#if they're gonna get a close-up they're gonna make it count they're just gonna FREAK OUT

[awkwardtrekphotos]

[denwritesandcries]

Dating Tara having a scary dog HCs

Pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You didn’t expect your girlfriend to act like that around your dog, but it's still pretty funny though.

Word count: 1,4k.

Content: cursing, fluff, tara being dramatic and a caos gremlin, author never had a dog, mentions of scream V.

Note: Still don't think I'm really good at hcs but I had fun writing these!

English is not my first language.

- Tara could admit that she didn’t know much about you when you first started to go out, which probably would have caused Sam to have a meltdown if she’d found out about it, but, well, making impulsive decisions was her specialty.

- One of the things Tara had come to learn about you — details, mere details — was that you had a dog, after hearing you mention it once or twice.

- Tara, who had never had a pet before, was immediately excited with the prospect of meeting and having one in her life, wondering what it would be like.

- You hadn’t shown her any pictures, and on your Instagram there were a surprising amount of different dogs for her to be sure which one was yours, so Tara tried to guess. Would it be a puppy, happy and gangly? Or even an older, relaxed and well-behaved one, a childhood dog maybe? Would make a good cuddle buddy.

(Whichever one it was, she hoped it to be a short-haired; her asthma and allergies would be very grateful.)

- What she hadn’t imagined, however, was to come across her girlfriend smiling and waving brightly, with a damn hound on a leash on what should have been a perfectly romantic and uneventful date.

“What is that?”

“Hi, baby!” you greet, oblivious to her incredulous and apprehensive tone, “That’s Cujo.”

“Cujo,” she echoed, hesitantly, “Like… the rabid, murderous dog from the movie?”

“No, not the movie, the book,” you corrected. “Don’t worry, Tar, she’s a sweetie.”

“Your Cerberus is a she?”

“It’s just a doberman, babe.”

Great.

- Tara’s definitely scared of your dog at first, but she won't admit it. She's faced crazy killers before, for God's sake! A little pet was nothing.

- You know she's scared from the start. It's honestly kind of funny how she tries to act all brave, especially since you know Cujo wouldn't hurt a fly if she could (and she could), so you do your best to make her relax.

- Trying to get her used to it at first by asking if she'd like to hold the leash on walks, even though she always refuses it, “If it decides to start running I might get dragged across town until I fall down some drain. Would you dare do that to your poor asthmatic girlfriend?”

- Trying to avoid situations where your dog is involved doesn't work for long, though, it lives with you, after all – duh, Tara, really? – and your house is the only place you two can have some privacy without Sam hovering like a hawk all the time, so she has to get over it, like, urgently.

She stops you at the door the first time she comes over:

“So, is there any more… unexpected pets I should know about?”

You shrug, “I have some sea monkeys too.”

- She’s completely dramatic about it at first, as she always is when things don’t go her way. But it’s endearing, and it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with her anyway.

- So… Tara, who has staring contests with your dog every time she comes over for the night or to just hang out, because she can’t stop squinting suspiciously every time she gets too close to the furry form you idolize so much.

- Tara, who gets upset and sullen when you’re gonna cuddle and the dog is faster, taking up your entire lap, the place she should be.

“You can just lay or rest on her, baby, I swear she won't bite.”

“No freaking way! Here, just hold me closer.”

Well, she swears that your dog would have laughed at her if she could.

- Tara, who's sure your dog has something against her and chases her around for the pure pleasure of it, no matter how much you argue about projecting, dark eyes making her jump in fright whenever they're in the same room.

- Tara, who huffs and whines when you go to sleep and the dog follows you, sprawling at your feet in the bed like she's its owner.

“Oh man, even here?”

“Tar, she's sleeping. It's a dog, it's not planning something against you.”

“She's threatening me on purpose!”

“She probably knows that you dislike her, you know, it's pretty obvious.”

“Whatever, I'm not apologizing to a dog.”

- Tara, who actually finds it pretty comfortable sleeping next to the furball, who keeps the bed less lonely and stops the heat from escaping when you get up early to make breakfast.

- Tara, who warms up and attaches quickly afterward, even if she doesn't want to admit it out of sheer stubbornness.

“Awn, I see you guys are getting along. You're petting her now! That’s so great, honey!”

“I'm not! I'm just checking to make sure she didn't bring any dirt from the park earlier.”

- Tara, who turns into an absolute menace once she and your dog bond and you honestly don't know if that's a good thing or not, but it's chaotic anyway.

- Tara, who struts around, holding on to the leash to save her life and still managing to look completely smug like a damn small gangster, laughing at those who stray from their path or get scared by the sudden barking.

“Ha, look at them! Scared of such a little pup, losers.”

“If she ever gets up she'd be literally bigger than you, Tar,” you sigh, “And you acted just like them too.”

“Liar! All lies!”

- Tara, who spends her money on thousands of clothes and accessories that she thinks would look good on the dog, even though your pet already has a lot. Most of them are silly costumes from movies she likes, and one day you come home to find your dog on the couch wearing a cheap Michael Myers costume and you can barely breathe from laughing when she comes running up to greet you by the door.

- You definitely notice your dog wearing a big colorful bow that conveniently matches your girlfriend’s shirt and teases her shamelessly. All you get is a ‘she looks like a princess, leave her be!’

- She calls the dog by cute pet names and talks in a baby voice – which she denies to death – when she thinks no one is listening. Sometimes you even get confused about who the ‘hi baby!’ is for when she walks through the room.

- You're a little jealous when she prefers to snuggle with your dog instead of you, but you end up finding it so adorable that the problem is solved by cuddling them both together and that way everyone’s happy and content.

- Sam almost has a heart attack the first time she sees Tara with the dog, as do Chad and Ethan; Mindy’s a little hesitant and Anika’s the only one genuinely excited and happy about everything, wanting to pet it as soon as she sees her lying on the carpet.

- With that, Tara also defends your dog from anyone who dares to open their mouth and say something bad about her, whether they're your friends or the Karens you meet when you're out together (you have to stop her from throwing hands with them occasionally).

- Teaches the dog to purposely bark to scare Ethan every time he says something stupid and inappropriate and you're left wondering when the hell she had time to do that without you knowing, completely ignoring your claims of 'being a bad influence.'

- Protects the dog from absolutely any of your scolding, no matter what the reason, dramatically covering its ears and looking personally offended by your complaints. You can never stay mad for long with the sight of your girlfriend trying to cover up a dog who's clearly more intimidating than her and literal puppy eyes staring at you with intensity, letting go even if your couch or plants have been destroyed.

- You end up with a happy little family before you finish college without even realizing it, which ends up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

- Tara's favorite part of all of this is the slow and warm mornings when you two don't have to be anywhere and can sleep in, feeling your arm around her waist and your dog curled up between you – under the covers too because it got cold during the night – when she can sigh contentedly and enjoy what you have without any more fears about the future.

“You know, remembering how scared you were of Cujo in the beginning, I never would have expected it to end up like this.”

“That name still doesn't fit,” she says stubbornly, “And I’ve never been scared of our dog, I just wasn’t a pet person.”

“Our dog?”

“Oh, shut it.”

She would never admit it anyway.

- Tara could admit, though, that you were right: your dog really is a sweetie.

[yung-notorious]

I LOVE THE KINKS, B*TCH, PANTIES TO THE SIDE, BAE! I GOTTA SNEAK 'CAUSE YOUR B*TCHES DO NOT LIKE ME!— ♡

— your roommates are gone for the next couple of hours, and you're in the mood for some company...served with a side of tongue of course. you ain't asking for too much. — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x college!gojo, excerpt from never lose me chapter 7, porn with plot, situationship, late-night sneaky links, pillow talk, risky unprotected sex, dirty talk & body worship, light spit & cum play, squirting, missionary & backshots, fingering & p*ssy eating, cunnilingus, voice kink, breeding kink, exhibition kink, almost creampie, gojo’s character may be questionable but his stroke game is A1. notes. word count 6k, apart of a larger body of work but can stand alone as a one-shot. you can read the full chapter here: A03 & master post. title: baby keem - pink panties

There’s just something about getting those “I’m outside” texts that makes your heart race and your tummy tingle just enough to have you rushing downstairs with some pep in your step. You thought answering the door wearing tight little Nike Pro shorts would shake him up, but seeing him walk up the front porch steps wearing something as simple as a black slim fit tee is doing you in way worse. 

Wherever he just came from looking this fine, he couldn’t have been up to any good, but fuck it— y’all can get into that later. All that matters now is that he’s here and you’re minutes away from riding him like the little red polo player on his shirt. 

“You took forever~” You say playfully, arms slinging around his neck as he pulls you into a tight hug, his hands coming down to gently hold you at the waist. Maybe you’re too down bad to think straight, but at this moment you truly believe nothing will ever come close to the affect his sweet touches have on you and when he holds you closer, it’s almost like melting into his arms. 

“I got here in an hour like I said.” He lets you go with a kiss to your cheek, then you’re taking his hand into yours just like before, leading him up the steps to the second floor your apartment unit is on. 

“Come on, come on!” His hands come to lift your butt as you climb the stairs in an attempt to push you up the steps further. 

“Stop, before I trip!” You snap, but it comes out as more of a hushed whisper, trying to keep your voice down out of respect for your neighbors. 

“You’re not gonna trip, come on you’re moving too slow!” He says, giving your butt a few playful taps that have a bit of impact behind them that have you giggling and picking up your pace. He should have just carried you up the stairs if he wanted to get you in the bed faster.

“Where’d you park?” You ask, unlocking your door, making room for the both of you to step inside. 

“Like around the corner, there weren't any spots why?” 

“No reason.” You say all cherry to keep things low-key. You might have failed to mention to him that having him here tonight is a bit problematic. You know for a fact the girls will throw a fit if they found out you skipped dinner to sneak him in.

“I’ll take your shoes— put them in my room.” You pick them up; they're New Balances, and you don’t even want to try to guess what size they are. You don’t know when the girls will be back, so you’ll have to hide them with you. 

Following you down the hall to your room, you lock the door behind you. You’re doing it right this time by having the vibes set before he came through. The lighting is dim and you have your oil diffuser going with music playing off your TV. Unsure of what to throw on you chose the first ‘Calm Night’ playlist that came up on Youtube. Young Nudy’s ‘Passion Fruit’ is playing low…which is a choice…but the beat is hot enough for you to freak too so it’ll do.

“Where’s your roommates?” He sits at the edge of your bed, pulling you in by the waist to stand between his legs, your hands coming down to rest on his shoulders as you look down on him. 

“Out eating— Ow stop! I’m ticklish.” His hands come up to rub circles around your lower abdomen.

“Where at, how come you ain’t go?” He lifts you up to take you in his lap, shifting up your bed as he does so, laying back on your pillows— your stuffed animals already tossed to a corner of your room.

“At some Italian place down the street, and because I was tired. Didn’t feel like going out tonight. I already told you this.” You shift to sit more comfortably. “And why are your pants still on?” You move to tug at the waistband of his sweats but he stops you before you can do so, collecting your hands in his then letting them go. 

“Uh-uh, just wait. I wanna talk to you first— I missed you. How your day been, what you been up to?”

“Mmm…I slept most of the day. I was doing homework with my friend when you texted me—” You slide down his body to rest your head on his chest, and he shifts with you, wrapping you in his arms. You’re close enough to hear his heartbeat, his chin resting gently on your head as he holds you.

“You were on campus?”

“No, we did it together over Facetime. She lives in your dorm actually, that’s who I was with yesterday.”

“Do I know her, what’s her name?”

“You don’t know her— and I’m not giving you her name!" You laugh.

“Why? You tryna have spies on me?”

“Yeah, can’t have you know who I got spying on you— Ow! Stop it!” You yelp, feeling him playfully pinch at your side. It doesn’t actually hurt, but it catches you off guard since you’re ticklish there.

“What do you need spies for? You think I’m sneaky?”

“Anyways!” You draw out, dodging the question in an effort to keep the peace.

“After that, I helped Utahime and Shoko get ready for this girl we’re friend’s with birthday dinner.”

“Oh so you ain’t get invited? That’s why you stayed in?” 

“Tsch, No! I stayed back because I found out at the last minute that it was tonight. By that time I didn’t feel like getting dressed to go.”

“You probably should have gone, she invited you because she wants you to be there.”

“I mean yeah— but she’s more Utahime’s friend, not mine. She’ll be alright.”

“I don’t know…” He chuckles, “You know how girls get when it comes to their birthdays. She might stop fucking with you and never talk to you again.”

“Tsch, oh my god it’s not that deep.” You roll your eyes at the dramatics. That girl will be okay!

“Utahime and I got into a whole argument about it too. She tried to call me selfish. You think that’s selfish?” You lift your head to look at him, seeking his opinion. “All because I didn’t wanna go to dinner?”

“Wasn’t just a dinner, it was a birthday dinner. And that isn’t selfish— if you didn’t want to go then you didn’t want to go. Don’t stress about it anymore, it's over with. You can’t do anything about it now.” 

“It’s not always good to be everywhere all the time. I’ll come out once in a blue but I’m inside a lot, my friends know me for that but it’s all cool.” He adds on. 

Aww, see, this is why you like him! If a man can’t take your side even when you’re slightly in the wrong then y’all shouldn’t be fucking! 

“They know I’m here?” He asks, his tone sounding as if he’s caught on to the reason behind your actions back at the front door when he had first walked in. 

“Maybe…” You admit, halfheartedly already caught in your lil scheme.

“No way you got me in here after getting into a fight with your roommates. Let me leave now before they get back, you’re setting me up.”  He laughs and starts to lift you off him to make his exit, but you use your weight to try and keep him down.

“Aht! No! Lay down!” 

“I’m playing, I’m playing.” He lets you go, arms tightening back around you smoothening you into his chest then letting you go.

“And we didn’t fight, we just exchanged a couple cuss words. We’re all good.” You shift onto your side, settling into his embrace with his right hand resting on your shoulder. 

“Uh-oh, I know how your mouth gets, I even get a little scared of you when you’re mad.” 

“Shut up—”

“Auhp! See, there it goes.” He laughs, cutting you off. 

“I swear I’m a nice girl, y’all just make me mad sometimes. Pushing my buttons.”

“Who’s y’all? I already know you’re an angel, you don’t have to keep proving it to me.” 

“So what were you doing that took so long, said you were with your friends?” You ask, trying to take the subject off of you. 

“Uhhh— we got together in one of my mans dorm. Had a conversation,  all of us were just chilling.”

“And that took you an hour?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“They talk a lot.” He says with a snarky laugh.

“Saying what?” You push further. Y’all fuck for real now so you want to know all the tea— where he’s going, coming from, and who he’s been with. It ain’t controlling either, it’s overseeing. 

“Nothing too serious– just a lot of weird shit going on. Nothing for you to worry about though...kid shit.”

“And you had to put on cologne for that?” You question, nipping playfully at his shirt. You’re not entirely buying his story, and you’re also not trying to accuse him of lying, but you can tell he’s leaving out details that are probably going to catch him up on whatever’s actually going on. It’s cool though, you’re going to find out eventually. Trust.

“Baby this a fresh polo tee, came right out of the pack today. I ain’t put on cologne.” He says smoothly. 

“So you just always smell this good, naturally?” You continue teasing. It’s a silly question, but you’re not backing down from this little debate— or whatever it is.

“Yeah, probably? But I also wash up.” He says with a tone that makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, and it has you cracking up.

“And when are you gonna repost my story? It only has a few hours left, I’m tryna get more views on it.” He says bringing you closer, turning the topic back on to you.

“What yo!?” You suck your teeth. Out of all the things to talk about, he’s bringing that shit up, and now. Stopping to take in the sound of what’s playing in the background, you see that it’s Tinashe’s newer track ‘Uh-Huh’. You should have picked the music yourself tonight, because you surely would have liked getting crushed to her album ‘Nightride’. 

“What, you ain’t fuck with my post?” He teases.

“You know I ain’t like it, stop playing— and what do you know about some Nardo Wick!?” 

“You were turning up to Sexyy Red at the bar, I had a feeling you’d know that song.”

“Mhm…sure.”

“You still want me to delete it?”

“It’s the end of the day, you might as well leave it up. Don’t know why you thought it was cute to embarrass me like that...” You’re over it, seriously you are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t continue pressing him about it. 

“I ain’t embarrass you. You started it, I ended it for you. Told you I was going to get your goofy ass back.” He pokes your cheek and you swat back at his finger.

“Look—” He shifts to pull his phone out of his pants pocket. Like India at Durk, you’re looking all at his phone screen as he opens up Instagram. “You got all these likes and heart eyes. I got a bunch of DMs from people I know saying I’m capping and that I ain’t pull you.” He taps on his story to show you the reactions on the post you’re tagged in, then scrolling through his DMs quickly. “Look at this one, this my bro from back home. He’s laughing at me, saying you ain’t my girl.”

“See, he can even tell you’re a fan.”

“Fuck them, I don’t care. I’m your biggest fan, and I’m back in your bed. Now what?” He locks his phone and sets it face down on your nightstand— the tell-tale sign of a sneaky hoe.

“Tsch— ughh!” You roll your eyes at the irony of his words though you walked right into that one.

“When are you gonna stop playing hard to get?”

“How am I playing hard to get?” You tease, firing back with the same playfulness he uses on you.

“Oh, so I got you then?” 

“I ain’t say that.” You say smart with a little bit of sass mixed in.

“Damn, so you're still treating me like a hoe? You just called me here for some dick and to rub on your booty, didn’t you?” His hand comes down to squeeze your butt, making you smile. 

“Aww see, you know me so well!” You say sarcastically. 

“Uh-uh, I’m tryna get to know you more.” He says, shifting to hover over you. He plants his hands on either side of your head to support himself, looking down at you. “What you do on the weekends, what you’re into, what makes you laugh, smile. I wanna know all that.” You can feel the heat that’s long started to burn in your stomach rise to your cheeks.

“Mmmm, see there you go again blushing. Don’t try to hide it.”

“You talk too much.” You clap back. What more could you say or do, deny the truth?

“And I can keep talking too— help me take these off you.” He says softly, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. Your que to lift your lower half up for him to pull them down. You’re left in your pink thong once they’re off, the cloth at the middle damp and wedged in between the folds of your pussy. His hand comes down to teasingly stroke at your heat, a ticklish feeling that has you instinctively widening your legs. He might think all his sweet talking softened you up, but the truth is that he had you growing wet the moment you answered the door and his big hands held your waist. 

“What time are your roommates coming back?” 

“Not sure…they won’t know you’re here. What you scared?” You bite your lip, looking up at him with teasing eyes. 

“Not scared of them— just gotta be quiet when they get back.” He grabs at your body tightly, large hands spanning over your hips and thighs. “Turn the music off, gotta listen out for the door.” He says, and you’re reaching for the remote you stuck behind your pillow to turn the TV off entirely. 

“Leave them on for a second.” He says, stopping you from taking off your thong next, mesmerized by how it digs into your hips and how its color perfectly complements your complexion. Slipping your hands under his shirt to run them up his chest, you pepper kisses along the side of his jaw as he pulls your thong to the side. Teasing two digits between your folds and around your clit to gather up slick, you can’t help but to buck up chasing more of the feeling. 

“Relax.” He tells you, a firm hand coming down to your hip. You hadn’t noticed you were tense, too caught up in a hurry trying to chase the sensation his touch brings. His command has you easing up, sinking yourself further into the mattress as he moves closer into your space to hover over you, not once breaking eye contact— eyes that you know better than to try and look away from. 

Dropping your hands to lay at your side, he tucks an arm behind your neck to rest his face in its crook, leaving kisses and soft bites along your skin. Running your fingers up into his hair to cradle him closer, bringing him chest to chest, he begins to drive his two fingers deep into you with each and every curl having you moan out in pleasure, widening your legs more in an attempt to rock up against them, chasing his fingers down to the knuckles.

You love the squish sounds your pussy makes, right along with the wet noise of his mouth as he works down your neck. He’s fully clothed still, and when you get the chance to look down you're sure he’s rock hard with the way he’s tenting his sweats. You’d take him out his pants to give him a helping hand, but with the way his fingers are fucking into you so damn good you’re too blissed out from pleasure to find the strength to do so.

Lifting off you a few good strokes later, he moves to tug his clothes off leaving him in his briefs, and you can’t stop your eyes from watching as he takes them off next. His pretty dick, already so hard and heavy, leaking pre. Taking him into your hand, you give his dick a few tight strokes then move to align him to your entrance. 

“I can’t get a taste first?” He breathes out catching your hand, a soft lustful look in his eyes. Oh he’s such a sweetie, always so eager to please, who are you to deny such a beautiful man? Letting go to maneuver your thong off for you, he shifts further down the bed pushing your thighs to the side, plump lips quickly meeting your pussy to give kisses to your clit.

Maybe it’s the pillow princess in you, but there’s nothing you love more than the view that comes with getting your box ate. His head buried between your thighs and your long acrylic nails gently playing with his hair. Your oil diffuser has been running in the corner this entire time— the light emitting from its LEDs casting a purplish glow onto everything throughout the room, and funny enough his soft white hair now resembles pink cotton candy. 

“Fuck—” You moan out softly with your toes curling, caught off guard by his tongue finding its way inside you. Pulling off to spit on your now sloppy pussy, he takes a thumb to smear it in, rubbing circles on your clit.

“Again.” You whine, dragging an index finger down to widen your pussy as you look down for a closer look when he spits again, this time nearly straight inside you. Watching his fingers push in and out of you afterwards heightening your arousal. It’s nasty, unlike anything you’ve experienced before, but you’re starting to enjoy being nasty for him. If he can be your lil' munch, you’ll happily be his lil' slut. Especially when he holds you this close, grips you just right, savors you up like a delicious treat, and murmurs how amazing you taste, loving how wet you get for him every time. 

“Condom?” He pulls off, coming up to lean over you waiting for your response before proceeding. “No…why you still gotta ask?” You say through a teasing smile. It’s only been him, no one else— can’t he tell? 

“Just wanna make sure…” He whispers, left hand trailing up to your chest to wrap around your neck then planting a kiss to your cheek. 

“‘Cause it’s mine right?” He taunts, with a thumb tracing your lower lip. Moving to aligning himself to your entrance you watch him push in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch of his girt as he sinks deeper into you.  

“Shit—” He draws out coming to a hilt, feeling the way you tighten around him he slowly pulls out then back in to watch the way your pussy grabs back at his dick. Taking ahold of your waist he uses a knee to widen you up more, then begins a slow roll of his hips fucking into you in such a way that has you whimpering in pleasure the moment his thighs meet the backsides of yours. 

It’s not enough though, too slow for your liking. You’re more into when fucks you down onto him rough and uncaring, really letting you feel every inch of his dick. The both of you know he’s got it in him, you hate that he’s holding back. 

“More— harder...” You whine out trying to rut against him, taking your left arm to wrap behind his neck, pushing him closer in effort to spur him on to quicken his pace, your other hand grabbing onto his side. 

“Uh-uh, we don’t have to rush…” He murmurs softly, “…i’m not going anywhere.” He shrugs off the arm that’s wrapped around him, taking a hold of your wrist to lay down at the side of your head then intertwining his hand into yours. 

“Let me make you feel good.” He pulls out again, this time sliding the tip through your folds then tapping it hard onto your pussy, causing an audible slap sound that has you humming in pleasure. 

“Wanna take my time with you— tell me where it feels good, okay?” 

You nod in response, voice stuck in your throat as his words fuel the fire that’s burning in your stomach. Lifting your head up a bit to watch as he slides back in, you bring a hand down taking two fingers to part your folds, fingers fixed in a V shape allowing his dick to thrust between them into you  

“There you go— spread it open for me.” He grunts, hips rolling slow and shallow, wetting his thumb to rub circles into your clit. “That feel good?” 

“Mhm— fuck…deeper.” You nod, he’s only got half his dick in and as much as you love the fact that it’s not even fully in you, yet still has you squirming, you know you can take more— all of it. 

“I got you…” He hushes, right hand taking ahold of your right thigh, folding it in towards the side, the new angle has him fucking deeper into you just the way you like it with the both of you watching as you squeeze around him as he continues thrusting in and out of your pussy.

“Toru…right there— don’t stop....” You moan, your own finger now coming to play at your clit. Pussy becoming even more drenched and your whole body growing hot from the way he’s now hitting directly onto your g-spot. 

“Here?” He gives another deep thrust hitting your cervix and that has your back arching, a hand coming down to his stomach to push him back. 

“Don’t run from it…” He thrusts again, loving the way your mouth parts into an O shape and how tightly you clench down onto him. He spits on your pussy again, looking down you catch a creamy ring starting to form around his dick and that’s turning you on even more. You love this nasty shit, letting him it raw and sloppy, slutting you out this good you’ll do just about anything for him. 

“Hold your legs.” He grunts, and you take a hold of your thighs folding them in, his right hand coming down to rest flat onto your stomach holding you steady as his hips snap faster. “Keep playing with it…” He says, and you let go one thigh, keeping it raised to rub at your clit. 

As much as you love getting fucked from behind, you’re growing to love missionary just as much. Him caging you in, whispering the nastiest shit he comes up with into your ear, holding yourself open for him to thrust deeper into you, watching the way his dick works into you as you play with your clit. You don’t love this boy but you definitely love the way he lays pipe, fucking into you just right as if he’s already learnt the layout of your pussy. Arousal overtaking your entire body you slide a hand under your cami to grab at your boobs. Your thighs are now starting to tremble then the next thing you know you’re leaking wet fluid then squirting all over his dick. Tightening up so much he has to pull out.

“Shit— come back.” You pant, nails drenched along with the finger that was playing with your clit pruning. Sitting up some you move to wipe your hand on your stomach to get most of it off you. Taking his fingers to push through your folds he collects up just enough slick, bringing them to your mouth for you to suck clean and you happily oblige wrapping your lips around his two digits. 

“See how wet you are…” He draws his hand back, coming down to rub small quick circles into your pussy, then a few light taps producing a squish sound it’s wetness. “This how I want you to have it ready for me whenever I come see you.” He leans over to whispers into your ear, you’re then feeling him push back into you causing you to buck your hips up chasing his length and god…just the thought of being in your bedroom playing with your pussy, getting it all nice and wet for him before he comes through is taking you from one hundred to a thousand— it’s about time the slut comes out, no more slow shit, you want to fuck for real now. 

“Fuck me…c’mon…wanna cum.” You whine, and that has him taking a hold of your ass, scooting you down the bed closer to his hips quickening his pace, snapping his hips fast, helped by the curve of his dick hitting your g-spot with damn near perfect precision. 

“There— don’t stop.” You whine, yet your hands still come down to the tops of his thighs to push him back. 

“Stop running.” He collects both wrists into his hands, holding them down above your head as he begins to fuck into your mercifully, hips never stuttering.

“Spit on it again.” You beg, and he does. A fat wad that you feel drip down between your ass. You weren’t into getting your coochie spat on before but fuck it, you’re with all the nasty shit tonight. 

“You nasty baby, ain’t think you’d be into that shit. What else do you like, talk to me.” He pants, looking you straight in the eye as he says it, and you're blown away by how gorgeous he looks despite already looking spent with the front of his hair sweated out against his forehead. 

“Like when you spank m— ahh!” A hard slap then grip to your ass cuts you off, he thrusts into you deeper in response to your moan. “Fuck, do that again— mhmp!” 

Slap!

“Mmmm— what else?”

“Like when you grip me tight— on my waist…there just like that.” You stammer out, a hand coming down to squeeze where you showed him to hold. 

“Like when you put your hands around my neck— mmm like that…don’t choke me.” You moan, his large hand wrapping around your throat without any pressure, and you’re batting your eyes all pretty, biting your lip, clenching down on him in return. 

“You feel so fucking good…love how you fuck me…what it feel like for you?” 

“Feels amazing baby, every single time.” He grunts, deep thrusts followed by each of his last three words. “My pretty girl— you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Swear— not one bitch out here comes close to you.” He says clearly for you to hear— no believe it, and that has you dizzy, clinging onto him and letting out choked up moans that are music to his ears spurring him on.  

“Fuck— cum in me.” You moan, too fucked out to care about how you sound right now. You don’t want him to pull out this time, want him to take you however which way he wants, bury his dick deep and bust all up in you. 

“Mmm— want me too?” He teases, feeling his dick twitch inside you. 

“So bad….” You run a hand up into his hair, gripping his locks to bring him closer towards you.  “…wanna watch it drip out…want you to put it back in so you can keep going then cum in me again.”

“Ooooo— don’t say that…” He chuckles low, you can tell by the way his hips stutter that the thought of it is fucking his head up. 

“Serious…it’s your pussy— ahh!” Another hard slap to your ass cuts you off, “You said it’s mine now?” He grins wickedly, knows he’s got you slipping, can hear it in your voice.

“Been yours.” You spit back, tired of the teasing. “Said I’m your girl right? Treat it like it’s yours then, cum in me.”

“Heh— you don’t know what you’re saying.” He says low, and you hate that look in his eyes, like you’re out of your mind, too dick drunk and fucked stupid to know what you’re asking for. 

“Cum in m— ahh mmmh…t-think about you when you’re not here…want you to fuck me everyday— cum in me as much as you wa— shit ahh!” Another deep thrust that hits your cervix again, making you grip the sheets pressing your heels into the mattress to lower yourself, running from it. 

“Lemme be that girl for you…” You continue powering through, wrapping a leg over his back to lock him in. Your voice is needy and dripping with sex, you don’t care how you sound, you'll say anything to tip him over the edge and spill into you. 

“Stop talking…” His voice shakes, your own having an affect on him as you feel his dick twitch again up inside you. 

“Thought you like it when I talk…” You tease with a smile, he’s getting weak, you can tell you’re about to make him cum. 

“Not when you— stop that…” He pushes a hand down on your stomach as you clench around his dick again in an attempt to pull another reaction out of him.

“I was wrong about you…” He speaks up sounding more collected, taking a thumb to part your lips, then dragging down to take a hold of your chin to raise it up. “…you’re not shy…” He slows his thrusts, coming to a complete stop buried deep in you. Two hands come to caress the side of your face, then down your neck, running all over your chest and back up again as if he’s taking in the softness of your skin. “…you just ain’t ever have somebody turn you out…’least not the way I do.”  

You can’t help but smile at the fucking truth that is, a small giggle that you’re able to hold down almost coming up from within you.

“I’m not nutting in you tonight.” He states plainly, “But I can fuck you like the lil pornstar you’re tryna be…come lick it up real quick...I need a break I don’t wanna nut just yet.” He pulls out of your wrecked pussy, sitting back on his heels holding his dick in his hand ready for you to clean off.  

Lifting up with a breathy groan from how sore your thighs ache, you arch down low in front of him, taking him in your hand and squeezing roughly at the tip just the way he likes it, licking up every bit of yourself off him. 

“Bring it up for me…yeah.” He leans over you to grab your ass, and you’re raising it up higher for him to get a better grip.

“Get the front. Sides. All of it.” You do as he instructs, swirling your tongue as you stroke his dick then you’re wrapping your lips around him. About a minute or so later, once you're sure you’ve cleaned it all up, you’re pulling off with an audible pop and a smile on your face. 

“Turn…” He motions for you to move. You turn around, arching down low as he knees his way up the bed, his hands resting on either side of your ass, aligning his dick to your entrance. “Scoot back closer to me…right here…arch…lower…there you go.” He guides you down into position, hands rubbing up and down your back as he does so. 

Missionary great but backshots are even better. Love how it feels when he pushes in, hands pressing deep into the dimples of your back, dick hard and curving up into you fast, tight grip of his hands on your body working you down to feel every inch of his length.  

You don’t miss the string of curses he lets out as his hips slam up into you either, the sound of your ass clapping his hips as you fuck back onto him. Even the weight you’re putting on him is throwing his rhythm off to where he’s taking a hand to your shoulder to steady himself as he fucks into you like a bully. Just wait till I see you again— yeah that was code for ‘Imma bust your shit open’.

Slap!

“You got it baby— just like that.” He groans against your ear, followed by another hard slap against the underside of your thigh almost making you crawl up the bed. 

Slap!

“Uh-uh come on, keep pushing back.” He calls out, pushing you down further causing your legs to widen for him, giving more access to fuck into you. He’s so deep, degrading thrusts knocking up against your cervix with you panting out in a mix of pain and pleasure yet you love it so much. Love the way he fucks like you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever been in, tearing your shit up like he’s mad at you. 

This ain’t just fucking now, nah this is different, y’all screwing. The type of fucking you shouldn’t be doing with just anybody, likely as to why it feels so damn good this way. He ain’t your man just yet, but he’s definitely becoming your something. 

Arching with your chest completely flat against the mattress, you then bring a hand behind yourself to spread your cheeks apart, holding your pussy open for him with his hand coming to grab you at the wrist tight to hold you back. 

“Whose is it?” 

“Yours!” You cry out, taking your free hand down in between your legs to play at your clit. Face squished into the mattress, you can feel yourself drooling but you don’t care, you need to cum so bad. You’re almost there. 

“Uh-uh, say my name baby. Yours who?”

“Yours Gojo!” 

“Mmmm.” You hear him chuckle, pleased by the way his name sounds coming off your tongue. “What I gotta do, nut in you for you to remember?” 

“Yeah— go ’head do it.” You whine out looking back at him and holy shit the look on his face has you burning up even more, you can tell he’s trying his hardest to hold back from bussing. You fucked him enough times by now to know he’s close when his brows knit together like that. 

Lifting yourself up to hold onto your headboard for leverage, he comes up closer behind you, your back to his chest as he fucks up into you deep and hurried holding onto your breasts. The creak of your bed frame and squeak of your mattress coils adding to the pants and moans coming from the both of you. 

“Can’t even feel my dick— that’s how wet you are.” He breathes into your ear, your hands coming to cover his own two holding him closer, loving the way they feel grabbing and squeezing your tits.

“You really gonna let me cum in you one day?” He breathes, unsteady too and you love the sound of it— how he’s not shy to show how weak your pussy gets him. 

“Of course—”

“Fuck— I think I heard the door, your roommates might of came back.” He breathes out, yet neitherare stopping as he’s still fucking into you chasing his own orgasm.  

“Your bed is loud…we gotta slow down.” He warns, and you feel his pace start to slow, and that just won’t do— you need him to cum. You don’t give a fuck if your roommates hear, you spent too many nights hearing them get fucked. They can give you a damn pass. 

“Don’t stop— keep going.” You buck back, “ ‘ts your pussy…take it whenever you want…stop fucking worrying about shit.”

“Fuck you want them to hear you?” His hand comes up to your neck, wrapping around your throat a bit tight as he fucks you down onto his length picking his pace back up. 

“I don’t give a f— hmph!” You squeak, not expecting his hand to slap over your mouth to hold back your moans in an attempt to keep you quiet. He’s fucking into you relentlessly now, hips snapping like crazy as he chases his orgasm. Bringing your finger back down to continue rubbing circles into your clit you soon feel that familiar heat rise up your body, then the next thing you know you’re cumming and moaning in pleasure but he doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck up into your tore pussy. 

Dropping his hand from your mouth he presses you back to the mattress and after a few final thrusts he’s pushing off you with his back hitting the mattress, stroking his dick fast then cumming all over his knuckles and chest. 

“Shit— fuck!” He pants, white ropes of hot cum dripping off the side of his toned stomach. “We gotta chill…” He breathes out. “…I almost nutted in you.” He pants, completely fucked out.  

“I know…” You roll onto your back besides him, watching as he gives his dick a couple more strokes, squeezing the last bit of cum out of him, slowly dripping down his dick. 

Post nut clarity is starting to hit. He’s right, y’all need to chill…your ass isn’t on birth control, and you haven’t told him that yet either. You know in your heart he’s the last person you want to have to send a ‘I need to tell you something’ text too.

Reaching around for your phone, you glance at the time to see it’s just past midni— for more, read the rest of the chapter here…

[evilminji]

You know that Post about Danny becoming the False Villian, Expose?

To train all these kids, who are running around with shitty priorities and the self preservation instincts of lemmings? Because they were arrogant. Didn't listen to the concerns of those they "protect". Didn't listen to the concerns of a fellow Hero. So now, they WILL learn, at the hands of a "Villian".

Cause he TRIED pointing things out nicely.

Was met with a brick wall of condescension and dismissal.

THAT post.

You know where he would not only do that, but go APESHIT into it? Because he is a Hero and holy SHIT these kids are gonna get themselves killed? Gonna kill somebody ELSE? Have fucked up priorities and live in a fucked up system they do not even question?

Boku No Hero Academia.

Why the FUCK are you posing for the cameras? Why the absolute FUCK are you beating that man down on the worst day of his life, instead of TALKING him down? Why are you jumping too conclusions and splitting up and playing for the crowds? Why. The ABSOLUTE AND UNFORGIVING FUCK do you seem to ASSUME that every innocent soul, that doesn't look default generic human, is the AGGRESSOR in every situation you arrive at?!

Danny would have a conniption. Just a full body rage seizure, as his Ghost-y lil brain LIT UP with the BURNING NEED to fix everything, everywhere, at once. Right. Now.

But do they listen?

Ha!

Cool, cool cool cool cool..... he's gonna burn the entire country dow- No! That way lies Dan! Breathe, Fenton. Just.... Breathe. You can fix this.

The older ones may be set in their ways, but the younger ones are still learning. They can get better. BE better. They're kids. They just need opportunities to grow. And they WANT to be Heros, right? All he has to do is show them HOW. Poke their weak spots and point out their mistakes.

He can do that!

And just? Out of NO WHERE? This foreign villian decends upon Japan? What's worse, seeming to TARGET HEROS STUDENTS. Young, just debuted, Heros. Everyone freaks out. Older Heros closing rank, where they can, to try and Protect These Kids(tm).

But they can't be everywhere at once.

And this menace? Seemingly CAN be. Can make copies of himself. Use Ice. Fly. Energy beams. Intangiblity. Invisibility! What monster are they DEALING with?! That plays the flamboyant fool, dispensing deadly peril, only to then turn around, and in chilling sobriety absolutely destroy seasoned heroes?

That LECTURES them while doing it.

He's undermining the people's faith in the system!

(But should they have faith in it? Doesn't he have good points? Aren't they getting stronger, faster, better heroes for facing him? Where did he come from? Hasn't anyone else noticed that not a single civilian has gotten hurt, at his hands? That he annihilates any true villians foolish enough to think he's on their side?)

(How many "thugs" and "minor villians" have these guys not noticed, they wonder, who have just... disappeared. Come into contact with this guy and then? Stopped. Turned up somewhere else, weeks later, healthy again. Smiling with illegal lifestyle support gear, a new job, a new life, and better future. Finally free of the violence.)

Amity may be at peace by the time Danny turns 20(-ish? Maybe? Is he? Clockwork! How old IS he? You've sent him on so many of your weird timebend-y missions he lost count!). But? Danny is a Heroic Protector Spirit. His Obsession has demands. And his Human sides Space Obsession will never really be quite strong enough to support him.

You know, since it can't die.

Just because it HAS a Soul aspect to it, doesn't mean it'll ever come into practical use. So? The more powerful Heroic instincts it is! And honestly, he wasn't even planning to STAY. Just check the place out. You know, compare his options. But... *twitch*

They Are Doing It Wrong.

So now he lives here!

.....it's awful! They don't even have any space exploration! No studying, no stars, no futuristic moon base! Nothing! And he doesn't even SPEAK Japanese! In human form? He has no idea what anyone is saying! At least the Sorta-But-Not skeleton Ghost guy across the hall is helping. Dude might be taller then his DAD. Seriously ecto-starved though. It's like he somehow GAVE all his body's ecto to someone else!

How's he supposed to heal like that?! Guy really needs to learn how to take care of himself.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Heat Waves

August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation

It's fucking hot. 

The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.

There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.

Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 

The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.

Just. Be this way.

At least no one will see him here in the dark.

Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 

Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 

The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.

He's sure of it.

Temporary his ass.

But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.

Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.

Assholes.

It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.

Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.

The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.

It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.

His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.

But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.

Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.

But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.

He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."

And that's when he hears it, a whine.

Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.

He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.

But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.

"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.

"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."

Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.

"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.

Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."

"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"

Steve nods.

Fucking hell.

Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.

Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.

His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 

Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 

Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,

And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.

Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.

Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 

"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.

"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"

Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.

Oh, fuck.

He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"

And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.

Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.

Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.

This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.

Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.

Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.

Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.

It's all so fucking good.

Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.

And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.

They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[mastermindmiko]

Milestones

Pairing: Fred Weasley + fem!reader

summary: A small blurb of a night at the burrow in bed with Fred

Word count: 762

Warnings: none, but lmk

Requests are open

I wrote this in a grand total of fifteen minutes at 1am, so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and let me know

masterlist

"I'm sorry about my family" Fred whispers so low that I almost don't hear him. I move my head to the side to face him with a frown. I ask, "what?"

"They can be a little much sometimes I know." Fred continues and I find myself even more confused. I place one of my hand's to his face and I ask, "what makes you say that?"

He doesn't say anything, but I don't press, hoping that he will say something anyway. I rub my thumb in soft circles over his cheek, and I shuffle a bit under the covers. He holds my wrist, taking my hand off his face to press a kiss to my palm. Even after dating for a while now, I still get butterflies.

"I've been told that my family comes on a bit strong. Mom with her affection, dad with all his muggle gadgets, Charlie with the dragons-" Fred starts but I cut him off, unable to hear him say anything else, "Fred, no don't say that. I love your family."

"Really?" Fred asks, hesitantly. I nod my head eagerly, and ask, "what made you think that Fred?"

"I wanted you to like me- I didn't want my family to freak you out." Fred replies with a small blush on his cheeks. I smile at him and say, "if you haven't noticed Fred I do like you, that's why I'm your girlfriend."

"Hopefully it stays that way." Fred mumbles as he pulls me closer to him. I nuzzle my face into his chest as he wraps his arms around me. He rests his chin on my head and I don't think I've ever felt more relaxed. He asks, "well aside from my family, how was your day?"

"It was good, I read a new book, it was great." I say as I recall the events of what I'm sure is now one of my favourite books. Fred says, "you can tell me all about it tomorrow."

"But nothing else really, what about you?" I ask him lifting my head up so I can look at his gorgeous brown eyes. He smiles and says, "George and I found a good location for the shop, it's in diagon alley and above it, there is a good apartment-it's all within the budget of course."

"Fred, that's great. I'm so excited for you." I beam at the wonderful news, and I can see that mischievous and excited look in his eyes, the same one he always had when he was about to prank someone, except that this time it was bigger.

"The apartment is great too, two bathrooms, two bedrooms- that is if you don't mind us sharing the apartment with George" Fred rambles, and I blink for a second before realising. I tease, " Fredrick gedion weasley! Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?"

He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. He says, " I kind of hoped that you wouldn't notice and just say yes. Things have been going well, I just thought that it was time- unless of course you don't want to-"

"Of course I want to, you idiot." I cut him off and nuzzle my head back into his chest. He wraps his arms more tightly around me and he presses a kiss to the top of my head and whispers, "good."

"Its got a big kitchen too since I know you like to bake." Fred says like he's still trying to convince me to move in with him, I would move in with him into a swamp if he asked me to. I reply, "Just some anxiety cookies no big deal."

"It doesn't matter what's their cause what matters is that they're damn good and by the way I love you" He says quickly that I almost don't catch it. My goes go wide and I look up at him and tease, "Crossing off a lot of big milestones today, Fred. What's next you're gonna pop out an engagement ring then tell me you're pregnant"

"Haha very funny" He replies, sarcastically, avoiding my gaze. I continue with a wide grin, I still can't believe he said it, "No seriously should I buy baby clothes, get you my ring size-"

"Go to sleep, love." He whispers before turning to the side to close the bedside lamp. I'm still smiling when I say, "Okay."

I wait a few seconds before pressing a knee to his cheek and wrapping my arms around his torso. I say, cheerfully, "I love you too by the way, goodnight."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

…One Erik freebie?

Y'all. My NSA agent has had to read so many of my horny thots this week. He's gonna die.

"No child should suffer," you say defiantly, raising your chin.

"These freaks-"

"Children." you grind out, spitting a mouthful of blood at the anti mutant guerilla's feet. Ignoring the pain in your face and your shoulders.

"You're one of them," he scoffs, cracking you in the face again as he drags you to your feet.

To that, you don't respond. You're not. You're just a human. A normal human. You just don't discriminate when you hand out food, clothes, and blankets to street kids who need help. But- the line you and your team have always agreed to stick to is one that's hard to prove. If you're captured, your gift is persuasion.

Mutant rights groups don't care what you're doing and will help you take care of the mutant kids. Human kids you can help via 'proper' channels. It's only these idiots that give a fuck. And if they kill you, it's egg on their face.

Killing one of their own. Killing someone who's helping ALL the kids. It's a bad look. Hard to spin.

You can only hope that your team follows the plan. Does what they're supposed to do. And as they throw you into the back of the van, you hope they make it quick. Idiots are notoriously bad murderers.

What you don't count on is that one of your kids saw the whole thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No child should suffer."

Erik watched the video shown to him by the trembling 13 year old boy. A boy cast out by his family- too young to be a revolutionary and not yet scooped up by Charles.

He watched your defiance. And frowned, "Mutant?" he asked, his voice dangerous.

"Human, I can smell it," the boy answered. "Nice. Miss Y/N always makes sure we know where we can get food. And makes sure we have clothes'n stuff. Helped me get a backpack af'er mine got took. Has a whole team."

"Interesting," Erik mused.

The boy swallowed hard, "Never turns us away. Ever. Even has a nurse to help us- she comes Tuesday and Thursday."

Erik regarded him and nodded. He looked close to tears. And Erik understood. In a world where it was so hard to find any kindness, someone who gave it with no expectations was rare. "Where did they take her?"

"I lost the van when it went down 9th," the boy said hanging his head, "I couldn't-" Erik laid a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Whether he saved you or not, the boy had given him information on an Anti-mutant cell. And that was important. "I will find her," he said. "And this will not go unpunished."

"No child should suffer."

Indeed not. And while he didn't like humans, a good human. One who was TRYING couldn't just be left to die for trying. If MUTANTS were the one who saved her and NOT humans? Well. All the better for him.

[soupbabe]

Hey! So recently I was thinking back to the cannibal! reader with stu, and I was wondering if you can do that with the Sinclair siblings (separate ofc) with an s/o that’s a cannibal

The Sinclair Brothers with a Cannibal! S/o

Tbh cannibal reader is one of my fav kinds of reader to write <3 Honestly, these aren't the most romantic headcanons around, they're silly at most 😅

Warning: mentions and talk of blood and guts I guess lmao, the title is enough warning

Bo Sinclair

- Okay yeah Bo isn't known for his moral compass but I know that you were able to freak him out

- Today was rough, he's been chasing and going after a victim that he was sure slipped through his fingertips So to make him feel better you made him some chilli, not quite telling him what was in it yet

- He'd air out his grievances with his failure and you reassure him that you caught them for him...just to tell him that you're eating them right now.

- His eyes go wide as he spits out his food, he's more mad that you didn't tell him what's in his food than the actual act

- After Bo's initial shock calms down, he'll pull you close and kiss your forehead, telling you that you did a good job hunting and am even better job at cooking <3

- though if we're being honest it still traumatized him just a lil bit. From now on, everytime you serve him something with meat, he's side eyeing it and poking it around to make sure it wasn't someone he thought Vincent nabbed first

Vincent Sinclair

- I do think that you and Vincent would argue time to time just because of how protective he can be around the bodies

- He can't afford a body part to go missing for his sculptures, his brothers can't count on their hands the amount of times Vincent has nagged them for damaging the victims so severely

- Ignore that he has canonically decapitated a guy with no issue shh

- So there's a new rule for the two of you: first come first serve. Whoever captures and kills first gets to keep it.

- Honestly it's like a fun little game between you two, something to bond over

- Though I'd imagine there are moments where Vincent is sweet on you and tries to harvest some meat for you, sew his victims back up, and use them like they're good as new <3

Lester Sinclair

- I think he surprises himself with how calm he is when he sees you eating out of the not-100%-roadkill pile when you first meet. He knows what you're eating isn't deer or squirrel

- Sure, it's not something he'd ever think he'd ever see, he's keeping a knife close as he gets closer and takes you in

- I can't explain it but it's not that Lester is accepting and no judgemental of your diet, it's more that he's learned over the years to just not question things and to roll with the punches

- He likes to keep his s/o satisfied, he wants to make sure you at least eat your food safely and healthily

- So he hatches a plan to lurk outside Ambrose, wait for those who get to escape the twins, only for them to get "accidentally" ran over.

- Lester is such a sweetheart and is willing to wait all night for escapes and maybe a hitchhiker if he's desperate. He's always making sure that you're gonna be fed and stocked up for the next week <3

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 7 thoughts

hmm. hmm. that is the sound if me pondering what i just watched.

(i understand that this episode was an analysis into mulder's self-destructive behaviors when faced with overwhelming grief, but. that does not mean i enjoyed vampire hookup time)

well. we shall start from the top!

i read that it was an episode about vampires which i thought was a weird narrative choice because. hello. scully still gone??? but then i remembered that i too ignored the main quest in skyrim to hunt some vampires and that i had no place to judge

(granted, my main quest wasn't finding scully though. might have given that a bit more priority than saving the whole world. because she IS my whole world)

we open with a guy that looks like joe biden meeting with an attractive young woman. they're making out in a hot tub and we just know someone is gonna get slurped upon. and woe, it be upon us! double vampire attack.

back in DC, mulder gets his old office back! it's covered in plastic. he takes some of it off. he adjusts his calendar from may to november, so we see how much time he and scully had been assigned to other tasks, which also has me wondering how she managed to get a new house that quick.

(also, this calendar is... scantily clad women posing next to tools such as hammers and saws. was this allowed? was this acceptable? was it normal? were the 90's a lawless wasteland and mulder an irreparable freak?)

well. scully is an x file now, and he puts her glasses and id into an evidence bag and closes the filing cabinet which was sooooo evil. but he can't bring himself to put her necklace away. oh man. oh he's gotta have it in case he finds her. he has to hold her close. i'm Fine this is Fine.

so. he goes out to california to deal with the joe biden looking fellow being murdered. and he is not wanted on the crime scene. we know this because someone greets him by saying "nobody called the bureau" and he says "well, they should have" and lifts up the tape to let himself in. because one thing about him is that he's gonna let himself into a place he isn't wanted.

he sees the writing of a bible verse in blood on the wall and says something about their grasp of biblical knowledge being "feeble and literal" and i was like okayyy need to have a theological discussion with him

he then scares the other guy who originally wanted to kick him out by reciting a LARGE amount of facts related to similar cases and it's very much giving photographic memory. got me thinking, have we ever seen this man forget something? (directions don't count. they're confusing. but everything else sticks in that man's brain)

he just needs one thing: a phone book. which he uses to call a blood bank and ask about a new guy. who must be the vampire who did this!

so he rolls up to the blood bank and i'm over here struggling because i do Not Do Blood, and i knew at this point this was gonna be a tough watch, but i didn't anticipate the non-blood related reasons why this would be true

anyway he's sniffing around the blood bank and he hears some slurping and wouldn't you know, this dude is tearing into a bag of the red stuff like it's a capri sun. somehow he gets him into custody, where the dude refuses to talk because the lights are on, and mulder comes in with a lamp he put a red filter over, because he was prepared for vampire interrogation.

the vampire is going on about how what he did isn't murder because it's not like animals hunting prey is murder which is. not the greatest approach in terms of legal defense. mulder tells the guard that the guy is delusional and it's best to play along, and he believed this to be true... until he, quite literally, burned to a crisp in the sunlight. and died.

he's talking to the coroner and rattling off a bunch of vampire facts and says he didn't believe in vampires which is so funny to me because like. why is that where you draw the line, my friend. not at bigfoot and definitely not at aliens. but man. vampires are just too out there for spooky mulder. until now!

the coroner has a very funny line: "you are really upsetting me... on several levels" which seems to be the general effect fox mulder has on people. and also because i felt the same way about his dumbass actions during this episode.

coroner finds a stamp on the dead body's hand, which seems to come from a nightclub. so naturally our fbi agent ends up there.

you often see posts saying that "(insert character here) should be at the club". i fear that this is not the case for fox mulder, but it's possible that it's his suit and tie that are throwing me off. he just doesn't seem like he belongs there. i ask myself, where should he be instead? perhaps some sort of star wars convention would suit him better. a book signing with some author he likes. idk, an interior decorating festival. not here.

i shall use my verbatim words to walk you through the next scene:

"pause. he's talking to a woman who was looking into a compact without a mirror. so. vampire suspect. and now why are they getting so close together. and getting a drink. okay now they're leaving to a new spot together? AFTER she admits to vampirism"

(here she did some stuff that required me to look away from my screen due to my Weak Constitution. but also it would have felt necessary to look away anyway because it was getting... charged)

she tries to get him to... suck on her finger... but he won't do it because aids. which is fair. i think that's a smart move, actually. it's just that getting flirty with a vampire he knows was involved with a ton of killings was such a stupid move, i don't know why it's now the braincells start to kick in.

that kills the vibe, though, so she gets another guy to take his place and things escalate.

mulder pulls in at a restaurant called ra. nice! the sun god! and he is... through a window, witnessing some more slurping action. he seems to want to intervene and save this poor soul being feasted upon...

but the poor soul is no poor soul at all! he comes out and decks mulder, and delivers this line with stunning conviction: "i don't know who you are, freak, but we're two consenting adults" and with this, he is forced to flee.

and yeah. it made me laugh. my expectations for the genre were subverted. he signed up for that shit! what he did not sign up for, however, was the next part, where he was killed by the other vampires.

cut to investigating the crime scene. mulder has brought along a forensic dentist, which is a job i had no idea you could go into. he needs to see about those bites, which are very human.

next they go to vampire woman's house. it's a very nice place. mulder... opens her oven. and sees a loaf of bread in there. and i'm thinking, man, i hope this doesn't go where i think it's going. baked goods... ovens... i never want a vampire pregnancy arc. but he cracks open the loaf and something red spills out and somehow, this to him means that she is gone and isn't coming back. he can read the signs of the bread. so add that to his resume. what did the bread tell you, my liege?

he seems to have stayed in her house, however, because he's there when she's back, and says he knows she was using the bread as a charm to ward off evil. because apparently that's an eastern european thing, blood bread to warn off evil. sound off if any eastern europeans in the chat wanna confirm or deny.

anyway. he's IN this woman he thinks is a vampire's HOUSE? what the hell. mulder seriously i need you to stop and think. like you should have stopped and done some thinking a while ago. honestly i'm not mad i'm just disappointed. and he's like "i want to save you come with me before they kill you" ohhh big tough man needs to save her huh. make him feel good inside. huh. certainly no ulterior motive here...

she's monologing about her horrible childhood and how sweet blood tastes. um girl. don't lie to him like that. i have busted my lip open before that stuff does NOT taste sweet and dangerous. it's like a penny with rust that you found in a parking lot.

it seems her vampiric origin story, if to be believed, is that things simply got too kinky. which is a new take on the genre.

(it's also about being caught in an abusive relationship and the damage that inflicts, but it seems abusive boyfriend came into vampirism at his kinky parties and things escalated from there. which. well. it blew the eyebrows clean off my head, to be fair)

at this point we see that he is WEARING SCULLY'S NECKLACE? he says something like "it's from someone i lost" and she says that she "hopes he finds her"

i did not like the undertones here and certainly not the overtones. because i knew where this was going. he was shaving in her bathroom. and let me tell you something: there is only ever a shaving scene in media because the writer needs a way to get some blood out of someone's body and into the real world. and man. i knew it was coming.

but what i didn't see coming was her SHAVING HIM??? girl. i am uncomfy. and she does, of course, cut him, and then they kiss. aggressively. terribly aggressively. can anyone answer what was going on in a satisfactory manner?

but the gag is: the original vampire- who burnt to a crisp in the jail cell, and was the abusive ex she spoke of- HE'S WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW!

he breaks in and taunts the vampire woman about how he had to "wait for her to finish" and i was like cool. thank you SO much for that mental image i'm super happy with it. i definitely don't feel like i need a shower. but then he's going on about how he can't be killed.

here, at the tail end of the episode, we learn the rules of vampirism in this world: a vampire cannot be killed by a non-vampire. and a non-vampire BECOMES a vampire by consuming the blood of a believer and also taking a life. it is only here we realize that this woman is not an actual vampire yet, she just appropriates their culture by drinking blood unnecessarily.

mulder's still sleeping in her bed and she's like "you need to leave" and she stabs the wall to make her evil ex think she's killing him. but when they go to break out, mulder ties him up quite handily and he gets in the car to escape with vampire woman. until ANOTHER vampire woman jumps on the hood of their car. and main vampire woman knocks her out for a bit by running into her with said car, which is super effective.

mulder's leaving the place in shambles, his shirt still unbuttoned, wandering down the side of the hill. back at the house, now that we know the vampire rules, main vampire woman says she can finally kill the evil vampire ex. and he's like how!! you haven't had the blood of a believer or taken a life. so. she licks the blood off her hands (unclear if it's hers or mulders tbh) and says she'll take her own life. and drops a match after pouring gasoline.

so. that brings that to an end. and shabby looking mulder sits on a hill as he learns all four in the house died.

the episode ends with him playing with scully's necklace. which i don't even sort of feel like unpacking right now but maybe another time.

probably not, though, because i just didn't like this episode. and yeah, a lot of it comes down to me not wanting to see mulder hook up with people who aren't scully. can you blame me? is it so wrong to have preferences in this world?

but also, narrative wise- do you honestly see the guy fucking off to cali while scully's still missing to deal with an unrelated problem instead of devoting every hour of his life to finding her, like we saw him do in the last episode? you expect me to think he just puts it off for a lil while? the guy who, just last episode, pulled his gun on the ski lift operator to get to the top where she might be a little faster, and then choked his one and only suspect out of fury? you're thinking this is the guy that's gonna go soak up some west coast rays?

and yeah, he was obviously not himself through the episode- very cold and analytical- but c'mon. we all want to bang a vampire. he's not special. i just personally wouldn't do that if my friend were gone. like how is that gonna help the situation. be so for real. time and place!

and also the whole only learning the rules of being a vampire about 5 minutes before they need it to be plot relevant. that annoyed me too.

overall, mulder, like i said, i'm not mad, just disappointed.

let me know what you thought on this episode- i try to not be a hater, but i also understand that hating in small doses can be good for the soul. if it's a widely beloathed episode i'll feel better in my judgement as i join a long tradition of haters who have come before me.

[czrpenters]

all the things she said | sam carpenter x reader

summary: sam could be impulsive sometimes and you hated it.

warnings: slight scream vi spoilers, but nothing too big. angst with smut at the end. top!sam & bottom!reader. english is not my first language.

pairings: sam carpenter x fem!reader.

word count: 2.3k words.

masterlist | request rules.

It felt way too good to be true, to be completely honest.

You were a survivor, a fighter. When the Woodsboro attacks happened again, you were there. You survived. You got stabbed in your back 4 times and it damaged your nerve. You would never walk normally again. But you still survived. Liv and Wes couldn't say the same. And you were so grateful that life, god, fate, whatever you wanna call it, gave you a second chance.

So, like any sane person would, you and your friends decided to leave Woodsboro behind. All of the trauma and the pain should stay right there, where it belonged. You all needed a fresh start. Chad and Tara enrolled into college, Sam finally started therapy and Mindy got a girlfriend, just like you did. You started to work in NYC as a photographer and, surprisingly enough, started dating Sam. Like I've said; way too good to be true.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You said while getting up from the couch. A ghostface attack, on an alley. A college professor died brutaly. She was young, so freaking young to just die in the hands of an asshole with a mask on. "Guys, I think y'all need to see this..."

You said, grabbing the attention of the Core Four (horrible name, by the way), making them leave the kitchen and watch the news with you. The room once filled with laughter got quiet all of a sudden. Tara was in the verge of tears, Mindy was shaking. Chad couldn't even speak. But Sam was the only one who took action and said something. "Pack your shit, we're leaving."

Your girlfriend fled the room, going to the kitchen to grab her knife and to start packing up her stuff, but you followed her. "Yeah, no? We can't do that, Sam. We can't just, leave!"

"Like hell we can't." She finally grabbed her knife and went to her bedroom.

"You think we're gonna be safe if we leave? He followed us, Sam! What makes you think he's not going to again?" She didn't even listened to you, just started packing her stuff like you weren't even there. You put both of your hands on the top of the suitcase, preventing her from continuing. "Stop this and listen to me, babe."

"Don't call me that in front of them, (Y/N)." You rolled your eyes.

"Fuck that, no one is fucking here. I already know you're ashamed of me, you don't need to remind me." Sam looked at you, with a tired look on her face. Here we go again, she thought.

"You know that I'm not ashamed of you, (Y/N). It's complicated and you know it." You huffed, closing the door so you both could have some privacy. "Complicated my ass, Samantha. You don't wanna be seen with me and that's fucking fine, I can handle it. What I can't handle is the fact that you don't take my opinion into consideration!" You ran you hands through her hair and took a deep breath. "We cannot just fucking leave here, Sam! Tara has her life here, she wants to be freaking normal and that's not gonna happen if you move us around the country like we're fucking nomads." She tried to speak but of course, you didn't let her. "Plus, we need to know what we're dealing with! Who we're dealing with! They may wanna come after you again, and if they do, they're not gonna just give up. They're gonna follow us if we don't stop them, Sam. You know I'm fucking right."

"I am trying to do what is best for my family, (Y/N). We're going to fucking die if we go through this shit again!" She raised her voice at you. So she wants to fight, huh?

"And I'm not, Sam?! Is that what you fucking mean? That I wanna stay here because I want all of us to die?"

"Tara doesn't fucking need this anymore! Not again! We're leaving New York and that's final!" She started packing her bags again, making you angrier by the minute.

"I'm sorry to say that but that's not how life fucking works! We are a family, Sam! We get to make all of our decisions together!"

"No, (Y/N)! We are not a fucking family! Tara and I are family, you're not. So just stop trying to decide what is best for us and leave us the hell alone!" She screamed loudly, looking at you with rage in her eyes. Hearing all of that shit from her broke your heart into million pieces. She was right, you were not her family. You felt your eyes start to water and it made you laugh, ironically. Sam realised what she just said, and the expression on her face just softened. "(Y/N), I..."

"You're so fucking right, Sam. I'm not your family. You don't even have the guts to tell people we're dating, so I guess you're right." You said, smiling through the pain. "You know what? If you really want to, I'll leave you alone."

You opened the door, grabbing your jacket and keys, getting ready to leave the apartment. Sam didn't even tried to stop you; she just stood there, speechless. All of them heard you fight, but they also didn't said anything, until you were just about to leave. "(Y/N), don't go out. Ghostface is out there, you know it's not safe. He might..." Chad started but you interrupted him.

"Kill me? Yeah, I'm aware. But I just learned today that it wouldn't make a fucking difference if he did." And then you left, going to god knows where.

--

It has been a couple of hours since you fought with Sam. She's been trying to contact you and left, literally, more than 100 messages on your phone, but you didn't replied to any of them. You were too hurt to reply to any of them. You just found a bar downtown and drank the whole night. Thank goodness you didn't got drunk that easily, otherwise you wouldn't even be standing still right now.

"It was hard to find you." You heard someone say behind you, making you turn around. It was Sam. Her eyes looked puffy, like she's been crying for hours, a heartbreaking scene to be honest, but you didn't said anything and took a gulp of your whisky. "I had to track down your phone, like, a million times..."

"Sam, I-" You tried, but she interrupted you immediately. "I just wanna talk, okay?" You huffed and look straight ahead, letting her sit right next to you. "I hate it when you drink."

"Well, I guess we're both disappointed right now." You laughed ironically which made Sam take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for what I've said. Truly. I was upset, and scared. We all are. Just come back home so we can talk about all of this." She pleaded, holding your hand over the bar table. "And you're absolutely right. I don't need to hide anymore. You make me happy, (Y/N). Happier than I've ever been in so fucking long. I don't need for this, for us, to be a secret. And I'm so sorry for making you feel like I was ashamed of you."

"I know that, don't worry. It's fine." You held her hand and kissed the back of it. "You know that we can't go, Sam. We need to stay here and figure out who is behind all of this." She nodded.

"I know... It just scares the shit out of me. I don't want to go through this again, I don't want Tara to go through this again. I don't want you go through this because of me."

"Stop it, okay? This is not your fault, baby. They're just some psychopaths with a mask on who have nothing better to do." You kissed her hand again. "We're gonna get through this, like we always did. And plus, I wouldn't mind killing another ghostface." You joked, making her smile a little. The most beautiful smile in the world, you dared to say. "Come on, let's go home."

--

"I fucking KNEW IT!" Mindy yelled, pointing at you while laughing a little. "I've always felt some sapphic vibes from you both, damn. The gaydar never fails."

"And why you waited until now to tell us? Especially now, actually, with the whole ghostface shit going on." Tara asked, making Sam look at you then her.

"I don't know. It's just, ever since Richie, it felt weird and stupid to date again. I thought I'd never trust anyone ever again. It felt safe having this little secret, for some reason. And I'm sorry from keeping this from you, really." She said, while holding your hand. It felt good to finally reveal the secret. You guys could, actually, hold hands in public. And kiss, and call each other pet names. It felt really freaking good.

You guys stayed up all night talking and drinking, the six of you. Anika got really close with you guys so she felt like family at that moment. It made you guys forget for a few hours about anything that was going on, especially ghostface.

After a while, Chad, Anika and Mindy decided to leave. It was getting pretty late and they didn't wanted to walk around the city late at night out of fear. Tara decided to study a little bit, and your roommate Quinn was at some hookup's house being sex positive, or whatever that means.

"Did you do it for me?" You asked, while looking at Sam. She was changing into some more comfortable clothes while you were laying down in your bed. It felt nice to finally share a room with her instead of Tara, to be honest. "Did what, babe?"

"Told them. If you really wanted to be a secret, still, I could handle it..." She smiled at you and walked towards you, laying down on top of your body.

"I wanted to tell them, babe. Seriously. It feels nice to finally be out there, too. I didn't wanted you to think that I did it because of our fight, or ghostface, or anything. I did it because I love you, (Y/N). You're my girl. I want everybody to know that." She whispered the last part, getting closer and closer to your face while she talked. You could feel her hot breath against your skin, and her mouth looked incredibly kissable at that moment.

"Don't do that." You mumbled, looking at her eyes. "Do what?"

"This. It makes me... feel things." You always felt so shy in front of Sam. She had this whole protective aura around her, that it made you actually want to be protected by her. It turned you on, even. "Feel what, babe?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Sam..." You diverged you look to the wall, but she held you chin between her index and thumb, making you forcibly look at her. Her eyes were darker now, filled with something that you knew exactly what it was.

"It turns you on, huh? When I call you mine?" She got closer, if that was possible, making your lips rub against each other. Her free hand made its way to your stomach, then your thighs, and your legs. Without ceremony, her hand got into your pants, fitting like it really belonged there. You were already embarrassingly wet by now, which made Sam smile a little. "Oh, you're already like this, babe? I didn't do anything, yet."

"You know you don't need to do nothing, Sam..." You swallowed, closing your eyes. You were completely at her mercy and she knew it, and knowing her, she would take advantage of that pretty soon.

Sam started to make circular movements on you clit, over your soaked panties. It made you shiver and tremble under her body, which made her laugh slightly. The way you were moaning softly to not starle Tara in the other room was heavenly, she loved being the one making you moan like this. "Sam..."

"Hm?" She replied, innocently. "M-More..."

She promptly obeyed, entering your panties and sliding one digit into you, making you gasp and arch you back. You were holding back your moans like crazy but let one slip. "Shhh... Tara is right in the other room; we don't want her to hear that, hm?"

You shook your head no, looking at her. Her eyes were filled with lust and desire; you could almost feel how much she wanted you right now. She started to pump her finger inside of you, starting slowly; then increasing the pace gradually. "Fuck, Sam..."

"You feel so good around my fingers, baby. So fucking tight... " She said while kissing your neck, leaving some love bites all over your skin. "You're fucking made for me, and only me."

"Only you..." You admited, without even thinking straight. She made you feel at cloud nine, all of the pleasure was something that only she made you feel. She added another finger, thrusting them inside of you deeper by the minute. You were spending all of your energy in holding back your moans, and you would hate if Tara walked in on both of you. Sam felt your pussy tighten around her fingers, making her smile slyly. "Come on, baby... Cum for me."

That was everything you needed to hear to finally release on her fingers, with a loud moan that you couldn't supress this time. Sam rode your orgasm perfectly, putting her own fingers into her mouth when you were done. "Delicious."

"You're unbelievable, Sam." You tried to say, out of breath. She held your chin and kissed you slowly, lovingly. "And you love it."

Before you could say anything, you heard some knocks on the wall next to you. "There are people trying to study here! Go be all porn-huby somewhere else!" Tara yelled, making you widen your eyes and blush. "I'll never leave this room again, Sam."

⠀

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

(3) WHAT LOVE DID THEN, LOVE DOES NOW ─── rowan laslow ☾𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “They wanted each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound.” — ‘These Violent Delights’, Micah Nemerever.

pairing. rowan laslow x vampire!reader

summary. a certain someone approaches you and rowan. (1) (2) (3)

warnings. swearing, mention of sex + death, spoilers for wednesday s1

word count. 3k

iii. 

You completely - and I mean totally, wholly, entirely - underestimated Enid Sinclair’s gossiping capabilities.

The both you had expected her to tell a few people, maybe, just get it out there that, “wow, Rowan and [Name], are, like, totally boning, oh, and he’s a vampire now.”

The whole nonchalant gossiping thing. You’ve seen it happen — aw, Bianca’s dating Xavier, oh, wait, they're over; Davina and Sinclair’s older brother were caught after curfew, that’s nice; one of the fangs knocked out a normie on Outreach Day, go them! 

You didn’t know how out of proportion things could get. You were no expert on gossiping - that was Yoko’s thing. 

Maybe it was because she was younger than you. These days, being older than two centuries felt like you were a fucking senior citizen. 

By next morning, several Fangs had knocked on your door asking about you and Rowan. By pure ‘coincidence’, Rowan would walk by the door, or maybe he’d call you back to ‘bed’, and the inquisitive Fangs in question would gasp, quickly say goodbye, and leave.

In actuality, you and Rowan had practiced this after the first fellow Vampire had come by and asked. By some terrible stroke of luck, Weem’s had permitted Rowan to move out of his dorm with Xavier Thorpe and move into your empty one, as your whole reason for turning him had been to stay together forever.

Ugh. Curse Weems and her disgustingly romantic heart. 

When the two of you arrived in your first period (you in Latin, Rowan in Fencing), you had been bombarded with either questions or whispers (you with questions, Rowan surrounded by whispers, which didn’t really bother him. It was like a regular day of being an outcast freak, except now, instead of laughing behind his back, everyone shied away from his gaze.) 

You reconvened at lunch, hiding in your dorm to take a break from everyone’s unabashed staring. Even on your way to Karnstein Hall, people popped up left and right, scrambling from their place across the room to see you two up close — holding hands, of course, as you had to keep up appearances.

“So,” you said, putting down your dorm keys on your bedside table, “How was your morning?”

“Ugh,” Rowan groaned, flopping down onto his bed across from yours — which was still bare, as he’d moved in just the night before — “don’t even ask. I was okay with the whispers, but by third period Seance I had people coming up to me and asking for details.”

You shrugged off your Nevermore zip-up, throwing it onto your bed. “God, I saw Davina eyeing me from across the greenhouse - I thought I was gonna get sirened into spilling secr—“

A sharp knock rapted at your cherry-wood door, interrupting your ranting. The both of you paused, far too tired to deal with any more questions. 

“[Name], Rowan, I know you’re in there.” A familiar voice said, before knocking once more. Immediately, your expression grew alarmed.

It was Wednesday Addams knocking on your door. 

You inched closer to the door, hand hesitantly grasping around the brass knob. From behind you, Rowan looked like he’d rather die again than open the door.

He had told you about his mother’s painting and her psychic abilities - the reason why he had attempted to kill her - and how he still couldn’t trust her. Despite how Rowan knew that psychic powers weren’t the most reliable, and could even make one go crazy - like his mothers had - he still held the utmost trust in her.

Nonetheless, Rowan obliged when you mouthed to him: “Weems is on her case. Any wrong move and she’ll be done for.”

Twisting the knob slowly, you cracked the door open a few inches. “Hi, Wednesday.” You pasted on a bright smile, all teeth and, on purpose, entirely, noticeably, fake.

“I need to talk to Rowan.” She said shortly, black eyes boring into your own. They were completely devoid of emotion, blank and lifeless. If you ever saw her laying on the floor with the same expression, you’d think she was dead. 

“I’m afraid we’re,” You grinned larger, trying to flush some color into your cheeks, “having some quality couple time.”

She furrowed her brows. You lifted a hand onto her shoulder, “You get it, righ—“

Suddenly, Wednesday’s head flew back, and her body stiffened. Her back was arched, arms flailed at her side. Wednesday looked completely out of it, eyes rolling to the back of her head, breathing scattered like she was heaving.

“Wednesday?” You whispered, hands curling around her thin arms. “Wednesday!” You repeated, shaking her rapidly when she didn’t come out of her stupor. 

She looked like she was about to convulse, but instead her body held still for a moment, until it grew limp and fell into your arms. 

You gaped. Then, you looked down the hall, left and right, feeling your nerves practically burn on fire at the thought that someone had seen. 

Thankfully, nobody was loitering in your wing of Karnstein Hall, but you knew Yoko was going to grab her herbology kit soon for her next class. 

Decisively, you dragged Wednesday’s sagging body into your room. Then, you gently placed her body in the middle of the room, and locked your dorm door. 

“What happened? What the the fuck did you do?!” Rowan said, springing up from his bed. His panic was evident as the pitch of his voice climbed higher and higher, nervously hopping over Wednesday’s body and standing next to you. 

“Why the hell is that your first thought?! I didn’t do anything!” You said defensively, throwing your arms up in the air. 

“Then how come she’s - passed out like that. Is she passed out? Did you kill her or—“ Rowan’s voice was quickly growing staccato, and he was running out of breath. 

“I didn’t kill her! What are you even saying?! We were just talking—“

“If you were just talking then why is she on the floor, in the middle of our goddamn room?!” Rowan shouted, heaving. 

You were sure Rowan was about to pass out, when Wednesday suddenly lifted her upper body off the floor. It looked like when elder vampires sprung from their coffins, unlike the younger generation of vampires that shed the need for coffins and got their energy from social interaction. Changing times, you guessed.

Wednesday turned to the both of you, almost mechanically, and you both froze on the spot. Her gaze pierced the two of you. It was calculating, all knowing; like she knew secrets you did not.

She drew in a thin breath between the teeth that, suddenly, looked as sharp as knives. “That night - in the forest. You died.” Wednesday looked at Rowan, her eyes tracing the bite scar on his neck. 

“But it wasn't the monster that killed you,” Wednesday continued. Her eyes drifted, latching onto you next. “It was [Name]. They followed the scent of blood, found you… and turned you.”

Wednesday’s dull, lifeless eyes grew a miniscule sheen. “Am I correct?” She said, pushing herself up from the wood floors and dusting her black pants off. 

You looked at Rowan. He looked at you. You both continued like that for several moments, all the while Wednesday stood watching and waiting. She seemed to have no qualms at all about waiting, like an idle game character. 

Never mind Wednesday Addams’s mannerisms — how in god’s fucking name did she know that? In utmost detail, nonetheless, even down to how Rowan’s attack made itself known to you. 

“How - did you...“ Rowan broke the silence, fumbling over his words. His hands animatedly expressed his shock. 

You pressed two fingers between your eyes. “Who told you this? Who saw this, and who else knows?”

If there was even the slightest chance that this information leaked… the two of you would be done for. The possibility of a homicidal monster being known to parents would effectively close the school - and for how long, you did not know. 

(Although Nevermore had never been home, it was single-handedly the only place you and Rowan had ever known so comfortably. 

For centuries, you wandered throughout Europe - through Romania and back again, in France, Italy, Denmark, Istanbul when it had still been Constantinople; every country in the North-Eastern hemisphere you traversed, unable to sit still, unable to get comfortable, unable to feel okay, until you crossed into the Americas, into Nevermore. It was not home, but at least it promised something similar. 

After Rowan’s mother’s death - no, even before she had passed, his house wasn’t home. His mother’s psychic abilities had ailed her - not physically, which had killed her - but in the head. Rowan’s mother had not been herself for at least a decade before she passed, and when she did die, it was saying goodbye to a stranger, loving a figure who did not love you back, nonetheless raise you. 

His father, even moreso, was estranged. Rowan’s father had cherished his mother more than anything in the entire world; more than the family business, more than their heaps of wealth, more than Rowan himself. 

When she died, in that large, empty, home, the warm part of his father died with her. 

Despite the way he was treated at school, he preferred Nevermore over his house, because at least he was treated with contempt. In the Laslow family estate, Rowan was not treated with anything at all. In that empty house, Rowan felt like a ghost. No one spoke to each other, no one spoke to him, and his father drowned himself in his work. 

Nevermore was for the fleeing. You and Rowan fit those conditions entirely. It welcomed the fearful, the alone, the outcast. It attempted to make something of a home out of you all, and even if it didn’t fill the gap in you and Rowan, it, at the very least, filled some of it. 

So closing the school could not happen.)

“Nobody told me this. I did not see this matter in the way you think. And no-one else knows, excluding you two, and now me.” 

“You lie,” You said. There was no other way she’d get a hold of such intimate details. 

If possible, Wednesday looked slightly offended at the connotation. “I have not lied for the entirety of this conversation.” 

And lie again. You sucked air in through your teeth, taking short and rapid breaths. What right did she have, knocking on your door and passing out, barging into your business, all knowing and spilling your every secret? 

What did she want? 

Something dawned on you, your eyes widening with each passing second. Passing out? All knowing—

Wednesday looked you both in the eye. Her gaze was as transparent as glass, and it looked as though she was prepared to lay all her cards on the table. 

“I suppose, as I’ve found out your secret, I must tell you mine. A quid pro quo, of sorts.” 

“You did not see it in the way we think,” You thought to yourself, piecing together Wednesday’s vaguely knit puzzle of words. 

Wednesday’s hands clasped together. “I get visions. Of the past, or the future.” 

You and Rowan looked at one another once more. That would explain many things, but you both still regarded the Addams’ daughter with a certain distrust. You did so for reasons you could not quite understand, but perhaps it was her eeriness that held such a discomforting air that made you both need more convincing. 

She turned to Rowan, “On Harvest Day, I saw you die. No more, no less. Before you did so, I did not see you try to kill me. Until now, I did not see [Name] save you.”

Rowan’s eyes thinned. “What else have you seen?” He said, distrustingly. 

Wednesday looked similarly distrusting, which was not surprising, as Rowan had tried to kill her. Nonetheless, she answered. “I witnessed a Jericho civilian’s death by cervical fracture before he died.” 

“These visions… you cannot control them?” You said, interrupting Rowan and Wednesday’s impromptu death-staring contest. 

Wednesday blinked. “Touch seems to be a common factor. But no.”

“Are they all knowing? Fixed?” Rowan scrutinized, an unashamed attempt at sleuthing. 

Wednesday, in her limited ability to show much emotion, seemed pensive. “To claim my visions are omniscient would be superbia. However, their accuracy has not yet failed me.”

You bit the skin on your nails. You could feel a drumming in your head, and you could imagine that was what a thrumming heart was like. 

Everything you asked, Wednesday seemed to answer - or perhaps, counter - completely. She left no room for suspicion, completely devoid of holes in her story. 

You exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay - fine. Yes, I turned Rowan. I - smelt his blood from the festival, followed the trail, and decided the only way I could save him was to turn him.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, acknowledging. “Smart decision on your part. In terms of eye-witness testimonies to the monster, all victims dead meant no accounts.” Wednesday’s gaze then turned to Rowan, whose previously impugning attitude disappeared. 

“I - didn’t see much.” Rowan began, in a meek voice. “As much as you saw, Wednesday. Maybe even less.”

“It does not particularly have to be what the creature looked like. Anything at all that you may remember,” she said, placing her hands in front of her expectantly.

He grimaced. “It… reminded me of a werewolf.” Rowan started, before quickly shaking his head. “But it wasn’t one. No, it was… violent; out of control.” Rowan bit his lip, thin, pointed fangs nipping at the skin so hard he nearly drew blood. “I remember it staring me down - with those huge, crazed eyes. But it - It looked like it… knew what it was doing. Like they - it, was attacking me intentionally.”

Silence filled the room, and it felt like a cold draft blew in, despite zero openings. The environment grew tense, and you looked at Rowan. If possible, he looked paler than before, a certain despair settling into the lines of his soft face. 

A heavy guilt weighed on your shoulders. Of course he wouldn’t want to talk about the monster that almost killed him. In what world would one happily talk about their near-murderer? 

Breaking the silence, Wednesday hummed. “Intelligence, rather than animalistic instinct. Interesting.” 

“I - think it’s best if you go now, Wednesday.” You said, looking at Rowan’s blank stare. His lips were pressed in a thin line, and he looked elsewhere. Far away from the now, melting in his memories. 

Wednesday blinked, and looked as if she wanted to say much more, but settled with a curt nod, and exited your dorm room. Before she left, she said, “Try not to let this conversation of ours leave the room. I have reason to believe the monster may very well kill all who know about it.”

After Wednesday left, it was just the two of you in the room. The awkward silence suffocated you both, like a noose constricting around your neck. Any words you wished to say died on your lips, their ghosts coming out as mere sighs. 

“I’m sorry.” You said finally, turning away from Rowan, who now lay still on his bed. He looked akin to a corpse in a casket during an open funeral viewing. 

“What for?” Rowan droned dully, eyes trained on the popcorn ceiling above you. You knew he wasn’t really listening, and he wasn’t really answering. His mind was so far between from his body, his subconscious answering for him. 

“We didn’t have to tell her. We didn’t have to answer. I didn’t mean to force you.”

Rowan didn’t answer, at least not for a long moment. Your simultaneous breathing was all that could be heard; in and out, in and out.

Finally, Rowan let out a breath of air that was tattered, ragged and tired. He sounded worn out; aching. “We had to tell her. She already knew.” He tried to catch his fleeting breath, “And you didn’t force me. I chose to tell her what I saw. What tried to kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” You said, turning to face him. Rowan’s body had turned to face the wall, on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest. “for everything.”

“It’s not your fault.” Rowan whispered, almost inaudibly. 

You inched closer, until you were at the edge of his bed. You kneeled beside him, and in the softest voice you could muster: “I’m sorry for turning you. This - being what I am - isn’t anything good at all. It - isn’t what you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m - it wasn’t my choice to make; I — I turned you into something you’re not. Something terrible.”

Rowan rolled over, meeting you face to face. His light brown eyes glistened with small, shining tears, brows furrowed. “You - saved me. I’m not human anymore but I’m — I’m still alive.” His eyes coursed over your melancholic face, “That’s more than anyone else could do.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a broken toy. The guilt of turning a human into something they should never be, twisted your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You felt sick, icky for playing God with someone’s life, for playing God with Rowan’s fundamental being. “I should’ve never—“

“If you never turned me, I’d be dead, alright?” Rowan said gruffly, pushing himself upright from the mattress. He wiped furiously at his wet eyes, “It doesn’t matter if I was human, or not. I would’ve been dead. Gone. Okay? Stop -“ He pressed his shaking hands together, “stop saying you’re sorry.” 

Your lips opened and parted, your throat deathly dry. Words you couldn’t muster clawed at your esophagus, rendering you silent. 

Turning Rowan had been, what you felt, like the greatest sin in your entire, long, lifespan. You thought - that deep down, Rowan hated you for it.

“I’m sorry.” You looked him in the eye, weak on the floor. You could only ever imagine repenting for turning him. It was a taboo act - one you knew saved him, for certain, but had ruined him. 

You had been born ruined; born without the ability to be saved. There was no reason to condemn Rowan like so; to take away the humanity you so desperately wanted. 

Rowan’s eyes crinkled, a sad smile tightening on his lips. He knew he couldn’t change your mind, no matter how much he wanted to. “Don’t be.” 

[pastafossa]

I GOT TICKETS TO SEE CHARLIE AT COMIC CON!!!!! ᗡ:

I'm gonna get to get an autographed photo with him and go to panels and I'm so excited asdgdhd :>

Do you have any tips on how not to freak out during the photo op?

OH MY GOD I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU YESSSSSS! Like LOOK, I've met celebs before, big names and small, at cons and signings and stuff. Most of them are really cool about it. But Charlie was by far the nicest, most genuine celeb I've had the pleasure of meeting. So you're in good hands here.

Sexy... sexy hands *heavy breathing*

Some tips that helped, some of which I got from other Daredevil fans here who'd met him before me!

The biggest one is try to prepare for the photo op to go FAST and for that sudden moment you're right up there with him, cause you'll easily get flustered otherwise. When they were taking me and @wonderlandmind4 through the op, we had maybe twenty seconds. It went: come in, say hi and introduce yourself (he asks your name quite frequently which is lovely), you set up the photo real quick if it's anything other than arms around shoulders (this is when I was like, 'can you hold the other end of this up to your chest?' with the red thread I'd made, and others quickly explained all the poses for their pics), they take the photo, then he shakes your hand (this is where I said, 'thank you SO much Charlie), he usually thanks you for coming by name (I got lucky and got a, 'and you as well my dear, have a lovely day' after I thanked him, FUCKING. SWOON.) , and you're out. So basically the speed can absolutely throw you, because you basically come around the corner and BOOM, he's right there, shaking your hand, smiling at you, and holy shit does he make genuine eye contact which is absolutely capable of stunning you up close. Like, I'd been warned and I still had to fight a momentary burst of white noise in my brain.

If you're going to say something here about loving his work or what Daredevil means to you (other than just, 'oh my god this is awesome' or something), I'd try to pick something short and impactful, but fast. A sentence, maybe two when you're introducing yourself is all you'll have time for, so make it count. Don't be afraid to write it out and then edit it down until it's just right. "Hi, I'm *insert name*, I'm so happy I finally get to meet you." Or "Hi, I'm *insert name*, your work has meant a lot to me, thank you for doing this." Something like that. Quicky funny lines would also probably go down just fine. The important part to know is while he does the best he can, the con itself is running this and they're usually trying to move you through like cattle, so he's limited in how much time he can spend with each person before he's gotta run off to a panel. So if what you've got is short, that'll help you be ready.

Practice, practice, practice. Practice what you're going to say if you need to. Make sure you can run through it on instinct to minimize chances of forgetting what to say or do. And if you have a certain way you want to look, practice that, too. My picture is fucking hilarious to me and fam because while I got through my practiced line about asking him to hold the red thread, I completely forgot how I was going to pose or how I'd planned to smile, and my entire fam knew what had happened the second they saw my absolutely over the moon goofy smile and the way I clearly forgot what to do with the hand I didn't have over his shoulder. Which I wound up liking cause it's a very genuine photo, but some people want something a bit more controlled LOL.

And lastly, because it's worth a repeat: just know that he really does try to make this go well. He's incredibly genuine and nice, and I honestly think he works to make himself very approachable, likely because he knows a lot of us are nervous as hell. One of my friends at the con (who, hilariously, I didn't know was there and who didn't know I was there until he saw me in Charlie's autograph line - I didn't see his message asking if that was me until later) where I met Charlie, was in a REALLY long line for one of the other actors who wound up staying late to sign. He said Charlie stayed just as late to make sure absolutely everyone who'd bought an autograph ticket got their autograph since the con had been kinda disorganized and there were a lot of people still in line. And nobody I've talked to who's met him has ever had a bad experience with him. So just keep reminding yourself of that. <3

So basically yeah, that's what I've got, and he's now my favorite celeb I've ever met, and it was an incredibly positive experience both in the photo op and at the autograph table. You've got nothing to worry about. Just practice, be ready for the speed, and take a deep breath.

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"In Your Dreams" ~ J. Byers

Summary: When Reader is having a hard time with her Halloween makeup, she uses Jonathan as her canvas to practice.

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 634

Content Warning: mild sexual humor, mild horror movie talk (Freddy Krueger is mentioned a couple times), lmk if i misses anything!

Extra Notes: this reads a lil bit like they're in high school but i promise that wasn't my intention lol! no established ages so Reader and Jonathan can be 18+ if you so wish, or not if you'd rather they be younger than 18 lol

Originally Written: 10/26/2023 through 10/27/2023

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

"Hold still," you complained, eyeliner pencil in hand.

Jonathan grumbled, though a smile never ceased from his lips. "I am holding still!" he rebutted. "I'm just scared you're gonna take out my eye with that thing."

This started about twenty minutes prior, when you were telling him how nervous you were about your Halloween costume. The two of you had settled that you would go as Freddy Krueger and he'd go as Glen, but the prospect of all that makeup seemed a bit daunting to you after you'd agreed.

Thus, you found yourselves lying on the floor of your bedroom, eyeshadow palettes and lipstick tubes spread about as you practiced the makeup on Jonathan. He'd been ever the sweetheart about the ordeal, simply letting you paint his face however you'd like.

"You'd never make it as a woman," you argued, going back in with the eyeliner.

Jonathan ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I don't know why you're so stressed about this. I mean, isn't Halloween supposed to be fun? Isn't this stress taking the fun out of it for you?"

You countered his statement with a look of exasperation. "Of course you get to say that. All you do is have to throw on some sweatpants and an old tee shirt and call it a night. I have the hard job."

He sensed your frustration, a loving hand meeting your knee as he flashed you a sideways smile. "Sweetheart, it's just a Halloween costume. You don't have to freak out about the whole thing. I just want you to have fun."

Your heart swelled with adoration for the boy in front of you, a million butterflies fluttering around in your belly at his kind words. "I know, and I appreciate that. But it's our first Halloween as a couple, Jon. And I really want to see the look on Carol's face when we beat her and Tommy at the couples costume contest."

A light snicker tumbled out of him as he pulled you closer, his hands settling on either side of your face. "And you will. Because you have one thing that Carol doesn't."

"A brain?" you laughed. Your eyes met his, a thousand hidden emotions swirling around in those chocolate brown eyes you loved so much.

"Okay, two things," Jonathan chuckled. "A brain, and the fact that you're already gonna be the prettiest girl at the party, with or without makeup."

The butterflies somehow increased tenfold as your lips met his, chapped skin against chapped skin that was somehow your favorite feeling in the world. The bergamot scent of his cologne filled your senses as he pulled you close, tugging your body down with his as he fell back on the carpet. The action elicited a giggle from you, tumbling out of your mouth and into his.

Finally, you pulled away, looking down at him with slight confusion. "What are you up to, Byers?"

"Nothing. Can't a guy compliment his girl?" he asked, faking innocence.

Your eyes narrowed in on him. "You keep acting like this, and you'll be doing a lot more than complimenting me."

"Maybe," Jonathan pulled you down for a short peck, "that's the point."

Your bubble of bliss was popped by a knock on your door, followed by your mother insisting that it was time for bed. You scrambled up from the floor, pulling Jonathan with you and rushing him toward the window where he'd climbed in earlier.

"Good night, Freddy," he joked, leaning in for one last kiss.

"Oh, it will be. I'll see you later… in your dreams," you joked, wiggling your fingers at him to emphasize the spookiness of your words.

The boy simply snickered as he began to make his way out of your bedroom window. "I look forward to it, then."

taking this time to make a formal apology for posting so late in the day lol! it was never my intention to not post today (since it's now after midnight here lol) but the day got away from me and i never found time to edit and post until now lol! hope you guys are well and enjoying all the fics so far! 🫶🏻

-> taglist: @ducky-died-inside @aftermidnightwriting @esoltis280

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

All For Naught

Day #29 - Behind the Music | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: Jeff/Goodie (Freak), Minor Steddie Mention | Tags: Future Fic, Band Breakup, Angst, Jeff and Goodie are Best Friends, But Goodie Learned How to Run from Eddie, Unrequited Love, Or Is It?, Hopeful Ending

Jeff loads the last guitar into the back of the pickup. He can't believe it's over. Just like that. They tried so hard, for so long, that he kind of assumed that they would forever. 

He definitely hadn't expected Goodie to be the one to throw in the towel.

Not like this.

He thought if they broke up it would be Eddie that called it quits. Eddie, with Steve at home. Eddie with a whole life outside the band.

Or Gareth. He's getting married. It'd be fair to want to settle down, to stay close to home. To give up on the band that has only had middling success, at best. 

But, no. It was Goodie. His best friend, the one that he thought he'd ride or die with until the absolute end, that pulled the plug. Sure, they could get another bass player, but they'd made a promise to each other years ago that Corroded Coffin was the four of them, and the four of them alone.

No additions. No replacements.

So, with Goodie out, they're just done.

All they have left is cleaning out the rehearsal garage, dividing up stuff that they can't remember who it belonged to in the first place. They aren't even fighting. That's the thing that hurts the most. That they are all just resigned to letting this go.

It's been their life for almost two decades, and now it's just over.

Jeff moved back home for a while, but looking up at the ceiling in his childhood bedroom was too depressing, so as soon as he could get his shit together, he fled. Out of town, out of the state. 

He went from living in close proximity to the three of them, to now, all alone. Staring at the blank walls of his apartment as he tries to find a job. He had a job. It didn't pay particularly well, but he loved it. 

Loved Corroded Coffin. 

Loved them all.

Loved Goodie the most.

And now they haven't spoken in six weeks. Goodie's just vanished off the face of the earth, and Goodie's mom and dad won't tell Jeff anything useful. He's just gone.

His last private lesson of the day is over. The kids are kind of fun to teach, even if he doesn't expect any of them to be the next Jimi Hendrix.

He teaches lots of guitar, and a little piano. He knows enough to teach the beginners, anyway. 

Mr. Clarke, back home, was able to pull some strings, even from states away, vouching for him. And now he's a music tutor.

It pays well. He often makes more in an afternoon than his cut would be from a weekend of gigs. 

He's not passionate about it, not like he was about Corroded Coffin, but it definitely pays the bills more reliably.

Eddie and Steve have been out a couple times, and Gareth once, and they all tip-toe around him, like he might explode. Since when is he the unstable one? Eddie always had the dramatics locked down for himself.

"I'm fine," Jeff says for the tenth time since Eddie flopped onto his couch this afternoon.

"You're not," Eddie argues.

"Do you want me to cry, or what?" Jeff snaps.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you did."

Nothing is gonna make him feel better. His best friend basically wrote his ass off, along with everyone else, in one fell swoop. He took that pretty damn personally. How could he not? It was fucked. 

"Goods called last week," Eddie says, as casual as can be. 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie. That's what you lead with. Not Steve's new lawnmower," Jeff bitches, "Well? Where is he?"

"He said the South of France, but I don't believe him," Eddie says.

No shit. Jeff wouldn't believe that either. Goodie hates the sun.

"Well, did he at least explain why he imploded the band?" Jeff asks, because that's what he needs to know.

"He didn't. But you know why," Eddie says, and Jeff pauses, looking at him.

He most definitely does not, "I do?"

"Think," Eddie stresses, as if Jeff hasn't been thinking about this, and only this, for months. 

"Because we weren't making money?"

"No," Eddie says.

"Because he had finally had enough of Gareth?"

Eddie laughs, "No. But a better guess."

"I don't know. I feel like maybe I never knew him at all, if he's capable of just bailing on us all for no good reason."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "C'mon. You know better than this. You know how he's always felt about you."

Jeff opens his mouth to laugh, but Eddie doesn't, so he snaps it closed again. No. That can't be. Goodie never. 

No, no, no.

"You're not saying…" Jeff trails off.

"I am saying. We all saw it. How did you not?" Eddie asks, and Jeff's confused. That's not. They never. Goodie never said anything. How was he supposed to guess that?

Goodie came out a few years ago, as loath as he was to follow in Eddie's footsteps about anything. 

Jeff's dated women and men. Why wouldn't Goodie just say something? It's not like there was a zero percent chance. 

But it must have felt like it to him, he supposes. 

Goddamnit.

Sure, there's been some moments over the years. But he was, is, his best friend. And not fucking up that, not fucking up the band, always quashed anything that ever bubbled to the surface.

And now, there's no best friend, and no band, so the caution was all for naught.

"Well, fuck," Jeff says, and Eddie laughs, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. 

An address.

The door opens, and Goodie looks surprised. Eddie didn't warn him.

Jeff takes one big step forward, pushing into his personal space, "You're an asshole."

It's not graceful. Too many teeth, and noses bumping like they've never done this before, but Jeff keeps at it, keeps kissing him, not intending to give him the opportunity to slip away again.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[summ6rbummer]

PATRICK HOCKSETTER X FEMALE BULLY VICTIM PT. 3

FUCK YOU FREAK

so we're starting to get somewhere with this story yayy!! patrick is a mega stalker now, on the count of breaking-and-entering!! anyways, last time, you, the reader had set out to fuck up patrick! (yay for you)

overall tw for all counts of violence and assault and more violence ofc

ily all

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it was a colder night, crickets were chirping and cicadas were buzzing and mosquitoes were nipping at my legs. i could care less. all i could feel was anger and disgust and fear at the acts and past of patrick hocksetter. i still had the bread knife clenched in my clammy palm, and my breathing was heavy as i stomped down the street towards patrick's house. i remembered memorizing his address and the way his house looked and the schedule of his family, all so i would know to avoid it. to take a different street after school, to know to start running if i see his bedroom light come on at night, and to never make eye contact with his mother when she waters her flowers in the morning in the fear of her acknowledging me and him over hearing.

just living in fear of him. and im so sick of it. it ends tonight. i stood at the end of his driveway and his parents car wasn't there. perfect. i stomped up to the front door and a sudden wave of overwhelming fear washed through my body.

why am i scared now. I've spent my whole life being afraid of this fucking asshole. whatever happens i can't be afraid of him. im so tired of this.

i turn the doorknob handle, knowing it was unlocked. i swiftly stepped inside and silently closed it behind me. i practically tiptoed through the front hallway, tightly gripping the knife in my clammy hand. the second door on the left side of the hallway was his bedroom.

i could hear him moving around in his room, maybe unlacing his boots considering he was done stomping around my room like a fucking bozo.

i reached for the doorknob and my fingertips just barely grazed it when the door swung open and i was face to face with Patrick’s chest. my blood froze.

then suddenly i was reminded that he had been making my blood run cold my entire life. and i was tired of it.

my brow furrowed and my lip curled and i cracked, lunging at him with the knife in my hand and pure hatred in my eyes.

i really don’t know what i was thinking. hes much bigger than i am, definitely stronger, and definitely crazier.

not even a second had passed before i was on the floor with the knife flung down the hallway; Patrick standing at my feet. my breath stopped in my throat and i felt nausea pilling in my stomach.

fuck fuck fuck. why did i think i could do this? im gonna fucking die in patrick's fucking house and they're going to use a terrible photo of me in my obituary.

i scrambled away from him, scampering down the hallway and reaching for the knife. a wrecked cry flew from my throat as his muddy boot came down on my hand. he grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back down the hallway. away from the door, away from the knife, the street, my life.

i was dragged into his bedroom, the rug folding up under my writhing legs. i kicked at his ankles, and scratched at the floor. after i was fully in his room, he tossed me sideways and stepped to slam his door closed.

why did i decide to be brave. why did i think i was strong enough to do anything? why am i so stupid.

patrick stood in the entrance to the bedroom, just standing there. staring. i had scrambled back against the wall, hugging my knees. i couldn't understand the look in his eyes. he looked angry.. but in a way that was sad.. almost disappointed. it was a long, tense, silent moment before he said anything.

"why would you do that."

it wasn't a question. all of a sudden i was angry again. i lunged up and at him, hands ready to claw at his face.

"because of you! its you and Henry and fucking Victor and Belch! its you! you make my life a living hell! i hate you i fucking hate you and everything you've done to me in my life! i want you dead!'

i clawed at his neck and he grabbed my wrists, holding me away as i screamed in his face.

"im tired of having to live with you terrorizing me!"

i was cut off when he shoved me back, my hip hitting the backboard of the bed. i groaned in pain.

"why do you think i 'terrorize' you?" "hm? ive told you before. its because you're real. like me."

i sighed. "oh shut the fuck up patrick. what does that even mean? you're real. im real. of course i am! this is fucking real life!"

his face faltered. he stepped towards me again with a darker look fallen over his body. "the last time someone else came into my life and was real, he ruined everything. i had to fix that. and now im the only one left. or i was. but then you showed up. i realized you were real too and that i had to fix it early. and i did." a crazed smile started spreading on his face. "everyone else is fake! its just us that are real! and its only going to be us!"

so much shock surged through my body that i laughed. an exasperated, tired laugh of pure confusion wheezed from my lungs. "what the fuck is wrong with you? oh my god you're fucking insane! im talking to an insane person! you're crazy!" i gasped in between laughs. his face fell.

"no." he stepped forward, his eyes darker than ever. 'im not crazy. im real. and.. you are too. i knew you wouldnt understand. you think you can fool me? you just want to replace me." he stepped forward again, his hands stiff and shaking and his face stone.

the wheezing laugh had left me, as well as all the air left in my lungs. the tone in his voice was telling. i never should've called him crazy. you cant call crazy people crazy.

im not going to make it out of this house alive.

suddenly his hands were around my throat, squeezing, tearing ripping at my skin. i screamed, a bloodcurdling scream and tore at his shoulders. my nails dug into his face, and his into my neck in return. i could feel the air struggling to enter my body.

i was gasping and screaming and sobbing, suffocating.

and i could only look at him.

i could only see his eyes. they weren't brown anymore, they were black. like a sharks eyes, dark and unforgiving. inhuman.

as darkness crept into the corners of my vision and my limbs went numb, i could only think of one thing.

what if i wasn't in that class in fifth grade.

[amethystfairy1]

What’s your writing process? Like do you do outlines or just jump right into plot etc… I’m a young writer (14) and really admire your work and want to get better myself. Ty!

✨WRITING PROCESS✨

...

this.

this is my writing process.

OK TO BE REAL THO

Firstly, I don't do outlines.

I KNOW THAT'S BAD BUT I JUST DON'T

What I usually do is word vomit whatever idea I have for a fic into a notes file.

For example! Here's a little random nonsense I just copied verbatim from my notes file that might look familiar!

Tango and Z in sky, blue cracks, Z decides to drop a container with info and his phone number into the rift. He wants to talk to the hybrids, maybe he’s some sort of researcher, he went AWOL from the biotech Institute, something like that. But he is human. Then, tango finds it, or it is brought to him, because he is a direct aid to doc in the labs. Tango ends up deciding to call Z, and they end up becoming really good friends, but only over the phone. Have some fun stuff, where both Z and tango are getting a crush, but how can you crush on someone you’ve never even seen? Tango is freaking out, because he’s not the type of hybrid that can pass as human. he knows he’ll never be able to meet Z face to face. But Z is a little more determined that he gives him credit for. Also have X be a side character in the labs, voidwalker, something like that! Maybe Z is an AWOL scientist, and scar, picked him up to work in his hot guy lab, with cub.

This is the blurb that spawned the Zedango arc in TTSBC.

In case you can't tell I use the dictation function in notes because like 90% of the time I have ideas while I'm driving so I'll just tell my phone to write down whatever I'm thinking and then talk it out

So yeah! I do this, which I dunno is kinda like an outline? I do it for more or less all of my fics.

As far as other stuff, I think the best advice I can give about being a "better writer", which has to do with your question about 'jumping into plot' is to know about your characters and your world , even if you don't plan to share that information in the piece you are writing, or even like, ever.

It's the way you make your characters feel like people. I was actually talking about this with @honeylashofficial not to long ago! You should know why your characters make the choices they do, even if that information never comes up. You should know what they like and dislike and why, if they have traumas then how would those traumas affects them in small daily ways?

Jimmy in TTSBC grew used to being threatened for his wings, so now he has a love-hate relationship with them.

Tango spent a long time without a truly safe place to sleep as a child, so now he has insomnia because he has an internalized fear of falling asleep/being vulnerable.

Zed was treated very poorly at his previous workplace, and he had a terrible experience where his professional lifes work was torn to shreds in front of him, so his self-esteem is very low, and he tends to be very self-deprecating even in a joking fashion.

Cub has sensory issues that severely impact his mood because of his warden hybrid traits, so he typically keeps himself very low energy as a baseline to avoid seeming like he has mood swings.

Even little stuff like what characters notice about their surroundings! Again in TTSBC, Jimmy pays close attention to the weather and the sky, Scott notices people features and expressions, Cub has more detailed thoughts about sounds than he does about sights, stuff like that!

Also I'm gonna give ya the piece of advice no one wants to hear when they're just starting. Just write. Write a TON.

Write even if you only have half an idea. Write even if you think it's gonna be bad. Write if you have even the slightest smallest bit of a motivation to do so, just WRITE WRITE WRITE.

And I will say while I could just be one of the lucky ones, I have been posting on various fanfic websites since I was 13. And in all that time I can count on one hand the amount of hate/negative comments I have received. Over a DECADE of writing and posting and I’ve written and posted A LOT and I have only ever been met with kindness, excitement, and encouragement.

Also, the delete button exists for a reason. You curate your experience on these websites. Especially on A03, with the ability to reply to comments, you can make very clear very quickly what sort of comments you want, which ones you don't, and the vast vast vast majority will be people who are excited about your work and want to encourage you!

If you need a mood booster or some encouragement, you can find my old old stuff on FF.net under the same penname, Amethystfairy1. Just promise you won't come back over here and send asks laughing at me for how bad those stories are, ok? 😆

My point is, you learn best by doing. As you write you will get a feel for your characters, for how they interact and react, for what your specific writing style is going to be and what you enjoy writing the most. And write what you enjoy! Of course you should stretch your writing style, but also make sure you never feel like you're slogging through your writing, especially if it's for fun or creative!

OH ONE MORE THING! 👏

I HIGHLY RECCOMEND DOING A WRITING CHALLENGE!

Stuff like Whumptober, Febuwhump, Novemcomfort, AU-gust, or different fandom weeks that come up, you can find them all over tumblr! Try to participate in one of those and get in as many days as you can! It'll make you write a lot in a short period of time, and you won't have time to overthink it, which I believe is really helpful for finding your writing style and getting comfortable with writing and posting content! It'll also give you a connection to a community of other writers who are participating, especially if you plan to post your updates to tumblr like I do!

Whatever you do on your writing journey, I hope it brings you much joy, fun, and creativity! You'll create something beautiful, I just know it! 💖