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hiitsm · 5 months ago

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Beneath the Surface: The Fourth Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt, Fluff & Smut is included in this Fourth Piece.

Other parts of Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

As Alexia walks out of the airport, a wave of weariness washes over her. The Nike shooting in Paris had been enjoyable, but the long hours of travel for just a brief two-hour shoot, followed by hurried rest at the hotel, left her feeling drained.

Yet amidst the fatigue, her mind couldn't help but dwell on you.

You are her constant thought.

You are her deepest desire.

You are all she truly needs.

However, you are also the one that she has hurt deeply.

As Alexia reached for her suitcase, a tired sigh escaped her lips, but before she could dwell on her thoughts, a message from her sister Alba popped up. Alba was asking her to come over quickly because she had a date and was in need of outfit advice. Despite her exhaustion, Alexia couldn't resist the opportunity to help her sister and perhaps enjoy some bonding time over this special evening she imagined Alba would have.

Standing in front of her sister's door, Alexia took a moment to gather herself. She knew Alba preferred a warning before she entered, so she opted to knock despite having a key. With a deep breath, she summoned a smile and tapped gently on the door.

Within moments, the door swung open, but instead of the worried expression Alexia had anticipated due to outfit stress, Alba greeted her with a mix of quiet irritation and underlying anger, a perplexing combination that Alexia couldn't quite decipher on her sister.

"Come in, tat," Alba said tersely, bypassing the usual hug that signaled something was amiss. Alexia followed her sister into the living room, feeling a sense of unease settle in as she tried to read the unfamiliar look on Alba's face.

As Alexia stepped into Alba's immaculately clean apartment, she couldn't help but feel surprised. Not a single piece of clothing lay on the ground, contrary to what she had expected. "Aren't you stressed about your date?" Alexia asked, concerned for her younger sister's unusually tense demeanor. Alba responded with a deep, irritated sigh.

"¿Qué pasa? ¿Por qué no estás feliz de verme?" Alexia asked quietly, her voice tinged with insecurity. It was unusual for Alba to become irritated so quickly, and Alexia couldn't help but wonder if she had inadvertently done something to upset her sister.

Alexia's thoughts were usually consumed by you.

By your presence.

By your feelings.

By your hurt.

But in this moment, all thoughts of you were absent.

She didn't ponder the lies she had told her mother and sister about the state of her relationship with you, nor did she dwell on the possibility that they might now know the truth.

That she had caused you pain.

It was a strange and unsettling realization that in this crucial moment, she wasn't thinking about you at all. A realization she couldn't afford not to have, especially now when it seemed most critical.

"Pensé en emparejar a mi hermana y mentir sobre ciertas cosas también," Alba scoffed, rolling her eyes at her sister. With each passing second, Alexia felt her irritation growing.

"What do you mean, lie?" she asked, her voice rising slightly in volume.

"Our mami called me last night, absolutely distressed, saying you lied about your relationship status and that y/n is really hurting," Alba shouted, unable to contain her emotions any longer.

Alexia felt a sinking feeling in her chest as her sister's words hit home. "This has been going on for weeks, maybe even months. ¿Alguna vez planeaste ser honesto con nosotros?" Alba's voice softened, filled now with hurt rather than anger.

"Do you realize how foolish I must have looked? I've been texting y/n about you, about us, about our family," Alba lectured her sister, her tone filled with a mix of frustration and concern.

"She kept responding so kindly, but I can only imagine how much she must have been hurting. Our mami still has pictures of the two of you up on her walls. When y/n needed a place to stay, she saw all those reminders. Can you imagine how that must have made her feel?"

As Alexia listened to her sister's words, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her own actions pressing down on her. She knew deep down that Alba was right, and that she deserved this lecture.

"And the most foolish thing is that you don't care. You don't care that those pictures are still up on the wall," Alba's words cut deep into Alexia's heart. It hurt her immensely because she did care.

She cared deeply about those pictures on her mother's wall.

She cared about you.

She cares about you a lot.

All she ever wanted was to make things right, never intending to hurt you so profoundly.

But now, faced with the consequences of her actions, she felt lost and overwhelmed, unsure of how to make amends.

"No, me importa. Realmente lo hago," Alexia confessed, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she struggled to articulate her feelings. "I know I've been foolish," she admitted, her voice breaking completely. "I want to make it right," she gasped for air, overwhelmed with emotion. Alba, understanding her sister's pain, drew her close into a comforting embrace.

"Quiero hacerlo bien pero no sé cómo," Alexia murmured against her sister's shoulder, her voice muffled by tears.

"You need to start by being honest. Honest with us, but most importantly, honest with yourself," Alba spoke gently yet firmly, her words carrying the weight of disappointment and concern.

"The Putellas don't break someone's heart by writing a letter and disappearing without any explanation, by ghosting someone completely from their life," Alba's voice held a firm but caring tone, emphasizing her deep concern.

"I don't know how you can make this right, but I do know that y/n is still hurting a lot." Her words carried a weight of sadness and empathy, expressing the gravity of the situation.

"Pero te ayudaré a intentarlo," Alba added softly with a gentle sigh, offering her sister a glimmer of hope and support amidst the difficult conversation.

"Quiero intentarlo," Alexia said with determination in her voice.

"¡Bebita!" you hear softly at first, then more urgently. "¡Bebita, wake up!" The voice grows louder, accompanied by a gentle hand caressing your cheek. Reluctant to leave the comfort of your dream, you resist waking up, but eventually, your eyes flutter open.

You see your girlfriend leaning over you, her damp hair cascading slightly to one side after her post-training shower. The bed dips as she settles next to you, and a soft smile plays on her lips. "You're awake," she murmurs, her tone affectionate.

You stretch lightly before shifting your weight onto her lap, finding a comfortable position despite the awkwardness. "Hmm, someone's a little clingy," she teases, her voice tender.

"What time is it?" you ask in your raspy morning voice, a sound that she finds irresistibly attractive.

"It's a bit after 9 am," she replies, meeting your gaze with warmth in her eyes.

"How early was your training?" confusion lingers in your expression, prompting a chuckle from her.

"It was just a quick gym session by myself, bebita. I don't have team training today," she answers softly, knowing you'll appreciate the reassurance.

She lightly stroked your bare back, grounding you in the moment with a sensation that mirrored the dream you'd just left. Your cheeks flushed red with a hint of embarrassment, and you awkwardly shifted out of her embrace, pulling the covers up to your neck. Alexia looked up, concern flickering across her features.

"Are you cold, mi vida? Should I turn up the heating?" She moved towards the heater, ready to adjust it, but you quickly reassured her with a strange smile. "No, it's okay," you murmured.

"Okay, what's going on?" Her voice was gentle yet knowing. She crossed her arms, her eyebrow arching teasingly, a look that usually prompted you to spill everything. But today, you resisted, trying your best to compose yourself.

"Please, can you make me a coffee? I'll be there in a second," you said, your voice tinged with insecurity.

"Fine..." she acquiesced with a hint of mischief, darting away momentarily only to return to the bed in a flash, faster than your groggy state could anticipate. "But you're coming with me, amor," she declared, grinning mischievously as she wrested the covers from your grasp and swept them off the bed.

You lay there, uncertain of what to do next, feeling exposed under her appreciative gaze as she scanned your nearly naked body, your boxers clinging to your skin. Her eyes widened as they settled on the wet spot between your legs. Flustered, you instinctively covered yourself with your hand, cheeks burning crimson.

"Please, just leave," you pleaded softly, feeling vulnerable and overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion into your intimate moment.

"Did you..." Alexia began, unsure of how to react to the situation unfolding before her.

"It was just a dream with you in it, I promise," you responded quickly, attempting to reassure her.

Alexia felt a surge of arousal at the thought that you had a wet dream about her. Yet, seeing you shielding yourself from her view made her pause. You looked as though you didn't feel safe with her in that vulnerable moment. She knew about your past relationship, how toxic it had been with your previous partner. All she wanted now was to reassure you that everything was okay, that it was completely normal.

"It's okay," Alexia said softly, moving closer to you with a gentle touch. "It's completely normal, mi amor. You don't have to feel embarrassed with me. I'm here for you, and I want you to feel safe." She spoke with sincerity, hoping her words would offer you the comfort and reassurance you needed in that moment of vulnerability.

"You do believe me, right?" you asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

"I trust you, and I will always believe you, mi vida," Alexia reassured you with a soft smile, her touch bringing a sense of calmness back to you.

"Is it weird that I want you now?" you blurted out, cheeks flushing once more as the realization hit you.

Alexia gently cupped your cheeks in her hands. "No, that will never be weird. I want you now just as much as you want me," she said reassuringly before leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. Her touch and words filled you with warmth and a deep sense of acceptance, melting away any remaining insecurity or doubt.

The two of you lost yourselves in each other's kisses, the intimacy deepening with each tender touch. Alexia's body weight shifted slightly onto yours, her hands gently caressing your breasts, eliciting soft moans from you in response. Your hips instinctively lifted, seeking more friction, but Alexia was still partially seated on the bed, leaving you wanting.

The air was thick with desire and the sweet tension of longing as you both savored the closeness and the gentle exploration of each other's bodies.

Alexia grinned slightly as she pulled away, her finger trailing lightly over your body until it stopped at the wet patch on your boxers. "I love that view, amor," she murmured, her voice filled with appreciation for the slick contrast.

You looked at her and couldn't help but notice the desire in her eyes, which only heightened your own arousal. "Are you as turned on as me?" you asked, biting your lower lip suggestively.

Understanding your hint, Alexia teasingly pulled off her clothes, leaving on her Brazilian string. "Do you see that, mi vida?" she said cheekily, gesturing to herself.

You nodded eagerly, taking in the enticing sight. Unable to resist, your hand grazed over her underwear, feeling the slick fabric that mirrored your own arousal.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you in the gym," she whispered huskily into your ear, nibbling softly on your earlobe.

And then she was lying flush against your body, her weight pressing down gently as your legs spread instinctively. She began to grind against your core, the sensation of the barely-there fabric intensifying the pleasure for both of you.

You both knew that it wouldn't take long to reach that edge, to tip over into ecstasy together. The air was filled with anticipation and desire, each movement bringing you closer to the blissful release you both craved.

"Y/n..?" you heard from a distance. "Y/n..!" someone shook you gently, pulling you out of your reverie.

Blinking, you refocused on your colleague who looked at you with irritation. "God, where were you just now?" she sighed impatiently. "Please, keep it together and help us clear these tables."

You immediately snapped into action, feeling slightly embarrassed that you couldn't shake off the memory that had consumed your thoughts all day.

From waking up in the morning to commuting to work, and now at work itself, your mind had been fixated on that moment.

The moment when you had felt so safe and cherished with her.

With your girlfriend.

With your ex-girlfriend.

With Alexia.

For weeks after receiving that heartbreaking letter, your thoughts were consumed by her. You wrestled with the pain she caused, yet also cherished the memories of the beautiful moments you shared together.

You believed that confiding in Eli would bring you closure, but now you realize that closure remains elusive without understanding why Alexia chose to walk away.

Reflecting on it all, you find yourself caught between the bittersweet nostalgia of what was and the lingering ache of unanswered questions. Despite the passage of time, her absence still casts a shadow over your heart, leaving you yearning for clarity that seems just out of reach.

And then, to add to the confusion, someone walked in.

She bore a striking resemblance to your ex-girlfriend. Your heart skipped a beat, but you dared not raise your hopes any higher.

Yet, there she stood, your ex-girlfriend, looking unsure of herself, hands tucked nervously into her pockets.

She appeared smaller somehow, vulnerable.

At that moment, you realized you didn't want the answers anymore.

Confronting her seemed too painful now, her presence stirring up emotions you had tried to bury.

But despite your inner turmoil, your feet carried you towards her.

Your body ached for her, and if you were honest with yourself, so did your mind.

As you approached, uncertainty hung heavy in the air. The sight of her brought a flood of memories, both joy and heartache, that you weren't sure you were ready to face again.

"...Hi," she struggled to get the words out, her voice trembling with uncertainty. But you remained silent, unable to muster a response. You could only gaze at her with wide, conflicted eyes that held a mix of confusion and hurt.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to talk," she continued, her insecurity palpable, tugging at your heartstrings. You knew you would always have a soft spot for her.

"Not here, obviously," she hurriedly added, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment at her awkward statement. "But I knew you would be here sometime this week."

"It's okay," you managed to say, surprising yourself with the ease of your acceptance. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I mean, I would like to," you added, your voice tinged with hope as you sought answers.

"Tonight at my place, 8 pm?" you asked tentatively, your gaze searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

"Si, I'll see you there," she replied determinedly, a hint of relief evident in her voice.

"Okay," you said softly, the weight of the moment sinking in.

"Okay," she echoed, standing awkwardly before finally saying, "Okay, see you tonight," and turning to leave, her awkwardness making you chuckle softly.

As she walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and trepidation about what the evening would bring, hoping it would bring clarity and closure to the lingering questions in your heart.

As you made your way towards the dishes area of your workplace, preparing to immerse yourself in work once more, a subtle but unmistakable feeling washed over you.

It was as if the fourth broken piece of your heart lay right before you, waiting to be picked up and nurtured once again.

The weight of past memories and unresolved emotions lingered in the air, mingling with a sense of tentative hope for closure and healing.

Each step forward felt like a small leap towards reclaiming a part of yourself that had been left wounded and unattended for too long.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the tasks ahead, knowing that tonight's meeting held the potential to mend what had been fractured and bring solace to a heart that had carried its pain for far too long.

Note: it took a bit longer than expected, but I hope you're still enjoying this series. There's more to come, and I'm looking forward to continuing the journey with you all.

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso smut #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine

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ceoofyearning · 5 months ago

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All I Want - Cassian

Pairing: Cassian x Bestfriend! Reader Summary: When Nesta Archeron dropped into Cassian’s life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since. Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. Rating & Warnings: T/M | Hurt & Comfort, angst to fluff, PAST Nessian, recreational mirthroot use, alcohol, suggestive but nothing explicit (lmk if i miss anything else) Word Count: 4.4k Links: Masterlist

A part of you had always craved to see the rest of the world, and when you got the chance to work in the Day Court three decades ago, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. With how things were, it seemed like the perfect excuse to leave. After all, it’s not as if you had a reason to stay. The mating bond between snapping Nesta and Cassian had made sure of that.

In many ways, leaving felt like the easier choice - to shed your past and start anew in a court where no one knew you - a clean slate. Mother knows you needed one.

Your work for Helion involves acquiring ancient texts and artifacts for the One Thousand Libraries of Day. It required you to travel all over Phythian, even as far as the continent to procure these items yourself. You adore your job and enjoy the freedom it affords you, but when you were given the opportunity to go back to Velaris to manage the satellite division connected to the Great Library, a part of you had been reluctant to agree. Coming back meant facing your past. And that, more than anything, was terrifying.

It has been a few weeks since your return to the City of Stars. Although you didn’t have much time outside of work, you do try to maintain a semblance of a social life. Mor made sure of that. When you first met her a few centuries ago, Mor had taken one look at you, a broken, wingless half-Ilyrian female, and decided that the two of you must become friends. Perhaps she saw a piece of herself in you, in your defiance against a world that was out to get you.

You had been close friends with Mor in the past, and the moment she heard you were back in town, she reached out to reconnect. You appreciated it immensely, of course. Going back and having to build a life for yourself in Velaris after all these years of being gone seems less daunting with a friend by your side. So when Mor asks you to go out, you try to go whenever you can afford to, desperate to grasp at chances to belong, despite yourself. Tonight, Mor practically dragged you out of your apartment for drinks and to briefly attend a ball in the Moonstone Palace.

“I don’t understand why Emerie is allowed to pass,” you grumble morosely as you peer up the warmly-lit exterior of Rita’s.

“Because Em hasn’t been hiding out in the library for the past week,” Mor counters blithely.

“I was busy,” you retort in vain, knowing full well that all resistance is futile.

“You’re always busy,” Mor retorts, throwing an arm around your neck. Your friend is clad in her usual skin-tight red dress, exuding self-confidence with each step she takes. You shoot her a look of sheer betrayal, and she laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “It’s for your own good. You deserve to have fun too, you know?” Mor says with exaggerated gravity, which has you rolling your eyes.

You sigh, and pad after her, knowing there is no use trying to argue now that she has already dragged you here. You practically trip over yourself on your borrowed heels, as you try to adjust the straps of the dress Mor had squeezed you into. It’s a resplendent satin dress with a terrifyingly low neckline and an even terrifyingly high slit up your left thigh. To her credit, however, the black dress fits you like a glove, a testament to Mor’s eye for fashion. With much effort, you banish the thoughts of all your responsibilities and deadlines to the void. Fine, you’ll try to have fun tonight, at least.

You would've been happy enough with a simple dinner, maybe even some wine, but of course, Mor idea of fun rarely coincides with yours. The initial plan is to have just a few drinks at a nice, quiet bar - catch up a bit, and have a good laugh. But as the night progressed, Mor had piled you with more and more alcohol, and you became more amenable to going along with her unhinged plans.

It starts with you moving to another bar, then another, until you finally find yourselves right in the middle of the overcrowded dance floor in the Moonstone Palace. To call this gathering a ball would be far too generous. Sometime in the night, the party had devolved to the very picture of debauchery. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and bad decisions. It’s a good thing you were drunk enough to not mind the overwhelming press of bodies against you. You could even admit that there’s some comfort to be had in being just another face lost in the crowd - free to enjoy the music, to simply be. The beat seems to reverberate throughout the whole room, through your bones, pulling you and everyone else into movement, like a collective heartbeat. Amidst the sea of nameless, gyrating bodies, that’s where you catch a glimpse of him - a slip of darkness, flickering in and out of view as the kaleidoscope of colors shifts overhead.

Cassian.

Your attention doesn’t go unnoticed for long. His hazel eyes catch yours, and for a moment, the world stops existing. There is only you, and him and the weight of all the love, heartache and desolation between you. A blink, and reality returns to its normal unrelenting pace.

His muscled frame is evident even from a distance, the outline of his strong shoulders and defined arms visible beneath the blank long-sleeved shirt he wore. Intricate tattoos peek through the opened buttons of his shirt, their dark lines running from his neck, chest, down to his forearms.

You knew Cassian back when you still lived in the Night Court, fancied yourself in love with his charming smile and penchant for mischief. More than anything, you admired him for his kindness. He had been the one to help you escape the camps, even helped set you up here in Velaris. As a half-Ilyrian female with no wings or any significant Ilyrian power, you don’t doubt that staying would have been a death sentence. Or worse.

Afterward, the two of you had spent the better part of the last two centuries circling one another. You didn’t know the name of what you had with Cassian, but the two of you had preferred it that way, not wanting to risk your friendship. You never had the courage to ask for more, not even when you desperately wanted to. But when Nesta Archeron had dropped into his life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since.

Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him.

You heard from the grapevine that, seven years ago, after a failed explosive engagement and years of falling in and out of each other's beds, he and Nesta had finally called it quits. The eldest Archeron sister, Lady Death, had moved to the ruins of Dusk to seek her own destiny, to carve the story of her glory onto the earth. Cassian, on the other hand, had decided to remain here in the Night Court.

A glint of recognition burns in his hazel eyes. For you, Cassian had always been the one that got away. Despite yourself, you find comfort in the thought that it might not have been easy for him to forget you, too.

You can feel your heart beat violently against your chest, threatening to break free from your ribcage. You can’t tell whether it's from anticipation, or a deep-rooted instinct that this? This is very dangerous territory, not unlike walking back into a battlefield you just managed to escape. Regardless of your better judgment, a smile makes its way to your lips, because, in the end, you’re happy to see him.

And Cassian smiles back.

Throughout the night, you watch Cassian from the corner of your eye, and you feel his gaze on you in return. Sometime in the evening, you lose Mor in the crowd, covertly swept away by a gorgeous Ilyrian female in black. You, in turn, are left precariously perched on a stool, nursing a glass of water. You swallow your disappointment while contemplating the logistics of winnowing home whilst being utterly tipsy, and conclude that you’re more likely to be spliced across time and space than to reach your destination.

Instead, you give yourself a few minutes to loiter by one of the palace’s expansive balconies, trying to get sober enough to depart. You’ve lost your shoal sometime during the party, but the crisp night air feels great against your heated skin, helping clear your mind. You recline against the chaise, before crossing your ankles and shutting your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the muted music and the blessed solitude.

Your peace doesn’t last long, however. You hear a familiar set of footsteps approach, followed by the telltale groan of the chaise beside you.

“You’re back,” he sounds breathless, disbelieving as though he hasn’t quite figured out if he’s dreaming. You’d know the calming cadence of his voice anywhere, in the dreaming, even in death.

“Cassian,” you sigh, just as breathless, just as dismantled by his presence. Finally, your eyes flutter open to peer up at him. You swallow the lump in your throat, and he watches the movement, transfixed.

You drink in the sight of him like you’re lost in a desert, and he’s the only oasis to be found. His long, wavy locks of midnight-black hair cascade over his shoulders, half pulled back into a disheveled bun behind his head. Loose curls frame his rugged features. He looks sharper, hewn from the toughest steel, but there was a familiar warmth in those hazel eyes.

“I thought I saw you,” he smiles, and your mind nearly implodes at the sight of the dimple on his right cheek. Memories flash, and you remember languid afternoons spent pressing kisses over the same dimple, your nose buried in his neck, your hands tracing shapes over his chest. The moment his hand lands on your knee, however, you snap out of it.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you notify him pointedly because you are done giving pieces of yourself to this man, no matter how charming he can be, not without anything tangible in return.

He raises his hands over his head, as if in surrender, all the while giving you a crooked grin, “Hey, my intentions are pure, Sunshine. I just wanted to catch up.”

And that statement would have been perfectly fine, you think, if he hadn’t just called you that. Sunshine. God, how you used to love every time he said it, how your heart soared every time he spoke those two syllables. It made you feel special, seen. Now, all it leaves is the scent of smoke in your lungs and the taste of devastation in your tongue

“Cassian, Please,” and you hope to The Mother you sound casual, light, sarcastic even; and not like you’re about to swallow your own damn tongue. “Your intentions are as perpetually black as Azriel’s shadows.”

“I resent that,” he huffs petulantly. “I’m perfectly capable of having a chaste conversation.”

“Right.” You laugh, a real one this time, and Cassian holds his chest in feigned offense. “I just got back, and the first thing you do is lie to me? For shame, Cassian, for shame,” you tease, and a lovely shade of pink invades his cheeks, much to his chagrin.

As you settle further into the cushions, you ask, "What have you been up to? Those Illyrian Warlords still giving you trouble?"

Cassian leans back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I hardly involve myself in the military anymore," he admits, his tone tinged with an equal measure of relief and exhaustion. "I'm tired of the battlefields, the bloodshed. I’ve seen enough of it for several lifetimes. I want to build, not to destroy; to something new, something greater than myself."

And that’s when you see it - the weariness from the weight of all that violence, from the stains those lost lives have left on his hands. They may have called him the Lord of Bloodshed, and he may have been good at it even, Cassian - at his core - has always had a kind and tender heart. You don’t blame him for wanting to leave that life.

You nod in understanding. “What are you going to do?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

A spark lights up in his eyes, and his smile returns, softer this time. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he confesses. “But I want it to be something that helps people, that brings more good into the world. The Valkyries were a great start, but I want to build a place for people like us, my mother, the outcasts - a safe place for all the females, the children and the bastards brutalized by this world. I want to give them a chance for a kinder life.”

Your chest aches, and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. “That sounds wonderful, Cassian.”

He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

He studies you for another long moment, hazel eyes taking you in like he’s seeing you for the first time, as if you held the answer to a question he’s spent a long, long time asking himself. His gaze softens.

As the evening stretches on, you and Cassian talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly like the constant ebb and flow of the Sidra. Despite what happened in the past, this thing between you two feels natural, almost as if no time has passed. Sitting there with him, you realize how much you've missed this, missed him. Cassian had been your savior, your family, and your closest friend before everything went wrong, and perhaps, that’s the one thing you mourned the most: his presence in your life, regardless of who he was to you. Reconnecting with him now felt like being ripped apart and remade all in one breath.

Then, he pulls out a pipe from his pocket, and promptly sticks it in between his teeth. You watch, half mesmerized by the way he lights it before taking a slow, steady drag. He breathes it in with practiced ease, before releasing a truly remarkable cloud of smoke. He must’ve noticed you staring because he looks at you and wordlessly offers you a puff. “Remember this?”

You eye him dubiously, “How could I forget.” It’s the same gem-encrusted pipe you had given him as a joke all those years ago, knowing how much he hated unnecessary finery. He had stared at it in horror when you first presented it to him years ago. That he kept it surprised you.

Memories of the two of you locked in his room come into mind. Your lips on his, bodies entwined as a bowl of mirthroot burns at the bedside table.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t do mirthroot anymore?” He asks, his grin growing wider. “What is it? Forgotten to have fun?”

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you retort instead, “I haven’t.”

“Prove it then,” he challenges, as he taps off some of the ash that has accumulated in the mouth of the pipe.

You shouldn’t, really. But it’s been a shitty night, and an even shittier month. Mor was right. You’ve been running yourself ragged. And, in truth, you just needed a night where you could forget the rest of your life, even if it’s only temporary

“Well,” you say as you take the pipe from him, “If anyone needs a bit more mirth in their life, it would be me.”

Cassian chuckles, “And me.” The two of you mime clinking glasses as a show of commiseration, before bursting into raucous laughter.

You toy with the pipe for a few seconds, turning it over your fingers. It may have seemed like reluctance, but in reality, you were trying to remember the last time you allowed yourself to relax. You realize that it has been a very long while. With one deep breath, the earthy smoke fills your lungs, and you let it linger before you breathe it out. Not without being hit by a coughing fit though, much to Cassian’s amusement.

“Don’t,” you warn him.

And of course, he doesn’t heed you, and instead says, “You’re adorable.”

Before you can say anything else, he takes the pipe and squeezes himself beside you onto the scant space left on the chaise. You let him. It is as though the two of you can’t help but gravitate towards each other, twin stars pulled together by the same cosmic force; even after everything, even after years of silence, of insurmountable distance.

The chaise makes an impressive effort to hold the both of you, and it takes some truly impressive maneuvering for the two of you to fit. He’s turned towards you while you lay half-sprawled across his chest, your leg thrown over his thighs to lock around his calf. His wing curls over you, encasing you within his warmth. Your hand is over his chest, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart echoing your own. It's comforting to know that, even after all that has happened, the two of you still fit together like long-lost pieces of a single puzzle.

“Here, let me,” he takes another hit, easily inhaling and exhaling the silvery smoke as if that alone is enough instruction. He hands it to you once more.

You give him a withering look, but take it from him anyway. Once more you try your best to take the smoke in, but it elicits another coughing fit when you breathe it out.

“Mother’s tits,” you mutter between coughs. Meanwhile, Cassian looks far too delighted at watching your miserable attempts to get high.

“Do you want me to help?” he cryptically proposes with a hopeful look on his face, and you see the question for what it is. “You can say no anytime,” he assures you.

In lieu of an answer, you inch closer, your face angled to fit with his, and you wonder if this is how a sunflower feels when it turns to face the sun. He only gives you one of his unfairly dashing smiles, before he takes another long drag. But this time, he keeps it in, as he cups your face and presses his thumb down your lower lip to coax your mouth open for him.

“Like this,” he whispers, his lips a mere centimeter away from yours. You’re practically vibrating with want, counting the infinities between seconds before you can taste his lips again. The smoke escapes his lips in languid swirls as you pull him down by the nape into a kiss.

Cassian smiles against your lips.

The world is gradually shifting around you, like tectonic plates converging to recreate the world anew. The both of you shudder at the contact. This isn’t a cataclysm, not a world-ending explosion, but a realization, an answer to an overdrawn question. Cassian kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world to spare. It’s a languid back and forth of shared breaths and the seamless glide of his chapped lips on yours.

The feel of him is familiar and foreign all at once. The taste of rum lingers on his tongue as he licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that comes out of you unbidden. You don’t know how long you stay in that hazy bliss, reacquainting yourselves with each other, just breathing the other in.

But when he pulls away, he tugs on your bottom lip as if to make a final point. And what a totally valid point it is. You are convinced - so convinced, in fact, that you decide you aren’t going to smack him over the head for ruining you completely. The smug smirk on his face, by all means, would normally piss you off, but you find yourself smiling back instead.

“Was that better?” He inquires, batting his doe eyes at you innocently like he hadn’t just obliterated all rational thought in your head with his touch alone.

“I can’t tell…” you trail off in feigned consideration. “I think you’ll have to do it again, just to be sure.”

His nose scrunches in the most adorable way as he scoffs. Nonetheless, he humors you, lifting the pipe to his lips and inhaling another long drag.

“This is purely for science,” you inform him, running your thumb tenderly over his cheekbone.

He nods in mock seriousness, before adding, “An experiment of sorts.”

“Exactly,” you agree, as you tug on the curls on the back of his head to pull him down for another kiss.

Cassian offers to fly you home, and you accept despite the both of you knowing that you’re perfectly capable and sober enough to winnow back on your own. Cassian scoops you up in the cradle of his strong arms, and you can’t help but let out a small gasp as the massive shadow of his wings unfurl. With a few beats, you’re in the air, soaring high above the mountainside. You barely have the presence of mind to erect the barrier for the two of you to keep the cold at bay.

The flight to your apartment takes longer than it should because Cassian can’t keep his damn hands to himself long enough to take seven consecutive wingbeats. You indulge him, of course. With your arms around his neck, his lips find yours time and time again. Below, Velaris is a spread of starlight, like a reflection of the night sky overhead. You’ve got no viable defense for your actions, only that you missed him immensely, and deep in your soul, you know you still want him. You’re afraid that you always will.

But as you arrive at your apartment, the both of you walk up to the door. Cassian tells you he’ll see you tomorrow and moves to leave you with one final peck on the lips, but you maintain your firm grip on his collar.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, your brows scrunched and your mouth agape.

He chuckles at your confusion, his lips once again to that signature crooked grin you adore far too much.

“Oh? Did you want me to stay?” he asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a painfully gentle touch.

You huff out an exasperated breath, giving him a pointed look. “Cassian, if I didn't, you wouldn't even be here,” you retort, trying to mask the warmth his gesture ignited.

“Why?” He presses further. “What did you have in mind, pretty girl?”

That truth is this: you don’t think you could bear parting with him again, not when you just got him back. You don’t think that losing Cassian is something your heart can survive twice.

His hand makes a slow descent from the back of your head, to your cheekbone, then to your jaw before gently tipping your face up to meet his gaze. A shiver runs down your spin at the intensity of his gaze.

Cassian languidly leads you against the wall, pressing his body against yours. You can feel the evidence of his want against you, while he begins to leave butterfly kisses on your neck.

“Hmm?” He urges again, in between kisses. “C’mon, tell me.” Then, he tugs on your lobe lightly, before whispering against your ear, “Tell me all the lovely thoughts running through your pretty little head.”

A shuddering breath leaves your lips in response, your body reflexively arching into him. He slots his muscled thigh in between your legs while keeping a firm grip on your hips. Cassian, it seems, is as intent on keeping you as you are him.

“Cassian,” you plead, “stay.” Your chest feels like a supernova on the verge of extinction. Fear and longing grip you in a hurricane of emotion, threatening to swallow you whole.

For a while, Cassian just watches you, completely laid bare for him, his to keep or his to break.

“Cassian,” you repeat, the desperation in your tone palpable.

He raises his hands in mock surrender once more, reminiscent of earlier that night, before saying, “Say please.”

“I hate you,” you retort, but your body tells a different story. Without your approval, you realize your hands have slipped under his shirt, reflexively exploring the familiar terrain of his skin, while your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck.

Cassian sighs, melting beneath your touch, his playfulness giving way to a look of pure adoration. With an expression that leaves no room for doubt, he whispers, “Liar.”

“Guilty,” you confess.

He matches it with a confession of his own, “I love you.” Cassian's gaze is unbearably soft, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His voice is raw with sheer sincerity. "I've never forgotten you, never stopped thinking about you."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, the world pauses, forgets what it is to breathe. You search his face, seeing the truth reflected in forest eyes. A mixture of relief and joy washes over you, like a stream of cool water over scalded skin. Every moment you’ve shared, every glance, every touch, each joy and regret - has led to this moment.

You lean in closer, your forehead resting against his. "I love you too, Cassian,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I never stopped.” At that moment, you’re certain that The Cauldron had made a mistake because every part of you is perfectly aligned with his, fitting together in a way that no one else ever could.

“Stay,” you implore him once more, your voice soft but earnest.

“Only if you promise to go on a date with me,” he says against your lips.

You blink blearily up at him, your mind still lost in the moment. “A date?” you ask, almost in wonder. There was a time when the two of you spent everyday together, back when you were in the purgatory between best friends and something more. But in retrospect, you’ve never gone on an actual date. Despite everything you’ve done so far, the thought of going out with Cassian is what sends your heart racing.

“Okay,” you finally agree, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian’s smile is radiant, a bright light in this wretched world. And for the first time in a long while, you look forward to the future.

Author’s Note: Hello! I’m new to this fandom & I’m so down bad I started writing fics again. I’d love to hear your thoughts 💙

+ This was literally supposed to be just Cassian + shotgunning but now there's plot so here we are.

#my fic #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #a court of mist and fury #angst with a happy ending #cassian fanfic #cassian fluff

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ambermotta · 1 year ago

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Offerings: What's, How's, When's, and Why's

Below are some of the most common questions regarding offerings!

Disclaimer: Long post. This is based on my experience and research. I don't claim to know the absolute truth.

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TL,DR: A lot of things about offerings are flexible, subjective, and depend on culture, personal beliefs, and mundane constraints. While there are general considerations and guidelines, you will always have to do deeper research in order for the offerings to fit what you are doing and what is within your reach.

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Why make Offerings?

There are many ways to see offerings and it can vary depending on personal beliefs and religion. Some of the most common reasons people make them:

Energy exchange: you give something to receive something. This can be seen as payment, fair trade or as a way to keep balance.

Thanksgiving: you give offerings as a way of giving thanks

Honoring: you give offerings as a way to pay respect

All of the above

When to make Offerings?

It is advisable to make offerings whenever you are doing spiritual work with any kind of spirit. You can make the offering before, during or after your work.

You can also make offerings a standalone thing for praising, honoring or thanksgiving spiritual beings.

What happens to the offerings? "Why do spiritual beings need food"?

Spiritual beings also use energy. Just as you use energy to do any activity, spirits also use energy for their own purposes. When you make an offering you are offering them energy, just as when you eat you are fueling your organic needs.

If you are asking a spirit to help you they may even use the energy from your offerings to fuel the magic needed for what you asked.

They don't need energy to live like we do (they don't die), but we all use energy in some way for some purpose. When you give proper offerings, aligned with the energy you need and the type of work, you can make your magickal workings stronger and develop deeper bonds with the spirits.

The spirits are not going to literally eat food you give them, but you may notice changes in "how it feels/looks like" that are subtle.

For example, when I was a child my parents pointed out that when flowers (such as a rose) are used in strong, successful magical workings they dry after a while but the petals don't fall. It tends to preserve its original aspect.

Of course, it's not an exact science, but you may observe some weird things.

How long should I leave offerings out?

Depends. Some rituals and traditions may ask you to leave them for a few days, some are to be consumed during or after the ritual. If not specified you may leave them for a day or dispose of them the next morning. Non-organic offerings may stay at the altar indefinitely or for long periods of time before being dispatched.

How to dispose of offerings?

This varies with culture and religious beliefs, so look for what was traditionally considered respectful. However, it's also important to take into account your reality, and if you are in doubt you can try to ask the spirits themselves what is the ideal way of disposing of them.

Some cultures bury their offerings. For example, in hellenic paganism it is (traditionally) believed offerings to chthonic deities should be buried and never eaten.

Some cultures don't mind you eating and/or drinking the offerings yourself after the rite is done. In Kemeticism (again, traditionally) eating offerings is preferred as to not waste food. If you are under financial constraints and cannot afford to throw away food this can be a good way of giving offerings while also avoiding waste. Of course this only applies to edible offerings, eaten right after you are done with your ritual. Please don't ingest anything that could be spoiled, illegal (such as underage alcohol consumption) or toxic.

Leaving it in a clean space in nature. This can be controversial and/or illegal depending on where you live and what you are disposing of, so make sure to get that checked out. In some cultures it is traditional to dispose of offerings even if they contain non-organic matter, but I advocate for only disposing in nature organic, non-toxic offerings. Times have changed, nowadays we must be more responsible of what we throw in nature and the effects it can cause.

An alternative to disposing in nature is to dispose of it on garden plants, if you have them, or re-use what would be wasted in some way. This can be an option for smaller offerings and folks with location restraints.

Dispose of them in the garbage. This can be controversial but I don't see it as an issue. If someone has something that makes the other options impossible or a big hassle, should they just not give offerings? I personally don't think so. Anyone is welcome to disagree, but respect the reality of other folks.

Non-organic, devotional offerings may also be kept in your house or garden in a dedicated/sacred space.

Offerings can also be burned. Always be careful handling fire, be aware of accidents and make sure to do research about what you are burning since some things can release toxic chemicals when burned.

Side note on eating offerings: Some spiritual beings like to share food and drink with you as a way of bonding and celebration. In some cultures, it is traditional to share in food and drink for specific rituals. It also may not always be appropriate to eat food on certain occasions.

What to offer?

The most traditional offerings are that of food and I personally like these the most. However, offerings are not restrained to that! You can even give them a more devotional meaning by, for example, offering an action, a song, art (poems, pictures, dance, etc), incense, a candle, water, or your time and energy.

Some offerings are pretty generalist and work for a lot of stuff, such as water, candles, bread, flowers and fruits. You can use these when you are short on supplies or when you are not entirely sure what you should offer.

But ideally you will want to offer something whose energy aligns with your purpose and the spiritual being you are working with. For example, you could offer lilies or white roses if you are doing work associated with peacefulness, but if you want passion you might want to pick red roses and cinnamon instead.

There will be times where you will have to improvise. You don't have to go without giving an offering just because you don't have exactly what you wanted to use. Yes it's better to have everything aligned, but sometimes you may feel the urge to do an offering at an inopportune time and you'll need to be flexible. This is why it's always good to have some generalist ingredients laying around.

How to make offerings?

Again, this can vary with culture and religion. You will have to find out what is the best way for your culture and beliefs.

But if you are unsure, here is a general setup:

Gather your offerings and everything you'll need for what you're doing.

Ideally cleanse and protect yourself and the environment you're in. If you have a space dedicated for offerings it's even better.

Remember you can give offerings before, during or after spiritual workings. Know at which point of the process you'll make the offering before you get started.

When you are ready to make your offering, start by saying a prayer and/or saying a few words. Try to tune in with the energy you are making the offering for. Here you can declare why you are making this offering and what you want (if applicable). Remember offerings have many uses, so here you can give praise, express your thanks and/or petition something to the forces you are making the offering for.

After making the offering you can meditate and try to tune in with spirits and what they feel. You can try talking to them. You can also carry on with whatever you planned to do.

Finish your ritual in a way you see fit and thank the spiritual beings involved.

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Final considerations!

Please, PLEASE make sure what you are offering and disposing of is LEGAL to acquire and dispose of.

Be conscious about the environment .

There needs to be a balance between honoring tradition and your reality living in the modern era.

To give offerings is to give energy. Make sure you are "feeding" the right spiritual beings, and not just being exploited for energy. Protections first, offerings later.

Be mindful of any potential accidents, especially concerning fire, children and pets. Be careful with potentially toxic offerings accessible to children, pets and wildlife.

Thank you for reading and best of luck in your practice ♡

#offerings #long post #witchcraft #paganism #magick #witchblr #spirit work #deity work #deity worship #witch tips #baby witch #paganblr #pagan tips

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deancashorrorfest · 14 days ago

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We're Baaack... And Bigger than Ever

Come one, come all to the third year of Dean🔪Cas Horrorfest! We've got ghouls and gore, gays and theys! Cannibalism as far as the eye can see! Truly a feast for the senses.

This year I tasked these horrific creatures with a reverse round and they really ate the competition. Below the cut, you'll find things beyond any human comprehension.. Viewer beware, you're in for a scare.

Any Way That You Want Me | M | 10,455 It should have been a cake walk. Get in, investigate the haunted house, and figure out where to dig, salt and burn. But when Cas somehow gets cursed - trapped inside the house's mirrors - Dean finds himself in a race against time. Each day Cas' strength is fading. It's up to Dean to find a solution by digging through the house and the belongings of the former owner.

What he uncovers in the house may change everything. Link to Fic | Link to Art Wicked Muse | E | 15,673 Castiel Novak is a solitary creature. Corporate engineer by day, serial killer by night, and always by himself. Just the way he likes it. Until a new coworker's long, bowed legs, green eyes, and crooked smile catch his eye. He's certain he'll have to kill Dean, at first. He can't afford distractions, living the double life that he does. When the time comes, though, he just can't bring himself to do it. Artistic inspiration, long dormant in Castiel's life, replaces murderous intent. As his obsession grows, so too does a newfound wish that he could share the deepest, darkest depths of himself with Dean. That Dean would understand, would accept, would even celebrate Castiel's bloody inclinations. But that's absurd. Unthinkable. Dean isn't like that. Is he? Link to Fic | Link to Art Herbicidal | T | 8,249 Dean is settled. His relationship with Cas is going strong, he has a place to call home, and his biggest problems are run-of-the-mill cases and unruly teenagers who think they know everything there is to hunting. Hell, he even plays with the thought of retiring. But then something starts killing people left and right in Lebanon, and Dean and Cas are faced with a case and a foe they have no idea what to do about. Link to Fic | Link to Art Oubliettes of Stone and Sky | T | 9,214 Dean is trying to sacrifice himself for his country like any good king would, and Cas has been sent to stop him. Cas has to keep Dean hostage while journeying through a dust storm and a castle with a mummy inside. Dean is waiting for the chance to escape--and Cas is ready to capture him again. Link to Fic | Link to Art Angel in the Ivory Castle | G | 20,074

Castiel's family is royalty in another world that has lived in peace for many years until recently a darkness has started to spread which has slowly overtaken the beautiful green fields they'd once walk through. Creatures have become corrupted, twisted and turned into something grotesque. Castiel was sent to the other world to find the being he is bonded to in which it's been rumored to save their world but in reality they know what's left doesn't look worth the risk. Link to Fic | Link to Art

Dean and Castiel vs. Evil | E | 31,451

Castiel is trying to survive a camping trip in the Appalachians with his annoying fraternity brothers. At a nearby cabin, Dean is trying to clean up the remains of his and Sam’s recent vamp hunt. Both Dean and Castiel wouldn’t mind exploring their mutual attraction.

But there’s a problem: due to a series of misunderstandings, Castiel’s friends are convinced that Dean and Sam are serial killers. The fact that Castiel's friends keep dying in increasingly grisly ways doesn't help matters. Is there really a killer on the loose? And will Dean and Cas ever manage to score some alone time? Link to Fic | Link to Art

Vacation Interrupted | M | 9,158 Dean can’t remember the last time he took a vacation. Fighting monsters is basically all he’s ever known. They’ve defeated Chuck and Dean finally grew a pair and confessed his feelings and Cas reciprocated. The two of them, along with Sam and Eileen, decide to dip their toes in the sand and take a vacation since the world is relatively monster free. Or at least they thought it was until a Kraken decided to ruin their vacation and start killing people, almost taking Dean for its next victim if Castiel didn’t rescue him in time. So much for a relaxing vacation. Link to Fic | Link to Art Communion | E | 53,639

Few areas in the world are subject to the polar night phenomenon, a period where the sun never rises above the horizon.

When Castiel Novak reaches out to the Winchesters for help, convinced that vampires are about to descend upon one such town during the upcoming polar night, the boys head up to Point Hollow, Alaska to clear the nest before night falls.

What was meant to be a three-day stay devolves into sixty-five days of bloodshed and darkness as resources dwindle and bodies start dropping. Overwhelmed by the calculated organization of the creatures and the size of their nest, it quickly becomes clear that there’s more to the ‘vampires’ than initially seemed.

They’re cunning, they’re ancient, and they’re powerful—and they’ll stop at nothing to be satisfied. But between the starving people and starving creatures, Dean manages to find solace in Castiel—who just might be holding a secret himself. A secret that is key to destroying the creatures and their master, once and for all. Link to Fic | Link to Art Romancing the Exit Sign | E | 125,370

A teenage boy is left to die in a shallow grave and something slithers into his bones. Devotees of an ancient god work to bring Her into the world, as with equivalent fanaticism, a man on a mission picks them off one by one. A lonesome drifter crosses paths with a mysterious stranger and finds himself inexorably drawn into the middle of it all.

Dean Winchester is adrift. All he has is his car, the next hunt, and a conversation he doesn’t want to have waiting for him in California. Then a case involving mangled bodies washing up on shore in an idyllic lakeside community puts him on the trail of a man calling himself Castiel, and the dangerous web he’s entangled in. Dean is used to living in a world of monsters, but the End of Days is a little out of his wheelhouse. Especially when his only ally is determined to keep his secrets behind his teeth, even as they draw closer together. Still, he intends to see things through, no matter how dark the path ahead gets.

It’s either that, or call his brother. Link to Fic | Link to Art Survivalism | E | 14,067

Genetic engineers Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester are on the verge of a breakthrough in cancer treatment and possibly even a cure, using genetic manipulation and incredibly, shark DNA.

Following a devastating diagnosis of brain cancer, and amid growing pressure from his boss, Dick Roman, for results, Castiel is pushed to an act of desperation. He tests the cure on himself with disastrous and violent results.

He has never been so hungry. Link to Fic | Link to Art

These Hallways Echo | M | 10,290 Loneliness. Previously, Dean Winchester had thought he knew the definition of the word, the way it felt to be isolated. That was wishful thinking. It’s here and now, in these never-ending corridors of winding walls and this damn carpet with the nauseating pattern, where Dean discovers the true meaning of being alone. Solitary. Detached. The man hears ghosts, echoes of conversations long since over, but there’s nobody for him to speak to. Dean sees the phantoms of late vacationers stepping through doorways or occupying beds but he can never get anybody’s attention. No one stops to hear him. Not a single soul has looked him in the eye or acknowledged that he, too, is trapped here. Caught in this unending hallway where time means nothing and waiting for tomorrow is fruitless. Link to Fic | Link to Art Ground Control to Major Tom | E | 21,506 Dean Winchester dreamed of being a mechanic all his life, but he never thought he would end up working as a mechanic for NASA and going into space. He is thrust into his first ever space mission after a strange lunar body, dubbed Luna-b I, mysteriously appears in Earth’s sky. Teams of astronauts scramble up to the permanent lunar base and begin analysis to determine if the blue orb is any threat to mankind. Most of the first team is sent home after a few months, nearly all of them having fallen ill with devastating cases of space sickness. As time goes on, it becomes clear that something altogether unnatural is going on here. Dean feels like he’s losing his mind as he and his crewmates also begin to succumb to sickness. He races to figure out what could possibly be the root cause. Is Luna-b I really just some weird, deep space rock that got caught in the Moon’s orbit by chance? Or is it something much more sinister, watching and waiting for the opportune moment? Link to Fic | Link to Art The Forgotten Halls | T | 9,337 A long time from now — maybe decades, maybe centuries — there are only the Halls, and the Entity, and the Angel. They exist in harmony, mostly. When an outsider changes their routine, a routine so long-standing that the Angel remembers nothing that had come before it, the disturbance will threaten the fabric of their entire universe. Link to Fic | Link to Art It's Got A Death Curse | E | 19,101 Dean and his friends have been coming to Camp Garrison for years, first as campers, then as counselors. Their last summer together kicks off with a bang when a figure from their dark past reappears and buried secrets from a near-forgotten tragedy threaten to resurface. It only gets worse when a storm rolls in, and the night becomes a gory fight for survival. The camp may not have electricity, but it's got a death curse. Link to Fic | Link to Art ghost, zero, suitcase & the moon | M | 19,433

Dean has always known it was ending. The world, that is. He knew it when he was three, awake and screaming in the middle of the night with the image of fire leaving an afterburn behind his eyelids. He knew it while he learned to ride a bike, while he went to his first school dance, had his first kiss, tipped back his first beer with his dad. He knew it when dad left, too. When Sammy died. When it all began to crumble.

He has always known it was ending. Now he's alone in a cabin somewhere so far north and so far west that he thinks half the continent never knew it existed in the first place, and he's got the same damn nightmares, the same burn behind his eyes, and the sense that ending is a verb that goes on and on into eternity and outside of time. Link to Fic | Link to Art Rosewood | T | 5,099

Dean believes a lot of things.

He believes the manner of his death was decided by his father the very night that yellow-eyed demon ripped his mom away from him.

He believes he’ll die, broken and bloody and alone on a hunt, and anything Cas does only delays the inevitable.

He believes he doesn’t deserve to be saved.

Dean knows Cas will do it anyway.

Months after Mrs. Butters leaves the bunker, intent on finding a home of her own, a peaceful section of pines set deep into the American heartland becomes anything but. Haunted by Purgatory at every turn, and forced to confront the consequences of decades of torture and abandonment at the hands of his predecessors, Dean and Cas set off to solve a string of disappearances in the forest where they stumble across a familiar face -- and an all-too-familiar feeling. Link to Fic | Link to Art MAW | M | 8,575

The world is full of sorrow, of sadness, of pain. The people within it deserve better than what Castiel's father gave them. They deserve peace and contentment, security and love. They deserve a New World.

And there is no safer place than inside Castiel. Link to Fic | Link to Art hold my hand until it bleeds | E | TBD The five years that Alistair did nothing but beat him. The feeling of no longer having skin. The feeling of no longer having flesh. The feeling of being nothing but bone and blood. Link to Fic | Link to Art The Possession of Jimmy Novak | E | 16,952

Dean Winchester was surprised to learn that when his father died, he left behind a beautiful house in the suburbs of Illinois, complete with neighbors who welcomed the newly arrived Dean with casseroles and invitations to join them at church.

It all seemed so very normal.

But there was something about Jimmy Novak that Dean couldn’t put his finger on, something not normal, and when Dean became an unwitting accomplice to Jimmy’s crime he discovered the horrifying truth:

That wasn't Jimmy Novak. Link to Fic | Link to Art It Will Come Back | E | 13,164

Senior Special Agent Castiel Novak and Special Agent Dean Winchester are partners within the FBI's Criminal Investigation Division. For the past several months, they've been investigating a string of murders, all resulting in cold-cases from what they believe to be the same killer. Despite being one of the best minds in his division, Castiel can't find a link between cases, and it's driving him to his wits' end.

As the cases begin to pile up, Castiel's confidence plummets, the chances of catching the killer are growing smaller, and other members of the division are beginning to contribute to Castiel's decreasing faith in his detective skills. As time goes on, Dean is there to help Castiel, but a final case relating to a horror film might be the start of Castiel's unraveling. Link to Fic | Link to Art Someone to Punish Me | E | TBD

Dean's chasing another lead for his old man, this time ending up in Maine, searching for the town of Silent Hill. Residents of nearby Cushing tell him to stop looking, but he can't help it. He's got a job to do, after all. After a resident finally points him in the right direction, Dean finds his way up the mountain to Silent Hill. But there's so much more to the town than John let on. And so much more that Dean needs to learn about himself. Link to Fic (TBD) | Link to Art 1 | Link to Art 2 Night Shift | E | 67, 758

As far as job opportunities go, replacing the previous night guard of fifty years at the Nebraska Museum of Natural History wasn't Dean's first choice, but a job was a job. Especially considering he got fired from his last job and was in need of the money. However, said job proves to be more difficult than described.

Faced with strange events revolving around one of the exhibits he was tasked with guarding, an angel statue that was more than what it seemed to be, he must unravel the mysteries that arise as a result. Why did the angel statue come to life each night? Why did an unknown number keep messaging him the same sequence of numbers? It was a race against the clock and Dean's dwindling sanity to find answers to these mysteries. Link to Fic | Link to Art A Word in the Mists | M | 23,968

Mist as far as the eye can see. A gloomy ocean that seems to swallow up the sunlight like broken dreams. An old, rusty ship that creaks with every inch of movement. And a crew that could compete in an award for grumpiest people alive.

Dean really hates pretty much everything about this case, and would love nothing more than to call it quits and turn this ship around... if there wasn't the little issue of the disappearance of thousands of people across ten different ships on the open sea.

Saving lives is what he does. But he has to question if he isn't doing more harm than good when the disappearances begin on his own ship—and he still hasn't even figured out what kind of monster they're dealing with. Link to Fic | Link to Art Terror As Sharp As Pain | M | 10,815 After Jack brings Cas back from the Empty, everything almost returns to normal. Cas moves into The Bunker, they go back to hunting, and they do not talk about his confession. With the number of hunts dwindling, Team Free Will takes up a case in Derry, Maine, a town terrorized every 27 years by disappearances and violent deaths. Even though the cycle isn't due to repeat for another 19 years, they will have to face fear itself to free the town. Link to Fic | Link to Art no spill blood. | M | 7,217

A witch hunt becomes far more than that when Dean rescues an unassuming, innocent, harmless stranger. But Castiel is more than he seems, and as the lines of their unlikely connection blur, so does the truth. Revenge, plain and simple. Surviving to see it through, not so simple. Link to Fic | Link to Art You can find the complete collection over on Ao3! Happy Haunting, folks! See you next Halloween 👻🎃🤡

#deancashorrorfest #deancas horrorfest #deancas horrorfest masterpost

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 2 months ago

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Podcast Elections: ACAB Edition

The introduction to this poll has been moved to the Voter's Guide (under the cut) due to length. Please ensure you are registered to vote in your local elections, should you be eligible.

*There is no lesser evil when the institution itself exists to exploit, oppress, and enact violence. I refuse to vote in this race, but I will vote in other races on the ballot.

Elections are coming up in the USA. I'm used to voting about twice a year, and understand how few measures and candidates are truly exciting to vote for. There's a lot of maintenance (renewing bonds and levies, voting against limitations to abortions, etc). Most candidates have significant flaws and even the ones who seem promising will probably fail to meet their campaign promises. It's boring but important. To me it seems that the dramatic races and measures are usually more threatening (so we vote against it) then promising (so we vote for it). City Council, County Chair, School Board, Water District, Library Board, and so on are all highly important, but candidates' platforms can be opaque, or there can genuinely be no good options. But if we want clean water, good education, freedom to read, an attempt at affordable housing, etc., then we need to care about these positions.

But then there's the elections that never feel good. The elections for who gets to lead the people we allow to murder with little consequence. The people in charge of institutions that I would rather be destroyed. Obviously there's the big one, but frankly due to the electoral college, the state I live in, and partisan races usually coming down to Party over Policy, voting in that election feels incredibly ineffective (but I do it anyways).

Another institution I don't like voting for is the County Sheriff, but at least my vote feels more influential here. As this is a nonpartisan position, this will be a runoff election. That means if no candidate gets greater than 50% of the vote we will hold another race between the top two candidates the following week.

#Bonus Poll #Welcome to Night Vale #The Magnus Archives #Hi Nay #The Penumbra Podcast #Wooden Overcoats #Hello From The Hallowoods #The Kingmaker Histories #Victoriocity #The Silt Verses #Greater Boston #Also if you think my rambling is unprofessional you should read some of the things that get into actual voter's guides.#It's fun when it isn't infuriating.#ACAB Election

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elikajinnie · 12 days ago

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How Can I Choose?

P: Roommates!Heeseung & Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Bonding, Alcohol Drinking, Clubbing, Teasing like LOT of teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Suggestive Content (i mean it), they both kinda whipped for you, Ambigious Ending.

Synopsis: After months of crashing on friends' couches, you finally find a cheap apartment, only to realize your new roommates—Heeseung and Jake—both have feelings for you. As flirtation turns into tension, you must navigate the complexities of living together while deciding how to handle their surprising willingness to share you.

a/n: boaf. baof? BOAF! -- i HOPE the link of the drawing i made of the apartment is accessible! pls tell me if it isnt. anyways! i got this idea in the shower and fried my brain by writing it in the span of a few hours :) SO PLSSS DONT MIND HOW STUPID IT IS.

-----

You stand in front of a tall, gray apartment building, boxes and suitcases piled around you. One of your friends had been kind enough to drive you and your stuff to this new place, and as their car drives away, you're left with a sense of excitement. This is your chance to finally find some stability after a long stretch of uncertainty.

There’s an excitement buzzing in your chest, but a trace of exhaustion lingers. For weeks, you’ve been crashing on friends' couches, juggling multiple jobs, and the demands of school alongside the perpetual search for somewhere—anywhere—to land.

Finally, though, things seemed to be turning around. Just days ago, you’d been clocked in for a slow shift at the convenience store, trying to squeeze in some schoolwork behind the counter.

With only a handful of customers trickling in over the hours, you found yourself browsing for rental listings once you had finished your assignments.

Luck seemed to be on your side that day. The first ad you saw was for an apartment close to the city, with a store nearby and plenty of bus stops in the area. It was perfect. The listing described a single room available in a decently sized apartment, affordable and ideally located. The ad was put up by someone named Sim Jaeyun, who had a picture of a cute dog as his profile picture but no other personal information.

You scrolled through the pictures of the apartment, noting its clean, functional layout. The description specified the need for a tenant who was clean, could cook for themselves, wasn't excessively loud, and could pay rent on time. You nodded, realizing you met all those criteria, and sent in your request without hesitation.

As you close your laptop that day, a customer walks in, and you go back to your duties, hoping that this will be the break you've been waiting for. The prospect of finally unpacking your suitcase for good after moving out from your parents' house was a comforting thought that kept you going.

Now, standing at the building’s entrance, you can’t help but feel a small, hopeful thrill. You walk towards the door and pull your focus to the side panel by the intercom and scan for the familiar name: Jaeyun. But your eyes catch something else—Jake and Heeseung. You tilt your head, curious. Jake was the name you’d come to know him by in your recent conversations, the person who’d warmly accepted your request and walked you through what to expect. You hadn’t known there was another roommate. With a shrug, you figure it’s something you’ll ask him about once you’re inside. Pressing the buzzer, you wait.

A few seconds later, a soft buzz sounds, and the door clicks open. You place a wooden doorstop to prop it open and start bringing in your belongings, piling up suitcases and boxes just inside the entrance. The elevator dings, drawing your attention as the doors slide open, revealing a man stepping out. His dark hair falls casually around his glasses, framing a face both handsome and warm. His clothes are neat but relaxed, hanging comfortably on his frame, and his easy smile grows wider when he spots you.

“Hey! You must be the new tenant,” he greets, extending a hand as he reaches you. “I’m Jake.”

You introduce yourself with a grunt, and he nods, giving a friendly chuckle before he glances down at the boxes and bags. “Let me help you with that.” With his help, it doesn’t take long for you to gather your belongings into the elevator.

Once all your things are inside, Jake presses the button for the third floor, and the elevator doors glide shut with a soft hum. He turns to you, slipping easily into what sounds like a well-rehearsed rundown of apartment essentials.

“So, first thing,” he says, glancing over at you with a friendly smile, “I’ll get you a key for the front door. And the apartment itself has a digital lock, so I’ll give you the code as well. We usually change it every few months, just to be safe.”

You nod, taking it all in as he continues.

“The laundry room is in the basement. It’s shared with a few other units, but it’s usually pretty quiet. Most people don’t do laundry until the weekends, so if you want some quiet time down there, mid-week is best.” He gives a quick chuckle. “Also, there's a schedule sheet down there if you want to block off a time.”

As the elevator rises, he ticks off other small details—the garbage room is down the hall, recycling day is every Tuesday, and there’s a spot by the door for your shoes, since he prefers to keep the place tidy. It’s all practical, straightforward, and reassuring.

As he speaks, you think back to the other name on the door panel and decide to ask. “So… Heeseung?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a good friend,” Jake replies, giving a small nod. “He’s crashing with me. His schedule is intense, so you won’t see much of him unless there’s something big planned. But he’s a good guy—you’ll like him.”

You nod in understanding, unable to keep the fleeting thought that if Jake looks this good, Heeseung might be just as handsome.

The elevator dings, signaling that you’ve arrived. Jake reaches down, effortlessly lifting a heavy box as he steps into the hallway. He walks to door 3F, punches in the code, and holds the door open as you step into your new apartment.

The first thing that strikes you is the openness of the space. Sunlight filters in through large windows, illuminating the clean, modern living room. A spacious couch faces an oversized TV, framed by soft, neutral-colored walls and minimal decor that gives it a cozy feel. Further in, to the right, lies an open kitchen and dining area. There’s a polished dining table set against the wall, and you can picture yourself here, finally settled and able to take in a meal in peace. A small staircase with four steps sits to the right, leading up to what you assume are the bedrooms.

Jake steps up beside you, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, uh, did a bit of cleaning before you came. Wanted to make sure you had a good first impression.”

You chuckle softly and assure him it’s perfect as he leads you up the stairs. At the top, he pushes open the door to a room and steps inside, placing the bag and box he’s holding down carefully. “Here we are. This is your room.”

You step inside, taking in the space that is, for now, just walls and an bed frame. But with your belongings, you can already imagine turning it into comfortable. Jake heads back downstairs to grab more of your things, leaving you to take in the moment.

Setting your suitcase and bag down, you take a deep breath, just as Jake returns, balancing a final pair of bags. He gives a small, easy smile as he sets them down by the bed frame.

“Oh, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I took the liberty of getting you a mattress. Figured it’d make the first few nights a bit more comfortable.”

Your face lights up in gratitude. “Thank you, Jake. That’s really thoughtful.”

He shrugs it off with a smile. “Glad it helps.” Gesturing around the small hall outside, he continues, “So, my room’s just across from yours, and the bathroom’s at the end of the hall, next to my room. Heeseung’s room is right beside yours, but he’s out right now, so no worries there.” He hands you a small, brass-colored key. “Here’s your copy of the front door key.”

You take it, the weight of it feeling like a tiny anchor, grounding you here. With a nod, he gives you a quick smile and quietly steps out, closing the door behind him.

As the silence settles, you glance around, noticing—thankfully—that the door has a lock, which brings a small comfort. You exhale, feeling a rare sense of privacy and security, and decide it’s time to start unpacking. Unzipping your first bag, you begin pulling out clothes and books, setting them on the bed.

With each item you unpack, the room slowly takes shape. Clothes find a place in the closet, your books line up on a narrow shelf, and you tack a few personal photos and mementos on the walls, bringing color and comfort to the once-bare space. A small, soft rug unfurls at the foot of the bed, and a cozy blanket drapes over the mattress. By the time you finish, hours have slipped by without you realizing it.

Just then, a loud growl from your stomach reminds you it’s well past dinnertime. You leave the room, closing the door behind you, and step out into the apartment. The lights are dim, shadows stretching through the now quiet space, and Jake is nowhere in sight. Shrugging, you make your way to the kitchen.

You open the fridge and peer inside, noticing containers labeled with Jake and Heeseung’s names—and a few others you don’t recognize. One container in particular catches your eye, with a handwritten label that reads Ni-ki. Just as you’re about to open it, wondering who this Ni-ki is, a soft chime sounds from the front door, signaling someone’s arrival.

Turning, you see a tall man standing in the entryway, framed by the dim glow of the hallway. He’s effortlessly cool, dressed in baggy pants and a leather jacket, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. His dark hair is swept back, and his gaze sharpens as he looks at you.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice low and slightly gruff.

You introduce yourself, explaining you’re Jake’s new roommate, and he nods in understanding.

“So, you’re the girl Jake was talking about,” he says, almost to himself. “I’m Heeseung.” He then glances at the container still in your hand and raises an eyebrow. “You might want to avoid eating Ni-ki’s leftovers,” he advises with a small smirk. “He can be… protective of his food.”

You tilt your head. “Who’s Ni-ki?”

“A friend,” Heeseung replies simply, slipping out of his jacket and hanging it by the door. As you place the container back in the fridge, he suddenly reappears in front of you, holding out a takeout bag.

“Here,” he says, passing it to you.

You take it, peeking inside to find a neatly packed dinner. You look up, surprised. “Thank you, Heeseung.”

His expression softens, a faint smile curving his lips. “You’re welcome.”

A voice from behind interrupts. “Can you close the fridge?”

You and Heeseung turn to see Jake standing at the kitchen entrance, dressed in pajamas, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy smile. You quickly apologize and shut the fridge door, but Jake waves it off as he turns his attention to Heeseung.

“Hey, man,” Jake says, stepping over to Heeseung. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he looks back at you, resting his hand on your shoulder and playfully bouncing on his feet. “Isn’t she great? The new roommate?”

Heeseung chuckles, looking down at you with a gaze that feels unexpectedly warm. “She’s even better than you said,” he says, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing tone. “Got a good taste in roommates, huh?”

Jake nods, grinning. “Right? A good pick for sure.” He tosses you a lighthearted wink, adding, “We’re lucky to have you here.”

The playful compliments catch you off guard, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. Silently grateful for the dim light that hides your blush, you stammer out a thank you, bidding them both goodnight before slipping back to your room.

Once inside, you lock the door and settle onto the bed, setting up the takeout and opening your laptop. The food is still warm, and you relax against the pillows, pulling up an episode of the series you’ve been watching.

-----

The next morning, your alarm jolts you awake, piercing through the calm of your dreams. You groan and fumble to turn it off, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up.

After changing into a fresh set of clothes, you grab your toiletries and shuffle out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty. You lock the bathroom door behind you, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips.

Inside, the bathroom is decently sized, its neutral colors soothing. A simple shower sits in the far corner, while a toilet is tucked beside it. Two sinks stand side by side, both topped with a huge mirror that reflects the morning light. You notice one sink is filled with various male grooming products—shaving cream, two toothbrushs, and a few other items—while the other sink remains empty. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember Jake mentioning that the empty sink was yours.

You get to work, brushing your teeth and washing your face, the cool water refreshing against your skin. The cabinets hold a few decorations and essentials, but you keep it simple as you focus on getting ready for the day. Once you finish, you take a last glance at your reflection, before exiting the bathroom. You head back to your room to grab your bag. After making sure the door is locked behind you, you head down the stairs and out of the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hope you didn’t wake Jake and Heeseung; they both have classes later in the day, and you’d hate to disturb their sleep.

Once outside, you take a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs as you walk toward the bus stop. You decide to skip breakfast this morning, opting to grab lunch on campus and planning to pick up groceries in the afternoon instead.

The elevator ride down feels swift, and as you step outside, you see the bus pulling up just in time. You board, find a seat, and settle in, clutching your bag on your lap as you pull out your phone. With a few taps, you put on your favorite playlist, letting the music drown out the morning chatter around you.

As the bus rolls along, you gaze out the window, watching the world blur by. Trees, shops, and people merge into a soft painting of morning life, and a small smile spreads across your face.

----

After a long day of classes, you make your way back to the bus stop, the familiar rhythm of your routine guiding you. Once on the bus, you relax, your mind still buzzing from the lectures and discussions. The bus stops at the mall, and you hop off, ready to clock into your shift at the clothing store.

The hours fly by as you assist customers, folding clothes, and restocking shelves. Each sale and every smile from satisfied shoppers makes the time pass a little quicker. When your shift finally ends, you clock out, ready to head to your next job.

Another bus ride takes you to the convenience store, where you cover for one of your colleagues who is running late. Luckily, your shift is only a few hours. You greet familiar faces as you work the register, and soon enough, your colleague arrives, a bit flustered but apologetic. You clock out, the end of your shift bringing a welcome sigh of relief.

With a little time to spare, you decide to shop for groceries. The store is busy, but you quickly gather the essentials you need for the week. With bags in hand, you hop on the bus again, this time heading to a nearby takeout place where you’ve already called in an order. The thought of cooking feels too exhausting after a long day, so you indulge in the convenience.

Once you pick up your food, you decide to walk home since it’s not too far. As you approach the apartment, you pull out your keychain, finding the key that now feels familiar. Unlocking the door, you step inside, your feet heavy with fatigue. The elevator ride up feels like a small victory, and as you reach the third floor, you shuffle down the hallway to your door.

You punch in the code, the door clicking open as you step inside. Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket, you’re immediately greeted by the cheerful presence of Jake and Heeseung. They’re in the living room, and their warm smiles lift your spirits.

“How was your day?” Jake asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

“Exhausting,” you reply, dragging your bag into the dining area and setting down the takeout food on the table.

Jake’s eyes light up, and he hurries over, his curiosity piqued as he peeks at the food. Meanwhile, Heeseung moves to help you with the groceries, offering to take the bags to the kitchen.

As you unpack, you can’t help but smile at Jake, who is now sneakily grabbing some fries from the takeout container. You shake your head playfully, and he grins, unrepentant in his munching.

The three of you settle around the table, sharing the fries and nuggets, laughter filling the space as you recount the amusing moments from your day. But soon, Heeseung checks the time and realizes he has to get to work.

“Alright, I gotta run,” he says, grabbing his jacket and helmet. “See you guys later!” You and Jake wave goodbye as the front door closes behind him, leaving you and Jake alone in the apartment.

The atmosphere shifts to a cozy calm as you both move to the couch, where Jake grabs a blanket and hands it to you. You settle in, finding the couch surprisingly comfortable.

“Alright, what are we in the mood for?” Jake asks, glancing over at you.

“Something light, maybe a comedy?” you suggest, settling into the cushions.

He nods, his finger hovering over a title. “I’m down for that. Do you have a favorite comedy?”

You think for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face as you recall one of your all-time favorites. “I love Superbad! It’s just so ridiculous but really relatable. What about you?”

Jake grins, leaning back. “Classic choice! I’d have to say The Hangover. That movie just cracks me up every time. The whole concept is just so over-the-top.”

You laugh, remembering the wild escapades of the characters. “It really is! And the way everything just spirals out of control—it's like a train wreck you can’t look away from.”

He clicks on a rom-com, and you settle in to watch. As the opening credits roll, you continue chatting. “So, what got you into movies?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jake shrugs, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I guess I grew up watching them with my family. It was always a thing for us to have movie nights on weekends. How about you?”

“Same! My parents were big on movies too, so I was basically raised on classic films. We’d have popcorn and everything. I think that’s where I got my love for them.”

You share stories of your favorite movie nights, each anecdote flowing effortlessly between you. You talk about the films that have made you cry, the ones that made you laugh until your sides hurt, and the thrillers that kept you on the edge of your seat.

“I’m a sucker for horror movies,” Jake admits, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “The adrenaline rush is just so addictive. Have you seen The Conjuring?”

You nod vigorously, recalling how it had you hiding behind your hands the entire time. “That one is terrifying! I had to sleep with the lights on for a week after.”

Jake laughs, and it feels easy and comfortable, the way friends can be. “Same! I love the ones that mess with your mind. You think it’s just a simple scare, but then it leaves you questioning everything later.”

The warmth of the couch and the soft hum of the movie make it hard to keep your eyes open. You fight against the pull of sleep, telling yourself you should stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. Your eyelids grow heavier, and soon enough, they flutter shut, surrendering to the comfort enveloping you.

Time slips away, and you drift in and out of consciousness. The sounds of the film fade into a gentle lull, a backdrop to your dreams.

You only briefly wake when you feel yourself being lifted. Your eyes flutter open, and you blink a few times, trying to make sense of your surroundings. When your gaze meets Jake’s, looking down at you with a sleepy smile, warmth spreads through your chest.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, his voice low and soothing. You can’t find it in you to argue, and you let the comforting haze of sleep pull you under once more.

Jake carries you effortlessly, maneuvering through the apartment, and you feel the gentle sway of his movements. You catch brief glimpses of your surroundings as he struggles momentarily with the lock on your bedroom door, the soft click echoing in the stillness.

He finally succeeds, and with a gentle motion, he lays you down in your bed. The softness of your plushies welcomes you, and you instinctively snuggle closer to them. You hear Jake’s soft chuckle, and it makes you smile even in your half-asleep state.

Just before you fully drift off again, you feel a soft brush against your face as Jake tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

He smiles down at you, a quiet moment shared between you. Then, with a gentle touch, he walks out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

A few moments pass before he returns, this time holding a makeup wipe. You stir slightly, feeling his presence as he approaches the bed. Carefully, he leans down, and you can barely register what he’s doing as he begins to remove your makeup from the day. His movements are soft and precise, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his tenderness.

“There,” he whispers when he’s done, a smile on his lips as he looks at you. “Pretty...” The word lingers in the air, and even in your half-asleep state, it makes your heart flutter. He tosses the used wipe into the small bin underneath your desk and quietly closes your door.

The sound of the movie plays softly in the background as Jake settles back into the living room, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his features. He waits for Heeseung to return, glancing occasionally toward the hallway, a small smile on his face as he thinks of you tucked away in your room.

----

The next morning, you wake up slowly, the soft sunlight filtering through your window, casting warm rays across your face. It feels like a rare luxury to have a late shift, and you stretch lazily under the covers before finally rolling out of bed. You take your time with your morning routine, enjoying the rare moment of leisure before a long shift ahead.

Once you’re dressed and refreshed, you make your way to the kitchen, the familiar scents of home enveloping you. You decide to whip up some breakfast, you switch on the TV, letting the sounds of a morning show accompany your meal prep.

After breakfast, you head back to your room to tackle some schoolwork at your desk. The quiet hum of the apartment is comforting as you focus on your notes.

It’s not long before you hear the soft sound of Heeseung’s bedroom door creaking open, followed by some shuffling footsteps. Curious, you glance toward your door, wondering if he’s finally awake. Moments later, a knock at your door pulls you from your concentration.

“Come in!” you call out, looking up to see Heeseung standing there, looking adorably disheveled. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, a baggy t-shirt swamping him, and messy hair sticks out in all directions, giving him a relaxed look. His fluffy socks peek out from beneath his pants as he shuffles inside.

“Can you make breakfast for me?” he asks, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Can’t you?” you reply teasingly.

“Too tired…” he mutters, a hint of a pout on his lips.

“Late night at the bar?” you inquire, stepping around him and heading to the kitchen, a grin spreading across your face as he follows you like a sleepy shadow.

“Yeah, I had to cover for my friend while he hooked up with some girl… and he took too long,” he explains, his tone flat as he leans against the kitchen island.

“Oh, that sounds terrible. When did you get home?” you ask, measuring out ingredients for waffles.

“Four a.m…” he mumbles, and you can’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head at his apparent misfortune.

You hum as you mix the batter, the rhythmic motion soothing in its familiarity. Suddenly, you feel Heeseung draping himself over you from behind, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting against the crook of your neck.

“Heeseung?…” you mumble, surprised but not entirely against the sudden intimacy. All you receive in response are muffled grumbles, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

After a moment of stunned hesitation, you decide to carry on with your waffle-making, pouring the batter into the hot waffle iron while he clings to you like a sleepy koala. The gentle weight of him against you is unexpected, but oddly comforting. You focus on the task at hand, feeling the warmth radiating from both the iron and his body.

You try to push the knowledge of how close you both are to the back of your mind, reminding yourself that if Jake were to come in, he wouldn’t see you from this angle. The thought makes your cheeks warm, but you push it aside, trying to maintain your composure as you concentrate on breakfast.

As the waffle iron hisses and the sweet smell begins to fill the air, you steal a glance at Heeseung, who seems perfectly content with his head resting on you, his grip tightening slightly as if to anchor himself in place.

When the waffles finally finish cooking, the kitchen fills with the delicious scent of warm sweetness, and you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Heeseung slowly releases his hold on you, finally letting you go as he moves to grab a plate. He fills it with a few waffles, drizzling syrup over them before taking a bite, a look of sheer bliss crossing his face.

“These are amazing,” he mumbles with a mouthful, and you can’t help but chuckle at his eagerness.

“Thanks! Just don’t forget who made them,” you tease, your heart warming at his genuine happiness.

He finishes chewing and leans over to wrap his arms around you once more, pulling you in for a brief hug. “Seriously, thank you. You’re a lifesaver,” he says before plopping down on the couch, clearly ready to enjoy his breakfast in comfort.

You linger in the kitchen for a moment, a smile still on your face, before opening the fridge and grabbing a vitamin drink. You pop it open and take a refreshing sip, as you walk out into the living room.

As you step into the space, you pause at the sight before you. Heeseung has sprawled across the couch, the half-eaten waffle left hanging from his mouth, his eyes shut and small snores escaping him. It’s an adorable sight, and you can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief at how cute he looks.

You quickly grab your phone, snapping a picture of the moment before sending it off to Jake, knowing he would appreciate the humor of the situation once he sees it after class.

With a playful smirk, you approach Heeseung, carefully prying the half-eaten waffle from his mouth. As you do, you notice his shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin. You gently pull it down, wanting to make him more comfortable. Then, you grab a nearby blanket and drape it over him, ensuring he stays warm.

Ruffling his messy hair affectionately, you step back to admire your handiwork, a fond smile gracing your lips. With Heeseung settled and blissfully unaware, you retreat back to your room, determined to continue your studying.

A little while later, as you immerse yourself in your notes, your phone buzzes with a notification. You glance at the screen, seeing Jake's name light up, and you can’t help but smile at the excited message he sent:

“OMG, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! Heeseung is literally draping himself over the couch like a cute baby sloth!”

You laugh, unable to help yourself as you imagine Jake’s exaggerated reactions. You quickly type back a response, “Right? He’s impossible! Just don’t tell him I took that photo.”

As the afternoon rolls around, you glance at the clock, realizing it’s time to get ready for work. You quietly shuffle around the apartment, careful not to wake Heeseung, who remains soundly asleep on the couch, still draped in the cozy blanket you had covered him with. You smile at the sight, finding it hard to resist the urge to snap another picture, but you decide to let him rest instead.

After changing into your work uniform, you grab your bag and head out, giving one last look at the peaceful scene before closing the door behind you. The chill of the air greets you as you make your way to the bus stop, excitement bubbling in your chest for the shift ahead.

Once you arrive at the sweet shop, you clock in and prepare for the bustling evening. Just as the bell above the door jingles, a wave of children floods in, their faces lighting up at the sight of colorful candies and pastries. You jump into action, serving up scoops of ice cream and filling bags with sugary treats, the cheerful chaos making the time fly by.

After what feels like hours, the rush of kids finally calms down, and you lean against the counter, wiping your brow with a sigh of relief. You chat with two of your colleagues, sharing stories and laughing about the antics of the day.

“Did you see the way that kid tried to sneak in an extra gummy bear?” one of them chuckles, mimicking the child’s guilty expression. You join in the laughter, easing the fatigue from your day.

Eventually, your shift comes to an end, and you clock out, tired but satisfied. As you take the bus home, you pull out your phone, ready to check messages. To your delight, you see a new notification from Jake. He’s sent you a picture, a selfie of him looking triumphant, with Heeseung still sprawled across the couch behind him, the blanket now haphazardly draped over his body.

You can’t help but laugh at the scene, Jake’s grin wide as he gives a thumbs-up, and you quickly save the picture to your phone.

“You’re not letting him sleep the whole day away, are you?” you text back, adding a laughing emoji to convey your playful tone.

Almost immediately, Jake replies, “Nah, I just let him be while I made some dinner. He’s gonna regret sleeping through the day!”

You smile at his enthusiasm, enjoying the banter as you make your way back to the apartment.

----

The days zoom by in a blur of laughter and warmth, transforming what started as an uncertain arrangement into a comfortable home.

Your first few weeks are filled with shared meals and movie nights, late-night chats about everything from favorite foods to secrets. Heeseung’s easy-going charm and Jake’s playful energy bring out the best in you, and you find yourself laughing more than you ever thought possible.

When you finally meet their friends—Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jay—you feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. Ni-ki, in particular, is quick-witted and charming, but you shoot Heeseung a warning glare, determined to keep your near mishap with the leftovers under wraps. To your relief, he complies, stifling laughter as you all share stories and get to know one another.

It’s surprising how easily you fit into this lively group, your personality blending seamlessly with theirs. Sunghoon and Sunoo’s humor keeps the atmosphere light, while Jungwon’s gentle nature balances it out perfectly. You also introduce them to your friends Wonyoung, Yunjin, Kyrell, and Yeonjung, and the two groups meld effortlessly, laughter and teasing filling the air whenever you all hang out together.

Despite your busy schedules—your classes, Jake’s shifts at the pet store and smoothie shop, and Heeseung’s late nights at the bar and his job at the sports store—there’s always time for fun. You all make a point to coordinate your schedules, planning outings that range from shopping sprees to casual movie marathons at home.

Amidst the joyful chaos, there comes a time when you begin to question your place between Jake and Heeseung. It’s subtle at first, just fleeting moments that flit past your consciousness like shadows. They both treat you with a warmth that feels more intimate than just roommates or friends.

Jake’s flirtation is often lighthearted and playful, a gentle tease that leaves you smiling longer than you should. He’ll come up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he watches whatever show you’re binging, the warmth of his body brushing against yours making your heart race. “What do you think about this one?” he’ll ask, his voice light, but there’s an underlying sincerity in his gaze that leaves you pondering what’s really behind his casual demeanor.

Heeseung, on the other hand, has a more physical way of expressing his affection. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re washing dishes, his arms wrapping around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hums a tune. “What’s for dinner?” he’ll ask, his breath tickling your ear. The way he lingers there—so close, so familiar—sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like more than just a friendly embrace, a tenderness that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

It’s in these moments that you find yourself questioning the boundaries of your relationship. Are they just being friendly, or is there something deeper at play? You try to dismiss the thought, laughing off their behavior as just typical friend antics.

Then there are the times when Jake becomes almost puppy-like, trailing after you, eager to join in whatever you’re doing. “Can I help?” he’ll ask, hovering by your side while you prepare dinner, his eyes sparkling with excitement. There’s a softness in his gaze that makes you feel special, cherished in a way you hadn’t expected when you first moved in. And when you catch him stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat.

You wonder if they’re both feeling the same way, caught up in a strange blend of friendship and something more. The ambiguity weighs on you, and late at night, when you lie awake in your bed, you can’t help but replay their actions in your mind. Are you just imagining things? Do they see you as more than a roommate?

The days blend into a delightful routine, filled with laughter and playful banter. But beneath the surface, Jake and Heeseung have started to engage in a little game of their own, one that you’re blissfully unaware of. You can’t quite pinpoint when it began, but it becomes clear that they’ve both developed an interest in you that goes beyond friendship.

During one lazy afternoon, the three of you gather in the living room, the sun streaming through the large windows. You’re sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Jake plops down beside you. He leans over, peering at your pages with a mischievous grin. “You know, I could help you study,” he teases, his voice dropping to a lower, suggestive tone. “I’m a great tutor, especially with… hands-on experience.” You look up, caught off guard by his words, your cheeks flushing as you playfully shove him away.

Heeseung, who’s been lounging in the armchair across from you, raises an eyebrow. “What are you studying? Maybe I could lend a hand, too. I promise I won’t distract you—much.” He flashes you a charming smile that sends your heart racing, and you can’t help but laugh nervously, your mind racing as you try to focus on your book instead.

Later that week, you’re preparing dinner, humming to yourself as you chop vegetables. Suddenly, you feel a warm presence behind you. Jake sneaks up and leans against the counter, his arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Need a sous chef?” he asks, leaning closer, his voice low and teasing. “I can stir the pot and keep you company at the same time.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but the warmth of his body so close to yours sends a jolt through you.

“Yeah, because that’s what I need right now,” you respond, your tone light but your heart betraying you as it races.

Heeseung strolls in just then, a knowing smile on his face as he catches the two of you. “Am i interrupting something?” he chides playfully, arching an eyebrow at Jake. You feel your cheeks heat up as the playful banter continues, and you can’t help but feel like the center of attention, albeit in a way that leaves you both flustered and exhilarated.

What you don’t realize is that behind the scenes, a little competition has begun. Jake and Heeseung have started making bets on who can get your attention first, whispering and laughing about it when they think you can’t hear. “I’ll bet you a smoothie I can make her blush before dinner,” Jake declares one day, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Heeseung chuckles, countering with, “You’re on. But I’ll raise you—I’ll bet you can’t make her laugh while doing it.”

These little moments of rivalry only heighten the flirtation. One afternoon, you’re lounging in the living room when Heeseung walks in wearing a fitted shirt that highlights his toned physique. He notices you staring and grins, leaning casually against the wall. “What? You like what you see?” he asks, his voice dripping with playful confidence. You can’t help but feel your cheeks burn as you stammer a response, the heat creeping up your neck as you try to find words.

“Shut up, Heeseung,” you manage, your laughter mingling with embarrassment, but he only chuckles, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Then there are times when Jake gets a bit bolder. One evening, he finds you in your room, studying. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed, looking utterly relaxed yet undeniably handsome. “You know, if you need a study break, I’m really good at helping people… unwind,” he says, a teasing glint in his eye. You can feel your heart race, and your response gets caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily speechless.

As weeks turn into months, these playful exchanges become more frequent and more suggestive, leaving you in a constant state of fluster. They often playfully compete for your attention, showering you with flirty comments and lingering touches that send your heart racing.

It’s not just the comments that leave you flustered; it’s the way they both find excuses to be close to you. Jake will brush against you as he reaches for a snack, his fingers grazing yours in a way that feels charged with something more. Heeseung will lean in while you’re cooking, his breath warm against your neck as he whispers a playful remark, leaving you shivering with both surprise and delight.

One afternoon, after weeks of playful banter and flirtation from Jake and Heeseung, you decide it’s time to turn the tables. You’ve been thinking about how much fun it could be to throw a little flirting back their way, to see if they can handle a taste of their own medicine.

You wait until a Saturday when everyone is home. The living room is buzzing with energy as you all relax together, the sound of a movie playing softly in the background. Jake is sprawled across the couch, while Heeseung sits in the armchair, legs casually crossed and an easy smile on his face as he scrolls through his phone.

Feeling a rush of confidence, you take a deep breath and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms and adopting a playful smirk. “You know,” you begin, drawing their attention, “I could really use some help getting my grades up. Maybe I should schedule some one-on-one study sessions with the both of you.”

Jake looks up, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, and Heeseung’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “Oh? Are you sure you can handle all this help?” Jake quips, his tone teasing, but you can see the flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Just think of it as an opportunity to show me your expertise,” you reply, maintaining eye contact with both of them as you saunter closer. You can feel the charged atmosphere as you lean casually against the arm of the couch, inching closer to Jake. “I could use some practical lessons.”

Heeseung sits up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Practical lessons? Sounds like someone is trying to get a little more than just academic help,” he retorts, the hint of a challenge in his voice. You can tell he’s intrigued by your sudden boldness.

“Oh, I definitely am,” you say with a playful wink, enjoying the way both of them are momentarily taken aback. “But only if you can keep up with me.” You’re met with stunned silence, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve gone too far. But then, Jake bursts out laughing, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“You’re on!” he declares, shooting you a cocky grin that ignites a flutter in your stomach. “But just so you know, I’m not going to go easy on you.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes in mock defeat, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you can’t keep up.” His voice is low and teasing, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

As the afternoon unfolds, you continue to flirt playfully with both of them, tossing comments back and forth. You compliment Jake on his “impressive knowledge” of pop culture, leaning in just a bit too close as you whisper about how his recommendations have been “so helpful.” You watch as his cheeks flush, caught off guard by your boldness.

Heeseung, not to be outdone, makes his own moves. “You know,” he says, his voice smooth, “if you want to study hard, you might need to take some breaks. I could think of some fun activities to fill those breaks.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh at how easy it is to keep the teasing going.

The three of you end up in a lighthearted competition, each trying to out-flirt the other. You toss compliments like confetti, and they respond in kind, each line making the tension between you thick and exhilarating.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you two were so charming,” you remark, feigning innocence as you watch them squirm a little under your gaze. “Maybe I should have taken you up on that help sooner.”

Jake grins, leaning back against the couch with a newfound confidence. “Well, now you know. We can definitely provide the special assistance you need.”

You feel a rush of satisfaction at finally flipping the script. The laughter fills the room, punctuated by playful banter, and it feels good to see them flustered for a change, struggling to come up with responses to your flirty remarks.

Eventually, as the evening winds down, you sit back and bask in the warmth of their attention.

You’ve made your mark, and it’s clear that your flirty game has raised the stakes between you and your two charming roommates, setting the stage for whatever might come next.

----

The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting a warm glow as you returned home from work. Your phone buzzed with a notification, and you quickly glanced at the group chat. The excitement in the messages about a night out at a local club had your heart racing with anticipation. Without a second thought, you agreed to join, feeling a surge of energy at the prospect of a night filled with laughter and music.

You rushed to your closet, rifling through your clothes until you found the perfect outfit: a fitted black top that hugged your curves and a high-waisted skirt that accentuated your figure. You quickly changed and turned your attention to your makeup, after curling your hair into loose waves, you added a touch of glittering highlighter to your skin for that extra glow.

Grabbing a small, chic purse to carry your essentials, you made your way downstairs. As you descended, you spotted Heeseung standing in the living room, his back to you as he exchanged goodbyes with Jake, who lounged on the couch. Both of them turned as you approached, their expressions shifting from casual conversation to admiration.

Jake’s mouth fell slightly open, clearly impressed. “Where are you off to?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“The club,” you replied, a smile forming on your lips as you noticed the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on you.

Before you could say anything else, Heeseung quickly chimed in, “I can drive you.” He moved toward the closet, retrieving another helmet with a casual ease that made your heart flutter. The prospect of riding on his motorcycle sent a thrill through you.

You nodded, excitement bubbling in your chest as you took the helmet from him. After throwing on a short jacket to ward off the evening chill, you turned to Jake. “See you later!” you called out, waving goodbye. He still looked slightly dazed, clearly caught off guard by your transformation.

You followed Heeseung down to the parking lot, the anticipation of the ride sparking in the air around you. As he climbed onto his motorcycle, you felt a rush of adrenaline. You slipped on the helmet, securing it snugly before getting on behind him. As you wrapped your arms around his waist, the warmth of his body seeped through your jacket, and he started the bike, the engine rumbling beneath you.

With a twist of the throttle, you felt the bike lurch forward, and you leaned into Heeseung’s back as he expertly maneuvered through the streets. The cool wind whipped past, sending a shiver through your exposed skin, but you didn’t mind; the thrill of the ride was invigorating.

The ride to the club was quick, the familiar streets flying by as you soaked in the freedom of the moment.

As you both arrived at the club, the vibrant energy of the nightlife buzzed around you, the pulsing music spilling out into the cool evening air. You hopped off the motorcycle, feeling exhilarated, and removed your helmet, shaking your hair loose and letting it cascade down. Just then, a group of drunken guys standing outside caught sight of you, their eyes lighting up in appreciation.

“Hey there, beautiful!” one of them hollered, followed by a chorus of wolf whistles. “Looking good! I’d love to have you hugging me from behind like that!” Their comments were laced with crude humor, and you felt a grimace form on your lips as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

Before you could respond, Heeseung had already dismounted his bike, removing his helmet and stepping forward with a glare aimed at the group. “Back off!” he shouted, his tone sharp and commanding, making it clear he wouldn’t tolerate their disrespect. The guys exchanged wary glances but quickly retreated, their bravado faltering under Heeseung’s fierce expression.

You let out a small sigh of relief, thankful for his protective instinct, and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the entrance of the club. “Come on, you gotta clock in,” you urged, eager to escape the unwanted attention. As you reached the door, you noticed your friends waiting just outside, their faces lighting up at the sight of you.

With a friendly wave, you called out to them before turning back to Heeseung. The bouncer, recognizing him, waved you both through without hesitation, allowing you and your friends to enter the lively club atmosphere.

As you stepped inside, the beat of the music enveloped you, and the dazzling lights danced around the room, pulling you into the vibrant nightlife. Heeseung squeezed your hand gently before letting go, heading toward the bar to start his shift.

----

The night had unraveled into a blur of laughter, music, and drinks, with you and your friends dancing under the flashing lights, letting loose in a way you hadn’t in a while. You’d managed to get a couple of cheap—or even free—drinks thanks to Heeseung working behind the bar. Every time you looked over, he would give you a quick wink or a grin, sending another round your way.

And you weren’t short on attention either, noticing that a few guys in the club were more than happy to flirt. Their compliments and eager smiles were flattering, and you enjoyed the easygoing fun of it all. Still, as your friends leaned in to shout in your ear over the music, you noticed something: Heeseung’s gaze wasn’t just casually lingering. He was watching, his eyes sharp, his attention shifting from you to each new guy who tried his luck.

At one point, a guy offered to buy you a drink, and you agreed with a polite smile, following him over to the bar. As he ordered, Heeseung’s expression changed, his smile a touch too tight.

He set both drinks on the bar with an innocent smile, and you took a sip of yours, which tasted surprisingly perfect. But the guy next to you sputtered, coughing immediately as he spat his drink out, splattering a bit on your sleeve. He turned, red-faced, looking horrified.

“Why is this so… spicy?” he demanded, voice hoarse. Heeseung kept his face impassive, busying himself with a rag and the counter.

You couldn’t hold back a giggle as you watched Heeseung discreetly nudge the hot sauce bottle further under the counter, his lips twitching into a smile as the guy stomped off, grumbling. Not a minute later, you headed for the restroom, shaking your head in amusement at Heeseung’s antics.

In the quiet of the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You slipped off your jacket, draping it over a nearby hook, revealing the full outfit you'd carefully chosen for tonight. The cool air in the room brushed against your exposed skin, a reminder of how much thought you'd put into tonight's look.

You ran a hand over your clothes, smoothing out any creases, then turned to check your makeup. With a practiced hand, you reapplied a touch of lip gloss and adjusted your eyeliner.

As you strolled back into the club, the pulsing lights and thumping bass surrounded you, momentarily drowning out your thoughts. You barely glanced at the guy from earlier, who was now fully engrossed in conversation with another girl, when your gaze was irresistibly drawn to the bar.

There stood Heeseung and Jake, leaning casually against the polished counter. Jake wore a pair of fitted jeans that hugged his form just right and a simple shirt that accentuated his toned physique. His hair was pushed back effortlessly. Heeseung was a perfect match, dressed in jeans as well, but opted for a sleek black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His hair was also slicked back now.

The moment they turned their attention to you, their eyes locked onto you with an intensity that left you momentarily breathless. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of surprise and excitement at seeing them both here, looking so undeniably handsome.

Heeseung’s gaze was unblinking, a flicker of something bold and daring mixed in with his usual confident smirk. His posture was casual, one hand braced against the bar while the other rested on his hip, but his eyes… they seemed to trace over you with a slow, almost deliberate sweep, lingering a second too long. The defiance in his smirk spoke volumes, as if daring anyone else to look at you the way he was. There was a possessive glint in his eyes, as if he was barely holding himself back from reaching out.

Then there was Jake, whose gaze held a different kind of heat. His eyes softened as they traveled from your face down to your outfit, then back up. He took in every detail—your makeup, the way your clothes clung to your figure, the glint of confidence in your eyes. When he met your gaze again, his lips curled into a grin, the warmth of his smile undercut by the intensity in his eyes. It was as though he was studying every inch of you, and his lips curved, like he knew exactly how captivating he found you.

You caught a brief exchange of glances between the two of them, each sizing up the other’s reaction, before they turned their focus back to you, their eyes following every step you took. Their shared gaze left you feeling bare, like they were both trying to pull you closer without needing to say a word.

“Well, well, here comes trouble,” Jake teased, his voice low and smooth, though the smile he wore was anything but innocent. He raised his glass to you, his eyes reflecting that warmth that always made you feel seen—but there was something else tonight, a sharper edge to the way he looked at you, as if he was waiting to see how you’d respond to their attention.

Heeseung’s smirk only deepened, a spark of mischief flickering in his gaze as he straightened a little, his posture shifting subtly closer. He kept his eyes locked on yours, every part of him seemed to radiate a daring energy, as though daring you to close the distance between you.

With a steadying breath, you made your way to the bar, fully aware of Jake and Heeseung's gazes. As you reached them, Heeseung leaned forward, elbows propped on the bar, his smirk never faltering, while Jake wasted no time slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you close with that effortless charm he wore so well.

"Dressed to impress,” Heeseung drawled, his tone laced with amusement as he gave you another lingering look, head tilting as if to take in every inch. “Gonna be a distraction all night, aren’t you?”

Jake tightened his hold on your waist, bringing you even closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “He’s just jealous because you look this good, and he’s stuck working.” His voice was smooth, and his breath sent a warm shiver down your neck. “Right, Heeseung?”

Heeseung scoffed but didn’t pull back, the gleam in his eyes only intensifying. “I think I’ll manage,” he shot back, but his eyes never left you, tracing the subtle way you leaned into Jake’s embrace. “Besides, it looks like you’re already in good hands.”

Feeling bold, you turned to face Heeseung fully, resting one hand on the counter as you smiled, the challenge in your eyes clear. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Only if you’d do something about it,” he replied, his gaze unflinching, taunting. He reached over, his fingers brushing lightly over yours where they rested on the bar. “Think you could handle both of us?”

Before you could respond, Jake chuckled softly, his arm around you tightening, as he glanced over at Heeseung. “Oh, she can handle anything we throw at her,” he teased, his eyes locking on yours with a hint of something darker. “Right?”

You laughed softly, finding yourself delighting in their attention, the playful tension between them only adding to the thrill. Heeseung shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, while Jake’s fingers absently traced along your waist, making it clear he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

You leaned closer to Jake, letting him feel the warmth of your smile against his cheek. “Oh, I can handle you two just fine,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but you knew they both heard it. The shift in their expressions told you enough—they were both thoroughly captivated.

Heeseung exhaled a low laugh, eyes twinkling with intrigue, while Jake’s hand at your waist stilled, his grip firm, like he wasn’t about to let you out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Jake tilted his head just slightly, the corners of his mouth curving up in a half-smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice low, almost daring. He let his gaze drift slowly over your face, down to your lips, and then back to your eyes.

Heeseung watched, clearly enjoying the exchange, a slow, amused grin spreading across his face. He leaned across the bar, his gaze locked on yours as he teased, “Guess we’ll have to test that out, then. Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable.” His voice was smooth, the subtle challenge in his words matched by the spark in his eyes.

Feeling both their gazes, you couldn’t help the little smile that played on your lips. You leaned slightly closer to Jake, keeping eye contact with Heeseung as you replied, “Maybe it’s you two who won’t be able to keep up.”

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, but his eyes never left you, even as he responded, “We’ll see about that.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained but also intrigued, and he nodded in agreement, watching as Jake held you close. With an easy grin, he said, “I think you’ll keep us busy.” He reached out to hand you a drink, fingers brushing against yours in the brief exchange, his eyes lingering on you.

You took a sip, feeling their attention wrap around you like a warmth that made the crowded club fall away.

Just as Jake’s hand tightened on your waist, you felt a tug from behind—your friends, appearing at just the right moment, grinning as they coaxed you toward the dance floor.

“Come on!” they called, laughter in their voices. Before either Jake or Heeseung could react, you slipped from Jake’s hold with a wink. Both of them stared after you, looking mildly stunned—and maybe just a bit thrown off by how easily you’d gotten away. Jake tried to reach for you, a playful protest on his lips, but your friends swept you into their midst, pulling you into the rhythm of the music.

On the dance floor, you let yourself get lost in the energy, moving in time with the pulsing beat. You stole a glance back at the bar, where both Heeseung and Jake were watching intently, as if sizing up their next move. Heeseung raised his drink to you, that confident smirk still plastered on his face, while Jake looked torn between amusement and a slight, playful irritation at your escape.

Laughing, you lost yourself in the music, feeling their gazes follow your every move.

----

The night took an unexpected turn when one of your friends became a little too enthusiastic with the drinks. Before you knew it, she was outside, hunched over on the sidewalk, throwing up. You quickly moved to her side, pulling her hair back and rubbing her shoulder, doing your best to soothe her as she mumbled apologies.

Once she was done, the group decided it was best to get her home. You all piled into a car, the designated driver taking the wheel while the rest of you kept a close eye on your friend.

When you reached her place, you carefully helped her inside, guiding her up to her bedroom and laying her down, making sure she was comfortable. With her settled, someone found a stash of drinks in the kitchen, and before long, the vibe had lightened back up. One friend pulled out a karaoke machine, and soon everyone was singing loud, off-key renditions of your favorite songs, letting the night carry you all along.

As the hours ticked by, one by one, everyone found a cozy spot to curl up, and before you knew it, the house was filled with the soft sounds of snores and murmured dreams, a blur of a night settling into a peaceful sleep.

----

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and the usual regret that came with a night like this. Squinting against the morning light filtering in through the window, you groaned, reaching for your phone. Your notifications were littered with messages and missed calls from both Jake and Heeseung. You smiled a little, heart warming at their worry, even if it made you feel a bit guilty.

You dialed Jake’s number, and he answered almost immediately. “Where are you?” he asked, his voice filled with relief and lingering worry. “Are you okay?”

"Yeah, I’m okay," you mumbled, rubbing your forehead. “I’m at my friend’s place. She got a bit… too drunk, so we crashed here for the night.”

Jake exhaled, sounding both relieved and a little exasperated. “Alright, just hang tight. I’ll come get you.”

You thanked him, already feeling a bit better just knowing he’d be there soon. After the call, you stumbled to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and downing some Advil. You checked on your friends, giving soft goodbyes to those who were half-awake and murmuring farewells to the ones still knocked out.

Stepping outside, you saw Jake’s car pull up, and you hurried over to climb in. As you slipped into the backseat, you noticed both Jake and Heeseung in the front seats, eyes full of concern as they looked you over.

“Good?” Jake asked, glancing up and down to check on you. You nodded, managing a small smile as he pulled away from the curb.

When you finally got back home, Jake parked and turned to open your door, but Heeseung beat him to it, sweeping you up in his arms so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot on the pavement. You laughed, feeling a bit like royalty as Jake carried your heels and purse alongside.

Once inside, they led you straight to the bathroom, letting you shower and wash away the remnants of the night. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but feel grateful, a smile spreading across your face as you let the hot water soothe away the morning’s aches.

After finishing your shower, you called out for one of them to bring you some clothes. “Hey, could you grab me something to wear?”

A moment later, Heeseung’s voice came through the slightly cracked bathroom door. “I got you.” You heard a rustling, and then he slid a pile of clothes through the gap. You reached out, taking them gratefully.

“Thanks!” you replied, quickly pulling on the comfy oversized shirt and sweatpants. Once you had dried your hair with a towel, you opened the bathroom door to find both Jake and Heeseung sprawled out on the couch, looking cozy under a soft blanket.

You joined them, settling down in the middle, feeling the warmth radiating from both of them. They shifted slightly, making room for you as you grabbed some popcorn from the bowl resting on Jake's lap. The familiar comfort of their presence wrapped around you like a warm hug, and you let out a content sigh as you nestled deeper into the cushions.

The movie played on, but your eyelids grew heavier by the minute. The soft light from the screen flickered in the dim room, casting gentle shadows over their faces. You leaned your head against Heeseung's shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you.

As the movie continued, you felt Jake's hand brush against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, a comforting gesture that lulled you further into relaxation.

Eventually, the movie ended, and you barely noticed Jake turning it off. Heeseung glanced down at you, noticing how peaceful you looked, and he exchanged a knowing look with Jake. They both smiled softly before leaning back against the couch, pulling you with them.

Before long, the three of you were all asleep, the quiet hum of the world outside fading into a blissful silence as you cuddled together.

----

The atmosphere in your room was relaxed and comfortable as the three of you lounged together, the glow of fairy lights casting a soft ambiance. You felt a sense of warmth and belonging, but there was an unspoken question hanging in the air—what was this dynamic you had built with Jake and Heeseung?

After a while, you turned to them, curiosity piquing your interest. “So, what do we call this? This… thing we have going on?”

They both exchanged glances, a playful light dancing in their eyes before they climbed into your bed. Heeseung settled on your right side, while Jake nestled to your left, and you found yourself sandwiched between them.

“We like you a lot,” Heeseung confessed, his voice low and sincere, “and we’d love to have you for ourselves. But we also don’t want to see you with any other guy.”

Jake nodded, chiming in, “Yeah, same here. We both want you.” He paused, his expression serious. “At the end of the day, we’d rather share you than lose you to someone else.”

Your heart raced as you processed their words. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through you at their admissions. “But wouldn’t one of you get jealous of the other?”

“No,” Heeseung said, his tone firm yet gentle. “We both love you, and that’s what matters. You belong to both of us.”

As you gazed at them, a flutter of excitement and apprehension filled your chest. “I— I’ve been unsure about this. It feels wrong to like two friends at the same time.”

Jake pouted, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “Doesn’t seem wrong if we like you at the same time,” he reasoned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You found your gaze drawn to his lips, swallowing hard. The tension in the room shifted, and Heeseung noticed, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “Looks like someone’s interested,” he quipped, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“I am not—” you started to protest, but before you could finish, Jake leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips pressed against yours, soft yet insistent, and you gasped in surprise before instinctively kissing him back.

The moment was electric, and as Jake deepened the kiss, Heeseung leaned closer, trailing kisses along your throat. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as he nipped playfully at your skin, and you couldn’t help but let out another gasp, caught between the two of them.

Jake pulled back from the kiss, his grin widening as his gaze landed on the marks Heeseung had left on your throat and the exposed skin of your shoulder. The contrast of their playful possessiveness sent a thrill coursing through you, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“We have to show you that you’re ours,” he declared, his voice laced with a mix of mischief and determination.

Before you could fully process what that meant, both of them leaned in closer, their intentions clear. You gasped as Heeseung pressed his lips against your neck, his mouth warm and insistent as he began to leave his mark. Jake mirrored his actions on the other side, nipping and kissing a trail that made your head spin.

You whimpered at the sensation, the combined heat of their mouths igniting a fire deep within you. Your fingers tangled in their hair, gripping tightly as you succumbed to the intoxicating wave of pleasure and need. The soft sounds of your enjoyment filled the room, and you could hardly think straight as they lavished attention on your sensitive skin.

“Yours,” you breathed out, the word slipping from your lips as they continued their ministrations, creating a symphony of sweet tension and fervent desire. Each gentle tug and nibble sent shivers racing through you, and you could feel your heart pounding in rhythm with their touches.

“Just like this,” Heeseung murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. “You’re ours.”

Jake's hands roamed down your arms, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin, amplifying the sensations coursing through you. The way they worked together, each touch calculated yet spontaneous, made you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

Heeseung's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against yours. You instinctively grabbed his bicep, fingers digging into the firm muscles as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the moment. It felt right; the heat between you was undeniable, intoxicating. His kisses were fervent, each one making you crave more, driving you to the brink of madness.

Meanwhile, Jake positioned himself on the other side, his fingers weaving into your hair as he leaned in to claim your now vacant lips as well. The sensation of his mouth on yours was electrifying, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Your grip tightened around his neck, anchoring yourself as he kissed you with a mix of urgency and devotion.

In that tangled mess of limbs and kisses, they continued to explore every inch of your skin they could reach, marking you with their lips and leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Heeseung's kisses danced along your collarbone, trailing lower to your shoulder, each gentle nibble igniting a new spark of desire. His hands roamed your sides, fingertips brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, teasingly inching upward as if he were mapping out every curve of your body.

Jake, on the other hand, his hands glided down your back, holding you against him as if he never wanted to let go. He would pull you closer, the heat radiating off him intoxicating. With each kiss he pressed to your lips, he’d angle your head just right, deepening the kiss and making you melt.

As Heeseung’s mouth found its way back to yours, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue teasingly brushing against yours. It was playful yet fervent, drawing soft moans from you as you surrendered to the sensations. Your hands were restless, instinctively roaming to their arms, gripping tightly as you sought to anchor yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

With every caress, they exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement to share this moment entirely. Jake leaned down, kissing a path from your shoulder to your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin while Heeseung took his turn, trailing kisses down your jawline. You gasped at the sensations, feeling completely lost in the ecstasy of it all.

“We’ll take care of you.” Heeseung murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear.

Jake’s hand slipped beneath your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin, sending shivers coursing through your body. “Yeah, we’re not letting you out of our sight,” he added, his tone both playful and serious.

Your mind raced with thoughts, a delightful confusion enveloping you as you relished in their attention. All you could focus on was the pleasure they were giving you, the way their bodies enveloped you.

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b0r3dtod3ath · 7 months ago

Note

hello :) will you write something fluffy with tashi duncan and reader? thanks!

Thanks for the request! I didn't really know what to write so here's a thing I created:

Tashi Duncan fluff alphabet:

Affection (How affectionate are they?)

Quite affectionate when in private but she still has problems with it. Sometimes in the evening after a long day she will come to you and let you hug her. In moments like this she fells weak but the comfort you provide her makes all problems go away.

Bonding (What's your favorite mutual bonding activity?)

You like when she teaches you how to play tennis. At first she didn't want to do it because she felt like she was obsessed with it before and it would ruin your relationship. When she finally gives in, she's the most gentle trainer ever. Delicately adjusts your posture, softly points out mistakes and how to fix them and gives you lots of praise. You make tennis feel like fun and not competition.

Cuddling (How do they like to cuddle?)

She loves cuddling while on the sofa or bed. In the beginning of the relationship she was always the big spoon but she eventually found comfort in being the small one from time to time.

Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She definitely wants to settle down. Insists on buying a house or at least a flat when the relationship gets more serious. She wouldn't let you clean and she wouldn't like to do it either so she would get a maid. If you like cooking, she's in love with it and the sight of you in the kitchen always makes her heart melt. She doesn't mind, if you don't.

Equal (Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

She's the dominant one but gives you a lot of space and is much softer than she was in previous relationships.

Fight (Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

She doesn't scream or throw hands when she's mad at something. She tends to say rude things or point out things that aren't necessary true. Once she notices she has hurt you she immediately tries to fix it. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what it was. I don't mean it, you know it.". She will try to hug you but if you need some time she will leave you alone.

Gifts (How do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

She loves giving you gifts. Matching jewellery!!! Anniversary? A ring. Got a promotion? Pearl earrings. Birthday? A diamond necklace that's more that you thought she can afford.

Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often? What are their hugs like?)

Quick hugs and a peck on a check in public. In private, every evening there's a cuddle session that ends in you two falling asleep.

I love you (Who said it first? How often do they say it?)

She said it first. You were the first person she had ever said it to. You were already dating for more than half a year and you knew that her not saying it didn't mean she didn't feel it. When she said it she felt very vulnerable but it's a sign that she trusts you endlessly.

Jealousy (How jealous do they get? Do they get jealous easily? What do they do when they are jealous?)

She gets jealous very easily. You usually notice it and calm her down. She would be very obvious - would tighten her grip on you or change her tone towards the third person.

Kiss (Do they like kissing? How often? What is their favorite type of kiss?)

She wouldn't say she enjoys kissing but she does. From small pecks to heated make outs. She loves your lips and would gift you lip balms to make them even softer. Her favourite thing is when you kiss her neck - it makes her melt.

Love language (What’s their love language?)

I think it's either quality time or gift giving. She's usually busy so when she gets a moment she loves to spend it with you and no distractions.

Morning (How are mornings spent with them? What’s their morning routine?)

Definitely slow mornings. Yoga or stretching together, a healthy breakfast and some time spent on the couch.

Nickname (What do they call you?)

Doesn't like nicknames but will call you love from time to time.

Obvious (How obvious is it that they like you?)

Very obvious. She changes her whole tone when she's around you. She becomes more soft. Big hearteyes. People can easily notice it.

PDA (Do they brag about you? Do they gatekeep you from others?)

She is very proud of you and will show you off all the time. Won't be really affectionate in public tho as she thinks it should be something between you two.

Quiet (How are the calm, quiet moments with them?)

Usually the mornings and evenings are really calm and quiet. You both have you routines that consist of some activities that you do together and some that you do alone. You two like to have soft music playing in the background.

Romance (How romantic are they? Cliche or creative?)

Very cliche. She would bring you flowers every week. Candle lit dinners are definitely something that happens regularly.

Security (Are they protective? How?)

Very protective and very jealous. God forbid someone looks at you in a wrong way, they are done. She won't leave you for even a second. If you get injured by any chance, she is more stressed than you are.

Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

She doesn't like talking about tennis. She feels like it ruined her relationships in the past.

Understanding (How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

She can usually sense something is not okay but can't really tell what. She doesn't always fully understand you but tries her best and believes in communication.

Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Depends. If she's going out than she always tries to make herself look good. But when it's only you two she doesn't mind not being the prettiest. She loves matching outfits with you.

Warrior (Would they fight for you?)

Definitely. Maybe not always with hands, but she would for sure scream or say some pretty rude things if someone hurt you.

X-ray (How well are they able to read you?)

Like I said, she tries but prefers to ask you rather than assume how you feel.

Yes (Would they and how would they propose?)

She loves the idea of her and you creating a family. She would buy a diamond ring and have it hidden for months. She wouldn't make a big deal out of it and plan it. She waits for a good, calm moment and one evening while you are in the garden she just pops the question.

Zen (What calms them down?)

When she can lay her head on you chest and feel your heartbeat. She loves to listen about your day as you lay and caress her back.

April 28, 2024

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #challengers imagine #challengers x reader #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan imagine #zendaya x reader

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justlookfrightened · 1 month ago

Text

A trip back in time

Filling a prompt from @notenoughgatorade: The haus gang goes to a renfaire

King Richards Faire opens the weekend we get back to Samwell!!!!

Bitty had no idea what King Richard’s Faire was, much less why Holster was assaulting the group chat with four exclamation points.

Ransom, however, appeared to get it.

Road trip! Ransom responded.

Bitty thought about asking what this was, where it was or why Ransom and Holster wanted to road trip there. He thought about asking, but doing so in the group chat would be letting himself in for even more humiliation, proving he was different than the rest of the team in yet another way.

He was small, he was southern, he didn’t play hockey until high school, he was gay, and oh yeah, he was terrified of being checked, which just happened to be a big part of the game he played to allow himself to afford going to college. And now he didn’t know what King Richard’s Faire was?

Bitty muted the group chat and shoved his phone into his shorts pocket; dinner was on the table, and Mama got cross if he was texting during dinner anyway.

Maybe he’d feel better with some food in his belly. That would probably make his headache go away. And maybe no one else would respond, it would go from a Haus road trip to a Ransom and Holster road trip, and Bitty would never have to betray his ignorance.

After dinner, he told Mama he had to start packing, and headed to his room. It wasn’t exactly true; he’d left all his winter stuff at Samwell, in the room Johnsn had deeded to him — dibbed to him? Was that a word? — which meant that he would be with the team pretty much 24-7.

And not just with the team. With the core of the team, the team leaders, the heart of the team, Coach would call them. Jack, the captain; Ransom and Holster, the top D-pair; and Shitty, who — well, everyone loved Shitty and was exasperated by Shitty in equal measure, but Shitty did seem to keep everyone in line when it came it social justice kinds of things.

It was Shitty who first adopted Bitty last year, followed by Ransom and Holster. Bitty had been a little afraid of the D-men, to be honest, especially about them finding out he was gay. But they loved his pies, and they had turned out to be like big brothers he never knew he wanted.

Even Jack had come around to accept Bitty’s presence by the end of the season. If Jack wished Bitty spent less time in the Haus kitchen, Bitty was pretty sure it was only because he was hardass when it came to sugar, thinking less was always better.

Now, a week before he was set to head back north, he was starting to wonder whether living in the Haus was such a good idea. He hadn’t skated since the game where he got hurt (got bowled over by a behemoth, lost his helmet and crashed head first on the ice — a sequence he saw in his mind every time someone talked about him “getting hurt”). He had no idea what kind of a player he would be when he started practice, but he suspected that all the work Jack had done with him in all those early mornings had been undone.

How much patience would his teammates have?

Bitty pulled out his big duffle bag and started filling it with T-shirts and shorts from his clean laundry basket, then, once it looked like he had actually been packing, flopped on his bed and pulled out his phone.

Jack had chimed in next, with a reminder: We have practice that Monday

That was hopeful. Trust Jack to focus on hockey and why they were due in Samwell at the beginning of August.

Aw, c’mon, Cap! Shitty had contributed. It’ll be a team bonding experience.

Bitty knew then that he would have to find out about this King Richard’s Faire thing. If Shitty was calling Jack “Cap” it was all over.

Ugh.

Could be fun, Lardo had chipped in. Some people I know from the art department are working there on the weekends.

Lardo. Lardo — not at all an athletic bro — could be be Bitty’s salvation.

Bitty found her contact.

Help! I don’t know what King Richard’s Faire is! Why does everyone want to go?

By the end of the evening, Lardo had explained the concept of a Renaissance Faire to Bitty — food and drinks and jousts and plays and shopping and lots of people in costume and knights and ladies and fairies and even peasants — and it sounded like it might actually be fun.

It also didn’t sound like something that most of the sports bros Bitty had grown up with would do.

It sounds kind of — I know I’m not supposed to say this but kind of girly, Bitty said. And like, something maybe the theater kids would do? And maybe the stoners who played D and D?

At that, Bitty’s phone rang.

“Do you even know the Samwell Men’s Hockey team?” Lardo asked in lieu of saying hello. “Holster would be a musical theater guy if he could carry a tune, or dance, or act. Ransom is like crazy smart, and he needs stuff completely out of his zone to get him to relax. I’m gonna have to do my best to keep Shitty from dressing a serving wench — or maybe I won’t, the actual serving wenches will find it hilarious.”

“And Jack?” Bitty asked. “I mean, even he didn’t think it was a terrible idea. I don’t think. You’re going to tell me he liked the history of it all?”

“Not really,” Lardo said. “Although he does like pointing out all the anachronisms, including, y’know, food safety standards and age limits for buying alcohol.”

“You’ve been with him before?” Bitty asked. Because he didn’t remember being invited to such an outing last year. Lardo hadn’t even been in the country.

“This one is only in the fall, but there’s another one in the spring,” Lardo said. “Shitty and Jack and I went at the end of my first year. It was fun. You’ll like it. I promise.”

So Bitty added his approval to the group chat, hoping his, Sounds like fun! Sounded enthusiastic enough.

Bitty didn’t precisely forget about the renaissance fair for the rest of the week, but he put it out of his mind while reassuring his mother that he had enough underwear and yes, he intended to go with this haircut and no, he didn’t want to get the top cut short.

Returning to the Haus ended up helping put some of Bitty’s fears to rest. The guys in the Haus welcomed him back with open arms. The complimented his haircut, pretended to be impressed with the development of his muscles — with no skating, he had plenty of time to spend in the gym over the summer — and followed his instructions to get a “welcome back” dinner together, punctuated with a birthday pie for Jack.

Even Jack smiled when he saw Bitty, and took the case of beer Shitty had thrust at him to the basement fridge with no complaints.

Before bed that night, before she disappeared to sleep on the air mattress in Shitty’s room, Lardo told Bitty not to worry about a costume. “You can wear a pair of your athletic leggings, and I brought a big shirt you can wear like a tunic. I don’t suppose you have boots?”

“Boots?” Bitty asked. “Costume? You didn’t say I had to wear a costume.”

“You don’t have to,” Lardo said. “But I’m wearing one — like what I brought for you — and Shitty’s going as a pirate. I bet Random and Holster have costumes.”

“Really?” Bitty said.

“Holster said something about royalty,” Lardo said. “You know how over the top they are.”

The next morning, Bitty pulled on a pair of black leggings and a white T-shirt before Lardo knocked on the door and handed him an oversized ruffled shirt.

“Theater department costume room,” she explained. She looked at him with a critical eye. “Do you have a vest or anything? Or a belt?”

“I have a belt,” Bitty said.

“Give it to me,” she said, then wrapped it a little below Bitty’s waist, blousing the fabric of Bitty’s shirt artfully.

By the time the group assembled next to Holster’s old minivan, everyone was in costume except Jack. Shitty, as promised, was a pirate, complete with an eye patch and knee-high boots. Holster was indeed in cheap-looking king costume, probably from a Halloween catalog, and Ransom was an improbable queen. Lardo was dressed much like Bitty, although she had motorcycle boots and had painted her face and glued crystals under and next to her eyes.

“What are you?” Bitty asked.

“A fae,” Lardo said.

Jack wore his usual form-fitting jeans and a snug black T-shirt. When Bitty arrived, he thought Jack’s look lingered on him longer than usual, and fancied that Jack was suppressing the urge to shake his head at the silliness of it all.

“You couldn’t even try to get into the spirit of the day?” Holster asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Jack shrugged.

“This is me in the spirit,” he said. “I’m here.”

Ransom called shotgun, and Shitty and Lardo dove for the back, leaving the middle seats for Jack and Bitty.

“I think you look fine,” Bitty murmured as he leaned over to fasten his seatbelt. “I think I’m kind of ridiculous.”

“You look fine,” Jack returned, giving Bitty a reassuring smile. “You’ll fit right in. You don’t think Lardo would steer you wrong, do you?”

“What are you looking forward to the most?” Bitty asked. “I was thinking about the food — they say the turkey legs are the size of my head! Plenty of protein, I guess.”

“Almost,” Jack said. “But you know a lot of the food is modern. They even have soda.”

Jack seemed personally affronted by that.

“Not like they can serve mead to ten-year-olds,” Ransom pointed out from the front seat.

With the bantering that went on in the car, Bitty realized that he needn’t have worried that he didn’t know what would happen at a renaissance fair. With all the talk about what they were looking forward to, Bitty was pretty clear on what he would find: A lot of people pretending to be in Merrie Olde Englande, complete with extra e’s at the end, watching all kinds of performances from singing to animal acts, plus stage-fighting with swords and jousting on horseback. There were games of skill — mostly throwing things at targets, it sounded like — and simple, non-motorized rides like swings.

Lardo wanted to look at the artisans’ stalls — she was especially interested in the blacksmithing demonstration — and Shitty and the rest of the boys were looking forward to the tavern, and the serving wenches.

“They’ll put you out on your ass if you don’t behave,” Lardo warned them.

“We always behave,” Shitty said. “At least when it comes to not being disgusting pigs to women who are just trying to do their jobs, right, boys?

Ransom and Holster rolled their eyes, but agreed, and Bitty had a moment of being proud of the team he had become part of.

While the food would not be strictly period-accurate, Bitty was looking forward to trying some of the meat pies. He’d been wanting to incorporate more savories into his baking.

Once they piled out of the car and made it through the admission booths, Bitty found his eyes darting from the crowd, full of archers and knights and ladies and nobles, and, yes, woodland fairies with antlers on their heads and elves with long pointed ears.

He couldn’t always tell who was a guest and who was a cast member, although he assumed the jester who juggled while he walked and the man in doublet and hose standing on a box and declaiming poetry both worked there.

His costume did not stand out at all — if anything, it was a little basic, but there were plenty of people like Jack who hadn’t dressed up.

The booths and stalls and signposts were bedecked with flowers and ribbons, and the signs were hand painted and not always easy to read. Bitty found his head starting to swim, until he recognized the smell of baking pastry, and beef.

There was a pie stall right next to the entrance, so Bitty got in line. It wasn’t until he was close to the front that he realized most of his group had melted away. Only Jack stood next to him.

“You wanted pie too?” Bitty said.

“I’m holding out for a turkey leg,” Jack said. “Maybe we can get one after you get your pie? Then walk around and eat and figure out what we want to do? Lardo and Shitty said they were going to Artisan Alley, wherever that is, and I think Ransom and Holster said something about a strongman competition?”

“That would appeal to them,” Bitty agreed.

He ended up with two pies — chicken and beef, with vegetables and gravy — and a plastic tankard of ginger beer, which he suspected was really just ginger ale.

He and Jack made their way through the fairgrounds to the stand that sold turkey legs, noting places they’d like to go back to. It was never too early for Christmas presents, and there was a woolen shop that had shawls he thought Mama would like, right at the top of the row of shopping stalls, and Jack said he wanted to try his hand at throwing a wooden ball to knock down pins.

The line for turkey legs was long, and by the time they got to the front, he and Jack had finished both pies, trading bites. They were hot, which was good, but Bitty thought he could make better gravy, especially for the chicken, and come up with better seasonings. The pastry cases were crumbly, rather than flaky, but Bitty supposed they had to be sturdy enough for people to eat with their hands as they wandered.

“I thought they were good,” Jack said, popping the last bit of the beef pie into his mouth and sucking the remaining gravy off his thumb. “You want a turkey leg?”

“I couldn’t,” Bitty said. “Not yet.”

“You can have some of mine,” Jack promised.

Once they were again provisioned, they set off for the tournament field, where Holster and Ransom were indeed engaged in a contest to see who could lift the heaviest log. They did well, with Jack and Bitty cheering as loudly as they could, but a huge man wearing nothing but knee breeches and an open leather vest won.

“He was a ringer,” said Holster, breathing hard, as he pulled his crown back on.

He looked at Jack, tearing a mouthful of meat off the turkey leg, and said, “You almost fit right in. You know they rent costumes, right?”

“I’m fine,” Jack said.

Bitty, eating the meat he had pulled off the turkey leg with his fingers, said, “I dunno, Jack. You’d make a great Prince Charming.”

Because he looked like every Prince Charming in every Disney movie Bitty had ever seen, with his dark hair and blue eyes and pale skin. Not because Bitty thought of Jack as his own Prince Charming. That way, he knew, madness lay.

“So what do you think, Bitty?” Ransom asked. “Is it everything we promised?”

“So far,” Bitty said. “But all I’ve really done is eat and watch you try to pick up a tree. You want to find Lardo and Shitty?”

Horns blared, and Holster said, “The tournament’s starting. Let’s watch that, then see if we can find them before the Royal Parade at noon.”

“You guys go ahead,” Jack said. “I … want to see Lardo about something.”

Ransom and Holster stood on either side of Bitty, watching the knights on horseback thunder around the field, draped in colorful cloth matching the flags the knights on their backs carried. Then the knights took long poles and they ran at each other, narrowly missing each time, while the crowd around the field cheered. Finally, the queen — seated in a raised pavilion on the other side of the field — declared a winner by dropping a scarf to one of the knights, and the horses left the field.

“That means they’re getting ready for the parade,” Holster said. “Let’s find the others.”

Shitty and Lardo were saving space near the top of Artisan Alley, right in front of the woolen shop.

“You guys seen Jack?” Bitty asked. “He was looking for you.”

“He was at the leatherworker’s booth,” Shitty said. “Said he had something to show you, after the parade. But I thought he was going to meet us here.”

The same horns that had signaled the start of the tournament sounded again. There was a band coming, and a group of jugglers and acrobats, then all the knights riding slowly down the road, bowing to the people on each side.

At the end came the king and queen, seated on thrones on a horse-drawn float, preceded by ladies in their finery scattering flower petals.

Bitty finally caught sight of Jack on the other side of the road when the parade passed. He was still wearing the jeans and short black boots he’d started with, but he’d added a sleeveless dark blue tunic with a wide leather belt, and a blue, red and gold satiny cape.

“Good enough for you?” Jack asked, as the group crossed the dusty road, eyeing everyone before settling his gaze on Bitty.

“Oh, Jack, you know you didn’t have to,” Bitty said, suddenly feeling guilty in case he’d made Jack uncomfortable.

“But brah, you do look amazeballs,” Shitty said.

“Yeah, dude,” Ransom said. “Like, I have this whole costume on, and you add a shirt and a cape and somehow look better.”

Lardo just nodded in approval.

“So,” Holster said. “As your king, I declare Jack to be a noble of the realm. And I declare that it’s time for lunch.”

Holsted led the way to a restaurant that actually featured chairs and tables and food served on dishes, and everyone fell in. Jack and Bitty brought up the rear.

“The costume really does look good,” Bitty said.

“I actually got the belt first,” he said. “I bought that. At the leather shop. The cape and the tunic I rented. But I got you something too.”

Jack pulled a satchel that was hidden under the cape forward and opened it, and took out a laced leather vest.

“It’s called a jerkin,” he said.

Bitty almost snorted, but didn’t.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say that in front of … anyone else here. But I thought it would look good with the shirt you have on. And then if you come to one these again, you’ll have something to start with.”

Jacks cheeks were pink when he finished his little speech.

“Jack,” Bitty said, feeling his own cheeks flame in response. “You really, really didn’t have to. You know that, right?”

But he was already pulling the vest on and tightening the laces, making a snug bodice to contrast with the billowy sleeves and collar. The shirttails almost looked like a skirt coming out from under his belt.

“What do you think?” Jack asked.

“I … really like it,” Bitty said. He felt less like a kid in a nightgown this way, more like a proper boy.

“You look good,” Jack said.

Then they went in to join the others, who had already ordered platter of such medieval fair as nachos and chicken fingers.

“Looking good, Bits,” Lardo said, when Bitty sat on the bench next to her.

The beer came by the pitcher, and Bitty indulged with his friends, and then joined them as they spent the next several hours laughing at a slapstick comedy show, getting their caricatures drawn in all sorts of combinations, and helping Holster choose the perfect sword to complement his costume.

Lardo came with him to buy a shawl for his mother, helping him choose a soft blue and gray pattern that she said went with his brown eyes.

“Your mother has your coloring, right?” Lardo asked. “This will look nice, then, Maybe not as nice as that jerkin, but …”

Bitty huffed and turned away in pretend annoyance. To be honest, he liked knowing Lardo agreed that it looked good. She wouldn’t lie about that.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, after he paid and they were on their way to join the group for the last joust of the day. “Do you know why Jack bought this for me?”

“Because he thought you’d like it?”

“Lardo, I’m serious. I saw what the prices were like in that shop. Why would he do that?”

“It’s not like he told me,” Lardo said. “But he did show it to me and ask if I thought it would fit. I think … he likes you, Bits, and he’s worried about you.”

Because Jack didn’t think he’d be able to play this season?

Lardo continued as though Bitty had voiced his question.

“He thought you seemed … nervous, I guess, about moving into the Haus, being the new guy, all of that,” Lardo said. “And this is a team bonding activity. Might as well dress the part.”

“Is that why he got himself a costume too?”

“I guess,” Lardo said. “You could ask him.”

By the time the sun was sinking towards the west, the team was tired and cranky and ready to leave. Holster, who had partaken of much more beer than Jack, gave up the car keys without a fight (thank God, Bitty thought) and he and Ransom collapsed on top of each other in the back seat. Lardo and Shitty took the middle, leaving Bitty to ride shotgun while Jack drove.

The car was quiet, with most everybody sleeping or just looking out at the New England evening. Jack played what Bitty thought of as “dad rock” and hummed along, almost inaudibly, until Bitty said, “Lardo said you were worried about me.”

Jack made a noise that showed he heard, but didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry if you’ve been concerned,” Bitty said. “I’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Jack said. “But it’s nothing to apologize for. You’ll be fine, and if you’re not, I — we’ll all be here to support you until you are. I know moving into the Haus — it’s like being new on the team again, in a way. We need to make sure you know we have your back.”

“By buying me clothes?” Bitty asked.

“Whatever it takes,” Jack said. “Even putting on a costume myself.”

“You didn’t have to,” Bitty said, even though he knew he was repeating himself. Then he fell silent, wondering if his head was more muddled than he thought.

“I know,” Jack said. “But it seemed like it might be fun.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “It’s fun to be part of the group sometimes. As long as it’s a group you like.”

“I think so too,” Bitty said.

Jack hummed along to the song about a horse with no name, and Bitty thought about what it meant to be part of the group, and what it meant that Jack had wanted Bitty to feel like he belonged.

It was team bonding, of course. And it was Haus bonding. But Bitty felt like maybe, maybe it was something more.

#zimbits #omg check please #omgcp #my fic #prompt fill

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quietly-sleeping · 5 months ago

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Sqh and sy as an established couple in their og world. System pulls an uh oh, since their world isn't following what it was supposed to to allow for sqh and sy to be pulled for plot maintenance. Decides to dump the peak lords into their living room and tell them, hey fix them? Maybe? Idk.

Sqh and sy have a minor panic attack because that is just a group of sqhs traumatized ocs, sy drags the system into another room for a talk. Sqh stares down the peak lords with pure "what even is my life" and kind of manages to talk enough with yqy that sy comes back and explains better what's going on.

System wants sqh and sy to do some emergency therapy essentially, and sy has bullshit it so that the peak lords will be returned to their world at the end of the month no matter what.

Peak lords are iffy, qi is very sparse in this world, and they need to be back at cqm for it to run and not be turned into a demon fun house. Sy assures them the system has allowed for no time to pass in pidw while they stay with sqh and sy.

Sj does not believe him, insists on speaking with the weird god thing himself. Gets to basically the same point with the system but wiggles area for negotiation for compensation for both parties once this is over. Sy declares he needs a goddamn nap, hands over some of his classic novels laying around, some of his clean romances, and points them to the indoor gym on their floor.

Sqh goes to take nap with his bf/husband, doesn't really matter, while the peak lords kick their feet for a bit. Sj is hella confused as to why some rich people, he assumes so since they are in a very tall building with a very spacious living quarters, would just let some randoms wander around in their house unsupervised.

They really wouldn't, but sy has used all of his brain power with the system and the sudden addition of like 8 ppl in his living room, and he wants to cuddle his bf, sue him.

Peak lords fuck around a bit, lqg chills out in the gym for a while, they don't have a lot of weights but more cardio machines and room for mats and ballet bars, lqg just uses his sword and goes through some forms, the other peak lords following him since getting separated in a strange world is not the thing to do.

Sy eventually wakes up and sqh helps him sleepily slap together something to eat while they figure out what the fuck to do. They eventually decide that since sy technically owns the building and they are the only occupants of the floor, to just let the peak Lords live in the other apartments. They aren't completely furnished, bare minimum, but they can get blankets and such if they need them.

The peak Lords don't really have an opinion since, they can't afford to have one any way they don't know shit about this place.

Uuuuh more things happen, bonding, forced proximity, system events such as not being able to lie for 24 hrs, to which sj stretches to the limit with the help of og!sqh, and like eventually they negotiate limit travel between worlds and such because like no, sj has attachment issues that he passes down onto bing-ge he's not about to let the one guy and his weird husband go just because they live in a different world, take notes yqy.

Og!sqh is like pre treason or something. Lbh has not yet touched down on qjp, and qqq is 100% attempting to get sy's meimei to join her peak.

Sy's meimei barged into the apartments while the peak Lords were having mandatory bookclub and introduced them to TV dramas. Lqg is hooked, because he can do things!! While listening to the plot!!

#3 am back on my bullshit #Cumplane #svsss #fanfic #mxtx svsss #shen yuan #shang qinghua #Entirely written on my phone im so sorry #Someone like shoot me or something #Ill fix this maybe when i awake once more

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clorvismaximus · 1 year ago

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Caring for Your Comedic Companion: A Guide to Proper Clown Care

Creating a Clown-Friendly Environment: The Chuckle Chamber

Clowns thrive in environments that stimulate their comedic instincts. Before adopting your clown, ensure you have a dedicated space in your home for them, commonly referred to as the "Chuckle Chamber." If you cannot afford to buy a new enclosure, an old tent painted with stripes can keep your clown happy for the first few months. Equip it with a variety of colorful props, oversized shoes, and a well-stocked assortment of rubber chickens. Ensure the Chuckle Chamber is spacious enough for your clown to express its natural exuberance.

Nutritional Needs: A Diet of Delightful Delicacies

Maintaining a well-balanced and joy-inducing diet is crucial for your clown's health. Offer a mix of cotton candy, popcorn, and custard pies to meet their nutritional needs. For hydration, a continuous supply of seltzer water is recommended. Regularly check for any allergies or sensitivities your clown may have to certain treats. Surprisingly, peanut allergies are common amongst certain breeds of clown.

Exercise and Enrichment: Laughter Workouts

Clowns are energetic beings that require regular exercise and mental stimulation. Engage your clown in laughter workouts, which can include juggling sessions, pratfall practice, and balloon animal sculpting. Introduce new comedic routines to keep their minds sharp and their spirits high.

Grooming: Maintaining the Mirthful Mane

Clown grooming is not just about appearance; it's an essential aspect of their well-being. Regularly check and clean oversized shoes to prevent slips, trim colorful wigs to maintain their vibrant allure, and ensure that the iconic red nose is kept in pristine condition. A well-groomed clown is a happy and confident one.

Veterinary Care: Honk-Checked Health Checks

Regular visits to a certified clown veterinarian are crucial to monitor your companion's health. These professionals specialize in honk-checked health checks, ensuring that your clown is in peak comedic condition. Vaccinations against gloom and routine screenings for joke deficiencies are standard procedures.

Socialization: Playdates with Fellow Funnymakers

Clowns are social beings that thrive on interaction with their own kind. Arrange playdates with fellow clowns to encourage socialization and the exchange of humorous antics. Attend clown conventions, where your companion can partake in the grandeur of collective laughter and collaborative performances.

Understanding Non-Verbal Communication: Mastering the Art of Clownish Signals

Clowns communicate primarily through non-verbal cues, such as honks, squeaks, and exaggerated gestures. Pay close attention to your clown's signals to gauge their mood and preferences. Understanding the art of clownish communication is key to fostering a strong bond with your comedic companion.

Celebrating Special Occasions: Clown Birthdays and Anniversaries

Marking special occasions in your clown's life adds a touch of festivity to their existence. Celebrate birthdays with a clown-sized cake and a chorus of joyous honks. Recognize adoption anniversaries with a memorable performance or a specially crafted routine to commemorate the time spent together.

Providing proper care to your beloved clowns is not just a responsibility but a joyful journey of shared laughter and merriment. By embracing the unique needs and whimsical nature of your clown companion, you'll cultivate a bond that transcends the ordinary, creating a lifetime of cherished comedic moments.

#clownery #clowncore #clown posting #clown art #clown #clown husbandry #Clowns #Unicycles #Parties #Pranksters #Jesters #Mimes #Clownblr #Clown care #Clownology #Clownologist

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littlecelestialmoth · 5 months ago

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Prompt: The blood dripping down his forehead was hot and sticky

Ao3

Relationships/Charecters: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley mentioned

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: Hurt & Comfort, pre-relationship, post-season 3, pre-season 4, depictions of canonical injuries, wound cleaning, grief surrounding being disabled, lots of domestic comfort okay

Thanks to Juniper for this prompt! (Xe don't have Tumblr rip)

The remnant feeling of smoke burned in his lungs and his eyes felt dry from when they had watered from the acidic fumes of the fireworks and burning flesh. The blood dripping down his forehead was hot and sticky and the left side of his face felt sore and swollen.

Steve knew he couldn't go home like this.

Even if his parents weren't home he couldn't be alone right now. Robin being taken home was bad enough but worse was the fact that Steve probably had his third consecutive concussion. At this point even in his delirious post high state knew falling asleep right now was a risk he can't afford.

His body feels heavy with exhaustion as he pulls himself into the Bimmer, but he knows the chances of his mind letting him sleep now are slim. The first weeks after Upside-Down incident are always filled with near sleepless nights. At least he doesn't have to worry about getting up for work anymore he resolves. He lets the engine run, feeling the cool air from the vents dry the tacky sweat on his face.

He knew if he didn't figure out a plan quick he'd end up falling asleep in his car in the Starcourt mall parking lot. The paramedics had insisted on taking him to get checked out at the hospital but he didn't want to leave Robin. It's a crazy world to live in now, Steve’s pretty sure he and Robin are bonded for life. His friends now consist of one Lesbian and a handful of middle schoolers. If King Steve could see him now.

Steve sighs at this thought. He couldn't go home with Robin and any of the kids are out of the question. Especially after last year's incident.

Traitorously his mind provides him with the image of another acquaintance, maybe almost friend, a sharp grin and dark curly hair.

Steve sets his head back on the headrest and groans. Robin's confession had led to thoughts of his own. The easy banter he had developed with the metalhead working in the game store across the way, about how it was surprisingly easy to get along with Eddie Munson now that he had fallen from his throne. He was starting to realize he was happier down below, surrounded by nerds. He was also starting to realize he very possibly had a type.

The way to Forest Hills wasn't familiar to him but not foreign either, back in the day he had gone with Tommy to make a home call at the Munson's residence for some harder drugs than what he carried around the school yard.

Steve paused again in the Bimmer, giving himself one last chance to excape. He knew Eddie was most likely home. He'd had a show with his band up in Bloomington last night and had taken off work for it well in advance, and the day after. It's all he'd been able to talk about these past few weeks.

Steve hauls himself up the trailer steps, taking a quick look to see if anyone else is home but Eddie. His van stands alone in the dying grass.

Steve knocks gently first. It's late but he's not sure if it's late enough for Eddie to be asleep or not.

After another minute he knocks a little louder and more urgent. A light flicks on in the far window and Steve hears the pounding steps of someone approaching the door from inside the trailer.

The door swings open.

“Jesus, what do you wa- what the fuck happened to you man?” Eddie exclaimes incredulously. It's at this moment Steve remembers he's still in his vomit and blood stains work mandated sailor suit.

Steve groans in pain, Eddie's volume pounding in his head.

“I have a concussion. I can't be alone right now.” Steve explains, he doesn't have the energy to say much more right now.

“Okay, okay shit man, why didn't you go home or to a Hospital?” Eddie asks, gently pulling him into the trailer.

“M' parents are home, can't.” Steve closes his eyes for a moment and remembers he isn't supposed to do that. Eddie guides him over to the couch and hesitantly has him sit down.

“I'll get you some clothes and the first aid kit, you're not meant to fall asleep okay? I need to try and figure out how bad your concussion is.” Eddie says, crouched down in front of Steve, briefly checking him over. His eyebrows are furrowed and Steve’s knocked around brain supplies that Eddie is pretty when he's all concerned with his wide deep brown eyes.

“It's pretty bad.” Steve provides, trying to stop himself from sluring his words. Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder briefly.

“Even more of a reason for you to stay awake sweetheart, I'll be right back.” Eddie stands and walks to the back of the trailer.

Steve leans his head back on the couch and regrets it pretty quickly. His brain feels like it's capable of sliding around in his skull like it's on ice. He turns his head, curling into the couch a little in an attempt to relieve the pain. The left side of his face throbs as he thinks. He doesn't let himself close his eyes but it's a near thing.

He vaguely registers Eddie walking back over, a wad of clothes and a first aid kit in hand. His mouth is moving but everything sounds muffled and far away.

Steve lifts his head from the couch. “What did you say?” Eddie frowns.

“I said do you want to change first or take care of your face first.” He repeats.

Steve hears him fine this time. “Shit, it got worse again.” Steve gets out, voice cracked. His throat feels tight and burns as he tries his hardest to not let a pathetic and exhausted sob crawl up his throat.

Eddie kneels in front of Steve again, taking his face into his palm on his less injured side.

“What's worse baby, what happened?” Eddie's thumb rubs at a tear that has slipped down Steve's cheek. Steve sobs a little again at the affection and turns his face further into Eddies warm hand. With Eddie speaking closer to him now it's easier to realize he doesn't hear much of his voice in his left ear.

“You remember last year,” his breath hitches again with a suppressed sob “when Billy beat the shit out of me? I found out I had lost some of my hearing in my right ear.” Steve shuts his eyes tightly and tries to breathe, Eddie lets him take his time before he continues. “It's worse now, I could barely hear you.” Steve explains brokenly, another quiet sob slipping out.

“Oh.” Eddie breathes, looking a little broken himself. He gathers up Steve's hand with his own that isn't holding his face and squeezes it gently. He lets Steve release his grief and tears.

“I'm sorry, I'm just so goddamed exhausted.” Steve breathes.

“I know, I know, it's okay, you don't have anything to be sorry for.” Eddie soothes.

Steve goes to wipe the tears from his face and hisses in pain when his bunched fist aggravates his bruise. He opens his eyes again and meets Eddie's.

“Why don't we get your face cleaned up okay?” Eddie suggests, reaching for a rag on top of the first aid kit. He wets it with warm water in the kitchen sink before returning to Steve and sitting next to him in the edge of the couch. Eddie sits on his right side and some part of Steve is glad for it.

“Can I get you to turn towards me a little bit?” He requests. It's easier to hear Eddie like this. Steve complies, slowly turning his head.

Eddie reaches forward and holds Steve's cheek again. Eddie meets his gaze unafraid, and with something warm in his gaze. Steve shuts his eyes for a moment and breathes. He scrunches his face when Eddie gently presses the wet cloth against his face. He holds it to Steve's forehead, loosening the dried blood there. He wipes as gently as he can but it still stings.

Steve makes a low whine of discomfort and shifts his face further into Eddie’s hand.

“I know love, almost done, you're okay.” Eddie comforts. Steve lets the weight of his head rest further in Eddie's palm.

Steve opens his eyes when Eddie starts swiping the cloth under his swollen eye. He feels another tear leak out. He's just so beyond exhausted and being cared for like this is almost too much. Eddie gives him the smallest fond look through his lashes even though it's lined with concern.

Eddie pulls away, settling the hand that held his face on Steve's knee while he turns to dig through the first aid kit one handed. Steve appreciates the consistent contact.

Producing butterfly bandages, Eddie removes his hand to peel away the backings and gently apply them to the split skin on Steve's face. It's the most gentle anyone has been with him in a long time. It makes his throat burn for a different reason, and his chest feels compressed with emotion. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing as he gets patched up. It's too much to watch Eddie right now, and he knows Eddie won't let him fall asleep.

Eddie smooths his fingers over Steve's good cheek and he opens his eyes.

“You with me?” Eddie questions.

Steve hums affirmative. He sits up a little straighter after noticing Eddie has packed up the first aid kit.

“Do you think you can stand? I wanna get you out of those clothes,” Eddie explains, but his eyes widen suddenly. “because they're gross, obviously, sorry.” He clarifies, turning his head away. In the low light Steve can see that his face is a couple shades darker and red. He huffs a laugh and smiles for the first time since the fucked up drugs from earlier. He musters a little confidence.

“You can just ask you know.” Steve croaks with a smirk.

“Okay stop it, you're in no state to be, all,” Eddie flaps his hands vaguely at Steve. This earns another smile. “do you need help getting changed or not Harrington?" Eddie demands, putting on a firmer commanding tone that is obviously false.

Steve tries to stand on his own and manages it for the most part but Eddie supports him by his shoulder as the room spins.

“A little help, just make sure I don't fall and hit my head or something.” Steve requests. He doesn't have it in him to care about anything much more today. Eddie helps him pull his soiled uniform over his head, avoiding his cleaned and sore face.

Steve eyes the shirt Eddie selected for him. It's a very worn band tee, reading ‘DIO’ in red script, the font big enough for him to make out without his glasses. He shrugs and pulls it on, trying to ignore the way his head pounds. He steps out of his shorts next after kicking off his sneakers. Eddie steadies him by his shoulder and respectfully averts his eyes as Steve pulls on the pair of borrowed sweats.

Steve rights himself and meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Alright, I'm going to put you in my bed then get you some water after we check how bad your concussion is.” Eddie commands, pulling Steve down to hall and into a very messy room. It's cozy in its own way in Steve's mind, used to a neat but cold house. The warm light doesn't hurt as bad as it could but it's still uncomfortable.

He lets Eddie guide him onto the bed and faces him as Eddie crouches to peer at his face.

“Okay, can you follow my finger for me?” Steve nods a little and regrets it, but follows Eddie's pointer finger as he moves it left and right in front of his face. It makes his head hurt to do so.

Eddie puts his hand down, seemingly having gotten his answer.

“Yeah you definitely have vertigo sweetheart, shouldn't have driven with this bad of a concussion.” Eddie sighs softly. Steve tries not to let the pinch of shame in his stomach grow bigger.

“I'm going to go get you some water, I'll be back in a minute.” True to his word Eddie returned within the minute, pressing a mug of water into Steve's hands. He steadies it as Steve drinks and then sets it on his busy nightstand.

“I think you'll be okay to sleep for a bit at this point, but I'll have to wake you up every hour or so.” Eddie explains, sympathetic.

“Okay. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep right now.” Steve says in a small voice. He thinks about his bat in the car and wonders if it would be weird to ask Eddie to retrieve it for him. What would he think Steve would do with it? Give it a snuggle? Yeah, that's a no.

“I'll go crash on the couch and set an alarm on my watch, I'll leave you be man don't worry about-” Eddie assures, waving his hands about as he speaks. Steve grabs his wrists and interups him.

“Please don't go.” Steve rushes out, panic suddenly tight in his chest. His breathing picks up.

“Okay, okay, I'll say, I don't know what I can do for you but I'll stay, okay?” Eddie assures, sitting on his right side on the mattress. Steve's grip looses on Eddie wrist some. He scoots back to lay down and tugs Eddie along with him. Hard enough to get the point but gentle enough to leave him the choice. Even though Steve is fairly heavily concused he doesn't think he'd been reading things wrong.

Eddie shifts up the bed to lay to the right of Steve. They face each other as they lay down, Eddie's wrist still in Steve's soft grasp. Eddie gives him a small tender smile, and Steve lets out a heavy breath before returning it. Eddie shifts for a moment, un-pinning his arm to cup Steve's face again. Steve closes his eyes.

“Will you tell me about your show?” Steve requests.

“My show?” Eddie asks, puzzled.

Steve cracks his eyes open, an amused smile on his lips. “The one you played last night Eddie, you haven't shut up about it in weeks.”

“You sure you wanna hear about it?” Eddie questions, seeming unsure. Steve hums a yes and let's his eyes slip shit again for a moment.

Eddie props himself up on his elbow to tug the sheet over them both. The smell of his sweat and cigarettes on his sheets should be gross to Steve but instead the inherent Eddie-ness of it was only a comfort that soothed his sore heart.

He hears Eddie clicking around on his watch before settling back down. Steve opens his eyes again, deep brown meeting deepest brown.

Eddie leans over carefully and kisses Steves brow bone, right to the left of where his left eyebrow was split and now held together.

Steve sighs contently, eyes slipping shut as he reaches for Eddie's hand. Eddie's hands are bare and warm as his fingers wrap around Steve's own.

“So, this show was definitely different from the usual Hideout scene. For starters there was less drunks and way more fans that know what the good shit is. So, Jeff and I start out with this insane guitar solo from…”

Steve slips into the most peaceful sleep he's had after a run in with the Upside-Down even though he knows Eddie will rouse him in an hour. He's content to curl towards Eddie after being woken and let his hands running through Steve's hair lull him back to sleep.

In the morning Wayne will be home and Steve's parents will be gone again. Eddie will ask him to stay a little longer and insist on reading him the Hobbit as they waste their afternoon in bed.

A few weeks later when Steve makes a reference to The Lord of the Rings in front of the kids, he realizes Dustin's shock and antics will never be valued in his memory the way that Eddie’s hours of reading to him and caring for him will be.

Dustin's shock a few months later when he meets Steve's boyfriend will be a little more memorable if only for the way Eddie grins proudly at him.

#Steddie #steddie ficlet #ficlet #Steddie fanfic #hurt/comfort #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #pre relationship #steddie #robin buckley #juniebugwrites

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