". This is such a merciless act from him. And for me, the reading I have of it is that it's setup by Oda for us to start feeling (even more) conflicted about his character, and this is going to be relevant going forward in Elbaf as an Usopp arc. This is a reminder of how different he is from him, he brutally shot down the Barto Club knowing well they are his son's allies and friends, with no remorse. Usopp has shown mercy and compassion most of any strawhat, I think he would be mortified by this. I wonder if this begins the setup of Usopp realizing he has put his father on a pedestal, and the idealized image of him in his head doesn't reflect reality. A lot of people didn't like Yasopp already, but this is going to put him on a looooot of fans' shitlist. Anyway, if Barto is dead I am going to jump into the ocean. Fingers crossed harder than his when he puts up his barriers.

Going back to the Blackbeard pirates; Garp's alive!!!! It seems that Kuzan couldn't take his life after all. He says "he survived", but in my eyes, he definitely chose to spare him, perhaps even unconsciously.

PUDDING CAMEO!!!!!!! MY SPECIALEST GIRLIE IN THE WORLD!!! Oh my god I'm glad she's still OK. Pudding get him. Bite him. Scratch him, do something, get his ass. Stay away from her get a joooooob. Jokes aside, I am curious about what the Big Mom pirates are planing; between their mother being Put In the Soup in Wano (status unknown), their eldest brother being well... status unknown, and Pudding getting kidnapped, they have too much going on on their plate, and I do wonder which thing they are trying to deal with first. I am not jealous of the mess poor Katakuri has to deal with right now, assuming he has been put in charge at the moment. I like to imagine he is definitely planning for ways to get Pudding back; his siblings are the most important thing in the world to him, after all.

Sigh. Caribou is still here too. For some reason. Like some sort of cockroach that just won't croak. The information he has on not one, but two ancient weapons is very concerning, and the fact he is about to deliver it to Teach of all people is definitely gonna be a big, terrifying development.

This isn't plot or anything but please look at this image of tiny Bonney holding on to Jinbe's robes. Her collection of big dads grows ever steady. That is all.

And here is our conclusion! The group of strawhats that was on the Sunny has disappeared together with it, while the rest of the crew and the giants where knocked out from the booze. They wake up looking for them and the Sunny all baffled. It seems Jinbe, Robin and Franky are the only strawhats left with the giants, although I saw some people say Brook might be with them as well. Nami, who was with those missing, wakes up in Elbaf-style garb already, inside some sort of toy-lego-house... I wonder if this means our missing strawhats have been kidnapped by another group of giants!? A toy-like dollhouse is where you'd put a tiny person in, isn't it? Dorry and Broggy and their crew said that Elbaf is still days away, even with their ship's speed, so could someone from there have somehow hijacked them in the middle of the journey? Could it be Loki himself? I guess we have to wait to find out!