#do the same just drop dead. UGH!

[dinoswordsb]

Thought of u

THIS IS AWESOME....HI MY SWEETIES

[queen-scribbles]

.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

among the boundless billions zaniness like laugh track as it definitely has that moment of expressing "rolling my eyes as The Left makes a kerfuffle of Acting like they have a stance as a veneer over the true belief that [xyz] is cool & chill actually" like what, approximate 0.000% chance wendy isn't, as usual, given the Objective Stance of "yeah yeah ohh we are cancelling involved parties talking about how we Don't watch this But. we all love this damn epic movie & already have it memorized so shut the fuck up, kids today" like. don't wanna really delve into how much billions thinks taylor or anyone is "really" trans / nonbinary like not too much benefit of the doubt in this material including what does provide info abt that specifically

& the general like [head in hands. what do you think any of this could possibly be about (you're the one that made your show at all about Power)] of "yes, it's bad/wrong to be someone that someone has done something to / victim of something" like that to be anti misogyny All Women Must Be Epic Winners b/c there's something to be proved: that they don't Deserve to be victims (of misogyny), not taken as a Given. while when we see some epic winner men stepping on other men (who need not all be guaranteed Winners so as to say misogyny is wrong), that's often Good, well beyond any assumption that various forms of basic disrespect / violation / patterns of emergent/entrenched power difference as Bad (for being things done to people, not for there being people they're being done to), & generally billions has to take an extra step when ppl get shitted on & tell us the Specific Cases when it was undeserved actually & someone was being mean to a specific person who didn't deserve that. & the specific cases when hey guess it wasn't that bad(tm) or when hey It's Okay that you're someone something was done to, in this case. & tell us what we were supposed to know all along like when someone who something was being done to (wrong Of Them, whether b/c they inherently deserve it no matter what, &/or b/c they failed to be someone who could make it Impossible to do anything to them, which, how do you do that besides being The Authority / Superior yourself, exactly? nonrhetorically? what if the in group vs out group / fascism / authoritarianism protected Me?) was actually being treated Too Well b/c ah well the abuse meant you were getting any attention, maybe it meant you were claimed as any superior's property, maybe it meant you weren't Already disposed of, as all Losers were in the end, You're Welcome.

obviously referring to winston where it's spelled out all the abuse towards him was deserved, & More than he deserved in the case of rian having more access & taking advantage of that, all for billions' enjoying its own sendoff there of, again, maximizing violation & violence short of [real violence is physical & leaves bruises / draws blood / Literally kills] which would be distasteful in general But doesn't it make wags look like the winner & winston the loser is that the former's completely unrelated completely impersonal ego blow gets way amplified taken out on winston, the most vulnerable recurring character when spyros as [first & ultimate Everyone Hates Him role] is more entrenched in there & billions still magnanimously pities tuk, as it does winston too, just not quite as much. again that like completely surface level realized power fantasy of forcing the mirror up to the Inferior so they're like nooo my inferiorityyyy & in doing so like, the projection in that lmao, we get it re: the valuing of & need(tm) for such Power Tripping & Reaffirming My Superiority & My Ego Restored; Everyone Claps like good god. & then for all ben & tuk are the slightly softer Two Too Nice Boys duo to the rian & winston quant duo, also like too nice i guess but not as much, ben is in charge of tuk but Any instance of rian being in charge of winston outstrips them in that "yay interpersonal abuse" dynamic, like then in the end billions may be like "yeah it's possible to be mean to them unlike how being mean to winston is actually Nice b/c he deserves everything he gets, we only vicariously enjoy it vs Feeling Bad for tuk & ben sometimes (still magnanimously & it's Not That Bad / just goofin)" like ben & tuk still Fail by not being people it's impossible to do anything to. & not Exceptions who anyone is really being Too Mean to. like if they were women, in which case, no problem surely with a "positive" kind of victim blaming where there is something Inherent that Will be victimized so hey how about to cancel that out there's this special Paternal Protection you Need always, Or Else? :) but instead they are men who are asian & is ben gay & w/tuk & winston nobody mentions glasses or fatness but billions doesn't really do much or very in depth textual mentioning of Anything, even w/nonzero mention that there may be gender & race in this world. a gay man, once. no disability. we just Know who are the inferiors who deserve it when they're treated inferiorly, or if they don't, they start deserving it when they fail to stop/avoid it, but if you start mentioning the factors behind who we all totally agree is inferior like whoa nobody was Saying any of that? being the real agent of oppression on the basis of the factors only You spelled out, much? nonbinary? i never say anything about the Gender Binary when i'm subscribing to it, sounds like You've created & enforced it. obfuscation & deflection onto [so Just Normal nobody has to label, explain, or argue it] couldn't serve a purpose & protect the existing power differences as they are. maybe You're the problem? perhaps you brought it upon yourself & now you're causing too much trouble standing up for yourself while everyone else's criticism is laser focused on you as the prior & continuing negative actions done to you are taken as a given / unquestioned / covertly protected to overtly encouraged?

anyway so wild if the Completely Normal(tm) Victim Blaming is uncritically recreated & oft embraced for "if you're watching this & don't wish you were axe / find him appealing" [billions as a sequence of vicarious power trips] purposes in this series....but a bit wild considering like this is your multiseason show that wasn't just purporting to be those power trips for [enough demographic & apparently specific personal tastes overlap w/creators] & was at all purporting to question the matters of power at play in the material, or yknow, at least to not be completely superficial material while said material is textually & thematically all about power difference being leveraged, how, the consequences, & so on. thus i will have to intermittently talk about it forever like this like lord unbelievable. & the funny little & sometimes less funny less little characters it has trapped in there so that those of us who were never meant to be in the audience can be cursed with this knowledge. like i have some feedback. "imagine not victim blaming" & "imagine adjusting your perspective can go beyond superficial layers added to politely defer to some other ppl while they're present but really like cmon do they deserve that. am i not just saying what we're allll thinking"

[misayani]

Okay, this is a bit of an odd request, but could you write a threesome between No-el, Se-Mi, and the Fem!reader? Like both No-el and Se-Mi are ganging up on the reader to fuck hard enough for her to see stars.

I don't really have a plot in mind. Maybe another contestant was flirting with the reader and they both get jealous so they corner her in the bathrooms? And the reader is more than willing to fuck them too.

Thank you so much!

NOBODY KNOWS — NO-EUL (GUARD 011) & SE-MI (PLAYER 380) 

◜ pairing ... no-eul / guard 011 & se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜you knew you were fucked, as you managed to get two women jealous over you.

𔗨 author's note — came ten times writing this so i apologize if i took so long /j. lets just pretend mi-na's still alive and happy in this fic <33 (i needed this no-eul fic as much as you guys do because theres little to no fics about her and im so sad and I JUST NEED HER.) [lowercase intended]

♡ upcoming fic — se-mi + comfort 

warning: smut [threesome, fingering, oral] 

"ugh, get off meeee!" mi-na tries to wiggle you off as you cling tighter onto her arm. right now was your second game, and they had asked everyone to team up into five— your team included you and mi-na, thanos, nam-su, and se-mi who had been acting distant ever since you guys sat down waiting for your team's turn.

you were sat in between mi-na and se-mi, the latter who had been sneaking glances to the both of you without you noticing. 

"i'm scared, what if i mess up?" you unconfidently mutter to your bestfriend, who looked at you with an expression that read 'are you kidding me?'

"babe, i've seen you play gonggi ever since we were kids. and there was not a single time where you missed catching. you won't mess it up." mi-na said, grabbing your hand to reassure you.

"you've known each other since kids?" se-mi spoke up beside you, making you both turn your heads to her. your lips form into a polite smile, she finally spoke. 

"yes, we were neighbours but she actually used to bully me—" mi-na cuts you off as she rolls her eyes, "yah! don't just go and tell some nobody shit about us." she nudges you as se-mi scoffs.

"the fuck you mean nobody? if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have made it past first game." your smile drops as se-mi speaks, well it was true— if it weren't for her catching you during 'green light red light', you would've been dead by now.

"you bitch—!" mi-na started but you immediately jumped in, "it's fine. not a big deal." you shoot your bestfriend a look to calm her down. please, not now.

mi-na flips her hair and crosses her arms against her chest, turning her attention to the purple-haired man beside her, who called himself thanos. he notices her and smiles, starting a conversation with her.

you turn to look at se-mi and give her an apologetic smile, "i'm sorry about her. she acts the same for everyone, if that makes you feel better." se-mi rolls her eyes, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she darts her eyes back to the contestants currently playing. 

you just pressed your lips together in a thin line at her lack of response before you turned your head back to also watch as you fiddled with your fingers anxiously.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

 "can't it be our turn already? my ass is starting to hurt from sitting." you hear mi-na complain under her breath. you roll your eyes playfully as thanos smirks, "don't you worry babe, i'll massage it for you later." nam-su—you think that's his real name. thanos calls him nam-gyu, despite nam-su correcting him many times already until he got tired and just let it be— looks at the purple-haired guy weirdly, you couldn't blame him.

"get a fucking room"

finally, the current team playing made it to the finish line. all of you stood up, cheering the group that won. you turned to mi-na the same time she does and you both crash into a hug as if your own team had won. 

beside you, was se-mi staring at the both of you, jaw clenched and hands formed into fists. she sat back down as mi-na and you finally calm down, smiles still plastered onto your faces. the both of you sit back down and you tilt your head at mi-na, whose eyebrows are furrowed as her gaze was locked at something behind you. you follow her gaze, simply seeing a triangle masked guard. 

you look back to mi-na before you spoke, "what's wrong?" you see her blink as she snaps out of it, looking to you instead, "nothing. just felt like that guard behind us was staring."

you laugh, "you're overanalyzing everyone. what? gonna fight that guard too?" she rolls her eyes at you as she shakes her head, sighing. "whatever."

moments later, it was finally your team's turn. what mi-na said was right— you didn't mess up during playing gonggi. in fact, the each of you managed to play all the mini games smoothly and went back to the large room without any scratches.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

it was finally bedtime, after doing the votings. you and mi-na had voted for go home, while the other three in your group voted for the opposite. you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. many thoughts are racing inside your mind and you would literally kill just for them to give you a break.

suddenly, your mind wanders off, and a girl with the bold personality comes to mind. se-mi. just the thought of her makes you squirm. you had noticed the way she looked at you, the way she touched you everytime she had a chance to. 

heat rushed to your core. really? right now? you shift, removing the pillow supporting your head and placing it in between your legs instead. it's not enough, you thought. with a sigh, you hesitated before slipping yourself out of bed and drag your feet towards the door on the left side of the room.

you knock on the door softly, patiently waiting for the masked men to answer. seconds later, the hinged cover on the window swings open, revealing a triangle masked guard.

"restroom. please." you speak, before adding "my stomach really hurts." you see the guard pause for a while, before shutting the hinged cover and you sigh in defeat, preparing to walk back to bed. the door opens and you look up, the triangle masked guard standing on the side, making way for you.

"i need to go too." you flinch as you hear someone speak behind you. glancing to your back, your cheeks heat up as you see the girl you had just been fantasizing about earlier. se-mi glanced back, looking directly into your eyes. 

you snapped your head back, facing forward. with an awkward cough, you walk forward, se-mi following behind as the triangle masked guard guides you both towards the restroom.

the guard opens the door for the both of you as soon as you reach the restroom. se-mi walks past you, going inside first before you walked in next. 

the door shuts behind you just before you hear one of the bathroom stall's door slam shut. you just stand there for a moment, why was i here again? right. to get yourself off.

you felt disgust towards yourself as you made your way to the sink, turning on the faucet. you start to wash your hands as you think: but how the fuck am i supposed to do that when the woman you were thinking about is also inside this restroom and wouldn't that be so disgusting to think of someone like that an— your thoughts were cut off as you look back up to the mirror in front of you, startling as you see se-mi just meters away behind you. 

you turned the faucet off before you turned around, facing her. "you scared me." you said quietly, your chest rising up and down. she snickers before she spoke up, "scared you, huh? don't tell me you don't like me being in the same room as you, alone."

she clicks her tongue, "you think i haven't been noticing your little stares?" oh so she felt it too, the thing between us. "you're probably having dirty thoughts right now for all i know." her lips form into a smug smirk, making your knees feel like jelly.

your lips part and the restroom door suddenly swings open, making you both snap your heads to look. your eyes widen in fear as you see a triangle masked guard walk inside, locking the door behind. your head turns to look at se-mi, who didn't look as scared at all. what the fuck? you thought.

your heart started to hammer in your chest. you hear rustling as you look back to the guard. he— or she— started taking the mask off, revealing piercing eyes, before taking off the balaclava next. it revealed a woman. a rather hot woman, she had short black hair and a scar on her right cheek that was still reddish.

"s-semi..?" your voice came out shaky, as you reached for the girl beside you. you were so confused and scared, not knowing what this guard's deal was. she glanced at you, walking in front in a protective manner, before speaking to the woman you didn't know the intentions of. 

"why the hell are you here?" she bravely starts, "don't you guys have your own restrooms?" se-mi huffs at the woman. you admired se-mi for her courage to talk confidently but at the same time you're scared shitless for her. 

the woman sighs, "why the hell—? fuck—" she starts, before adding: "to join in on whatever the hell you two are doing."

"to join in on—? ah." se-mi pauses as if she read the woman's mind. "i see. you want her?" se-mi chucks her head sideways at you, as the woman glances at your confused state— eyebrows furrowed and eyes doe. you looked like a puppy, which made her want to ruin you even more. 

"wha-what?" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers. "what do you mean? what do you mean you want me? how?" you hear se-mi chuckle as the woman in front of you crosses her arms. want me? want to kill me?? or like, sex? hopefully sex. different thoughts raced to your mind. 

"don't act dumb now sweetheart. you know exactly what i mean by it." se-mi cooes at you mockingly. 

"well.. what do you say? are you up for it..?" the woman speaks up again with her raspy voice. you bit your lip, as they both stare at you in anticipation. fuck it.

you shyly nodded as you look down at your fingers. "words." your head snaps up to look at the woman once again before saying, "fine— yes.. i'm down." 

after hearing your confirmation, the woman starts to unzip her red jumpsuit, making your legs weak. se-mi walks closer to you, "take your jacket off, baby." she softly says. you comply, before se-mi speaks up once again "shouldn't have been so close to your 'bestfriend' in front of me" 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, dropping your jacket onto the floor. "oh. i guess we're both in here for the same reason, then." the woman speaks, your cheeks heat up as you saw her figure— she had the jumpsuit unzipped down to her waist, revealing a sports bra underneath.

se-mi snickers as she pushes your shoulder, making you fall down to your butt. "you saw that too?"

"was observing them from afar." oh.

"huh? bestfriend? you mean mi-na?" se-mi hums as she squats down to your level.

"but- but we're just friends?" you lock eyes with se-mi as the other woman walks just behind you.

"we're just friends," se-mi mocks you, "bullshit." 

the woman's also bent down to your level now and you can feel her hot breath against the back of your neck. "shirt, off." she whispers. 

you hesitantly grap the end of your shirt, you were shy to show them your body, it'll make you feel too exposed and pathetic.

the woman behind you clicks her tongue, before she takes your shirt off herself impatiently. "hesitant now? you weren't as hesitant earlier when you kept flirting with your friend." 

"won't be surprised at all if the both of you had sex before." semi continues, you were now left in your bra and tracksuit pants. "slut." 

your breath hitches as the woman behind you started kissing the side of your neck softly, while her gloved hands traveled to your covered breasts and started caressing them over the cloth. "no-eul. my name's no-eul." she whispers in between  leaving kisses on your neck.

you whimper, your hands going towards your pants to slide it down your legs. se-mi helps you and she throws it aside, exposing your soaked underwear. "you look so pretty like this. so wet for us." se-mi purrs as she presses the pads of her fingertips to your clothed cunt.

the woman— no-eul— unclasped your bra and you wiggle it off you as the cold air made your nipples hard. no-eul takes off her gloves and immediately brings them back to your boobs to grope them.

you let out a soft moan, head tipping back to kiss no-eul. she complies, taking your soft lips onto her chapped ones. the both of you make out as se-mi kept herself busy sliding down your underwear. you lifted your hips up slightly to make it easier for her, and once they were finally off, she spreads your legs as her breath hitches.

you pull away from the kiss and rest your head on no-euls shoulder while she continued to touch your chest. semi leans down and starts to leave kisses on your thighs, sometimes sucking them. 

your head shoots up to look at se-mi. "se-mi please" you plead, "please what?" she murmurs against your inner thigh. 

"please, eat me out. please."

"yeah? is that the same way you beg mi-na?" she taunts, "no, no— we don't fuck i swear! we're just friends." you cry out, your hips bucking up, desperate for any contact. 

you tilt your head back to no-eul's shoulder once again, pouting and whining, "no-eul.." the woman chuckled at you and shook her head, "you have to beg, baby." 

you look at se-mi as your lower lips tremble. you didn't even care at this point on, "please se-mi, i— i promise we're both just friends. really- i— i swear she's straight. just please, i need you." 

"give the poor girl what she wants, don't be so mean." you were grateful that no-eul spoke up, as it finally led to se-mi giving in. 

your back arches as your head falls down to no-eul's left shoulder. se-mi latched her lips onto your aching clit, swirling it with her tongue. soft gasps escape your mouth—that's very close to no-eul's ear— making her hear everything loud and clear.

"mnnnh— so good.." no-eul herself was getting wetter and wetter at your noises: soft moans and the lewd sound your wet cunt is making while se-mi hungrily makes out with it.

"fuck, baby.." you swear you just heard a low moan from no-eul, but maybe you're just tripping, considering your mind is spinning around right now out of pleasure. 

you reach for no-eul's hand, bringing it to your mouth before you started to suck on her ring and middle finger. "shit," no-eul mutters, her fingers softly thrusting in and out your mouth, "don't do this to me."

se-mi hums against your cunt, her tongue teasing your entrance before she pushes it in. many things are happening too fast right now, you could feel your orgasm growing. 

no-eul pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. she leans down to kiss you, making your moans muffled. your hand travels towards se-mi's hair as you push her head deeper. you couldn't think of anything that's better than this: no-eul's tongue exploring your mouth while se-mi's explores your cunt. 

"i'm going— to cum—" you say in between kisses, loud enough for se-mi to hear. you should be thankful for se-mi being nice, because she speeds up, eager to make you cum and taste you. 

and then it happens. everything waist down tightens as you release, your orgasm ripping through you. a loud moan escapes your mouth and onto no-eul's who pulled away and watched your pleasured face. se-mi laps your juices up before you feel no-eul remove herself from behind you. 

se-mi stands up and no-eul whispers something to her, nodding before she pulls her pants and underwear down and tosses them somewhere else. you lick your lips at the sight before no-eul spoke up

"on your hands and knees." holy fucking shit— se-mi places herself down as you turn around, your legs slightly wobbling while you try to support yourself using your hands. your face was met with se-mi's dripping core before she speaks "well?" 

"i- i don't know how to... um," you shyly say, not feeling confident to make someone cum.

"it'll be fine, just trust your instincts." trusting her, you lean down to close the space between you and se-mi's cunt, giving her light kitten licks. "fuck— more." she forces out. you started making '8' patterns against her clit as she lets out a breathy moan. 

your eyes widen as you moan out loudly from no-eul slamming two of her fingers inside you without any warning. "fuck—! mngggh!" se-mi didn't let you adjust as she forcefully pushes your head down to her core, making your moans muffled against her, sending vibrations to her whole body. 

tears started to well up in your eyes as no-eul's fingers pound into you. no-eul grunts behind you as her fingers works wonders inside of you, hitting the right spots, "you're so fucking tight." 

se-mi lets out a scoff, "surprising, thought you were a whore." you moan against her core, if it was possible— you grew wetter at her words. 

you start to think that you're doing a good job because of how se-mi lets out small moans. you flutter your eyes open and traveled your eyes to look at her expression, you were surprised to see her already looking at you, eyes half-lidded with lips parted and sweat dripping down her forehead as you kept making out with her cunt. 

your arch your back as you felt no-eul curl her fingers inside you. you felt another orgasm building up, this time faster due to being the second one. 

"dirty girl, letting a guard fuck you senseless like this when you should be scared of me." you hear no-euls raspy voice— shit, her voice alone is turning you on so bad, making you feel butterflies inside your stomach. 

"think you can handle one more finger baby?" no-eul cooes, as you hum against se-mi, tasting something salty— did she just cum? holy fuck did i make her cum? 

se-mi tugs your hair up and shifts herself closer to you before crashing her lips onto yours. you could differentiate the way no-eul and se-mi kiss you: no-eul kissed you soft and slow while se-mi kissed you hungrily and rough. you moan into her mouth as no-eul pushes a third finger inside you, making you closer to releasing. 

"you're taking it so well, so good."  

you pull away from the kiss and se-mi immediately latches her lips on your neck, sucking on it. 

"i'm gonna cum- i'm gonna cum," you moan out as no-eul's fingers work faster. 

your eyes roll back as your second orgasm hits you, feeling an overwhelming bliss throughout your whole body. no-eul doesn't stop but she slows down her thrusts as she lets you ride your high. soon enough, you've calmed down and the woman behind you pulls her fingers out of you, making a squelching noise.

your knees shake before they gave out, if it weren't for se-mi catching you you would've fell to the floor face first. 

"clean her up. i need to go back outside." no-eul speaks up. you can hear the faucet running so you assumed she was washing her hands. you can feel se-mi nod against you, before you turned around to look at no-eul who was zipping up her jumpsuit and tidying herself up before walking towards the door. 

she's leaving already? the thought made you sulk.

se-mi leans you against the wall as she starts to dress herself up as well. no-eul pauses, her shoulders going up and down as if she let out a sigh before you see her turn around and walk back towards you.

you just stare straight forward dumbfoundedly, before feeling a cold hand tilt your chin up as no-eul leans down to give you once last kiss. 

"i trust you to not tell a soul about this." 

her voice was gentle but firm, and it made you not want to even think about telling anyone about this— it wasn't like you're planning to anyways. no-eul walks towards the door and pauses as she sees se-mi come back with a tissue roll on hand, she gives her a nod before unlocking the restroom door; she opened it slightly at first, checking for anyone outside, and walking outside when she confirmed it was clear.

se-mi picks your underwear and pants up from the floor and shakes it off, you stand up as she hands you the toilet paper and you use that to clean your slick off. she hands you your clothes after and you wear them, disposing the used tissue paper and then washing your hands after. 

you glanced at where you dropped your jacket, frowning when you didn't see it there. se-mi clears her throat behind you, you turn off the faucet and turn around before she hands you your jacket. 

you both stare each other awkwardly. you bit your lower lip as her lips form into a smirk, "have you learned your lesson?"

you nod slowly and then you see her raise her eyebrows at you. "next time you pull the same shit, i won't be so nice." she leans in to kiss you; you reciprocate. "but it's too bad we don't have too much time using the restroom." se-mi says in between kisses as she cups your jaw

"or maybe should i just fuck you out there for everyone to see, hm?"

she smiles against your lips, "even had a fucking guard swoon over you." she murmurs. you pull away from the kiss before clearing your throat, you aren't really sure what to say right now. "cmon." se-mi intertwines her fingers with yours as she leads you towards the restroom exit, opening it before stepping outside with you following.

no-eul— well, a masked guard, but you think it's her, was standing outside patiently, nodding and leading the way back to the large room after seeing the both of you.

your mind wanders off as you walk— oh my god. i just fucked two women and one of them's a fucking guard. a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you rethink your life choices;

what the hell am i doing with my life

                         ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

"why are you walking so weirdly? hey— walk straight for the love of god!" mi-na exclaims as she catches you from falling down, the two of you were walking towards the line of players to get your breakfast.

"the fuck does that have to do with you not walking straight?" she scoffs, "it's like you got fucked so hard you can't walk." she murmurs as your eyes widen before you nudged her.

your cheeks heat up as you remembered the things that happened last night in the bathroom. you shake your head, "it's nothing. my head just hurts."

"mi-na!"

you didn't deny it though. if only she knew, if only.

@misayani

[titaswrld]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, cara mia. on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi I love rereading all your fics and prompts! Like, multiple times throughout the day. I have a schedule. Your works are my literal bed time stories (wow that sounded weird).

Anyways (before I ramble any worse). Any updates for Child support? I just love it so much and wondering if there's more

John throws himself to the side, barely avoiding a grab from a fifth-dimension demon throwing a fit after he rejects its request to marry his son. He rolls across the ground, powering up a spell, as he mentally curses his age.

Maybe Batman was right. He should work on his physical form a little more.

"Wait! Wait! I'm sorry! Can we talk about this-" Whatever the demon was going to say is lost after John's spell slams into its chest, throwing it back out of his dimension and sealing him from his Earth for fifty years. The spell is helpful, but fifty years doesn't mean much to demons, and it will wait decades to come back and bother them.

Thankfully, John will likely be long-dead before then. It's always been his solution for most of his problems. Pushing a problem to a later date where it can become someone else's problem.

But what about his son?

Danny, who was half of Time itself, would likely be around in fifty years. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to leave Danny with all his messes. He'll have to learn a new banishing spell and find some instructors who could teach him an entirely new magic dueling technique.

It was the responsible thing to do. Ugh, fatherhood was making him an accountable bore.

John heaves himself off the floor, sweat pouring from his forehead, and grimaces. On the stove, the eggs he was cooking for Danny's breakfast are smoking, burnt into a dark black smudge. The House of Mystery's old wood groans, displeased with all the smoke, and a second later, the stove and counter vanish as the house creates a hole to drop them out of.

"Now that's just plain rude," John tells the house, dusting his knees. "It's not like I asked to be attacked first thing in the morning. What am I going to feed Danny now?"

The house's floor tiles shift in what John has come to learn was meant to be a shrug. The blasted thing has started copying Danny's teenage behavior, including that of his son's friends, and now seemed to enjoy rebelling against John whenever possible.

Thankfully, the house also seemed to really like Danny because one of the drawers opens, and a local Gotham breakfast dinner menu is flung at him. John catches the sheet with a sigh. He won't have to go too far when dropping Danny off at school.

"Morning, Dad," Danny greets, walking into the room wearing his Gotham Academy uniform. The dark night blue blazer, black tie, and dress trousers make his son look like the heir of the second most powerful being. It only took one glance to see that Danny came from nobility.

John knows he's a handsome bloke, but he had nothing on Clockwork's human form. That man was a temptation itself, and it looks like Danny has inherited his beauty.

John will never know how the brats in Danny's other schools could not see that. His son was perfect. John fights the urge to summon a camera. He always thought the fools always showing off the children's pictures were idiotic. Now that he's a father, he understands.

He smiles, "Morning, love. How about we go out to eat for breakfast?"

__________________________________________________________

They arrived at the dinner just as it was opening. John told Danny to order some black tea and went to the bathroom. He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he returned, he found his boy surrounded by a group of teenagers wearing the same uniform.

There was a splash of angry red on Danny's face as a girl gestured to him, obviously mocking him, and the rest of the teenagers laughed. Danny's hands were clenched in his lap, shoulders hunched, and head lowered as another teenager reached out and flickered his ear.

This one was wearing those ridiculous American leather jackets for some sport. He was also the biggest teenager there, a boy who thought himself too important for his own good.

John's jaw clenched.

Bullies.

Danny had bullies at Gotham Academy. Why can't his son just be left alone?!

John was just about to march across the room, ready and willing to fight a group of children, when Danny suddenly raised his head to yell in the face of the leather jacket git.

Alarmingly, the teenagers don't have the reaction that John expects. The large boy blushes, and the teenagers all seem to grow flustered.

No, John realizes with horror. No, they fancy him. The little rats bothering Danny are into him. Were all the other bullies just dumb kids who were terrible at flirting, too?

He is so stunned by the realization that he misses the way Danny attempts to push past the boy and somehow ends up tripping over his own two feet. He tries to catch himself on the table but the thing tilts over and their drinks fly.

Danny ends up half on the ground covered in drinks and looking bloody misaberle as the rest of the children snicker. John draws to his full height, deciding that it didn't matter what these kids felt for Danny.

His son thought they were bullying him because they made him feel terrible. So they were all going to feel the wrath of the one human who bullshits his way to being one of the mightiest spell casters in history.

"What the bloody hell are you urchins think you're doing!?" He yells. The kids all take one look at him before they scatter, rushing towards their posh cars outside.

"You alright, love?" He helps the boy to his feet, wiping some liquid with a napkin.

Danny looks small as he wipes away at his eyes. There weren't any tears; he was just taking the tea that had run down his face off. "I'm okay. Thanks, Dad."

"Do they bother you a lot?" He asks, anger growing in his chest. "We can go to your headmaster."

"No! Telling the principle will only make things worse!" Danny shouts, looking up in alarm. "Besides, they don't really bother me that much. Damian can usually scare them off. They should go for me, I can handle it; most other kids don't."

Fuck, where has he heard that phrase before?

It's alright if he hits me. I can handle it better than Mum.

John takes a breath through his nose, willing it to calm him down. This is another change that has come to be ever since he learned about Danny. Before, John would have gone off the handle, started a fight, yelled till he was red, drank, or slept through his issues, and damn the consequences.

He's got to think with a clearer head now. He owes Danny because of what his other father will do and because John wants to be the kind of father he never had.

The waitress rushes over, helping them get things set to right, and Danny apologizes for repeatedly knocking on the table. She waves away his worry, stating she saw the group and that, as someone who's worked near Gotham Acadamy for years, she knows what kind of students go there.

She also mentioned seeing what happened to the scholarship students over the years after nodding her head to Danny's pin. John hated that it was a requirement for Danny's uniform as a "show" of his accomplishments when all it did was single him out as a target.

While his son is distracted, John sends a quick text message to Bruce, informing him of the bullying Danny is going through.

Bruce responds with a single message: "It shall be handled." for once, he doesn't roll his eyes at the theatrics. A small thump on the window makes him glance up from his phone screen.

Pressed up against the glass is a blond teenage boy with wide eyes, breathing heavily and looking like a child staring at a feast of their favorite foods. John makes a face as the teenager's palms' and nose lean more into the glass, disorientating his image, but nothing could top the manic grin on his face.

John follows the boy's eyesight to where they practically devour his son, who is busy looking at the pasty bar. The waitress told him to pick anything he liked in the house to try and cheer him up from his bully.

Danny takes his sweets very seriously and studies his options with hyper-focused determination. He bends at his waist to look at the far-back brownies, and the teenager in the window lets out a cat-like growl of approval.

Alarmed, John steps in front of Danny, blocking him and his bum from view. The teenager, wearing the same uniform as Danny, and John was pretty sure he's seen this kid at Gotham High School when they had been touring the place before deciding to take Burce's offer, locks eyes with him.

John doesn't have to see into the stranger's scowl to confirm what he already knows.

That was not a human in control of the body. A demon likely took the unfortunate human for a joy ride. John raises his hand, spell crackling at his fingertips, and the scowl turns darker as the demon wearing the stolen face seers.

Just as he is about to fire off a spell, Danny's voice cuts through the tension, stepping around John with a happy "Bernard!"

His son walks up to the window before freezing and then looks back at John with the same bone-chilling expression of anger that he has only ever seen on one other being. That one being who could make the very fabrics of the universe fall apart despite not shouting or rampaging.

Danny inherited Clockwork's anger, it seemed.

"That thing is overshadowing my friend Bernard Dowd." Danny's voice is low and echoing. Somewhere behind him, John can hear the waitress gasp for air as the room's pressure increases, to Danny's displeasure. "I'm going to kill it."

John's knees shake as he fights to stay upright. "Alright. Make sure you finish murdering it before your second class. You have a chemistry test today."

Danny nods, walks outside, and grabs Bernard's arm to drag him into a dark alley. The dumb thing looked pleased, spraying something into its mouth. I thought Danny was going to snog it.

Fool.

As soon as Danny left, the pressure disappeared from the dinner, every human inside sighing relief once they could breathe better.

"What in the world was that!?" The waitress demands, her voice strained with fear.

John turns to her with a shrug. "Puberty."

Outside, a loud honk is heard as a certain teenager in a leather jacket slams his head against his steering wheel with a wail. His friends are quick to comfort him to the best of their abilities. They likely saw Danny drag the possessed human into the alleyway.

Good.

"Do you have any alcoholic drinks?" He asks the horror-stricken woman. "I need something strong."

"It's seven in the morning."

"Ah, a coffee then. Black. Strong. Anything to help me raise my boy and get through the day."

There is a long pause before she responds. "Of course, and it's on the house. Not easy being a single parent to....whatever that was."

At least she has a heart.

[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.”

[buckyalpine]

18+

Dom Bucky who turns into a needy mess when he’s alone, watching your sex tape.

That’s it. That’s the warning.

He’s so dominant when he’s throwing you around like a ragdoll, phone propped up to get every angle possible. He’s gritting his teeth as he pounds from behind, gripping you hair in one hand and spanking you with the other. He grabs your hips so he can slam them back to meet his thrusts and the whole thing is so debauched with the way you wail uncontrollably.

You’re such a good bunny in bed and he loves what a good girl you, all just for him. You don’t know that he’s secretly even more subby than you when he has his fat cock in his fist.

When he’s alone in his room, he’s a whiny, whimpering mess. He slips his hand down his sweats to calm down his erection but it’s no use, he pulls his cock out instead. All he can think of is your soft body wrapped around his. He grabs his phone to watch your pretty face and he can’t help the breathy moan that escapes his lips when he sees your eyes roll back.

“So pretty bunny” he whines, throwing his sweats off so he can spread his legs wide and cup his balls. “Mmph, such a tight pussy”

He rolls his balls in his palm while panting, replaying the part where your face is between his legs, choking on his dick.

“Sucking so good, lookit that, oh god-“ his breath hitches at the sound of you gagging, thick drops of precum leaking out of the head, “oh fuck, you get me wet bunny”

The man fucking your ever loving brains out isn’t the same man currently jerking his cock off like a desperate little boy. No, the man in the video is in fully control, fucking his princess like she’s nothing more than a fucktoy, grunting and praising her for taking all of him.

But the man who can’t slow his fist down? The one who is squeezing the base of his cock tightly to keep from cumming? He is very different. He’s almost in tears watching his girl take all his dick in every position imaginable. He’s toying with the head of his cock, nimble fingers tracing and caressing his slit with breathy moans, wondering how he got so lucky to get a pretty bunny.

“Makin’ my cock so hard bunny, shit-taking daddy’s cock so good, huh? That’s it- gonna make a mess, God, s’fuckin’ pretty”

At some point he grabs his pillow and shoves it between his legs, humping it like a puppy with his lip caught between his teeth. He’d never be caught dead like this, so subby and needy, rutting his cock against his pillow but he can’t help it. Not when he doesn’t want to bust but toy make it so difficult.

“Lookit what you do to me baby, got me- mmph-humping the bed like a little boy, make it stop mommy”

He groans as soon as the word leaves his mouth, it was so wrong but felt so right. You were making him feel all those things, so soft and sweet and-

“Be my mommy bunny, gonna cum- gonna cum for you- fuck- FUCKK MO- UGH”

He throws his head back and tosses the pillow aside, furious jerking his cock till he blows his load all over his naked chest. He doesn’t stop until his very pink cock has nothing left to give.

It sits soft in his hand, more sensitive than ever and he can’t help but whine, giving it an experimental squeeze, thinking of the way you’d suckle him to make sure there way no cum left.

“Clean me up mommy” he says with a breathy whisper, continuing to play with his spent cock till he shivers and shudders at the feeling. “Need mommy”

He isn’t ready for you to see that side of him yet but-

K bye again.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[yup-thats-me]

confession • Takakura. K

pairing; Takakura Ken x fem!reader

summary; it took y/n a bit too long to understand she's caught feelings for that idiot!

warnings; none. minor spoiler from ep 8

Were lunch breaks always this boring? That, Y/n couldn't tell. After all, she had spent lunches for the last few weeks with Okarun on the school terrace talking about who knows what.

She wouldn't even be here sulking with her friends in the classroom, she could have been at her favorite place with Okarun if no that idiot had lied straight to her face.

"I'll be working on a report," he said. And maybe she would have believed him if not for the answer he gave when Y/n asked to hang out later after school: "I have stuff to do."

"Ugh. I'm gonna buy some drinks," she exclaimed getting up. "Orange juice for me!" her friends ordered.

What was Okarun doing now? Reading occult magazines? but he could have done the same while eating his lunch with Y/n. Working on a report? maybe but the girl had her doubts. The last months or so they've spent together looking for Okarun's balls, the dude never even uttered a word about assignments. what came over him now?

As Y/n strolled around lazily with her friend's drinks in hand, she stopped dead in her tracks. There was Okarun, doing what seemed to be push-ups, the only thing extraordinary being that Aira Shiratori was under him. Y/n even noticed her eyes were closed.

Y/n's heart began thumping loudly against her chest. What were they doing? Kissing. It couldn't be right? Please! Knowing Okarun, he had never even held a girl's hand in his entire existence. A kiss would be the stretch of the century!

Y/n really wanted to see where the two were going with this, but the drinks she was carrying fell with a thud loud enough to make Okarun startle and look around.

Y/n swore their eyes met. She turned at the speed of light, running away from the two.

"Y/n! Wait, its a misunderstanding!" came the pleading voice of Okarun. But Y/n couldn't hear him over the loud thumps her heart was making, nor could she see with tears covering her vision.

Tears? Why were there tears? She couldn't possibly cry just because the idiot she fell in love with was just seconds away from crashing his lips against the girl who calls her a demon?

Suddenly, Y/n was stopped in her tracks. Okarun was holding on to her sleeve, his other hand carrying the drinks she had dropped. His eyes were pleading.

"I've had enough!" Y/n snapped, snatching her arms from him. "'I have a report to work on,' yeah, right! The report was on the anatomy of female lips, right?"

Y/n could no longer hold back her tears. They streamed down her face endlessly, her eyes red. Okarun had tried to wipe them away even if he was confused as to why the girl was crying, but Y/n backed away.

"You should get back to your bae, she'd be waiting for her kiss," she remarked turning away.

The poor drinks were dropped yet again. Okarun grabbed her wrist, making her face him by force.

"I'm in love with you, so would you please stop with the remarks?"

His voice held a hidden pain. His hands were trembling. He still had not processed what he just blurted out. When it did, he let go of her wrist, backing away a few steps. "Sorry."

The guy was looking down, his mind on overdrive. Did he just confess to Y/n as a request? That was so lame! Of course she would reject him. There's surely no questioning that!

But unexpectedly, Y/n made him look up. His eyes still had not focused on the girl standing before him before he heard a crisp "smack" and the pain stinging in his ear.

Y/n had slapped him. Not that hard that it would hurt, but it still came as a shock. Before he could recover, however, he felt Y/n pulling him by the neck.

In an instant, their lips were clashing agsint the other's clumsily, both amateurs. Just as Okarun was about to register what was happening and maybe even wrap his hands around Y/n, Y/n pulled away.

"I love you too!"

She burst out. "I could tell," Okarun mumbled. When he came to, he looked as shocked as Y/n. Then with the greatest look of betrayal in his eyes, and a hand over his stinging cheek, he asked with faux fury, "What was the slap for then?"

"You deserved it," Y/n smiled, poking out her tongue. "You're officially my boyfriend now," She smirked pulling him by his tie.

"I guess we wouldn't get our drinks today?"

it was her friends who were watching the whole scene play out from their hideout, watching giddily as their friend finally made her move. Took Y/n long enough.

[metalomagnetic]

Hello Metalo- after being tortured by Mal, I am in desperate need of some crack, so! In similar vein to canon Voldemort meeting all of his lovers, canon Sirius meets his:

- Bella from EMD, Bella 2.0 from Ouro

- Voldemort (from It runs and Mal)

- Astrid

- Andromeda and Lucius from Family

- James from Inevitable

- Greyback from The thrill of the chase

- Severus from Turmoil

What happens?

My guess on what he’d do depends on his age- the only certainty is that he’d bully Snape into a pulp. And that Mal V and It runs V would be duelling in the corner.

Sirius cannot accept there is a universe out there where he fucked Snape; he just refuses to believe it. It's impossible.

"I mean, it seems like you fucked Voldemort in another one, so-" James says.

Apparently Sirius fucked James, too, in yet another world. That, he doesn't doubt. He's happy; from all this insanity, since these people came here, since the skin crawling realisation he fucked Snape, the only joy he has is seeing James again. It's not his James, but it's a version of him, and Sirius hadn't left his side all night.

Now his eyes leave James, to look at Voldemort, sitting in a corner with Bella. "I can see it," Sirius says, with a wince, taking Voldemort in, his tall frame, his imposing stance, power crackling around him. "I'm sorry, but I can see that happening before Snape."

James snorts. "And look, you fucked two of your cousins. You dog!"

"It's not me!" Sirius protests. "I'd never-"

"Oh, shut up," James teases. "Even in my universe you had a thing with Bella. You never explained, but I know it happened."

Sirius takes another sip of his drink. "Andromeda at least said it's a marriage of convenience-"

"Yeah, so you could be with Malfoy-"

"Ugh." Sirius hides his face in his hands. "I truly am a dog."

"He does have pretty hair," James allows, with a smile, but he turns grim fast. "I'd rather that universe for you. You were happy, at least. I rather all other universes than the one you got-"

"No, don't say that! There's one where you were never born, where Voldemort won, and-"

"I'd take that for you," James insists. "You don't deserve this world. And they certainly don't deserve you, the fucking wankers, I can't even think of Remus abandoning you in Azkaban! He did that in my world, too, you know? You forgave him, but I never did."

Sirius breathes out, takes another sip of whiskey. "He's- I don't care anymore. I only care about Harry. Nothing else matters to me."

James hugs him, fiercely, and Sirius hugs back, basks in the opportunity to hold James, any version of James, one last time.

"You're like that in my world; you love us fiercely, and Harry adores you. You're his favourite dad, you know? Whenever he has a problem at school, he tells you about it; if he has a nightmare, he calls for you."

Sirius' heart swells, hearing it. Gods, what a lucky bastard that version of him is! He got to raise Harry, and he got James.

A young woman sits beside them at the table. "May I?" she asks, after she already sat down.

Both he and James nod. She's beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous. James kept looking at her through the night. Sirius checked her out a few times, too. Apparently, she's his wife, in the same universe he fucked Voldemort.

"I'm sorry to intrude," she says. "It's just that I cannot stand any of these people, besides Lucius. But this Lucius is...different. He left me alone to hide from the dark lord." Her nose twitches with distaste. Fuck, but she's adorable.

"Tell me about Sirius' kids!" James asks her. "I wanna hear all about them!"

Another Orion; apparently Sirius named all his sons, in all the universes, Orion. Something clenches in his chest, painfully. This particular one sounds like a handful, as the girl- Astrid- describes him.

I bet he isn't even close to how difficult the Orions born from Andromeda or Bella are. Those must be nightmares.

"No!" Sirius protests when he hears about Marvolo. "It's impossible I raised a snitch!"

Astrid smiles, a beautiful, mesmerising sight. James can't look away. Sirius elbows him in the ribs. "He's not a snitch! He is simply...fond of rules."

The third one, Helix, bites people. "That sounds like Sirius's son," James jokes.

"And, of course, there's Harry. He's a little angel, he never gives us any trouble, though you- my Sirius spoils him something awful."

James's hand tightens on Sirius' thigh, when he hears Astrid describe Harry as Sirius' son.

"Thank you," he whispers in Sirius' ear.

"Don't thank me," Sirius says. "Apparently I fucked your killer in that universe." He turns to Astrid. "Gods, you should leave me- I mean, the other me. He's clearly missing some marbles."

"You are a perfect husband, though," she frowns, clearly bothered. "I wasn't aware about the dark lord situation."

Sirius looks in Voldemort's direction again, meets those quite frankly mesmerising eyes, and quickly looks away.

I wonder who fucks who. He shakes his head to dispel the curiosity. Best not think about it too much.

"Maybe he has me under the Imperius," he mutters.

"Snivellus certainly gave you a love potion," James says, glaring daggers at Snape, sulking in a corner.

"Yeah!" Sirius is happy to take this explanation. "Definitely. That's what must have happened!"

"When I go back to my world, I'll tell my Sirius about it and we'll go bully Snape into an early grave," James promises, and Sirius is jealous, so jealous of that Sirius.

"Yeah, I'll bully mine, when he comes to Grimmauld," he mutters, but truth is, he is made to feel so useless, locked up, not allowed to help, that it's hard to bully anyone, isn't it?

"I cannot believe you allow all these blood traitors and mudbloods into your ancestral home," Astrid says. "These Order people."

James meets Sirius' eyes, and he knows they're thinking the same thing. Oh, that's what's wrong with her. She was too perfect, otherwise.

"How do I put out with this nonsense from you?" Sirius asks her, bluntly.

She shrugs. "You ignore it."

(-)

Andromeda and Lucius are the calmest of the lot, the most reasonable, really. Sirius can see himself having a marriage of convenience with Andromeda. She's always been practical, and the easier to get along from the sisters.

And Lucius....well, James is right. He has pretty hair. And apparently he renounced Voldemort in that universe.

Apparently, Cissa saved Harry's life. Good for her. Sirius hopes maybe...maybe Cissa from this universe will one day do the same.

He remembers she became a dragon whenever someone mistreated her porcelain dolls. He cannot imagine she's taking kindly to her son being inconvenienced by Voldemort.

Once again, his eyes stray to that corner. Once more, he meets that red gaze.

What the fuck happened there? Sirius is curious. Must be the Imperius, right?

Surely.

Speaking of questionable choices...

"You should have stayed with me," Greyback tells him, later, when Sirius makes his way to him. The wolf is playing with a knife, twisting the blade expertly. "It would have been a kinder fate than what you got."

Sirius opens his mouth to tell him he's not a traitor, that he would never fuck or stay with the man that ruined Remus' life, but...how can he say that, when apparently in another universe he fucked the man that killed James?

Greyback is a shit wizard, he can't be using Legilmancy, so it's just a weird coincidence that he says, " the dark lord, really? In my world, you'd cut your cock off before allowing him near you."

"I must have been coerced," Sirius mumbles. "And you probably caught me in a bad moment-"

Greyback laughs. "Oh, I caught you in many bad moments, little brat. And you enjoyed it every time."

Disgusting. Sirius moves away.

For some reason, even though Snape is the worst, he still finds himself walking towards him, even if he meant to head for Bella. Somehow, his mind apparently wants to avoid her more than Snape.

Snape won't look at him, arms crossed.

"You slipped me a potion, didn't you?" Sirius asks, hopeful.

Snape snorts. He raises his chin, defiant, but still won't look at Sirius.

He looks....better than actual Snape. He looks....washed, and dressed properly. With horror, Sirius realises that what Snape is wearing is what Sirius would enjoy seeing on a wizard-

"Oh, fuck," he mutters. The other me is dressing Snape!

Gods, how does that Sirius live with himself? Unbearable.

How does Snape live with himself? "Do you have a humiliation kink, or what the fuck is wrong with you?" Sirius hisses. I almost fed you to a werewolf, he wants to add, but Snape blushes, fiercely, and Sirius steps back, horrified.

Alright, best not to bully Snape, then. At least not this Snape.

Shit, what if my Snape shares this....misfortune?

No. He can't think about that.

(-)

For a few minutes, he sits with Bella in silence. He just can't think of what to say.

It's too painful. It's impossible that he'd-

And then she draws him into a hug, and- oh.

He hugs back.

"How is mum?" Sirius asks, in her hair. "And Regulus?"

"Good," she says. "Everyone is doing great. Our children are perfect. We have the perfect life, my lord made sure of it."

He doesn't want to fight with her. He fought with her enough. And it's useless, anyway. Sirius is apparently a fucking whore, in all these universes, trading lovers, shifting morals, but Bella- Bella is constant. In all the universes, she remains loyal to Voldemort. Her convictions never waver.

"Children? Plural? I heard you talking about an Orion-"

"We have five," Bella says, drawing back, with a smile.

"Five? What the fuck?!"

"The last two are twins. A surprise, later in life. I only kept them because one of them was the girl we both wanted."

Sirius blinks. "What's her name, then?"

She laughs. "We fought for nine months about it," she says. "I wanted-"

"Delphini," Sirius says, remembering, from his youth, as the girls talked about children, future marriages. Bella always said she'll have a daughter and name her Delphini.

Her eyes soften. She cups his cheek. "Yes," she whispers. "You wanted Walburga."

"Fuck out of here!"

"You were adamant. So her name is Delphini Walburga."

"That poor girl!" Sirius says, incensed on behalf of this child.

He spends a lot of time with Bella, more than he imagined he'd want. But he's mesmerised with her stories of home. Of a different home. A home Sirius apparently never left.

Would I have truly stayed in Grimmauld if there was no James in my life? Would life had been as easy? Or would Sirius feel something missing, even if he would never learned what?

(-)

There's no avoiding him any longer. He's the last one. Besides, he's the one that figured out how to get everyone back to their universes, and he needs Sirius' blood for a ritual to open a portal.

"Come." He leads Sirius to a different room, and Sirius has to follow him, though James looks after them, anxiously.

They enter a room, and there's a dead body on the floor-

"What the-" Sirius' mouth snaps shut when he sees who it is, there on the floor.

It's...Voldemort.

"Don't mind him," Voldemort says, kicking the body. "He had it coming."

Sirius stares between them. "There's two of you?!"

"Were," Voldemort corrects, his eyes staring into Sirius' soul.

"Wait, I fu- I had a thing with you in two worlds?" Now that is horrifying. Once is a mistake, but twice? There are two Sirius running around fucking two Voldemort?

Well, I suppose there's only one, now.

"No." Voldemort's eyes flash with furry when he looks down at the body. "You didn't have anything with this one. You didn't have a choice."

Oh.

Sirius blinks, relieved. Alright, so at least one version of him is sane. But the fact that this Voldemort apparently would kill himself for forcing Sirius-

That means, in Voldemort's world, he is not, in fact, holding Sirius under the Imperius.

The curiosity increases, tenfold. He likes me, it strikes Sirius. He likes me enough to kill for me.

How....awkward. "Congratulations," he blurts out. "On winning, I mean. You're not easy to take down."

Ah....there it is.

Voldemort smiles, and Sirius thinks he understands what the other Sirius sees in him.

The smiles transforms his face, makes it human. Handsome, even.

He has a dimple, for fuck sake.

No wonder Bella ends up fucking him in so many worlds, if he has that dimple.

"I admit, I had an ally," Voldemort says. "Bella, of course."

Of course? What? "No version of Bella would turn against any version of you!" Sirius insists.

No, it's not possible. Because if it's possible, then he'll spend the rest of his life wishing his Bella would do the same, and that only leads to heartbreak.

"This was an aberration," Voldemort says, gesturing at the body. "He shouldn't have been allowed to exist at all."

"You- I mean, you in this world- you're not that great, either."

"I gathered." Voldemort's jaw twitches.

"You looked like this," Sirius says. "In the first war. But now Harry says you look like a nightmare."

"I believe that's the least of his issues, here," Voldemort says, after some seconds.

"Can't argue with that." He bites his cheek. "Though, admittedly, I don't really know you. We haven't properly met."

"A tragedy," Voldemort says, and -

It throws Sirius off, how honest he sounds.

"I must be very impressive in your world," Sirius mutters.

To attract Voldemort's....attention like this, Sirius must be some amazing version of himself.

"You are."

Sirius has no idea what to say to that, what to do with the way Voldemort looks at him.

It's not with Greyback's predatory hunger, it's not with James' joyful eyes, not with Andromeda's care, or Lucius' desire.

No, it's....Sirius can't place it. Never has anyone looked at him quite like that.

Tender, almost, but not quite. Or, not only.

"Impressive like Bella? You're with her, here. At least that's the rumour."

Voldemort smiles again. "That is the rumour in my world, as well. And I can confidently say it is false."

A few seconds of silence pass between them. Voldemort keeps staring.

Sirius stares back.

"Your hand," Voldemort finally says. "I need your blood to complete the ritual."

"You can have the blood, you don't need the hand," Sirius snaps. The other version of him....gods know what is going on there, but Sirius can't make himself touch the man that murdered James, in any universe, no matter how curious he is.

That makes Voldemort smile wider. "Impertinent, as always," he comments, but it's' with fondness.

Sirius cuts his hand, collects the blood in a vial he conjures.

"You should remember this is who you are," Voldemort says, as he takes the vial. "Arrogant, proud, brave. You shouldn't allow the Order to treat you this way. Not after all you sacrificed for them."

It makes Sirius ill, physically ill, that Voldemort, out of all people, says this.

That everyone else in his world treats him like a reckless child, a burden that needs to be locked away, that they don't trust him to help, never recognise what he's been through, and here Voldemort is-

He shakes his head, pushes his anger down. "I don't care what they say. I am singularly focused on my goal, and they happen to be on the same side I am." Sirius only cares about Harry. And the Order does, as well. For that, Sirius is grateful. Harry needs all the people he can get in his corner.

"Why do you love that child so?" Voldemort asks. "I don't understand it. I need to understand it."

"He's all I have left of James," Sirius says. "He's all I have left."

Voldemort opens his mouth, but closes it again. He turns, and pours the vial on the runes he drew on the floor.

"Do you enjoy watching the stars, Sirius?"

It bothers him, the way Voldemort speaks his name, with such familiarity.

It bothers him Voldemort knows this about him.

Does that other Sirius also like to climb on the roof and stare at the stars?

"Yes."

Voldemort nods. "Next you do that, think there are many worlds, out there, where you have more than Harry Potter."

[fhrlclln]

hi, same person from the forbidden obsession qimir ask, i forgot to mention that i feel like age gap would also go good with that,(legal ofc!) like he is just so down bad for her and she is just always so sweet to him and is only devoted to him.

and when osha comes into the picture, like they’re in the cave talking scene, reader just walks in mid conversation and is just like “master, you should be resting!” because she is also solely devoted to him and osha just in disbelief, shocked looking upon the dynamics of them and how they are so close. like ugh <3

devotion | qimir

SUMMARY -> devotion is one word to describe his pupil, his sweet and caring devoted pupil. he would burn the world for her if she asked so, but he knew deep down what he was feeling was wrong. he couldn't help himself, could he?

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> slight-nsfw

WARNINGS -> possessive!qimir, master-pupil dynamic (fucked-up ver.), mentions of age-gap (legal), sexual thoughts, he's literally downbad af, violence & blood.

WC -> 1.7k

a/n: gHADDDD I WANT A POSSESSIVE QIMIR AS WELL. this req has me drooling! hope you liked it, anonz!! <3

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

enjoy !!

watching you fight for him has his blood going.

he watches you with hazy eyes as you bend down to swipe off a jedi that was attacking you from behind. your dual-saber is a sight to see of how you wield it with such precision all because of his teachings. you were aggressive in your offensive stance, placing no mercy upon the three jedis attacking you simultaneously. you defended yourself just like he expected you to, using your dual-wielded blade to block attacks while you would detach them to switch to massacring your opponents. all drop dead beneath your feet and a splatter of blood hits your cheek as your eyes darken. his heart beat loudly while he stood up slowly from where he was dropped by the umbramoths that attacked him, and your head immediately looked in his direction.

"master!" your eyes went from that menacing stare into a worried look. you switch off your sabers, tucking them back to your belt as you jogged towards him. oh, the way you call him master has blood rushing towards where he begged himself not to linger. he groans as he holds his hand up, and you stop before him.

"i'm fine." he grits his teeth as he adjusts his weakened arm, rolling it to ease the pain.

"you're not fine." you scold him, the ever-doting pupil you are. in this scenario, if someone else had said that to him, he might have just snapped their neck out of annoyance. but with you, he would always stay quiet and let you dote on him. it was his favorite thing you would do.

you stand near him, and your sweet scent envelops his nostrils. he lets out a long sigh when you touch his arm, but he winces when he feels a sharp pain. you immediately let go and he feels disappointed that your soft touch is gone.

"you need a bacta-patch, master. we should leave now." you suggested, and he stared at you for a moment, taking in your serene face that's splattered with jedi blood. he can't help himself but lift his weak arm up to swipe away the blood on your cheek despite the stinging pain.

"in a while, my acolyte." he says, and you stay silent, letting him caress your face. your eyes shimmer and he feels happy at that how you obey him. he still needs to find mae and the remaining jedi, sol, to kill in khofar. they had seen his face and his safety, especially yours is in danger. the thought of his other former pupil brings distaste to his mind. why couldn't she be like you? devoted only to him and him only. but he guessed that was what made you special... your devotion to him was his drug. and he will never let that drug be of another.

・゜゜・．

osha watches qimir bend down to taste the soup he's simmering in his cooking pot. she feels disarrayed, waking up in his home on this unknown planet he had taken her when she was unconscious. she thinks about taking his saber and killing him right here, but the only problem is you. his other pupil, she knows she should fear the sith before her, but his other pupil is what she fears the most as you had killed yord. snapping his neck with ease and carelessly dropping him to the ground that night in khofar. she pieced it together that you are severely loyal to qimir, and that loyalty and devotion frightens her.

luckily, you weren't in the cave yet. you had gone out to harvest some herbs and fish outside. if you were in the room, she might want to consider fleeing at the very moment, as qimir had said that she's apparently not a prisoner here. but she is curious about you more than your master... you look young, maybe a year or two younger than her and mae, and she wonders when did you became his pupil. she gathers the courage to ask the man before her.

"your other pupil... how old is she?" she asks him as he looks at her with a sudden serious look.

"why do you ask?" qimir raises a brow.

"just answer it." he stands up, defensive he is that osha's asking about you. of course, it was a harmless question, but he feels like a lot of people are asking about you these days, and it annoys him. first, it was yord, when you were beside him in disguise in the apothecary, the jedi knight had immediately been drawn to question you. he considered choking the jedi right there for how close he was to interrogating you. second, it was a random drunk local in the streets of olega, asking your name and striking up a flirty conversation. that made him almost punch the poor guy in the plaza. he didn't want anyone talking to you... you were his and he will keep that attention of yours to him.

"a year older than mae and you." he answers shortly, your age was something else that had him going crazy if his feelings for you were right. you are his pupil and he is your master. the lines blur at that for him for his strong emotions for you. but you are somewhere maybe 8 or 10 years younger than him. not that it was big deal... you are an adult.

"so she was your pupil first before mae?"

"yes." he smiles at that, remembering how you were the only pupil that had seen his face than his cortosis helm for how he had seen how loyal you are to him. "my only devoted one."

osha shivers at that, feeling like this master-pupil dynamic was something else. she can't help but feel pity for you that you are placing your loyalty to a cruel, sick-headed murderer like him. what was it that made you be like this to him? what did he made you see that you're devoting your whole life to a man, who clearly would kill anyone in his way.

"then why take me here? if you have such a devoted pupil." osha hardens her tone, skeptical of his intentions now. qimir shrugs, extending his hand out to give her a bowl of stew.

"mae and her would always train together. a pity that your sister betrayed us. she was very fond of her." her eyes widened at his answer. was that truly it? that he brought her here just for you? somehow, she feels like the most devoted one in the room between you and him is him.

"you are insane-"

"master? shouldn't you be resting?" your voice interrupts osha's insult towards him. qimir grins as osha takes the bowl from his hand, not wanting to meet your gaze. you had a scolding look on your face as you placed your basket on the side, heading towards him. he feels his chest swell with giddiness when you near him.

"i am." his tone is light and osha observes the moment before her. how close you are with him, it surprises her. you roll your eyes as you check the bacta-patch on his arm.

"i thought i said i would take care of osha." you pout at him and he stares at your lips. osha suddenly feels uncomfortable, seeing how caring you are to this monster she views him as, and he's clearly looking at you with much more than a master should look at his pupil. not noticing osha's uncomfortable gaze, there's a moment of silence wherein you just examine his arm while he stands there, a million of explicit images in his mind formulating from your touch. he almost wants to pull you in his arms how adorable you look right now.

his honey-dark brown eyes burns on you, he's actually amused how you don't notice him with how obsessed he is with you. that if you just say the word that you want the whole galaxy burning, he would do so for you. you were at his mercy, he would do anything for you... anything.

osha watches in her horror how his eyes are different all of the sudden. it's as if he wants to eat you alive- and maker, she doesn't want to guess another meaning of that. she gulps, standing up, interrupting your examination on his arm as you looked at her. his jaw ticks in annoyance as he throws a glare at osha for disturbing your bonding moment with him.

"i'm going to head out." osha places her bowl down and you nod at her. she quickly exits the room, feeling too uncomfortable to witness what just happened, even though it was just innocent in a manner.

"you scared her." you look to qimir. he grins, pulling you close to him. his annoyance fades away, seeing that you two are alone now.

"can't a man appreciate a woman's healing touch?" he teases and you blush at that. your oblivious nature isn't fooling him this time, he knows deep-down you know what he's feeling for you. and he hopes it would be reciprocated. his lips tickle your ear of how close he is, you stay silent, waiting for what he'll do next. his lips graze the tip of your ear and you place your hand on his lean chest.

"master... stop-"

"you were excellent in defending me. i should reward you." he cuts you off. "anything... just say anything and it's yours, my acolyte."

"i-" you don't know what to say when he's kissing the side of your face. "i want you."

his eyes turn dark and a malicious grin spreads across his charming face. you stare up at him, feeling his arms wrap around you. oh, the things he'll do to you.

"good." he says as he immediately surges downwards to capture your sweet lips to his. he devours you as you hold on his broad shoulders. the tent in his pants rubbed against your stomach makes him groan. your soft sighs of "master" and his name makes him feel like an animal in heat, and he cannot wait to devour you fully... he is yours forever and you...

his sweet, devoted, loyal pupil are his until the end of time.

[kinopio-writes]

Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,

A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.

Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.

Words: 727 (not including the bullet points, edited)

Warnings: Very vulgar language, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam

———

How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)

• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her

• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch

• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction

• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?

• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”

• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child

• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid

• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot

• the problem was that she’s an exterminator

• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills

• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam

• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman

• he came back with nothing

• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—

• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child

• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?

• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before

• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder

• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib

• doesn’t know how to hold it properly

• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents

• thinks he’s the best dad because of it

• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child

• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?

• nuh-uh

• sometimes forgets he has a kid

• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes

• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here

let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?

———

Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.

“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.

He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—

He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”

The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.

“OH MY GOD—”

———

Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.

“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.

Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.

“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.

Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.

Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.

Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.

———

The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.

In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.

“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.

“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”

“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.

“Ugh, yeah, so what?”

“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”

“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.

“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.

“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.

“How long have you kept this child?”

“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”

“What is its name?”

“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”

Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”

“Adam Jr.”

“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”

As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.

[weird-addiction]

“You’re all Demons. I rule you all.”

Summary: The Archons are not the most powerful, nor is Celestia.

Pairing: Genshin Archons x Male!Reader

Warnings: Slight SAGAU creator themes, manipulative reader, unhealthy power dynamics, controlling reader, Furnia slander

The creator is not one to be looked down upon. Yet, over the thousands of years, everyone and even the archons have forgotten them. No shrines, offerings or worshippers have been founded.

Well, they should know that the creator does not take lightly to what they have done. They have eyes everywhere, and knows everything that is going on.

“Pathetic pathetic pathetic! Such a bore!”, they said. His voice ran through the ears of the archons and the heavens themselves. “I give them stories, backgrounds, and such titles to use for a better Teyvat. And yet, they are so boring to not even use them! Ugh! Execution would have been better!”

His insults came one after the other, and the gods heard them all. “This throne is not for them. It is mine and mine alone.” Every word was heard the archons, well, almost every word. The creator chose what they can and can’t hear.

“Perhaps I should pay them a visit.”

And that is how they came to Mondstadt. Home of freedom and wine, ‘ruled’ by the Barbatos. But when he stepped into the city, he could tell the god has been slacking off. No rules, no disciplines, and no official government. Just a military force that can be called a military force.

He went to the acting Grandmaster Jean, who was stunned to see such a being. “Tell me, where is Barbatos. I wish to speak with him.”

“Y-you mean Venti? He’s probably at the Angel’s Share.”

To the tavern he went and indeed the bard sat, almost drunk out of his mind as he round after round.

“Venti is it?” The stern voice came. The bard was quickly shocked to his core to the same voice. “Mind if we have a word?”

Outside behind the tavern, Venti was on his knees. Practically begging for forgiveness. “Please! I’m sorry! I promise to-”

“To what? I barely see any shrines of me. Why should they worship you when you have abandoned your responsibilities? Should I send you back to the hells with you?” His voice stood with no room for negotiations or retaliations.

“No! Please! I’ll do better!” The bard begged. Tears were threatening to spill.

“Don’t forget from where you came from. You can change forms, you can’t change your eyes.” With a snap of his fingers, Venti’s eyes begin to burn. Black surrounded his pupils as he shut them in agony.

“That’s better. Your true colors are better.”

Venti bowed his head as he could do nothing but except the truths. The truth of his own freedom has been revealed for all to see.

“I have others to see to. Perhaps I should take a round trip to see all of them. See you my dear Zephyr.”

His next stop was Liyue, what a great city built on the coast. He had heard that their god was dead.

“What a load of bullshit. Trying to escape responsibilities to? Too fucking bad.”

Up on a mountain is where he found the retired geo archon. Or rather, Morax.

“Nice view no? Now I know why you liked building mountains so much.” Zhongli turned around to see the unfamiliar, his face said it all.

“Who are you? How do you know my identity?”

“Aw. Little pup. Looks like your leash needs a tightening.” He made a gesture which was pulling an invisible chain, which made Zhongli fall towards him.

“You…it’s you. Why are you here?” The archon’s eyes widen to the realization.

“I’m disappointed in you. No shrines, no worship, nothing in my name. Do I need to send you back to the hells? I would be glad to do so. The others are always asking ‘Where’s Morax?’ ‘Oh I wish I can play with Morax again. Where is he?’ Do you remember?”

A wide smile took his face as he saw the other’s face drop. He did indeed remember.

Zhongli fell to his knees remembering the years of torment. In his youth, he didn’t listen. “Please. Don’t. I beg of you.”

He tched. “Oh Morax. Don’t beg. It’s not a good look on you. I suppose you are retired after all, but you do have quite the influence no? Why not put that to use? Remember the contract you signed with me?”

Of course he remembers. It was the first contract he ever made. But he was one who signed it. To this day, the contract was kept under lock and key. “Yes…” Was all he said.

“Good. You can hide your identity, but you can’t hide your chains.” A snap of his fingers, shackles appeared on the archon’s wrists and ankles. Heavy like lead they were. Binding him down to earth, to his contract.

“Reminds me of old days! What joy! Say hi to the adepti for me! I’m sure they missed me oh so much!”

He then disappeared and left Zhongli there with chains for all to see. Bound to unspoken of words.

Inazuma was a nation he kept hearing bad things about. What had the archon done to be hated so much? At least the borders were open now, seems that forever can’t be forever.

“Oh Ei. The eternity you wanted was the gluttony of control you wished you had right?”

Locked away in her palace, in the heart of the city, Ei sat with her eyes closed.

“Beezlebub. How nice it is to see you again? Did you miss me?”

Ei was startled and her hand went to her polearm, ready to attack where the voice came from. “How did you come in here? Who let you in?”

“After all these years, you are still the same. Eternity truly doesn’t change you does it? Your gluttony will never be satisfied will it? What would your sister say?” The words came flowing out one after the other, he did not even have to think as he spoke. He knew exactly what to say.

“You-!” Ei pounced forward, the tip of her weapon stopping at his throat. One wrong move and he would be harmed, but he knew she wouldn’t, her arm was shaking after all.

“You close your borders, take the people’s visions. Were you so afraid of change that you wanted an illusion control that you never had. Pathetic.” Ei begin to tremble as she heard such words, but there was nothing she can do. He was her superior after all, this would be a death sentence if she tried to fight him.

“No worshippers of me, no shrines, not even a fucking thank you to me for giving you these islands.” A laugh left his lips as he thought of it.

“You can hide away in your plain, but you can’t hide from the true reality outside your door.” A snap of his fingers, Makoto’s body dropped in front of her. Her eternity in the open for all to see.

A smirk overtook his features. “Remember, she’s in my hands. You are more than welcome to join her, but…I don’t think I will. Your eternity will be spent in the same gluttony of control, until you are swallowed whole.”

The archon fell to her knees, just like all the others. “Please. Wait..I’m sorry..”

“Aw. Don’t beg. You all look so pathetic while doing it. I made you all better than this. But here you all are, no backbone to be seen. Which, I can see why.” Makoto’s body disappeared as Ei was starting to shed tears.

Moving to crouch down to her level, his lips next to her ear. “Once you die, you will be in the same eternity you wanted. You will know what it is like to be forever unchanging.”

Getting back to the mainland across an entire ocean was not fun. Even when he was stepping through the air, it still took a long time. Next nation was Sumeru. Nahida was the one archon he liked, she always knew what was going on.

Not to mention, she was a victim herself. But the real reason was that she had kept the shrines the former archon had built in his name, and the people still worshipped him to this day.

“I have expected you.” Came the small voice, her back was turned as she showed no hostility or fear to the one that walked towards her.

“Buer.” However, his respect her Nahida only went so far. Her chains were just a bit less…drastic.

“Seems like your people have finally changed their minds. Still chained to the evermore knowledge I see.” He stated, a laugh was held back.

"It is something I have much time for. I do not mind if the chains are the ones that I like." Nahida responsed.

"Then I wish you good luck. You are only 500 years old after all, you have all the time in Teyvat for this." Waving over his shoulder as he left the sanctum which the younger archon stayed in.

The next nation is one he has known to hate, or rather, hate the heavenly principles for. For as long as he had seen, the dragons and vishaps were the natives that they had decided to usurp for power. And Fountaine was one of these, 500 years of a fake god and authority taking the throne. While the true ruler was cast aside.

He sat one foot into the Nation and he already hears the annoying voice of the 'archon', really wish she could really shut up already. "Oh! So you are here after all! Welcome! I, welcome you to my beautiful nation!"

He did not say anything, but rather he stared up at her and gave her a glare; even from that distance she could see it and knew he was not here for a friendly visit. "I will see you in your office Furina."

When he got there, he was greeted with someone else. The Hydro Dragon, the rightful ruler of these lands. "Neuvillette."

"Your Grace." He bowed, still addressing him the same way just all the those years ago. And most likely, the only one left that still does so. Furina then came into the office, a look of fear in her eyes.

"Furina, how...unpleasant to see you." Hearing the words, she looked more dejected than she already did.

"Please. If you're going to say it then just say it."

"Fine." He sat down on one of the fancy armchairs that sat around the room.

"Just because you are forced to play a role for 500 years does not mean you get sympathy from me, should have thought of that before your archon usurped him." Making a hand gesture towards Neuvillette.

"You're sad that you had to play a role you did not want against your will? You know what we call that? The real world. Wake the fuck up if you think the world owes you anything just because of that. Have you even taken a look around you at the people for this many years? Their lives are filled with doing things they don't want, and it's a different thing every time. You do one same thing and you think can get sympathy? Maybe from Neuvillette sure, but not me. And when you finally die and fade out from this world and nobody remembers you, you will appear in my halls begging for my attention. I will not spare a single thing for you." A stone cold expression sat on his features.

The room was tense, Furina was on the verge of tears. Neuvillette held a worried face as he wanted to comfort her, but from one hand gesture from his creator, he stayed his feet and did not move.

"An arch duke of hell? Please. You can barely get out of heaven. You want to fall into infernal blaze so bad that you need to fool a crime to get casted out? Pathetic." He spat.

He stood up and walked out the door, Neuvillette followed after him.

"What is it?" His tone was eager as he had somewhere else to be.

"Your Grace, please rethink of it. Lady Furina is in pain, after 500 years, she is bound to have some sort problems with it all." He pleaded.

"Aw~, bound to the chains of justice like she is. I did not create you this way."

"..." Neuvillette was at a lost for words.

"Fine. She can keep her role and not appear in my halls after her timely death, that's for her immortal side of things. But once she is one more mortal, she will still die, and I will know to give her a quick death." A smile took over, like he was saying this was the better action.

"W-what? How is that-"

"Unless you want her to die right now? I can make that happen."

"No, Your Grace."

"Good. She would make such a pretty corpse."

Silence took the space between the two of them, a sea of mist and fog was slowly putting distance between them.

"Everyone on this side of the world are demons. I rule you all."

[usagikookiejams]

BEING AWAY FROM THEM FOR SOME WEEKS

Shiba Taiju, Sano Shinichiro, Haitani Ran

⚠️WARNING: Curse words, mentions of kill (no actual killing tho in this hc), 'crazy' behavior lol

SHIBA TAIJU

"When are you coming back, baby?," the guy on the other line inquired. "Can you like stop asking me same question for the past 2 weeks already?," you tsked. "Brat, I'm just asking ya know," you could feel him rolling his eyes by the tone of his voice. "Hehe sorry love, I promise I will come back ASAP once my event is done here. Mwah, TTYL!," you hung up. Fast forward, you came back to Japan after 4 days since the call. You arrived at Taiju's house a.k.a Black Dragon's HQ where you could see most of his subordinates were bandaged up. "What the...," your thoughts were interrupted upon hearing some yelling, HIS yell to be exact. You entered the house to witness Taiju beating up his subordinate with a baseball bat. "Care to explain?," you inquired which led to Taiju stopping his action, and the subordinate repeatedly bow at you while saying thank you. Kokonoi came into the frame while laughing, "He got WILD when you were not by his side, so he released the pent up stress towards these guys." Taiju let go of the bat and walked towards you, "Tch! They are lucky that you are here already. If not, I swear I could go rampage and kill half of these useless guys." You looked at him dead in the eyes while shaking your head, "You maniac, how do I even like you in the first place." Taiju just shrugged and took you to ride on his motorcycle while enjoying your presence again.

SANO SHINICHIRO

You were watering the plant in your parents' garden when suddenly your phone started ringing. You went to retrieve them before greeting the other person on the line, "Hello babe!." You could hear rustling which may indicates that the person was still in bed. "Hey darling, I miss you so much! Can you come home by today? Ahhh I literally haven't eaten properly since you left," which continued by the sounds of Emma's nag telling him to get his ass off the bed and go to work already. You could hear a loud 'hey gimme back!' before Shinichiro's voice was replaced with Emma's on the other line, "Hey Y/N, when are you coming back? This lazybum has been off his job for 3 weeks now, reasoning that he doesn't have enough energy to work. Ugh I really hate to tell you this but can you please please PLEASE come back ASAP. Istg he has been losing a lot of weight already ugh!." You talked with them for some minutes more before having to hang up. You felt guilty and tried to talk about it with your parents, in which they agreed that you should go back home to Shinichiro as your mom has been getting better from her sickness. Thus, the next day, you arrived at Tokyo. You didn't tell Shinichiro about your plan so upon seeing your face by the main door, Shinichiro dropped to his knees to hug your legs tightly while crying like a baby. "Please don't leave me ever again! If you need to go to your hometown, bring me with you so that we will not be separated huwaaa 😭😭," he messily crying, ruining your pants with his tears and snots. You just laughed at his behavior but still agreeing to his suggestion. "Ahh, this man is gonna be the death of me lol," you monologued in your head.

HAITANI RAN

You wouldn't lie that leaving this house in the hands of Ran's is really.... unnerving. This man literally loves to cause trouble at home, which most of the time leading you to feel like dying is a better option. Why is that? Cuz this man lovessSSS to pull 'harmless' pranks that drive you crazy, like right now; "Babeee, do you think the fish in the fish tank could survive if I put a sprinkleee of chilli flakes in the water?," Ran showed you the fish tank via the facetime. "Don't you dare Ran! That is MY fish so don't do this crazy shit unless you don't want me coming home again," you threatened him. "Hmmm...," he walked closer to the tank while shaking what seems like the small container of the chilli flakes you frequently use. "AHHH! ISTG DON'T!!," you screamed at him while saying profanity words. "HAHAHAHHA!!," you could see his camera shaking from his laugh, he later on flipped the camera to front facing him. "Dumbass babygirl, I would never do bad shit like that to animals you know 😔. Though I kill people on a daily basis. What kind of a maniac do you think I am? ☹️," he jutted his lower lip faking sadness. You glared at him through the screen while 'promising' that you are going to beat his ass once you come back. In the end, that promise was fulfilled by you beating his back with the frying pan he bought you on your birthday <3

[silvvermst]

SO, KISS ME

SYNOPSIS :: a drunk Warren somehow ends up in front of your dorm roon

NOTE :: made this while I was at work, got this inspo from an edit on tiktok !! btw, this is a gn! reader yeyyy

TYPE :: fluff / implied smut

A phone call snapped you from your focus on the computer, your fingers typing abruptly stopped. You took off your earphones and swiftly grabbed the phone from the other table.

“Yes, hello?” You pressed the phone between your ear and shoulder. While you focused back on your PC.

“Heeey, friend. Why you calling?” Although the owner of the voice slurred his words, it was booming loudly from the speaker that you had no choice but to wince.

You mouthed an, ‘Oh my God’ with a roll of your eyes.

“Helloooo, is that you my friend? My wizard friend, Dumblebee?” Again, the loudness of his voice remains the same.

“Fucking hell, Warren, you know that I'm grinding tonight!” You said with a huff, slowly losing focus from not just the loudness of his voice but his background with party songs.

“Oh, hi! Can, can you, uh, my broom is not working. So, please pick up.” An annoyed expression was now sitting comfortably on your face. Even from miles away you can imagine the harsh smell from the liqour.

“No, I'm not taking care of your drunk ass.” You huff by this time your character in the game already died, flashing red with a text saying ‘Game Over’. “Ugh, now, I'm dead.”

“What?! NO! You can't be dead!” He screams on his phone that makes you grimace and the phone slips from your shoulder and ears, letting it drop on the floor. From a short distance, you can faintly hear his voice.

“I swear to God, I'll kill you when I pick you up.” you muttered under your breath before picking up the phone from the floor. “Stay right where you are, I'll bring you home.”

Then, you ended the call. You grabbed the hoodie he left on your bed and put it on, secretly loving the way it fits perfectly on your body. You locked your dorm room and headed to the parking lot, with the keys jingling on your finger as you tucked your phone in your pockets.

As you were about to start the engine, a call buzzed through your phone. Warren's name appears on the called ID. “I told you I'm picking you up. Stay where you are.”

“Uh, hey, you must be Warren’s friend.” A feminine voice filled your ears as you turned the engine on.

“Yeah, who, who's this?” You stammered unintentionally, but somehow your voice breaks, either from embarrassment or uneasiness whether Warren is even present in the situation.

“This is Max, I, we, found Warren outside of the club.” Oh, she's the girl Warren's been talking about for a month. “We'll take him home.” She pauses since Warren's voice starts to interrupt her.

“Is that my Dumblebee?” You sighed.

“Alright, then, you guys take good care of him.” You fiddled with the keys and turned the engine off. The other caller ends it, then you finally let out a big sigh you've been keeping ever since you've heard Max's voice fill the car from Warren's phone. Does that mean they went to the party together? Or he finally invited her? Asked her out? Was that their first date?

“Fuuuuck!” You slammed the car door close, your hands finding warmth inside of the pocket of his hoodie. “Shouldn’t have called me if you already had someone taking care of you! Fucking…hell.”

You went back to your dorm with a grudge, slumping back down on your office chair. The game you were playing earlier was still on and how the light from the computers lights up your dimmed room. Playing this shitty game is the only thing that can stop your mind from thinking about whether Warren made it out alive and is safe. But of course, the more you play, the more time passes and your worry only gets worse. To the point you let your character get killed and the screen fades with a ‘Game Over’, and immediately grabs your phone that sits on top of your bed since you threw it away earlier.

“The least that girl could do was update me on whether Warren made it home safe.” You said under your breath, feeling irritated yet upset since you know you don't have the right to it, you were just his friend, not a partner. “But still! I can still get worried, God be damned.”

You input his number and it starts ringing and ringing, at first you thought there was something wrong with your speakers that it seems like it has an echo. “Wait, what the fuck?” The only difference was that the echo comes from a distance.

More likely from the other side of the door that you immediately connected the dots. You rush to your front door upon opening it, Warren's back was lying against your door upon opening his back smashes harshly against the floor that he let out grunts of pain.

“Fuck! Warren? What the, what are you?” Your questions that were running through your mind seemed to fade away when you saw the discomfort on his face. “Alright, wake up. Let's get you to my bed.”

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you used yourself as his crutch, stumbling down to your bed. You let go of his weight when you were near your bed, and you watched as his head hit the pillows that he made a sound from.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Warren?” You sighed, not even caring if he's going to answer since he doesn't look conscious.

“Mhm…” He lets out that it made you step closer.

“What did you say?”

“You promised to pick me up.” He said in the most childish tone, like a kid that didn't get a gift from their birthday.

“Well, I'm sorry, your highness.” You said sarcastically while you rolled your eyes. “I would have if not for your little girlfriend.”

“Max is my friend.” You couldn't help but make an annoyed face, as you walked away from him and went to close the door.

“And I'm your friend, there's an obvious difference between how you treat me and her.” You whispered.

“I heard that.” How the fuck?!

“Now, aren't you a superhero with a lame power? Tell me, do you hear the birds chirping too?” You bite back, even yourself was surprised to have a petty fight with a drunkard.

He tries to sit up but fails miserably, as it seems the bed was swallowing him up. “Can you please come here? I really can't feel my legs.”

“Mhn, are you sobering up?” He didn't answer, instead opening his arms and legs wide like a starfish. “Nope, still drunk as fuck.”

“I missed you, we didn't see each other for like,” He pauses with a confused expression planted on his face. “For like, uh, four days?”

“It was just two days, Warren. Two. Days.” You emphasized the last two words, and turned to your heels walking towards your small kitchen counter. Brewing hot water on an electric kettle.

“I missed playing with you, studying with you, watching with you, reading your stories.” He says in his starfish position, still. Although, he didn't say he missed you but you were glad enough that he missed doing things with you.

“Me too.” A short reply that led him to keep talking that you almost zoned out.

“So yeah, that's how I got stuck at the party. Can you believe it?! Those fuckers! Now, I have to buy new tires.” He exclaimed, your bed was already a mess since one of your pillows was on the floor and your comforter was touching the floor.

“Don’t worry we'll get your car fixed. I know a vulcanizing shop, we can get a new tire.” The shriek of the kettle began and he screamed. Literally, screamed.

“What was that?!”

“Calm your tits, I'm preparing you some tea.” You pulled the plug and prepared a blue mug, his mug, which is a mug that he alone only uses. You filled the mug and dropped a tea bag on it.

“Mhm, tea. I like it with milk.”

“With milk, I know.” The both of you said in unison.

You could hear him thrash around your bed as there were shuffling and whining coming from him. He gets so fussy when he's drunk.

“Is it done?” He asks, his head resting against his hand as he turns his body to look at you from the kitchen counter. “You look good in my hoodie.”

Realization hits hard when you remembered you didn't take it off after you came back, as your blush appears quickly on your cheeks and feel its heat travel to your ears and down to your spine that makes your ears ring. “It was cold and your hoodie was the only thing I have right now.” You said quietly, thank fucking hell your back was on him because he can easily see the redness of your cheeks. But you didn't notice that he already got up from your bed.

“Mhm, should I just give you all of my clothes? You seemed to look better on them than on me.” He whispered beside you, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Shit! Warren! When did you get there? I thought you couldn't feel your legs!” It was too late, he already saw your face. So instead, you wrapped your hand on the handle of the mug and pushed it gently to him. “Get yourself sober and I'll take you home.”

You walked away, almost running from him. As your eyes darted around the room, you plopped down on your swivel chair. Though, you can hear him take some sips of his tea and hear a hiss from burning his tongue. “Are you making fun of me?”

You couldn't help but giggle at him, “Sorry, sorry, you sounded like an idiot.”

“Nuh uh, my GPA is higher than yours. Therefore, your argument deems to be irrelevant.” You can hear him start to walk, but not near you. He settled down on your bed once again. “I can see you rolling your eyes.”

“Whatever, finish your tea… you're crazy for ending up here” You mulled over the thought of it and couldn't help but ask him. “Why were you even here in the first place?”

“You said you'll pick me up.” He repeated his answer from the same previous question you asked him. “I told them to drop me here. So you'll get to take me home.”

You noticed he hasn't slurred his speech so much, maybe since the conversation went on and on it made him sober enough.

“You’re an idiot, you really are. It's just, sometimes I don't even get you. We've been friends for a while. I mean, maybe for a while, but you're hard to read. And the stupid comments you're making earlier, you make it sound like I stole your clothes.” Your frustration from earlier was already filling you up that you didn't notice he set the half empty mug in your nightstand and walked towards you.

Warren saw how your shoulder blades motion as your hands waves around while you're explaining, but when you get like this you always turn your back on him. He hates it the most, when you finally say your true feelings to him but you're talking to air instead of facing him. He wants to see your face, your expressions, that cute crunch that forms between your eyebrows, or how you bite your lower lip when you hesitate but in the end spills whatever you're thinking anyway. He couldn't read you the way he wanted to, and so he approached you, placing a firm hand on your swivel chair and turned you around.

“Do you want me to stay or not?” His voice was soft but his expression was stoic. The drunkenness he felt earlier dissipates, he could clearly see your face and your mouth formed an ‘o’. Then, once again the blood on your body travels back to your cheeks staining it with red.

You were like a gaping fish when you met him face to face, trapping you on the chair as his hands held on the armrest. “Well?” He urges on. “Does your silence means ‘yes’?”

Thoughts were rushing through your mind, what the fuck is he exactly insinuating?! First, he goes to that fucking drive-in with a girl. The next he hangs out with Brooke. Now, he's trapping you in this chair with no idea why the fuck is he even upset! If anyone is upset, it should be you!

“I just thought Max will take you home, how was I supposed to know you'll get this childish?!” You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning your back to the chair. “There are already a lot of people taking care of you, why should I include myself in? We're just friends.”

His shoulders slacken. “Then, fine. I'll get going, then.” He grunted, pulling himself away from you. Swaying from side to side as if his drunkenness came back. “Poor me, alone and drunk , I hope I won't run into some muggers.”

You sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Just pray that I won't kill you tonight. At least, get sober before we head out because I'm not dragging your sleepy ass when you pass out.”

“Okie dokie! Don't worry, I'm all sober now.” He responds with a smile on his face before launching himself on your bed.

“But you just said you're drunk?!” You threw your hands up in frustration.

“Did I say that? Oh, well.” His jolly attitude continues as he hugs your pillow and comforter. Is he actually faking his sobriety right now?

You got up from your chair and walked to him, “Alright, stop lounging around and let's get going”

He was quiet for a second but he didn't get off the bed, “I’m sorry for earlier, Chloe told me those lines usually work.” Instead he was busying himself with fiddling the stitching of your pillows.

“It’s fine.” You sighed, stood in front of him and he started to look at you with that gaze. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘usually work’?”

Warren looks at you straight in the eyes, the type of stare that pulls you in as if there was a whole constellation inside his irises. He eventually looked away, pushing himself up from your bed until he was standing in front of you, his shadow created by the low light of the lamp covering you.

“What?” You ask, realizing how dumb you sound, like a deer in headlights.

“You really are naïve, as Chloe said.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I'm gonna get going.” He turned his back on you and headed to your door. Of course, you followed after him. When he opened the door, he stepped out in the doorframe, making the door remained open since he was still standing on its way, not budging.

“Now, what?” You asked, your phone in your pocket buzzing. “Wait, let me get this first.”

As you were about to pull out your phone, he asked you. “Truth or dare?”

“The fuck are you talking about.” You brows furrowed, confusion written all over you that you start to look like a question mark.

“Truth or dare? If you don't answer or do the dare, you'll do my homework for a month.” He repeated, his hands fidgeting to the point he started to scratch his nape. “Come on, don't make me look like an idiot.”

“You already are, dumbass. And it's dare, but make sure I don't get into trouble.” You took your phone and saw the caller ID and declined the call.

“Kissmerightnow.” He says, although his words came out too fast. But you weren't an idiot to not understand it. Then, his cheeks blushed with red as dark as cherries.

You were speechless to say the least, by how he's acting now made you believe for a second he's actually serious. But you know better that there's no way, surely he's just pulling a joke that Chloe, maybe, taught him.

So, you took his hand and planted a ghost kiss. Your lips barely brushed against his knuckles, but he could feel your hot breath that made his blush even darker and you noticed the twitch of his hand.

“There, asshole. Are you happy now? Let's get going.” You say but you were as flushed as him.

“Now, you ask me.” He pouts like a fucking child, you don't know whether you can stop yourself from pinching his cheek if he doesn't stop this cuteness.

“Fuuuck! Fine! Truth or dare?” You impatiently said, your hands resting on your hips.

“Dare.” You laughed at how determined he looks.

“Then, kiss me on the lips.” You say with a smug grin on your face.

He looked at you, again with that fucking stare, “Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious, unless you want to ace all of my homeworks this month—”

You didn't finish your sentence because his own lips shut you up, his hands on your plump, red cheeks. His soft lips brush against yours, his eyes are scrunched close while his ear turns red that's similar to the color of his cheeks.

Your arms were limped on your sides, as you felt his body heat wrapped around you. You didn't realized that you were kissing him back, but he made a squeak when he felt your tongue glide on his lower lip. He patted your shoulder, stopping the kiss and took deep breaths that you kept while the two of you basked in each other's kisses.

The both of you were silent, but finally, you finally understood the look he gave you too many times. He was hitting on you in the first place, you were just too dumb to notice. Your eyes finally understood him, as well as he understands you.

The silence was deafening which is why you pulled him to you by his collar and closed the door behind you. Wishing no one saw the both of you making out in the hallway.

Although, a certain brunette with blue hair peered at the window.

“I really thought he'd chicken out, man. I mean, he was begging us to pick him home instead.” The blue haired bragged. “And in the end he makes us stop by at their dormitory. That guy is so fucking in love with them.”

“I know, but I guess we did a great job making him drunk first, huh?” Max says, though she wasn't really up to the challenge. She thought there was a better way to confess instead of drinking a lot of liquor to muster up Warren's courage. “Let's just not mention the fact that we put holes in his tires.”

“I doubt he'll get angry, I'm sureeeee he's enjoying a lot tonight.” She said with a grin, and Max just laughed and pulled her by the hand away from the window.