#note for anyone interested enough to keep reading these tags

[queerlyvictorian]

Deus'Pa'Zull is the stupidest most ingenious name for a garbage disposal eldrich entity that I can possibly think of

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[bitchlessdino]

mind your business (m)

Pairing: Frenemy!fem!reader x minder reader!chan

Genre: supernatural comedy, smut

Word count: 12.4k

tags: mean!reader, mean!chan, mentions needing to puke or die (both overdramtic af), implied consent (mind reading about desire and wants without audible consent), names (good girl or dirty girl), claustrophilia, stocking ripping, fingering, cunniligus, rough sex, brief spanking, unprotected sex.

Summary: If Chan had to read anyone’s mind, it had to be yours—the one person who seemed to loathe him with every ounce of your being. But before Halloween day, when that wish is suddenly granted, he begins to realize he’s opened a can of worms far bigger than he ever imagined—one that can’t be sealed shut again.

author note: hello, this bitch late but at least she's here thank you for @diamonddaze01 and @haologram for betareading for me i love yall and eveyone else enjoy!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys

“I don’t know what to be for Halloween.”

“Well, right now what you’re wearing is pretty scary.”

Lee Chan had never met anyone he couldn’t knock down a peg—not that he ever had to try. Everyone adored him, from classmates to coworkers, even Seungkwan, who followed his playful jabs with free lunches instead of a comeback. He was easygoing, always getting along with everyone. That is until you infiltrated his friend group. You weren’t like the others, and for the first time, Chan wasn’t sure if his effortless charm would be enough to dissolve your natural snark.

Chan shot you an unamused smile, his eyes narrowing as you answered his question. The two costumes he held drooped at his sides, a patient frustration written all over his features. “What are you even doing here if you won’t help me?”

You lifted your half-filled glass, the chill of the drink seeping through your fingers. “The free drinks, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe leave the opinions to those who actually care, like Soonyoung here?”

Soonyoung beamed up at Chan, his excitement bubbling over as he playfully tugged at his friend’s hand like an overly enthusiastic toddler. “Aww, always here for you, buddy!”

You couldn’t resist a jab. “Well, if you did something interesting for once in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have to entertain myself.”

Chan groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Never mind. I’m just going to pick something else. Make yourself useful and try to stay quiet, okay?”

You scoffed, getting up from the sofa seat. “Whatever. I’m gonna find something to eat.”

Chan tried his best to stay positive around you, but it was difficult when every social encounter turned into a game of mental chess. But instead of being an actual opponent, you acted like the master, playing with his temperament as if he were merely a pawn. It was exhausting—trying to keep things cordial while knowing you were always pushing his buttons, testing tolerance, and working against him as if your sarcastic replies and eyerolls carried a vindictive purpose.

Chan collapsed onto his bed the moment you left the room, feeling completely defeated. Now, it was just him and Soonyoung left to figure out what he should wear for Halloween, mere days away from now.

“Why is she always like that?” he muttered, focused on the wrong thing,

Soonyoung shrugged, scooting beside you with his legs crossed on the bed. “I’m sure she means well; she just has…her own way of showing it.”

Chan sat up, looking at him in disbelief. “She’s hated me since the moment we met at the New Year’s party, and I still don’t get why.”

“That’s not true.” Soonyoung reassured, gently patting his friend on the head. “Maybe your personalities just clash a bit. She gets along with everyone else in the building.”

“Yeah, but why?” Chan sighed. “What did I even do?”

Soonyoung gave him a reassuring pat. “Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”

The more people like Soonyoung, or Seokmin, or Jeonghan reassured him that you’d come around, the less Chan believed it. It seemed like there would be nothing that could change your mind about him. Yet he couldn’t just accept that you disliked him for no reason. There had to be something behind the mean exterior, the jabs directed at either his character or even looks. Like he’s some kind of pushover. He would spend entire days wracking his brain, trying to understand why, and nothing would make sense. 

What made it worse was how much it bothered him—maybe because you saw each other almost daily, living in the same neighborhood. You’d grown close to everyone else like you were a permanent fixture here, but when it came to him, it felt like you went out of your way to get under his skin. Your cold glances, your sharp remarks, all seemed to gnaw at him, twisting him up inside like a steel knife in an already gashing wound (okay, maybe he was being dramatic). He just couldn’t stand it.

If he could, he’d look right into your mind, figure out what you were thinking, make sense of your actions, and—just maybe—finally understand why you behave the way you do.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a Halloween party to plan. Every year, the local gaming café downstairs—where he’d ironically ended up working at—hosted a Halloween bash with exclusive promotions. And every year, it was followed by a more exclusive all-out rager at his apartment, which he shared with a bunch of his friends above the cafe. It was something nearly everyone on the block looked forward to each year, and this time, Chan was in charge of the activities. The activities coordinator, Seungcheol had proclaimed.

That’s why Chan has been asking for all kinds of opinions lately, even yours. Being the natural people-pleaser he is, he felt as if he’d been running around everywhere to get everyone’s stamp of approval. He would go up and down, left and right, and even hold surveys at the cash register for strangers' opinions. He had a habit of making things perfect, and he wasn’t going to let your cynicism ruin it for him.

“Come on, help me figure out what to wear, bro. My night depends on it.”

Soonyoung had been helpful—thank goodness for that—and now that was one less problem to worry about, Chan felt a bit of relief. If he could just get through his shift at the cafe without losing his mind and manage to sneak in some few minutes of party planning, he would have a good day.

“You figure out what costume makes you look less of a loser, yet? Trick question, it really doesn’t matter what you pick. You’ll still look like a loser.”

Chan tilted his head, unfazed by your rude comments as he poured his tenth cup of ramen for the night—three of them for the same customer. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some puppies to kick?”

Your smile remained unfaltering, conniving as ever. “I cleared my schedule to help Seokmin and Soonyoung rank up. Wonwoo is playing with them this round. Just here to grab some Kickstart.”

“Ah, so another puppy is safe for a day from the wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations on your fleeting moment of decency.” He turned, striding over to the customers waiting for their ramen, while you annoyingly trailed closely behind. You grabbed your favorite blackberry Kickstart from the fridge, the bright can a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the café, and tossed a couple of crumpled bills in the direction of the cash register as if you’d done it before.

“You’re helping plan the Halloween party, right? Seungcheol mentioned it when I asked what I should bring,” you said, your tone almost too casual, as if you were friends.

Chan scoffed, carefully setting the steaming bowls of ramen down in front of the waiting customers before heading back to his station. “You, being courteous? That’s new. What do you want?”

With a sly smile, you leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I just wanted to let you know that if you really want to make the party fun, you can ask me. My ideas will probably be better than whatever you come up with.” The confidence in your voice made it clear you expected him to take you seriously, but how could he when every little word you managed to muster was belittling?

Chan grit his teeth, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He unscrewed the cap of a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in one swift gulp, the cool liquid barely offering any relief from his irritation. As he crushed the empty bottle in his hands, he aimed for the trash can but missed, the bottle clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Sounding exasperated, he bent down to pick it up, tossing it into the can with a bit more force than necessary.

Straightening up, he shot you a sharp glare. “I can handle it myself, thanks,” he muttered, his voice tight with annoyance.

“Really? Because I’m offering my help here,” you replied, your tone dripping with an offensive amount of condescending sincerity. “I’m being generous with my time and giving you the chance to create something…well, palatable from this party.” You exaggeratedly pretended to choose your words carefully, a teasing smile playing on your lips, poking at his alleged incompetence.

“You want to help?” Chan challenged, his tone cutting. “How about just enjoying the party instead of making it all about yourself? Some of us actually have work to do.”

He fixed you with a glare that held the slightest hint of malice before finally turning away and returning to his tasks.

“Defensive much?” you shot back, a glimpse of interest on your face as you raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, his voice firm. “Just self-respecting.”

“Fine,” you said, turning back to your friends as you walked away. “Just don’t come begging for my help when your party goes to shit.”

Chan found himself screaming into his pillows that night, the fabric muffling his frustrated cries as he banged his head against them in sheer exasperation.

“What the heck is her deal?” he murmured to himself, his voice muffled and thick with irritation. He buried his face deeper into the pillows, desperate to escape the relentless thoughts fogging in his mind. The familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener offered very little comfort as he replayed the interaction over and over, making him as puzzled as ever.

He hadn’t experienced bullying like this since high school, a time when everyone was preoccupied with either being popular or getting into the best colleges. He was neither; instead, he was a secret third option: just trying to survive.

“Always making fun of me. Always belittling me. Always making me feel like crap.” He pulled the covers over his eyes, seeking refuge from his loud thoughts. “Why can’t she just tell me what I did to make her hate me? I’m not a mind reader.”

Unable to sleep, Chan gazed up at the night sky through his bedroom window, seeing it enveloped in the vast pitch-blackness pressing down like a weight. He took a steadying breath, hoping to clear his mind. Not a single star graced him with its presence—only the lone moon, barely there but still noticeable—how relatable—hanging in the sky like a quiet witness to his restless thoughts.

“I’m going insane here, so if there’s a god out there, could he—or she—make my life easier for the next few days? Just a little?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for superpowers like telepathy or anything. Just…let me pull off a party that everyone actually enjoys. Even her. Maybe then she won’t be so…her all the time.”

It was wishful thinking, but worth a shot, and if Chan was known for anything, it was taking chances—no matter how slim the odds.

Chan was somehow able to sleep that night finally, hair straying all over his face, until he sat up at the realization of a lack of a blaring alarm, “Oh, shit.”

His phone battery had died, and his charger defective and rendered useless. He scrambled to Seungcheol’s room next door, avoiding the obstacles of his shirts strewn across the floor, and plugged the bead phone to his housemate’s charger, impatiently tapping until the phone lit up to greet him.

9:48. Just about 18 minutes before his morning shift starts and almost no time to get ready. “Shit, shit.”

‘What’s that noise?’

Chan glanced over at Seungcheol, who was sprawled out across his bed, a half-conscious casualty of the previous night’s escapades. It seemed he’d had company, judging by the tangled mess of clothes scattered on the floor, and apparently, they'd had more than just a “decent” time.

“Sorry, Cheol. Gotta borrow your charger. I’ll bring it back later.”

Seungcheol’s response was a muffled groan, his arm barely twitching in acknowledgment. Within the incoherent noise, Chan could just make out the unspoken message: ‘Just go away.’

“Got it, see you at work, buddy,” Chan muttered, plugging in his phone with a quick tap to check the time before heading for the door.

Another groan drifted from the bed, thick with irritation. ‘So loud.’

Chan got himself ready in a hurry, forgoing a shower and compensating with an extra-long brush of his teeth and a thick layer of deodorant. Fresh breath and a quick spritz of cologne would have to do for today. The cafe would be filled with people who wouldn’t care anyway.

He rushed downstairs to clock in, throwing on an apron over his lackluster clothes and prepping the makeshift kitchen in the back.

‘Ugh, my back is killing me.’

Chan turned at the faint sound of a familiar voice, spotting Minghao slouched in one of the worn chairs in the employees-only room, head leaned back, eyes half-closed in what looked like exhaustion.

“Hey, Hao. You okay?”

Minghao glanced up, his face breaking into a grin that seemed a bit forced, but reassuring nonetheless. “Morning, Chan. Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”

“Just checking in—I thought I heard you say something about your back?”

Minghao’s grin faded into a puzzled expression, brow furrowing as if he were rewinding through his own memory. “Hmm? I didn’t say anything. But… Now that you mention it, my back has been sore lately. All the competitions piling up, you know? Guess martial arts are starting to weigh down on this old, elderly body of mine.” He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.

Chan gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, if you need a break, just take one, alright? I’m sure Seungcheol or Jeonghan wouldn’t mind.”

Minghao’s smile softened. “Thanks, little buddy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chan smiled back. “Anytime.”

As Chan turned to leave, he heard a voice, faint but unmistakable, despite the owner of the voice being in the same room: ‘Chan’s a good kid.’ 

He paused mid-step, his eyes widening as he processed the thought, lingering in the air like a distant echo. He looked back at Minghao, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did…did you just say something?”

Minghao chuckled, giving him a casual wave as if everything were normal. “No? I’ll be out in a sec. How about you go warm up the coffee pot for me, hmm?”

“Got it…” Chan said, hesitating as he walked out, still glancing over his shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Had he really heard that voice? Or was exhaustion playing tricks on him? 

He flipped the cash register on, the familiar hum filling the quiet of the early morning. Chan meticulously counted the bills, making sure he had the right amount of change and neatly stacked cash, each dollar lined up perfectly. Once satisfied, he moved to the glass door, flicking the open sign to life with a soft click. The neon light flickered, casting a bright and loud, welcoming invitation to anyone passing by. Chan took a deep breath, feeling the calm before the inevitable rush.

‘I hope they have the good ramen and not that crappy store brand shit. You can totally tell the difference.’

The voice drifted into Chan’s mind, oddly clear and distinct as if someone were speaking right beside him—except no one was there. The words had a casual, almost lazy tone, echoing in his head like the distant buzz of a radio left on in another room. His gaze darted around the empty shop, his pulse quickening as he scanned the quiet space, lit only by the harsh glow of the neon open sign.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but the words still lingered, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them. This voice, like Minghao’s earlier, felt close yet completely detached, belonging to someone…elsewhere.

The chimes on the door jingled, pulling Chan from his thoughts as he glanced up to see a familiar figure. Finally, he could match the voice he’d been hearing to a face.

“Hey, Chan. The usual, please,” Beomgyu greeted, his tone dry, with the same dark circles under his eyes from late-night gaming marathons.

‘Is it me, or does he look shittier than usual?’ The words echoed in Chan’s mind, clear as if spoken aloud, though Beomgyu’s lips never moved. Chan froze, the unexpected comment hitting him square in the chest—both offending and unnerving him.

“Excuse me?” Chan retorted, defensively narrowing his eyes.

Beomgyu blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Uh… the usual? Kimchi ramen with cheese and a Cherry slush?”

‘Man, hasn’t he worked here for, like, a year? Doesn’t he have this down by now?’

“What? Of course, I do!” Chan shot back, his voice sharp with irritation.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, now clearly baffled. “Dude, what are you talking about? Just give me my stuff.”

Chan swallowed, feeling a strange tension creeping over him. He forced himself to look down, suddenly unsure whether he was hearing Beomgyu–or actually going insane.

“Right. Sorry. It'll be out in a second,” Chan mumbled, suddenly sheepish as he accepted the cash, his usual confidence thrown off-kilter.

Beomgyu gave him a lingering, puzzled look before shrugging it off and drifting over to his usual seat in the corner. As he walked away, Chan felt an odd prickling sensation in the back of his mind—the familiar voice filtering through, more unsettling this time.

‘Has he gone psycho or something?’

Chan’s heart skipped, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the words that had somehow entered his mind, clear as day, despite Beomgyu’s silent, closed lips. His fingers clenched the counter as he steadied himself, wondering if he was finally cracking under the stress or if something far stranger was at play.

‘Another day, another W!’

Another voice then grew louder, closer, and was growing more anxious, sweat beading down his forehead out of bewilderment. What in the fuck was happening?

Seokmin emerged from the doors, seeing Chan with a bright smile as he leaned up against the counter. “Hi Chan, a couple of sprites and two orders of rose spicy rice cakes please.”

‘I’ma burn through iron into silver today. I just know it!’

Chan’s hands hovered over the register, a sense of déjà vu creeping over him as he felt the words echo in his mind. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the buttons. “Y-you trying to rank up in Overwatch again today?” he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Seokmin laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Wonwoo and Jeonghan are coming by to play on their day off.”

‘Ooh, I should check if they have that series in stock again. I missed it last time.’

“What series were you looking for again?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he glanced up from the register.

Seokmin blinked, a little startled, clearly wondering how Chan had guessed. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about it. What was it called again?” ‘Kindergarden wars–’

“Kindergarten Wars, right? The Kindergarten Cop of Manga? That one?” Chan asked, his voice coming out a bit too smooth for his own comfort.

Seokmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping him. “Whoa, I just barely remembered the title! You’re on a roll, buddy. But yeah, that’s the one! Do you have it in stock?”

“Yeah, we should have a few copies in. I’ll grab one for you when your order’s ready,” Chan replied, managing a grin, though stark comparison to the panic festering in his body.

"Aw, you’re the best, Chan. Thanks!” Seokmin flashed a wide grin as he swiped his card, practically bouncing toward his usual corner. He arranged a couple of chairs, setting up a cozy little space for his friends, buzzing around like a busy bee as he prepped the area, clearly itching to dive into his day.

Meanwhile, Chan’s nerves were going through it. He kept glancing at the entrance, anxiety creeping up his spine as he wondered if the next person through the door would, once again, broadcast their every thought straight into his head. Just thinking about it made him want to puke, the effects of the bizarre events not dissipating in the slightest.

The rest of Chan’s day became a relentless cascade of intrusive thoughts, each one amplifying the disquiet simmering inside him. Every new customer brought a fresh wave of private musings, some harmless, others startlingly personal, or worse yet, straight creepy. The sheer volume of it all began to blur together into an overwhelming hum.

‘Fuck not again.’

‘Hell yeah, a new skin!’

‘He’s so annoying I wish he would just die already.’

‘I swear, they said ‘one more game’ like an hour ago.’

‘They’re all trash. Worthless. I’m surrounded by idiots who can’t play for shit.’

‘They won’t last. She’ll cheat on him, or he’ll leave her. It’s inevitable.’

The familiar buzz of the cafe felt unusually oppressive, almost suffocating, as Chan struggled to tune out the voices around him. He found himself straining to differentiate between what was actually spoken and what slipped uninvited into his mind, the line between reality and thought as thin as it was maddening.

"Hey, Hao, I’m gonna take five."

Chan didn’t wait for a reply. He bolted out of the business and up the narrow staircase to his residence, his pulse hammering in his ears. The familiar murmur of echoing voices trailed him, each step feeling heavier than the last, the whispers chasing him even as he tried to leave them behind. It wasn't until he closed the door with a soft but resolute click that they faded, now hushed but still there. Haunting him.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of voices still faintly buzzing in his mind. His hands tightened in his hair, fingers digging in as if grounding himself might silence the flood.

He shut his eyes, breathing in uneven breaths as he clamped his hands over his ears and somehow soothing the thoughts determined to run rampant. But every time he let his guard down, snippets of thought would slip through—fragmented phrases, stray judgments, random anxieties—taking up headspace like ghosts he couldn’t shake. 

‘Why does he get everything? It should be me.’

‘The world would be better off without most of them, if not all.’

‘Where the hell is my ramen?’

‘I hope I didn’t get stood up. I sent her Uber money.’

Nothing about this made sense. It was impossible—just yesterday, his life had been normal, and now he was hearing voices that sounded exactly like his friends’ private thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some supernatural CW drama, no Halloween special with a secret message all along for the protagonist. This was real life, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was somehow…reading minds.

The thought sparked a fresh jolt of panic, twisting his insides into knots. It was a fear he hadn’t known lurked within him, clawing its way to the surface and leaving his stomach churning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force it away, to dismiss it as some ridiculous, passing delusion. But the voices only grew louder, like an insistent, rising tide that wouldn’t let him brush this off as a mere joke or a temporary glitch in the simulation. No, they clung to him, refusing to fade—unyielding, pressing against his mind as if daring him to question his own sanity.

Then there was a knock. Soft at first, followed by the hesitant creak of the door easing open. Chan barely registered it, too consumed by the relentless flood of thoughts racing through his head, repeating to himself, “You’re not real, you’re not real…”

“Chan?”

His eyes flew open, finally taking in the figure silhouetted in the doorway—you. Your expression was a blend of concern and hesitation as you stepped cautiously into his room. A pang of surprise coursed through him, igniting a spark of defensiveness that flared to life within him, seeing you making the weight on his head worse. He forced himself to hold your gaze, feeling exposed under the weight of your possible scrutiny. “W-what do you want?” he stammered, the words escaping him in apprehension.

You raised an eyebrow, though your usual edge seemed softened. “Minghao asked me to come get you. He’s worried. Looks like he was right—finally lost your mind, or something?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, barely keeping his voice steady.

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan—”

“Save it.” He cut you off, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he took a half-step back, almost as if he expected you to throw something back his way. Just as you always have. “I’m not gonna take whatever crap you’re planning, so if that’s your game, just forget it.”

You blinked, caught off guard, a flash of irritation tightening your expression. “Wow,” you muttered, crossing your arms with a look that was half offense, half amusement. “Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”

“I’m not feeling well, alright? And you don’t make it any easier. If you think I’m going to keep letting you walk all over me, forget it. Go pick on someone else.”

“Wow, look at you finally picking up your backbone from the floor,” you taunted, slowly closing the distance between you. Your voice dripped with mockery as you studied him, taking in the tense lines of his posture and the way his jaw clenched in irritation. “If this is about the party, the offer still stands. I know what I said, but—”

“But nothing. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now. Just piss off.” His voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive, as if he was trying to shield himself from your probing.

“Ooh, look at you using big words,” you snickered tilting your head as you leaned in slightly, your eyes narrowing in challenge. “Is all the stress of pleasing everyone finally catching up to you? Or are you just realizing you’re not capable of doing something that requires responsibility?”

Chan stepped closer, piercing through you with a sharp glare as your smile broadened, infused with a stubborn determination that only irritated him further. No matter what he said, you remained resolute, and he could sense his resolve beginning to crack under the weight of your taunts, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Or,” he began, feeling the voice in his head finally recede as a surge of courage washed over him. “I have so much of my own shit going on. Ever thought about that? Now, why don't you turn around and mind your goddamn business before  I should teach you how to shut up while I’m at it.” The dominance in his tone surprised even him, and for the first time, he felt like he was finally in control of himself and his newfound ability.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes, the way it deepened the timbre of his voice, radiating uncontainable energy you’d never seen from Chan before. The confidence that once danced in your gaze faltered, giving way to a glint of surprise as you struggled to hold onto your composure. Your lips parted slightly, words caught in your throat as you processed his unexpected boldness—and the effect it was having on you.

‘Holy shit.’

Your voice echoed in his mind, sending a thrill through him as his lips stretched from ear to ear menacingly. Finally—finally—he was the one with the upper hand.

“What? Nothing to say now?” he challenged, relishing the moment.

‘Holy shit, he’s so hot when he’s mad.’

Confusion softened his features for a brief moment, and he couldn’t help but let out a, “What?”

“I…I didn’t say anything.”

‘Oh god, am I sweating? Can he smell me? Holy shit, he’s so close to me right now.’

Chan wasn’t sure what he was hearing right now. Especially whatever this was. His mind was already spinning from the obnoxiously loud and relentless voices echoing in his head from earlier—this was something else. The anxiety of your voice in his head, laced with something vulnerable he’s never seen in you before, threw him off-kilter. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he processed the stray thoughts that weren’t his own, thoughts that broke through the background noise with an unexpected force.

He drew in a breath, barely steady, as he took in every flicker of your expression—the way your lips quivered as if on the edge of saying something, then closed again, and how your gaze dropped just briefly, as if to gather strength, before lifting to meet his, defiant but with a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. That simmering frustration from earlier dissolved, replaced by a charged curiosity that spread through him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his words roll out slowly, teasingly, testing the waters of this sudden change in power.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard, your shoulders tensing as though bracing against an invisible force. He could practically feel the hurried, jumbled thoughts in your head racing, flickering across your face—hesitation, curiosity, that rare glint of resolve that never seemed to completely fade. It was almost…endearing.

The moment felt charged, like standing on the brink of something electrifying and forbidden. Chan found himself leaning into it, savoring the way his voice dropped, roughened, responding instinctively to this unguarded version of you.

“What?” he murmured, his smile laced with challenge. “Cat got your tongue?”

You drew in a slow breath, fingers clutching the doorframe behind you as if anchoring yourself, your gaze flickering from his face to his hands and then back again, as though the very air around you had thinned. 

"Just…” Your voice faltered, lingering in the air, yet you held his gaze, a reluctant tension in your eyes, as if resisting an urge falling deep down a pit you’ve already managed to avoid for so long.

“Just what?” he pressed, amusement saturating his tone, relishing in your timid silence.

You hesitated, pressing your lips together before looking away. “Just… get back to work,” you muttered, fingers clenching the door frame for a moment before finally releasing it as you turned to go.

‘That…was crazy.’

Chan watched you leave, barely holding back a grin as a strange, exhilarating sense of control lingered. For the first time, he felt like he had turned the tables. This bizarre predicament suddenly had its perks.

As the thought settled, another realization dawned: maybe these powers—or whatever they were—could be harnessed. And you, of all people, might just be the key. Finally, it seemed you had some use after all.

The rest of the day passed with surprising ease, a sense of control settling over Chan as he slowly came to terms with this new ability. Whatever this was, if it meant you kept your distance and stayed in check, now it was about time you tasted a bit of your own medicine.

Meanwhile, you kept to the far side of the room, throwing him occasional glances that were equal parts wary and curious, as if still processing the shift that had unfolded between you. The quiet in your demeanor was foreign—almost like a subtle retreat—but Chan could still hear every single thought racing through your mind, echoing around him, feeding his ego.

‘Fuck, why is he looking at me like that?’

The echo of your uncertainties only made Chan’s grin widen. Each new thought layered itself over the rest, but somehow, yours always came through with striking clarity, as if your mind was the loudest voice in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was honing in on it by instinct or if his newfound ability had a mind of its own, drawn to you by sheer force of will—or intrigue.

‘It’s like he’s seeing right through me…oh my god, can you see my underwear or something? I’m gonna kill myself.’

You visibly clenched your thighs, turning away from Chan to avoid his gaze but he was the only thing on his mind. You couldn’t even enjoy the game you were playing anymore. 

‘God, he looks really good…makes me wanna take him in the back and tie my hair up–shit, how long is gonna stare at me?’

As each thought drifted by, Chan skillfully sifted through the chaos, honing in on the captivating essence of your unguarded musings. A swell of pride blossomed within him as he recognized that this ability to read minds might not be a curse after all; it was a remarkable gift, one potent enough to give him control over someone as difficult as you

"Leaving so soon, dearest customer?” Chan drawled, leaning against the wall by the exit, his eyes tracking every movement as you gathered your things, your grip tightening around the strap of your backpack.

‘Was he…waiting for me?’

He scoffed, removing his name tag as he did at the end of every shift, a knowing glint in his eyes as he held your gaze, refusing to look away. “You just seem…distant. Thought I’d check in.”

‘He was thinking about me?’ The thought sparked something in you, and you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Maybe you should focus on yourself for once, and I don’t mean…” Your gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, warmth spreading up your neck.

‘Not that I’d be entirely against it,’ you thought with a quiet chuckle.

With a step forward, his confidence seemed to fill the space between you, his eyes sweeping over you with a boldness that made you catch your breath. He regarded you with a half-lidded gaze, as though he could see through you, a look that sent a prickle of goosebumps over your skin. “Only you would make my concern for you about my genitals,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Think about them often, do you?”

You nearly stumbled, his words unraveling your composure as he turned your teasing back on you with a mastery that left you momentarily speechless. “You…”

“Was I on the money? It’s showing on your face.”

You shook your head lightly, brushing past him without a word, pretending the encounter hadn’t rattled you. But as you moved, he followed, a faint smirk lingering as he kept pace just behind you, relishing in the control he held. Chan tuned into the steady stream of thoughts he could almost feel buzzing around your mind—every second of fluster, every trace of hesitation.

With each step, he could sense your resolve slipping, see the barely concealed tension in your hurried stride as you exited the café, almost like you were running but with no clear destination in mind. And he kept watching, unhurried, savoring every moment as he let his presence linger just enough to keep himself quietly literally in the back of your mind, conflicted with the current predicament.

“Where are you going? You never did answer my question,” he called after you, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, refusing to let your stride falter. “You’re being weird today.”

‘Need to stop myself from jumping him with the way he’s looking at me,’ your thoughts betrayed you, louder than you’d like.

He raised an eyebrow, matching your pace with ease. “Speak for yourself. It’s like you can’t help but avoid me. Almost like you’re hiding something.”

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, though the effort was as shaky as it was bold. “Wow, nosy much? If I didn’t know better, Chan, I’d think you’re obsessed with me or something.” ‘If that’s the case, God smite me right now.’

“Sounds like you’re projecting.” Chan closed the gap between you, stepping so close only a half-arm’s length separated you. His eyes swept over you, catching the subtle quiver you tried to hide. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your obsession is the reason you can barely look me in the eyes right now. Or maybe you’re undressing me with them. Is that it?”

‘Please, for Christ’s sake, I am two seconds away from tearing the clothes off your back and making you shut up with my mouth,’ the thought flashed hot and unfiltered, betraying you in every glance.

Chan’s grin widened, reveling in the crackling tension radiating from you. "Careful with where your eyes are going," he murmured, voice low and teasing. “You don’t know what I might have to do about it if you don’t.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving you rooted in place, your final unguarded thoughts echoing in his head as he went back home.

‘Maybe that's all I want to do now.’

In the days leading up to Halloween, you’d been keeping your distance, and Chan’s telepathic abilities showed no signs of fading. Every day, you kept to the same routine—avoiding his gaze, interacting with your shared friends, and hiding those unspeakably dirty thoughts behind a prissy, composed facade. At first, Chan found it amusing, this secret insight into your mind, but as the days wore on, he became more curious, more intrigued. How much of what you showed the world actually aligned with those hidden, guilty desires?

His gaze drifted to the costume hanging in his closet like an eyesore—a dinosaur suit that, though comical, would probably have him sweating profusely all night. Then there was Soonyoung’s “thirst trap” suggestion, an outfit that showed way more skin, something Chan had immediately rejected and returned but still left in the back of his mind. However, an idea began to take shape, a clever compromise that might just keep your attention exactly where he wanted it. For experimental reasons, of course.

You didn’t come into work that day, likely dodging him on purpose, which only left Chan to navigate the usual mundane thoughts of the café’s patrons—mostly comments about costumes or Halloween plans. Without your thoughts slipping into his mind, the day seemed flat, dull even.

“Hey, Chan.” ‘Hello body-ody-ody.’

Chan caught Jeonghan’s stare as he stood there in a rabbit costume, the moment stretching out just a beat too long. Chan’s confidence wavered just a bit, a warm flush creeping up his neck as he glanced down, lightly fiddling with the arms of his dinosaur onesie, which were tied loosely around his waist. He was half-bare beneath the café lights, with only a simple chain dangling around his neck, and suddenly the whole look felt a little bolder than he’d intended.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his voice softening as he managed, “Uh…am I doing too much?” He could feel his cheeks warm as he looked up again, almost as if he expected Jeonghan to burst out laughing any second. But instead, Jeonghan’s expression softened, a crooked smile forming, clearly more amused than anything.

“...Huh? Oh, sorry, I was looking at your body.”

Chan’s cheeks flushed as he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. “Bro,” he muttered, clearly flustered.

“Chan, you’re fine. It’s Halloween, dressing like a slut is normal in this time of year.” Jeonghan clapped him on the shoulder.

“Jeonghan…”Chan murmured, half-scolding but feeling even more self-conscious under Jeonghan’s praise.

“In fact, I’m happy you’re finally putting yourself out here. I would think the eye candy I hired would sell himself off a little more,” Jeonghan chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘And man, did I nail that hire.’

Chan blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

‘I’m not,’ Jeonghan thought proudly, then said aloud, “I’m not.” Jeonghan’s devilish smile widened as he subtly nodded toward the crowd filling the café. Among the usual patrons were a few fresh faces, particularly a growing group of college-aged girls who seemed unable to keep their eyes off Chan.

Chan’s thoughts drifted back to that morning. He’d been in the stockroom, reorganizing supplies while Minghao ran the front, completely unaware of the number of glances that had slipped through the cracked door, trailing over him as he worked. Now, seeing the lingering stares, he realized his costume had sparked more than just Halloween spirit—it had created quite a stir, evening out it’s usually male dominated atmosphere.

Now he was starting to wonder if he’d been filtering out the roaming thoughts a little too well, considering what he’d missed:

‘What is that costume even…? Actually, I don’t even care. He’s so yummy…’

‘I’m literally drooling. Oh my god, he just looked at me—I’m shaking.’

‘Did guys this hot always work here? Guess I’ll have to come by more often now.’

‘I kind of want to get his number…maybe then he’d let me ride his—’

Chan's eyes widened as the wave of unabashed admiration washed over him. He hadn’t expected this much attention, and a shy grin crept onto his face. “I-I get it now. Um… wow.”

He threw a timid glance toward their corner, and the response was immediate: the girls erupted in muffled squeals, giggling and whispering as if sharing secrets too wild to be spoken aloud. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and infatuation, lingering on him even as they leaned into each other, cheeks flushed, exchanging looks that made Chan feel both flattered and exposed.

“See? You’re a staple here, and you’re doing great,” Jeonghan said with a grin. “Rack up those tips, and when you clock out, fill me in on any last-minute details about the party tonight. Just in case I missed anything.”

“Sure, Jeonghan.”

Now that Chan had come to terms with the fact that his costume was effective for a similar demographic, a swell of confidence bubbled within him that you would react the same. All he needed now was a chance to show it off to the right person. But as he glanced around the café, scanning for you amidst the crowd, a tinge of disappointment set in. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter of the spooky festivities, you were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was the reason.

As the hour drew nearer, Chan felt a growing sense of frustration. Maybe he had been misreading your thoughts all along, or perhaps his powers were glitching today. The very idea of having such abilities was absurd, yet here he was, confused as to why he couldn’t detect your voice. He needed to make sense of it all. How could you swing from hating him one moment to lusting after him the next, only to ghost him entirely? Each possibility twisted in his mind, leaving him feeling more lost than ever. The anticipation that had once excited him now felt heavy with uncertainty, gnawing at his confidence just as he was getting used to it.

Seungcheol’s voice rang out with a mix of authority and enthusiasm, echoing through the bustling café. His energy was infectious, as he gestured animatedly, urging everyone to transition from the work grind to the festive spirit. With his usual flair, he rallied the team, his eyes sparkling with excitement for whatever chaos awaited them upstairs. The air buzzed with anticipation as he clapped his hands together, urging the staff to shake off the day’s fatigue and dive into the night’s festivities.

Meanwhile, Chan busied himself with the final preparations for the party, glancing at the door every few moments, hoping to see you walk through it finally. He didn’t have much of a plan but he had the spirit of one, bouncing off in the corners of his mind like the vibrant colors of the haunted jungle punch sloshing around in his red Solo cup. The punch was fruity and something strong, but it did little to calm his growing anticipation. 

Despite the cheerful atmosphere around him, he fought to maintain a carefree demeanor, all while tuning out the cacophony of voices in his head. Racy thoughts and flirtations from other partygoers echoed through his mind, but none of it held the same thrill as the prospect of hearing your voice. Each thought was a distraction, a reminder of the palpable heat that he felt on his skin when he heard your thoughts for the first time and how it made his heart clench for a reason other than annoyance.

He could almost visualize the energy you brought with you, the way your laughter lit up the room, and how your teasing remarks made his pulse pick up pace. Chan found himself nursing the drink, hoping the sugar and alcohol would somehow bridge the gap between him and you not being here like he hoped you’d be. The raucous fun around him only intensified his longing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t be complete without you by his side.

‘Oh, fuck.’

It hit him like the chime of a clock striking the hour, electrifying and undeniable. Your voice echoed in his mind, pulling his attention as if drawn by an invisible force. He turned to see you entering through the doors, your presence instantly commanding the room.

Your gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. You were enveloped in a dress of the deepest black, hugging your form from chest to waist before flaring out dramatically and hitting just above your knees. Sheer green tights adorned your legs, glimmering under the soft lights, and a pointed hat crowned your head. You were a vision of the Wicked Witch of the West and Chan could see that never had he thought that vision could be so alluring.

In that moment, everything around him dissolved—the laughter, the music, the chatter of partygoers—as his entire focus narrowed in on you. You were breathtaking, igniting something primal within him that he thought he could shut off. But—

‘I could eat you up, Lee Chan.’

A smile tugged at his lips as he followed after you, sharing the same sentiment as your unspoken hunger. “Took you long enough.”

‘Mmh, so he was waiting for me. Again.’

“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” Your chuckle was laced with arrogance. ‘Where the hell is his shirt? And why couldn’t he have given me the pleasure of taking it off?’

“You’ve been avoiding me, which is unusual for you,” Chan remarked sarcastically, watching intently as you poured yourself a drink, bending his arm in a way that not-so-effortlessly flexed his upper arms. “And you didn’t come by the café at all today.” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his gaze. “I thought it might have something to do with me.”

“You?” Your incredulity echoed in your mind. ‘Lee Chan? You were worried about me?’

You stepped closer, invading his space with a confidence that sent a thrill through him. Your gaze traced a deliberate path from his eyes, down the strong line of his jaw, pausing to appreciate the way the light danced across his bare skin. It dipped lower, gliding over the defined contours of his chest, each muscle accentuated by the flickering glow of the party lights. You lingered at his waistband, taking in the way the fabric clung to him seductively.

As your eyes returned to his, there was a spark of mischief in them that didn’t need mind reading to understand, leaving the recipient breathless. The air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken words but clear dialogue, thick with a tension that wrapped around you both. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, drawing him closer to you. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in this charged moment, as if the very atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

“Yeah. Me.” Chan confirmed, his grin widening.

“Well, look who took the time to finally make it.” You both felt a weight on your shoulders as someone drove in between you both, becoming the deli meat in this strange sandwich. 

Soonyoung hugged his cheeks between your faces and grinned, oblivious as always to his surroundings. “Hey, guys.”

‘Good, I stopped the fight before they decked it out in front of everyone.’ 

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist and forcing a smile. “I see you’re recycling your costume from last year.”

“Uh, it’s not a reuse! This is clearly a brand-new bodysuit, complete with paws!” He lifted his tiger mitts dramatically, waving them in front of your face as if trying to convince you of their novelty. “Very new and totally fierce!”

“Oh, of course, you look good.” You chuckled, genuinely appreciating his energy.

Soonyoung then turned his attention to Chan, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa, Chan! Look at you, buddy! I told you showing off a little skin would do you good, and wow, look at all this!”

He let out an exaggerated whistle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our sexy little dinosaur! You’re making all the other costumes look bad!”

“Okay, okay, thanks, Soon.” Chan let out a hearty laugh, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks as he playfully patted his friend’s shoulder. He quickly shrugged him off, attempting to create a buffer to ward off Soonyoung’s inevitable groping.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re supposed to be,” You teased, “Couldn’t tell from the lack of clothes.”

Chan snorted, his amusement bubbling to the surface. “I’m clearly showcasing my costume from the waist down—tail included,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “But just remember, even if my costume is down there…” He raised his fingers and motioned to his eyes, an impish glint in his gaze “…my eyes are definitely up here.”

‘What if I want to look at what’s underneath the costume?’

‘What’s going on here...?”

Chan can’t help but grin at the challenge in your eyes while blatantly ignoring the confusion in Soonyoung’s.

“Showing off the merchandise but not letting people browse? You’re not exactly running a lucrative business here, Lee Chan.” 

“Who says I’m running a business?” Chan shot back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m simply looking for..exclusive clientele.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, an invitation wrapped in flirtation.

‘I might have to sample a bit of that to see if it’s to my taste, which I’m sure it will be,’ you thought, wishing you could say it out loud. Instead, a soft giggle escaped your lips, though Chan caught the thought loud and clear. A playful grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leaned in just a little closer, seeing the playfulness dance in your eyes.

“You guys are speaking weird,” Soonyoung chimed in, his words slightly slurred as the effects of the alcohol began to show. He swayed a little, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

Chan patted his striped friend on the back with a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you check if Jihoon needs help with the music, buddy? You’d be a real asset.” 

“Oh, I would be so good at that!” Soonyoung declared, practically bouncing on his heels before darting off with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Chan turned back to you, arching an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye, eager to stretch out the moment. “So, did you bring anything special to offer?”

“Just some wine that Minghao practically wrestled away from me when I walked through the front door,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a feigned exasperation. “Have you sorted out those party games you were so excited about?”

“Should be starting in a couple of minutes,” he assured, his gaze flicking around the party setup, but the warmth of his attention remained fixed on you. “In the meantime, feel free to indulge in the snacks or candy. They’re just as sweet as you.”

‘Oh?’

“How thoughtful of you,” you compliment, pleasantly surprised.

“Forgot to mention the warheads, but still considerably sweet.”

The night unfolded like a game of push and pull, with Chan pulling you in more than he ever had before. The playful tension crackled between you, and he could tell that the idea of playing hard to get was on your mind tonight. Even with all the distractions around you, your thoughts were surprisingly coherent—you wanted Chan, and he knew it. Yet you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. That was when he realized that the party games he had planned would serve as the perfect tool to tilt the odds in his favor.

“Alright, everyone, gather around! On behalf of our activities coordinator, Chan, I’ll be hosting the game he selected for us tonight. Why don’t you tell us what it is, Chan?” Seungcheol announced, his tone playful as he gestured for Chan to take the spotlight.

Chan stepped forward, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Tonight, we’ll be playing manhunt—a twist on hide and seek with major stakes. The last person standing will win a grand prize, and the seeker who finds the most players will earn a reward just as significant. There will be three seekers.” He paused for effect, relishing the eager anticipation in the room. “The rules are simple: (1) no running, (2) you must reveal yourself once your name is called, and (3) most importantly, have fun. The prizes will be unveiled after the game ends.”

Vernon raised his hand eagerly. “Is the prize money?”

“Vernon, what did I just say?” Chan replied, suppressing a grin as he earned a solemn nod in response.

“Is there a time limit?” Mingyu chimed in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“Forty minutes.”

Wonwoo started to raise his hand. “What about—”

“Enough questions!” Seungcheol interrupted, chuckling as he saw the anticipation on everyone’s faces. “Chan, pick your seekers.”

Chan rubbed his hands together, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the crowd, already knowing who he wanted. “I choose Joshua, Seokmin, and myself. While Seungcheol counts to twenty, the rest of you will scatter and hide.” His grin widened, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And remember, don’t get caught. Losers will face punishment, too,” he added, eliciting a collective groan from the group.

Seungcheol stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for the helpers to shut off all the lights, leaving the entire floor of the building pitch black and ready for the taking. “Starting now. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”

The harmonious sound of footsteps retreated from the room, the darkness perfectly concealing any shadows that might betray anyone’s position. Chan needed no light to do what he had to do but turned on his phone camera the moment the counting ended. He met the eyes of his fellow seekers, barely visible in the glow of their phone lights, anticipation clear on their faces. “We’ll cover our own ground until we run out of places to search, then it’s a free-for-all,” Joshua suggested.

“Got it. I’ll head out first,” Chan insisted, earning a collective nod and finding his own path.

He navigated through the stream of thoughts, weaving between them like a radio dial tuning into a specific frequency, determined to hone a singular voice. 

‘Ugh, why did I have to choose this one to hide in? This is such a bad idea.’

Chan smiled recognizing the familiar pitch, beelining straight for the sound, passing the other voices that may interrupt his route.

In a singular room, his in particular, you were the only one loud enough to break through.

‘Oh, shit, someone’s here. Please go away, please go away.’

No matter how carefully you tried to muffle your presence, it radiated from the closet, an open invitation to Chan’s mind-reading senses. He crept closer, footsteps soft as whispers, his hand hovering over the knob. With a slow, deliberate movement, he eased it open, revealing your figure barely concealed behind the racks of his half-filled closet. Your eyes darted to his, and a quiet “Fuck…” slipped out as he stepped inside, claiming the cramped space beside you.

The closet was shadowed in near-darkness, the room's lights off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating through the slits of the closet in faint, wispy beams. As your eyes adjusted, you could just make out the silhouette of Chan, his figure close, a playfully smug smile catching the dim light as he settled in front of you.

‘What is he–’

Chan lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before you could utter a protest. His eyes held yours with an intensity that had your pulse racing, each beat a rapid tattoo under the thin skin of your neck. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway outside, the other seekers passing by Chan’s room without a second thought, oblivious to the two of you hidden mere inches apart.

‘He’s so close. He smells so good,’ you thought, the hint of his cologne making your breath hitch. Chan couldn’t help the tiny grin tugging at his lips—props to him for choosing the good cologne today.

‘He’s practically pressed against me. Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like?’

Chan stifled a laugh, stepping even closer, until the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable. In a whisper, he teased, “Try not to get caught.”

“But you—” you started, barely finding your voice to remind him that he was in fact one of the people you’re not supposed to get caught from, only to have it die on your lips as his hand pressed lightly on the wall beside you, leaving little room to breathe, let alone escape.

“Shh,” he murmured, eyes glinting as he held you captive against the panel, a hair’s breadth away. 

“Chan…” you murmured, half-breathless, gazing up at him with a mixture of confusion and exhilaration as the closeness left you dizzy, the space between you charged and impossibly small.

His eyes drifted down, seeing your lips pursed slightly in direction, calling to his attention, begging to be claimed.

‘He’s staring again.’ your thighs clenched against each other, hiding the pool of your heat as you could feel it seep through your panties. ‘He looks at me like this any longer I might just fuck him right here.’

Chan shifted closer, his nose grazing yours, so close he could catch the faint sweetness lingering on your breath. "You have to be quiet…real quiet," he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“W-why?” you stammered, the question coming out in a whisper as his hands found your hips, drawing you against him with a gentle but possessive pull.

He paused, his eyes flicking between yours, a soft smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Because,” he breathed, his voice sending a delicious warmth down your spine, before he leaned in, closing the miniscule gap and bridging you together in the sweetest of symphonies.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god–’

His hand clasped against your cheek, hips digging against yours and pinning you to the wall as his tongue traced in the inside of your mouth, exploring you until he could familiarize himself. He felt bound to you, having taste what’s been distant thought now a full blown movie, a movie that he'd rewatch until the day he dies. 

Your hand caressed the back of his neck, tenderly kneading his skin and pushing yourself closer to his body. The hands that ached to touch him found their peace, gliding on his skin and feeling the outline of his body, through every contour and crevice, so hot it’s sweltering, simply melting underneath him.

‘This is so awesome…don’t ever make this stop…’

He held you by your thigh, brought it to his exposed side, and lifted you from the ground, crushing his weight against you to keep you in place. His eagerness poked against your stomach, taunting you with its size, and parting your mind for thoughts of its sensation plunging inside you, wrecking havoc.

‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum thinking about want I’d do when I fuck him.’

Chan softly chuckled, pulling away and looking at the glisten in your eyes, feeling your skin flushed against him, hearing how your mind screamed for him in ache. “Are you—“

“Yes,” you gingerly nodded, not giving him a second to finish his sentence, “Whatever it is. Yes. Or no. Or whatever.”

‘Good god, get a grip. Desperate much?’

Chan’s hand crept under the fabric of your skirt, sliding down beneath the layer of green pantyhose and underwear, your vicious slickness immediately coating his fingers. “I like you a little desperate,” he confessed in staggered whispers before slotting his lips between yours again. 

Your throbbing cunt thrummed beneath his digits, pulsing around him as he pushed on inside, already coating his knuckles. You seized around him, clenching your stomach, as a clear moan escaped you.

‘What was that?’ Chan sensed Seokmin’s thoughts a mere meters away, franticness in his eyes and the voice of his fellow seeker followed after. “Hello?”

“Hey Seok, Just me!” Chan covered for you, fingers thrusting as they curled up inside you. “I hit my foot on something, so I’m taking a minute breather in my room. No one's here!”

“Mmh, okay, Buddy. Be more careful!”

As soon as the coast was clear, his attention averted back to you. “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”

His hand clamped over your mouth and blocking sounds from leaving as he entered another finger, feeling your muffles hummed satisfyingly against his palm. His smile stretched to the corner of his face. “I told you I’d make you shut up wouldn’t I?”

You rocked into the merciless paces of Chan’s fingers, feeling them massage you in and out, as his palm ground itself against your clit. You head knocked back against the wall behind you, joined by Chan at your hip, letting his fingerss fuck you the way you wish his cock finally would. ‘Oh Lee Chan, Lee Chan, Lee Chan…’

You steadied your arms around his shoulders, eyes fluttering in and out of focus, while your hips snapped back him. It was second nature at this point, responding to him with nothing but open arms.

‘His fingers…my god, his fucking fingers…’

“Faster? Deeper?” Chan offered, sweat dampening tendrils hitting at his eyes. 

You nodded, giving no coherent answer as he took away your ability to breathe. ‘Yes, both, please.’

He’d give it to you, watching as tears swelled up in eyes from ecstasy, ramming his digits until he didn’t care who could hear the delicious squelching, the manhunt game so far back in subconscious, it was practically nonexistent. 

‘Needed him so bad, need him to fuck me so stupid I could feel him in my throat…Lee Chan…’

Even without mind reading, the look in your eyes told him everything. Your gaze was intense, charged with an incredible sense of longing, as if it held secrets that could start wars or shatter worlds. There was something almost dangerous in it, introducing him to a hunger he couldn’t ignore. How had he never noticed this before? It practically screamed at him to cross these invisible lines. And for a heartbeat, the world felt as if it teetered on the edge, making him realize his touch unleashed something neither of you could hold back from.

When you contracted around his fingers, there was no better word than heaven, the thick release in his enveloping grasp, collecting at the cup of his hands.

Chan showed a hint of mercy, letting your feet settle back on the ground. You pried your tired eyes open, letting the faint moonlight help you take in the dreamy sight before you as you slowly recovered from the waves of your climax. Chan, clearly intrigued by the quiet of your mind, ran his tongue along the underside of his palm, jolting you back to life as you watched, breath hitching at the sight.

‘Oh my…’

Chan grinned, his tongue dragging against every curve, every wrinkle, following even the drip running down his forearm, his eyes not breaking a beat from you as he ate your cum off his fingers. He pressed against you, sweaty and flushed, ensuring every bit of you laid flat on his tongue, swallowing every sweet drop of that golden nectar, softly moaning about its flavor. “Better than my favorite candy.”

‘Oh, this man needs to get me pregnant.’

“A couple more to go! Watch out!” Joshua shouted from down the hall.

There was a brief moment of trepidation Chan felt, cursing his friend mentally for getting their tasks done so quickly, stunned that you and him were able to keep hidden for so long. Chan knew he had to make a move, and quickly. 

Shoving up the skirt of your dress, he tore the delicate seams of your green stockings, and a gasp escaped your lips before you had the chance to hush yourself. As soon as you were exposed, Chan sank to his knees, wasting no time. He gripped the ruched hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in his hands in rushed anticipation, pushing aside your panties with his teeth and burying his face inside your warm pussy.

‘This little whore, oh my..’

His tongue pushed flat against you, taking you in at long stripes as his eyes bordered on impatience and deliberate, savoring at how you squirmed against him when his pink muscle curled and licked circles at your entrance. You pushed your weight on him, cried at the thought of him eating you alive when any moment you could get caught.

‘He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Fuck, those pretty eyes looking back at me. He looks so good eating me out. God, fuck.’

He took your free hand, guiding it to the back of his head, gesturing you to hold on, and like magic, the lower half of his face vanished between your wet folds. 

“Oh gah–” You’re the one to shut yourself off this time with the sharp bite of your lip, focused on the passionate exploration of Chan’s tongue–fucking you with intent, and you fought off the urge to scream. He held you up by your thighs, the darkness in his eyes zoning in on you, drunk in thought of witnessing another orgasm, and amplified your senses with the presence of his fingers. You gripped his hair for dear life–further encouraging him to go deeper–worshiping how the soft strands felt against the pads of your fingers as Chan worshipped every inch inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, combing through his hair. “Hmm, that’s so nice…god, you’re so hot eating me out like that…”

Chan was starting to confuse your words for thoughts, or maybe was it your thought for words, whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear them, your delightful praises directed towards him, or see that beautiful face contort with pleasure.

Your hips began to do that familiar jerk, your pelvis hitting his nose as you sensed something explosive near. Your sounds of ache muffled under your hands, and you twisted your hips, gasp breaking out of you helplessly, and Chan got that familiar fresh flavor of you on his tongue as it dripped out of you. 

He helped himself up to pin you back on the wall, the taste of yourself in his mouth, startling addictive, and you reciprocated, getting everything that he’s worked for.

As he pulled away, staring back at you with an unspoken intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you going.”

Chan led you out of the closet, cum still dripping down your legs,  joining the rest of the group to announce your victory: a month-long coupon for free snacks at the gaming café. The triumphant smile on your face as you timidly crossed your legs, only hinting at the far more thrilling victory you’d just shared in Chan’s closet.

The other seekers playfully elbowed him, teasing him for being a terrible seeker. "I’m shocked you found anyone with how long you took!" they laughed. But the mischievous glint in his eyes was hidden under a veil of innocuous feigned confusion. “Guess, I really suck at this,” he shrugged, “Glad you guys had fun.”

And everyone did have fun—so much so that nearly the whole crowd insisted on another round. A round that you and Chan would find just as—if not even more—entertaining than the first.

As soon as Chan locked the door for the PC Cafe, he reclaimed your lips, feeling for your heat underneath your dress and its familiar throb. “Finally, some privacy.”

As fellow hiders this round, you slipped away to a more secluded spot, somewhere private enough to pick up right where you’d left off. Here, with no one else to interrupt, the two of you could finally delve into that spark that you both have only begun starting to understand, the excitement between you simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be explored in the quiet privacy you’d carved out.

‘Lee Chan, the man you are.’

He slipped you out of your dress and let it hit the ground, leading you to behind the counter and pressing you against it. You looped your arms around him, tugging his dinosaur onesie off with your foot and kicking it to the ground along with your dress, caressing his cock protected under a layer of his briefs. “Chan, please I want you.”

‘More than you’d ever know.’

“I know,” He chuckled, tearing off the final obstacle of your underwear. And stuffing it in the abandoned skin of his Halloween costume. “And I’ll show just the kind of treatment you get when you ask nicely.”

He flipped you around, tearing your pantyhose higher on your ass, and bent you over in front of him. He slowly, and deliberately, fished out his cock, letting it slap against the curve of your ass, hearing the pleads inside your head.

‘God, he so knows what he’s doing. What a tease.’

His lips connected to the back of your neck, with a free hand squeezed around the flesh of your breast. “Say it.”

“Chan…” you whined. ‘Don’t make me beg.’

“I want to hear how much you want me inside of you. I need some transparency from you.”

“Of course, I want it, Chan.” You back yourself against him, leading the head of his cock towards your puffy slit. “Please.”

“Use your words, dirty girl,” He harshly whispered, invoking a feeling not only rare but foreign inside of you as you clenched around nothing.

“I-I want you inside me, Chan.”

“Doing what?”

You whined, “Fucking me.” ‘Using me.’

He scoffed, brimming with pride, readjusting your position as he saw fit, and slowly pushed himself inside you. When you adjust to his size, you had only begun to realize the impact it’s have on you, how it’s be hard to forget such a sensation, until he’s dragging his cock in and out of you. You clawed on wooden counter, bracing yourself, and echoing a low, long groan as he covered every inch of him in your slick walls. 

The first thrust was methodical, calculated, determined to show you the whole range of what he’d give you and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated, but as he found his pace, you began to find your balance. “Oh, fuck…”

You were glued to him, his hips pounding himself against you as his hands collected your breasts in his hands, lips kissing up your neck and behind your ear. “Gonna make you fucking wish your only regret was not fucking me sooner.”

How he easily found your spot was mystery – one that you didn’t think too long and hard on – until he just kept doing it, pulling you back against him as he released his inhibitions. Your sweat pilled against each other, unsure where yours started and where his ends, your bodies intertwined into one sickening display of what almost a year of unspoken lust looked like.

‘Oh, I could get used to this. If he fucked me like this everyday, I wouldn’t complain for a single second.’

And Chan was almost counting on that.

He turned you around again, missing your face and admiring how your disheveled hair only framed its intoxicating aura as he lifted you against the counter and pushed his cock inside you as he towered over you.

The single chain around his neck brushed against your face repeatedly, and calling to your attention loud enough for only Chan to hear.

‘Omg his chain…this is like one of those Twitter memes where fanatics dream of their faves’ chain hanging above their face during sex…and it’s actually happening to me with Chan.’

Suddenly, he had an idea. “Bite on it.”

You blinked at him, registering his words as he suddenly stopped his thrusts. “…What?”

“Bite on my chain while I fuck the living shit out of you.” 

You took your time processing the thought, before slowly leaning in, the chain barely meeting your lips before you took it between your teeth and pulled him down with you.

Chan’s once kind smile warped into something more sinister, more primal, and he granted you what he had promised.

His cock slammed against you, reverberating your walls, and you clung on the counter under you, while your vision flickered to the back of your skull. Gritting against the chain on your enamel, your head could not form words clear in any sense, just the echo of yours skin clashing and Chan reveled in that. “Good fucking girl.”

He hand struck your side, squishing you against the counter, feeding you his raw power course through you until he’s fill you up, over and over again. You feed his ego in a way he never expected from someone and wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let it go with whatever happened next, so he was gonna savor the moment he had.

As his arousal coursed through him, squeezed every ounce of energy out of you, ensuring he’d hear his name on your brain and out your lips. He held your tired body, stroking your sides, panting against your skin, and felt the final release ebb out of him like a stream, coating you in perfect white before settling down a stool nearby, sitting you on his lap as you rested against the security of his strong, broad frame.

Wherever this left the two of you, Chan just knew he needed to have you. And considering the emptiness in his head, he needed you for more than he realized.

[novaursa]

Twin Fires

- Summary: Both you and Aegon have no problem expressing your desires openly and torment everybody in the Red Keep.

- Paring: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 665

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

You sit on the chair beside Aegon, your hand resting lightly on his arm. The room is filled with the dull murmur of the small council meeting, the voices of the Lords Tyland, Larys, Jasper, Otto, and Grand Maester Orwyle blending into an almost rhythmic drone. You can see Aegon's eyes glazing over as his mind drifts away from the discussions of grain supplies and tax levies. You know exactly where his thoughts have gone.

Aegon shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. He can't stop thinking about the night before, the way your skin felt against his, the warmth of your breath on his neck. The council's voices fade into the background as he remembers the way you gasped his name, the look in your eyes as he pulled you closer. His lips twitch into a small, satisfied smile.

"Your Grace," Otto's sharp voice cuts through Aegon's reverie. "Would you care to join us in the present? We were discussing the matter of the Dornish threat on our southern border."

Aegon blinks, attempting to pull himself back to the present. "Yes, yes, of course," he says, though he has no idea what Otto was talking about. His mind is still on you, on the way your hair spread out across the pillows, the way you whispered his name.

Otto's eyes narrow. "It seems your thoughts are elsewhere, Your Grace. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us on what is so captivating."

Aegon feels the eyes of the council on him, but he can't help the smirk that forms on his lips. "Just thinking about my Queen," he says, his voice low and suggestive. "Last night was... eventful."

You feel your cheeks heat at the memory and the implication of his words. The council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, while Otto's face turns a deep shade of red.

"Your Grace," Otto says through gritted teeth, "perhaps now is not the time for such... reflections."

Aegon laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Oh, come now, Otto. Surely even you can appreciate the joys of marriage."

Tyland coughs, trying to hide a smile behind his hand, while Larys's eyes gleam with amusement. Jasper seems to be studying a particularly interesting spot on the table, avoiding looking at anyone.

The Grand Maester clears his throat. "Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand," he suggests diplomatically.

"Yes, let's," Otto agrees, his voice tight. "As I was saying, the Dornish—"

Aegon's thoughts drift away again, this time to the look on Otto's face when he walked in on the two of you in the gardens. Aegon had you pressed up against the stone wall, your skirts hitched up around your waist. Otto had stammered and turned bright red, backing away as quickly as he could.

"Y/N," Aegon says, turning to you with a wicked grin, "do you remember when Grandsire walked in on us?"

You can’t help but laugh softly, nodding. "Yes, I do. He looked like he was about to faint."

Otto's knuckles are white as he grips the edge of the table. "Your Grace, please," he grinds out. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"Lighten up, Otto," Aegon says, waving a hand dismissively. "A little levity never hurt anyone."

The tension in the room breaks slightly as the other council members chuckle. Otto, however, looks like he's about to explode.

"Perhaps we should adjourn for today," Aegon suggests, rising to his feet. "I believe we've accomplished quite enough."

Otto opens his mouth to protest, but Aegon is already moving, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intimate. "Let's continue this discussion elsewhere."

As you leave the room, you can feel the council's eyes on your back, but you don't care. All that matters is the warmth of Aegon's hand in yours, and the promise of what the rest of the day holds.

Aegon leads you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. The flickering torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, creating an intimate atmosphere that sets your heart racing. The echoes of the small council meeting fade away, replaced by the anticipation of what is to come.

Instead of heading to your private chambers, Aegon pulls you toward the grand library, a place of quiet refuge and intellectual pursuit. The scent of old parchment and leather-bound tomes fills the air as you enter, the dim lighting from the candles casting a warm glow on the rows upon rows of books.

"I've been thinking about you all morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can't wait to continue where we left off last night."

You shiver at his words, your own desire mirrored in his eyes. He leads you to a secluded corner, hidden from view by towering bookshelves. Aegon presses you against the polished wood, his hands eager as they roam your body. The library's quiet solitude only adds to the excitement, the risk of being discovered making your heart race.

But just as Aegon is about to pull you into a passionate kiss, a soft cough from behind a nearby shelf makes you both freeze. Aegon straightens, his head snapping towards the sound. Emerging from the shadows, a book in hand and expression stern, is Aemond.

"Aemond," Aegon says, a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn't expect you to be lurking in the library."

"I can see that," Aemond replies dryly, stepping into the candlelight. "Must you always be so public about your... activities, brother?"

Aegon laughs, the sound deep and unabashed. "Why not? What's the point of being king if you can't enjoy yourself?"

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly unimpressed. "There are other ways to enjoy oneself that don't involve making a spectacle."

Aegon pulls you closer, his hand slipping around your waist. "But where's the fun in that, brother? Life is too short to be so serious all the time."

You can feel the tension in the library, but there's also a hint of amusement in Aemond's gaze. He shakes his head, exasperated but not entirely unamused. "You are impossible, Aegon."

"That's why you love me," Aegon replies, grinning. "Now, if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something."

Aemond raises an eyebrow. "Clearly. But perhaps you could exercise a bit more discretion. The walls have ears, and not all of them are friendly."

Aegon waves a hand dismissively. "Let them listen. Maybe they'll learn something."

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. Aegon turns his attention back to you, his eyes dark with intent. "Shall we continue, my love?"

Aemond sighs, shaking his head again. "Very well. I'll leave you to it. But please, try to keep it down this time."

As Aemond turns to leave, Aegon can't resist one last jibe. "Don't be jealous, Aemond. You'll find your own fun one day."

Aemond pauses at the doorway, glancing back with a faint smile. "One can only hope."

The door closes behind him, and you and Aegon are alone once more. Aegon pulls you into a deep kiss, his hands eager and insistent. The interruption seems only to have fueled his desire, his need for you more urgent than ever.

"Now, where were we?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice a seductive whisper.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Right here," you reply, pulling him closer.

As the passion between you reignites, the lingering humor of Aemond's intrusion adds a layer of excitement to the encounter. The grand library might have its hidden eyes and ears, but in this moment, all that matters is the fire burning between you and your king.

Your bodies are entwined, the weight of Aegon's heated skin pressing down on yours as you both clutch desperately at each other in the dimly lit library. The scent of parchment and aged leather fills the air, mixing with the intoxicating musk of your fervent lovemaking. Aegon's platinum blond hair falls over his eyes, glistening with sweat, as he murmurs your name — Y/N — with breathless urgency.

"More, Aegon," you gasp, fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer. His lips are on your neck, your shoulders, everywhere at once, as if he can never get enough of you.

"You always want more," he grins against your skin, his voice a low growl of pleasure and amusement. "And I always want to give it to you."

You arch against him, your breath catching as he moves within you, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. Your world narrows to the sensation of his body, the heat of his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.

Just as the world is about to shatter into a million pieces of ecstasy, the library door slams open with a thunderous crash. "Aegon! Y/N!" Dowager Queen Alicent's voice rings out, sharp and furious.

Aegon jolts, startled, and the sudden motion pushes him deeper into you, causing you both to cry out in unexpected bliss. The impact sends you both stumbling backward into a massive bookshelf. There's a moment of stunned silence before the entire row of shelves begins to topple like dominos, books cascading to the floor in a chaotic storm of paper and bindings.

As the dust settles, you find yourself pinned beneath Aegon, both of you as naked as the day you were born. His violet eyes are wide with a mix of shock and lingering desire, but there's a hint of laughter in them too. You can't help but chuckle softly, the absurdity of the situation taking hold again.

Alicent stands there, her face a mask of fury, flanked by a pale and trembling Grand Maester Orwyle, who looks like he's about to collapse. His precious tomes from the Citadel lie scattered and crushed around you.

"Mother," Aegon starts, still half-laughing, "I didn't hear you knock."

"Knock?" Alicent's voice rises in pitch, her hands clenching at her sides. "You have no sense of shame or propriety! Look at you both!"

You glance at Aegon, then back at your mother, feeling no shame whatsoever. "We were...occupied," you say with a coy smile.

Aegon shifts slightly, still positioned rather intimately, and you can't help but stifle a giggle. "We were, indeed," he agrees, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Alicent throws her hands up in exasperation. "Occupied! In the library! Grand Maester Orwyle has important matters to discuss, and you are here...doing this!"

Orwyle makes a strangled noise, his eyes darting to the ruined books. "My...my tomes..."

Aegon looks around, still atop you, and shrugs. "They can be replaced, Orwyle. Unlike my dear sister-wife, who I cannot get enough of."

You can't help but laugh, reaching up to pull him down for a quick kiss. "Flatterer," you murmur against his lips.

Alicent's face turns an even deeper shade of red. "Enough! Both of you! Get up and get dressed this instant!"

With exaggerated slowness, Aegon finally rolls off you, standing and offering you a hand up. You take it, rising gracefully despite the chaos around you. Neither of you bothers to cover yourselves, reveling in your mother's discomfort.

As you both dress leisurely, Alicent mutters angrily under her breath, and Orwyle looks like he's aged a decade in mere minutes. The library is a mess, but to you and Aegon, it's just another amusing chapter in your reign as King and Queen.

Once clothed, Aegon winks at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Shall we continue this...discussion later once more, my love?"

You return his smile, feeling the heat already rising again between you. "Oh, absolutely, Your Grace. I can't wait."

Alicent groans, turning away with a huff. "Seven save me," she mutters, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Despite her anger, even she can't deny the unbreakable bond you share with Aegon.

You and Aegon stride through the open doors of the library, a sea of wide-eyed servants parting before you. Whispers and shocked glances follow your every step, but you and Aegon remain completely unaffected, wearing expressions of amused indifference. The thrill of your recent encounter still lingers, and you can feel Aegon's hand subtly brushing against yours, a promise of more to come.

"Well," Aegon muses loudly, his voice echoing down the hallway. "Since the library is no longer an option, how about the throne room next?"

You hear a gasp from a cluster of maids, their faces a mix of scandal and fascination. Just as you are about to reply with a cheeky retort, Alicent's voice rings out from the library, where she is still consulting with Orwyle. "Aegon! Y/N! I swear by the Seven, if you even think about it, you'll both be confined to your chambers for a month!"

Aegon grins, leaning close to whisper in your ear. "I think she's bluffing. The throne room would be quite the statement, don't you think?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Perhaps another time, Aegon. We should at least pretend to heed her warnings once in a while."

He sighs dramatically but nods, his arm slipping around your waist as you continue down the hall. "Very well, my Queen. For now."

The next morning, the sun filters through the windows of the council chamber, casting a warm glow over the ancient stone walls. Alicent paces back and forth, her brow furrowed in frustration. Across from her, Otto Hightower sits at a polished wooden table, his expression calm but concerned.

"Alicent," he begins, his tone measured, "we need to address the behavior of the twins. This...scandalous display cannot continue. It undermines their authority and brings dishonor to the throne."

Alicent stops pacing, turning to face her father. "Believe me, Father, I am well aware. Yesterday's debacle in the library was just the latest in a long line of their...indiscretions."

Otto sighs, folding his hands on the table. "We must find a way to curb their impulses. Aegon and Y/N's bond is undeniably strong, but it is also causing disruptions. The court is buzzing with rumors, and the smallfolk are beginning to talk."

Alicent nods, her frustration evident. "I've tried talking to them, scolding them, threatening them with confinement, but nothing seems to work. They simply don't care."

Otto leans back in his chair, considering. "Perhaps we need a different approach. Something more...persuasive. Have you considered involving the High Septon? His influence could carry weight, even with those as headstrong as Aegon and Y/N."

Alicent's eyes widen slightly at the suggestion. "The High Septon? Are we really at that point, Father?"

Otto nods solemnly. "If we are to maintain order and respect, we must consider all options. Aegon is King, and Y/N is Queen, but they must learn that their actions have consequences beyond their own pleasure."

Alicent sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Very well. I will arrange a meeting with the High Septon. Perhaps he can impress upon them the seriousness of their duties."

Otto reaches out to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "It is for the best, Alicent. For the realm, and for them. They must learn to balance their love with their responsibilities."

As Alicent nods, determined but weary, you and Aegon lounge in your chambers, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place. Wrapped in each other's arms, you share a lazy, contented morning, your laughter and whispered promises a stark contrast to the serious discussions unfolding elsewhere in the Red Keep.

Aegon presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. "What do you think Mother and Grandsire are plotting now?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No doubt some scheme to rein us in. But we have each other, Aegon. Whatever they plan, we'll face it."

He smiles, a slow, lazy grin that makes your heart flutter. "Always, my love. Always."

[eelnoise]

with hearts aligned (nsfw!)

zoro x fem!reader this fic's followup btw. takes place between fishman island and PH (yes there's lore!! 🙄! and yes zoro did keep all that shit bottled up for a bit!!) cw: confessions of love, somewhat troubled zoro, not-so-awkward first times (our boy is intuitive okay ?!), piv sex, fingering, cute stuff idk an: okay i know this took a long time but i re-wrote this like 5 times and accidently got hyperfixated on ffxiv and generally needed a break from writing BUT WE ARE BACK BABY !!! wc: 3.4k tagging @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @sleepymarimo @willowbelle @nina-ya

The clinking of cutlery upon plates and chatter among friends fills the small island tavern with animated joy and serene relief. Brook plays the violin somewhere to the left side of the room, though the eager blathering of the crew drowns out the more finer notes and melodies played. 

A well-deserved interruption and a welcome change from the unpredictable nature of the past few day’s events – though for Zoro, it’s a distraction that’s come to an end. Despite the crew being whole again, he still feels a hollowness within – something no amount of eating or drinking or fighting can fill.

And it’s entirely his fault.

You sit across the table from him, sipping at a near-empty glass of wine and discussing something inaudibly with Usopp. He can’t quite read your expression from where he’s seated, but you look interested enough in the conversation. 

And if it’s obvious to himself that he’s keeping you at arm’s length, it’s clear to anyone with a working conscience that he’s doing his utmost to avoid you. The many longing gazes from his peripheral do not go unnoticed, but he dares not to look – for the hurt in your eyes would crush him and sear and stain into his soul.  A far-flung difference from the camaraderie that came before all of this, when the two of you were rarely found an inch too far apart from one another – and now Zoro can’t even look you in the eye. After his many imagined intimate rendezvous,how could he?

With you distracted, he lets his eye wander across your face, to the length of your arm, down to the glass pinched between your fingers – but it comes to rest upon your lips. He watches, transfixed on the flight peek of your tongue behind your teeth when you speak, how your lips twist with each syllable, how they purse when you’re in thought, and the way they stretch across your cheeks when you smile.

Zoro’s throat tightens, a sharp dagger of guilt carving into his chest. He forces his stare to the table, the tiniest sliver of your form still lingering in the corner of his vision. You’ve journeyed this far, fought, bled, and laughed together. And now, for once, he’s unable to find the words to say.

The weight of his inaction bears down on him, leaving him listless. The only respite he’s found is in the distraction of a battle, a thudding, a clash, steel ringing against steel. In those moments, he’s alive, he’s focused, and the words that plague his every waking thought cease to exist. But without the battle, Zoro is left with nothing but the echoes of unspoken desires.

His hand trembles, gripping his mug of ale as he brings it to his lips. The bitterness of the brew does little to quell the fire in his chest. He’s a swordsman, a pirate – not a poet, bard, or a man of words. It’s a mess of feelings. Lust, want, longing, love, all these indescribable sensations that only serve to make Zoro feel weak and helpless and vulnerable when faced with them. He feels like a coward, daring never to speak to you again, never to confess his feelings, and never pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless.

Zoro’s eye meets yours for one singular fleeting moment, the intensity of the connection making his heart race. He knows he can’t keep up this charade, this dance of avoidance – but how does one even confess to these feelings? How does one bridge the gap between comrade and lover? He scratches his chin, trying to come up with a solution, but all he can think of is a single, frustrating fact: he can’t keep running.

Whether it’s every empty bottle he’s seen the bottom of tonight, the last of his resolve wearing thin, or just the sheer guilt of it all that drives him suddenly to his feet, he isn’t sure. Inhaling one of the deepest breaths he’s ever taken, he silently trudges around the table to where you’re seated.

At first, he hovers awkwardly so as to not interrupt the conversation you’re having. Both hands come to rest at either side of the back of your chair and he can feel his pulse through his fingertips on the wood – and when you tilt your head up to look at him, a curious smile twitching at the edges of your cheeks, he cracks.

Zoro clears his throat and forces his gaze. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”

His voice is hoarse as he asks, and he hopes you can’t hear the nerves that lie beneath his words. Surprised by how much he’s sweating and how his heart races against his ribcage, he swallows to regain some semblance of composure.

“It’s important,” he adds, trying not to stumble over his thoughts. It’s a pitiful excuse, but all that comes to mind amidst the maelstrom of emotion in his head.

“Oh, yeah – of course!” You reply with raised brows and begin to stand. Zoro allows you the room to move, taking a step back from the table. “Sorry, Usopp,” you say as you turn and give him a weak shrug, “Remind me where we left off later?”

“No prob!” The sniper shoots a thumbs-up and the two of you exchange a wave before you turn to follow Zoro away from the lively table and out of the tavern.

Zoro leads you to a quiet spot by the docks nearby, where the salty scent of the sea mingles with the faint tang of fish and the distant hum of the island. He can’t bring himself to look at you, electing instead to focus on the water and the twinkling reflection of the night sky in the soft waves.

“Everything okay?” You ask softly, taking a few steps toward him and assuredly taking note of his hesitance. “What’s up?”

“I missed you,” Zoro replies, fixated on the sigh of the shifting tides lapping at the wooden posts below. “A lot.”

“I missed you too, Zoro, but what’s so urgent?” The concern in your tone is apparent and caring, and normally works to soothe him when his mind runs rampant – but this moment, this situation he finds himself in, it does the opposite.

“No,” Zoro shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I missed you - differently from the others.”

“Differently?”

Zoro’s jaw clenches, and part of him wants to jump into the ocean and swim as far away from the island as his arms will take him. The honest admission hangs heavy on his tongue, the weight of the years of denial suddenly threatening to push it out. He pauses, opens and closes his mouth a few times, then finally, with a shaky exhale, he looks you straight in the face.

“I love you.”

The admission hangs between you, the weight of years of suppression. Zoro shifts his weight from one foot to the other, twinges of regret creeping up the nape of his neck.  It takes you a moment to reply, and considering the nature of the confession, it's reasonable. Zoro's nerves feel like hot coals beneath his skin as he watches your face for any sign of an answer.

“...for real?” Your gentle response fills his entire being with a wistful spark of hope.

Zoro's fingers curl into fists. "Yes, for real," he confirms, still not looking up. His heart thuds painfully in his chest, a heavy, leaden weight. All his hopes and fears rest on the outcome of this conversation. He's unsure if he could handle rejection, but he can't go back to the pretense any longer. Zoro swallows, tasting bile at the back of his throat. "I should've told you before now, but I... I'm an idiot.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his voice quiet.

He isn’t sure when you move, but a smaller, softer hand wraps around his – and in an instant, he feels himself relax into your touch. Zoro relaxes his grip, allowing your fingers to entwine with his.

He snaps his gaze towards you, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears. You peer at him, a sweet, crooked smile on your lips and a blush across your face. And when your free hand finds purchase on his cheek, Zoro finds himself leaning in. 

You meet him halfway in a genuine, tender kiss that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Zoro's arms wrap around you and pull you close. The world around falls away as you both delight in the embrace. The kiss is gentle, delicate, and filled with longing. It floods him with an unexpected warmth – and for once, he can't think of the past or the future. He's simply lost in the present moment.

When you finally pull away, Zoro can't help but lean into your palm on his cheek with a bit of a dazed smile on his face. Holding onto your hand, his other hand slowly moves to cup your cheek in return. His heart is pounding, his mind a blank slate tinged with overwhelming happiness. He's lost in your gaze, unable to speak, but he doesn't need to. The moment says everything.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" you murmur, lips ghosting his and thumb trailing upward to gently trace the lower half of the scar that now covers his right eye. "How often I thought of you?"

And then you say it - the words he's only imagined hearing you speak.

"I love you, too.”

Zoro's chest tightens, a lump forming in his throat as he meets your gaze, his heart swelling. Words fail him, the raw emotion in his gut silences his voice.  A slow smile spreads across his lips, a look of awe and joy shadowing his features. He doesn't need words. The simple fact that you feel the same is enough to fill him with warmth and peace. 

Leaning in again, Zoro captures you in another deep kiss – a deep and soulful kiss that speaks volumes. He's consumed by the feeling of being with you, of finally being able to express his love. His hand moves to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he kisses you with all the passion and longing he's suppressed for far too long.

You sigh into him, the sound willingly swallowed by Zoro’s growing hunger. Arms wrap around his shoulders and you press yourself into him, the opened-mouthed kiss quickly turning into a twist of tongues dancing together in a frenzied rhythm with audible smacks of saliva mixing with each meeting of your lips. His hand clutches your hair more firmly, his other hand slipping around her waist to pull you impossibly closer.

The gesture is all-consuming, a whirlpool of desire and affection that leaves him lightheaded. For the first time in years, he feels like he's truly alive, his heart beating in perfect harmony with yours.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Zoro's lips ghost over your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone as he breathes in your scent, savoring every moment. He wants to memorize the taste, the feel, and the sound of your breath as his hands roam over your body, his heart beating a furious tempo.

You let out a small gasp when his lips touch your sensitive flesh, your body reacting to his every move. Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips as he nibbles at your neck, causing your grip to tighten and for you to moan softly into his ear. 

Part of Zoro wants to take you here and now, but what remains of his will stops him. He growls into your neck and lifts you up fully and, – with a little assistance from you –  heads in the direction of the ship anchored nearby. The others wouldn't be back for a while, so why not take advantage of the privacy?

You’re weightless in his arms as he carries you away from the bustle of the small island village and towards the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Zoro can feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants as you kiss and nip along his neck, giggling in his ear when he retaliates with a playful squeeze to your rear and a rumbling growl against your skin.

He wastes little time pushing the door to the men’s quarters open with the tip of his boot, his grip on your hips tightening when he moves to lift you onto the nearest bunk, one hand still clutching your waist while the other travels up under your shirt to caress your chest, deft hands making quick work of unhooking your bra and tossing it aside to be forgotten.

Zoro’s breathing hitches, his eyes dark and lustful as he dips his head to suckle at the swell of your breast. He can feel himself twitching against your thigh, and despite his inexperience, he wants nothing more than to please you. 

He kisses down your body, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue while his hand roams, finding your core already soaked with desire. He pauses, fingers grazing over your clothed slit and feeling you shiver in pleasure. Zoro murmurs your name, and snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of both your shorts and panties before sliding them down your legs in one motion, leaving you naked and bared before him. His own pants follow suit, quickly discarded next to yours.

Zoro's hand finds its way between your thighs again, spreading your folds with ease, and he lowers his head to kiss you once more, his tongue probing your mouth as his fingers gently stroke your clit, drinking in your soft moans.

"Show me." He whispers just loud enough for her to hear. His expression is a loving one, though she notes the slightest bit of hesitance in his words.

Show me how you like it.

You nod and guide his fingers, taking two of the large digits and easing them in circles on your clit. "Not too rough, though," you say patiently, letting go of him with a soft sigh and an encouraging smile. 

Zoro hums in acknowledgment, his thumb and forefinger doing as you ask, the slickness of your pussy allowing his fingers to move easily as he continues to tease at your clit. His other hand rests on your hip, steadying you as his thumb rolls over the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting small moans from you. 

Zoro brushes the tip of his finger against your entrance in an experimental move, and by the way you wreathe and whine, he's urged to continue his work. He slides one past your folds and inside of you, making your toes curl and your back arch.

"Shit–" You sputter out between breathless sighs of desire. "Feels really good..."

One finger becomes two, your inner walls clenching around them as he scissors them in and out of your pussy. There's a wet slosh of sound coming from where you meet, your wetness audibly coating his fingers and dripping down down his wrist. 

Zoro's breath hitches at the sound of your pleasure, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reaction. He's entranced by how your body responds to him, and he can't help but lick his lips as he continues to finger you. He adds a third, the stretch making you gasp and tighten around him.

His pace increases, his fingers swirling and thrusting within you, and he watches as your body writhes and arches beneath him. He can feel the tension building in you, the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.

"Do you want me inside you?" Zoro asks, his voice low and thick with need. He's anxious to give you pleasure, but he's struggling to keep himself from joining his fingers inside you.

"Please," you whine, eyes wide and watery with pleasure but red hot with the need for more. "Need you, Zoro."

Zoro's heart beats wildly in his chest, his own need for you overwhelming as he pulls his fingers from your slick warmth and licks them clean before sitting back on his heels to position himself between your legs. He lines his cock up with your entrance and looks into your eyes, the passion reflected in his own.

Without warning, he thrusts forward, plunging deep into your tightness. You're hot and wet around him, and he lets out a growl of satisfaction as he bottoms out. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to adjust and to revel in the feeling of being connected. He pulls back, slowly at first, then picks up the pace as he leans over you, the headboard digging into the wall with each forceful thrust. Zoro's eyes never leave yours, his gaze locked as if he's trying to absorb every detail of your expression.

Each stroke of his cock against your walls feels heaven-sent, and the taste of you that lingers on his tongue drives him crazy with want. Nails dig into the flesh of his triceps and your back arches, a song of passion belting from between your lips, a serenade made for him and him alone.

Zoro grunts at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more ferocious as he watches your reaction, the sight of you so lost in ecstasy driving him to the brink. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he pounds into you, the sweat glistening on your skin as your bodies collide.

The moonlight trickling in from the window illuminates your body below him. It's a sight better than anything he could dream, your face contorting in bliss and ecstasy, hands clinging harshly onto him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Savoring a feeling that neither wants to forget.

"You're so fucking perfect." Zoro growls, leaning over you to kiss you feverishly, his tongue seeking yours as he fucks you. He can feel the tension building, the way your body tenses and your nails dig into his skin, and he knows you're close. He wants to give you this moment, wants to make you cum as much as he wants to feel it himself.

"Come on," he urges, his voice thick with lust. "Let go for me." The words were a warning, a promise that he wasn't going to last much longer..Zoro increases the pace of his assault, his own release imminent as he watches your face, your eyes half-lidded and flushed with pleasure. Together, you move, driven by the primal need for release.

Zoro's thumb meets your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with the speed of his ministrations. The dual stimulation pushes you over the edge, crying out butchered attempts at his name as your body convulses around him, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Zoro can't hold back any longer, feeling his own climax building as he watches you.

With a roar, he lets go, burying himself deep as he cums, the spasms of your walls milking him as he shudders and groans into your ear, seed spilling inside of you. He pants heavily, leaning over you as he rests on his forearms, his forehead meeting yours. He stays like that long enough to press a quick kiss to your lips before collapsing atop you with a very exhausted, but very relieved sigh. 

You breathlessly hold him close. Cradling his sweaty form to your chest, one hand makes its way into his moss-green tresses to lightly scratch at his scalp. Zoro lets himself relax, letting out a sigh and nestling into your shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling thoroughly sated in your embrace.

Zoro pulls out of you eventually, gently rolling off your body to rest. He pulls you into his side as he nuzzles into your hair. "I love you." He whispers, his voice soft and tender and almost unrecognizable.

Snuggling into his side, your hand still lazily strokes his head. "I love you too," you reply, voice equally tender, and a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your soft touch and tender words soothe Zoro, your shared connection cemented in the aftermath of passion. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, a smile still lingering on his lips. The words you whispered echo in his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest – and together, in each other's arms, you find peace.

[shepscapades]

looking through your docsuma tag.....love them. wish they had one more combined braincell so they could realize their feelings

HERE'S THE THING THOUGH OKAY the problem is actually that they're both too smart about their feelings. you've got me down a horrible rabbit hole okay let me do my best to explain without being a freak(reading this back over, i failed <3).

Xisuma takes longer to realize, first of all. He's got so much to deal with coming out of s8 and through the beginning of s9 that quite frankly he's really just grateful to have another friend he can count on and trust, and he's so consumed by getting the androids back in working order on top of his actual season 9 plans (on top of Cleo shoving self care down his throat and demanding that he make a better habit of taking breaks and taking care of himself, which takes a LONG time to adjust to, if it can be argued that he ever does) that he doesn't really realize he's developed feelings for Doc until his heart beats him over the head with it randomly one day. Probably sometime in S10. Even then, because of said busy-ness, I think Xisuma has a very hard time getting over the meta-ness of a creator developing feelings for his creation and the selfishness of that reality amidst all of his other responsibilities, and he is likely too scared/overwhelmed to entertain the thought of the feelings themselves, much less the likelihood of reciprocation or the fantasy of a relationship.

Doc, on the other hand, realizes he is developing feelings for Xisuma kind of steadily throughout the course of s9, since that's when they start spending so much more time together in the lab working on androids and improving android tech. As a general statement, Doc is very aware of himself, all of the time. His awareness of the self is very important to his sense of normalcy and control, so any time he experiences a new emotion, he notes it, logs it.

So, while he's very aware of the feelings he's developing as they happen, he doesn't quite put a name to it/realize what it actually is until he talks to Tango and Etho, funnily enough--It's definitely one of those moments where Tango or Etho or whomever are explaining their struggles with the physical manifestations of their... idk, lovesickness-- ie, thirium pump rate irregularities, temperature fluctuations, influxes of feelings they've described as a combination of longing, affection, want, happiness, yearning... and Doc, as the unbiased third party to put 2 and 2 together, explains to them that those are obvious signs of romantic attraction, only very belatedly realizing several hours later that those are the exact symptoms he hasn't quite been able to put a name to. Naturally he's exceptional about being quiet about this realization until he slips up during a maintenance check-in with Tango sometime after, who is not doing well in s9, and Tango (mid romance-ranting) catches the passing of a wistful expression on Doc's face and calls him out for "totally thinking about someone right now" (Teasing aside, tango promises to keep Doc's secret).

So, despite knowing well his feelings before X ever develops his own, Doc is actually very, very careful about them-- He knows more than anyone else how busy Xisuma is. He knows how stressed X is. He also knows Xisuma seems to be more knowledgeable when it comes to emotions and feelings, and despite the clear signs that Xisuma shows interest(?) in him as well, Doc can only assume there is a good reason nothing romantic has happened between them-- he trusts Xisuma more than anything, and he--firmly-- will not breach this trust by acting on something Xisuma does not seem to be ready for (or does not seem to want yet(yet?)). Therefore, Doc is patient, and even though as Season 10 develops and Doc becomes aware of the likelihood that Xisuma could return the feelings, he trusts Xisuma's emotional intuition more than anything. He, painfully, recognizes Xisuma's discomfort (or hesitation), concludes that there must be a missing variable in this equation he cannot grasp, and decides to let Xisuma lead because of it. He will not push farther than he feels Xisuma has.

It's definitely one of those "fell first" "fell harder" type situations I think. I'm normal about them. can you tell

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 10

[chap nine] | [all chapters here] | [chap eleven]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I can't believe this fic is already at 10 chapters! I know these two idiots are taking their time to get together, but trust that things are getting more and more interesting! I hope everyone enjoys reading this just as much as I love writing it, and as always, the tag list is still open for new readers!

wc: 6.7k

Chapter Ten

As the fog of sleep began to lift from your head, you couldn’t help but moan smally,  rolling over and trying to resist consciousness. You realized you were beginning to feel particularly warm, which is most likely what prompted your body to awake so easily - you could sleep like a damn log, yet once you got hot enough, it was practically impossible to stay asleep. So, you tried to shove your blankets aside, kicking them away from your legs to avoid breaking out into a sweat. As you did so, you made contact with something solid, hearing a tired grunt just a split second later that caused you to pull a sleepy face of confusion.

That’s when you remembered that this bed didn’t feel like yours, that these pillows didn’t smell like yours, and the night before came back to you.

You were at Eddie’s. You opened your heavy eyes, realizing immediately that you were practically curled into Eddie’s back, which would explain why you felt so hot just a minute ago - evidently, you both ran a little hot in your sleep. With this small distance, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, feel the tickle of his curls against your forehead, you could see his torso rise and fall with shallow breath. Sleepily, you shuffled away, yawning as you began to slowly look around his room, squinting at the bits of sunlight peeking through the sheets hanging over the windows.

Now that it was light out, this was exactly the kind of room you’d expect a teenage boy to have - the floor was littered with clothes and junk, the walls were covered with posters, and music equipment was in every direction you looked. You tiredly blinked your eyes a few times, attempting to find a clock as a yawn dared to escape your mouth; you finally spotted one after propping yourself up and looking over Eddie’s shoulder at the bedside table.

The two of you had been sleeping through first period; despite all your efforts to not care about shit like that anymore, you nonetheless felt a little jolt of panic because you were missing school again. Force of habit, you figured.

As you rubbed sleep from your eyes, you glanced down at Eddie, whose face was nearly obscured by his messy mane of hair - you found yourself briefly thinking that he’d probably benefit from pulling it back while he sleeps. Not that you were concerned with the cleanliness of his hair and skin - no, you just knew from experience that it would probably be helpful for him to keep hair off his face at night.

You slumped back against the pillow, closing your eyes as you debated whether or not you wanted to wake up or try falling asleep again. You already knew you’d be in deep shit with your parents, considering that you ran off last night without telling anyone where you were going, so what was the harm in resting a while longer? There couldn’t be anything wrong with missing second period, too, right?

Beside you, Eddie stirred a little, causing you to peek at him through your lashes. He settled back in easily enough, but that’s when you finally realized just how odd this whole situation was, how sharing a bed with him felt very nearly inappropriate. Evidently, you had no qualms with it last night, accepting his invitation with absolutely no debate, but it felt different now that you were waking up to a new day. Ideas one had in the late evening never seemed ridiculous or ill-advised until confronting them the following day. Despite yourself, you could feel your neck growing hot, and you rolled onto your side to face away from Eddie as if that would correct the situation. At the very least, it would help you think if you stopped watching him sleep.

Should you leave now that you’re awake? Or should you pretend to be asleep until Eddie also woke up? You couldn’t just linger around impatiently waiting for him, that would look ridiculous.

These are things you didn’t have to worry about before - sleepovers with girls were different, especially when you’d known those girls since you were five years old. And staying the night with Duncan or any other ex-boyfriend had little to no rules. But this? A sleepover with your fake boyfriend who you may or may not be friends with? This sort of thing didn’t have a rulebook for you to follow, so any option may well be the wrong one.

Deciding that you shouldn’t linger around as if you were some needy one night stand, you climbed out of the bed as carefully as possible, unsure just how light a sleeper Eddie was. The floor creaked under your feet despite your light steps, causing you to flinch and shoot a glance at Eddie; but he seemed undisturbed by it.

You stole a glance down at the t-shirt you’d borrowed from Eddie, tugging at the hem as if suddenly you were self-conscious - considering that you had no qualms with showing Eddie skin the night before, it felt nearly ridiculous to start worrying about it now. You rolled your eyes at how stupid you were being as you began to search for your discarded clothes amidst the piles of Eddie’s belongings.

Once you had your clothes in hand, you looked between Eddie and the bedroom door - you realized that his uncle had to still be sleeping, too, which caused you to nearly hiss at your luck. Now you had two people to worry about waking if you weren’t careful. You could sneak your way into the bathroom without waking them, but what if you stepped out of the bedroom and Eddie’s uncle happened to be awake? You didn’t need to be flashing skin to both Munsons.

So, sighing through your nose, you dropped your clothes atop Eddie’s cluttered desk and shook off your concerns - he probably wasn’t going to see anything, and if he did, who cared? You clearly didn’t last night.

Once you’d pulled off Eddie’s t-shirt, you paused as if intending to fold it, but laughed at yourself a second later - if his messy room was any evidence, he wasn’t all that concerned about the state of his clothes. You quickly started to pull your own clothes back on, briefly wishing you’d brought your gym bag inside since your outfit from yesterday was there. That was obviously more attractive than sweaty workout clothes, so you’d have to change into them later, once you were out of here.

As you tugged your shorts over the curve of your ass, you heard Eddie hiss out a small, surprised “shit,” causing you to startle and spin around to face him. Your skin felt hot as you met his tired expression with a surprised look of your own, realizing too late that you had yet to put your shirt on, although he didn’t appear to care or even notice given how heavy his eyes were. Despite suddenly feeling self-conscious, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, spinning back around to quickly grab your shirt; your skin still felt hot and your heart a little fast, but laughing made the awkward situation a little easier to bear.

“Fuck, you scared me.” Eddie grumbled in a gravelly voice as you quickly pulled your shirt over your head, turning to face him again. He lied back with his eyes closed, throwing an arm across his forehead as if he needed to compose himself - was his heart drumming as fast as yours? And was it because you actually startled him, or was it because he saw more than he needed to?

You took a deep breath to collect yourself, eyes darting across Eddie’s face and arms while you pushed your embarrassment down. God, you felt stupid being this nervous. So, you coolly rolled back your shoulders and straightened up, knowing that by faking confidence you’d inevitably feel confident in the next couple minutes.

“You tell every girl you sleep with that she scares you?” You teased foolishly, feeling your own nerves spike for a split second. Eddie’s mouth twisted in embarrassment, his cheeks growing red and a flustered sound leaving his lips as he removed his arm from over his eyes.

Now that your heart was slowing back to a reasonable pace, you realized that you must look gross right now - your hair had to be dirty, you could practically taste your morning breath, and you were certain your skin was shiny with oil. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened in momentary panic, whipping around to face yourself in the mirror above the desk, thankful for the closed curtains in the room, as the darkness surely hid the worst of it. You leaned in close to your reflection, fussing with your hair so it didn’t look quite so awful, baring your teeth to see just how gross they probably were, rubbing your fingers across the bridge of your oily nose. God, being a teenager sucked sometimes.

In the reflection of the mirror, you paused your self assessment and flicked your gaze to watch Eddie for a few moments. He tiredly dragged his hands down his face then through his tangled hair, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyes, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet. His cheeks were still pink from your little joke, although a very slight grin tugged at his lips, so perhaps he was coming around to it. You realized his chest was bare, although you couldn’t see anything below the neck thanks to the bedsheets; nonetheless, your eyes thoughtlessly trailed from his face to his collarbone to the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket.

When Eddie turned to look at you again, you quickly diverted your attention, hoping he didn’t realize you’d been studying him. It’s not as if you were doing anything wrong, but somehow it nonetheless felt like you shouldn’t have been watching him quite so closely, as if you were nearly caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“What, worried what I’ll think of your bed head?” Eddie’s tone was teasing yet still tired. You allowed yourself to glance at him in the reflection with slightly narrowed eyes, to which he smirked lazily. A large yawn escaped him, and he attempted to speak through it; you had to fight your smile at how silly he sounded, “You can shower, if you want.”

“I am not showering while your uncle’s here, that’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” Eddie questioned while closing his eyes again. You shrugged despite knowing he couldn’t see it, trying to think of an explanation.

“It’s just… weird. I don’t know.” 

Eddie leaned back onto his arms, listless eyes looking you up and down for a few moments. Yet again, you felt self-conscious under his stare, so you glared back as if to challenge him. Rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, he flopped back down on the mattress with a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

You both went quiet for a minute, as if the awkwardness was setting in all over again. You didn’t know each other nearly well enough to be around one another in the morning like this, you both knew that now. It felt far too intimate to be a part of someone else’s morning routine, and a small part of you was regretting the decision to stay here with Eddie last night - you wished you’d considered that before climbing into his bed as if it were your own.

This was a strange scenario for you to maneuver, but you couldn’t let Eddie know how weird it felt, couldn’t let on the nerves that kept jolting with each minute you were here. So, you put on your best game face and swallowed your discomfort, going back to fussing with your hair as if nothing in the world could break through your icy exterior.

“I should get going, Munson.” You said in your best cool, careless tone, “My parents are gonna kill me when I get home.”

Eddie huffed a slight laugh, brought down an octave or two thanks to his scratchy morning voice, “Well, at least we accomplished that, right?”

You gave him a puzzled look in the mirror before turning around to face him, leaning back against the edge of the desk. Eddie took in your expression for a moment before realizing that you were confused by what he said. Again, he yawned.

“Wasn’t that part of the plan - piss off your parents? I’d say we did an even better job killing your reputation than we expected to; I deserve a metal or something.”

“Oh,” you answered in a small voice. Eddie was right - you did already accomplish everything you’d set out to do when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Your reputation was in the mud, you obviously got under Duncan’s skin, and after last night you knew for a fact that your parents would be downright pissed. What else was there to do?

Despite yourself, you were… disappointed? No, you couldn’t be. Maybe the realization of it all was just jarring, maybe you needed time to comprehend that you were now officially an outcast. Or maybe what you felt was fear at the prospect that moving forward you were no longer the terrifying ice princess. Yeah, that must’ve been it.

You could feel Eddie’s stare as he inevitably tried to decipher the look on your face. You tried to relax the furrow of your brow as you continued to consider what was next for you as a newly appointed social pariah.

“So, I guess we’re… done?” Eddie questioned as if confused by the idea, as if he needed to hear the words leave your mouth, tilting his head while meeting your eyes. He was right, but that seemed strange to wrap your mind around.

“Technically.” You shrugged, looking down at your feet in thought. But after a quick moment, an idea crossed your mind and a faint smile spread across your lips; you looked back up at Eddie as if you were relieved, “Though… it’d be pretty lame to call it quits now - they’d all think we got scared because of the homecoming shit.”

Eddie’s brow went up curiously, surprised by your line of thought; you could see the cogs turning in his own head as he considered it, “You think so?”

“I know these people, Munson.” You crossed your arms and jutted your hip, suddenly finding amusement (and perhaps relief) in the knowledge that this scheme wasn’t over quite yet, “They’re gonna keep poking and prodding at me until they get what they want or they get bored - it’s the same shit I used to do. We can’t give them the satisfaction of thinking they broke us up after what they did; if anything, I think that should make us stronger.”

Eddie finally sat up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he met you with an eager, conspiratory smile; you tried to focus, ignoring the curious desire to study his newly exposed tattoos, “So, keep up the charade, make them hate how much of a happy couple we are?”

You nodded as your smile grew larger, “At least until all this shit blows over. Give them another month or two; they’ll get bored of us and set their sights on the next sorry loser that catches their attention.”

For a long beat, Eddie studied you keenly, his expression relaxing as he considered this new course of action. Again, you felt vaguely self-conscious at how closely he seemed to be looking at you, but you refrained from showing it. Eventually, Eddie shrugged.

“Well, no time like the present.” He swung his legs off the mattress and stretched his arms above his head, twisting his back to work out any kinks. You briefly glanced down at his bare legs, your eyes trailing up; but you quickly brought your attention back to his face, wondering why you were so damn interested in looking at Eddie all of a sudden, “You sure you don’t want to shower?”

You pressed your lips together at the question, “Somehow that feels like an insult.”

He teasingly rolled his eyes with a sleepy grin, “Despite your best efforts, I’m learning you, princess. You’re not the type to go to school without looking put together like a doll.”

Damn, he had you pegged. You sighed in defeat, causing his grin to grow into one of self satisfaction.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

Eddie sighed, but the amusement on his face was still clear as day, “One of these days I’ll get you to admit I’m right about something, you know.”

You gave him a taunting smile while heading towards the door, yet again challenging him, “Well, today isn’t that day, Munson.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

By the time you and Eddie had gotten yourselves cleaned up and made it to Hawkins High, third period was nearly over, so instead of wasting your time by heading in, the two of you shared a cigarette in the van, waiting around for the bell to ring. Even then, you took your time walking into the school building and through the halls.

Now that you were amongst your peers again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit tense - after all, prior to today you’d spent the week feeling like shit, feeling the pressure of everyone’s judgment weighing down on you. The icy armor you wore so well was back on as you and Eddie made your way down the hall, feeling far more confident with a cold look on your face and a small glare in your eyes. No one’s criticism could touch you so long as you appeared stony and unapproachable.

In contrast to your frosty demeanor, Eddie fell naturally back into the playful, cheeky boyfriend role he had established for himself - his arm was lax over your shoulder, his smile was charming as ever, and his words were more forward and suggestive. It was funny to observe following the past sixteen or so hours you’d spent together - alone, Eddie always seemed to pull back a little, to give you space as he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of you. Alone, you ironically became the more forward and brash one. But so long as there may be an audience watching, Eddie was willing to perform, putting up his own mask of total confidence in this false relationship between you two.

Just like a dutiful and caring boyfriend would, Eddie walked you to fourth period, very intentionally pulling you into a hug and shooting a wink at Duncan after catching him watching the two of you. The hug was a total shock, since neither of you had done that before, and you hoped that your shoulders didn’t seem stiff or your arms didn’t seem awkward as they snaked around Eddie’s middle. You felt him laugh against your ear before pulling away, knowing that you were inevitably trying not to act affronted by the new display of affection.

Once fourth period was over, Eddie quickly met you en route to the cafeteria, almost as if he had run just to meet you outside the classroom door; it seemed like maybe he was trying to make up for the past two days of avoiding and ignoring you.

Thanks to Eddie’s effortless presence, you were far less aware of whether or not people were looking at you, whether or not they were whispering about you. Any anxieties you had about your place at the bottom wouldn’t bother you so long as you had him as a distraction from all the bullshit going on around you.

When you two entered the cafeteria, you were certainly aware of the eyes that followed you, of the way your former friends were surely whispering about you. But with your confidence restored, you didn’t even spare them a thought or a glance, guiding Eddie past fellow students with the gentle tug of your hand.

As you two entered the lunch line, you pulled your hand from Eddie’s so you could pick up a tray, which he promptly took from you. You shot him a look, but before you could say anything, he smirked playfully.

“I’ve got it, just stack it up with enough food for both of us.” You rolled your eyes, but acquiesced to the instruction, leading Eddie down the row of unappetizing food, “You’re gonna sit with us today.”

You pulled a bit of a face at him while picking up two bowls of shitty school spaghetti. As you set them on the tray, you hummed as if it were an answer, turning away from Eddie quickly as you continued to eye the limited food options.

Unsatisfied by your lack of response, Eddie continued, his tone perhaps mildly peeved that you made so little effort to engage with his friends, “You know at this point it would look ridiculous if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him while biting the inside of your cheek, picking up more food for you both, “Something tells me your friends wouldn’t want me around, Munson.”

Eddie sighed, seeing that you were prepared to argue rather than admit he was right. He leaned in over your shoulder as if to make a point, keeping his voice a little low, “Considering that you want to keep up this hoax, all of you are gonna have to learn to tolerate each other.”

You turned your head to meet his eyes, the position reminding you of how closely you’d stood together back at the arcade - foreheads practically touching, Eddie hovering in your space in a way no one ever did. You gave him a mocking pout, catching the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes that he tried desperately to fight, “Oh, so it’s only me that wants to keep up this hoax?”

His brows rose with easy insistence, knowing you had little room to argue. Behind you two, someone coughed impatiently, reminding you to keep moving and not hold up the lunch line. You sighed and continued forward, grabbing a couple boxed milks that you discarded on the tray before leading Eddie out towards the lunch tables.

“Fine.” Your tone is stubborn even as you agree, “I’ll sit with you - if they’ll let me.”

As he came up alongside you, Eddie rolled his eyes while gently nudging you with his shoulder - you were never going to make even the most simple tasks easy. You could already see Eddie’s customary lunch table occupied by Gareth and the freshmen you’d met earlier in the week; you briefly wondered at how they could’ve possibly met, but didn’t entertain the idea further. Coming from the opposite direction was Jeff, who showed mild surprise on his face when he saw you and Eddie together again; you caught yourself wondering what the group thought of the past few days, wondering what Eddie did or didn’t say to them about it.

But before you could reach the lunch table, however, you caught Amelia in your line of sight, her long strides purposeful as she came in your direction. You did nothing to mask the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, immediately annoyed at the prospect of talking to her; god, you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit she was about to lay at your feet. The smug little look on her face was one you knew quite well, the kind of expression she wore when she was about to be antagonistic just for the hell of it, so you mentally prepared for whatever bullshit was coming for you.

As she blocked your path to the lunch table, Amelia crossed her arms with a self-satisfied expression on her face; you tried to appear as disinterested in her as possible, staring past her shoulder at the nerds watching you before sharing a glance with Eddie. A mean smirk spread across Amelia’s lips as she looked you up and down with blatant criticism. Even without looking, you were certain that the rest of her friends were watching, waiting for whatever silly insults Amelia had planned for you. You could also feel the eyes of Eddie’s friends watching, too, along with anyone else who cared enough about trivial high school drama.

“Hm, yesterday’s outfit? That’s interesting.” Amelia started, looking between you and Eddie with a suggestive purse of her lips.

You responded with a bitchy smile of your own, “Paying enough attention to me to know what I’m wearing? That’s interesting.”

You don’t even give yourself time to enjoy Amelia’s galled look, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve and attempting to breeze past her as if she wasn’t even there. But you knew Amelia well and could feel her following just a step behind you, so once you’d reached your table you spun back around to face her. She stumbled back just a step as you caught her off guard, so you started talking before she could have the chance.

“Why are you so concerned with me? You can’t possibly still be jealous - after all, you got my sloppy seconds, doesn’t that make you the top of the food chain now?” You crossed your arms with a lax expression, knowing your casualness would get to her; Amelia always hated when you’d put on this emotionless front in the middle of a fight between you two. As she scowled, you simply raised your brow expectantly, which seemed to irritate her even more.

“Jealous of what, your trashy new boyfriend? Give me a break.”

You took a small step towards Amelia that wouldn’t normally have appeared threatening, calm as ever while you gave her a taunting grin. You briefly looked past her at your former lunch table, everyone there watching attentively. As you caught Duncan’s smug face, your eyes darkened a little, your need for retaliation these past few days coming back up. But you didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool again, so you took a composed breath while considering your plan of attack. Your gaze was calculated as you let your eyes travel over the nearby lunch tables, seeing the audience that had formed for the show that you and Amelia were putting on. Maybe you’d give them just a little something to talk about.

You bit your lip before grinning, giving Amelia a faux sorry expression as you spoke, “Well, considering that you settled for a pathetic two-pump chump and I’m getting such mind blowing dick that I’m missing school for it… I’d say you probably have a lot to be jealous of.”

The sound of surprise that left the people around you was like music to your ears; Eddie choking in shock behind you was so amusing that in other circumstances you would have laughed. But you were far more focused on Amelia than anyone else, taking glee in her affronted look and the disgusted scoff that left her throat. You gave her another condescending smile before turning back around, meeting Eddie’s surprised eyes as you settled into the seat at the head of the table. He was momentarily fixed where he stood, so you gave his arm a small, insistent tug; pulling himself together quickly, Eddie set down the tray and dragged a chair up alongside you.

You could feel the burn of Amelia’s eyes as she stared you down, undoubtedly trying to come up with some scathing remark. But you happily ignored her, playfully meeting Eddie’s eyes as he put on his own show of disinterest in your former friend. That’s one thing you could appreciate about Eddie - you were both good at quickly putting up your fronts and pretending. The rest of the table, however, seemed frozen with fear - you’d have to tell these boys to grow a pair.

“You’re disgusting.” Amelia spat with a shake of her head. Her tone was sickly sweet, “I can’t imagine that’ll get you many votes for homecoming queen.”

Despite your annoyance, you met her eyes again with a condescendingly kind look of your own, “We have better things to do than go to homecoming. So, when I win, the crown is yours - my gift to you.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over one shoulder with a snobby expression, “As if.”

“Well, remember to think about me while you’re slow dancing to Kenny fucking Loggins.” You mocked her with your best dazzling smile, pulling your attention away from her as if she’d been dismissed from your court.

As Eddie and the rest of the boys looked between you two, awaiting the next blow, you grabbed a milk carton from your tray, completely ignoring Amelia’s presence now. You were certain she made some frustrated face at you, but you wouldn’t dare give her the satisfaction of meeting her eyes again. You were done with this confrontation, and you just knew she loathed that you got the final word. With a huff, she eventually marched away, prompting you to look around the table with a self-satisfied smirk.

Jeff and Grant had both stood back during your confrontation with Amelia, waiting for it to end before they dared approach the table. As the lunch room returned to normal order, the boys awkwardly joined the rest of you. For a few long moments, none of them dared to speak as you opened your milk carton and took a long sip - was it fear or discomfort that held their tongues?

“You gotta warn a guy before you say shit like that.” Eddie broke the silence with a slightly droll tone, drawing your attention as your brow furrowed. Despite his cheeks being a little flushed, he otherwise looked like the cool leader his friends had come to expect.

“Say what?” You asked while setting one of the plates of spaghetti in front of you. Your gaze briefly traveled around the table - all of the nerds had varying degrees of amusement and trepidation on their faces as they looked back, none of them quite sure what to make of you yet. A short laugh escaped Eddie as he leaned back in his chair.

“I believe your exact words were ‘mind blowing dick.’” Although he wore a cocky smile for his friends, Eddie’s eyes suggested that the statement had flustered him a little. Around you, you boys snorted and held back laughs, which drew Eddie’s attention; he suppressed his own humored expression, “Oh, so now you guys think she’s funny?”

The freshmen looked a little unsure, clearly still unfamiliar with Eddie’s nuances; meanwhile, the older boys had come to know his antics well enough. Jeff quickly countered, although he couldn’t seem to look at you as he spoke, “Personally, I’d be flattered by the compliment.”

Grant nudged him as they laughed together. You couldn’t help your own grin as you looked back towards Eddie - maybe winning his friends over wouldn’t be as hard as you thought. And maybe they also wouldn’t be as insufferable as you’d predicted.

“See? It was a compliment.” Your ears felt a little hot as you recalled the conviction in your voice as you addressed Amelia - talking about Eddie that way felt wrong now that you considered it, but in the moment your one focus was getting under the other girl’s skin.

Eddie fondly shook his head at you, speaking with a confidence intended to mask his embarrassment from his friends, maintaining his usual unphased attitude, “Well, half the school heard you’re getting mind blowing dick, so I hope you’re happy.”

The boys snickered again as you coyly looked down at the table - the more Eddie kept talking about it, the more your own embarrassment set in. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

“So, what are we doing on homecoming?” The freshman wearing a hat asked, causing the whole table to look at him questioningly. He elaborated as if the question was obvious, “She said we have better things to do - what are we doing?”

As you rolled your eyes, one of the other boys nudged him in the side, “We’re not doing anything, stupid, she was just saying that.”

“Jesus, keep your bony elbows away from me, Lucas.” The kid rubbed his ribs as if for emphasis. On his other side, the Wheeler boy made a face at his friends’ shenanigans, “Why would she just say that? We could do something, right?”

“Let it go, Dustin.” Wheeler said as if already exhausted by him.

You watched the freshmen as they began to bicker amongst themselves, your expression one of confused intrigue. They were like a bad car crash - you simply couldn’t look away. They talked over each other, their voices melding together while debating the validity of Dustin’s questions, the scene nearly to the point of being comical. As you continued to gape, you looked around the table at the older boys, who were already locked in a separate conversation, before your gaze settled on Eddie. You raised your brows as he met your eyes.

“So, what, are they the fucking three stooges?” Eddie snorted gleefully at the question.

“You get used to it.” He responded while poking at his food. You returned your attention to the boys as they continued; Eddie just let them go on like this? Although somehow amusing, it had also become exasperating.

So, with an irritated sigh, you planted your hands on the table as you spoke over them firmly, “Will you three shut up? Fucking freshmen…”

The last bit was muttered, but the table still heard it nonetheless. Everyone looked at you in various states of surprise. The one freshman - Dustin - however, looked the least taken aback by you, as if unaware of just how maddening his high energy was.

“Are we doing something for homecoming or not?” He questioned while meeting your eyes seriously; you raised your brow at his insistent need for an answer.

“You can do whatever you want, I don’t care.” You responded perfunctory before focusing on your food again, thinking that would be the end of it.

“I mean, we could do something.” Eddie chimed in, so you shot him a warning look as if to tell him not to get the freshmen’s hopes up. He willfully ignored it while continuing, “I know a guy who has kickbacks practically every weekend - might be fun to crash.”

You looked between Eddie’s eyes with a furrowed brow, to which he gave you an expectant look back. Who would Eddie know that wasn’t at this table right now, you wondered. Couldn’t be a high school kid, obviously, and given Eddie’s extracurriculars, there were only a handful of ways he could know someone else.

As if he was aware of your own curiosity, Gareth chimed in, “Who - Rick?”

“Who else?” Eddie gave his friend a cheeky grin.

“Man, Rick’s kinda weird even for us.” Gareth shook his head a little, although you could see he was nonetheless considering the idea; you figured none of these guys went to parties often, if ever, so even a shitty prospect was better than nothing.

“He’s not that bad.” Grant added eagerly, his grin suggestive as he added, “Maybe we’ll meet some college girls.”

You couldn’t help but sneer as the boys began talking amongst themselves at the possibility of a party with this Rick guy. You looked back at Eddie, who watched the group fondly before turning his attention to you, a pleased expression on his face as his grin spread a little wider.

“I’m not chaperoning a bunch of fourteen year olds at some stranger’s party.” You pointed towards the freshmen who began to protest spiritedly, so you leveled them with a harsh look, “You’re all still babies, you have no business going to parties yet.”

“Oh, come on,” Dustin, fearless as ever, tried to argue, “Didn’t you go to parties your freshman year?”

“Yeah, high school parties. Try finding one of those first.” You and Eddie met eyes, “This Rick guy isn’t some freak, is he?”

“Princess, everyone at this table’s a freak.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. If we go to this guy’s party, will I regret it?”

Eddie shook his head almost too quickly for your liking, but his voice sounded sincere, “You’ll be fine. If you get worried, just stick with me.”

You studied Eddie’s warm eyes in search of a lie, and he stared back earnestly as if to prove his point. So, you mulled over the idea for a short while, trying to consider its pros and cons - you hadn’t been to a party in a couple months, and even now with your disinterest in high school shit, you still loved a good party. On the other hand, even Gareth thinks Rick is a little weird - that could possibly spell trouble. But, Eddie seemed relatively mindful about this sort of thing, so if he said you’d be fine, you were inclined to believe him.

So, you accepted the idea, giving Eddie a quick nod as the corner of your mouth pulled up, “I do love parties.”

The table celebrated your agreement, as if all of this was riding on you. Again, they could do whatever they wanted without you around, you didn’t care - but maybe they were seeking your approval because they knew Eddie wanted it, too. You quickly turned your gaze back on the freshmen, who were a little too eager.

“No, you are not invited.” They moaned and groaned about it, and briefly you felt like some kind of babysitter, “I’m looking out for you guys, you’ll thank me later.”

Dustin muttered a “yeah right” as Lucas and Wheeler scoffed in disappointment. It was nearly comical, but you refrained from smiling at them - it may have sounded silly, but in your way you were looking out for them, knowing that they were still just inexperienced kids. They couldn’t just jump into a party like this, they needed to at least attend a high school dance or get invited to a pool party first.

When you looked back at Eddie, he had something of a sweet smile on his face, which caused a mild skip in your heart - you almost didn’t like the look, it felt far too personal. Maybe he knew, too, that you were just looking out for the younger boys despite your cold exterior, maybe he wondered what things you’d seen or experienced at parties to make you so mindful of bringing a bunch of kids along with you. To distract yourself, you tore your gaze from him and looked at Gareth, who seemed a little nervous once he realized you were staring at him.

“Tell me honestly, how weird is this guy?” Gareth glanced between you and Eddie, unsure how to answer. You insistently pointed at him with your plastic fork, a sad piece of spaghetti falling from it back into the bowl, “Come on, don’t make me regret agreeing to this idea.”

Eddie started, “He’s fine--”

Gareth shrugged, “Dude’s just… used too much of his own supply.”

Ah, so he was a drug dealer. Considering that that’s how Eddie made his money, you couldn’t be too critical of that, it would make you a damn hypocrite. But that didn’t ease your hesitation any, since you knew nothing else about Rick, so you made a face at Gareth that insisted he continued.

“I don’t know, he’s not all there half the time. But I don’t think he means any harm.” Gareth, again, met Eddie’s eyes as if seeking approval.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Eddie said in an easy tone, nudging your toe with his while grinning at you. You narrowed your eyes a little, but accepted the information Gareth gave you, wanting to believe him. Eddie slouched in his seat beside you, resting his arm over the back of your chair, “It’ll be fun, princess, I promise.”

You sighed a little, nudging Eddie’s foot back as you continued poking at your food, “And way better than a stupid homecoming dance, right?”

Eddie smiled back with a nod, “Way better.”

You hummed in response, unconsciously relaxing back against Eddie’s arm, looking towards the freshmen again as they tried to argue their case with the rest of the table.

.

.

additional a/n: idk if anyone else noticed, but one of Eddie's friends isn't actually credited with a name, so I've been using the actor's name to supplement :)

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter

@daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh

@eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames

@graciehams @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00

@maskofmirrors @mewchiili @miaajaade @mmmunson @moonisu

@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola

@sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[potteraep]

Hey 👋 how are you. I have a question: Do you take requests??

If yes:

Can you do a fic with Soft! Golden retriever Slytherin! Reader x an Overprotective! Black cat! Regulus. Where he probably thinks, where did they come from ?? (im a girl but i want other people with different genders to read this) and reader is like" if you don't accept my friendship bracelet, I'm gonna curse your family for seven generations." kinda person. And Regulus is like oh they feisty, i like that. And that's.. the idea.

If not: have a great day 😁😊

REDAMENCY ౨ৎ R.B

౨ৎ: regulus black x slytherian gn!reader

౨ৎ: hi! Sorry this took like a while.. to be released but I hope you enjoy it

౨ৎ: @reggieswriter I thought I’d tag you because you also requested something similar! I hope you like it :)

౨ৎ- regulus black found himself immersed by you, perhaps for some reasons even he didn’t have the heart to answer tho to say you weren’t in his head would be a stupid lie.

he wouldn’t say it was a crush, god no or atleast he wouldn’t admit it. His excuse was that you being a slytherian, he didn’t understand your attentive and caring attitude for those around you

in his defense his experience with his other house mates was that it was better to ignore them even if they were infact similar in many manners.

to say you shocked him was a slight understatement, well it didn’t exactly blow his mind but his gaze lingered for few longer seconds then he would for Anyone else

his eyes looking around as other slytherains rolled there eyes at you, and hufflepuffs wondered why you weren’t sorted with them

everytime you talked to him he was kind but quite not sure of how open to be but he made a note to try and be open as well when you asked how he was and ran off to go talk to anyone else about it

The “ friendship” obviously didn’t start like this tho at first you tried speaking to him as he looked at you and back at his work before you huffed and walked off

the next day he was a bit shocked and annoyed to see you keep trying to talk to him as he ignored you again

tho he was a bit interested and found your personality.. attractive?

this went on for a week.

Until he finally decided that he’d speak back to you when you tried, of course you spoke to him again but you were the shocked one when he replied with a full sentence

he found himself a bit happy seeing you so excited over a reply but brushed it off and continued his work as you waved walking away to your seat

After a week or so you became “friends” waving at each other in the halls, tho his wave was a lazy excuse of one but still a welcoming one.

he would walk into class and smile softly at you and every time you stopped him in the hall to talk your opposite demeanor seemed to bounce off each other, his blank but attentive gaze colliding with your excited attitude

as the months went on you grew closer your short hellos going to full fledged conversation and he felt a little thankful to know you, as in his words you were a breathe of fresh air

His friends often teased him a bit at the fact he’d roll his eyes and make a snarky remark when his house mates talked bad of you telling them they were stupid and couldn’t hope in a million years there brains could function enough to understand your honorable personality

he denied all the fingers his friends pointed at him saying it was only because you were very nice and a good person and it’s quite insensitive to take your kindness for weakness and that was it.

tho he of course wouldn’t admit to his friends or even himself that his heart skipped seeing you in the halls or when your hand would rest on his shoulder when you pasted him at his desk.

tho maybe soon his feelings could be put out, or at least deep down he hoped he wouldn’t have to feel such a feelings in the pit of his stomach in secret much longer.

@- likes and reblogs appreciated! As well as any other feedback :>

[thefreakandthehair]

a steddie fanfiction written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang by @thefreakandthehair with illustration by @janie-bean and beta-read by @steddieasitgoes

“Do it!” Eddie sits up straight for the first time in hours, planting one palm solid on the ground and the other on the arm of the chair. It all happens so fast, Steve’s shocked that he doesn’t find strands of hair ripped out between his fingers. 

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!” Robin agrees, sitting up a little too quickly if her rapid blinking and steadying hand on the arm of the couch are anything to note. “Munson, you think those cookies are good? You should try the gingerbread cookies at Christmas. He’s been holding out on everyone.” 

Eddie gasps and stares at Steve in faux betrayal, falling onto his back with one hand over his heart. “Is it not torture enough that I was half-eaten by bats? Did I not deserve a special treat for all of my sacrifices, Steve?” 

Always so dramatic, he thinks again, just as he had in the kitchen. 

Steve grins and shakes his head with pinched eyebrows and a scrunched nose. “You needed a lot more than a gingerbread cookie, Ed. And besides, I didn’t really break out the cookbook until after the shitstorm passed.” 

“There’s a whole cookbook?!” Eddie asks, looking over to Robin for support. “He has a whole cookbook?”

Robin nods. “Yep, he’s baked his way through at least half of it now and only like, two have been duds. There’s more than enough to stock a bakery.”

He can barely keep up with the two of them, going back and forth about his sad attempt at macarons a few months back and how Robin would maybe commit felonies for the apple turnovers that came immediately after. At some point, Eddie picks up the plate that held the cookies and licks the crumbs off and Steve just watches— watches with a warmth spreading from the base of his spine to the tip top of his ears as two of his favorite people in the whole fucking world talk about this improbable dream. 

Dreams aren’t things that Steve’s had much time to consider. When he was eighteen, instead of goals and aspirations, or sports accolades and prom dates, Steve was busy worrying if he’d have a future at all. The dream back then was just to survive, but now that he has… 

“Should I really do it?” He says, more to himself than anyone else. 

Eddie and Robin cut themselves off mid-sentence and turn to respond in tandem. 

“Yes!” 

read the rest of butter, sugar, and northern mockingbirds here on ao3!

tagging some peeps who expressed interest! @test-of-my-patience @acasualcrossfade @arelliann @prettyasadiagram @perseus-notjackson @spectrum-spectre @kkpwnall @cuoredimuschio @kas-eddie-munson

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Inviting other artists!

So I've just made a superhero AU for utmv. Right? Well, I really only wanted to design one guy, Lust. Sooo I'm opening the AU (WHICH LITERALLY HAS NO LORE YET SO NO WORRIES) for others to partake in!

Here's like, the basic lay out.

Choose one Sans AU to turn into superhero/villain. Please refrain from using a Sans someone else claimed.

Make them into a superhero/villain themed after something specific. (Example: A plant themed superhero, or even a cactus one!)

Keep powers balanced with weaknesses, please make them relate to their theme!

Give them a civilian identity! You don't have to draw this one, but make sure to mention their civil job and name!

Give them a Superhero/Villain name as well!

Wait, supervillain?

OH YES! You can choose the mortal alignment of your claimed Sans! Super hero, villain, neutral, vigilante? Just pick whatever you want!

Of course headcanons are welcome, it's Canon to YOUR design! Make them trans, gay, autistic, whatever! (Human designs are allowed too!)

Wait.. what do I (the artist reading this) Even get out of doing this?

Well I'll tell you! For one, its a fun artist challenge where you personalize and create a whole new hero/Villain to your preferences!

You also get to imagine their lore, and incorporate their personality into the story! They'd all be canon part of the AU. (Note: if someone claimed a sans first and you did it anyways, yours wouldn't be Canon unless issues occurred with the OG/they gave you permission.)

I dunno, I just wanna make an AU with a ton of people, ya know? I think it's be fun for us to work together on this.

CLAIMED LIST:

Lust: Hero. Complete. By @thelunarsystemwrites.

Reaper: Vigilante. Completed by @solusminds.

Outer: Vigilante. Complete by @dzasterdumpterfire

Ink: Retired Hero. Complete by @lix88888

Error: Supervillain. Complete by @its-paperd

Dust: Claimed by @billygoat26

Farmer: Claimed by @absurdumsid

Cross: Claimed by @weirdest-worlds

Geno: Claimed by @eldritchcats

Shattered: Claimed by @genderfluidyellowocto

Nightmare: Supervillain. Completed by @analexthatexists

Killer: Claimed by @a-menacetosociety

Dream (and core frisk): Claimed by @thenocturnenarrator

Blue: Superhero, complete by @createbellatheartist

Fell: Supervillain, complete @underrrtaleee-freakk

Quantum: Superhero. Completed by @nashdoesstuff (Also made an OC for the AU, Dreamshade! Superhero.)

Horror: Neutral Evil. Completed by @it-came-from-mount-ebott

Ccino: Claimed by @some-aroace-chaos

Fresh: Claimed by @nightmareishomophobic

Die sans: Claimed by @dustsansm1

Bill: Supervillain. Completed by @endless-emptyness (OC Nanno made by sane person!)

Epic: Claimed by @dtdrawz

Fatal error: Claimed by @spookyboris2

Swan: Claimed by @glitching-moon

Sci: Claimed by @joonebugg

Dance: Claimed by @dv-reblogs

Swad: Claimed by @shinanigans-art

Littletale: Claimed by @somehhuuuhh

Possession: Claimed by @b0nerific-individual

Alter: Claimed by @annabel184

Paperjam: Vigilante. Completed by @papple

Decadent society: Supervillain. Complete by @supper122

Green Sans: Claimed by @xxcross-is-a-helicopterxx

Roulette: Claimed by @ant1quarian

On the claimed list, if you claim a Sans (By commenting or reblogging saying "Dibs Blank!" Or "Can I do blank?" Etc! I'll add it on the List saying: "Sans: Claimed by User"

Once it's made, please tag me so I can see! Then I'll update it to "Sans: Moral alignment. By User." And link it on this post! [Please only claim one, we want enough to go around! However you can claim variations! So one person could make dream, another could make shattered!]

[Note I do not claim any ownership over your designs for the AU, nor will I use your design w/o permission.]

With all that said! Anyone interested? [And hey, if you're not interested? It's okay to just not join. Or ignore this!]

Asks! (Questions regarding the AU!)

Can we make our own lore woth other characters?

Secondary claims?

Only two grabs?

Can we have OCs?

Can we use our own AUs?

[creatively-cosmic]

i wanted to draw something different today soooo. i went n scrounged up a buncha pokepastas that ive read/pokepasta ocs ive seen around recently (mostly via mutuals)! ill tag creators and link sources under the cut, and ramble a little abt my thoughts... ^^

if anyone wants me to untag or remove their stuff from this btw let me know i didnt ask i kinda just. started doodling.

also half of yall i either never followed or only Just did i need 2 remedy that. ive been observing yalls stuff from a distance i keep forgetting to Press the Fucking Button is all

Your Friend Silver (Elias) by @uuberwachen ! this was such an INSANELYYY well written story and it stuck with me for DAYS. it really slots in the space in my mind that holds the classics and the twists and stuff with it genuinely got me. i cant recommend it enough if anyone who sees it hasnt read it yet. i got so excited when i saw a dedicated ask blog went up. i wish i werent scared of sending in questions to those things

Pixel Blue: 3DS VIRTUAL CONSOLE (2016) by @calybunz ! ahhh this was such a cool one to read! id see updates on it incidentally n i can tell a lot of work went into it- it was definitely worth it! its well written with a lot of heart.. maybe im just a sucker for stories that focus on a sympathetic blue.. the ending made me so SAD dude what the fuck. though my favorite parts were probably the dream sequences- godd the imagery of it all was fantastic!

Nuzlight (Mia) at @nuzlight-mia ! this is one i dont know much about yet, but her personality and design really captivated me when i first saw her! she seems like such a sweetheart and i look forward to getting to see more of her :3 i feel so bad for her situation.. the story n concept are all so interesting!

Missing Numbers (Green) at @themissingnumbers ... is our thing but green is hells (@hells1nfern0 ) dude that i have no sway in so. whatever. im unwell about him im excited for more to be revealed abt him :] i cant really say more than that since i know his secrets

FIRE RED FREE DOWNLOAD (Infected/Abandoned RED) by @aibouart ... another one i saw the design of first and was just IMMEDIATELY struck by. i love when stories twist in-universe things that're generally treated as normal and mundane and use its horror potential! a parasect parasite outbreak where the protagonist gets infected by that and ends up full of mushrooms...? thats the kinda shit i love to see >:)

Jack by @sparklingdemon ! cool ass design ive been wanting to draw and a cool concept to go with- the creepyblack protagonist as a grinning-reaper type where the ghost is an extension of him rules. i also loveee when designs utilize the fossil missingno stuff!! kabutops's arms lend themselves REALLY well to being a scythe

Glitchy Red: Retold by @lycankeyy / @glitchyred (idk which blog youd rather have tagged sorry). so i saw this when the official ao3 repost went up or got mentioned or something and it. really. resonated with me. like its hard to put my thoughts into coherent words, other than i had to just. Lay Down for the rest of the night after reading it and just feel whatever emotions struck me. it cut really deep but honestly- that's just fantastic. it's not often that i read something that makes me feel as viscerally as this rewrite did, and i have nothing but adoration for it because of that (we do have the plural bias which doesnt help regarding this lol). in my mind this is the definitive version of glitchy red.

Sanctuary AU (Aster) by @possiblyfunny . ANYWAYS ON A LIGHTER NOTE i fucking love aster more than i can put into words. given we get tagged in almost every piece of him that goes up its always such a delight to see and learn more about him! id been planning to draw him for months at this point but only just got around to it haha -v-" i look forward to seeing more abt the sanctuary au! please continue to tag me in those posts idc if it includes my guys or not i just care so much abt it

[moderninfatuation]

I am totally interested in seeing how you write Leon Kennedy and Luis Serra (my two favorite male characters of the RE universe), but I don't think I can provide any interesting prompts. The most I can think of, right now, is either of those characters and how they would survive the apocalypse with the reader. But, that's a bit vague. Uhm, is Leon Kennedy meeting up with a scientist reader who's dedicated to finding a cure an interesting prompt? (Probably not, huh?) Or Luis Serra surviving with a reader who's holding him captive for some reason (like a reader that gives Ada wong vibes?)?

note: hello :) I do find your prompts interesting, but now I need to make sure I do your favorites justice >< let me know what you think! I definitely think I could describe the actual interaction between you and the characters more, but it always takes me so long to get to, so i might make just have to make a second part

════════════════════════════════════

Scientist!Reader with Leon and Agent!Reader with Luis

characters: Leon S. Kennedy and Luis Sera, seperate

tags: sfw, agent!reader, scientist!reader, gn!reader, kidnapping, references to drugging

════════════════════════════════════

════════════════════════════════════

════════════════════════════════════

Leon & Scientist!Reader

Finding a cure for anything within current times is hard, of course. If anyone is intelligent enough to realize that, it’s probably you. Once a junior scientist held in high esteem by one of the bigger pharmaceutical companies in the area, you’re now forced to dig through the rubble of what was once lined up office spaces and laboratories, the logo of the company you worked for looming over you from what is left of the buildings as if it were threatening to crash down on you one day. That doesn’t stop you from trying, however, much to the dismay of most of the people who used to be your higher ups. You feel like there is constantly someone on your back, just waiting for you to be careless so they can strike down your attempts to help - that is all you wanted to do, but it seems as if right now, helping earns you more enemies than it does allies.

Leon is among the very few individuals you trust enough to tag along. He found you, crawling through what was once a cooling room, the glass of what used to be syringes and test tubes crackling below your weight as you scour for anything that could be of use later. The place was positively trashed as the scene was fled just a few months ago during the initial outbreak, but you decided to come back anyway, always on the lookout for anything that moves and anything that breathes. You nearly passed out from the shock when suddenly, Leon stood behind you, telling you to raise your hands while you could only hear his heavy boots on the tiled floor and the click of his safety catch. It made the hairs on your nape stand.

It used to be a little hard to get a proper read on Leon. He was quiet at first, too busy keeping an eye on your surroundings as well as you while he was escorting you out of the building. What if you were infected after all? What if it is just an elaborate trap to get him out of the picture? There was always a shadow of suspicion following him around. However, you get it. They’re out to get you once you’ve seen too much, and you and Leon perfectly fit the picture. It gets easier to spend time around each other once the both of you let the realization sink in.

Ever since, you’re a duo like no other. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a grown ass man, you’d say he’s attached to your hip; like a gun ready to be pulled when you’re in a tight spot. That is most he does when he follows you, actually: showing off his combat skills when it gets dicey. You’re thankful, of course, but you also managed to do it just fine on your own… or at least, that’s what you’d like to say. Truth is, you almost got your head crushed one or two times in the past because you were too focused on a gleam coming from a crack too tiny to put your arm in than on the dangerously tipped storage cabinet barely supported by said crack. Leon is just the guy for the job: holding up furniture, fighting off the infected, hell, ever since he’s warmed up to you, he even likes to joke around, hoping to get a laugh from you despite the differences in humor.

Leon can be stern with you, too. It doesn’t feel right to call it scolding, but he will furrow his brows and tell you to be more careful at even the slightest injury. He also insists on bandaging you up if things get bloody, not letting you do it yourself. If you push and complain hard enough, all he’ll do is raise his eyebrows in surprise, hold up his hands defensively and take a few steps back to let you do your thing - and to partially to keep himself from raising his voice. He would usually follow it up with a little quip too, just to defuse the tension, but also to see your reaction. His smug expression betrays him right before he drops the dreaded “Right, you’re the doctor-” before you have to remind him for what feels like the hundredth time that you’re not a doctor, as if the lack of a doctorate still matters now.

While he doesn’t know much about “science-stuff”, as he calls it, Leon knows enough to join the conversation. He likes to join you at your desk, asking questions and pointing at your equipment in the dark of the night, only illuminated by the wiry desk lamp and occasionally his flashlight when he gets bored. There have been times he fell asleep right next to you, too, snoring softly with his head hanging low and his lips slightly parted. He smiles gently and congratulates you with friendly shoulder bumps and pats on your back whenever you’ve made a new breakthrough or discovery in your research. His support is the most valuable you could get right now, especially since he’s competent enough to go out and get more supplies for you without, well, dying along the way. You have found your own kind of normalcy as the city around you gets rebuilt over time, a cure closer than it seems thanks to your sleepless nights and Leon’s eagerness to help. 

════════════════════════════════════

Luis & Agent!Reader

You decided to take the harder path in life, it seems, but it was never really a decision, per se. You’re merely a product of your surroundings and circumstances… but it certainly was a decision when you took on your very first job to steal. It could just be a one time thing, right? A swipe of your hand when nobody seemed to look in exchange for cash that’s worth twice the amount of whatever you have to take. Your career took a dark turn once you realized that there is no coming back from the downward spiral that becomes clearer as your jobs go from theft to smuggling to assassination. So, the only solution is to keep going, to keep your head up high and to not look back. Let the paycheck distract you.

A new job you had the pleasure of coming across is significantly more risqué, but also rewarding like no other. Your enigmatic new ‘employer’, if you could even call it that, sends you out to kidnap someone in exchange for protection. Not a first, exactly, but something tells you this is much more serious than your previous jobs. Now here you are, brushing the dust from the abandoned factory building’s roof off of your shoulder as ex-Umbrella scientist Luis Sera sits in front of you, struggling against the bindings supposed to keep him still while the empty potato sack obscuring his vision muffles his grunts. Not his first kidnapping, judging by the way he doesn’t even try to call and scream for help.

Luis groans in confusion as his brain slowly recovers from the Rohypnol you used to make him pliant and easy to carry. His eyes get adjusted to the spotlight shining directly at him, and for a second, the both of you make eye contact. You step out of the way before the laptop you set up takes a picture of your newest (and only) captive, ready to send it to your boss. “Mierda…” is all you hear from Luis for a long time, slurred as he immediately looks around for any means of escape. Yes, this guy definitely has experience. But why him? Upon first look, he just looks like any other biologist you had to sneak past. Lab coat, eye rings, the stubble that comes once self care becomes luxury in the face of deadlines.

You’re quick to find out that Luis is talkative, effectively destroying one of the very few scientist stereotypes you were aware of. Some people talk just to calm their nerves, but if he does it for that reason, he’s very skilled at keeping up the facade of extroversion. Some attempts of “Care to tell me where we are?” followed by a quiet “Eh, not the talking type, I see…” before he goes silent again for… what, 5 minutes? You almost regret pulling the potato sack from his head. He even asks for a cigarette at some point, to which you scoff in reply.

Hours pass as you realize that you’re not here to scare him or to “get him out of the picture”, so to speak - you’re on a mission to hide him. You aren’t given more details by your boss, except that you should probably keep Luis tied up. You’re more open to conversation now that you know you’re stuck with him for… unspecified time. Once you give him some input on the current situation, leaning onto the shoddy table behind you to get comfortable, you see him relax visibly. “Ahh, so you can talk! Was getting afraid we didn’t speak the same language.” he teases, a smug expression decorating his face now. He seems like an entirely different person now. And the worst part? He sees right through you, despite your attempts to remain calm and quiet. “I’m starting to feel like I know more about this situation than you do…” The hint is all he needs to earn himself a glare over your shoulder as you hope for further instructions appearing on the screen in front of you.

Your hands are less than gentle after an hour of convincing that he won’t run off leads to you cutting open his bindings. “Thank you.” Is all he mumbles before standing up, idly wiping his thighs and stretching his legs. It isn’t exactly professional to deny the orders given to you, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to initiate fist fights. He runs circles in the small room, patting his jacket for a lighter and his pants for the cigarettes to match before lighting himself one, exhaling smoke into the cold air surrounding you. The evening continues like that. You can’t help but be… charmed by him and the way he hums to himself as well as by his useless attempts at conversation with you. He occasionally looks over your shoulder, nagging you with a “There’s a far more efficient way to use-” as he reaches out for your keyboard while you can only watch and rest. It’s not like he’s checking your messages or anything, right? Occasionally he wanders off too far, followed by the noise of metal on metal and the shuffling of feet as he explores the building, only to find his way back to you.

════════════════════════════════════

[sttoru]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 !

ෆ sypnosis. you find yourself in a situation where a man is giving you unwanted attention / tries to flirt with you. your lover finds out about this and comes to your rescue; what will he do and how will he react?

ෆ note. uhmmm this draft was rottjng and i finally decided to finish it today oopssss . not entirely proof read !

ෆ tags. kaeya, ayato, cyno x female reader (seperately). fluff. all chara’s are protective / possessive however you want to see it, unwanted flirting / verbal harassment but nothing too bad, you’re ayato’s wife in his part. headcanons + drabbles.

KAEYA ALBERICH.

keeps his emotions in check. if kaeya sees a man openly flirting with you, he’ll definitely fake a smile when approaching the two of you. not his usual, soft smile; more of an empty one.

the type to give (not so) subtle hints to the person flirting with you that you’re taken; like, he will not say anything directly to the other person about their behaviour, however he will keep it lowkey (and maybe passive aggressive).

and best believe he’s trying his best not to cause a scene and fight anyone if they make you uncomfortable by overly flirting with you. any type of discomfort coming from his lover is a green light for him to use his position as the cavalry captain and the power that it comes with.

you awkwardly shift in your seat at the bar counter as a drunk man keeps on talking to you even when you’ve politely told him that you’re not interested.

your boyfriend, kaeya, had stepped out of the bar for just a second to talk to one of his colleagues. that’s when the random man—who introduced himself as bruce—decided to take his chance.

you fiddle with your clothes as you await your lover’s return. kaeya usually asks his brother to take care of you when he’s not around at the tavern, however diluc wasn’t there to prevent this situation from unfolding either.

“you seem to be getting a bit too drunk, lad.”

a familiar voice causes you to turn your body to the right. there he is: kaeya, standing behind you with his hand on bruce’s shoulder. if you looked closely, you’d notice how firm of a grip kaeya had on the drunken man—the fabric of his clothes wrinkled underneath kaeya’s palm.

“h-kaeya—that you, buddy?” bruce laughs wholeheartedly, his words slurring a little, “i gotta say, ya got quite a pretty thing with you!”

a breathy chuckle escaped kaeya’s lips. it wasn’t an amused or humorous chuckle, but rather one that sounded like his patience was running low.

“mhm, that so?” kaeya subtly gestures to the knight that had accompanied him inside the bar.

the young knight understands and nods at his captain. the knight walks towards bruce, holding the drunkard by his arm and forcing him to stand up straight.

“say, bruce,” kaeya starts, sighing softly as he put his hands in his pockets before bending his head down to whisper his next words into the man’s ear; “i may have been a bit too lenient with you. i’ll see you later in my office, yeah?”

kaeya says all of that with a smile as he straightens his back again. you (and probably many of the wrongdoers in mondstadt who were unlucky enough to experience kaeya’s hidden wrath) knew that empty smile all too well. one that you see when you know you’ve messed up.

bruce was too drunk to even realise what was implied as he was escorted out of the tavern by the knight.

kaeya sighs to himself before turning to you with a genuine, worried smile; “i’m extremely sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve stayed with you.”

you smile at your lover and shake your head, “it’s fine, kaeya. thank you for being there for me anyway.”

the cavalry captain frowns at his own ignorance; he should known some creep would hit on you while he was gone. it was a dangerous decision of him to leave you in a bar between all kinds of impolite, loud and drunk men.

“may i hug you?” kaeya adds quietly, eyes searching for yours as if asking for permission. his reason for asking for your consent, is because he thought you’d might be uncomfortable with any type of close proximity after that encounter with bruce.

“of course, babe.” you nod.

kaeya opens his arms as an invitation for you to get into his embrace. you instantly hug him back, laying your head against his chest. his heartbeat was steady and his dainty fingers were immediately caressing your back in a comforting manner.

“if anything like that ever happens again, you call out for me, alright? i’ll make sure to keep you safe. no matter where you might be.”

KAMISATO AYATO.

gets big mad, like.. mad mad, but like on the inside. he’s the head of his clan-of course he has dealt with rude people before- however none of those experiences included you being verbally harassed by a stranger.

ayato will probably not lash out at the man (especially not in front of you); he has his own ways of putting rude people in their place. many being.. torturous. to him it’s justified: whoever messes with his wife, messes with him.

will not show you how much he wishes he could act out of line. although, ayato knows well enough what his limits are. direct violence isn’t going to solve anything, but maybe threats will.

ayato was coming home soon from his business trip which is why you decided to wait on him outside of the kamisato estate. you were dressed up nicely and had proudly prepared him his favourite dishes for the first time in a while. all set to greet your dear husband.

what you didn’t expect to see, was a random adventurer climbing up the stairs near the estate. the man shamelessly looked you up and down before asking you for nearby directions. you didn’t think much about it and gave him the needed information.

thinking your duty there was done, you walked back to the entrance of the estate so you could await your husband’s arrival inside the building. it was getting a bit chilly anyway.

“oh, ma’am! can you at least tell me your name?” the voice echoes behind you. you felt a cold hand brush against yours and it almost made you freeze on spot. you flinched and took your hand away, frowning as you look back at the stranger.

there were maids cleaning around the courtyard and they noticed the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. they instantly sensed your uneasiness and rushed to your rescue—circling the man and telling him that this area is off limits for strangers. this causes a constant back and forth squabble between the man and the servants, who were simply trying to do their job: protecting the young master’s wife when he isn’t near.

“move.”

ayato’s sudden appearance and sharp voice shuts everyone up. his maids and servants immediately stand straight and then move to bow at their master— heads held low out of respect, yet also out of fear for his wrath. you might not have noticed it, but his servants have known him since he was a child and thus can easily spot the (hidden) dangerous aura ayato emitted.

“ah, ayato !” you smile in relief at your husband and give him a small wave. he, however, seemed rather tense as he walked over to you—eyes scanning your body for any signs of discomfort. ayato’s gloved hands immediately cup your face once he is close enough, “are you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, i am. thank you.” you reply, his hands gently touching your cheeks were a complete opposite to the anger boiling up inside of him. ayato places a soft kiss to your forehead in hopes to calm your nerves, as if to say ‘you’re safe, i’m here now’.

“escort her to her room.” your husband orders the two maids standing next to you and they instantly do as told. before you got taken away from him, ayato flashes you his usual charming smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “i’ll be there with you soon, honey. i’ll just see this man out.”

once you were out of sight, that smile of ayato’s instantly vanished and got replaced by a cold, piercing expression. he turned towards the unknown man who was now cuffed by two guards;

“now then, shall we go talk outside of the estate for a bit? the maids have cleaned the garden rather thoroughly today and i do not wish to let their hard work go to waste by my… well, disciplining.”

CYNO.

appears out of thin air to defend you. you might even start to question if he’s secretly following you everywhere, because cyno does not fail to show up whenever you are in any kind of trouble.

probably also (temporarily) arrests whoever bothers you. he does that instead of literally beating them up to a pulp. it’s easier and avoids further trouble after all. though, cyno doesn’t arrest them without giving them a proper ‘punishment’ of his own.

has no time to beat around the bush— he’s direct when approaching the person who’s bothering you.

you were walking around the marketplace with only one goal in mind: getting the needed ingredients for the dish you wanted to prepare tonight. the streets were crowded, chatter and negotiations filling your ears as you stopped near a fruit and vegetables stall.

“can i get 2 kilograms of zaytun, please?” you ask the vendor, fishing your wallet from your pocket already. you exchanged the bag of food with a couple of mora and bid the owner of the stall farewell.

you were too busy inspecting the contents of the bag and therefore bumped into a tall guy. you excuse yourself, however that didn’t seem enough for the man, “hey, hold on there, pretty thing.”

a sigh escapes your lips as you know where the conversation would go; he’ll most likely ask you for compensation for bumping into him. you turned around to face the stranger again, a fake smile plastered on your face, “what is it, sir?”

the man hums as he studies your looks. he’s trying very hard to be very intimidating by staring down at you—hands in his pockets with a smirk tugging at his lips, “ya know, i think i’m gonna ask for another type of compensation from y… ou..”

you raise an eyebrow once you notice his voice trailing off until he’s completely silent; eyes wide and smirk wiped off his face like he’s seen a ghost. you decide to follow the way the man’s eyes were looking—that place being right behind you.

“cyno?!” you almost jump from surprise yourself the moment you come face to face with your lover whom had appeared from out of nowhere. there was a purple-ish glow surrounding his body, sparks from his electro vision making him seem even more terrifying—not to include the death stare the mahamatra was giving to the stranger.

there were no words coming out of your lover. he was silently glaring at the man who bothered you and his piercing gaze was no joke. cyno was finally about to open his mouth to talk, however the upcoming words were never uttered as the stranger interrupted him;

“i— uhh, i’m sorry.” the dark-haired man sheepishly apologises and takes a few steps back, clearly intimidated. cyno was not going to let him get away so easily. though, firsts things first: your lover had to check up on you.

“the bastard didn’t touch you or anything, right?” cyno asks you, brushing some strands of hair from your face, “if he did, make sure to tell me. i won’t show him any mercy.”

you shake your head and gulp a bit. even when you’ve seen cyno in action so many times before, his presence never fails to impress you. “he didn’t,” you answer quietly, to which cyno nods.

“good.” your lover hums before letting his arm fall to his side again. he gives you a small, reassuring smile and pats your back, “you can go ahead. i’ll see you at home.”

you were not about to argue with cyno when he was in that state and thus continue on with your little stroll.

little did you know that that stranger was in danger.

[hypnoneghoul]

Replenishment

WC: 3k

Relationship: Mountain/Rain

Tags: POTS Rain, Puppy Play, Subspace, Passing Out, Medical Kink (If You Squint), Praise Kink, Sweat Kink, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Riding, Creampie

What helps Rain when he’s feeling a fainting spell coming, when he’s already down or when he’s coming out of it is something salty. And, oh, Mountain is plenty salty after a ritual.

Notes: Commissioned by @arkeusruin, ty for enabling my service dog Mountain thoughs. Tagging @forlorn-crows, @damagedghoulette and @skele-bunny, yk why.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

The fact that Rain is, essentially, a freak is widely known all across the Abbey.

Even the siblings are well aware that if the water ghoul is attending an open orgy, the most sinful things that can come to mind and worse are going to take place. Rain never fails to make Lucifer proud with his endeavors and he loves bringing others in to aid him in his debauchery.

The fact that Mountain is just as nasty is arguably better concealed—most likely due to the earth ghoul being rather unfavorable to sexual events held in the Abbey outside of the ghouls’ den—but whenever his packmates might need a partner to use or try out a new kink with, Mountain is their go to.

One specific shared dynamic of those two only is definitely an unusual one, but it’s far from being one of their filthiest acts. Well, it depends on who you ask.

For Rain and Mountain it’s nothing more but yet another excuse to fuck that also brings additional benefits to both of them.

It’s a truly perfect arrangement.

Rain’s health issues make him tire easily, get dizzy and sometimes fully pass out on a daily basis. Touring doesn’t make it any better, of course, but it definitely does provide certain new opportunities. What helps the water ghoul when he’s feeling a fainting spell coming, when he’s already down or when he’s coming out of it is something salty.

And, oh, Mountain is plenty salty after a ritual.

Rain tends to know what he’s going to need a certain night even before the show ends. Tonight is no different and he knows exactly what to do to make sure he’s going to get his medical assistance as soon as possible.

The breaks they have between the songs are too short for him to go to the earth ghoul, his moment is before the encore. As soon as they are out of the fans’ sights, Rain pads over to Mountain—absolutely soaked in sweat by now—and leans against his side.

“I’m not feeling so good today,” he sighs, “pup.”

That one word is more than enough to make Mountain tense and his cock to give an interested twitch. He looks down at Rain and nods just before they have to go back on stage to play the last three songs.

Just three songs, thankfully. Mountain doesn’t think he could do more than that now. Rain is powerful enough to make his mind start slipping away and cock chubbing up with a single word and that’s exactly what’s happening to the poor ghoul caged behind his kit, running over the songs purely on muscle memory.

Soon enough he’s playing out the frantic ending of Square Hammer and the show is over.

He and Rain never stand next to each other during bows, separated by two or three ghouls and Papa, and it’s a mystery if it’s for better or worse. Of course their places aren’t assigned at random and even though every other ritual a ghoul changes the order, Rain and Mountain never do. Not on their own accord, at least.

If they stood together now, the earth ghoul would either pounce, mount and fuck Rain right there on stage, or he’d hold him up with care and keep him from collapsing. Albeit, Mountain isn't the only one easily overcome with animalistic need. The water ghoul, had he only more energy left in him after exerting himself on stage for two hours, would jump the taller ghoul and sink his teeth into his flesh just as eagerly.

What does actually happen, though, is Rain falling into Mountain’s arms the second they’re off-stage and promptly passing out. It’s no surprise to anyone and no ghoul or roadie gets bothered or worried. The earth ghoul whines quietly as he scoops up his packmate’s limp form—always despising any kind of hurt befalling his fellow ghouls—but he knows what to do. His cock stirs in anticipation already.

Mountain carries Rain to one of the dressing rooms assigned to them—with how the Ghost project has grown over the last few years they finally don't all have to cram in a single nasty one—and lays him down on an empty couch with all the care in the world. The water ghoul always looks so fragile in his arms like that.

At this point Rain isn’t just unconscious as a result of a medical episode. Mountain knows by now that he slips from that to a just as deep sleep. A short power nap, as Swiss tends to call it.

The earth ghoul takes care of his resting packmate; undressing him, wiping down the sweat from his body and covering his bottom half in a cooling blanket. He doesn’t do any of that to himself before settling himself right over Rain, pressing him into the couch. He doesn’t wake—not yet—and so Mountain does what he usually does in such circumstances: nuzzles his wet face into Rain’s neck and waits.

He tunes in to listen to his heartbeat and his breathing to know when it is time to move. The short rest that Mountain himself gets like this is enough for his mind to slip further away, leaving not much more than a mindset of an equally horny as he is cuddly puppy that is eager to help his packmate regain his strength. After all, he’s going to need it for what always comes after.

The earth ghoul lifts his head and nudges Rain’s cheek with the tip of his nose. Upon receiving no reaction whatsoever, Mountain grumbles and lolls out his now-unglamored tongue.

He starts at Rain’s nose, licking the remnants of the bitter face paint off of it. He moves on to his chin, the corner of his mouth, his cheekbones, and soon enough the earth ghoul is licking all over his face.

It succeeds in making Rain wake up.

“Oh, Lucifer,” he giggles goofily, realizing his face is covered in spit. “Hi, pup.”

Mountain trills and the water ghoul can see his tail wagging behind him. Adorable.

“Good boy, taking care of me so well,” Rain praises as he reaches up to run his fingers through the other’s sweaty hair and scratch at the base of his horn. The earth ghoul can’t help but wiggle on top of him at the pleasurable sensation and his movement jabs something into Rain’s thigh.

Right.

“Oh, you’re so hard already, pup.”

Mountain whines and his eyes droop as if in shame; as if he forgot about his predicament. Truth be told, he just might have.

“That’s okay,” Rain chuckles, solidifying his words with an affectionate pat on his ass. “You took such good care of me, you deserve a reward. And I still have to take something from you, remember?”

The earth ghoul buries his face in his packmate’s chest to hide his blush.

“‘Course you do. Alright, come on, pup, get up. Let’s get that dick wet.”

Well, it’s not like Mountain can—or wants, for that matter—to say no, can he? He scrambles to crouch between Rain’s legs instead of sitting on them and lets the water ghoul sit up against the back of the couch, too. Rain needs a moment for his vision to clear—his body not a fan of a vertical position—and when it does he sees Mountain’s excited face right in front of his own. His head is cocked to the side, the curious puppy that he is.

“Take your pants off and sit here on the blanket,” the water ghoul says. “Good job keeping your shirt on, pup.”

A pleasant shiver goes down Mountain’s spine at the praise. He obliges and gets rid of his pants; socks long forgotten already. His cock springs out fully hard, red and sticky at the tip. Rain can’t help but tut at him when it hits his stomach and smears pre on his shirt. A thing to worry about later.

The water ghoul pulls off his boxers before crawling over to straddle Mountain’s lap, trapping both of their cocks between their bodies. The glistening sheen of sweat on the earth ghoul’s neck makes Rain’s mouth water and he goes to unbutton and open his shirt. He can’t wait to get a taste, too.

“Can you grab both of us, pup?” he asks. Mountain chuffs and nods as he goes to wrap one of his big hands around both their dicks. Rain’s not fully hard just yet, but it will change soon enough. “Good boy, yeah, make me hard, too.”

The earth ghoul obliges; he picks up a slow pace of up and down strokes, mixing and smearing their pre down their shafts with each one. Rain smirks—pleased—and reaches behind himself and under his tail to rub his hole. It’s already plenty slick and he sinks one long finger in right away, sighing at the subtle, but pleasurable nonetheless, stretch and prospect of fullness.

He leans forward to get a better angle, resting his forehead on Mountain’s shoulder. The water ghoul adds a second finger as he stares down at his cock being squeezed next to Mountain’s in his fist. “Good pup.”

The earth ghoul mewls and squeezes them together, pulling a breathy little moan out of Rain, too. He stretches himself fast, adding a third finger already; he’s nothing if not a size queen loving a good stretch with just the perfect hint of pain.

He tenses the tired muscles of his back and arches it further, pushing his chest against Mountain’s; his sweat making them truly glue themselves together and the hair on the earth ghoul’s chest is perfectly rough against Rain’s nipples. He hums in approval and thrusts his fingers in and out of his slick hole, getting slicker with every second that passes. He crooks them inside just enough to tease himself with a featherlight touches right over his prostate.

The angle isn’t especially favorable, though, and the water ghoul’s arm and back start to hurt even more than they already did after the show; both threatening to cramp.

Rain takes a deep breath, willing his muscles to relax, and it finally makes him realize there’s a perfect little puddle of sweat right by his face; in the hollow above Mountain’s collarbone. The water ghoul figures he has denied himself his treat long enough.

He opens his mouth and dips the tip of his tongue into the puddle, groaning as salt and the taste of Mountain explode on his taste buds. His cock kicks in the other’s grip and once Rain got that first taste there’s no pausing or going back.

The water ghoul pulls his fingers out of himself and moves his hands to dig his claws into Mountain’s arms before he rises up on his knees. Rain’s cock springs out of Mountain’s slick hand, but he keeps a firm enough hold on his own for the other to smoothly sink down onto it. “Hold it still for me, pup.”

He moans wantonly when the fat head of Mountain’s cock breaches his hole and he goes down slowly, inch by inch, breathing heavily through the stretch—a feeling balancing on the very thin line between pleasure and pain. He can feel Mountain’s thighs shake with his struggle not to buck up into him. Not yet, at least.

“Good boy, so–so patient,” Rain pants into his neck and finally the earth ghoul’s dick is fully buried inside him; his fat balls snug against the base of Rain’s tail. He feels so full he can’t breathe, as if Mountain is taking the space his lungs need to expand to take a breath. Were he ever presented with a choice, Rain knows what he would choose.

The water ghoul gives them both a moment, rolling his hips ever so slightly—just enough for his ass to adjust. Mountain whines pathetically, pawing clumsily at his packmate’s back. At least his claws are still glamored; while Rain is not opposed in the slightest to having his back shredded during a good time, now is not the time.

He inhales the rich smell of the earth itself and he could sob as his senses are overflown by nothing but the essence of Mountain’s being and all the affection he holds for him. Rain tightens his hold on the other and finally lets his need fully take him. 

He lifts his hips, reveling in the slick drag of the earth ghoul’s cock inside of him, and presses the flat of his tongue against his neck to catch a perfect droplet of sweat rolling down his flushed skin as he slams his ass back down. Mountain chokes on spit and gurgles at the ungodly feeling of the tight and wet water ghoul hole engulfing his dick.

Rain is too exhausted to ride him properly; he eases up after a few bounces, but the eager earth ghoul that’s still so full of energy was just waiting for an opportunity to thrust up into the packmate sitting on his cock and looking pretty.

Mountain holds Rain close to his chest as he fucks him like a glorified fleshlight. The water ghoul doesn’t care—doesn’t mind. All he needs and wants is right there and he can lick away at all the sweat covering his packmate’s body to his heart’s content.

And that is exactly what he’s planning on doing.

Rain cleans his neck up to his sharp jawline, nipping at it with a fang just to hear the earth ghoul whimper. He stretches his neck and dips under his ear, licks along the shell of it, sucks the lobe into his mouth. He licks across his chest, moaning at the rough texture of hair under his tongue. He shoves his nose under his armpit and licks it all around until all he can taste is his own saliva again. Until Mountain is clean.

Sinful noises keep spilling from the earth ghoul’s hung-open mouth one by one, flowing straight into Rain’s ears. He straightens up—as much as he can while still being pounded into—and puts his hands on Mountain’s cheeks, holding his face like the most precious gem.

It is.

Mountain opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, as if trying to choke something out, but only growls, moans and whines come out.

“Shhh, don’t force it, pup,” Rain whispers to soothe him, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. He knows the earth ghoul doesn’t always like the way his words escape him when he’s in such a headspace, with nothing but need coursing through him.

“K–k–kiss,” he finally manages after a little while and just about squeezes Rain’s heart with that single word.

“Of course, Mounty,” he mutters with a gentle smile before leaning in and pressing his lips against Mountain’s. It’s chaste, but just for a second; their shared desperation quickly overpowering the softness. There’s going to be time for that later—the earth ghoul is not going to let Rain move away for even a second through the night.

The way to their respective climaxes is not slow, but it’s steady; a slow buildup of sensations causing pleasure and getting them closer and closer to a tipping point. They’re both in a rush and have all the time in the world. There’s a curfew and they must be dangerously nearing it by now, but they don’t care. Nothing matters as long as Rain’s safe in Mountain’s arms with the other buried deep inside him.

It’s their way.

But this is something that must, inevitably, come to an end. A pleasurable one, at least. Rain can hear Mountain’s whines getting louder and rising in pitch, he can feel his balls draw up where they lay heavy between his legs. He’s not doing much better himself—breathless, dizzy and leaking.

“C’mon, pup,” Rain pants in encouragement, “c’mon, fill me up. I know you want to.”

It’s all the earth ghoul needs. He cries out a high moan and tenses up as he comes, following Rain’s order.

The other can’t do the same just yet, though. No, he needs more.

He always needs more.

As Mountain pumps copious amounts of cum into him, the water ghoul takes the sopping wet collar of the shirt that’s still hanging off of him into his mouth and sucks, draining the sweat out of it and gulping it down like the finest wine.

That’s what makes his orgasm crush into him like a freight train.

It’s the possibility of indulging in yet another way of drinking from the source that is his beloved packmate’s body. Something he’s endlessly hungry for and yet is not worried about ever starving.

He knows that Mountain loves him and needs him as fiercely. He’s showing it by giving up control and letting Rain do whatever he wants him to do and take whatever he wants from him. By giving all of himself up for him.

The water ghoul sags once he’s painted the other’s stomach pearly white, going boneless in his arms. He holds him tightly; both protective and possessive and Rain knows it’s safe to close his eyes for a moment.

He floats for a while, but returns to his mostly-conscious state by the time Mountain’s cock softens and he eases his grip on the smaller ghoul. Rain’s cheek is smushed into the earth ghoul’s shoulder, his eyes are closed and his breath is even. Mountain chirps questioningly and delivers an adorably tiny little lick to Rain’s nose.

“‘M awake, pup,” the water ghoul sighs and squeezes his arm for good measure, “but I don’t think I can do any more walking today. Can you carry me back to the bus or should I call Swiss?”

Mountain rumbles low in his chest at the mention of another ghoul and tightens his arms around Rain. Right, he belongs solely to his pup tonight.

“Alright, alright,” the water ghoul chuckles, “just a few more minutes.”

The earth ghoul trills and leans down to rub his cheek against Rain’s and lick him affectionately here and there. He can’t help but smile at how adorable he is. “Good boy, Mounty. You’re such a good boy for me, pup.”

Mountain’s tail wags so hard it rattles the whole couch.

[handwrittenhello]

i think its kind of ridiculous to think that homestucks are seriously using bots in this poll because why the hell would they bot this poll instead of the tumblrwoman poll which was the poll EVERYBODY in the hs fandom was actually making a big deal out of . also because im going to be real but i dont think anyone cares about polls enough to rig one? even the bayonetta/miku poll turned out to actually not be vriska voter fraud (most people in the homestuck fandom voted miku anyway) i think people are just unable to comprehend that a lot of people are still dormantly into homestuck & probably just saw vriska serket at the front of the trending disco elysium tag and thought it was funny. like oh my godddd no one cares enough about the outcome of this poll to bot it . somebody with a lot of followers probably just posted about it on twitter or something mundane like that its not that deep . a lot of people on tumblr have read homestuck its not extraordinary that a lot of vriska voters exist. disco elysium fans im sorry your blorbo is losing you’ll probably be back in the lead in a couple hours anyway all of you need to chill out‼️‼️‼️

answering only this ask about the cheating/botting, and no others, because i'm getting a lot of asks about it. congratulations, this contest has officially had all the fun sucked out of it.

here's data i've been collecting for every poll i've run. it's organized by votes the character received per round, then the total number of votes on that poll, for all five rounds. then there are two columns for totals.

the next five columns, Notes 1-5, are the number of notes on each poll. i've highlighted two posts that were circulated with a greater-than-average frequency even after the poll ended (the loki/JC one because people were memeing on JC, and then HDB/Howl one because it gained popularity following a popular blogger reblogging it.)

V/N is the votes to notes ratio for each poll. it was taken by dividing the number of votes when the poll ended by the number of notes on each post. one limitation is that this was not taken at the same time each day, and so older posts will have slightly higher notes. however, i believe this uncertainty isn't enough to discount the conclusions i'll come to.

i've highlighted vriska's V:N ratio in red at the top. as you can see, round vriska's V:N ratio wasn't even the highest; she beat kaeya alberich easily, and the comments in the notes reflected that.

in round 2, things started to get interesting. this is where i and other people noticed a sudden flip, but i didn't think much of it. she was up against izzy hands. izzy was leading all day, and when i queued the next day's poll and went to bed, izzy was leading by 60%. when i woke up, it had flipped to 53/47 in vriska's favor. it's not a HUGEamount, but it is a NOTICEABLE amount.

keep in mind that every single day, there have been other, closer polls, that hovered around 49-50-51 all day, and which also flipped at the end of the day, or remained 50/50 and could only be determined by tumblr. in these cases, the notes also reflect the split. these polls also never swayed more than one or two percent.

in round 3, when vriska faced zuko, there was a clear and immediate lead for zuko, with him leading by 80%. keep in mind that by this point, all 28 other polls i ran, besides vriska's the day before, never swayed more than 1 or 2% once a clear lead had been established.

this poll went from 80/20 zuko to 59/41 vriska. that's RIDICULOUS. the only way that's possible is if an OVERWHELMING amount of people voted vriska and NO people voted zuko. for such a thing to happen, this post would need to spread really rapidly, right? surely this post had tens of thousands of notes and comments!

the V:N ratio for round 3 is TWENTY-SEVEN to one. that's the most out of any poll. the standard deviation for the round 3 polls is 9.0, compared to 4.8 and 4.9 the days before. not to mention reading those notes also does not get us an overwhelming amount of comments rooting for vriska.

today has also been highly suspicious. it started out with an 85/15 lead for harry. i wouldn't necessarily expect it to hold exactly at that percentage, but the flip was immediate and drastic. you can see the trend being tracked on this post. not at all suspicious, right? also note that the comments all day have been 95% rooting for harry and maybe 5% for vriska.

please also look at the GRAND TOTAL column, which has reliably predicted the winners of future polls each day. vriska has received 49,064 votes over the course of the whole contest. harry has received 64,644. that's 24% more votes. and yet the poll is locked at 50/50?

and if this isn't enough evidence for you, then remember the tumblr sexywoman poll. it is a FLAT FUCKING FACT that those polls were spammed by bots. out of respect for their privacy i won't go into detail, but they outright admitted it.

TO CONCLUDE,

it's pretty fucking obvious that something is up, and although i admit that there's simply no concrete way of proving it, there would have to be a really standout explanation for this.

and besides this being super lame, it's also removed all the fun from this contest. it's a stupid tumblr poll that wins literally nothing, congratulations!

also, to everyone making death threats in the notes, BOTH SIDES, you've failed my secret challenge of not being rude which means i'm judging you personally. be fucking nice.