#but it’s his thing and he slays so I’ll let him get away with it

[talleryn]

Kaz: *wears dark grey instead of black* Nina: I see you’re breaking out the spring colours

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ my dawg - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer reader

✿ lando norris is down bad for his girlfriend and he has no shame about it

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is kinda pt 2 to walk em like a dog

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,028,967 others

yn took my dawg out today

landonorris didn’t expect you to become a gymnast in the middle of dinner 😔

⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA

landonorris spit on me your so hot

⤷ yn kinky boy

georgerussell63 Perioddd 💅🏽

⤷ yn ok that’s enough

alexandrasaintmleux I miss you

⤷ yn i miss you more come over i’ll kick lando out

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Walking to the door right now i’ll be there in 10

⤷ landonorris hello?

⤷ charles_leclerc Guess I’ll see you at the paddock then??

francisca.cgomes let him out the crate for a little bit

⤷ yn yeah he’s been behaving recently

⤷ landonorris 😈😈

oscarpiastri I think you need to take him on more walks he has to much energy

⤷ landonorris i know a way to get rid of energy easily

⤷ yn and back in the crate you go!

🝮

yn

liked by madisonbeer and 2,724,005 others

yn sushi dates with my love 🎀

alexandrasaintmleux My favorite date 🥰

⤷ charles_leclerc Uhm, alright then

landonorris but that’s our thing?? ☹️

⤷ yn you don’t even eat sushi?

⤷ landonorris i still take you out to eat it even though the sight of it makes me gag??

⤷ yn and then you make me brush my teeth before i can kiss you?

⤷ landonorris just say you hate me

⤷ yn i hate you

⤷ landonorris please take me back baby

francisca.cgomes i miss my girls 😣😣

⤷ yn we miss you more!!

alex_albon did lando stay at charles’ 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc Yes and he would not shut up about how he misses y/n

georgerussell63 Me next

⤷ landonorris no go away i’m next

⤷ lilymhe actually i am 🤣

🝮

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,113,562 others

landonorris hopelessy devoted to you ❤️

yn my one love 🤍

⤷ charles_leclerc Hold on…is y/n norris being sweet?? Did someone screenshot this?

⤷ yn did i get married and just don’t remember?

⤷ landonorris yes.

yn can we get a puppy

⤷ landonorris whatever you want baby

⤷ yn 🤍

francisca.cgomes ok, cute

carlossainz55 I remember when you were hopelessly devoted to me.

⤷ landolovesyn LMFAO NOT CARLOS BEING SALTY 😭😭

pierregasly down BAD

lilymhe hm. well, i guess this is cute

alexandrasaintmleux I approve of this post

oscarpiastri WE KNOW

chilipowder55 poor oscar 😭 he’s so done with both of them

flowers444yn all the wags don’t wanna share y/n with her bf 💀

🝮

f1updates

liked by landonorris and 28,001 others

f1updates lando & y/n out in monaco tonight

lordperceval lando’s always in the likes whenever a sighting of them is posted 😭

⤷ georgerussell63 he’s so unserious

⤷ alex_albon GEORGE?!

⤷ charles_leclerc ALEXANDER?!

⤷ maxverstappen1 CHARLES?!

⤷ carlossainz55 MAX?!

⤷ pierregasly CARLOS?!

⤷ oscarpiastri PIERRE?!

⤷ carmenmmundt OSCAR?!

⤷ lilymhe CARMEN?!

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux LILY?!

⤷ francisca.cgomes ALEX?!

⤷ lewishamilton So we all stalk every update about lando and y/n?

⤷ georgerussell63 LEWIS?!?!

sharls_lerklerk why did lewis just expose all of them

🝮

lando.jpg

liked by danielricciardo and 492,705 others

lando.jpg she’s getting it tonight

yn OH OK!! how sweet 😰

⤷ landonorris always for you 😉

yn guys i’m scared

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m omw

alexandrasaintmleux My girl 💘💗💕💓

francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl ever

alexandrasaintmleux so that’s where my dress went

⤷ yn what dress? 😟

maxverstappen1 Hair is on point

charles_leclerc Alright I fw the fit

georgerussell63 Period my queen never lets us down 💅🏽

oscarpiastri Ate down or whatever 💋

danielricciardo Drop the hair care routine girl

lilymhe beautiful beautiful girl

carlossainz55 Slay all day 😻😻

landowonone what is going on 😭

🝮

yn

liked by georgerussell63 and 3,390,781 others

yn alexandra got a puppy, so i made lando get me a puppy too

alexandrasaintmleux Play dates everyday

landonorris 🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc Leo and lil Pete are gonna be the best of friends

carlossainz55 So you get him Saturday and Sunday and I get him the rest of the week? 😁

⤷ yn um no ❤️

carmenmmundt How cute 🥹

alex_albon I think he would look cuter with me…in my house…in my arms

⤷ yn i don’t think so

maxfewtrell The chokehold you have on him isn’t okay 😔

⤷ yn neither was the one he had on me last night

⤷ maxfewtrell !?!? 😨

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[ybklix]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦

⋆˚✿˖° pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

୧ ‧₊˚ ♡ somethin’ about him is made for somebody like me ₊˚⊹⋆

♡ genre - warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, car and semi public sex, kinda slow burn? idk bear w me

word count: 3.1k

m.list

a/n: idk, a little something ab changbin as i prepare for 1k event fics!<3 and all my wips omg; just bc he’s so ariana slay

Changbin said it simply, whether or not you would go with him to the gym, via text message, to which you declined, you didn’t feel like working out at all, something about you that day seemed to depress you, but every muscle in your body tensed and your whole being woke up as you read:

uh, too bad

i wanted you to meet gyuri, i'm going to train her now

I thought you might get along😁

You jolted up, perplexed as you read the message from your best friend. Next thing you knew you were ready to go to Changbin’s personalized gym, this time dressed a little less sporty, you hoped to excuse yourself smoothly with something you would come up with later since you weren’t thinking clearly.

For years you had this best friend dynamic with Changbin, an unique dynamic where you never touched each other that way, but you treated each other with such affection that people thought you were a couple and, but knowing that he would be with another woman... made you grow jealous, you couldn’t deny it, he was yours, you were in love with him but the idea of a relationship suffocated you, you just knew you wanted him, his company in everything.

Changbin was a professional and personal trainer, he had clients of very high status, usually... other men so you were more than relieved, but a girl was something new to you. So with a slight shiver in your body, you unexpectedly knocked on your friend’s establishment door. He opened it for you within seconds, confused, wearing his tight workout clothes, making you slightly nervous.

“Oh, hey, love” he greeted you with a smile, “You drove here by yourself? You actually decided to come... but... you’re not dressed to...”

“Oh, no, let’s go eat later” you quickly interrupted him.

“Okay! But... you know I’m kind of busy, will you wait here?”

You blinked trying to think quickly, a valid excuse, something, something...

“Mr. Seo!” you heard a high-pitched but sweet voice, interrupting you and diverting his attention.

Changbin turned with a smile and then saw you. The inner fire of yours burst out in you more.

“Oh, it’s Gyuri, come in Y/n.”

You both walked further in, until you came to see a pretty young woman with two glasses with orange juice in her hands... she was, something else, she had such a bright aura, long hair and dyed a light brown. She really was Changbin’s type, if you knew him well enough.

“Changbin, please, I’m not that old” he joked correcting her, taking one of the glasses, “Oh, this is Y/n, Y/n, Gyuri.”

“Nice to meet you” Gyuri replied kindly with a smile to which you reciprocated the gesture, “Oh, I made orange juice, do you want...?”

“I’m fine really...”

And a brief awkward silence formed. Changbin sensed it instantly and took a quick sip of his juice.

“Well, let’s continue” he exclaimed.

You felt... like you shouldn’t be there, you weren’t even wearing work out clothes, you were sad in your apartment but you went all the way here by mere impulse as you felt Changbin was yours.

You watched them walk away, but Changbin quickly turned to see you.

“Ah, Y/n...”

“It’s okay, I can go” you replied awkwardly, your cheeks warm not exactly sure if from a bit of rage or general embarrassment.

“Oh, no, you can stay, I won’t really train, I’ll just make sure Gyuri does a good job and that the exercises I assign suit her.”

You smiled at him, you couldn’t even answer him, you felt so small, pathetic and jealous. And now you had to witness him, pulling her body closer, encouraging her, correcting her posture, lifting her ass to him. You couldn’t take it anymore. Usually you’re that girl, and you come out of your sessions very turned on by his yelling and flattery.

You texted Minho, your other friend, telling him to call you urgently, to which he initially complained and tried to ignore you but after a few minutes, very confused he did. You walked away embarrassed, pretending to have an important call and walked out, exclaiming that it was a call from Minho. Changbin watched you leave, a little confused... as you were acting weird, quieter than usual and the only time he saw your eyes light up was when you got the call from another man, causing him discontent.

You explained the situation to Minho, to which in a mocking tone, after laughing at you, he encouraged you to finally try something with Changbin, that if neither of you didn’t cross the line, something would never happen... so you decided to take his wise words. This wasn’t planned, you’re usually unproblematic and only the universe knows how hard you tried to resist, but you couldn’t help it, the boy was yours. He always was. Only you knew him like no one else and you couldn’t wait to try.

After an exhaustive talk on the phone for more than half an hour with Minho, whom you seemed to be forcibly holding back, you entered, finding Changbin and Gyuri finishing their session. You celebrated internally; you checked even the smallest detail of both of them was in order, analyzing them with the look that nothing had happened in your absence, and everything looked the same. Only the girl was a little flustered who had a slightly tired expression and was sweating, getting up from the exercise machine.

She walked in search of her tumbler cup with water, drinking slowly.

“I’m done, what do you want to eat?” Changbin walked over to tell you.

You still smelled his perfume, with him not shedding a drop of sweat.

You smiled at him, “I don’t know, let’s just go out.”

You were nervous and couldn’t explain it. What you didn’t know was that Changbin was also giving your long phone call with Minho a second thought. So he didn’t even pay attention to Gyuri, just politely bid her farewell, telling her politely that he would see her next session.

Once inside his car, he started driving, suddenly you found him a thousand times more attractive, the way his hair looked so fluffy, he was driving attractively with one hand and his seat belt squeezing between the middle of his pecs... you thought about what to say, honestly confessing with cheesy words was not your thing, what could you do...

“So... what so much did Minho say?” he finally spoke, trying to hide his curiosity.

“Minho? Ah, nothing.”

“Mmm... well, it seems like you talked quite a lot...”

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you weren’t paying much attention to what Changbin was saying, but his subtle tone changed something in you... it was obvious his slight jealous tone so you quickly seized the opportunity.

“Uh... well yeah, you know how Minho and I are…”

“Minho and you? Since when? He can barely stand you.”

“Well… he tolerates me enough to listen to my voice over the phone for an hour.”

Changbin snorted in annoyance, bringing his other hand to the steering wheel, giving an incredulous half-smile.

“Anyway, let’s go to that food place we went to the other time.”

“Sounds good to me, maybe I can bring Minho something to eat too” you continued to tease him, enjoying seeing his disgusted reaction.

“Why would you bring him food? If you’re hanging out with me, he can cook something by himself. Did you tell him you’d bring him food? Does it mean you’re going to see him later?” exploded Changbin in emotions still looking straight ahead, unable to turn to see you.

You laughed and rolled your eyes in satisfaction.

“God, Changbin, are you listening to yourself?”

“Yeah so what?”

“Are you jealous?” you smiled mischievously.

“As much as you were of Gyuri” he now smiled.

The gesture was immediately wiped off your face. You couldn’t believe he said that. Changbin started laughing in his typical mocking laugh, coming from the pit of his stomach, his low and sonorous 'hehehe', you found it really annoying.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Well, that’s the way you wanted to play” he added, parking his car in front of a fence on the street of the outside restaurant which was a street food place, a bit far from it.

You crossed your arms and acted indignant, hoping to get his attention, you were both attention whores. Changbin smiled at your expression, looking straight ahead with your arms and leg crossed. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and began to stirr your arm playfully.

“Come on, let’s go eat, don’t say you got mad. If you behave yourself I’ll pay for Lino’s food too and we’ll bother him later, we can see his annoying reaction when he sees us coming over” he mentioned in an amused tone, begging for your attention.

You slowly smiled and it wasn’t because of his comment, just for the simple fact that you really liked Changbin, and you loved the way he begged a little. You turned to look at him, slowly, scaring Changbin in a good way, as your expression was serious, you had a sweet smile drawn on your face, your eyes sparkled in the slight darkness and... you managed to make him nervous in seconds, you looked so attractive in his eyes, with a look that you had only seen him before for a few seconds when you got drunk, a seductive look almost inviting him to do with you whatever he wants.

“Hey, let’s go to...”

“Changbin” you said slowly; he was lost on you, he didn’t finish his sentence nor did he know what he was talking about, “Bin...”

You didn’t know exactly what to say either. You were just waiting for him to react and come to you and take what is his, with a kiss.

Changbin cleared his throat, averting his gaze from you, breaking the moment of tension and the magic moment where you were hypnotizing him. You would have thought it was cute... but instead you grimaced in disgust... was it that you had misread the signs and Changbin really didn’t like you too? You got so angry that you spat impulsively and without thinking:

“Yeah, well, at least Minho would have known to take this chance and would be kissing me by now.”

Changbin’s face perked up as did his ears at being so surprised, the sentence with the words ‘Minho, kiss, me’ didn’t seem to well at all to him.

“Excuse me?”

You moved dangerously close to him, almost brushing his lips, making him open his eyes in surprise:

“That he can read the room and understand what I want” you provoked him again.

“Oh yeah?” he expressed, smugly, brushing his nose with yours, “Then why don’t you go and bother him? But no, you have to be here... Binnie this, Binnie that... I’ve never seen you complain this much...”

“And what could it be that I always called you before anyone else?” his lips inches away, so agonizing that your body throbbed with excitement.

“What is it...? You have to tell me.”

“What do you want me to tell you, Seo Changbin?”

The air suddenly became heavy, your breaths could be heard in every corner of his car.

“Say what you want, you’re free to express yourself, love.”

You smiled, amused about to say the most corny thing in the world, unashamed, about to kiss him, “I’d say you’re mine.”

And you kissed him, being pushed by more than your silly steady wobble. His lips were soft and fluffy, Changbin quickly held the back of your neck gently to intensify his kiss, you took hold of his strong arm; he did it so well, he was slow but wild, taking you into splendid delight. After a little over a minute, his free hand sought to caress your thigh, he brought his hand under your skirt and explored the inside of your mouth dirtyly with his tongue, arousing you a little.

Finally you parted, lips swollen and incredibly aroused from each other, staring into each other’s eyes so lasciviously.

“Oh, Y/n...” he whispered, analyzing every part of your face, “Come here, I’m all yours.”

Changbin roughly slid his seat back, patting his thighs, you looked down at his hand and it was inevitable to notice that he was hard. You smiled broadly and found a way to slide from your seat to his, sitting on his lap facing him, with your thighs on either side of his, feeling a little of his bulge brush against your mons pubis, so close to your clit. You left your hands on his pecs and kissed him again, in a more desperate act, not caring that you were on a public street, you needed him, just now more than any other day, you couldn’t believe it, finally you and him, intertwining, under the night.

Changbin began to touch your body, running his manly hands up your thighs and down your ass, until he reached your panties, desperate, Changbin let one hand squeeze your thigh and the other caressed your sensitive clit, managing to cause you to shiver. You were so wet that it kind of embarrassed you to drop your whole body into his lap, but he loved how slightly needy you looked. Changbin gently bit your lower lip as he pulled away from you and worked more on caressing your throbbing clit; you bit your lip in pleasure as you saw his smug expression on his face, he was more than happy to see a new reaction in you, with your slightly open mouth, panting and your submissive look, suddenly discovering your body became so addictive and filled him with adrenaline.

You gasped harder, you were so ready to see his cock for the first time and decisively to start moving on it, you wanted it right now and you were about to ask for it; but seeing two young people walking down the street through the back window of his car, made you regain your consciousness a little.

“Cha-ngbin” you tried to speak, “we’re in...”

“In a fucking public place, I know dear, so you better be discreet; I’m not gonna take off any of your clothes, you can fuck me like this” he whispered breathy and sizzling near your lips, gently scrunching his nose and unable to take his eyes off your face.

You watched him and for some reason, you just nodded submissively, Changbin widened his smile at your response, sweetly showing his front teeth.

“Stand up a little, so you can feel my fingers...”

You did so instantly, and within seconds you felt the tickle of his fingers across your labia, then moving away the fabric of your panties from your soaked entrance and he slipped two of his deft fingers into your core.

Changbin raised his eyebrows in surprise and pouted finding you tender, your body trembled and you did your best to hold back the soft whimper leaving your lips at the sensation of your insides being touched.

“You’re so wet, love. I think you’re so ready to take my cock already, don’t you?”

He pushed his fingers in deeper, teasing you more, making you lean your limp body into him, enjoying the feel of his fingers digging inside you.

“Y-yes, Changbin, please.”

“I didn’t hear you right, what was the magic word again?”

“Pl-please.”

Changbin thrusted you with his fingers more intensely and rapidly bringing your climax closer and, your wetness spilling out of you, dripping down his hand and onto his thighs and, with his typical smug grin, he pulled out of you without warning, making you sigh in exasperation, but you caught your breath, as you watched him finally pull down his shorts and underwear; Changbin looked to his sides a little guiltily, his heart was racing; his windows were shielded but the rush of having a little bit of public sex filled him with adrenaline again, pumping his cock to perfection.

Finally there it was, something you hadn’t planned at all from the beginning but still circumstances led you to it; his cock, nice and erect and thick, his little trimmed pubic hair in his area perfectly detonating to his rigid and throbbing member with its pink tip coated in shiny precum. The curiosity in you won, stroking it admiringly, from its tip to its base and its soft sensitive balls, you wanted to do so many things with it, take your time, but both of you were already in a very compromising situation.

“Go ahead, baby, ride me” he gasped, somewhat despairing at your sudden masturbation to his cock.

You raised your gaze and lifted your body a little again, bringing it closer to his erection, Changbin grabbed your hips while you leaned on his chest, then pushed the fabric of your panties aside with one hand and with the other you perfectly centered his hard cock at your entrance, finally letting you slowly drop into it, feeling every inch of him stretching your hole and walls; it felt so good in you, that you both gasped at the same time, but it felt even better with his full length inside, as if he was tailor-made for you.

You began to move, whimpering a little, the sensation was indescribable, Changbin finally for you.

“Move for me, move for me, fuck you’re doing great.”

You rode his cock, expecting nothing less from Changbin, but his babbles filling you with compliments made your nipples hard, you wanted to be touched by him, every part of you, completely vulnerable, but for the moment you had to settle for intense car sex, living off the pure sensation and the grotesque sound of your soaking wet core being stirred by his masculinity. Your tiny skirt covered the scene; just two best friends, with the girl jumping on her friend’s lap, panting. You felt complete, you didn’t want to leave him ever, his balls were rubbing against your pussy as he was so fucking deep in you and with your throbbing labia brushing against his body, you were completely rapt, Changbin was too strong to carry you easily and move your body at his mercy, his cock destroying beautifully inside you, you were whimpering in pure pleasure, never stopping babbling his name. You thought you were moving but he was doing his part too, intensifying each thrust into you.

Changbin tightened his grip on you, almost marking your skin, squeezing the fabric of your skirt tightly against you, he grunted loudly and you felt his cock throb in, followed by his orgasm shooting deep into your core, you couldn’t hold it back that long either, you twitched gently a couple more times as you watched him try to recover and you swooned completely into his body, culminating in a shuddering orgasm that altered every sense in you.

You both stared at each other, shaken and with a smirk of satisfaction as if you had won a prize you were aiming for.

｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆｡°✩

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @houseapologist @bubblebisk

[bruisedboys]

No bc I need finnick to lovingly scold me over not eating all day and make me food and just be so protectively doting. you slayed with those casual dominance headcanons

thank you gorgeous! I hope u don’t mind, I’m using your ask to post a full blurb based on the hc’s :) I already had it written when you sent this in, and it’s kind of the perfect ask for it so!! thank u <3 here’s the original drabble if anyone wants it

finnick odair x fem!reader / finnick loves you and is bossy

You’re tangled up like a pretzel on the sofa when Finnick finally gets home. He’s been out swimming all morning and you’ve been (rightfully, in your opinion) quite miserable. It’s not your fault you like him so much — he’s lovely and handsome and perfect, and a handful of hours without him has left you a bit of a mess.

He appears in the doorway, the salty breeze following him in. He looks wildly handsome, his golden hair all windswept, his eyes searching for you.

You leap up. “Finnick!”

You swoop on him and he catches you easily, laughing softly as his strong arms wrap around your upper back. He smells like the ocean, salty and crisp, fresh. He hugs you so tight your feet leave the ground.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says into your hair. You hear the smile in his voice, it’s not hard to miss, and you decide you want to see it, so you pull back. Like you thought, he’s smiling a dazzling smile that combats the sun in its brightness. He’s so happy to see you, and it makes you feel electric.

“Hello,” you say back, your voice sticky with love. You push his pretty hair back from his face, card you fingers through a rogue curl and tuck it behind his ear. His hair’s still thick with salt — hopefully he’ll let you wash it for him tonight. “I missed you.”

Finnick’s grin grows impossible wider. “Mm, I can tell.” He takes his face in your hands, thumbs dragging across your cheekbones. “I missed you, too, pretty girl. What’d you do while I was gone all day, hm?”

You hum something incoherent. You’ve barely heard his question, too caught up in his soft touching, his gentle voice and his lovely names. Your eyelids flutter under his affections. He touches you like you’re something beautiful made of marble, like you’re not just a girl. He certainly doesn’t make you feel like just a girl.

Finnick laughs at your obvious pleasure, your inability to answer his question. “Sounds interesting,” he teases. He gets his hand under your chin and tilts you up gently to look at him properly. “Did you eat already, sweet thing?”

You think about it and realise you honestly can’t remember if you even ate at all today. You shy, because you know what Finnick’s reaction will be. “Um. No?”

Finnick raises his eyebrows. “No? Did you eat at all?”

Barely. You were too busy missing him to think about something so unimportant as food. Has it even been lunchtime yet? “I had half an apple for breakfast,” you admit.

Finnick sighs. His arms drops to your waist, warm and heavy. “It’s half four, honey,” he says. Way past lunch time, then. “You know that’s not good enough.”

He’s only telling you off because he cares, but you still feel awful when he looks at you like that. “Sorry,” you say quietly.

“Hey, don’t be. It’s okay.” He chucks you under the chin and smiles at you. “Sit down, I’ll make you something, okay?”

Finnick starts to move away. You follow, eager to be near him. “I’ll help.”

He looks at you, raising a quizzical brow. “No, you won’t.”

“But—“

“Sweetheart.” He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, pressing down lightly. “I said no. I’ve got it.”

There’s a sort of sternness to his tone that makes your stomach churn. You imagine arguing back would only result in more of it, and though you actually do quite like when he tells you what to do, you don’t want to irritate him. Still, you pout at him dramatically before stalking off to the sofa again.

You hear Finnick chuckling at your dramatics as he disappears into the kitchen. You resume your position of miserable pretzel, curled up and sulking while you listen to the sounds of pots and pans, the tap running, the stove being switched on. It takes less than ten minutes before you get bored and wander into the kitchen. Finnick’s at the sink washing carrots, his back to you, with all the ingredients for your favourite soup laid out on the counter.

You try to be as inconspicuous as possible as you pull out a chopping board and a knife. You only get so far as to have them both in your hands before Finnick’s on you like a hawk.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding exasperated but unsurprised. He comes up behind you to take the knife from your hand, sets it on the bench and then turns you around by the shoulders. He pushes you back towards the living room. “Do you ever listen?”

Even though he’s technically scolding you, you can hear the amusement in his question. He’s not mad. You might even say he’s having fun.

“Finnick,” you whine, struggling to stay put with his manhandling. You dig your heels into the floor, though you know it won’t work because he’s really strong when he wants to be. “Can I at least sit with you? It’s lonely without you.”

Finnick stops in his efforts to steer you out of the kitchen. There’s a pause, and then he sighs, and you know you’ve won.

“Alright, yes,” he says, in a tone that suggests admitting defeat. “Fine, you can sit with me.”

You spin around in his arms, pleased.

“But you’re not allowed to lift a finger,” he says, hands on your shoulders keeping you firmly in place. “I’ll do the cooking. You just sit and look pretty for me, okay?”

You beam. At least it’s something. And at least you get to sit with him, if anything. “Okay.”

Finnick looks at you with something akin to amused affection for a handful of seconds, and then shakes his head, smiling. “You always get your way, don’t you?” He asks softly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. His warm hand strokes a path down your neck and over the slope of your shoulder.

You want to tell him that it’s not your fault he’s always giving you what you want. You don’t think that kind of attitude would bode well for you being allowed in the kitchen.

[jjkamochoso]

Rotten Right to the Core

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader

Inspired by Charlie XCX’s song “Apple”; Sanemi worries about the traits he’s inherited from his parents…

Warnings: cussing, yelling, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

[I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree/'Cause I've been looking at you so long/Now I only see me/I wanna throw the apple into the sky/Feels like you never understand me/So I just wanna drive/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport]

Each year as Sanemi grew older, he became more nervous to look at his reflection, afraid of what he might see. Would he retain the soft features of his mother? Or would his father’s presence haunt him as he stared into the eyes that reminded him of everything bad in this world? He hated feeling this way. Sometimes he would get so angry that he would break the mirror, desperate to erase the possibility of seeing the ghost of his father ever present on his face. After his rampage would finish, you were always there to dutifully clean up the mess, both physically and mentally. He was your lover, after all; taking care of each other was part of your promises to one another.

Today was one of those days where Sanemi grappled with his self worth.

Thankfully you were home, not having been sent on a demon slaying mission yet. As soon as you heard the crashing of broken glass, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Sanemi was a good husband—a great one, actually—and you knew that he had a violent upbringing. That’s why you never got upset at these outbursts; you couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to see the face of the man who brought your family so much pain look back at you every day of your life. You grabbed a dustpan and a broom on your way to the upset Wind Pillar.

“I’m coming in,” you said quietly, knocking on the door and opening it. You were met with Sanemi gripping the edge of the counter, his knuckles white with fury underneath the layers of blood dripping from his cut skin. The glass on the floor could wait—he needed to be bandaged. You opened the medical kit and dug through for tweezers and gauze. Sanemi stayed silent, still seething. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, ashamed at making such a mess. You didn’t care, though, you never did.

“I’m going to clean you up first and then I’ll get the glass, okay?” you told him, gesturing him to take a seat away from the damage he dealt. You sanitized the wounds on his knuckles before getting to work on extracting the small pieces of glass from the cuts. He barely flinched as you did this, making you frown. He must’ve been extra upset this time. When you started the bandaging process, he finally spoke up.

“I look like him. I hate it.” His voice trembled with fury. “I can’t stand knowing I’ll never be able to escape him.”

You listened intently in case he wanted to say something else, but he went quiet again. You were all done wrapping him up and placed a loving kiss on the freshly bandaged hand.

“You’re not him,” you whispered. “You’ve never raised a hand to me. You’ve never hurt me.”

Sanemi let out a humorless laugh, pulling his hand from your grasp. “Is that the standard for good husbands nowadays? What a joke.”

He abruptly stood, leaving the room. You sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day. You wished you had all the right things to say to him, anything to convince him that he’s not a carbon copy of his deadbeat dad, but you were at a loss. The only thing you could do was let him get his anger out elsewhere and he’d come to you when he was ready. You got down on your hands and knees and began to clean up the glass, careful not to cut yourself. You heard heavy footsteps re-enter the room.

“What are you doing?” Sanemi barked out.

“I’m cleaning up.”

“Would you stop? I can do it myself.”

You frowned again. “I know, I’m just trying to help.”

“Just stop, okay? I don’t need your pity!”

You ignored him and went back to your task at hand. That sent Sanemi over the edge.

“Seriously, get the fuck up. I said I’ll do it!”

You weren’t phased by his raised voice. “And I said I’m helping.”

Sanemi just stared at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. All of a sudden he stopped, his bloodshot eyes widening at the memory that entered his mind.

His father’s cup sloshed around with his alcohol of choice for the night. In one drunken movement, he spilled the contents onto the floor.

His mother lowered her eyes. “I’ll clean that right away.”

She took hold of the nearest rag and got down on her hands and knees, but his father didn’t care for her kindness, grabbing her roughly by the arm and hoisting her up before throwing her to the side.

“Get up! Do you think I’m some sort of useless child?” he screamed. “I can use a rag you idiot. I don’t need your help!”

“Sanemi? Are you-”

“You’re just like her,” he choked out. “You’re just like her and I’m just like him.”

You didn’t know what memory spurred that reaction but you figured it was a bad one. You reached out to comfort him but he was gone in an instant. You heard the front door slam shut and you knew he would be gone until evening. He couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as you during times like these when you reminded him of his mother as he was acting like his father. He couldn’t stand knowing he could never truly rid himself of the tendencies that were passed down from the man he was unfortunate enough to be born to.

[I guess the apple could turn yellow or green/I know there's lots of different nuances/To you and to me/I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds/But I can't help but get so angry/You don't listen to me/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night]

Sanemi hurried out the door, desperately needing air and wanting to put as much space as he could between himself and you. He couldn’t believe he let himself get so angry, especially at you. The recollection of his father yelling at his mother the same way he had just done to you was a grim realization for Sanemi that he was following in his father’s footsteps. He picked up his sword and began hacking away, channeling his frustrations into obliterating the training dummy. The more he thought about his previous actions, the more he raged, howling winds swirling around him in an outward reflection of the storm inside himself. He had completely lost himself in his fury, only halting when the dummy was chopped into tiny pieces. The scene in front of him was reminiscent of the one he left inside; yet again, Sanemi proved he only knew violence. He threw his sword away from him, disgusted with his actions, before falling to his knees and shoving his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he have been more like his mother? Calm, caring, loving. She was the light in the perpetual darkness of his father. Weren’t his hands, though calloused and stained with blood (literally and figuratively), capable of handling things with grace and a nurturing touch? Why, instead, was he destined to destroy everything? Or—even worse—was this not destiny in play, but his own choices leading him to blaze through life and hurt everyone close to him? He knew he had the ability to choose love and show the softer side of his personality, he had done it plenty of times in the past. You, his loving wife, had made it easier for Sanemi to follow a more peaceful path, encouraged him to embrace his kinder side, yet he still found himself vexed over little things too often for his liking. It was like vengeance and anger were innate needs, something he couldn’t give up no matter how hard he tried. You deserved better than him; he had made that clear from the very start of your relationship. You didn’t believe him for one second, knowing he had goodness in his heart as he had shown glimpses of his affectionate nature many times. The protective walls he had constructed inside himself were there for a reason but you often broke through them, Sanemi never understanding why you would commit yourself to such a grueling task with no reward at the end (you would disagree as being loved by him was the greatest reward you could ever want). Countless nights were spent by him wondering why you continued to be married to someone like him. He saw no positives for you in your union and when he expressed that, those were the only times it was you who was angry rather than him.

[I think the apple's rotten right to the core/From all the things passed down/From all the apples coming before/I split the apple down symmetrical lines/And what I find is kinda scary/Makes me just wanna drive

I wanna know where you go/When you're feeling alone/When you're feeling alone, do you…]

Sanemi had stayed crumpled on the ground until the sun threatened to dip below the horizon, signaling that nightfall was arriving soon. He gingerly walked inside the house, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that came with his absence. It was dark in every room, save for the few candles you left burning in the kitchen to signal the plate of dinner you had left out for him. Sanemi’s stomach was in knots; he had left you all alone yet you still cooked his favorite food for him.

Some husband I am.

He savored the bites of ohagi as he sat in silence, wondering where you were. Had you finally had enough of him and left? No, you wouldn’t do that without telling him first. You were many things but you certainly weren’t heartless. Worry started settling into him as the sun wasted away. You shouldn’t be out after dark. Sure, you were a demon slayer, but he’d seen the most talented members of the corps slain when they were caught off guard. He gulped down the last of his food and took off in a hurry; to where, he didn’t know. He had no idea where you went when he would storm out. Cussing under his breath, he checked all the rooms of the mansion again.

“Y/n?” he called out. Nothing. Now he was starting to panic. He yanked one of the extra swords from the cabinet in your shared bedroom and tore through the door to the outside. He investigated the surrounding area, yelling your name but getting no response. His mind was scrambled, his breath scattered.

Where could she be?

As soon as that thought hit his brain, he knew exactly where you were.

He found you in the garden.

You were sitting on a stepping stone, your gaze settling on the flowers surrounding you.

“You shouldn’t be out in the dark. It’s not safe.”

Sanemi’s voice, having lost its harshness, made you smile. He was always worried for others and took on such a protective role; how he couldn’t see the positive impact he had, you didn’t know.

“I have my sword,” you replied, not facing him. “And I have you.”

Sanemi’s face burned at his wife’s saccharine tone. He took up a spot next to you, your shoulders brushing together. He wanted to apologize for his behavior today but he didn’t know how to start.

He was his father’s son: brash, unrelenting, unstoppable.

He was his father’s son: he was a coward.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He furrowed his brow. “Why the hell are you apologizing? I’m the jerk here.” He took a deep breath, looking off into the distance as he tried to articulate his feelings. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything. Today and in the past. It sickens me knowing the woman I love has to see the man that I hate.”

You reached out to hold his hand and this time he allowed you to, grasping you with a featherlight touch.

“I’m no good,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why you stay.”

He awaited your usual heated response, but it didn’t come.

“Sanemi, look at me.”

You spoke with such authority that he didn’t dare defy you. His white hair resembled the color of the moon, both shiny brightly in the dark of night.

“I love you. All of you. You are not the monster you think yourself to be, not even close. Yes, you have a temper. Yes, you can get incensed on a whim. Those are not the world ending traits you think them to be. You are a good man, Sanemi. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe then you could understand my love for you.”

Sanemi felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. You always comforted him in ways he never knew possible, but something about tonight was making your sentiments affect him more than usual.

“From what I know, your father would’ve never owned up to his mistakes,” you continued, using your free hand to rub circles on his back. “You’re already a million times better of a man than he ever was.”

“Do you remember when we found those beetles you love so much?” you asked, earning a confused look from Sanemi as he nodded. “You raised the babies into healthy adults. That takes patience and compassion, both of which you have an abundance of in here.” You poked his exposed chest. “How about the time I was so sick I couldn’t stand? You took care of me all day and night, barely getting a wink of sleep yourself because you were so concerned.”

Sanemi did remember all of that.

“I was so scared you were gonna die,” he mumbled. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Those situations are what prove how great of a husband, of a person, you truly are.” You squeezed his hand. “Look inside yourself, my love. You’ll see that there’s traits you inherited from both parents. It’s up to you to decide who you’d rather embody, nothing is set in stone or chosen for you. I think you’ll find you take after your mother more than you think.”

Sanemi got up, brushing off his pants before offering you his hands to grab as he hoisted you up, pulling you into a warm hug. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking steadying breaths.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he held you, “for being by my side. For loving me. For believing in me.”

As he stood there with you, cradling your body with his own, he was reminded of a substantially better memory than the one from that morning.

“Goodnight mommy!” Sanemi had said, his little feet sprinting as he threw himself into his mother’s open arms. She was sporting her large, beautiful grin that he missed seeing so often.

“Goodnight, my child,” she responded, burrowing her nose into his messy hair before placing a gentle kiss there.

He smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 3 (Hate Sex)

Kevin Moskowitz (The Deep) x Reader (NSFW)

(900 words)

Summary: You hate fuck The Deep

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, rough sex, a little bit of biting, hair pulling, degradation, penetrative sex, hate sex (duh)

Notes: I hate him so he was the perfect choice for this one LMAO anyway I think I kinda slayed with this one, I’m proud of it. Enjoy the fic!!!

-

“Jesus, you are so fucking stupid,” you scoff, pushing Kevin onto the chair. He flinches as he hits the back of it, truly a pathetic sight. “A dolphin? The fuck is wrong with you, you fucking idiot?”

After Stillwell held a meeting this morning about covering up The Deep’s dolphin-train track fiasco, you knew this was the final straw with your shitty job at Vought, especially with The Deep. Not only was he a grade-A douchebag, but also completely moronic, which often caused you two to butt heads on numerous occasions regarding his behavior behind the scenes. This afternoon when you dragged him into an empty office, you took your chance to reprimand him- personally.

“Fuck you, I was doing the right thing!” He rubs the back of his neck, “I’m part of The Seven, it’s my job to save people AND my ocean friends, without me, you wouldn’t even have a fucking job, so don’t you dare tell me what to do you stuck up, little-”

Trying to get himself back to his feet, you push him down again, this time straddling him to keep him down. You can feel the heat of his erection pressing into you. You feel it, and he absolutely can feel it too.

You look down at him with disbelief, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

His dropped jaw momentarily comes back up. He snaps his eyes up to you. “Okay, but you’re the one straddling me here.”

For as stupid as The Deep was, he actually had a point here. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Without thinking, you plant a rough kiss on his lips and making sure to bite his lip when you pulled away. Letting out a pained yelp, he comes back to his senses. The Deep grips your hips tightly, painfully almost, keeping you pinned to his lap as your mouth moves down to ravage his neck.

“Y-yeah, nothing to say now, do you? You fucking sl-“

“Finish that sentence and I swear I’ll make what happened to your little dolphin friend look like a fucking joke,” you grit out, your hand flies up to take his chin between your fingers. Not wanting Kevin to get the upper hand on you, you start grinding against his erection. This seems to shut him up perfectly. Seeing him like this was driving you wild. Sure, you hate his fucking guts, but God, if it isn’t hot seeing him under you like this. Your arousal continues to spike. Not wanting to waste any more time, you ease off of him, undoing his belt quickly and pulling out his hardened cock.

Now you understand why The Deep was so incredibly arrogant when he had no reason to be. His cock was huge, it would inflate anyone’s ego.

“Like what you see?” Kevin says loftily.

“Well,” you sigh, “at least you’re good for one thing.” Pulling out a condom from a nearby drawer, you tear off the wrapper, rolling the rubber onto his cock. “Wouldn’t want to leave any traces, or else it’s both our jobs on the line.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin grips your thighs as he slips into you roughly. You wince at his intrusion, so you decide to retaliate by yanking a fistful if his hair. Kevin lets out a loud and completely shameless whine. Barking out a cruel chuckle, your pace against him is fast and hard, wanting to get yourself off as soon as possible.

“G-God you’re pathetic,” you huff. “You think… you’re h-hot shit?” You ask, continuing to slam yourself down on his massive cock. “No, y-you just whine, and beg, and c-cry like a girl, wanting me… to fuck you.”

Letting a harsh moan escape from your lips as you spout your degradation, Kevin’s hand winds up in your hair, taking revenge from earlier. You hold in a grunt, refusing to give him any satisfaction of the fact that what he’s doing to you is making you extremely turned on.

“F-fuck off, I know… you like this,” he groans, “…just as much as I do.” Kevin bucks into you harder, making your knees shake ever so slightly. You can feel yourself getting close. The chair below you two seems to wobble a little.

Not wanting to be around him any longer, your eyes slam shut as you ride him out furiously, chasing after your release.

Kevin grips the arm of the chair and your hip, attempting to steady himself at your quickened pace. “There you g-go…” he chides breathlessly, “Fucking yourself on me like… like the w-whore you are-”

“S-shut…” you grab the back of his chair. “The fuck…” your hand wraps around Kevin’s throat, you pump yourself onto him as much as you can. Your grit out the last word with a harsh, ragged gasp and you feel your orgasm tear through you. “Up.”

With the ferocity of your climax, Kevin nears his peak as well. But, by the time he comes, you are already off of him, straightening out your clothes and hair. He looks over to you, who is now already walking out the door.

“Don’t forget to clean yourself up,” you toss a small box of tissues over to where he’s sitting which he pathetically tries, and fails to catch. Before leaving, you glare at him icily. “You speak a word of what happened here, and your funeral will be next after Translucent’s.”

[xo-adeline]

✮ - Thinking about this video, but with Kaiser instead.

It started with just a simple download of the app (well unless you already had it), chatgpt, after seeing somebody online download it and ask it a bunch of questions and it always responded in a flirty way. I mean what could go wrong? It was a way to not only check if it actually worked and possibly learn some stuff in the process. You decided that since it was around the time you and Kaiser would practice some German (so you could actually understand what he was saying) you would ask questions about that. So you opened up the app and went to the button that let you have a voice chat with it. It started off fine with just you asking about how to say things like “good morning” and “hello” just to make sure that it was actually working. It wasn’t until a couple minutes later and a few questions later it started acting sort of flirty with you, calling you names like “sweetheart” and “baby” and that’s when Kaiser’s attention was finally drawn over to what you were doing. He had been sitting in your shared bedroom at his desk, watching over one of the previous matches but once he heard a male voice coming over from where he knew you were at, and calling you names like those he went out to investigate. He stood in the doorway for a second looking over at you, slightly laughing as you asked your phone another question about how to say “I slay” in german. All to which it responded with the german translation and a “sweetheart” at the end. With a roll of Kaiser’s eyes he walked over and grabbed your phone from you, walking away with it. “I don’t know what that was, but no more.” He placed it up on a high counter, as you followed behind him jumping to get it back. “I was just trying to learn German!” “You don’t need whatever that was, you have me. I’ll teach you.” He said, leaning back onto one of the counters, crossing his arms as he watched you jump and try to climb in the counter in an attempt to get your phone back. “But you were busy.” “And now I’m not. So I’ll teach you.” He walked over and grabbed your waist from where you were slightly standing on your knees to reach and grab your phone, with a quick motion he lifted you up and pulled you off the counter, placing you back down on the floor. He took your hand and pulled you over to the couch with him, sitting you down on his lap before placing his head on your shoulder. “First Lesson, Du brauchst dein Telefon nicht. Du brauchst nur mich.” You could only give him a confused look, you assumed he had something about your phone just based on the way he said “Telefon” but the rest you had no idea. “Sure?” You responded, not really knowing what else to say, to which he smiled and kissed your cheek. "Wunderbar, Second Lesson~"

Mind you the second sentence I asked my friend with help for since I had no idea, so just roll with me here. Also Warning: All Google translated German, so if there is any mistakes please let me know!! Sie brauchen Ihr Telefon nicht. Du brauchst nur mich. - You don't need your phone. You just need me. Wunderbar - Wonderful

[janovavalen]

✧UNLOCKING MORE OF HER || percy jackson x fem!reader

part one!

part two!

part three!

part four!

part five!

summary: percy jackson’s first days on camp were hell to say the least—fist day and he got bullied, but when he sneaks away to be alone he finds an interesting girl in the forest.

word count: 3013!

warnings: small curses (literally like one word and it’s not really a curse but it’s considered one) reader is daughter of athena, sister of annabeth, horrid flirting, reader lowkey not felling percy for the first half’s of this story line.

a/n: guys, i def think im like dragging this out to be a slow burn to like don’t hate me HEHEHEHAHAHA

when the day had just begun, percy was so nicely and beautifully woken up with his clothes being thrown into the wet mud by clarisse and her goons. they snickered as they threw us and made sure to twist their feet that laid upon them.

‘oh grate..yeah thanks for the painting on the shirt guys i’ll be sure to give you creds whenever someone asks where i got it’ percy pinter down at the first where his shirt laid that was once orange and was not poopoo brown.

clarisse seemed to be unhappy with the fact he wasn’t shaking in his boots and made her way over to him, shoving him into the mud right where his shirt was painted. grunting as he his the floor, percy looked up at the three of them.

‘dont think you're such a big deal just because you claimed you slayed the minotaur…i still don’t believe you did.’ she smirked down at him as percy kept his quiet, his eyes trained to look up at her.

sneaking she went to signal her followers to do more to his face—perhaps throw mud on it until they heard a stern voice speak behind them.

‘clarisse!’ she shouted.

percy pushed his led up with his arms that laid behind him in the mud, seeing it was y/n he felt the weight of the world set upon his shoulders. his face filled with red from the embarrassment that was unfolding. it just had to be her?

he wouldn’t mind criticism from grover or luke…or even annabeth? but y/n?

looking as she made eye contact with him, percy turned his head with embarrassment and she felt herself feeling a bit of pity for him. sighing with her eyes closed she folded her arms over her chest, her signature pose.

‘don’t you have places to be? other than pushing someone that’s not even your age into the mud to make yourself feel better at the fact nobody has paid attention to you since he git here? jealous are you?’ y/n looked clarisse up and down who scoffed and angrily as she bit the inside of her cheek.

‘let’s go.’ she demanded her goons who stood behind her. they shoved themselves past y/n who moved her shoulder before any of them could check her.

y/n turned to make sure they fully left them, she didn’t have the time to be pushed into the mud this morning unlike percy who shamefully laid down into the mud, accepting his fate.

y/n walked over to percy who looked up through his eyelashes and she looked down at him with only her eyes.

‘aren’t you going to get up? or are you going to sit there and look sad.’ she mumbled as percy looked around and scrambled his way up to eyes hight with y/n who stayed connected to his own.

‘i was going to get up…right when you walked in actually…’

she looked at his clothes as face before straightening her back and head. what percy didn’t expect was for her to reach out and rub the dry splatter of mud on his cheek that he failed to notice was there. his eyes followed her soft hand that rubbed at the hardened dirt. she looked at the rest of his face before humming to herself.

she didn’t say anything else to him, all she did was turn around and walk away from where percy stood. he was purely shocked, but nonetheless. he watched her walk away back to wherever she was really going.

that must have been a sign…it had to be a sign, today he would learn at least one thing about y/n.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as percy swung his sword at luke who dodged and turned, percy grew to accept the fact that every time they dueled it was a never ending repeat of who will win and who will be shamefully walking away to their cabin.

if nobody could tell the one winning would obviously be luke…the one going back to his cabin, would be percy.

‘come on! you can do it—‘

‘no no i can’t!’ percy grunted as he dodged some of luke’s attacks, occasionally getting a good swing in on luke here and there.

‘yes you can! we’ve been doing this since you got here, come on!’ luke encouraged as he pushed his sword over percy’s. the two of them coming into contact as he twisted the sword making it look easy.

percy may get lucky just now? maybe it will finally happen—

‘luke!’ she called out.

percy immediately looked away from luke who saw this as an opportunity and swung his sword at percy making him stumble and fall.

landing right on his back, percy blinked in surprise as he exhaled.

‘oh!’ luke laughed. making his way over to percy who laid on the ground.

‘never take your eyes off of your opponent’ he mumbled to percy who rolled his eyes. luke laughed and pulled out his hand to help percy up who accepted the help and let out a small thanks.

just then he remembered who was actually there. his eyes turning to her immediately, y/n stood, looking at the two boys who looked at her waiting for her to speak.

‘uhm…sorry to interrupt your bonding, but luke your needed at cabin five. some teens are disagreeing and there’s a small fight bound to happen’ y/n warned luke who stood there and rolled his eyes at the immaturity shining though.

‘right…uhm—thanks for telling me n/n’ he placed his sword into its holder on his hip and started to walk but before he fully left he stumbled over to y/n, his hand on her shoulder.

‘oh and please y/n, take him to the bows and train him. i was supposed to but y’know…’ luke gave her a pleading look as she went to intervene but soon gave up when luke looked into her eyes for a bit longer.

percy watched the two of them, his eyes trained on luke’s hand that didn’t leave y/n’s shoulder. he felt his hand flatten against his jeans as he looked up and down at the two of them before clearing his throat.

y/n turned to luke who looked away into the distance as she sighed in defeat.

‘fine…but if this is a thing, i promise—‘

‘i’ll never see the light of day again. i know i know, you're the best!’ luke shouted as he hurried to cabin five.

percy looked at y/n who shook her head at luke.

she wore something more casual as of right now than he saw her in earlier. when he saw her last, she wore more loose pants and a sweatshirt. but now she wore washed out blue jean shorts and the casual orange camp shirt that said camp half blood on it.

her shoes were high top converse like his own, her hair in a half up half down like annabeth’s and her usual necklace full of earned beads to show off. clearing his throat once more in the awkwardness of him just looking at her, unbeknownst to percy, y/n did the same.

‘so—‘ just before he could say anything else she turned her heel and began walking. percy took this as a small sigh and hurried his walk to be right behind her.

‘uh-uhm, i just wanted to thank you for earlier, when you told clarisse and her goons off’ percy looked over at y/n who turned her head a bit to hid the small snicker that failed to be held within her—he succeeded at seeing another emotion from y/n other than serious, dark and mysterious.

‘yeah it’s whatever…don’t mention it’ she mumbled while they cut their way through small groups of people who stood and talked or groups of people who walked by.

‘yeah but i feel like i need to…and i still wanted to thank you for helping me out of the forest the other night? you never let me—‘

‘i’m serious…percy.’ she turned her face to him, her footsteps stopping as she turned her head to him. their eyes connecting, blue meeting (e/c) as she held their eye contact—‘don’t mention it’ y/n finished.

percy nodded his head as the two of them continued to walk their way to the bows and arrows.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

‘pick your bow, and get down arrows. get enough so that if and when you fail, you’ll have some to back it up’ y/n spoke boldly ad the two of them stood alone.

luke so happened to pick a day when most of the cabins would be doing other training other than bows and arrows. y/n and percy had the small place alone.

no others. just them alone. together.

‘i won’t fail—‘

‘they all say that’ she shrugged her shoulders as percy rolled his eyes and grabbed the arrows with his bow in hand.

once he got himself ready with the bow gripped in his hand and the arrow in his other.

y/n stood next to him, her figure not to far from his.

‘arms up’ she instructed. percy did just that. his eyes staying focused but his mindset focused on her—he didn’t know what it was but he found it a bit difficult to work properly and concentrate with her near him.

‘place the arrow on the bow and aim for the middle, if you can’t that’s fine, but i would be impressed if you ca make it into the middle’ she folded her arms over her chest like always as she waited for percy to shoot his shot at the red dot sitting on the target in front of him.

breathing out he looked to his backside where he was and mumbled—‘what if i can’t make it into the middle like you want?’ he asked. worried for her answer but ready for it.

she bit her lip a bit to make sure her answer was right. quaking up her eyebrows as she shrugged she began to speak—‘there are no what if’s…there are just doing. don't be worried about what others want from you. do what you want.’

she looked at him in his eyes as he looked down into the grass.

what could she possibly mean? how did that even answer his question…to be fair it answered some of it but not all of it. could her response be related to how she feels? could this be his opportunity to learn something about her?

‘okay…right’ he mumbled. she looked ahead while waiting for him to take his shot. percy prepared himself before pulling back his arms and shooting the arrow.

it flew into the air…it flew straight. could he get it? could this be his moment to empress y/n?

watching anxiously as time seem to slow he watched his arrow go straight, straight and soon straight into the dirt that laid behind the standing target.

‘hm…’ y/n mumbled making percy turn to her.

‘i almost had that! it must be the wind—‘

‘there is no wind today…it’s perfectly sunny, no clouds’ y/n looked up at the sky, prompting percy to do the same who of course did as he saw she was right. not a cloud in sight.

‘i—i wasn’t ready’

‘there’s more arrows…make yourself ready. there might come a time where your put up to something and you need to be ready’ she told him.

percy frowned his eyebrows once more and looked at her as he let his arms drop to his side—‘okay, what is up with you and these instagram superhero quotes or something? why do you keep telling me these things?’

‘telling you what things?’ she tilted her head a bit while looking at percy who scoffed.

‘might come a time, need to be ready?there are no what if’s—who says that?’

‘…me?’ she frowned, her eyes bows.

‘obviously you but why? why do you keep telling me these things?’ percy waited for a answer as he was only met with a small smile from y/n.

she walked her way over to him and fixed the beads on his necklace that laid atop his shirt.

‘your beads are in the wrong order…ones chipped?’ she changed the subject, of course. but she was talking, and that’s all the mattered in the moment.

‘i fell—‘

‘you were pushed?’

‘same thing.’ percy mumbled. y/n scoffed a bit while patting his heads over his neck.

‘you can get a new one y’know? if you're not happy with that one’ she looked him in the eyes before he nervously looked away and back at her.

‘i’m okay with it, it’s not like they’re gold or something’ y/n blinked at his response and hummed.

percy couldn’t help but look down at her own beads and saw the fact she had plenty…probably more than annabeth and luke. she had one that looked rare, the rest like the others. her and her shared at least two of them. he still had some time to go.

‘i tell you these things because somebody wasn’t there to tell me…we’re the same age i know, but that doesn't mean anything. i can still tell people things i wished were told to me’ she mumbled.

percy felt his eyes soften at her words and his hands loosen around the arrow that was once tight in his hand.

she wished someone told her the things he’d been telling here? could they be more similar in ways he didn’t know? just then it hit him. he learned something small about y/n. one down plenty to go.

‘wait—weren’t you supposed to train me today? i don’t think i’m well with an arrow yet, and i hear you're pretty good?’ percy tried to make y/n stay after seeing she tried to make her leave.

y/n had her back turned before she turned his way and looked him up and down—‘i couldn’t stay for long, i have others to train…i’ll train you tomorrow morning, i’ll tell luke he can have you in the evening. you better be ready, i don’t go easy’ she told while turning away from percy who stood his spot in the middle of the grass.

she wanted to see him tomorrow.

well…not like that. it’s for training but she didn’t have to offer it, but she did. so? this could mean something.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

‘it has to mean something right?’ percy stressed to grover who groaned while he threw his head back into the bed.

percy’s thoughts raced over and over, could she want to see him? did she want to see him? did she possibly want to know about him just as much as he felt the need to know about her? was this a prank? because if so it wasn’t funny.

after percy had found himself useless in forgetting about it at lunch he rushed us way to grover who had happened to be in his cabin resting. reading a book, with his pajamas on. his day was peaceful until percy threw himself into his cabin like a mad man.

he had been talking to grover about y/n for the past thirty minutes now, non stop.

‘i don’t know…maybe?’

‘but what if it doesn’t mean anything and she’s truly just trying to be a good friend right? wait….do you think she thinks of me as a friend?’ percy had a whole new possibility pop into his head.

‘maybe?’ grover mumbled while holding his head in his hands.

‘maybe? grover! maybe isn’t a answer right now, i really need your help and expertise! you know her right? your like twenty something so you definitely know her, how did she become your friend? how long did it take?’

‘like…two years? i don’t know, she’s reserved and very secretive, very stealthy too’

‘i know, it’s almost like she’s always around without me knowing which is kind of cool and kind of scary’ grover smiled and nodded at this before percy once more continued his speech.

‘but you didn’t answer my other question? how did she become your friend?’

grover wittingly looked up into the ceiling before letting out a breath as he thought.

‘uhm…i don’t know? i just…one day i guess she called me g for the first time as my nickname then after that she started to talks to me a lot more and joke with me?’

‘so, she didn’t really have a way to become your friend she just did?’

‘yeah i guess?’ grover shrugged as percy threw his head back into the bed, his hands over his eyes.

‘this isn’t helping at all grover!’ he whined into his hands as grover laughed and shrugged once more.

‘dude i don’t know im sorry! did you talk to luke?’

‘of course i did, he basically said the same things you're saying…’ percy sat up with a helpless look on his face.

grover felt himself feeling a bit bad and being unhelpful to percy and helping him understand probably one of the most hardest things to understand which was y/n.

grover let an idea pop into his head—

‘listen…she likes (f/f) and (f/c) try like…showing it off as you eat it at breakfast tomorrow and wear your one (f/c) jacket tomorrow, that might get a bit of her attention.’ grover explained while percy nodded.

‘—and if it doesn’t talk to her as you guys train, talk about new york, she’s always wanted to go. talk about anything that she might like…try to make tomorrow about her and maybe you might get five steps into her three hundred doors of being officially her friend’

grover explained slowly and lowly to percy who absorbed everything that he was being told. remembering everything he nodded his what and smiled a bit at grover.

‘thanks grove’ you really do help when you want’ percy teased him as he rolled his eyes—‘i help all the time don’t act like i don’t’ percy laughed making grover do the same.

taglist:

@ifilwtmfc

[crazylittlejester]

LU characters as things me and my friends have said part 4 (?)

Warriors: I’m just a 5’5 twink, I was not built to do landscaping

Twilight, stage whispering to Time: Is he seriously quitting after carrying three bags of mulch-

-

Hyrule, five minutes into the live action ATLA: Why has god cursed me...for the sins of the ancestors I don't even recognize........ why am I cursed to borne mortal flesh..... *collapses on the floor*

Legend: …did you just turn into fucking Shakespeare over AVATAR??

-

Wild: I love my friends so much

Twilight: All your friends are enablers, that’s why you bought a fucking wii, Wild

-

Four: I should be studied by psychologists, they’d find me so interesting

Sky: Aren’t you going to be a psychologist??

Four: Well yes but I can’t study myself

Sky: Why not? Break boundaries

-

Wind: God works in mysterious ways, I’ll get my kneecaps back when I’m straight

Time, with tears in his eyes: W- What-

Wind, pointing at Time’s knees: You better put those bad boys away lest the lord taketh them away

-

Twilight, playing BG3: I feel really bad dressing up Astarion because that’s what Cazador did, but he slays so hard!

Warriors, not looking up from his book: You’re not dressing him up, you’re scuttling over to him like “Bitch, I went shopping!!” and he’s going “OMG QUEEN OMFG SLAY!!” and you’re letting him pick shit to serve in and you’re clapping while he twirls and asks you “IS IT SCREAMING MOTHER??” and you’re shouting back through your tears, “ATE!!!”

Warriors: There’s a difference 💅

[tragedybunny]

hehehe~ perhaps a cute fic with reader and Astarion and he talks about all the parties he used to go to before he was turned- and he dances with you 😳

Anon - So this took on a life of it's own, it reminded me of some of my Tav's backstory, so I worked in some elements of it. I hope it's still good. 🥺

Rhythm Like a Heartbeat - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion and Reader share a dance that reveals more than they planned.

Wyll was teaching Karlach to dance, of all things you'd seen on this journey, this was somehow amongst the most surprising. The Blade and the "Devil" he should've slayed, moving together along with the melody from an enchanted music box someone had picked up along the way. The two of them seemed to be growing closer, and you couldn't be happier for them. You took a long drink from a pilfered wine bottle while you watched, you were all blowing off a little steam, which was well needed. Digging around for Kethric's weakness was a daunting task and the clock inside of all of you was still ticking. "Not rethinking your choices I hope." 

You'd been so lost in thought you hadn't heard Astarion come up behind you. Or he'd intentionally snuck up on you. When he wanted to go unheard or unseen, you usually didn't have a chance of not getting ambushed. Mostly he seemed to enjoy the little jump you made when surprised. Tonight you didn't disappoint, exuding a high-pitched noise along with jumping. "Astarion," you scold, "honestly! And no, of course not, just impressed by Wyll's form." 

"Really," he scoffed, not hiding his jealous streak very well at all, "he looks like a gangly teenage boy at his first gala. Clearly, you haven't had much experience in the ballroom." Part of you wanted to laugh a little, the insult was obviously ridiculous, but you knew his jealousy came from fear that he barely held on to you and could still lose you. Maybe sometime you should use the tadpole to show him just how impossible that would be. If only the thought of it didn’t fill you with revulsion. 

“I didn’t know you were such an expert, love,” you know he feels comfortable with the playful banter, and you hope it pulls him away from that place of insecurity. 

A sharp laugh answers you, “I’ll have you know I had plenty of experience, both in life and unlife.” You shoot him a look, he rarely speaks of life before Cazador, you’re not even sure how much he remembers of it. “What? I had an important job, I knew important people. Or are you just trying to get me to teach you?” An outstretched arm beckons you to join him. For a second you freeze, knowing you’re risking exposing everything you’ve held back. But hells, if you say no, he’ll take it the wrong way entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a quick study.” 

Taking his arm, you let him lead you a distance from the tent, glad Wyll and Karlach are still the center of attention, and gracefully dip your knee as he bows. Gently, one hand takes yours, the other held properly tucked behind his back. The rhythm is an easy one, but you let him take the lead. Soft steps, elaborate turns around one another, your eyes locked with his. Gods, his eyes are breathtaking when he’s looking at you, when his guard is down, soft and shining with light. Tonight, they seem full of mirth, but you’ve seen them overflowing with his sorrow and tears as well. They’ve distracted you and you forget, he’s supposed to be teaching you, your form is too good. 

Step away, one spin, back to back, face each other, palms touching. Skin like ice presses against yours, heating up with the exertion and the emotions humming through your every nerve. One night he asked if it bothered you, lying next to the chill of the grave. You only hugged him tighter and told him not to be ridiculous because you couldn’t find the right words at the time to explain that it was part of who he was and you loved all of him, even the pieces that might not seem loveable. Thinking of it that way now though, you should tell him. 

Another turn, facing away from one another again, a chance to catch your breath. It’s madness how he still affects you, even after you’d confessed to one another, you’re still swooning nervously. He’s right when he calls you “silly girl” teasingly. The finale, one more elaborate twirl, you’re no longer even thinking of the dance, muscle memory taking over. His hand catches yours and you step close to him, closer than the propriety of a noble’s dance floor would’ve ever allowed. Cheekily, he leans forward, stealing a quick kiss. “It would seem you have more talents than you’ve let on.” 

“I…”, you really don’t want to lie to him. The silence stretches far too long. “It would seem so.” 

“Hmm,” you feel him studying you, and you realize his eyes are guarded again, his posture rigid. “So tell me one thing,” you nod, terrified you’re about to shatter that fragile bond you’ve built. Lies by omission are still lies. “Which noble house are you a runaway from?” His voice is cold and hard, the Astarion you met on the beach that fateful day. How fast he can change wounds you, just like that, he’s ready to be done with you. But it’s your fault, you know how years of horror have left him with walls he’s too quick to bring up. “Or do you want to keep lying to me?” 

You shake your head. “I wish I could say.” 

“And here I thought we really had something, but clearly,” he gestures wildly, unable to contain his rising temper. 

Stinging tears begin to prick your eyes. “No, no, I wish I could say,” you emphasize, praying he’ll understand. 

Suddenly, he stills, hand coming to your cheek, eyes wide. “Is this a warlock thing?” A thumb brushes away the tear that escaped and you hear agonized regret in his voice. “Oh darling, I’m sorry, don’t cry.” Arms pull you into his chest. “Please, I didn’t realize, it’s fine.” 

“I wanted to tell you,” you sniffle into his shirt.

“Hush love, you can tell me what you’re able to, when you’re ready. Although I must insist you consider us even for any prior deception of mine. Even ones you haven’t realized yet.” He laughs that awkward, nervous laugh that happens when he’s upset, but he’s trying so you let yourself giggle a bit. “There’s my girl. Now how about we dance again and no holding back? I need to know if I can actually keep up with you.” 

The music box is still playing but you’re no longer aware of anyone else in the camp. There’s only the two of you, softly and slowly moving together. Gone are the thoughts of the elaborate courtly show, you move by instinct, bodies responding to one another as you press close together. Then you still, let yourself be wrapped in his arms, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “I can at least tell you that you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had.” 

“Never doubted it my sweet,” you feel him kiss the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

[katyawriteswhump]

Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated: 

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit. 

Among the seven, was Steve. 

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner? 

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’” 

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back. 

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.” 

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life. 

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.”  Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

[morriganofcrowsandwar]

Hey I’m baaaaackkk! I’m on season five of The Magnus Archives now whoops! Uhm yeah it’s been quite a lot but here are my thoughts because Jesus Christ there are many. First of all Season four Recap:

#1)Peter Lukas is fucking dead and honestly I’m a bit sad. I think it’s hilarious that the entire thing with Martin literally boiled down to a bet between him and Elias. Also they were so gay like is anyone in this show straight???? lol I loved their little lover’s quarrel it’s so cute these old men(eldritch horrors) are so funny.

#2) SIMON FUCKING FAIRCHILD IS MY FAVORITE PERSON EVER! He basically slipped and fell into being an avatar(quite fitting I suppose) and he’s just a rad old man. Like all the stories about him made him seem so silly and then we met him and he was lol. ALSO MICHAEL CREW IS DEAD AND I WANT TO KILL DAISY FOR IT! AGH I LIKED THE GUY! This is why we can’t have nice things, fucking Daisy always ruins them.

#3) Continuing the topic of Daisy I do actually like her(except for her bullshit with abusing her position as a police officer). She’s one of the only people in the series that genuinely seemed to be trying to get better. Although it was all in vain she did end up being a pretty cool wolf dog thingy so that’s neat I guess. Meanwhile Basira doesn’t want to put up with this shit anymore. She hated it the second she got stuck. I think she’s simultaneously my favorite and least favorite character, but then again I feel that way about basically everybody in this story. Moral ambiguity is basically the entire podcast’s premise at this point. The point is Daisy has been a lost cause from the start and Basira is badass and deserves so much better than all of this.

#4) I love Martin so so much actually he’s grown so much and I adore him. I want to put him in a jar and shake him. Boi stood up for himself and just said “No” . Bro did not care he just knew he wasn’t letting Peter win. What a legend gotta love him.

#5)Small blurb about Melanie because I love her. She’s blind now but that’s alright because SHES DATING GEORGIE HEHE YAAAAYYY!!! I think it’s awesome and it’s just fitting that she gets her happy ending yk cause she spent her whole life fighting and now she has peace. I adore her and Georgie. BRO GEORGIE?? She’s AMAZING like she is genuinely such a great person and is just looking out for people and also keeping herself intact like what a queen. Slay.

#6) Okay fine I guess I’ll talk about Jon lol, he’s still definitely my favorite(although Martin is not far behind) and I adore the writing of his descent into an actual avatar of the eye. Also hehehehe he killed Peter Lukas and ventured right into the lonely just get Martin! Ah! I love love! That’s so sweet I’m actually still giddy about them. Martin is so soft with Jon and now Jon is really trying to make up for the past and the time lost. And I guess yeah he got tricked into starting the apocalypse but like does it matter? Everyone else he knows is dead or dying bro it’s really not that upsetting at this point. Except for fucking MELANIE AND GEORGIE AGH I genuinely NEED them to be okay. Like gosh just stay inside babies you’ll be fine. Anyways the apocalypse is so fun and I’m drawing it

P.s. I’m sorry I’ve been away. My partner got me into Arcane and it turned into a full blown hyper-fixation so hehe. I will be posting the art of that too at some point but I also hope I’ll update more often as I listen to season five. Also this podcast has consumed my life so much that my partner just changed their name to Martyn because they were yk in the market for a new one and I suggested it soooo ha I feel slightly crazy lol

[beachbabe000]

A stiff // Matt sturniolo

description: Matt disapproves of your date

Warnings: Smut, the usual things that come with smut, fem reader.

It’s been about 9 months since me and Matt had broken up. Still being friends with his brothers though you still hang out. Which has been harder for him than it has me. It makes sense because I was the one who broke up with him.

It’s been hard for me as well. But he’s visibly uncomfortable every time you see each other. I still try to keep things friendly. It’s not like I wanted to lose him completely as a friend. We did start as friends and it was a good friendship, but we’re currently still in the process of fixing it.

Which is probably why the day all of us were out eating and I mentioned that I had a date that weekend, he got upset.

“What? A date?” He asked in a obviously upset way. We all looked over at him. “Yes?” you respond. You didn’t think that at this point it would be that big of a deal. You haven’t gone out with anyone since they broke up.

“Matt chill. Don’t freak out.” Nick says to him. “How could I not freak out Nick?” Nick gives him a confused look. Every one else seemed to think the same as you about the whole situation. “It’s just a date dude. It’s not the end of the world.” Chris chimes in, mouth full of his burger. Matt starts to get up and grabs his key, “I’m gunna wait in the car.” He walks out of the restaurant. I’m watching him from behind as he leaves. “Dude. Don’t worry about him. He’s just still salty.”

I look at Chris, “But how? It’s been 9 months. It’s been almost a year.” Nick goes to open his mouth to respond but Chris interrupts him. “He’s just still in love with you.” My eyes widen. “Chris! Don’t fucking interrupt me.” Then looks over at me again. “Don’t let that hold you back though. You can do whatever you want. It’s your life.” I nodded, looking down at my fries. It did affect me, but Nicks right.

The day of your date you were over at their house. Nick was helping you pick out an outfit. “Slay. I hated the other one. This one’s it.” Sitting in his bed against the headboard fiddling with some random object. I took a deep breath looking at myself in the mirror. “You sure?” “Oh yeah. You look amazing.” I nodded, “Okay, well, here goes nothing.”

He had pulled up to their house to pick you up, it was the easiest since you were hanging out with Nick. You pull the door open and get in, “Hey! Thanks for picking me up.” He doesn’t even glance in my direction. “Yeah no problem. So i’ve got a pretty cool place picked out. I think you’ll enjoy it.” As he starts driving. “Okay cool. I’m excited.” A smile plastered on your face.

What you didn’t know was, someone was watching from their window as you drove away.

You were halfway through dinner. Things were going well. He was super polite, very sweet. Though he seemed a bit boring. “I’ll be right back.” You say as you start to stand up. “Where are you going?” He asks, giving a hard stare. You were taken aback by this response. “The bathroom?” You say pushing your chair back in. “Sure, you can go.” I furrowed my eyebrows. Did he just give me permission to go to the bathroom? I didn’t realize I needed to ask.

I walk to the bathroom shaking my head at the audacity. Once I’m done and washing my hands I get a phone call. I look down at my phone to see it’s Matt. “Yes Matt?” I answer, slightly annoyed he’s calling me in the middle of my date.

“Your date looks like a stiff.” A confused expression crossed my face. “What do you mean? You didn’t even see him.” His next response caught me off guard. “I bet he can’t even kiss you as good as I can. If it were me I would have already bent you over that bathroom sink, no fucks given on who walked in.” My eyes widened. What the fuck. “Matt did you follow me?!” You kind of yell into the phone. Though he was kind of right. Matt was not nearly as uptight as this guy was.

“Why don’t you ditch him and come out to my car. I can show you a better time.” “Seriously Matt? You have no right to pull this shit.” He chuckles on the other end. “Come out to the car y/n. You won’t regret it. This guy looks like he can’t even eat pussy good. I know you miss the way I make you feel.” Your thighs clench together. He wasn’t wrong. But you felt some kind of way about just leaving your date. “I’ll be waiting outside. You know where to go.” I shook my head and hung up on him with no answer.

I walk back to my table and take my seat. “Why were you gone so long?” I look at him. “I had something in my eye. It took a minute to get it out.” “Hmph.” I watch as they bring our food out and sit it in front of us. “Excuse me, this isn’t what I ordered.” He says to the waitress. I look at his plate, it’s exactly what he ordered. “Sorry sir, what is it I can get you?” She asks politely. “Better service. You can’t even comprehend a simple request. You just lost 5% of your tip.”

My eyes widened at him. “Are you serious?” I ask completely appalled by his actions. “What?” He looks at me with disgust. I sigh. I take my napkin and place it on the table. “Excuse me, I need some fresh air.” I start to get up. “Did I say you could leave?” He leans back and crosses his arms. I chuckle and roll my eyes. “You, have no right, to tell me anything.” I storm out of the restaurant.

Walking outside in a very angry manner I start walking down the sidewalk, my heels clicking on the ground. I’m looking around trying to find Matts car. Luckily, he pulled right up next to me coming to a stop. Rolling down the window he calls out, “Get in princess.” With a shit eating grin, knowing he was right. I give him a “watch it” look and reach out to open the door. I slam the door next to me and cross my arms. He glances over to me, looking me up and down. “Seems like that went well.” He chuckles. “Matt, don’t”

We’re driving down the road. “Where are we going?” You ask. He shrugs his shoulders. “Wherever you want to go.” Placing a hand on my thigh and squeezing it. I can’t lie that this response made my legs squeeze together. He smirked knowing what just happened. He started to squeeze my thigh again, rubbing his hand up and down. “Where do you want to go sweetheart?” He looks over at me, seeing the state he’s put my in. My arms still crossed but visibly becoming turned on. He moves his hand up higher, bringing my tight black dress with it. My breath hitches.

He was right. I don’t think anyone would be able to make me feel how he could. “hmm?” He’s trying to get me to answer and I’m just trying keep myself from getting too wet at his touch. He was taunting and teasing me at this point, knowing the affect he has on me. I sighed out as his hand skimmed the outline of my pussy. “Anywhere.” I breathed. “You got it.”

He pulled us into a dimly lit parking lot and put the car in park. Not removing his hand, he uses the other one to grab the back of my neck and pull me to his mouth. I kissed him back immediately. Wrapping my hands in his hair. He moved his mouth to my neck. “Get in the back.” He breathed into my ear. I quickly obliged and we got out of the car and got into the back. He grabbed me as soon as we shut the doors, pulling me under him and grabbing my leg pulling it up to his hip. His other hand went back to my pussy, rubbing circles on my clit. I moaned into his mouth. He pushed the dress up over my hips and pulled off my thong.

As soon as he had it off he moved down and put my knees over his shoulders, diving into my warmth. He was rough, sensual, and most importantly really good at what he was doing. “Fuck” I breathed out as he sucked on my clit. He chuckles into me sending vibrations through my body. “Oh my god Matt.” I grabbed onto his locks. He removed his mouth and looked up at me, pushing a finger in and pumping it in and out. “Who’s pussy is this?” He asks in a husky tone. My head is back against the doors armrest, unable to move. “Sweetheart?” He starts pumping faster. “Ugh” I groan out. “Who’s?” He asks again, putting another finger in. “Yours” I moaned out. “Sorry I didn’t hear you.” He adds a third finger. “Oh my god. Yours Matt!” I loudly moan out his name.

He chuckles and dives back in licking circles on my clit. Pumping his fingers in and out. It was too much. I start squirming under him. “Matt I can’t I, fuck” He uses his other hand to hold my hips down, keeping me still. “Come on baby. Let go.” As soon as those words left his mouth I came.

He removes his hands and mouth and moves up to hover over me. “I told you he was a stiff. Did you really think anyone could do this better than I can?” I just looked up at him, too out of breath to speak. He smiled down at me. His pants were already unbuttoned as I used my feet to kick them and his boxers down. He chuckles looking down at my feet. “Did you want something?” He asks, rubbing my hair from my face. I groan. “Matt.” “What do you want?”

“Matt you know what I want.” I pull him closer to me by his shirt and kiss him. Between kisses he asks again, “What do you want? Tell me.” I throw my head back against the arm rest again, “Fuck” He’s rubbing his naked cock against me now. “Fuck me Matt.”

He takes that as the go to and rams himself into me. Over and over again, hard. It doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, his stamina is amazing and always has been. I can’t stop myself from moaning his name. And he takes so much joy in that.

“Say it again,” He says between thrusts, “Who’s pussy is this?” His thrusts becoming deeper and deeper. I groan uncontrollably, “Yours Matt, yours.” He groans looking down at me. “you ever gunna let someone else have it?” I’m so close at this point I can’t contain myself, “No never again” I moaned, “Maaatttt” I moaned so loud as I come on to his dick.

With that he moaned out my name and lost everything.

We fell down beside each other in the back of the car.

I look over at him, locking lips in a passionate kiss. Breaking away, I look into his eyes. Those ocean blues. “Thank you for following me” I whispered into his mouth. “My pleasure angel.” He breathes into mine. We meet into another kiss before heading back to his house.

[ladykailitha]

Exit Eddie Pursued by a Steve Part 1

Hello and welcome to one-shot Saturdays, the day I put out short completed (most of the time) fics for you wonderful readers.

This week we have the completed Smut to Fluff fic I had been working on on WIP Wednesdays. This has three parts. I started writing part four last Wednesday but it got angsty and not where I wanted the story to go. So those extra bits have been saved for another story somewhere down the line that it fits better in.

18+ under the cut.

****

Eddie had been on his way to the band room for his weekly “meeting” of the Hellfire Club. They had to have in there this week due to the unfortunate fact that the school musical was currently being preformed and they actually needed the drama room closet.

Suddenly a gaggle of people came tearing out of the stage in a hurry. The last of which was someone in a large red wig and bright yellow dress. But Eddie knew those hazel eyes anywhere.

He let out a low whistle. “Looking gorgeous there, Harrington.”

Steve skidded to a stop in his kitten heels and turned to see who had cat-called him.

“Yeah?” Steve said to him under half-shut eyes. “You like what you see, Munson?”

Eddie gave an appraising glance up and down. “I do indeed.”

“Too bad I have to change out of it,” Steve teased.

Eddie shook his head sadly. “Now, why would you want to go and do a thing like that?”

Steve laughed. “Because I’m in the next scene, and I ain’t wearing this!”

Eddie laughed, too. “Damn shame.”

Steve looked around and then hurried over to him. “If you like it that much, meet me after the play.”

He winked and then gathered up his skirt and ran for the changing room.

Eddie was still standing there when Jeff, Gareth, and Brian came up behind him.

“Who was the broad?” Brian asked.

Eddie licked the top row of his teeth. “That was no broad, gentlemen. That was King Steve in a ballgown.”

“Wait, what?” Jeff asked, his face screwed up in confusion. “No way.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie hummed. “And I’m pretty sure he just asked me backstage after the play for a little action.”

All three other boys turned to him in shock.

“Ain’t no way,” Gareth hissed. “It’s probably some prank to have the basketball team jump you or something.”

Eddie grinned. “Come on, boys. We’ve got dragons to slay before they kick us out of the band room, too.”

They all followed him to the band room, a little confused on what just happened.

*

Steve waited nervously after getting one of the orchestra to help him back into the dress. The wig and makeup were gone, as were the shoes. Those things pinched.

His dress swished back and forth as he paced, wringing his hands.

“Oh.”

Steve stopped pacing and turned to the open door. Eddie stood there with an expression that Steve couldn’t quite make out.

“I have to know before we do this,” he rambled. “Are you wanting to do this because you thought I was beautiful as a girl? Or because you thought I looked beautiful in the dress?”

Eddie paused for a moment. “That is a very important distinction and one you are right in asking, sweetheart.”

Steve blushed deeply.

Eddie crowded his space and lifted his chin gently, “You look beautiful, Stevie.”

He gasped and Eddie dived on in, pressing their lips together. Instantly, Steve’s tongue tangled with his.

Eddie pulled away reluctantly. “We are definitely doing this.”

Steve nodded. “Just try not to get anything on the dress itself, otherwise I’ll be murdered by the drama teacher.”

Eddie chuckled darkly. “You’ve got it, babe.”

*

When Eddie walked in the room, Steve appeared coy. Shy even. And then when Steve asked why he was interested in fucking him in that dress, he suddenly got it.

“Anyone ever take care of you, Stevie?” he murmured, slowly pulling up the folds of the dress to get at those delicious thighs.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve only had sex with girls. They tend to expect you to do all the work.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Eddie cooed. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

Steve threw his head back and moaned as Eddie caressed the sides of his thighs.

“That’s it,” Eddie purred, mouthing along the expanse of Steve’s neck, “you sound so good.”

He tucked the dress behind his beautiful cock and sank to his knees.

Steve’s hands immediately buried into Eddie’s hair, pulling him all the way onto his cock.

Eddie lifted one of Steve’s legs and tucked it over his shoulder. He took the spit and slick from his blowjob and coated his fingers.

He pressed one finger into Steve and the boy let out the most delicious sounds.

Eddie wished he could swallow them up, but he would have to settle for swallowing Steve down entirely.

He continued to open Steve up and suck him off. Suddenly Steve was coming in ribbons down Eddie’s throat.

Eddie stood up and kissed Steve dirtily, mouth still slick with his cum.

Steve let out a low whine, taking in as much of Eddie as he could.

Eddie gathered up the skirt of the dress and pressed into to Steve’s hands. “Hold on tight to that, darling. We don’t want to get anything on it, right?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie lined himself up and slowly pierced Steve’s ass.

“Eddie!” he cried. “Oh god!”

Eddie took that as encouragement and slid all the way to the hilt.

Steve wanted to gripped the back of Eddie’s shirt and fist his hair, but his hands were occupied by the skirt of his dress. He held on tight, barely holding on as Eddie fucked him wildly.

Soon Eddie was coming into Steve, in rough, hopeless waves.

Steve let out a breathless sigh. “God, oh fuck.” He moved to lower his hands but Eddie stopped him.

“We need to get you out of this dress first, darlin’,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, “then you can lower your arms, all right?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Eddie giggled at how far gone Steve was. He removed the dress and hung everything up their proper places, while Steve laid there prone, panting for air.

Once Steve was able to catch his breath, he asked, “How did you know where everything went?”

Eddie turned back to him with a grin. “This is where my club meets for D&D. Hellfire, ever heard of it?”

Steve nodded. “I’ve got these kids I babysit that love that game. It’s all they’ve been talking about when it comes to picking out classes and clubs for next year.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow and sat down to watch Steve clean up himself and get dressed. He wondered where it was all going to go from there. Would Steve throw him out? Punch him? Mock him?

“I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else,” Steve muttered darkly as he ran his hand through his hair. He stood there in sweatpants and ratty old sweater, looking every bit as beautiful as he had in the dress.

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, big boy? How’s that?”

“I don’t think I’ve come so hard in my life.”

Eddie cackled. “Right back atcha, sweetheart.”

Steve blushed and walked over to stand between Eddie’s legs. “We’ve had dessert, what would you say to a late dinner?”

Eddie smiled up at him and then pulled him down for a kiss. “Sounds perfect, Stevie.”

*

“I call bullshit,” Brian said the next morning at their lockers when Eddie told them. “There is no way you sucked Harrington’s dick.”

“Did a slight more than that, Bri,” Eddie crowed.

Jeff frowned. “Prove it.” He jutted his chin across the hall. “There’s your boy as you say. Go get him.”

“And even if it is true,” Gareth growled. “There is no way he’d associate with you in the middle of the whole fucking school. He’s going to break your heart and we’ll have to pick up the pieces.”

“Watch and learn, boys,” Eddie said.

He strutted across the hall to Steve and placed his hand on the locker by Steve’s head.

Steve turned around. “Oh, hey, Eddie.”

Eddie smirked. “Morning, princess.”

Steve leaned against the lockers and laughed. “I’m the ugly step-sister, remember. Not the princess.”

“You were as pretty as one last night,” Eddie teased.

Steve grinned and put his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Hmm...that kind of talk is what got us in that position in the first place.”

Eddie grinned right back, putting his hands on Steve’s waist. “You saying flattering works on you, sweetheart?”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “I’m saying it doesn’t hurt.”

They kissed.

“Am I going to see you at lunch?” Eddie asked, pressing their foreheads together.

Steve shook his head. “You have first lunch and I have second.”

“So cruel,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing a patch of bare skin between Steve’s jeans and where his sweater had risen up because of his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“I’ll see you after school, okay?”

Eddie nodded. “It’ll be torment until I see you again.”

“For me, too,” Steve breathed.

And then Eddie was digging his fingers into Steve’s sides, tickling him.

“Eddie!” Steve protested, laughing.

Eddie leaned forward and kissed the smile off his face. “Later, Princess.”

“Later, Eds.”

Eddie turned and walked away.

“Eddie!” Steve called out. “Catch!”

Eddie managed to catch whatever it was on sheer instinct. He looked at it to see that it was Steve’s varsity basketball ring.

“Hold on to that for me,” he said with a smile. “It’s special to me.”

Eddie saluted and practically skipped back to his friends.

Steve laughed, shaking his head fondly.

****

Part 2 Part 3

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[saywhatjessie]

We Should Just Kiss Like Real People Do

Advent Calendar Day 6! (prompts by @raven-cincaide-words) Today’s prompts: Picking a Mistletoe | Secret Relationship | Jealousy  Fandom: D20: Misfits and Magic - Pairing: SamEvan 1.5k[Ao3]

Evan had spent three winters in the Uk, but this was the first time he was doing Christmas.

He and his friends had fought the variant of Tedershacourt that first Christmas, and he kind of figured all holidays with friends meant little adventures and slaying monsters. It’s what he was good at, so he didn’t really mind.

But living with Sam had taught him about other stuff he was good at. He was good at keeping a home if he knew he could stay. He was good at grocery shopping and finding the best deals, and he was good at drawing baths and remembering to take the trash out.

It turned out, Even was good at being kept. Which was amazing news for him since that was all he’d ever wanted.

He wasn’t good at keeping secrets, though.

“Hey, there’s my boy!” Jammer crowed, pulling Evan into a dap and then a hug. Evan hugged him back, clapping him on his shoulders  without hitting his wings.

“Hey, there Jammer.” Evan gave him a small smile. “How was the flight?”

“Oh, I’m getting real good at the albatross thing,” Jammer said. “I was worried when it got colder I wouldn’t be able to find that warm current to lock into but no I got it! It’s there!”

“I love that for you, man, never doubted you for a second.”

Jammer laughed, clapping Evan on the back again before going to greet Sam.

Everyone knew Evan was crashing with Sam. After their last adventure where they saved magic on spring break, it was universally decided that Evan couldn’t stay in his weird apartment full of tape marking a place for everything but himself. And Sam had offered and Evan wanted to live in a big treehouse with all his friends forever so if this was a way for him to get part of that dream, he’d take it.

That’s the part everyone knew. Everyone didn’t know that Sam and Evan slept in the same bed. And Evan was allowed to kiss Sam now – was in fact encouraged to kiss her. His friends didn’t know that they held hands on the couch and Sam introduced him to her celebrity friends as ‘my boyfriend, Evan.’

Not even “My haunted white boyfriend,” just “my boyfriend”. Evan felt like he was in a fairytale.

But it was a secret. Because of K. Because they were all best friends and Sam and K were best friends and Evan was a dirty homie hopper who just desperately wanted his friends to still love him even when he was selfishly letting himself be kept.

Sam did not think the secrecy was necessary. She thought K would be cool, Jammer would be supportive, and no one would be weird.

Except she was already wrong because Evan would be weird. So they were keeping it a secret for now.

Or trying to.

K arrived next and they all said hello and Evan was desperately trying to be normal. It was so much harder now: since he’d gotten the boon from Tadershacourt and decided to stop masking, it had become so much more comfortable to just be himself. To be honest and off putting and naturally Kelmp. And now he was trying to put on an act again and it fit like a school uniform he’d grown out of. Like pants he’d owned when he hadn’t had enough to eat. It chafed and made him sweaty: two things that would definitely give him away.

“Oh, I’m so glad you guys are here!” Sam said, her hands still holding K’s as she smiled at their friends. Evan couldn’t help but smile back at her. She had the most beautiful smile in the world. “Evan and I just walked past the Christmas market in town and I didn’t let myself shop around because I wanted to wait for both of you to get here but now I really want to go back because they had such cute stuff.”

“Ah, man, I don’t know how much shit I can fly with,” Jammer said, frowning.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! If you buy anything I’ll ship it for you! Or I can have my assistant ship it for you. Or, really, she's T2's assistant. T2 has found it so much easier dealing with business when she has a human to handle the one-on-ones for him.”

“Oh, T2 got an assistant?” K said, gripping onto Sam’s hands and bouncing on their toes. “What a little mover and shaker.”

“I know! And she’s really helped T2 and Evan reconcile.”

Evan smiled again, closed lips, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. What really helped Evan and T2 reconcile was Evan deciding he couldn’t have beef with a teacup pig who wasn’t even trying to be Sam’s dog and T2 accepted that Evan was going to sometimes sit at Sam’s feet and that was okay.

Evan wasn’t sure if they were friends, but Evan hadn’t had to threaten him with a tapout again.

They obviously went to the Christmas market because Sam wanted to go to the Christmas market and Sam was kind of the person in charge always. 

Jammer and K, not new to visiting London but still visitors instead of residents like Evan and Sam, quickly lost them as they ran around the market, other patrons having to duck out of the way of Jammer’s wings.

Which left Evan and Sam to walk at a leisurely pace through the market stalls. Evan would have normally taken Sam’s hand. He liked holding her hand and in the past few months she’d managed to convince him she liked it too. He was comfortable, now, being the one to reach out to her. And she was so happy and proud of him for it.

But he didn’t let himself hold her hand here. This was a secret. He didn’t want to upset his friends because he was selfish.

Sam took his hand, pulling him along behind her as she also ran off. This was a good compromise – Sam was so smart. He smiled at her, stumbling after her as she pulled him along.

She towed him to stall after stall, always buying at least one thing to support the business and having Evan carry it in his backpack. His backpack was usually mostly empty these days but he still carried it. For Sam.

They were at a holiday botanical tent when Evan felt the familiar whoosh of Jammer’s wings. He looked up, expecting to see Jammer hovering over them, and he was. Holding a sprig of mistletoe.

“Uh oh!” Jammer said, grinning and posing in midair. “Looks like some people havta kiss.”

Evan immediately started stuttering and Sam just smiled up at him.

“If you’re holding it, Jammer, does that mean we have to kiss you too?”

Jammer pulled his body up higher, reaching his hand way below himself. The flapping of his wings to keep him in place was causing a lot of chaos ont he ground. “I’m not below it! I’m above it! I’m not a kissee in this case!”

“Yup!” Called K and Evan whipped around to see her crouching like a gargoyle on one of the tents. “Jammer and I are safely above. You too, though?” They sighed, dreamily, beginning their clasped hands to their cheek like the Disney princess they sometimes were. “Caught under the mistletoe. One of the sweetest holiday tropes of all time.”

Evan gaped, slightly. “And you’re cool with that?”

K pulled a face like  ‘Duh’. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Then they seemed to realize. “Oh! Because we used to–? Oh, Evan! New season new pairings! Come on, dude!”

“Is that why you’ve been so weird?” Jammer asked, looking like he was gonna try to land next to K but thinking better of it. “Evan, man, kiss her! We want you to! You want to! She wants you to! It’s all good!”

K started chanting “kiss her kiss her kiss her” and it then other patrons started joining in “kiss her kiss her kiss her” and Evan looked at Sam who was smiling at him, beautiful as always, but a little nervous. Like she knew this wasn’t what Evan wanted. Like she was afraid he’d run away and leave her unkissed.

But Evan would never do that. As long as Sam was there, smiling at him like she did, and wanting him to kiss her, he would.

So he did. And the gathered patrons erupted before quickly losing interest and their friends applauded from above them and Evan bought the mistletoe. 

Because his friends picked it. Just like they’d picked him. And as long as Evan and Sam kept picking each other, it felt important to honor that choice.

And also because his shadow got in the habit of popping up with the mistletoe at random moments so he and Sam would kiss. Which was nice.

If Christmases could always be like this – no adventures or monsters to fight – Evan thought that might be okay.