#he clocked your bullshit so fast

[ghouljams]

Happy Haunting

Rating: E (MDNI) Tags: Ghost!Ghost x f!reader, dub-con, temperature play, nipple play, fingering, squirting, unconventional blindfolds, bullshit ghost magic Summary: The veil is lifted, but you haven't quite figured out how that all works yet.

You almost anticipate it now, being awoken by hands and mouths, by the blunt press of an unseen cock and the swipe of transparent tongues. You can track the cycle of the moon by it, by the shadows cast along the floorboards. The broad shoulders of a man hunched over you, the slide of his hands, the roll of his hips, the coursing of moonlight through his form that leaves you so achingly deprived. Seeing his face again, seeing his body without the barrier of rage, is all you yearn for, all you ask for when he takes his fill from you.

The night is so dark when you lay down. That must be why it startles you to feel his teeth sinking into your breast. The clock chimes and you are suddenly accosted by his already full mouth. His body heavies on the mattress, the weight of him curled over you in the pitch black of the room as he fixes his mouth over your chest and bites to bruise. You can feel the heaviness of him in the dip of the bed under his knees, by the firm press of his hand against your mons as his fingers spread your folds.

You whine and he releases the delicate skin, rolls his tongue over the wet indents, moves to target another spot. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks, his tongue circling and poking at the bud. It's like ice. The chill grips you, makes goosebumps race over your skin and your nipple tightens to a stiff peak as you shiver. It doesn't deter your ghostly visitor, if anything it eggs him on. The wet slip of his tongue against your skin makes your eyes squeeze shut, the cold press of it yields to your skin in a way your brain can't rationalize.

Soft, mobile, ice.

The fact that the room is still pitch black only adds to the sensation. Your body on full alert to every touch, jolting like it's been struck every time his tongue grazes you. You can't anticipate his movements, can't even see yourself to know what marks he's already left.

His fingers, at least, have the warmth they've stolen from where they pinch at your clit. The heat of your desperate sex evening out the conflicting temperatures to an unfamiliar lukewarm that you're starting to find yourself craving. Inhuman, but tantalizingly so. Deft fingers rub and stroke over your cunt, slipping against the growing wetness as the mouth on your breast drags its tongue to the other one. The beads of drool that slip down your sternum leave you shuddering. Your teeth dig into your lip to keep from chattering as the cold air of your house claws over the ice-y spit your ghost leaves behind.

Perhaps that's why you find his mouth leaves you wanting. Unfairly teasing at your warm skin, leaving your breast aching, your nipple reaching for a muscle it barely knows. You ghost sinks his teeth into your other breast and you groan. They're harsher this time, over-eager. He takes advantage of his weight, grabs your hand when it's flown to grip his shoulder and presses it heavy against the pillow beside your head.

The draw of his shuddering breath sounds like panting. There's wheezing of his severed windpipe, and the drip of his blood, a wetness where you can never find a pool, sliding over your stomach to disappear before it hits the sheets, and panting. Like the man he is, taken by his own ministrations, subject of his own desires. You wonder if he digs his teeth into your meat so deeply because he has none of his own, if its envy that drives him to press his fingers into your warmth, or if it's simpler than that. A man driven by lust alone may not be better.

These thoughts don't stop the noise that forces itself from your chest when his finger crook. His thick digits thrusting hard into your cunt, shallow and fast. Intent follows the swirl of his tongue as it spirals closer to your nipple, the icicle heat of it making you arch into his touch. The movement forces your hips down onto his fingers, which must give him an idea the way he freezes.

His tongue leaves your skin, and your feel the tip of his head as he tilts it to watch you. His thumb rubs at your clit and you buck, the tight bud tingling with need under his lukewarm attention.

"Tha's it," He rasps, "Fuck y'rself on my fingers, lemme see ya work for my cock."

You whine, turn your face against the pillow and squeeze your eyes shut. It doesn't make much difference open or closed, you're blind in the darkness of the room. That doesn't stop the mirthful chuckle that escapes your ghost's lips as you try to turn away from him. It does make him jab his fingers in a bit deeper, abandoning the soft spot that leaves you putty in his hands in favor of wiggling his fingers against your gummy walls.

You shift your hips to get him back where you want him and he hums, pleased.

Tentatively, you rock your hips onto his fingers. You're sure it won't be as good but he meets your shallow movement with a precises thrust and your eyes roll. You try it again, and meet the same result. You move and so does he, your hips working to push onto his fingers, and your lip caught between your teeth as you focus on his request. It carves a burning trail through your hips, your stomach tight as you enjoy the steady pressure against your g-spot.

It's only too bad you can't move your hips fast enough to get what you really want.

"Ghost-"

"Ah ah," He stops you, "know my name now baby, you ask me-" He draws in air, steals it from your own lungs as he pulls his fingers free of your cunt to rub your clit, "-properly."

"Simon," You whimper. His fingers rub hard and fast over your clit. Your orgasm draws tight in your stomach, and your hole drools with slick. Desperate. Debauched. Your fingers claw at his cold skin as his mouth attaches itself to your nipple again. "I want to come. Plea-ease." Your cunt clenches tight as his teeth bite into your nipple, and roll the tight bud between the sharp dentition.

The chill of his tongue does little to sooth you, but the slide of his fingers back to your cunt melts through the pain. He moves to give your other breast the same treatment as he starts to fuck you with his fingers in earnest.

You can hear the sloppy wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, the slap of his hand against your skin. He pulls at your breast, his teeth still closed firmly around the tight nipple, tugging it away from your body only to let the soft skin fall back.

He spits on your chest, just as you feel the tight dam break. Your cunt pulses, your stomach pulls tight, and liquid trickles from you. Only to be splashed back onto your thighs by the ever present thrust of Simon's fingers. He works you through your orgasm, through the icy slide of his spit between your tits, and doesn't let up. You scramble to push at his hand, the overwhelming feeling or coming starting to rush into an overload of sensation.

It works. Simon mercifully pulls his fingers from you, and you feel your muscles unspool onto the mattress. He even releases your other hand-

And climbs up your hips to settle over your chest.

Your breath shudders out of you, your ribs held between his thick thighs and your hand guided to grip his fat cock as he positions himself comfortably.

"Give it a stroke love, wanna see ya paint that pretty face." You hold your tongue out for him, and feel his thumb pin it in place. "Greedy little slut aren't ya," He hums, "try not to get any in your eyes."

As if you have any choice in the matter with the lights off.

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

[steddieas-shegoes]

does he always do this?

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'heard it in a love song'

rated m | 995 words | cw: mentions of sex | tags: everyone loves steve, but eddie loves steve like a love song, steddie, corroded coffin friendship

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie tapped his pencil against the journal, checking the clock above the phone in the kitchen for the hundredth time in the last 30 minutes.

Steve was late.

Steve was never late.

He was only minutes away from trying to call his house to make sure he didn't forget he was coming over when he heard a car pull up out front.

"Finally," he said to himself, throwing the pencil down and pushing the chair away from the table.

He went to open the door and was shocked to find not just Steve, but his entire band as well.

"Uh…hi?" Eddie watched as they all grabbed backpacks from Steve's car. "What's happening right now? Is it an intervention? I don't even drink."

Steve rolled his eyes as he got closer and kissed the corner of Eddie's mouth.

"The guys are here to help with the song."

"What song? There's no song," Eddie panicked. It was supposed to be a secret, dammit. He'd been so careful.

"The song you've been writing for me that you're having trouble with. You've been distracted for days and I want my boyfriend back," Steve pushed past him and into the kitchen, opening the fridge to start grabbing random things Eddie didn't even know they had.

"Hey Eddie," Jeff and Frankie said in unison as they pushed past him and set their bags on the floor inside.

"Hey, man," Gareth said as he did the same.

"Who told him about the song?" Eddie hissed as Steve made himself busy pulling a pan out of the cabinet.

"No one. You left your journal wide open on your desk and he saw it when he was getting ready for work," Jeff rolled his eyes. "We told you to keep your stuff hidden."

"I thought you were just being assholes about Steve being my boyfriend!" Eddie threw his hands up in frustration. This was bullshit. He could get the song done on his own!

"Anyone allergic to anything?" Steve called out from the counter, where a variety of peppers, onions, and garlic were spread out to be cut.

"I'm allergic to vegetables," Gareth smirked.

"Right. I'm sure," Steve didn't even entertain his comment, continuing to cut up the food in front of him. "Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes."

"Does he always just come in here and start cooking?" Frankie asked from his spot on the couch. He sure made himself comfy fast.

"Only if he knows I haven't eaten much."

"How does he know that?" Jeff asked as he settled in Wayne's chair.

"His hands are shaking because his sugar's low and he has six empty cans of Mountain Dew on the table, meaning he hasn't gotten up from the table for hours. Focus on the song, pretend I'm not here."

Eddie smiled fondly at Steve, only turning back to everyone when Gareth clapped his hands in his face.

"Dude, you're so fucked."

Eddie groaned. "Yeah, well, the song has me fucked up worse."

"What have you got so far?" Frankie asked.

Eddie got up to grab the journal from the table and threw it to him. Frankie read the few lines and nodded, smirking.

"This isn't a love song."

"What do you mean? Of course it's a love song!"

"Dude, this is a sex song."

"It is not!"

Jeff grabbed the journal and read the lines, his eyes widening momentarily before handing it over to Gareth.

"Damn, this is a sex song."

"You writing dirty things about me, baby?" Steve asked from his spot at the counter.

Eddie covered his face with his hands and groaned. "I wasn't trying to."

"Alright, so do you wanna shift gears and try to focus more on love or do you wanna stick with this?" Jeff asked, getting down to business. He was good at keeping them on track.

"Stick with this."

They sat around figuring out lines that could work, and Steve stood at the stove listening, but keeping to himself.

He ignored the teasing Eddie received when he admitted to wanting to see Steve in only his vest, but smiled to himself when he remembered the first time he'd worn only the vest while Eddie fucked him against his bedroom wall.

He ignored how red Eddie got when they tried to rewrite the line about "seeing white on red", saying it didn't make sense. Maybe to them it didn't, but all Steve could picture was when Eddie's cum painted his ass, bright red from the spanking Eddie'd given him.

They luckily didn't talk much about it over dinner, too busy shoving the food into their mouths to say anything.

After dinner, Steve cleaned up while they got back to it, then went to take a shower and get ready for bed. They might stay up all night writing, but he sure wouldn't be awake for much longer.

Eddie snuck into the bathroom while he was rinsing his hair, sitting on the sink and asking about his day.

When Steve got out of the shower, he wrapped his towel around his waist and stood in between Eddie's legs, cupping his face in his hands.

"You love me?" Steve asked, the same way he did every night.

"More than anything in the world, Stevie," Eddie answered, the same way he did every night.

"How's the song?"

"It's…our sex life. Kinda out in the open. Is that okay?"

Steve smirked. "Yeah."

"It's not really a love song."

"Sure it is. You love me, you fuck me. It's all the same," Steve kissed his lips softly, smiling into it. "Can't wait to hear when it's done."

"I could sing it to you tonight," Eddie wrapped his arms around him.

"Hey!" Gareth banged on the door. "No fucking while we're here!"

They both laughed.

"Better get back to it," Steve kissed him again before opening the door and walking to the bedroom.

Eddie watched him go, biting his lip.

"I've got the chorus," he yelled to the guys.

[dollfacefantasy]

You Make Me Cry Every Time

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon's going through a rough patch, and he takes it out on you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, angst, hurt/comfort, leon is mean in the beginning, toxic behavior i guess, implied age gap

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i was going through it and feeling emo so i wrote this. hope everyone enjoys as always <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight

The clock on the end table reads 2:43. Muted sounds of nightlife fill the space outside the walls of your apartment. You’re sprawled across the couch, half-asleep, with a soft blanket draped over you. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Again.

Leon had been going through a rough patch. He was moody and ready to snap at any moment it seemed. He drank a lot, and he was gone all the time. You knew he had been through so much and there was no end in sight. That’s why you tried to put up with it, but all of it was weighing down on you too.

You sharply inhale as the sound of keys being jammed into the lock on the front door rouses you from your stupor. Sitting up straight, you rub your face tiredly. Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness of the living room when the door opens. A beam of light from the hallway shoots across the floor, but it’s gone just as fast as it appears. You hear the lock click again and then see his shadow brush through the room as if you aren’t even there.

He’s in the kitchen now, and you’re not even fully sure of what he’s doing. But you pad in his direction anyways. Your soft voice breaks through the tense silence with a gentle call of his name.

“Leon?”

He turns to you. Even in the dark when you can’t fully see, you can feel the harsh nature of his stare.

“What are you doing up? Told you to stop waiting up for me,” he grumbles.

His tone stings, but you continue to approach him.

“I just worry. I can’t sleep if I don’t know you made it home safe,” you explain yourself quietly.

“Just go to bed. I’ll be there in a second,” he says and turns away again. But before he speaks, you swear you could hear him scoff. 

You didn’t understand where his sudden apparent resentment towards you came from. He had always dealt with so much, constantly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. But until the last few months, he never took it out on you. Now though, it felt like you were dancing across a floor full of glass shards to avoid setting off an outburst of his.

“I just want to make sure you’re alright,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and cautiously laying your hand on his back.

It immediately became clear to you that touching him was the wrong choice though. He shrugs you off and pushes your hand back down to your side. Now that you were closer, you could smell the scent of booze on him. It wasn’t as heavy as previous nights, but it was still present. You retract your hand and stare at him with concern.

“Leon, what’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you? We can talk about it. I-” you try to defuse the situation before he cuts you off.

“Jesus fucking Christ, it’s enough,” he snaps. He fully pulls away from you. “Take a hint. Go to bed.”

He speaks with such disdain for you, it makes your chest ache. “I was just trying to help,” you say, looking like a kicked puppy more and more with each passing moment. He takes no sympathy on you though.

“Well, you aren’t helping. You don’t know shit about my problems, so stop trying to fix them,” he says to you, his voice ice cold.

“I’m not trying to fix anything. I’m just trying to be there for you because I love you!” you defend. His miserable disposition was starting to frustrate you. This wasn’t the first time you’d jumped through these hoops for him.

“Oh, bullshit,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

That slices through you like a knife. Your lips part slightly in shock, and your words tangle up in your throat. You fight back tears, not wanting to seem even more pathetic to him.

“I can see what you want. You want the old me back. But he’s not coming back. He doesn’t exist anymore,” he rants at you.

“I never said that. You can’t get mad at me for problems you’re creating!” you say to him angrily and cross your arms.

“Aw, you don’t want me to get mad at you? Did I hurt your feelings, baby? Am I being mean to you?” he mocks with a cruel smile before his emotionless expression returns, “Grow the fuck up.”

You try to ignore his teasing and work towards a solution, but that really hurt. And it seemed like he said it with no thought or remorse, like he had been storing that and it just came out. Tears burn in your eyes and a lump rises in your throat, but you manage to choke out your next statement. 

“All you do is push me away. I can’t help you because you won’t even tell me what’s wrong,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even.

“I push you away because you can’t handle real problems. You show me that over and over again. I mean, look, you’re almost in tears, and I haven’t said anything that bad,” he says with a gesture to your eyes.

“If I’m so fucking immature and selfish, why are you even with me?” you ask. A few tears leak from your eyes and down your cheeks but you wipe them away as quickly as you can.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot recently, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to come up with an answer,” he says. He keeps eye contact with ease. His voice is laced with venom. There’s no trace of anything but bitter anger.

You honestly struggle to come up with a response. But that’s ok because he doesn’t wait for one before he continues speaking.

“I mean really, what do I get from this relationship? I know what you get. You get the attention you’re so fucking desperate for. But me? What do I get?” he asks, “A dumb little girl who follows me around like a lost puppy? I mean you’ve definitely got a pretty face, but it’s everything else that’s getting harder for me to stomach.”

You can’t stop yourself at this point. He knew how to break you down. Your lip juts out ever so slightly and quivers as tears slide down your cheeks. You take a step back from him and look down.

“There we go. Always with the fucking crying,” he sighs. His tone becomes mocking again as he continues. “You want me to kiss it better, sweetheart? Tell you everything’s gonna be ok. That I’m so so sorry.”

“No,” you cry, trying to defend yourself, “I don’t want any of that from you.”

“I’m sure,” he says flatly.

“Fuck you, Leon,” you weep, “I can’t win with you. You’re absolutely hellbent on being miserable. I’m done. Deal with your shit on your own. I don’t give a fuck.”

You turn on your heel and rush off to the bedroom. You fling the door shut, the thud of the slam echoing through the apartment.

At first, Leon didn’t care. His initial reaction was a shrug. He walks over to the couch, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and turns on the tv to some old movie. He was in a pissy mood, and he especially wasn’t in the mood to deal with you.

But as time goes on, and he sits there alone, a sense of shame starts to cast a shadow over his heart. He keeps seeing your face in his head. The soft look in your eyes while they were full tears he caused. Your body language as he ridiculed you, shrinking away from him, eager to get away but afraid of looking weak. He could hear a replay of his voice spitting out every callous thing he could think of. He felt like such an asshole.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by things of yours. You’d brought out a pillow and blanket for yourself while you stayed up for him. They smelled like you. On the table, you had a book you’d been reading for a while. You’d tell him parts and explain the drama to him when he wasn’t in a bad mood. The tv remotes, spare the one he had grabbed, were organized in the particular way you always did when you watched tv. He felt the void in his heart growing as you stayed shut away in the bedroom.

You weren’t faring much better. You curled up under the comforter on the bed, crying softly into the pillows. You were missing your favorite one since you’d left it out on the couch. You felt a deep ache in your abdomen, a weight that kept you thinking about him and everything he’d said to you.

Despite how tired you’d been before he came home, you couldn’t sleep now. No position felt comfortable. Nothing made the bed feel less empty.

You felt so pathetic. You should be mad at him, furious, enraged. He acted like such a dick. He said things that gave you reasonable grounds to kick him out. But you didn’t feel that way. You didn’t want that. You were heartbroken. He was right. You yearned for him to kiss it better and tell you it was all ok and that he didn’t mean any of it.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it. You give in. It was humiliating, but that was what you chose. You pad into the living room skeptically. You stand a distance from the couch, afraid of setting off another landmine. But if he wanted to yell, you’d let him at this point. You just wanted him.

He sees you standing near the opening to the hallway that entered the living room. You looked so sad, it tore at his heart. Your face was a mess, your posture was so timid. What was wrong with him?

“Come here,” he sighs and pats his lap.

Without hesitation, you cross the room. You’re in his arms, against his chest. Your arms are wrapped around him tight while your head is buried in the crook of his neck. You start crying again, but you keep it as quiet as possible, still hearing always with the fucking crying ringing through your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out as you struggle to restrain a sob. You didn’t even know what you were really apologizing for. “I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Another deep sigh escapes him. It could have been interpreted as annoyance, but you could tell it was regret. He rubs your back and holds you close against him.

“Shhh shhh. It’s alright, baby. It’s ok,” he says softly before stroking your hair, “We’re ok. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you weep and cling to him.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t be so quick to snap at you,” he says in a hushed tone. He kisses your head and continues rubbing your back, something he always did to calm you down.

He kept his voice quiet to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted you to be ok and to know he was sorry. But you didn’t need to know how awful this made him feel. Guilt was gnawing at him now as he watched you cry out the pain his words had inflicted on you. He gently rocks back and forth with you, wanting to calm you down even more. 

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. None of this is,” he says, “I got my own shit going on, and I take it out on you because it’s easy.”

His voice drops to a whisper towards the end of his statement. His words dripped with shame.

“You don’t deserve the shit I say to you, but I just see you standing there, looking so fucking sweet and perfect and you’re looking at me with all the love in the world and I can’t fucking take it,” he says, his voice cracking a little, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes, you do,” you cry, grabbing onto him tighter.

“No, I don’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Staying up every night, waiting for a mean old fuck to come home and yell at you,” he says. It was now his turn for his eyes to water while  a lump grows in his throat.

You were at another loss for words. You didn’t know what would convince him not to feel so down on himself. Instead, you press a soft kiss to the side of his throat. He tilts his head back and deeply exhales at the pure gesture. 

“And when I said I didn’t know why we were still together… I hope you know what a huge lie that was,” he says, “You’re all I have in this ugly god damn world. That’s it. Without you, I’d just be going through the motions.”

You gaze up at him as he goes through this. You curl your legs up on his lap with the rest of your body and lean into his touch in an attempt to offer him some comfort.

“And when I look at you, I see the opposite,” he says, his voice fully breaking now, “I see someone who has her entire future ahead of her, and she’s wasting it hanging around a guy like me.”

“You’re not a waste,” you say, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek.

Your thumb moves back and forth in tiny motions, dragging across the skin soothingly. You both stare into each others’ tearful eyes.

“You’re not a waste to me. I love you. You’re important to my life too,” you say seriously looking at him.

“Baby…” he sighs. You were so fucking cute. If he had any spine, he would break up with you. Force you to do better for yourself. But he couldn’t. He knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to let you go.

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. You rub your nose with his. You shift on his lap to be in a better position to give him your affection.

His hands fall to your hips to steady you. He returns the gesture and presses two gentle kisses of his own to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers.

You lean in for more kisses, accepting the apology with your actions. You rub the back of his neck and press your body against his. The question of whether he deserved forgiveness crossed your mind, but you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t really care.

He groans into the kiss as he feels your breasts flush against his chest. Your tongue enters his mouth, and he returns the passion. In a few minutes, saliva coats your lips and your breathing is heavy. You gently roll your hips down.

He feels that as soon as you do it. He disconnects his lips for a moment and looks at you with dilated pupils. You rock your hips again, bringing down your clothed cunt on his jeans. The stiff fabric gives you a good amount of friction and coaxes a whine from your throat.

“Honey,” he grunts, “Are you sure? You’re not just doing this because… because you think you have to, right?”

He didn’t want you using sex because you thought that’s what would please him. But he also couldn’t ignore the feeling of his cock hardening in pants.

You shake your head, panting as you grind on him, your lips still flushed from making out. “I wanna feel your love,” you say, your voice breathless.

That didn’t make him feel much better, but you felt so fucking good. “Babe, I can make you feel loved in other ways. Afterwards, I can show-”

“Wanna feel close,” you say before kissing him some more to shut him up.

Well, this would be as close as you could get. That put him at enough ease to give in to his urges. He grabs your hips harder, kneading the flesh of your ass too, and guides your movements. Both of you let out pleasurable sounds at the sensation.

“So fucking good to me,” he grunts, “My perfect girl.”

Your hips don’t stop as you pull off your thin sleep top. Your head falls back at the muted pleasure you were receiving from rubbing yourself on him.

His hands leave your hips and cup your tits. He squeezes them and then brings his mouth to a nipple. He flicks his tongue on the peak and swirls it with dedication. You let out a breathy whine.

He scoots you closer and continues his mouth’s work on your chest. His cock was now completely stiff in his pants, offering you even better friction. You feel it pressing on your clit just how you like, and you bite your lip. He can tell it’s feeling good.

He pulls his lips away from your nipples. Then he lays a few wet kisses on your jaw before picking you up by the waist and laying you back on the couch. He tugs off your shorts and panties.

His hand slides between your legs. He drags his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were.

“Such a sweet girl,” he breathes and captures your lips again in a quick kiss, “You’re soaked, babydoll.”

You nod timidly. He rubs you a little more, circling your throbbing clit and gliding over your wanting hole. You bite your lip and moan softly. Your hips rock against this touch as well before you suddenly whimper at a loss of contact and look up to see him sliding your fingers in his mouth. He groans at the taste of you before pulling the fingers back out of his mouth.

Reaching down, he unbuckles belt and drops his pants to the floor. He strokes his solid, flushed cock a few times. With the faint glow of the tv casting over the two of you, you can see a bead of precum emerging from the head. He adjusts his stance and positions himself at your entrance.

“I’m so sorry, little love. Let me try to make it better,” he breathes as he pushes inside.

Moans bubble in his throat as your tight, wet heat engulfs him. His head tilts back, and a ragged breath puffs from his lips. He grips the back of your thighs and holds your legs up.

He’s slow at first, dragging himself in and out, making sure to feel every inch of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, and your hips squirm for more.

As he begins to really thrust and set a consistent pace, he leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and rushed, but he needed to feel you like this. He needed to feel that he hadn’t broken the connection you two had.

“My precious fucking girl. Am I making you feel good? Do you feel close to me?” he grunts, his grip tightening, “Can you tell how much I love you?”

You whine in response and nod. Your body heats up as he continues to slide in and out. He stretches you out just the way you like, fills you up so perfectly. He hits every sweet spot inside of you to make you forget he was even capable of saying such mean things sometimes.

You reach your arms up and pull his head down to rest against your neck. Your eyes were still full of your tears from earlier and a few slip out because of the strong difference between the euphoria of right now compared to the despair of the last hour.

One of your thighs drops back on the couch as the hand that was holding it comes up to your hair. He laces his fingers through the strands and begins pressing messy kisses to the side of your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he whispers against your skin, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

His hips continue their movements, his pelvis connecting with the skin of your ass over and over. He nuzzles your neck. You can hear his mix of harsh pants and soft groans right next to your ear. You cling to him as the heat inside you rises.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. Wanna make sure you’re getting everything you deserve,” he says.

“Feels perfect,” you whimper after a string of moans, “I- I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Me too, doll,” he says. His hips piston into you harder. Your hands dig into the muscles of his back while your toes curl

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leon,” you choke out as a cry leaves you.

“Mhm, good baby. I want you to cum for me, honey. I want you to feel so fucking good. Let it all go,” he says. 

His hand slides from his hair to your face and brushes away some of your tears. He kisses your cheek softly as you fall over the edge into bliss. Your body convulses underneath him as you release. You moan and writhe and the whole time he strokes your hair, cooing at you “my pretty girl” and “so so good for me.”

You were so tight around him. The sight of your eyes squeezing shut and your lips parting in ecstasy was too much for him. He thrusts into you a few more times before a moan rumbles through his chest and out of his mouth. He slams deep inside of you to spill himself. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your insides.

You were shaky and trembling as he pulled out and planted a kiss on your forehead. He sits back on the couch, pushing the hair out of his face before pulling you up and close to him. He positions you on his lap and holds you to his chest.

He starts rubbing your back again and kissing your hairline. “Love you, babydoll. So so fucking much,” he whispers.

Your eyes close as you return the embrace and melt into his lap. You nuzzle and kiss his chest, relaxing into the affection.

“There’s my girl. All mine,” he coos.

You nod, enjoying the nice moment and letting yourself pretend that this whole cycle wouldn’t repeat in a few days time.

[janluxe]

VDAY ACTIVITIES – JASON TODD

– word count; 1.3k

– contents; fluff, angst(?) & mentions of violence but nothing too graphic.

– summary; the day's activities don't go as planned when Riddler holds you hostage.

– a/n; This was rushed. there might be mistakes, and I will most definitely update it asap. Happy Valentine's Day everyone, taken or not all that matters is that you're satisfied with being with yourself first, so give love that person you see in the mirror before you expect anyone to do so. have a nice day ♡

Jason was never big on the holidays. In his eyes, such occasions were simply another way for companies to earn more money in a short time span, plus they never held much meaning to him. Until he met you. A big part of him felt inclined, not pressured, in trying to follow the rules each tradition set – or at least he tried to. If that was what would bring a smile to your face, he was willing to put in the effort.

Hence why he was putting his vigilante identity on the side for the day and found himself among civilians instead, surrounded by an ocean – the term sea would be an understatement of what his poor eyes had to endure – of red products.

Using a day as an excuse for one's ignorance of their partner's need for affection and attention with buying gifts was one more society thing he couldn't, and had no intention to, understand.

His gaze wandered, hoping he'd find something suitable. An idea popped into his mind the second he set eyes on a heart-shaped box and immediately knew what he had to do.

The trip to a local flower shop made this whole shopping spree feel like a personal Odyssey, but just like the epic poem; in the end, everything was worth the suffering. The harsh red of the roses balanced out with the softness and pure white of the lilies better than he could've imagined, almost looking like a crime scene so elegantly executed on ground in which the earth was hiding under a veil.

His hands worked effortlessly since he had already pictured everything already set up, each little detail serving its purpose. Jason was the kind of person who would prefer expressing his affection privately, through small acts such as this when he wasn't clinging by your side.

There was a faint feeling of pride cursing right through him while he spared a moment to admire his work; the dining area tidied up, the table perfectly looking with the bouquet and petals resting on the soft surface of the tablecloth – he even considered lighting a few candles to set the mood, like they do in the movies, but he settled on the city lights that were brightening the room from the big window next to the TV.

However, as the saying goes, ‘good things don't last forever’ – Jason's soft breathing was interrupted abruptly by his phone ringing, his shoulders slumped as he practically dragged his feet all the way over to pick up. An unknown number, how lovely. Maybe it was just a grandma who messed up the number. He seriously didn't need to worry over this.

Before he could properly greet or ask who dared disturb him, a familiar voice broke through the other side of the line. “Riddle me this, Red Hood,” Definitely not a wholesome grandma, dammit, plan A aka try-not-to-worry just crumbled to the floor. A small grunt escaped the back of Jason's throat, pressing his tongue against the softness of his cheek and then clicking it. “A ticking clock, a burning fuse. One wrong move, and you will lose. Its final toll a deadly chime. Solve me fast or say goodbye. What am I?” Riddler continued, his voice doing what it does best at pissing Jason off.

Throwing out empty threats during dangerous situations wasn't one of Jason's characteristics. And with that in mind, who would be surprised that he was already out the door; armor and equipment waiting for him in the car – he didn't need any more bullshit Riddler would give him, he'd figure out your location in half the amount of time.

It was no secret to anyone how many sadistic tendencies Nygma had alongside the most inconvenient timing of all time. You were completely isolated in a room filled with bright green clues on the walls that surrounded you, clues that made no sense whatsoever, especially when you felt the space closing in on you. The timer bomb he had locked around your wrists was not much help either. Your skin burned an angry red and grew heavier and heavier the more time went by.

Despite your body's protests, you didn't put an end to your attempt to get out of this God awful place. Dizziness eventually caught up to you as you felt a familiar warmth trickle down your face – filling your eyebrow with a reddish color that matched the scheme of the occasion.

On the other side, the Riddler watched – he always did. His taunts echoed in your ears. Even the static didn't stand in his way to humiliate other people for not being as bright as he was. But, he was no star. He was a mere match, burning up faster than he was aware of.

Was Jason's newfound impatience mentioned in this story?

The lock of the door was shot off. The sound bounced off the walls, startling the guilty and giving a sense of hope to the innocent. And if that wasn't good enough for a dramatic entrance by a former theater kid, he had the best ideas for ending a play. The place remained dead silent, with the only interruption being the ticking of the time bomb when Jason threw a bag at him, soaked and filled with the heads of those who tried to stop him. He had done Riddler a favor, making sure that this narcissistic bastard got his hands dirty by the blood of his thugs.

Jason Todd wasn't Batman. Mercy was never his cup of tea, and it wasn't tolerable when it came to his loved ones.

Many often seem to forget that part, but the Red Hood will remind them. He never took off without leaving a mark behind. In this case, it was a bullet to Nygma's leg – a gift as he would call it, for he spent a bullet on a lowlife.

“How badly are you injured, love?” The pitch in Jason's voice reminded you of how much worry he had within him throughout the whole process. From his point of view, the possibility of losing you was a valid reason for him to never forgive himself. Without waiting another second for you to mutter a response or some pathetic excuse, he slipped his hand under your shirt, gently running his fingers over your skin – mindful over his touches and small taps, not wanting to stir any overwhelming sensations in you.

Jason allowed a soft sigh to escape hum, his shoulders relaxing the moment he had ensured you hadn't endured any physical pain. His eyes fluttered shut, letting himself bask the bittersweet moment of not being there on time and of ensuring your safety at last.

“I'm sorry, love.” Not allowing you to tire yourself out as he kept talking, his voice barely above a whisper while he buried his face into your shoulder and found some comfort in the scent he was very accustomed to.

Even with the corner of your eye you could spot the preparations he had made in your shared apartment; bright heart-shaped balloons decorated the usual darkness of the kitchen, the table was already set for two and he had already cooked your favorite but it had gone cold by now. The small movement of your head caught his attention, and almost immediately, he knew what you were looking at as well as the kind of thoughts that were going through your mind.

“I'll make Valentine's day up to you, I promise.” Jason muttered and gently tightened his embrace around you, protecting you from anything unexpected even for this passing moment.

[thewertsearch]

Not even a Green Sun weapon can put a dent in Jack. The Streetsweeper is probably closer in strength to a Uranium Imp - undeniably powerful, but still a far cry from true divinity.

EB: karkat! […] EB: why are you snooping around her computer! CG: BECAUSE CG: WOW OK CG: SO LET ME ASK. CG: DID YOU BOTH ACTUALLY LIKE EACH OTHER. […] CG: LIKE I MEAN SOMETHING VAGUELY RESEMBLING ACTUAL GENUINE MUTUAL SENTIMENT OR WHATEVER, NOT SOME LOPSIDED PINING BULLSHIT. EB: what are you talking about? CG: DID YOU LIKE HER, YOU WINDSOCK HEADED SHITMOUTH.

You’ve wormed your way out of similar questions before, but that’s not an option this time.

Come on, John. The shippers need to know.

EB: well… EB: yeah. why?

Huh.

Well, there you go, I guess. I honestly thought it was more likely that John just wanted to be friends with her - but no, there really was a spark of romance there. We'll never know how it would have ended, because it didn't have a chance to get started, but there could have been something between the two.

CG: THAT'S FINE CG: THEN CG: WE'LL TALK ABOUT IT LATER. EB: talk about what? CG: I NEED YOU TO BE ABLE TO THINK STRAIGHT.

I think it’s very clear what Karkat’s implying here.

John's not stupid, but he is more than willing to shove uncomfortable truths into the vault. He's already repressed his Dad's death, and will undoubtedly do the same with Vriska's.

Fucking hell, Doc!

I guess when he snaps, he snaps hard. Did losing the clock really piss him off this much, or is even this part of his grand plan?

Heh. Dave knows what’s up.

Yeah, this looks pretty bad – but when you think about it, Jade’s not in any actual danger here. Jack won’t harm her, and his reaction speed is far too fast for him to do so accidentally. It's a good play, and not one I'd thought of myself.

[oceantornadoo]

missed you. (simon riley x f!reader)

part 7 of the two lieutenants series (can be read as standalone)

—

“lieutenant.”

“lieutenant.”

simon’s eyes bore into you, scanning you up and down for injuries, then settling on your face. you did the same, clocking the way he was favoring one hip instead of standing all the way straight in proper formation. hi, you mouthed, eyes shining. he still had the mask on but you could see his lips move underneath, some endearment you couldn’t make out.

“well captain, you’ve got a good lieutenant on your hands. sad to see her go after two months of hard work. there’s always an open lieutenant spot on our team, or a chance for captain if she works hard enough.” you took the words of your temporary captain as a dismissal, crossing over the heli pad to stand at simon’s side. if anyone were to look close, really peer in, they’d see your shoulders touching, fabric against fabric. you were extremely experienced at standing close without looking like it, an optical illusion of body language, both stances facing forward. price and the temp captain exchanged more pleasantries but you could feel yourself getting impatient, lightning coursing through your veins at simon’s proximity.

simon riley considered himself a patient man, but in your presence, he considered himself to have the emotional range of a toddler. pure emotion, fighting back a retort when price mentioned a two hour full debrief. he barely held himself back when you turned to head inside, walking slow so you could bump into him, your lovely ass brushing his cock. simon’s hand went to your waist on instinct, fingers brushing the familiar valleys of your body. he had to restrain himself from punching johnny when he slapped a hand on his shoulder, spewing bullshit about ghost being an old man and can’t see where he’s going.

the debrief is torture. the tip of your boot brushes simon’s and you blissfully stay like that until it’s your time to get up and present. which, of course, takes an hour because of gaz and his irritatingly thorough questions couple with price and his detailed monologues. even soap’s joined, asking about the resources of your temporary team and sniper skills. the itch under your skin has become fire, this torturous proximity to simon heating you up from the inside out. finally, you finish in a blur, almost missing price’s low “dismissed.” you say something about missing your base bed and practically run out of the room. you leave so fast you don’t notice price holding simon back, “just one quick thing, lieutenant.”

without ghostly footsteps behind you, you navigate to the room you’ve been away from the last two months. it’s not dusty or musty and you almost blame fairies before smelling simon’s cologne in the air. it makes you giddy thinking of him freshening up your room, watering your windowsill plants and fluffing up your bed. the dirty laundry you accidentally left is all clean, tucked into your drawers with military precision. the gall of this man to touch your underwear. you decide to freshen up and change into sweats as you wait for him.

it’s been thirty minutes and you’re going a bit insane. ten was fine, twenty was okay, but thirty is pushing it. what does price have to talk about that is so important?! your skin is fresh and your clothes are comfy, but the anxiety has worsened, turning your palms clammy. what if he’s changed his mind? decided he couldn’t wait? just a friendly “hi” as to not let you down? the swirl of emotions is too much for you to take, forcing you to lay down just to ground yourself. it hits you all at once: the jet lag, long flight, the loneliness of the past two months. it’s heavy and too much for you to bare, losing yourself to a conflicted sleep…

when you wake up, he’s there. sitting on the edge of your bed, one hand wrapped around your bare ankle like a chain. he’s contemplating something, staring at some spot above your head. sleep is still in your eyes, sight bleary and unfocused. you know it’s him by touch alone, no need for other senses. “simon?” you whisper into the dark. “hi, baby. good sleep?” you launch yourself into his lap, the force of you like a tackle. he acquiesces to your attack, taking you with him as you try to hold him as much as you can.

he thinks you’re crying. simon settled you in his lap, your arms around his thick neck and your legs wrapped around his waist, feet tucked between the back and the bed. he can breathe, that two month weight finally lifting from his chest. “missed you so much.” you barely eek it out, his neck muffling your voice. “missed you more than words can say, love.” you think you’re crying, face getting wetter and wetter as you burrow into his neck. he thinks he’s crying too, tucking his face into your hair and taking a sniff. he’s properly messing it up but he doesn’t care - he’s been chasing the scent of your shampoo for weeks. you both stay there for a while, taking in each other’s presence. it feels like home, like a warm bath and an even warmer bed. like hiding from the whole world under a thick blanket with only the person you love by your side. “you took so long to see me, simon. i thought - thought you changed your mind about me.”

simon couldn’t believe how blind you were sometimes. did you not see the blush he’d been hiding under the mask during the whole debrief? how soap kept shooting him questioning looks, noting the tension between his l.t.’s soldiers. “was clearin’ up some shit with price. ‘s all good now.” you hummed in thought. “so we’re all good?” he drew back a little, enough to kiss your forehead. your weight was still on top of him, grounding him to reality. “actually, i have somethin’ t’ ask you.” he sat up a little, settling you in his lap so you could look at him eye to eye. the sudden seriousness in his tone made you worry, thighs squeezing against simon’s. “is it about the bulge in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” he usually laughed at your godawful jokes but today, he just looked somewhere past your ear, focusing on the photo of you two on your desk. it had been taken a bit after you’d made it official, your arms around his waist and your smile bright enough to blind a man. “si?” you poked his stomach to get him to look back at you. “didn’t like being away from you, baby.” you frowned at his tone. “was talking to price about how to make it not happen again. t” help me follow you wherever you land.” this insanely sweet man, who was still putting your wants above his own. he knew you wanted to be captain one day, knew you’d never betray price, and knew he’d follow you to the ends of the earth.

“so i got you this.” you gasped, hands flying to your mouth in shock. the bulge was not in fact his boner but a ring box containing your dream ring hidden in your pinterest boards from years ago. you couldn’t even question how he found that exact one, how he tracked down an archived post from an archived board. “simon?” he tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “marry me. let me be your husband. i’d follow you anywhere, love.” you were nodding through the tears, already reaching for the ring. “yes. yes, simon.” he slipped it on to your fingers, calloused hands holding your own. it looked unimaginably perfect on you, catching the light exactly how you wanted. you both were crying again, small tears of joy trailing down your faces. “let me make you happy, yeah?” you nodded into his shoulder. “yeah, baby. let’s make each other happy.”

[sysakiddo]

Max is the youngest Dutch chef with three michelin stars and is seen as the world’s best cook by most of the relevant people. Buuut the word gets out that he doesn’t treat his cooks very nicely and then one time, someone he had fired said Max got physical in several instances. Max thinks it’s all bullshit and doesn’t listen to the buzz, he wants his food to speak for him. So what if he raises his voice sometimes? They are not in kindergarten, for fuck’s sake. 

The restaurant’s marketing team is not thrilled. They make a plan to salvage his reputation. Basically, they make him be the judge for one of those Masterchef VIP things, where he needs to comment on horrible food made by some celebrities who are usually too dumb to read the script. He says he will do one season, unfiltered, and then never walk out of his restaurant ever again. He doesn’t care about his reputation in the tabloids, he only cares about his stars. 

Daniel just won his third WDC. He’s also there. Cooking. His marketing teams think this is a beautiful opportunity to milk the American market. And Daniel is like, you want me to cook now? Okay. He is on top of the world, he doesn’t give a shit. 

His opinion changes drastically during the first challenge.

They are supposed to make a food they would cook for a friend. To balance Max out, the other judge is Charles. With one Michelin star. Max tries not to make himself look too smug about it. 

“So, what is this pasta situation?” Charles asks Daniel, who is currently failing to drain the pasta water without getting rid of half the pasta down the drain. 

“Um, I’m making pasta and chicken,” Daniel smiles and points at the charred chicken breast served on the table. He puts a bit of pasta next to it unceremoniously, “There it is! I’m done.”

Max narrows his eyes. “With sixty minutes on the clock, you are done after twenty?” he asks. 

Daniel giggles, “Yeah, I drive fast cars for a living.” 

“Your girlfriend must not be thrilled about your performance.”

Daniel laughs nervously. Max doesn’t join him. Charles bites his lip so as not to snort out, and points at the selection of spices Daniel hasn’t touched once during the cooking. 

“Maybe you could play with the seasoning now,” he says to soften the blow that came from his co-judge. Max moves on to another contestant without saying anything else. 

When Daniel brings them his final dish, Charles says, “It’s bland,” while Max looks him straight into eyes and says, “The chicken is so overcooked I feel like it had been killed years before I was born.” 

Daniel’s palms are sweaty, his jaw keeps ticking. He still laughs, loud, too fake. He sees Max visibly cringe. Even worse, the judges pick the contestants into their teams after that. Max picks him into his blue team as the second-to-last. 

They finish rolling and Daniel practically runs to the changing rooms, speed dialling the head of his marketing team.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake. 

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it. 

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours. 

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs. 

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms. 

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands. 

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”  

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly. 

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours. 

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly. 

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado. 

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race. 

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt. 

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head. 

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see. 

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you. 

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear. 

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly. 

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset. 

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race. 

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track. 

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles. 

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff? 

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there. 

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears. 

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum. 

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him. 

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow. 

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers. 

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side. 

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away. 

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed. 

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

[sideeve]

SUGAR | with 42!miles morales

— the big question , “do you love me?” pops up.

listen to “sugar” by brockhampton , she fell first but he fell harder type shit , fluff IF YOU ARE OLDER THAN 17 , GO AWAY ! MILES IS A MINOR ! !

3 am flashed on miles’ phone. no missed calls or messages from you. he was hoping you didn’t forget about him.

it was an unwritten rule between the two of you.

“don’t go to sleep without saying goodnight”

and you broke it.

he sighed, throwing his phone back on his bed, pulling a pillow over his face to scream in. sometimes he’d look at himself wondering how he could fold so fast for you.

like you have the most dangerous villain in brooklyn at your feet. and you don’t even know it.

his phone rings. he had never picked it up so quickly, smiling when he saw that it was you.

mi vida : sorry, i was caught up doing something.

morales : it’s fine. i was starting to get worried ngl💀

mi vida : well, gn miles :)

morales : gn ma

delivered

you had already clocked out. a lopsided frown covers his face. he wish the conversation wasn’t that short. he still wanted to stay up, texting you about some bullshit.

he stood at your front door with a gift basket and a teddy bear. he knew you couldn’t say no. once the door opened, a wave of nervousness washed over him.

“miles, what’s the occasion?” you gesture to the things he’s holding. “can i come in?” you nod, stepping aside.

he lets out a breath, taking your hands in his. “[ name ], i’ve liked you for a long time now. not even a like anymore. i love you.”

his word stun you. “do you love me? it’s okay if you don’t. we can—” “miles, shut up.” you laugh. “of course i like you.”

he smiles, “of course you did, who wouldn’t?” his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“so what do couples do?”

[woniefication]

Just cool, don't panic, darling Sim Jake.

✦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦́𝘳𝘪//𝘞𝘤:550~//𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦:𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵,𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧// 𝘞; 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺,𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨//𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳//𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥!// 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!//我的寶//✦

A/N: One that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit too long TwT

Perm taglist: @orimuraa @douqhnxtss @hoonsita @liwinly @leaderwon @sugarikiz

The abusive relationship you were in with your boyfriend was too much to handle. He would verbally and physically abuse you. When it got to intense you went to your best friend Jakes house.

Today was no exception.

The man who was supposedly your boyfriend was drunkenly screaming in your face and grabbing you. All because you forgot to tell him where you were and came back at ten PM. You were out to get him his birthday gift yet you lost track of time. But he didn’t know that did he?

“ You were with Jake weren’t you huh?! Are you fucking cheating on me?!”

His hot alcohol-laced breath hit your tear streaked face. Suddenly he raised his hand but before his hand could make contact with your face he held back.

“Just go, just fucking go.” He said,out of breath while pointing to your shared room.

The shopping had worn you out so you knew it’d be better if you just obeyed. Slowly you walked to the room, you heard him mutter something but it was too incoherent to hear. It wouldn’t be anything good anyways.

3 AM. The clock hit three AM and you suddenly got pulled out of your dream. Besides you was nobody you just assumed your boyfriend went to a friends house.

Suddenly something flicked in your brain. You had to get out of here,fast. With a swift motion you quickly stood up walking to the closet changing into something warm. With nothing but your wallet and phone you stepped out of the apartment complex.

You knew exactly where you wanted to go; Jake. You hoped god would forgive you for just leaving your boyfriend but it was for the best.

Jakes house was only a ten minute walk away. It was one of the only things you liked in this city. Standing infront of Jakes front door you knocked with a heavy sigh hoping that he was still awake.

Suddenly you saw a smiling Jake standing infront of you pulling you into a tight embrace. Oh the sense of comfort you felt was unexplainable you melted in his arms.

For a few minutes neither of you said anything just basking in the warmth you provided eachother. Finally you decided to break the silence.

"I´m sorry for coming over so unannounced." you mentioned in a hushed tone.

Jake shook his head. "dont mention it its completely fine. What did he do this time?"

"The same bullshit gosh I just want someone to love me." you responded.

Suddenly Jake pressed his soft lips against yours picking you up and putting you on his lap on the couch. He pulled away and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

In that moment a wave of guilt washed over you. What were you doing and why were you enjoying this so much?

"Jake no this isnt right.." you told him in a worried tone.

"I know that you love him babe I get it darling, yeah I aint gonna tell him babe I get it darling. You got a situation just stop sweating darling". Jake said while wiping a few drops of sweat off your forehead with the back of his hand.

That moment was it. You knew that being with jake was the way to happiness and not being with some controlling douchebag. This was your home now,with Jake.

"Just cool dont panic darling".

His smooth voice said with a slight chuckle looking into your eyes lovingly.

@woniefication 2025. Masterlist.

[biancadoes1]

So when either one of them likes eo's pics fast, it is because they are together, but when Nic does not like his '24 dump, it is because they are together? And when that one lukola shipper does not agree with you and calls out the discrepency in your opinion, she fast becomes an anti in lukola clothing?

The fuck are you talking about?

Listen - she made comments on other people's posts earlier in the day making it clear she was not going to be with Jake, Dylan or their friends at her (old) place. She told them to have a fun night.

We clearly see she's not there when Dylan starts posting.

Nicola shared a pic of her own obviously and people clocked that she truly wasn't at her place in that picture.

Luke uploads his '24 dump - he's clearly not in the Maldives. Nicola is clearly not with Jake and co.

You don't need to like someone's post when they're sitting next to you uploading them. She's making a very big point that she's NOT liking his pictures because he's RIGHT NEXT TO HER.

And what's with this anti bullshit? Y'all need thicker skin if you're gonna be on the internet and in a fandom space no less. Don't try and make it seem like I can't handle other people's opinions.

This blog is called My Aggressive Opinions for a reason.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Putt Slut? - Rafe Cameron Daydreams ☁️

+18 Minor DNI

Rafe x GolferGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

🪄 language and mentions of smut

650

You two haven’t seen each other long, but when you show up to the course with a bag of Callaway REVAs, he can’t help but get a little rattled, especially when he’s used to his girls play caddie, if that. He watches you smooth out your Vouri dress, slipping on your glove and Callaway hat before pulling your pony through the back. His eyes double, as you lean down to tie your shoes, catching a glimpse of your dress’s built-in shorts where he would typically see lace, mesh, or pussy.

“I didn’t know you were a golfer, princess,” his voice wavers.

To which you smile and nod. “You didn’t? Yeah. Since I was six.” He swallows hard as the stakes are quickly raised.

Suddenly, Rafe Cameron is nervous.

How would he impress you now? What if you won?

You came out of the front nine in the lead with Rafe at his wits end. He had no patience; his short game was a mess, too focused on what you would do next, which always seemed to be the right move. Not to mention you looked so good doing it, your focus locked on the game. Rafe found himself in a strange position where he was now fighting for your eye.

Halfway through the back nine, he found himself at a crossroads. There was no way he would win: play fair and lose to his girl or play dirty and knock you down a little… It started simply by disturbing your backswing or during a putt, a cough, or a sneeze. Normal enough. When that didn’t work, he switched to praise. The type of praise that would make you feel nervous about the next shot. But you didn’t falter.

There was only one tactic that remained. The one that could always throw him off his game. Rafe unbuttoned the top button of his crisp white polo, fingers curling around the leather steering wheel to let his biceps flex. Every movement was a little closer than before: your position on the golf cart, where he stood on the green, how long he’d linger for a kiss. He was talking sweeter too, his low tone deep and raspy as he leaned into your ear, holding your hips from behind as you took a few practice strokes.

“You look so pretty, baby.”

“Fuck, my girl’s so good at this.”

“Wanna take a break. Hmm? I know a spot, honey. Wanna make you feel good.”

“Need you so bad.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

PLOP.

Your ProV1 golf ball plunges into the depths of the murky pond as a sinister smile spread on Rafe’s lips. Your eyes narrow on his baby blues, catching him in the act, clocking his excitement as you put two and two together. The rest of the round plays out like the PGA tournament because, unlucky for Rafe, you didn’t like to lose either.

“Wanna just call it, baby doll?” Rafe asks knowing his game was unrecoverable, but if it wasn’t in writing, did it actually count? You shake your head ‘no’, tapping your little pencil at the card.

“One left, baby boy.” Rafe smirks and shakes his head. “A bet?”

“You’re already gonna win, baby,” he groans.

“Just this hole, Rafe. Winner gets whatever they want in the clubhouse.”

“Alright. Alright. Deal,” he agrees.

To no surprise, you close out the hole with a win. To which Rafe genuinely accepts defeat. The two of you walk up to the clubhouse hand-in-hand, Rafe still waiting for you to call him out on his bullshit from before but you don’t. He leads you toward the pro shop as he fishes for his Black Card but you pull him away fast, disappearing into the locker room with him instead, kissing your way into a bathroom stall. He lets out a devilish laugh as you undo his belt with a smile.

“Well shit, baby. What are we doin’ in here?” He whispers against your lips.

“Getting what I want.”

[stargazinglesbian]

Your Jason Todd hcs,hand 'em over

ok ok *putting my hands up in the air* i yield /j

jason is a v interesting character for me, and also one i don't really have a full interpretation on, because ive never read a comic for the sole purpose of reading abt him. it's always been incidental when im reading about like damian or cass, so i haven't had time to get super into him. regardless here r my headcanons so far!! :33

He prefers to go to movie theatres alone rather than with other people, and always gets really annoyed whenever someone forgets to silence their phone or is talking too loudly. Jason takes the Cinema Experience very seriously

(also sneaks food in because he thinks the prices in movie theatres are bullshit)

has a habit of just kind of nudging stuff around unconsciously. like he fiddles with things all the time. picks up a key or a little figurine in one room and puts it down in another without realising. it always annoys people because their decor is ever so subtly Off but he can't stop himself

left handed. i will not elaborate

i like the idea of uncanny valley jason, but honestly i think it's more fun if only jason thinks he has the 'uncanny valley' look. like to everyone else he's just A Guy but he feels like he looks weird and different ever since he was resurrected. basically just body dysmorphia

asexual. i will not elaborate

terrible internal clock. shows up for things incredibly late or incredibly early. cannot give an accurate eta to save his life. thinks its been like an hour but it's been 40 minutes

prefers mechanical pencils to pens and regular pencils, and he's always carrying around at least one of those little led containers yk the ones

when he was robin he was used to cutting his own hair and the first time alfred took him to like a barber he hated what they did to it so much he tried to 'fix' it later that night. he wore hoodies and hats for three weeks straight.

this one is mostly just me projecting but he eats things in very specific orders. like he eats all the green m&ms first, then the brown ones, then the red, etc, etc. he hates when other people just take his food without asking because it messes up his system. if you want some of his food you jsut have to accept that he needs to be the one to carefully pick and choose what you get out of the bag.

talks wayyy too fast when he's pissed off

that's all of em i have for now !! thank you for the ask as always, i love seeing u in my inbox its wonderful !!! <333

when i write headcanons theyre always very small and stupid lil things, like habits or tiny preferences or stuff like that

[midnight-fables]

Entry 28: Blatant Thuggery

Screenshot by: @neverscreens

Bearblr Promptober Day 28: Sick Day

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) is sick and he is in worried caretaker mode.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, illness, mentions of vomit, mention of Donna Berzatto, anger at God, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, feat. Syd (1142 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for weeks.

28 Oct 2024

Darling never calls me close to or during service hours, so when my phone went off halfway through dinner, my immediate thought was that she was in a car accident or something.

Call it residual fear from a lifetime of being conditioned to suspect my alcoholic mother was going to evade lady luck next time and careen into an innocent person, annihilate an unsuspecting future because she couldn’t see hers beyond the bottom of a bottle, that God, if he fucking existed, was finally going to do the thing that I was told he’d do and punish her for all her fucking shortcomings because he gave her enough rope to hang her entire family. Just about every call out of nowhere, I could almost hear metal and plastic crunching, glass shattering, tires screeching. It was always a car accident in my head.

Turns out she’d come down with something—stomach flu, actual flu, she didn’t know yet, but she had a fever and spent 10 minutes puking her guts out. She needed to get back home because she couldn’t operate, and driving wasn’t an option right now, either. We were in the middle of a brutal dinner rush because diners were turning over tables fast, about 10 minutes faster than usual—which doesn’t seem like much until it compounds across 15 tables in the whole house, and now you’re up to your eyeballs in tickets and your internal clock is off the giant numbers on the wall by 25 fucking minutes and you can’t figure out how you’re only halfway through the night, it feels like it’s been a thousand years.

“If it’s busy, don’t leave in the middle of it; I’ll just wait in the bathroom until things calm down, Carm. I already got meds.”

The fuck do you mean, you’ll just wait in the bathroom, on some cold, hard, disgusting floor like some fucking animal?

Syd glanced at me from expo with wide eyes for a fraction of a second, all she could spare as her hand flew across the tickets and she kept calling orders. She was drowning. And sure, she’s the one who wanted the bullshit star, and she didn’t know at the time what it would take, and at this point, she probably should’ve figured out that this fucking job will fucking kill her, but could I leave her to drown out there?

Darling’s coughing rattling my phone’s earpiece yanked my attention back to her. I peeled myself off the door of the walk-in. Pinched the bridge of my nose. “I-I can come get you.”

“Is it busy right now?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s—I’ll head over right n—”

“Carmy, if it’s busy, please, stay there until it’s no—”

It got too hot. It was boiling. She called me, and now she wouldn’t let me help. “You’re sick!”

“I’m a doctor at a hospital, Carmen.”

It’s funny how she never raises her voice, even if mine gets away from me.

Syd. “Chef! Help on expo, please!”

“Stay there, sweetheart. Pick me up later. I will be fine, promise.”

I’ll be honest, I was pissed at Darling for the rest of service, which remained at that break-neck pace until the last dish left. I didn’t even stick around to hear Syd thank me for stepping back into expo; I was tearing off my chef whites like they were burning my skin the instant the kitchen door swung closed behind the last plate that walked. I couldn’t stop picturing what kind of miserable state Darling must’ve been in, curled up on a bathroom floor, horrid fluorescent lighting giving her a headache, knees to her chest, hair a mess, pale. Halfway to a ghost. Devoid of her brightness, her airiness, her life. I needed to fix it. I needed to resolve the problem. I needed her to feel better, and right now, or that tightening, sinking feeling in my stomach was going to turn into a fucking panic attack.

My anger had dissipated by the time I got to the hospital. The exhaustion from service had set in. I was just relieved to see her walk out of her own volition.

She was doing okay for the most part when I managed to get her home. A bit pale, sure, maybe also looked tired, but not more than she did after a long day at work. Her headache was pretty bad; couldn’t even tolerate the far living room lamp being on and wanted to be horizontal and in the dark. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in my arms and pepper her forehead with kisses, but she insisted that she could be contagious, so she was going to sleep on the couch and stay out of the bedroom.

I tried arguing against it, trust me.

I thought I was the most stubborn person I know.

Anyway, she was doing okay. I couldn’t really sleep; I kept waking up every hour to check on her, and thank fuck I did because at about 2 am, she spiked a sky-high fever. She was still asleep, I didn’t want to disturb her, and she’d taken Tylenol when I checked on her at 1 am, so the best I could do was perch on the coffee table with a bowl of water and washcloths to try cooling her down.

“Hey, baby girl,” I mumbled, rubbing her arm to alert her of my presence. “You’re burning up. I’m going to put a damp washcloth on your forehead, okay?”

It agonized me when all she could do was make a little noise. She didn’t even have the energy to talk. I swallowed down the knot that cinched my throat, threatened to cut off my air. Placed the cloth across her forehead, smoothed her hair back. I’m not really much of a praying person. God and I don’t talk, we’ve agreed to disagree. And Darling being sick felt like another slight by the big man, a power play, blatant fucking thuggery, something akin to a shitty boss overloading you with even more useless fucking work so they can turn around and go “see, you didn’t have it quite so bad after all, did you?” So they can demand your adoration when they remove the shackles they put on you to begin with. I was fucking mad about Darling being sick, yeah, because why did it have to be her? Why did she have to feel too terrible to speak? This is not how this is supposed to work, you fuck, she did nothing to anyone. I’m the animal. I’m the monster. I’m the one who earned the hurt I feel.

Have mercy on her.

There. You finally fucking got one from me.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m not dead I promise. Nor am I done with x reader stuff. Finally, Mello gets his day in the limelight. Good for him.

Scarring

“That translation is wrong.”

“Thank you.” You did not look up from your notebook. “You know, it sure would suck if I went a minute without knowing that I’m bad at this.”

He took a sip from his milkshake, his weight leaned against the counter. “Get better, then.” He pointed at the page you were on, gesturing to the words. “The girl isn’t greedy; she doesn’t get to have a masculine adjective.”

You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Jesus fucking— that’s the only noun in the sentence!”

Another sip. “If there isn’t another noun,” he explained slowly, not bothering to hide his condescension, “you assume there’s an invisible ‘vir’ there.”

“Why is it invisible? For whose benefit?”

“The author’s, mainly.”

You rubbed your eyes, pushing your hair out of your face. “This is bullshit,” you decided. “This whole thing is moronic.”

“Serves you right for learning a dead language.”

“Eat my dick.”

He snickered. “I’ll get right on it.” He looked around the diner for the fifth time, a frown settling on his face. “He’s late.”

You took a sip from your drink. “Serves you right for being a stalker.”

“It’s called espionage.”

“A rose by any other name smells just as stalkery.” You smirked. “Serves you right for agreeing to it in the first place— what if he doesn’t show up? What’s your plan then, genius?”

“Shut up.” He leaned his cheek against his hand. “He’ll be here.”

“Sure, sure.” You closed your notebook. “I give up. Three hours of torture is enough, I think.”

He stirred his milkshake, pulling the straw out of the cup and stabbing the bottom of it. “You won’t get a degree if you flunk out.”

“I don’t need Latin to graduate.” You took another sip from your drink. “I don’t need Latin as a general— how come you don’t know how to cook soup but you know Latin?”

He considered the question. “I wanted to prove that I could learn it.” Another stab.

You sneered. “Then I suppose your rival knows some Latin too, then.”

Another glare.

“If you want me to stop knowing what you’re going to say, stop being so predictable.” You tried to will away your simper with little success. “You can’t blame me for having basic pattern recognition.”

He looked back at his milkshake, took another sip. “I was better at it than him,” he grumbled. “He was always shit at languages.”

You giggled. “I’m sure he was.” Your gaze fell upon the clock behind the counter, your expression souring. “We’ve been here for an hour,” you pointed out. “How long—“

“His arrival time has a two hour margin.” He picked up the glass, scraping the excess shake off the sides. “If Holiday-- his horse-- won, he’s going to be here an hour before closing time. If Holiday didn’t win, he’ll be here thirty minutes before closing because he’ll spend more time at the bar. If he gets into an argument at home— which happens once every week or so, especially on Saturdays because they’re supposed to be their date night— he’ll come here first for dinner before leaving to get drinks and will go to a fast food place instead.” He took another sip. “The diner closes in an hour, so if he doesn’t show up in another thirty minutes, we can leave.”

You stared at him, blinking slowly. “I see.” You ran your finger along the edge of your notebook. “And let’s say this guy— who, for the record, you know too much about— doesn’t conform to the schedule that you assigned him; what’s the next step?”

There was something more in his glare this time, a familiar edge. “What if the Moon crashes into Earth before he gets here? What if the floor opens up and we all die?” His eyes darkened, and you were reminded, much to your subconscious’ dismay, who it was that you were dating. “I didn't give up my childhood for nothing,” he said, conviction dripping like tar out of every pore. “I know what I’m doing. He’ll be here.”

You opened your mouth to answer, thought better of it. You focused on your glass.

He blinked, eyes widening as his face softened. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” He laced his fingers together, twiddling his thumbs. “I have— this isn’t—“

“Don’t stress it.” You smiled weakly. “It’s late; we’re tired. I know you— well, that you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

He nodded curtly. “Good. I’m glad.” He reached over, taking your hand and running his thumbs over your knuckles. His hands were shaking. “I’m stressed out is all; there’s a lot riding on this.”

“I know, baby.” You ran your free hand through his hair, bringing it to rest against his cheek. “You’re right; it’ll work out.”

He nodded again, slower this time. “I won’t make you regret what you’ve done for me,” he promised. “This will be good for the both of us.”

You brought his hands to your lips, kissing each. “You don’t need to keep telling me; I know you will.”

“Good.” He glanced at the counter, letting his hands fall to his lap. “I’m glad.”

“Good,” you agreed. “I'm glad you’re glad.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you’re glad I’m—“

The door made a jingle as someone entered the diner. The look on your boyfriend’s face told you who it was.

You were smart enough not to look behind you.

He grabbed his glass, turning his back to the man. “What’d I say?” He looked over at you, pride shining in his eyes. “Good day for Holiday.”

You looked down at your closed notebook, pretending to study it. “I suppose you were right.” You glanced in his direction. “What time can I expect to have you home?”

He considered it. “One at the latest,” he decided. “If I can’t make it home before then, I’ll call you.”

You nodded, slipping your book in your bag. “One it is.” You stood up. “Can I kiss you goodbye?”

He shifted the glass, trying to catch the man’s reflection. “He’s too shifty to risk it.” He glanced up at you. “But I’ll kiss you when I get home.”

Waiting was the worst part of dating Mathew.

The second worst thing was the fact that he wouldn’t tell you his real name (he had offered Mello as a substitute— which the two of you agreed was an objectively silly name— but he claimed Mathew was as close as he could give you, what with the times being what they were). The third was that he got himself into bad situations all the time, but the very worst were these agonizing waits between seeing him after the working day was over and Good Samaritan laws practically stopped being in effect. It could have been worse, you supposed— he could be late and stupid enough to get hurt— but it did not make the wait any less unbearably long. He always came back, and you knew he always would, but it was impossible not to assume the worst at twelve-fifty. Fifty-six, now.

‘This show sucks.’ You turned the television off, letting your eyes fall closed.

A knock at the door.

You shot up from your doze. Quickly, quietly, you slid off the couch onto your knees, groping under it before your hand found a cool, heavy piece of metal. Taking the bat in your hand, you approached the door. Stealing yourself, you glanced through the peephole.

Him.

You exhaled, unlocking the door. He was doubled over, breathing labored, glistening with sweat. You pulled him inside, relocking up as he tried unsuccessfully to compose himself. His eyes were trained on the bat. “You should let me buy you a piece,” he panted. “That’s… fuck… that’s not going to be helpful if…” He swallowed, laughing in exhaustion. You could see now that he had dried blood stuck to the side of his face. “If someone comes here, a bat’s not gonna help. I could’ve shot you through the door.”

You reached out, tilting his head up towards you to get a better look. They were ugly scratches; pale skin outlined angry red and pink flesh. You tried not to ask. “You need to disinfect these,” you mumbled. “You’ll get scars.”

He waved your hand away, standing up straight. “I’ll be fine,” he assured you. “The guy just scratched me is all.”

“Disgusting stuff is under fingernails.” You took his hand, leading him towards your bathroom. “You’ll thank me later.”

Grumbling, he let you drag him along, let you sit him down, let you bring harsh antiseptic to the gashes despite his protest. He watched you, mostly, fiddling with his fingernails while you fussed over him.

Finally, he spoke. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

You crumpled up his bandage’s wrapper. “Asked you what?”

“What I did.” He kept his eyes trained on you like it was an effort. “If I did it.”

You shrugged. “Not my business.” You tossed them out. “Are you complaining that I’m making myself a bad witness?”

“I guess.” He swallowed. “I’m in, I think. If they hold up their end of it.”

You leaned against your sink, facing him. “Do you get paid this time?”

“I should.”

You nodded absently. “Are you okay?”

Finally, he looked away. “Well enough. I—“ He paused, amending his statement. The cool light of the bathroom— you meant to get those changed— casted dark green shadows across his face. “Well, I thought I would be doing different horrible things, but I knew I’d– I mean to say, I’ve about come to terms with my going to hell if there is one, so.” He smiled shakily. “It doesn’t matter much to me which circle, so I’m alright.”

You nodded again.

“I’m sorry for being late.” He looked down at his nails, forcing his hands onto his thighs. “I mean, I know I wasn’t late, but I should have let you know I was taking longer than expected to come home. My phone died, and I didn’t want to be dropped off close to here.”

“You’re alright. I appreciate it, really.” You gave him a once over. “But you’re not coming to bed without a shower. And I’m not washing whoever’s blood that is out.”

He looked down at his shirt, realizing— seemingly for the first time— that he was spattered with blood. “I look like I killed someone,” he noted.

You shrugged. “Nobody here’s going to call the cops on you for having blood on your clothes.”

“Disturbing, but convenient.” He rolled his eyes. “One more failure to add to the list for the justice system.”

“I don’t know if it’s that.” You crossed your ankles. “I mean, yeah, but I think it’s got more to do with people thinking that there shouldn’t be capital punishment for people guilty of the crime of being kinda weird.”

“Being put to death for being strange,” he mused. “How biblical.”

“It’s not that either,” you stressed. “It’s just that the Kira fanboys started leaking police records so it’s a bigger dick move than it usually is to call the cops for stuff.”

He leaned onto his elbows, letting his head fall forward. “Again,” he sighed, “how biblical.”

“Old Testament justice,” you conceded. “I wonder if Kira’s a Christian.”

“It’s not likely.” He looked up at you, dull blonde hair sticking to his face. “He’s Japanese; most Japanese people aren’t Christian.”

“I guess.” He had a lot of theories about Kira. They were usually accurate, but their quantity brought you pause on occasion. “That’s funny. So is it just faith in the police, then?”

“That’s more likely.”

“Someone should shoot him.”

“If you’ll tell me where to aim, I’m more than happy to.”

You looked down at your tile floor. “You'll have to wait in line.”

“I know.” A pause, then, “I wonder how much his body would go for.”

“Whose, Kira’s?”

“Yeah.”

You considered it. “I’m sure loads of people would want his head for one reason or another. He better hope he doesn’t end up in prison; you’d be able to buy him and his stuff piecemail.”

“Like a celebrity.”

“Like a pope.”

“Like a god.”

You hummed. “Enough people deify him already; all he needs is a church.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” You struggled to pinpoint his expression. It was almost sadistic. “What an accomplishment that would be, to be the first person in recorded history to kill a god.”

You let your head fall back. You really hated that light. “You sound like a serial killer.”

“I feel like one.”

“What’s your plan after you catch him?” You looked back down at your boyfriend. He was shivering. “Will the two of you just call a truce?”

He took a deep breath. “Probably not.” He traced one of the tiles with his foot. “If someone as powerful as Kira showed up again, we’d probably fight over who could catch them too. Then another person after that, and another after that. Rinse and repeat until one of us dies.”

“How miserable.”

“Naturally.”

You loved your boyfriend. You loved most things about him. His passion, his drive, his energy— you could see yourself starting a proper life with him. You shared your life with him, anyway, and a part of you believed that one day he would too.

But there was one thing about him you could not stand.

He was ambitious. Too ambitious.

It would get him hurt one day, and you hated that you knew that you would be around to see it.

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ☆

"March 21 1986"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : your heart was heavy and you just wanted to disappear in the world, you stumbled a peculiar old record store and jumped back into 1986

✶࿐ Word Count : help, I'm making a new series again lol

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, use of y/n, time travel, comedy, sci-fic, drama, slight family arguments, slight toxic!household, invalidating mental health, slight misogyny, slight physical abuse, I added a character named "Veronica", reader and Eddie are both (20), reader is very defensive when it comes to Hawkins history, a description of reader wearing "Nirvana" long sleeve, ripped jeans, black classic converse, no mention of reader's race/eye color/hair color, reader lives in 2024, that's about it!

✶࿐ What to Expect : it's all the same characters from "Stranger Things" but I wrote them as if they "exist" in real life, I made them as if they were "historical heroes" in Hawkins!

✶࿐ Note To Reader : this is inspired from my tv shows that I loved, I'll be just getting some of the ideas but I promise this will be good and original! very fast paced and hopefully my writing has some improvements! 💗

✶࿐ Author Note : I just hope that you'll love this another world that I created! I've been wanting to do this for so long, please, don't forget to support me! your simple likes, reblogs and comments will always be highly appreciated! 🥺🫶🏻✨

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

"Y/N, get up"

"But, I don't want to-"

"I said- get up now" your mom's voice is firm as she sighs as she walks out of your room

You groaned on the other side of your bed as you tried to shut your eyes but it seems like you're not so sleepy anymore, so, you begrudgingly sit up from your bed

"Your father is waiting downstairs, I prepared breakfast" she says when she passed by your doorframe again

You scoff at that as you tied your hair back and you stand up and went into the bathroom to wash your face

You don't want to eat with him, all he ever does is to spoil everything with his hot tempered behavior

Eating with your family was fun sometimes but you just can't ignore your dad's attitude

You love him but also the same time you hate him

It's so mentally draining that you wanted him to change, you always rooted for him to change but he never does and it drives you mad that you and you mom has to endure

You saw him as you went down by the stairs, he's now scarfing down eggs and bacon

You manage to restrain an eye roll to his presence as you headed towards at the kitchen to grab a glass and pour yourself a water

"It's a miracle that you get outside of your room" he says as he takes a sip of his coffee

Your mom clocked you and gave you a look that says "don't make a scene" , you squeezed your eyes shut as you take a deep breath and you drink your glass of water

It's literally 7am in the goddamn morning

You decided not to join him over at the table as you prepared your plate with the food that your mom make and you grab your mug for your coffee

You overheard the conversation of your mom and dad as you stirred your coffee the fact that it's still a bit hot but it didn't let you stop by drinking the half of it as you chew down aggressively on eggs and bacon

"She's having a hard time, go easy on her"

"Does she have depression? If she does that's bullshit"

Your ears are ringing and the voices from your parents are blurred out from the feeling that you're having, you're heavily breathing

You take the empty mug and plate as you let it clatter on the sink making their attention snap at you

You looked over to them and your dad as fucking as always looks at you like you've done something wrong

It's always been like that, everytime you tried your best, everytime you won a trophy or had an achievement, it is never enough for him

It is ironic that he's complaining about your condition when he's the cause of it, that's why you have this

You hate that he's always comparing you to other students saying that you're not smart and pretty enough

And your mom was always the one who never fails to make you smile most of the time

What the fuck happened? Back then when you're a kid, you like your father until you realized that's why when in family reunions you always caught those looks like "oh, god, he is going to ruin the party"

Yeah, he's maybe caring and do all of the stuff that a father needs to do, he filled his shoes with that

You just despise his generational trauma qualities

All you wanted was a understanding father, if he only just be like your mom it would be so great

"You're the one who is bullshit" you say as your mom winced and releases a deep sigh as she holds your dad's shoulders

"What a disrespectful child! You have no right to talk to me like that!" He shouts out loud as you went to the stairs to your room as you slam your door

You're still panting as you swallow the lump in your throat as you walk through your closet taking out your "Nirvana" long sleeve, denim ripped jeans and socks for your black converse

You tried to avoid the thoughts running through your head as you still heard the muffled sounds from the voices of your parents downstairs

You take a shower as you let the warm water hits your skin as you open the cap from your shampoo as you massage it through your scalp this somehow soothes you

You pour the body wash on your loofah as you scrubbed your entire body

You wrapped a towel on your hair and your body as you brushed your teeth and mouthwashed

You placed your palms on each side of your sink as you turn off the faucet as you look yourself on the mirror

You know you're not proud of what you're going through, you can't even feel anything, you can't do anything to cheer you up, nothing else makes you feel any better

That's why you always try to distract yourself like lathering a lotion to your body, putting on some minimal makeup and spritz a perfume on your pulse points

You still feel....horrible

You feel like the worst daughter on earth

You put all of your stuff inside of your knapsack as you put it over your shoulder

You click your tongue that you almost forgot your charger for your phone and powerbank as you finally take the leave out of your room

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

You carefully took down the steps as you looked around at the place for your dad

It's just his voice that make your bones jitter

"He left" your mom spoke beside you as she hangs her head slightly low

You saw the red patch on your mom's arm that it looks swollen as she dismissively wave her hand in front of you

Your jaw clenched as she hugs you and place a kiss on your cheek, you sigh in defeat, you know for sure she doesn't want to talk about it

"I'll see you later, Mom" you gave her a small smile as she nods

You looked over at your smart watch and it says 8:30am, you're going to be late because class starts at 9am as you huff in annoyance

You start walking as you begin to fish inside of your pockets and take out your wired earphones as you plug it in your phone

*Mike + The Mechanics - The Living Years starts playing*

You associate this song with your dad, if he only took down his pride and start willingly without judgement ask you about how you feel, you would do it in a heartbeat

A car slowly following you as you heard the non-stop beeping, you take off one of your earphones as you turn around

"Hey! Why are you walking? Hop in!" Veronica shouts as she lifts herself to talk over the car window

You chuckle as you shake your head as you jog over at the passenger's seat

Right, you forgot she'll come over and give you a lift to school

Her smile fades when she sees your lost expression on your eyes as you forced a smile on her

"I'm here" she says and you got taken aback from her side hug as she pats your back

You smile fondly as you pulled back, "Come on, Vee, we're going to be late for class!"

"Can I just hug my bestfriend for a minute?"

You chuckle, "I appreciate it, now, step on it!" you point at her as she laughs

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

"I don't blame Jason Carver for reacting that way, if I were him on his position, I would've done the same"

You scoff at that, this debate in your history class is taking forever, Veronica can feel your patient is hitting on its limit

"It's 2024 and Hawkins is still a shitshow"

"Goddamn right"

"Oh- what was that Y/N L/N? care for you to join us?" One of the students called you out as you can feel your eyes are going to stuck behind due to over rolling your eyes too much

You mock him a smile, "Yes, I do think I have something to share" as you stand up and went in front

"Oh shit" Veronica smirks as you slightly hit her shoulder

"You know it is never right to kill someone who is innocent"

"Well, how do you know Eddie Munson is innocent? Were you there? You don't know what is like finding out about your girlfriend killed in a freaky way"

"For starters, Jason didn't have any proof, he doesn't have evidence that Eddie Munson did this"

"Have you completely forgotten that his girlfriend was found on his trailer?"

"No, I didn't, just because it happened there doesn't mean he was the one who did it"

"Jason still remains the only right-"

"I won't support a madman who is willingly to kill someone who is innocent and always claiming that Eddie was the main suspect without proper evidence, Jason showed every disturbing behavior towards the people of Hawkins, many people admitted that he brainwashed and twisted every word that happened while looking for Eddie, he turned everyone against him who obviously wasn't supposed to be the one being pressed on and also let's not forget the fact that he punched Lucas Sinclair almost bludgeoning killing him and what for? Why would he do that to Lucas? Was he desperate? Is he frustrated for not having the chance to punch Eddie in the face like he always desired to do, so, instead he poured his anger everything to Lucas? and he wasn't even Eddie, Eddie was the one he was looking for right? Why hitting him the face to a pulp? that just goes to show that he is in fact the one who is dangerous, You missed out that his sister, Erica Sinclair spoken about it publicly on a TV program back in 2001 interviewing him about how his brother almost died because of Jason Carver."

Before your debater speak again, you didn't let it this time

"Have you completely forgotten, the massive earthquake that happened back in 1986? that's where the locals find out that Eddie wasn't the one who is doing those curses all along"

You looked around over your classmates and you saw one of them nodding along to your words

"Henderson, Dustin Henderson, he published a book in 1994 writing about his interaction with his dear friend Eddie Munson and he still keeps saying the same thing until now that he will always be innocent"

"Are you saying that Jason Carver is a villain?"

"No, he is just blinded by the wrong belief's and he needs a guidance for anything else"

Your teacher applauded you and the rest of class did too, your debater slumped both of his shoulders

"A+ for you, Miss Y/N" she smiles at you

"Thanks a lot, freak" he hits your shoulder aggressively making you wince at it as you shook your head sideways

"So much for not accepting losses, does he know sport?" You throw your hands up

The bell rings as it now time for lunch and everyone is leaving out of the room as you watch your bestfriend, Veronica, coming at you and hooking a hand around your forearm

"It's a delight to see him butthurt because he was defeated by a woman and he can't accept it because he has LDS"

"What's LDS?"

"Little Dick Syndrome"

You bursted out laughing as it echoes in the hallway, both of you didn't care as you went inside of the cafeteria

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

Veronica dropped you off in your house after school

You stand in front of your house as you caught the screen door hitting back and forth as if someone break in, you immediately went alerted mode

Once you carefully walked inside, you saw every furniture is broken and every picture is torn into shreds as you looked for your mom, the moment she's in your sight, you kneel down and took off the bag from your shoulder

"Why are you here?" She's still shaking as you placed your palms over your her shoulders

"What-" you knitted your brows together as you went confused about her remark

"Why are you like this?" She saids when she ripped out from your hold as she stands up

"Mom- are you okay-" you stood up as you went to follow her

"I'm trying to fix this family and why do you always have to spoil it?"

You know what happened while you're away, they both had another heated argument

"I know- you're upset, mom-" you sigh as you picked up your bag

"Why are you like this?" She glares at you and you perplexed why she's blaming this on you

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head

"Why the fuck are you like this?" She gave you an outburst, you didn't have to let this thing get into you but you can't help since you're only a human being

You can't help to have feelings, so, you went defensive

"Mom, I didn't ask for to be like this-" you tried to steady your voice but it cracked the time your eyes went glossy

"Why don't you just suck it up!" She yelled those words as you flinched by the tone of her voice

Your eyes widen but then again it fades when there's a darker cloud is going over to your head overthinking

Your mom had a bad day and you know it's not your fault but you just had enough of it

"You want me to disappear, then so be it" you voice is stern as you turn you back and walk away

You forgot to look back at your mother's eyes, it flickered with regret as it welled up in tears when she realizes what she has done

She didn't had the chance to keep up to you when you're already running miles away

"Oh no- wait- please! Y/N!" Your mom called out to you but you kept running and running

You put your palms over your knees as you pant and step aside from the road

You started walking as you hang your head low

Your try not to think about it, you hate your family, you hate this town and the people in it

"God- I hate this place" you murmured as you kick the tiny pebbles on the ground

When you reached at the abandoned Starcourt Mall, you've never talked or spoken about to anyone else that you feel like you're been there before but you can't place it

Your brows are pulled together as you try to understand it, you also have these weird dreams that keep flashing whenever you're in a deep sleep

Was that a dream? Or is it a memory?

It feels so real, you glanced over the chain leather bracelet on your wrist

You can't recall when did you get that or you didn't even know if you bought it for yourself

It just so happens that it's there

You can't even explain how you got the same cap that Dustin wore, but for some reason, you hide it your closet

Also the faint scars on your neck, it's not gnarly but when you look closer there's something in there

Sometimes, you don't even feel like this world that you woke up to isn't real, it's like you're walking inside of a made up world or a like projector

You started to walk slowly when you only can recollect of the memories that you had with your "family"

But what about the questionable stuff that you have on you?

You might be sounded delusional but why did you have things from the heroes of Hawkins?

You looked over to your right and saw their monumental statue filled with their names on the bottom

"The Fearless Hawkins Indiana Heroes"

You don't know why but you always lingered your stare at a one specific person's name that is engraved on the marbled stone

Why does it feel like you knew him? not only knew him but you feel like you've been with him and it grows something bigger and much more deeper

But then again, you get a hold of yourself because if he's still alive today he would've been 60+ years old by now

This was supposed to make you feel even more sad if you walked around these monuments of them but you feel comfortable and close to them

This place was your sanctuary whenever you feel you don't like to get home early

There's a group photo that is displayed in the front center

You step forward as you tried to inspect the picture

Your eyes goes big as you can recognize the person beside.....Eddie? The Eddie Munson?

You can't see your face clearer that much because you're hiding from the camera and someone definitely captured your photo together all of the sudden

It's the same shirt and jeans that you're wearing right now

"No- that's impossible" you feel boneless and your cheeks lost its color as you try to blink more than once

You might think your mind is just playing with you but it doesn't even goes away

You're still in the picture, it doesn't have to be creepy but you feel alarmed by all of this

This is all becoming too much for you to let it all sink in

So, you left the historical place as you walked faster and faster

You ignore that you crossed the abandoned Family Video

You halt your tracks when you pass by a building that you never seen before

You move your head side to side as you swallow the bile in your throat as you walked closer to it

You don't know why but something else is pulling you inside and to your senses, it feels safe for some reason?

From all of the buildings that you went to, this looks new and it's looked nice inside

It's a record store, it's filled with vinyls, tapes, CD's

You got jumped by the presence of a older man but he looks familiar to you the moment he appeared in the front desk

You will never ever understand why that he looked at you like that

He got this knowing look in his eyes, this was supposed to make you feel weird, you can just turn your heel and walk away but you didn't

"I believe you will like this one"

He slides a "Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" tape in front of you

Now, this is even got more odd to you, is that even a coincidence that he knew your favorite song?

"I'm sorry- wait- how did you"

"Oh shoot, I forgot to wear my name tag"

There he goes in the backroom as you frustratedly sigh

This is a very a bad idea but a stranger? gave you a tape?

But, you still took it nonetheless as you looked for your vintage walkman as you placed the tape inside

You put on the headset and the moment you start to press play

Your hands begin to swirled in the air, you panicked as it goes everywhere

There's like a lazer boom sound and it all happens too fast and now you're standing in the same place but you're in the middle of the woods as the peculiar building is now long gone and from what you know

The morning has already passed and from where you were earlier is already noon

You stopped the tape as you remove the headset and put it all to your bag as you try to walk around the area

"That....was....very....trippy" you said as you try to brush it off what just happened

The time you stepped in the road, you saw a lot of retro cars and you didn't even noticed the people inside of it, of what they look like but the moment all you can see is from the 1980's cars on the road you started to feel strange

You shake your head and you made up your mind that you're only just hungry that's why you're seeing things as you headed to home but then you remember that you had a homework for English class and you forgot to bring home your book, so, you groaned in annoyance as you walked to school

When you reached your destination, you gasped

Why does everyone looked like from those pictures you saw in your school library?

When you looked some of the students, you've been getting these eccentric looks from them, it's not offending, they don't even looked disgusted

It's just that it looks like you're in....No- no- no- absolutely not we're not going down there

You've noticed they tried to read what's in your shirt and you try to stealth your moves as you walked forward

Oh my god, it gets even more bizarre when you stepped inside

This doesn't looked like your school, you know that your school got renovated so there's a lot of changes in it

You're so crazy for thinking like this, you're crazy for asking it

"Um- I'm sorry, can I ask what date and year is it?" You asked one of the students in the locker

"Oh, sure, no problem, it's March 21 1986"

You need to restrain the shock from your face from what she just said "March 21 1986?" You say it again

"Yes, that's right! Wait- I'm gonna get to class now, bye!" She saids as she picked up her stuff from the locker and jogs away

"Oh my god.....oh my god- I'm in the past?" You whisper-shout as you try to calm down

You're so bamboozled as you looked at the tape again, now, you know why you're here

It's because of the tape that you played not an hour ago

You pinch yourself, you try to slap your cheek but no to avail, you're not dreaming

This is real and you're here

How will you ever get the fuck out of here?

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"I'll talk to you later, okay?" He ruffles his hair as the boy winces from his action, no way, that's Mike Wheeler

You're still walking around inside trying to figure how to escape this and then you heard his voice

You try to find him until your eyes landed on him

Jesus Christ, the few pictures that you saw from him in the books don't even do justice

He looks even better in person, he looks so handsome, you admiring Edward Munson from afar

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you find yourself harboring a crush over some dead guy, not even just some dead guy

He's a hero, if only the Hawkins knew what he is like

He has always been described in the real authentic books that you read that he is kind, gentle, playful, full of wonder, very caring to those people who is exactly like him, an outcast

Now, you're seeing it for yourself right between your very eyes, it feels so different in person, you always had been so defensive when it comes to his personal life, out of all the history in Hawkins, he's the only one that you ever truly cared for as if you knew him in real life, you've never even met him until now whatever this is, even if it's real or not, you're so honored to come by this close to him you became even more empathetic to him when you saw how he truly behaves while he was still alive

Your smile slowly drops when you realized that he doesn't even know, no one else in the group knows what will happen to him

All of the nasty things that people talked about him in the past and even in the future

You will never forget when in 2022, you saw the news that they lifted the case that he was truthfully innocent

When they should've done it years ago

Is this the reason why you're in here? To help them? To help him?

The bell rings that made you snap out of your thoughts and everyone is walking towards to the cafeteria as you follow suit

Oh shit, are you witnessing the moment of history that just happened here?

You shudder when you saw Jason Carver, god- his great grandson looks like just like him and acts like him too, you try not to barf thinking about it, his stupid descendants still spreading lies until now, you can't believe they have the privilege to do that

Enough of about the Carvers, holy shit- he got a fat ass point on his speech as you watch him strut his way in the table

You know D&D, but you never played it, now, seeing it unfold, god- he is so serious about it

Dustin was right, it is a sadistic campaign

The fact that you take a step back because you know damn well they wouldn't believe you if you told them what will happen to Eddie later

But, there's a force that is pulling you here and whatever you try to hesitate, you will still go for it

Especially you can't even stand by it for your conscience even though is already written in the books

What is done, is done, what happened, happened

Can you somehow change the past? Can you undo the events that happened back then?

will Hawkins, can be peaceful when you manage to remove the curse in the town?

You will have to wait until....He'll met Chrissy

Oh shit, right, he's going to sell K to the Queen of Hawkins High

But, first, you'll have to know her favorite song, so, you can save her and Eddie won't be a wanted man

If only it was easy to plan it, you know they can't just believe you, but you will try

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You saw Chrissy in the woods, acting all horror-struck as she looked everywhere and when you follow her gazes, you see nothing else that you can see that is terrifying, you ran up to her

When she almost tripped herself as she goes backwards, she bumped into you as she shrieked

Instead, you're the one who got bumped behind your back to Eddie

"Woah, woah, hey- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to scare you" he smiles all dimples are shown but confusion is etched immediately to his features when he looked at you

"You okay?" He looked over to your shoulder as he asks Chrissy

She didn't respond, she's still looking at the tree with fearful eyes

Eddie looked where she is looking as he gotten more confused

You hold both of her shoulders to swing her around to face you

"Hi, sorry, I know you don't know me but you gotta believe me, I know what frightens you"

She squints her eyes a little bit but the terror is still present as she looked at Eddie who is puzzled

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I know why you wanted to buy drugs to Eddie"

He moved beside you as he tries to understand the situation, he wanted to cut off the scenario but something tells him that you're saying the truth

"What-"

"I know you seeing things, Chrissy"

She's trembling under your touch as her eyes starts forming tears on her waterline

"I-I don't-"

"You saw the grandfather clock"

Her eyes widen when you knew what she saw

"How did you-"

"You heard chimed 3 times"

"You're scaring her, now, back off" He clicked his tongue as he gestures you move away

You sigh in defeat as you follow to what he just said as Eddie pulls Chrissy behind his back

Chrissy who is now stunned at how accurate the things that you just said

He roams his eyes at you from top to bottom, and he got curious at the picture that looked like a band from your long sleeve

"Who are you, anyway?" He asks you as he crosses both of his arms

"That's not for you to know" my god- his eyes are so pretty, what the fuck- okay, Y/N focus!

You tried to get close to Chrissy who has this hopeful eyes at you

"Chrissy, let me help you-" you walked closer but Eddie blocks your way

"Hey, I told you to back off!" He gave you a pointed look

"I'm trying to save her life!" You exclaimed, you missed the way Chrissy has become shaken

"What?" He shakes his head in confusion

Chrissy blinks rapidly as she's the one who went in front of Eddie

You stare at her, watching her intently as you see her nod slowly, meaning that she wants you to elaborate

"I know exactly who is the person behind calling your name out of nowhere, other people can't see it when you're in a trance, but I know it is real, he got you cursed because he likes to target people who are traumatized by their life events" you explained as you pause taking deep breaths

You continue "You buy drugs to Eddie just so you can be distracted from all of the things that you're seeing, when you ran out, that's where it all comes back again"

"Who is he?" Eddie scratches the back of his neck

"Vecna" you plainly said

"I'm sorry, but how can you be so sure that she is for real?!?" Eddie chuckles lightly as he looked down to Chrissy

There is only one way to find out that you're actually saying the truth

"Do you know what he looked like?" Chrissy softly speaks as she swallowed tightly

"I can't describe the perfect word for him but he's tall, has a lot of vines going over his neck, he has powers just by using his hand he can control over you like a snap, he looked like a.....monster"

"What a fucking shit show, are you buying-" he stopped when he heard the faint sniffles and the sharp gasp that she just let out

"She's telling the truth, Eddie" She gulped as she looked up to him and she went frantic when she glanced at you

"Okaaaaaay, I don't know what the hell is going on and from what I know I was only to meet Chrissy here not you, you just spawned out of nowhere and your clothes-" Eddie starts to ramble as he wipes his face with his palm

"Wait- no, don't go- Chrissy!" You tried to chase her but it was too late, she is gone from your vision

"If I were her, I would do the same thing"

"Like what-"

"Running away from you"

You scoff, "Eddie, I am trying to save a life here and you too"

He dramatically taken aback as he mocks a gasp, "What about me?"

God, he can be such a cute nerd dork but he's also a pain in the ass

"You don't believe me right? Let's just say after your D&D campaign later will be successful with your Hellfire Club and the sub that you demanded to Dustin and Mike will be Erica Sinclair because Lucas can't be there because of the laundry baskets game" you gesture to his shirt he tries to speak but you beat him to it as you continue, "when you go home, Chrissy will be there with you because she wanted something more stronger than you just offered but since I came here first to warn her, the deal didn't happen, so, I guess this will be the only time for you to be free to walk around"

"Free? From who?"

"From the police" you walk away with that and you didn't even bother to wait for his reply

"that's such bullshit, I didn't even know her name" he shooked his head as he left the woods

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Eddie wanted to drop the scenario that happened with you earlier

But, his mind won't shut up if you're right all along

You we're right that Erica is the sub

The campaign went well, too well

"Hey, Henderson" he gathered all of his stuff back on his bag

"Yeah?" Dustin replies as he helps Eddie to clean up

"I met up with Chrissy earlier in the woods but someone else is there"

"Shit, was it Jason?"

"No- not him, it's another girl but-"

"But?"

"She's different, she acts different and even her clothes are out of the ordinary"

"So, what if she's so different?"

"Dustin, she spoke something about Chrissy that I can't understand like the grandfather clock and some kind of a hideous monster putting curses in all of kids in Hawkins"

That's where the boy began to straighten himself up as he looked at Eddie this time who is still perplexed

"And then what else did she say?"

"See, here's the funny thing, I don't believe that much into predictions but she already knew about what happened here"

"Oh?"

"She knew about Erica, she knew that our campaign will be fine"

"Does this girl, have a name?"

"Nah, I didn't get the chance to ask her because it all happened too fast-"

He stops abruptly as he carries his bag as Dustin placed the boxes on the shelf, "One thing that made me feel eerie is that she told me that I only have a few hours left that I was free from the police"

"What?" Dustin looked at him in confusion as he thinks Eddie's words carefully, but why does it feel there's a knowing pounding in his heart that he might know what this is all about

The secret that his metalhead friend that he didn't know about Hawkins

"Yeah, I know, it's weird" Eddie just shrugs

"Maybe, it's all just a coincidence"

"How will it be just a coincidence when she told me everything all at once without her stuttering"

"I think she's just messin' with you" he gets on with his bike as Dustin doesn't like to think too much about the information that his friend just said

"You know what, you're probably right, pal- I'll see ya, tomorrow" He sighs as he gives him a small smile and pats his back as he waved goodbye to Dustin

When he's about to unlock the driver's seat to his van

Fuck, he jumped when he felt a touch from his shoulder and my god- it is Chrissy

He wants to know who are you? Why do you know all of this?

It's so impossible that this is just a coincidence

"That girl is getting all too real for my liking, jesus christ" He muttered the words under his breath as he places his palm over his chest as he calms down first

"Sorry, Eddie- uh- I still need the-" He cuts her off as he motions to the passenger seat

"Yeah, you can hop on" He nods as he jogs over to the other side

"Eddie, do you have it?" Chrissy bops her knees up and down anxiously, she craned her neck to peek at Eddie who is looking through his stuff

"I got it- somewhere-" He stood up as he tries to think where he hid it and turns his back on her and went to his bedroom

When Eddie left her all alone, Chrissy thought she was still in the same world

A cold sweat runs through the side of her face when she realizes it as she furiously panicked as she looked everywhere for Eddie

"It's time for your suffering to end"

"Eddie!" she got goosebumps at the sound of this monstrous voice as she continues to kick and bang every wall to cry out for help

"Found it! peaceful bliss just moments away" his smile fades when he saw Chrissy standing so still and he noticed her eye color changed

It's all white with blue-ish hues on them

He starts calling her name, snaps his fingers, clapping both of his hands, he shakes her by the both of her shoulders and slapping her cheek in the same process

His heart begins to thump into his chest when he noticed all the lights on the room are flickering non-stop

It finally dawned on him that you're right yet again

"What the fu-" he steps back when Chrissy begins to levitate, he didn't even know that his hand is shaking in fear

The front door bangs open as he fells all the way down to floor in shock when he saw you standing on his doorstep

You glare at him and then you saw Chrissy is on a trance, Vecna already has her and you know if you don't move now she will be gone for good

"Chrissy, I'm here, you can escape this"

You shakily put the headset on her and put the tape on your walkman and you press play

"I know he has you, please- listen to my voice, follow my voice, if you can see any portal in there, run for it, I know you can do it"

Eddie slowly gets back up to his feet as he swallows the lump in his throat as he walks closer to the both of you, he sniffles and has clammy hands

Chrissy saw the portal fading in behind Vecna as he holds her still

She quivered from the vines that goes along to her waist as she clocked the hammer beside the small table, she was just about to be covered in vines so she has the time to discreetly get it

By your doing, this caught the attention of Vecna as he turns his head back as he felt someone else doesn't belong in this timeline

She heard your voice as it echoes in again and again in the same area

The moment he looked at her again, Chrissy hit him in the head harshly buying more time to try to make a run for it

Vecna tries to get her but Chrissy swiftly dodges his traps as he grunts in pain

"Eddie" you call his name for assistance

He's in a state of shock as he doesn't know what to do, his ears began to throb as he can't steady the beating of his heart

"Eddie!" You said it out loud this time

"Y-Yeah?" His eyes are misty as he blinks at you

"I know you're scared but I need you to get ready to catch her, she must land between the two of us so she won't get hurt, Okay?" You demonstrate it to him

He gives you a tight nod as he inhales deeply

When Chrissy reaches the portal with you and Eddie being on it, the sight became all pitch black

The moment she woke up realizing she's still floating she dropped into your arms to Eddie's and she's finally brought back into the real world

She gasps in relief and began to wail in your arms and to Eddie's, she's still looking around as if she were being tricked again, you saw the look of almost life-threatening experience on her eyes, your eyes starts to water when she recognizes you and let her embrace you as she begins to weep

You saw Eddie's hands quavering as he looks like he's about to faint from what he just witnessed

Before he hits his head first, you hold his hand tightly making him look in your eyes directly as you use your other hand to held Chrissy as you comfort her

"You're okay, we're safe.....for now"

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taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard

(Yay, finally, I posted the first chapter of this series and I hope you enjoyed and liked it! Thank you so so so very much of your support! I greatly appreciate it, I did not expected my idea to be recognized and I feel so happy about it! take care always and stay hydrated! I hope y'all stick around for the next part! 🥺🫶🏻✨)